Short Fiction by Lisa Logan
Some fun excerpts from short work in Lisa's collection
A Novel Murder--an author
finds a chilling new muse to help him break his writer's block
Outside, the rain cascading down had become more persistent. Lightning flashed as he started to lay back down. The room momentarily lit up with a blue white radiance, just long enough for Taylor to catch a glimpse of something.
A shadowy figure stood bent over the computer desk.
The glimpse vanished along with the flash of light. Taylor sat bolt upright and tried to stare through the darkness, swallowing a lump that his pounding heart had forced up into his throat. Had someone been standing there? He reached for the flashlight kept near his bed. He pointed the beam towards the place where he'd seen the apparition. It was vacant.
The Chest--what horror lies within a chest that survived against all odds?
A sole possession was all that survived. Four lifetimes' worth of McKittrick family belongings, from the largest tapestry to the smallest candlestick, had been smote into a dripping ruin. None of the rest mattered, though, not to James. Not as long as the wooden chest, peeling and rusted though it was, endured.
The others had failed.
Bad Call--a new cell phone delivers a frightening message
Randall's new cell phone buzzed, interrupting his attempt at a nap. "Photo received," the display informed him.
Photo? He'd just gotten this gadget, with at least a dozen features he hadn't even figured out yet. Who could be sending him pictures already?
Randall pressed a button, loading an image that startled him into full consciousness.