An Invitation to Darkness was a beautifully written gothic romp of a book and I bloody loved it. The setting itself is truly magical and in Piper’s hand she turns that magic into black magic – the darkness swells in this story and it pretty much comes out of nowhere. Was I ready for the
The Ruin of Delicate Things is a Gothic romp of a novel that combines the beauty of past masters into a meandering tale of grief, guilt, tragedy, retribution and healing of past wrongs. Also what a title – it perfectly sums up this book, and what it does to you if you fall under its
Silvia Moreno-Garcia has been carving out her own niche in the world of genre fiction for a long time, publishing science fiction, fantasy and horror stories and novels in small presses, and winning several awards. She’s co-edited a magazine, and is the publisher of a small press. She received little mainstream recognition until her breakthrough
The name on the grave still looks sinister. By day I can laugh off the coincidence and at night the mask of gloom obscures familiar details, but twilight and logic are natural enemies, and I’m jumpy, all alone on the island in the lake. My faith in the plan fails, along with my nerve, and
Ackley surveyed the plot, his narrow eyes glancing over each of the men hauling bricks and mixing the mortar. This will be a fine church, he tells himself, a very fine church. His gaze landed upon Carlyle, who seemed to be idling once again. Carlyle stood with his back to the plot looking across the
The ritual would always begin at 5pm and take exactly five minutes. Molly would signal to her co-workers that she was getting ready to leave by sighing loudly and saying, ‘Right.’ She’d take her mug to the kitchen, wash and dry it, before returning it to its space next to the metal pen pot on
Theodore shuffled backwards into the lee of the narrow wooden shelter. He inhaled the familiar scent of old oak. The floor was slightly sticky, but other than that this shelter was one of the better ones. The overhang and the shelters in the row in front obscured his view of the podium, despite the slight
Sitting atop the hood of his broken-down Chevy Impala on a quiet desert road outside the town of Zeller, New Mexico, Hal Flannery saw the boy with the pale skin and cold, black eyes. The boy had to be around twelve years old. He was pedaling away from Zeller and toward Hal on a rusty
Dear STORGY readers, My name is Anthony Self – I’m one of the directors of STORGY magazine. We don’t usually write personal messages on the website but it’s with a heavy heart and great trepidation to announce some terrible news. We’ve been monumentally busy over the last six months putting together the amazing short story
You may be aware that during the last few weeks our social media accounts on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram (@morestorgy) has been spamming a certain anthology we’re going to be releasing early next year. Shallow Creek will be a speculative fiction anthology with some of the field’s newest voices in the field, alongside masters of
