The Lost word writers group

Greetings my friends! I wanted to take a minute to give some kudos to a group in very deserving of them. The Lost Word Writers Group. I had a meeting with them last night, and while I was sitting there, I realized how lucky I truly was to be among them. The group is extremely diverse, yet unified at the same time. Let me tell you about the members:

Donrad: A brilliant man who has already done more than most of us could ever dream of doing. He has rubbed elbows with musical celebrities during his time as a band manager in San Francisco. His rants can give Rush Limbaugh a run for his money!

GG Bloodline: Another brilliant writer. Her poetry is nothing short of amazing, and her stories are fresh and vibrant. She is a future bestseller; I have no doubt about it.

Phil Bannister: Wow, this guy will completely blow your mind. His writing is exciting, humorous, and laced in truth. Always quick with a smile, Phil is truly inspirational.

John Shwabe: I’m not sure if I am spelling his name correctly, so forgive me if I am destroying it. John is a poet without equal. His words are awe inspiring, and he will sweep you into his emotionally charged universe.

Dennis Neely: Dennis is one with nature and with history. He has a love for hunting the old ways that you can just feel. His writing is nothing short of incredible, and I always look forward to reading his work and talking to him.

Autumn Rosewood: It has been an honor watching Autumn grow into the written word. She has come so far with her writing, it just makes me proud. She has work in the book Tears of the Phoenix. Do yourself a favor and pick up a copy.

Devlin Giroux: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the writer I want to be someday. Devlin understands what true horror is supposed to read like, and he is a true master of the craft. Watch for him.

Cynthia Parker: Another poet that has improved by leaps and bounds. She has recently published two books of poetry, and she has more work coming soon. Again, I say look out for her. She will amaze you.

John Stark: One of the newer faces in the Lost word world. He has and shares a ton of potential and I look forward to watching him take the world by storm.

I wouldn’t be right if I didn’t add Dave Murray and Pat Wetherbee to the mix. Dave is an amazing artist who happens to be my mentor. Pat is a film maker who got me hooked on rewriting some of my work as screen plays. Again I will say it…look out for these guys!

As a group we have a book on the market and another two in the works. Within These walls is available now both online and at Best Books in Jackson Michigan. Potter’s Field is coming soon. I give you my prediction: This group and its members are going to go far in the written word. Tomorrow’s best selling authors are right here. Check them out!
Sweet nightmares everyone!
Tgreaper

book review for fallen from shadow

FALLEN FROMSHADOWby Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc


Let me start by saying this is one of the fastest reviews that I have ever written. Not because I wanted to get it over with, but because I couldn’t tear myself away from the story. When I read the opening passage to the story, I had to send Andrea a message telling her how much that one passage just blew me away. As you know, the opener to a story is probably the most important thing an author writes. It has to hook the reader. This reader was hooked. Sometimes, unfortunately, the story tends to weaken afterwards. That is not the case here. The story just kept getting better.

Farayne is a bored socialite with a free spirit that she decides to answer. Her story and adventure is incredibly well crafted as we follow her exploits in life and love. The story is an epic tale of an ancient vampire and an eternal love that truly needs to be read. Add to that the drama of a woman, living with the guilt of leaving her mother barren, and a control freak father who hated the notion of Farayne being a female. A broken family is something I and many others can relate to, and you can’t help but feel for the character’s pain.

Before I go any further, remember that this is a romance. Even with the creatures of the night involved, there is a tale of true love here. I am not a fan of romance stories, no offense to any romance authors out there; I just can’t get into them. This story, however, was so well written I couldn’t help but love it!

Andrea is a beautiful soul with an unending well of talent. I am honored to know her and thankful for having the opportunity to read her latest book. I consider this a must read, and I give it 5 out of 5 bones!

