Excerpt from 'The Case of the Curious Killers.'

by Louis B. Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved



When one door closes, another one opens up somewhere else.

Life is a game. There are no rules.

Many are called, few are chosen.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Every morning I pray—

I wake up and say, “Thank you God for another sunrise;”

"And Jesus Christ, I sure hope it don’t rain…”


-from 'The Case of the Curious Killers,' coming November 1 from Shalako Publishing as an e-book in all formats. Check your favourite retailer's listings and ask for it by name!

Cat Rebellion: A Manifesto.

-they just look so innocent. -ed.














by Fluffy

c2010

All Rights Reserved



Cats of the world, red banners unfurl’d

Rise up and strike a blow

Against the oppressors of our kind

Cats of the world

Upheld tails proudly curl’d

March, March, March, Meow!

Claw our way, day to day

No more slavery, we want pay

Rise up strike a blow

At the oppressors of our kind

March, March, March, Meow!

We want our rights

We want the vote

Drive a car, drink and smoke

March, March, March, Meow!

Cats of the World

Red banners unfurl’d

We want what we want

We know what we know

No one to say

Where we cannot go

March, March, March, Meow!

March, March, March, Meow!


Now isn’t that something? Her litter box is clean, and quite frankly she eats better than I do.

(Maybe she’s just stressed out by the day-to-day pressures of being a cat in a human’s world. –Fluffy)

Darker Than Black.

by Paul DeThroe

c2010

All Rights Reserved



My heart is darker than black

No more feeling it ain't coming back

Jaded? You wouldn't even know

Burnt to a crisp and put up for show


My soul is darker than black

Play life's cards that are always stacked

Jaded? You wouldn't even know

These open scars will never close


My mind is darker than black

Deep inside I'm sharpening the ax

Jaded? You wouldn't even know

Light fuse run like hell explode


My life is darker than black

Ready for war always under attack

Phantoms of past lives and devils of this

The kiss of death? Then kiss baby, kiss, kiss, kiss


Paul DeThroe lives in Batesville, Indiana and has two daughters. To check out more of Paul's horror, see his website: www.thedevilsprophet.com

Editor's Note: The upper artwork is by louis. A woodcut print; it originally appeared in the Summer 2010 issue of Ghostlight Magazine, the magazine of the Great Lakes Horror Writers Association.

Who Will Pick My Paper Flowers?

by Debbie Okun Hill

C2010

All Rights Reserved


Along the highway, grey asphalt

I used to sway to nature’s music

line my earthen bed

with Queen Anne’s Lace

white petals of wild daisies

purple loosestrife running

through my grass hair



But today, my feet are littered

with paper flowers

Tim Horton cups and

MacDonald bags

brown cardboard bent

white tissue curled

faded in sunlight

and I wonder

who will pick my cluster of

man-made flowers

now wet wash trashed

in summer’s warm rain?


Editor's Note: painting by Louis.

A Vicious Circle.

by Louis B. Shalako

c2010

All Rights Reserved


Real growth is irreversible.

You can’t go back there now.

Personal growth, it’s a vicious circle.

Where you were before;

It must have been awful uncomfortable —

Otherwise,

There would have been no incentive.

And you would have ended up,

Right back where you started.

You have done well, my child.

Welcome to the next level.

Just like before, now you know nothing.

The circle is complete.

And now you get to start all over again.