My cosmic horror story To Die Unseen has been accepted into the Three x The Fun anthology by Rebellion LIT. It’s the story of a man adrift at sea and the giant eye staring at him from below.

Every few years, you’ll hear a miraculous story about survival at sea, about some wayward fisherman found adrift in on a piece of wreckage thousands of miles from the nearest shore. You’ll hear about his rescue by a passing cargo ship that just happened to spot him on its radar, about how he survived on a diet of raw fish, fresh piss, and the occasional seagull he managed to strangle with his bare hands. You’ll see the shaky post-rescue smartphone video of him with a blanket draped over his shoulders as he sips hot tea from a dented metal cup. You’ll marvel at the man’s strength of character. His will to survive. His unshakable faith in God.

This is not one of those stories.

My psychological horror story I Row has been accepted into the Oceans edition of Blood & Bourbon. It’s a story about trying to escape from the past by any means necessary, no matter how many tries it takes.

How far must I row before I’m free from that wretched place? A hundred miles? A thousand? More?

Mother called the place Summerwind. I always found the name grimly ironic. It’s a name that implies warmth, and joy, and love. There was none of that there, not ever. It was always a colorless void, with white carpets and walls, white cabinets and doors, white sheets and towels. A place of perpetual winter, blindingly bright yet impossibly cold.

My eco-horror story From Below has been selected by Metastellar for their Best of Metastellar (Year Four) anthology. This is the second time one of my stories has been selected for a Best of Metastellar anthology—Unarmed was included in their Year Two issue in 2022.

In the flooded remains of Old Manhattan, the wealthy stay dry and well-fed in their penthouses while everyone else is left to fend for themselves against the unseen horrors lurking just below the surface.

“Will we be safe there?” the boy asks.

The roar of the powerful outboard motor echoes through the flood-ravaged streets of Old Manhattan as I pilot the boat down the center of what used to be 5th Avenue. Water laps at the facades of the submerged structures, spraying a fine mist into the cold night air.

I glance down at the child. He’s young, no older than ten, with straight black hair and dark brown skin. The way his bangs flop over his forehead reminds me of myself as a child.

“Of course,” I lie. “You’ll love it.”

My short horror story Leftovers has been accepted by époque press. It’s about an elderly woman living in a rapidly declining urban neighborhood who subsists on an unconventional recipe from the old world.

“Ma, maybe you shouldn’t go out,” Yuri warned, his voice serious. “It’s too dangerous.”

Elena made a shushing sound and waved her hand dismissively, forgetting that Yuri couldn’t see the gesture over the phone. She switched the handset to her other ear as she opened the refrigerator. It was a vintage metal icebox with rounded corners and a curved horizontal handle made of dulled chrome. Blooms of rust scarred the once-white finish. The door swung open with an anguished squeal. It was dark inside.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m just going around the corner.”

My sci-fi horror story A Piece of the Sky has been accepted into the Wreckollections: Restrained Cries of the Past anthology by Wicked Shadow Press. It’s a story told through the testimony of the surviving member of a two-person asteroid mining crew that picked up an unfortunate souvenir during their expedition.

With all due respect, sir, you don’t know what you’re talking about. There was no way Bakely could’ve known what the thing was when he picked it up. It looked like a rock. Hell, it was a rock, just a hunk of the asteroid’s crust that he grabbed as a souvenir for his kid. There’s no way he could’ve known it was a nest.

My underwater horror story A Sinking Feeling has been accepted into the Take a Breath: A Collection of Claustrophobic Horror anthology by Storyletter XPress Publishing. It’s the story of two survivors trapped in an air pocket in a sunken ship at the bottom of the ocean. And they’re not alone.

“How long before help comes?” Andrei asked.

The two of us were sitting on a sodden mattress that was semi-submerged under the water. It wasn’t exactly a life raft, but it was buoyant enough to keep us somewhat dry. Without the mattress, we’d be in the water up to our necks. With it, the water was only up to our ribs.

I glanced at Andrei. Wet hair stuck to his face in thick, matted strips that looked like rotting seaweed. Beads of water clung to his spiny, rust-colored beard. The chattering of his teeth reminded me of the clicking of Scrabble tiles in a velvet bag.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

My psychological horror novelette Make It a Double has been accepted into the Tiny Terrors anthology by Graveside Press. It’s about a consolatory toast that turns into a blessing … and then a curse.

The bartender laughed. He filled the glass, then flipped a shot glass out from under the bar and filled that too. After dropping the whiskey bottle into the well, he picked up the shot and held it aloft in a toast.

“To Michaelson,” he proclaimed. “May whatever luck comes to him, come to you, times two.”

“Amen,” Lewis said as he clinked his glass with the bartender. “From your mouth to God’s ears.”