Coming Soon: Hospital of Haunts

Coming in October from Watertower Hill Publishing: Hospital of Haunts, edited by Heather Daughrity. This brand-new anthology features my tale of terror called "Insensate."

From the Publisher:
For 150 years, the diseased, the deranged, and the dying came to Lychhurst Hospital for comfort and healing. What they found there was something far more sinister.

The halls still echo with the footsteps of doctors long dead. The rooms resound with the cries of patients long silenced. The tunnels still thrum with the castoff energy of lives long abandoned.

Visiting hours have started. The doors are open, and you are expected.

Come tour the most haunted hospital in the world. Come visit our Hospital of Haunts...

23 Wards. 23 Ghosts. 23 Stories.

At Lychhurst Hospital, we’ve got the cure for what ails you.

Featuring stories from:
Christy Aldridge, Simon Bleaken, Bridget D. Brave, Brooklyn Ann Butler, Lexx Christian, Rebecca Cuthbert, Blaine Daigle, Heather Daughrity, Jason Daughrity, Joe DeRouen, John Durgin, Stephanie Ellis, Joshua Loyd Fox, Jennifer Anne Gordon, Gage Greenwood, Caleb Jones, Marie Lanza, Stephen Mark Rainey, Jeani Rector, Susan H. Roddey, Cat Scully, Westley Smith, and Mer Whinery

Foreword by Clay McLeod Chapman
Edited by Heather Daughrity

The ebook and hardcover editions are now available for pre-order; the paperback comes out on release day — October 1, 2024.

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Hospital of Haunts ebook at Amazon.com

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Hospital of Haunts hardcover at Watertower Hill Publishing

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But wait! There's more...

Watertower Hill Publishing presents the
Hospital of Haunts Limited Edition Swag Box

What comes in the box? A hardcover limited edition version of the book itself. This version contains a special front page stating that it is one of the exclusive, numbered editions, signed by the editor, Heather Daughrity, and a page digitally signed by each of the contributing authors. A special, super-secret extra story featuring the transcript of the last known recording ever made at Lychhurst Hospital. A vintage Lychhurst travel postcard magnet. A signed photograph of Lychhurst's favorite nurse. A Lychhurst Hospital mug filled with a variety of body parts--er, goodies. Only 100 Swag Boxes available—Order Now!

Cost is $75, US shipping included. The Hospital of Haunts Swag Box can ONLY be purchased direct from the publisher at the link below:

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Hospital of Haunts Limited Edition Swag Box

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Making the Best of a Crisis

Brugger, Allison, and Old Dude around the firepit. There might have been some wine.

I received the sad news from my daughter on Friday that her mom had been hospitalized with what might be a life-threatening situation. She flew down on Friday, was met by her mom's best friend/housemate, and together they headed for the hospital. Allison spent most of the day there, as well as a fair portion of Saturday. I was in Martinsville for my customary looking-after-my-mom weekend; but on the way home, I swung by the hospital, picked Allison up, and brought her back to Casa de Rodan. I had originally plotted a grand Thai chicken dinner for Ms. B. and me, so I picked up a few extra ingredients, and we were all good to go for a feast. Brugger arrived for dinner, and we commenced to the feasting.

For Ms. B., the sparks are flying.

As the song from Godspell goes, "We all need help to feel fine — let's have some wine!" So, we availed ourselves to some of the stock from my shelves, and things did go as swimmingly as one might hope under the circumstances. Some levity prevailed as we went out to the back yard and built a fire in the firepit, as this is something of a tradition when the kidlet ventures home. Quite coincidentally, she was here in March 2016; March 2018; and now March 2019. She's of a mind at this point that just taking the time in March and popping down here is probably a good idea if only for tradition's sake.

She headed back to the hospital this morning, and it appears that Peg has been transferred out of CICU. I take that as a hopeful sign, and I certainly will hope for the very best.