Review written by T.G.Reaper
Best selling author of Empty Graves and the soon to be released Meat Puppet

a truck fell on me book review by tgreaper

A TRUCK FELL ON ME
BY CHARLIE RENNE
BOOK REVIEW BY T.G.Reaper
November 6th was a beautiful, warm day with temps reaching the sixties. The only thing on Charlie's mind was that wonderful day was going home to do some outside chores. He saw the truck coming in the opposite lane and never gave it a second thought. He didn't realize that truck was going to change his life forever.
What happens next is nothing short of miraculous. Charlie's never quit attitude is awe inspiring. You feel like your going through the pain as he describes everything from the accident to the agony of the healing process.
He literally fought his way back from an accident that should have killed him into the man he is today.
A Truck Fell on Me is the inspirational story that has changed my life. It's a great reminder that no matter how bad life gets, with a strong will and never say die attitude, we can overcome life's obstacles.
The book also has several pictures of both the destroyed car and of Charlie as he fought to recover. This is a real pager turner and life changer. I give it 5 out of 5 bones. You need to read this book.

my annual halloween story

SHELTER FROM THE NIGHT
TGREAPER2007

She stood on the side of the road. Torn, faded
black dress and gloves, short hair blowing over her
face, hiding her eyes. She seemed to come from
nowhere, she just appeared in my headlights, thumb
outstretched. I was not one to pick up hitch hikers,
but I couldn't live with myself if I left her there.
She climbed into the car and thanked me. I told
her my name and she told me hers was Melissa. I
noticed as we drove on down the highway, whenever I
reached down to shift the car it felt like an icy cold
breeze oozing from her. We came across an exit and she
asked me to take it. I did so and followed the curb
around to a small town called Johnson Creek. Melissa
asked me to turn right onto the main road and follow
it to the second light. During this trip she sat in
total silence. That is, until we reached the second
light, then she started to cry. Not a bored out scream
fest, but a soft whimper. I turned to ask her what was
wrong and realized she was no longer sitting next to
me. Her whimper was there, plain as day, but I was
looking at an empty seat. Adrenaline rushed through my
veins along with the cold chill of fear. I pulled to
the side of the road, trying to get my bearings back.
I looked around at my surroundings: a grocery store
across the street, a few houses, and a chapel on the
corner. I had pulled up next to a hotel, the vacancy
sign winking at me in the darkness. A hot shower and
some shut eye sounded like the perfect cure for frayed
nerves, so I drove on into the empty parking lot and
went inside.
The hotel was massive. Hardwood floors with huge
rugs tossed across them, High ceilings draped with
chandeliers, the lobby was decorated with leather
furniture, and glass end tables. It was like something
out of a Victorian novel, and it looked way out of my
price range. I started back towards the door when a
voice stopped me.
"Welcome to the Roadside Inn. May I help you?"
The man looked to be a hundred and fifty, skin draped
tight against his skull. There was something cold
about his smile.
"Hi, I was just leaving. I didn't realize how
high class this place is. It looked different on the
outside."
"No reason to leave. Don't let the extravagance
fool you. We are very affordable. In fact, some stay
so long, they never leave." Again with the cold smile.
I walked over to him at the front desk and the smile
widened. He took a huge book out from behind the desk
and dropped it on the counter top. It landed with a
thud that echoed through the whole lobby.
"Sign here please," he said, handing me a pen. I
felt an odd chill as I scribbled my name in the book.
The old man watched me with an insane look on his
face. When I was finished he yanked the book away from
me.
"Good. I'll have my night bellhop show you to
your room." He dropped his decomposed hand on a bell.
"Melissa!!"
A young lady stepped out of the shadows, her eyes
hidden under short brown hair. I nearly collapsed when
I saw her again. My mouth was wide opened. I knew I
looked like an idiot, but I couldn't stop staring.
"Any luggage sir?" She asked in that same sweet
voice. I could feel that cold air coming off her
again.
"How did you get here? You never got out of the
car, but you were gone." I was stammering horribly.
She smiled slightly.
"Sir, you are starting to creep me out," she
replied, pointing down a darkened hallway. "This way
sir."
I followed her, babbling on about her
disappearing from my car in the middle of the night
and she kept assuring me she had been working all
night. She offered to bring her time card by my room
to prove it to me. Hearing this, I realized how
