In case you missed it, Moms Who Write put out a spooky anthology at the beginning of October. Fireside: Modern Legends and Lore is filled with ghosts and witches and all kinds of terrifying tales and poems. Get your copy of the Fireside anthology today, or get one for a friend as a Halloween gift! We can so make that a thing.
Not sure you’ll like Fireside? There may be a bit of a sneak peek below…
Pair the Fireside anthology with MWW merch
Speaking of Halloween gifts, MWW launched a Fall line of merchandise in our Etsy shop. We know plenty of people love Fall and Halloween as much as we do. So, why not bundle a copy of Fireside with a spooky hoodie or coffee mug? This pairing makes for the perfect spooky gift. And if you haven’t gotten your copy of Fireside yet, you can gift the bundle to yourself!
Purchase Fireside on Amazon or wherever books are sold.
“Who’s Next?” by Tristan Tuttle
If you weren’t swayed by the amazing Fall line gift bundling option, perhaps an excerpt from the book will pique your interest. Check out the poem “Who’s Next?” by author Tristan Tuttle.
Who’s Next? The dark shadow followed me. This is nothing new. Shadows follow everyone, obviously. That’s how nature works. So at first I thought it was my own, but I noticed that when I moved, it…hesitated. That’s when I knew. Right there in the lamplit attic hallway of my grandfather’s house, I knew I had made a mistake. I only came here to clear out the house after my grandparents disappeared. She went first, and my grandfather followed shortly after, a pale shadow falling over the house. I thought it was just mildew; every old house has it. The cops gave up trying to find my grandparents. With no bank activity, no bodies discovered, nothing to tie them to anything other than disappearing into the ether. The police released the house back to us once they went through it. I know too much. I have seen everything relating to true crime Netflix has to offer. This was not normal. But I shouldn’t have opened the envelope; I shouldn’t have read the letter. I know that now. But when you find a letter in the bottom of an abandoned trunk, in the attic of the creepiest house you’ve ever been in, after a set of mysterious disappearances, what else are you supposed to do? Ignore it? Probably. Did I? Nope. In my grandmother’s scrawling handwriting, I read aloud her words, “What’s yours is mine.” But the energy of that letter was off. I know that because I am very good at picking up vibes. (My roommate asks me to vet every guy she brings home.) The light in the room tilted and the shadow attached itself to me. It didn’t hurt. Just itched a little, but he is for sure connected at the root. Cinders fell out of the back of my shoes when I stood up. I wrote it off as dust from the old attic and headed back down stairs. I am every white girl in every scary movie, and now me and not-my-shadow are irrevocably linked. So that’s cool, I guess. He’s very good though. He never complains, he only occasionally growls, but he doesn’t eat much. It’s almost like I am walking in the sun all the time with a long shadow behind me no matter which direction I face. I’ve noticed that every so often he gets a little closer. The long shadow is slowly getting shorter, his smoky fingers lacing into my blonde hair and leaving ash behind. That part’s annoying. He likes my feet. The black ash has spread from my feet to my ankles now, and it’s not going away. I’ve washed, salt-scrubbed, and used every available product Bath and Body Works has to offer, yet it’s not budging. But I just wear high top sneakers, so no one can see. It seems fine. Well, except for the fact that it’s spreading up my legs. But since it’s winter, I can get away with wearing pants and if anyone sees the black ash tendrils climbing up my leg, maybe they’ll think I’m not shaving for the winter. Okay, look, it’s made its way to my belly and there’s no way to hide this come summertime. I look like an ashen wolfman. I know we live in a time of body acceptance, but this is greatly going to impede on my hot girl summer. I’m having a harder time breathing now. I think the ash is in my lungs. My chest is tight and I’m getting scared. I used my old inhaler, and it’s only giving me temporary relief. I can’t hide it anymore. My face is turning a pale gray. My once dewy cheeks look desiccated, drawn. I look like my grandmother. Her skin also had this tinge before she disappeared. What was it the letter said? What’s yours is mine. I guess the shadow meant that literally. Even my thoughts have become confused. I find my mind going dark. Instead of thoughts, I see swirls of ash and mist. My being is swallowed up into the dying embers of the shadow. I hear growls that seem to resonate from my own throat. I can hear others growling too. I don’t think I’m his first. There are other people in this mist of mind; my grandfather is here. He is a demented version of himself. My grandmother stands next to him. Their heads are cocked at an awkward angle and their teeth are set in an odd evil grin. I feel myself sliding into the hazy void taking my place next to them. All that is me is him. We are all lost in his shadow self. My brother comes to town tomorrow. I can’t wait to see him.
The Fireside anthology is available now!
If you enjoyed that excerpt, then there are plenty more creepy things to read in Fireside. The anthology is available wherever books are sold. Get your copy (or a copy for your friend) today!
Book Highlights: The Of Us Series by Moms Who Write
We always knew we wanted to release a book as a group. We never imagined that there would be more than one. We certainly didn’t think we would release three books in one year!