For me, it was a day for fellowship with a bunch of Old Farts on the geocaching trail. It proved relaxing and successful.

You Gotta Have Heart

Working on my best "get-me-the-hell-out-of-here-
right-the-fuck-now" face.

Surprise of surprises. I've just spent the past 36 hours in the hospital, after having been hit with severe chest pain over a prolonged period starting last Friday. I didn't figure it was a heart attack, since I keep up a pretty good cardiac exercise routine, but for the fact I also experienced some symptoms that were unusual for the chest pain I've suffered from acid reflux in the past, and I do have some hereditary risk factors. So, yesterday morning, with a pain level exceeding one I could reasonably ignore — against my better judgment, since I generally won't go to the ER unless I'm spewing copious quantities of blood — I asked Kimberly if she'd be kind enough to haul me to the ER to be checked out. Well, after seven hours in the ER, featuring some exquisite bloodletting and several EKGs, for the first time in over 31 years, I was admitted to the hospital as an in-patient. Yeah, there was a shitload of testing — including more EKGs, even more copious bloodletting at regular intervals, a treadmill stress test, an ultrasound, four different doctors, countless nurses and radiology techs, blah blah blah.

Dammit, all I really wanted them to tell me was whether I'd had a heart attack or not. All that other shit, they could have kept.

Long story short, I'm fine. All the results showed not only no heart attack, but no blockages, "exceptionally good" heart strength, and I don't have to follow up with a cardiologist at this point, just my notify my primary care provider. The most likely culprit for the pain is the stress of having to deal with my mom's deteriorating physical and mental condition, as well as a host of expenses way beyond the norm (of which this little vacation will help not at all). I'll tell you this, the endless waiting, the general hospital noise level (thank Yog I had a private room), the endless waiting, the round-the-clock schedule for getting stuck with big needles, and the endless waiting turned me into possibly the grouchiest (but surely most polite) son of a bitch in that entire hospital. Despite the maddening tedium of the experience, for the most part, I can't fault the hospital staff. They were at all times professional and amiable, and I did feel that, if nothing else, I was in good hands (even if I wanted them all the hell off me). And that lovely Ms. Brugger — without whom I would have been pretty far up the creek — she proved herself the bestest girlfriend in the world. (I already knew that, of course.) And thanks to Mr. Shannon Newsome for the visit.

I fear that you, my lovely herd, are likely to be stuck with me for some time to come.

Joe, the Spooky Place, and Route 666

I'm seriously bummed this weekend because my friend Joe is in the hospital. By all accounts, it's not a life-threatening thing, but anytime a hospital is involved, I consider it serious. Joe and I were friends in high school; then our ways parted, and we didn't see each other again for twenty years. Once we got reacquainted — eleven-plus years ago — the two of us (and our respective families) have remained close ever since. Joe is one of those infectiously good people. I always feel better for having spent time in his and his family's company, and I have it on good authority that he only rarely projectile vomits after spending time in mine. That's not bad. Please send prayers and good thoughts out to the old dude.

I'm visiting me mum this weekend, so I spent most of this very cold day planting geocaches in and around Martinsville. Several of them have spooky themes. Yeah, I know, what a shock. One of them is at a place I've always called The Spooky Place. It's an old warehouse in Koehler where the local Jaycees used to have their haunted castle attraction at Halloween. Back in high school, and for a time thereafter, I helped them design the rooms and got to be one of the roving monsters that scared the bejezus out of you in the pitch-dark corridors. This was back in the good old days when you didn't get sued if you indavertently touched someone, so I really scared some folks. Probably scarred 'em for life, too.

Yeah, those were some of my favorite Halloweens.

And just up the road from there, we have route 666. You probably won't remember (I blogged about it somewhere), but a couple of years back, I went riding up that old country road to a little graveyard and scattered the pages of my homemade Necronomicon. As you may have guessed, there is now a geocache on route 666.

As there should be.