foolish I was being and I apologized to her. We walked
the rest of the way in silence. I thought I could hear
voices, soft ones saying welcome. Melissa didn't seem
to notice and I wasn't about to bring it up out of
fear she would have me committed. She took me to the
last door on the right, room 302. She handed me the
key and walked away, not saying a word. Not that I
could blame her. I was acting like a mad man.
The room was as amazing as the rest of the hotel.
Massive bed, with a closet off the left side of the
foot and a bathroom with shower on the right. I took
full advantage of the shower before turning off the
lights and climbing into bed. It didn't take long
before I was asleep.
Strange images filled my mind. A young couple
dancing in the courtyard of the hotel, both of them
badly decomposed and well past death. That image
changed to another room, in the hotel but not like my
own. A man was being stabbed repeatedly by several
others. It was like a party. They people were dressed
up nicely, drink in one hand and dagger in the other.
Both men and women. My mind's eye moved from guest to
guest, as if I were a witness to the party. I didn't
recognize any of the murderers, but I could never
forget the two in the doorway: The old man and
Melissa. My attention switched back to the victim of
this massacre, and I realized it was me that was being
impaled.
I sat up in bed, cold sweat pouring from my body.
I could hear something, and as my mind caught up with
the rest of me I realized the water was running in my
bathroom. I could see the light on under the door, and
a shadow dancing in the light. Someone was in my room.
I unplugged the bed side lamp and carried it with me
as I crept to the bathroom door. I took a deep breath,
then yanked the door open. There was no one there. The
water and light were both off. I turned the light back
on and checked the sink. It was dry. I looked at
myself in the mirror and noticed something in the
reflection. Melissa was standing behind me. I turned
around and she was gone. I had enough of this place,
it was time to leave.
As I stepped into the hallway, I could hear the
voices again. This time they weren't whispers, but
cheers and shouts of excitement. I remember the front
door being a straight shot down the other end of the
hall, so I broke into a full run. Someone shushed the
voices to silence before saying: "He's in the
hallway."
Doors on both sides of me flung open all the way
down the hallway. People in party dresses and tuxedos
filled the doorways, daggers in hand. They watched me
run past, all of them wearing the same look as the old
man at the front desk. The young couple from my dream
were sitting in the lobby as I entered it. They
pointed to the door and shouted:"GO NOW!" The old man
appeared in front of me, blocking my only way out.
"Relax," he said in a soothing voice that didn't
match his expression. "You are a welcome guest. You
can sign out whenever you want. We are always happy to
receive others. But once you sign out, you can NEVER
LEAVE!"
I felt something sharp ram my back. I turned to
see Melissa holding a knife with blood dripping from
it. Instinct took over.
"Bitch!" I shouted as I slammed my fist into her
jaw. She stood there and smiled, totally unfazed by
the blow. I could see the party-ers filling the room
behind her. In desperation, I turned to punch the old
man, but he wasn't there. Without hesitation I ran
through the glass door, not bothering to open it
first. I was bleeding profusely, leaving a dark red
trail behind me as I staggered to my car. I climbed
in, fumbling for the keys. The broken doorway was
filled with guests, all watching me, probably waiting
to see if I keel over. The car came to life with the
first turn of the key. I fought the clutch until I
found the right gear and took off towards the road. As
I pulled out of the lot the pain that was shooting
through my body suddenly stopped. I looked down at my
tattered, blood soaked clothes and couldn't see a
smear of blood on them. I looked in the rear-view
mirror at the hotel and stopped dead in the street. I
had to get out to see this for myself.
The hotel looked condemned. The windows were
boarded up, the broken glass door was replaced with
plywood. Curiosity getting the best of me I pulled
back into the parking lot and drove up to the door.
The sun was just beginning to creep up on the horizon,
giving the place a pale image. I took the flashlight
from my glove box and went inside.
The lobby that earlier looked majestic was now in
ruin. Dust and chipped paint was everywhere. The guest
book sat on the counter top among cobwebs and cracked
wood. I opened the book to the last page and stared in
disbelief at my signature. I felt a familiar cold
chill and decided it was time to leave.
Melissa was hitchhiking along side the road as I
pulled out of town. I honked and waved and kept on driving.

