Posted 10, April, 2013

A NEW SHORT STORY!

On The Table
By John W. Cantrell

    Joseph stood dumbfounded, gazing into the open abdomen of the corpse on his table. The autopsy started off fairly routine, although he was no stranger to discovering the random surprise in his guests from time to time. This, however, was new. The victim had appeared to die from blunt force trauma to the head caused no doubt from his long vertical decent to the pavement from his twelfth floor apartment. Whether this new discovery had anything to do with that was unknown, but it certainly couldn’t have helped. Who knows what something like this could do to ones anatomy. Joseph was surprised the man was alive at all, if this thing was there antemortem. No matter, it was there now, and he had to record the facts.

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Posted 9, April, 2013

Little help over here?

Howdy everyone! Believe it or not, it has been over a year now since I published my novel Away. I want to thank those of you who have read it and hope you enjoyed it. Those who haven’t yet, run. I’m setting the dogs loose now, and they have your scent. Those of you not currently running I would like to ask a favor. I’d really like to continue this writing thing, and along with posting some short stories on my Tumblr site I am also currently working on my next novel. Anyway, the favor is this, if you have read Away, spread the word. All my writing isn’t much without readers. Part of spreading the word would be to take a few moments and go post a review on amazon’s website. I’m not asking for false praise here, be honest. I’m hoping with some reviews on amazon, more people will give the book a chance that normally wouldn’t. I’m looking into some more traditional publishing methods for the future including hunting down an agent, etc for help with the marketing end, but until then, I can only rely on word of mouth. So I need your mouths. Wait, that sounded weird.
Those of you on the run from the dogs, it’s not too late. I can call the dogs off. Either way, go here. Thanks everyone. I appreciate you all. Well except for that one guy who ate my last ice cream sandwich. The dogs will not be called off him. No way.

http://www.amazon.com/Away-John-W-Cantrell/dp/1470038250/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365534391&sr=8-1&keywords=john+w.+cantrell

Posted 21, March, 2013

The Robertson Field Guide To Monster Hunting Second English Edition


By John W. Cantrell


     Randolf thumbed through the pages of his Robertson Field Guide and found Index C.  Horns, check.  Fangs, check. Scales, check.  No tail.  Wings, though rather small.  Probably just for show.  He glanced again at the rather intricate drawing the little girl had offered him.  He thumbed again through the pages, while the small blonde girl drank down the soda Randolf had fetched her at the beginning of their appointment.

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Posted 26, July, 2012

A Return to the Files

Case Files of the Imaginary Assassin

By John W. Cantrell

Case #27: Pumpkin Mary

She was dropping seeds behind her like a leaky radiator. Any rookie could make this trail, but Bert was no rookie. He knew a trap when he saw one. This one was clever. No surprise there. Her creator was too smart for her own good at age five and had her parents pulling their hair out trying to keep up. Luckily, this gourd wasn’t going to require any fancy rituals or magic. He’d had too much of the spell casting lately. It was starting to get into his head. A little wet work the old fashion way would do him good.

Bert paused at the corner or West Ave. and Magnolia and ducked behind a row of shrubbery. The trail of seeds continued on for another fifty yards north then ducked behind a craftsman bungalow painted the ugliest shade of blue he had seen outside of the Unreal. He secured his weapon, strapped to his back, and tossed a small stone down the asphalt. It was night and all was quiet except the tak-tak-tak it made as it bounced along the road.

“Pumpkin Mary has big ears.” The girls mother had said.

He saw movement in the leaves of a sycamore towering above the powerlines above. She had a better vantage point, but Bert was hidden in plenty of shadow. He watched as Mary’s scarf drifted into the open on a light breeze. Target acquired. He slowly pulled another smooth pebble from a pouch on his belt and loaded his slingshot.

He suddenly had a craving for pie.