The Pit

Welcome to my humble writer’s dungeon

your throat

My, what a lovely neck.
Mind if I give it a little squeeze? What? Both hands. Yes baby. I need a good grip. Mmmm – soft, warm.
Good throat. Strong pulse. Stop? I’ll let go before I see blue. Promise.

I often refer to it as The Pit. This is where wholesome stories are start out with a happy ever after, but are dismembered before getting there. Like life, reality includes an uncomfortable truth or two.

They say truth is stranger than fiction. Nice. I’ll go with that. Truth is fluid anyway. Those who swear by it on the ground floor often swear to something else on the next level. The truth is flexible. The one thing I know is that pure truth can be very dangerous. Our truest feelings, thoughts, dreams, go to the darkest places.

Fantastic discoveries are made in the darkness of blind honesty.

Prepare yourself. Discovery comes with teeth.

So, if you came looking to find a cliche of hope and happiness here, just take a seat Cinderella. I’ll pop these cuffs around your ankles. There you go. Now let me talk to the sensible ones.

For those with a stomach strong enough to read my style of dark fiction.

Oh, don’t worry, if you’re off to explore these tunnels and think you’ll miss all the action while you’re gone, you won’t. Cinderella will be here when you come back. You’ll get to see her eyes grow wide with fear. I’m in no hurry to start working on her.

I always take my time.

Always.

-M