MY EXECUTION

MY EXECUTIONTGREAPER2007Around me the storm clouds gather.My dread grows as the headsman's axefalls against my neck.It severs me and my blood dripsto the falling despairing leaves.In a haze of shockI fall limply while death's shadowtakes my unwilling hand.Alone, my cascade of tearsfall upon blind eyes.This is my salvation.

A REAPER SHORT STORY

BEHIND THE HOUSE ON OLD MILLS ROADTGREAPER 2006
"You sure you don't want more?" Annie Maye stood over me with a bowl spilling over with sausage gravy. I held up my hand in protest."I couldn't fit another bite," I replied. Annie found me stranded out on Mills Road after my car decided I was far enough in the middle of nowhere that breaking down was the worst possible thing that could happen. She told me of her brother the mechcanic and offered me a place out of the darkness untill he could get my junkpile working again.
I helped Annie clear the table and watched as she worked the pump that brought water into her basin full of dishes. She noticed me watching and smiled."Now, if you have to go to the bathroom, it's the outhouse out back."I didn't like the thought of going outside and using a bacteria filled shed with a hole in the bottom. But I also knew that I couldn't hold it much longer."Don't worry none if you hear anything, that's just ol' Earle and Jimbob working on your car.""You mean they're already working on it?" I strained my eyes trying to see them through the kitchen window. Earle was described to me as a big burly teddy bear by his sister. Jimbob was his short, sharp tempered life long friend. I could see some light filtering out from the barn, along with a moving shadow."Why don't you visit the throne while you have some company out there. I'll make up a bed for you."I felt a little embarrassed talking about my toilet usage with a total stranger, especially a female one, but I nodded and walked outside. "Earle, the city slicker's on his way to the throne!" Annie called out behind me. I heard a grunt and some movement from the barn. I was going to call out, but thought better of it and continued to walk towards the tiny dark shack that was waiting for me. I paused at the door, taking in one last good breath.
The stench hit me soon as I opened the door. Feces and urine and another oder. A strange one, yet unmistakable. It smelled like rotting flesh. Then I felt it. Under the floor board. Something moved. I stared down the hole into the darkness, but could see nothing. By this time I felt like I was going to burst in my pants, so I hurredly dropped them and took a seat, praying it was my imagination. Once I was finished, I reached down to wipe and touched another human hand.
The pain shot through me before I was able to move. The impact knocked me off the stool and onto the floor. I reached down between my legs and pulled out handfuls of wet sticky blood. I half rolled, half crawled out of the outhouse. The cold ground felt hard and unforgiving. I thought I could see a shadow crawling out from the hole I was just occupying. "Earle! Annie! Help!!" I cried out. It had to be Jimbob. I heard the front door slam open and footsteps heading my way."Earle? What's going on?" Annie cried. The outhouse door swung open, exposing a large man with blood and feces dripping off him."I couldn't help it Annie May, the city slicker's a slippery cuss!"I was losing way too much blood. I reached down again and felt something cold and hard protruding from beneath me, between my buttocks and nutsack. "Hold still there city slicker," Earle said. He placed his foot on my leg and reached down, cupping his hand on the weapon. He yanked it out, the pain searing through me."He screams like a girl!" Annie said laughing. Earle was chuckling as well. I looked past them into the barn, the moving shadow I thought was Earle was a row of bodies hanging by ropes. I felt arms reach around me and could feel myself being dragged. Earle dropped me on my back on the cold wooden floor of the barn. He pulled the knife that he impaled me with out of his back pocket and wiped it off with a dirty hankerchief."That's my Jimbob," he said to himself. My body was numb, and I could no longer move, I layed still as Annie lifted my leg and wrapped a rope around it. I could see that my blood had ran the length of my pants and I wondered why I hadn't already bled to death. Earle put the knife down and picked up a camera from somewhere in the room. "Pose for me pretty!" Annie fixed her hair and stepped over me, sitting down on my stomach, back to me and flexing her biceps. Earle took a couple of pictures then walked out of sight. Annie turned back to me and smiled before getting up."Hope I didn't squish you," she whispered. I felt a tug against my leg, then I was hanging in the air next to the other bodies. It happened that fast. I watched the two stop and kiss each other before turning out the lights. As they shut the door and walked away I heard Annie say something that froze what was left of my blood."Now we have plenty of meat for my sausage gravy."

