Hope Screams Eternal | Edited by Robin Knabel & H. Dair Brown
Not everything that emerges in springtime is meant to come to life.
Spring hearkens thoughts of rebirth, rejuvenation, renewal, resurrection, and regrowth. What happens when creative minds nurture a more sinister mindset, awakening twisted and nefarious interpretations of the season of eternal hope?
Authors, poets, and artists from around the globe accepted our challenge to answer that question. Within these pages, they do their best to unsettle you as they explore the dark side of spring. The seeds of doubt they sow will burrow into your subconscious, lying in wait to hatch when you least expect it. So get cozy, settle into your comfiest seat, and relax (but don't let down your guard!) as we bring your hopes and fears to life.
33 original tales about summer's darker side
Inspired by an earworm from a song in the 1978 film, Grease, "summer lovin'" became “summer bludgeon.” Voila! A new collection was born. The stories, poems, and art included in this collection highlight the dark corners of our hearts. They pull back the curtains and show us people at odds, broken relationships, romantic love gone terribly wrong. Cold deeds and chilling words unfold against the simmering backdrop of the "warmest" season of the year.
Original tales about the other, moodier season of change
Some of the short stories and poems in Autumn Noir unfold as gently as a wisp of chimney smoke. Others bring the heart-thumping thrills of an end-of-summer storm. All feature characters as vibrant as fall foliage and dialogue as crisp as autumn air. Join the down (but maybe not quite out), the struggling, the wicked, the forlorn, and the broken-hearted as they stumble and sometimes fall all the way down. To paraphrase Bette Davis, “Fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy read."
This winter, we want to celebrate these majestic beings and what happens when the stillness is disturbed.
In winter, there’s a stillness—a silence. As wet snowflakes fall, sounds are muffled. A hush lingers in the air. Bare trees reach upward from the frozen ground, grasping with their spindly branches. Swaying in the frigid breeze, brittle bark creaks and moans as the trees whisper ancient secrets to one another. Sentries, standing in the stillness. Watching. Learning new stories to share with each other long after we have gone.