WE LIVE INSIDE YOUR EYES

The digital edition of my forthcoming collection We Live Inside Your Eyes is now available for preorder at Amazon.com, Kobo.com, Apple, Barnes & Noble.com and anywhere else ebooks are sold. The paperback will be released on April 26th, and may not be available for preorder before that date.

Here’s the jacket copy:

In the ruins of an old parking garage, there is an effigy lashed to a pillar. To anyone else, the remains of the woman with the goat skull head is a warning. To a lonely young boy looking for escape, it is a god of salvation. At its feet lay tattered old notebooks, scattered stories, tales of strange encounters, of broken people and monstrous things, and of corrupt hearts and evil minds. In order to complete his transfiguration, the boy must read these stories, but he has no idea the fate that awaits him.

WE LIVE INSIDE YOUR EYES is the much anticipated new collection from Bram Stoker Award-winning horror author Kealan Patrick Burke, featuring previously uncollected stories and two brand new tales written especially for this collection, the short story “You Have Nothing to Fear From Me”, and the novelette “The House on Abigail Lane.”

With an introduction and story notes by the author.

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St. Patrick’s Day

A few facts for you on this #StPatricksDay:

1) In Ireland, “Patty” is not, and never has been, an acceptable shortening of Patrick. It’s only used for Patricia, no matter what your uncle from Southie says. St. Patrick may have been many things, but he wasn’t a hamburger.

2) You will never be served a “car bomb” shot in Ireland, due to the fact that the name refers to acts of terrorism by the IRA in which hundreds of innocent people were blown to pieces by, you guessed it, car bombs.

3) St. Patrick didn’t drive the snakes out of Ireland. He didn’t even own a car. He did, however, drive the *pagans* out of Ireland, so yeah, bit of a dick. Not only that… …he wasn’t even Irish.

4) I have never eaten corned beef and cabbage together, though I love the latter. The former is like a sunburnt arm floating in the grease of failed expectations.

5) Contrary to what you might think, the Irish love Americans. We have a long interesting history together, and you guys are always welcome. Current political realities may have complicated things a bit, but that’s okay, we’ve been here before. Back in the days when the Irish fled the famine and disembarked at Ellis Island, they were greeted with signs in store windows that read: NO BLACKS NO IRISH NO DOGS.

6) I hate Guinness. It tastes like a mistake. When I was growing up, only angry old men drank it. Now, it’s more popular, but still, can’t help feeling like its creation was an accident somebody forgot to report.

7) When you claim to be Irish, you’re probably correct. We came here in a ravening horde, drank your whiskey, built your skyscrapers, and made sweet love to your women, sometimes all at the same time. I’m probably your father.

8) If you really want to be authentically Irish today, listen to bands other than U2, The Pogues, and The Dropkick Murphys, like: Sinead O’ Connor, Enya, De Dannan, Clannad, The Wolfe Tones, Christy Moore, The Dubliners, and The Chieftains. Or Matt Hayward‘s band, Lace Weeper.

9) Today, everyone will tell me they’d love to visit Ireland, and if you haven’t already, you should. It’s beautiful and you will be welcome there.

10) I would also like to heartily encourage you to appropriate the Irish word “feck”. It’s as effective and versatile as it’s cousin “fuck”, but more socially feckin’ acceptable. Take it. Use it. Love the feck out if it, ya feckin’ fecks.

Photo by Pat Kenealy

An Evening in Chicago

Do you live in or around Chicago? If so, I’ll be reading and signing copies of my books at the beloved Bucket O’ Blood Books & Records this Sunday, January 13th at 6 PM. The store will have copies of Blanky, The Tent, Sour Candy, Kin, Currency of Souls, Master of the Moors, and The Novellas, in stock, so if you need any of those titles, there’s no cooler gesture of support for independent stores than to buy it there.

The signing will be followed by a screening of short horror films I’ve selected, which I will introduce, including Todd Coleman’s classic Living Dolls (1980), so if you can, be sure to stop by!

The event is presented by South Side Projections in Chicago.

Event artwork by Corrine Halbert.

DEAD OF WINTER (Paperback)

Following on the heels of the DEAD LEAVES paperback, today sees the release in print of DEAD OF WINTER, another collection of seasonally appropriate horror. If you already own the digital version, please update it via your digital content settings on Amazon. This way your existing copy will be updated to include two additional stories and my list of recommended reads for the winter.

DEAD OF WINTER

Winter isn’t coming…it’s already here, and with it comes a horror no door can keep out.It’s there in the yard, in the faces of the snowmen a young boy doesn’t remember building.It’s in the oddly empty streets below Santa Claus’s crumbling sleigh.

It’s in the unnatural movement of the snow that suffocates a widower’s town, and in the cold eyes of a lonely man’s estranged children.

Here, there is no holiday cheer, only spine-chilling fear, in the DEAD OF WINTER.

Featuring seven stories, an introduction by the author, and a list of recommended books for the winter season.​

Available now in paperback and digital.

We Live Inside Your Eyes

We Live Inside Your EyesComing in April 2019, WE LIVE INSIDE YOUR EYES, a new book of previously uncollected stories. Stay tuned for preordering information and more details as they become available.