spirits of the mountain

SPIRIT OF THE MOUNTAINS
TGREAPER2004
Let me tell you right now that I have never believed in spooks, specters, or anything else that
Goes bump in the night. But after one night in those cursed mountains, fear drips from
Every pore in my body. The taste of blood and iron are in every drop of spring water
From Ironton Ohio.
I was asked to go to the foothills to do what I do best, show a haunting for the hoax
it really is. When I first saw the house, I was sorely dissapointed. For as old as it
was, it looked as if a fresh coat of paint was on the walls, unlike the other houses
that were in total decomposition. There was a huge wagon alongside the house,
the type that needed large horses to pull it, it too seemed almost brand new.
The inside was just as nice. It was as if time had somehow passed by on the
outside of the window, leaving everything inside as it was years ago. I unloaded
my gear and settled in.
The night was totally uneventful. I was at least hoping for a guy in a sheet, or
some sound effects, or something. I watched the minutes tick away on my
timex, untill about half past ten. Somewhere in the woods a wolf howled.
Too easy, I thought to myself. I set the cam corder, checked the batteries
on both that and the tape recorder, rolled out my sleeping bag and was
soon asleep.
I had my gear packed up and was back in jackson by two pm. I was already
making plans on taping over the tapes with the ball game coming on that night.
I popped the audio tape into my stereo and turned the volume up full. I realized
for the first time that i was a loud snorer. Then I realized something else.
I wasn't alone in that house.
It started like a whisper, someone calling out, calling for help. Then a symphony
of moans and cries. Finally, in a loud clear female voice, "Who the hell is he?"
My blood went cold. I dug like an animal through my back pack searching for the
video tape. I fumbled it in shaky fingers as I put it in the vcr on the third try.
The dark room seemed quiet enough, I was laying in the center of the room,
snoring peacfully away. Suddenly a blue glowing light, like an orb, appeared
in the corner, followed by a couple of red ones. A transparent shape appeared
above my head and I shook realizing that it was a ghostly woman staring down
at me. Something caught her eye, and she disappeared from view. Suddenly
her face filled the tv screen. She was looking into the camera. Her hair was
black and knarled, her face ashen, and her eyes, those eyes, looked like silver
ballbearings, totally reflective. She gave a sinister look, then smiled. I felt like
she was staring at me. I couldn't believe I spent the night in a house with a ghost.
Her raggy dress looked like it was full of soot and I surmised she must have died
in a fire of some sort. She stared at the screen for several minutes, the orbs floating
around in the background. As the night drained away(i used a 8 hour tape) And
daylight began to bleed through the windows, the spirits faded away. The last one
vanished as I was waking up. Way too close for my blood.
I gave up ghost chasing. Now I spend my evenings alone in my apartment, and wonder
who's watching me.