Friday, April 12, 2013

Green Wizard Publishing launches Reality Bites - an anthology of twelve fictional stories

Death.  Domestic abuse. Ritual exploitation. The passing of a loved one. Child battery. Horrifying food addiction. Brutal bullying.  Friendship gone bad.  Drugs.  Family collapse. Loss. Despair.  These are the bricks in the walls of Hell. 
That would be real hell. Not the imaginary hell of the biblical scribe, the epic fantasist, the horrorphile, the metaphorist, the allegory peddler or the unreliable narrator. 

This is the real Hell.

But no matter how bleak things become in that impenetrable abyss, no matter how bleak, no matter how pitch black, there is always the bottom rung of a rotten, threadbare rope ladder dangling from the precipice – and the message is:  the rung is in reach.
This is Reality Bites. Twelve fictional stories by twelve superb independent authors, each of whom is a card-carrying survivor of the abyss.  And these are their tales.
Extract from Reality Bites (excerpt by Christy L Foster):
The nippy temperatures were blamed for many things, including cooler water reserves for the building where the Gilmore family resided. Many tenants complained to the landlord about not having hot water for a hot shower. Not having a washer and dryer in the apartment meant that if Carol needed a clean uniform, she would have to make a choice. She could choose to go to the laundromat or wash a uniform at home. Going to the laundromat meant going through the copious steps and headache of trekking there in the cold with an infant and the basket in tow. Staying at home meant she would need to wash the uniform quickly and hang it to dry before her shift that evening. As she often did, she chose to hand wash so she could be home with her baby. She headed for the bathroom and turned on the water, plugged the bathtub, and turned to get the laundry detergent as Christy toddled her way into the bathroom.
    Ever the early-starter, Christy already had a firm grasp on walking and had discovered her love of water, as well. The ultra-shallow depth of the tub allowed Christy to splash and play in the water easily any time she was preparing for a bath or when her mother needed to wash a few pieces of laundry. She always would coo and giggle when it was time to play in the water. Seeing Christy make her way through the door and head for the bathtub was a normal thing for Carol. She smiled and cleared the path so her little one would not have a problem making her way to her target as Carol reached up to get the detergent from the shelf. Just moments later, a piercing scream shot through the apartment and froze Carol mid-reach.



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