In the meantime, check out the deeply creepy retro-style cover art.

 

Free Short Story: “Head in the Clouds”

HEAD IN THE CLOUDS

“Daddy?”

“Yes, hon?”

“Why do planes crash?”

“I don’t know, babe. I…I don’t know.”

“Why don’t they just land before it ‘splodes?”

“I…because they can’t, I guess. They don’t have time to make it to the ground.”

“I know that. But why can’t they land on the clouds?”

“Oh. Be…Because…”

“Or just let all the passengers off onto the clouds so they can wait to be picked up by another plane?”

“Sarah…”

“Maybe that’s what happened to Mommy’s plane.”

“Maybe.”

“I saw the plane on the news.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It was on fire and broken up in itty-bitty pieces.”

“Yes. Yes…it was.”

“Don’t be sad, Dad.”

“I’m not, hon. I’m okay.”

“You’re crying.”

“I guess I am. I’m tired is all.”

“I saw the plane, Daddy, but you know what? I didn’t see Mommy on the TV. I saw the plane but she wasn’t there. Nobody was there!”

“I know, but baby, you—”

“I bet the plane stopped to let them off on the clouds, and she’s waiting up there right now for a ride home. Isn’t that what you think Daddy?”

“Yeah. Yeah it is. You need to lie down and get some sleep now baby. Been a rough few—”

“Can we go pick her up?”

“I don’t think we can.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t…let’s just talk about this in the morning, okay?”

“You can fly, Daddy, can’t you? Rachel told me at school that Daddies can fly if they want to. She said when her little brother ran out in front of a car her Daddy screamed and turned and flew and saved her little brother. I guess Moms can’t though or she’d just be able to fly down from the cloud all by herself, wouldn’t she?”

“I can’t fly, honey. I wish I could.”

“Do, then!”

“What?”

“Make a wish and I’ll bet you can! You can go collect Mommy.”

“Sarah…”

“I bet it’s cold up there.”

“In the clouds?”

“Uh-huh. But at least it’s nice and fluffy and soft.”

“I bet it is. Come on now, lie down and let me tuck you in.”

“I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Sure you will. You’re tired.”

“I won’t. I’m too excited now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to make a wish and fly and get Mommy back.”

“I suppose I’ll have to give it a shot, but what if I can’t?”

“You’re crying again. If it’s because you’re worried about leaving me here alone while you go get Mommy, you don’t have to. I’ll stay here in bed and look out the window. I promise I won’t get up until I see you coming back. I do that sometimes anyway.”

“Do what?”

“Lie here looking out the window at the clouds. Those are the days when you have to call me for breakfast a few times, because I don’t want to stop watching them. Then you come in and tickle me and I have to get up.”

“I didn’t know that’s what you were doing.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Because I love you, Sarah. I don’t know what I would do without you. And your mother loves you.”

“I know. She told me about the clouds. That’s why I watch them.”

“What did she tell you?”

“That things are different up there. That you can walk on the clouds. That there are bunches of people up there who have fallen from space, or out of planes, or who jumped too high and got stuck. That’s why I don’t use Rachel’s trampoline. She calls me a chicken, but I’m really not. I just don’t want to get my head stuck in the clouds. Mommy said that’s what it means when someone says someone else has their head in the clouds. Means they jumped too high once—maybe on a trampoline—and because their heads poked through, they’re never the same after that. They’re a bit silly.”

“Is that what she said?”

“Yeah. So, I guess because it’s not the same up there, Mommy shouldn’t be up there too long. Will you go get her while I’m sleeping?”

“What if I can’t fly? What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will. Wish hard, Daddy.”

“Okay, babe. I’ll wish as hard as I can, but if it doesn’t work, you think maybe Mommy’ll might be happy up there?”

“Why would she want to stay up there when we’re down here?”

“Maybe so she can always watch over us wherever we go. Maybe…so she can help the other people who have fallen out of space and airplanes and…”

“I guess. But you should go make sure she’s okay anyway.”

“Okay baby, I will, and I’ll tell her you miss her.”

“Promise?”

“With all my heart. Now you lie down and get some sleep. It’s getting late and you want me to be able to see my way up there don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay. Daddy?”

“Yes, hon?”

“Don’t get stuck up there okay?”

“I won’t.”

“Swear?”

“I swear.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

(c) copyright 2007 by Kealan Patrick Burke. “Head in the Clouds” originally appeared on the Subterranean Press website. Reprinted in the collection Theater Macabre (2011).

All rights reserved. No unauthorized reproduction permitted.

 

Paperback Re-Covery

One of the great things about DIY publishing is, if you don’t like the cover of your book, you can always change it. I try to resist doing this too often because it can create a bit of confusion among readers. Still, when I’m dissatisfied with a book cover, it nags at me until I can’t take it anymore and have to replace it with a better, more thematically appropriate and visually striking one. Hence, I recently redesigned the covers for my novels Master of the Moors and Currency of Souls.

While I was in the spirit of things, I also went ahead and made my collection Milestone and the new novella Blanky available in paperback editions with spiffy covers of their own.

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You can find all of these titles in digital and paperback on Amazon.

NOTE: The digital edition of MASTER OF THE MOORS is currently on sale for the next few days.