By Christopher Golden
Dark Duets is a ceremonial dinner of eerie and captivating horror, mystery, and darkish myth tales—an bold and specified anthology that includes biting and atmospheric unique tales from seventeen pairs of acclaimed writers, all participating jointly for the 1st time, together with New York Times bestselling authors Charlaine Harris, Rachel Caine, Holly Black, Cassandra Clare, Stuart MacBride, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Jonathan Maberry and David Liss.
Penned through authors—and in a single case, a trio—who have by no means labored jointly sooner than, the tales during this mesmerizing literary chemistry combination various parts and wealthy topics into enchanting and hugely flamable stories that delve deep into the shadowy, unexplored nation-states of the imagination.
On the evening ahead of Halloween, an unwitting younger girl falls lower than the spell of a deadly man—and right into a terrifying multiverse—in "T Rhymer" by way of Gregory Frost and Jonathan Maberry. Sarah MacLean and Carrie Ryan discover the beautiful ache of everlasting love in "She, Doomed Girl." "Welded" via Tom Piccirilli and T. M. Wright bargains an unsettling imaginative and prescient of evil that infects and destroys lives.
Mixing the normal with the intense, those daring and shiny tales supply a compelling survey of the supernatural global that's guaranteed to frighten and enchant.
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Extra resources for Dark Duets: All-New Tales of Horror and Dark Fantasy
I’ve obtained a few trifle, or there’s syrup sponge and custard? ” “No, thanks. It was once a beautiful dinner. ” She consists of the soiled dishes over to the sink and activates the faucets. “I’m sorry. ” he's taking his serviette and dabs on the splots of gravy left at the back of. “She’s . . . ” What? toxic? Vicious? Spiteful? or simply an eleven-year-old woman from a damaged marriage, lashing out simply because he’s closest? Wesley clasps either arms round his whisky tumbler. A heat seeps via his sleeve and into his pores and skin. Grace’s hand is on his arm. He increases his glass. “To satisfied households. ” Grace clinks her tumbler opposed to his. “She’ll come around. children’ brains are everywhere, and women are the worst. I converse from own event. ” “She hates me. ” “At her age, they hate all people. It’s a part. You’ll see. ” “She doesn’t hate her mom. Or Bloody Hugh. Pair of them were dripping poison in her ear given that day one. I’m no longer the undesirable man, Grace. ” She takes a sip of Talisker, rolls it round her mouth, then sits again in her chair, these colossal brown-and-gold eyes broad, like he’s the single factor worthy on the planet. “Go on then: surprise me. What did they inform her? ” It’s great to be targeted for a metamorphosis. To be fascinating. To be sought after. “That i attempted to cajole her mom to have an abortion. ” Grace runs a hand via her grey quiff, and whilst she’s comprehensive, it’s leaning within the different path. She areas the whisky tumbler down at the tabletop among them. “Wow. That’s really an accusation. ” Her eyes develop even wider, pinning him to the chair. “Did you? ” warmth rises up the again of his neck and he appears to be like away. “Point is, it’s now not anything you inform an eleven-year-old. ” WESLEY PAUSES at the touchdown, one hand at the carved wood railing. The corridor mild glows light gold, casting shining reflections at the sea of framed child photos. Downstairs, from the kitchen, Grace’s and Jeanette’s muffled voices are followed by way of the clink and clatter of dishes being washed within the sink. he is taking a breath and marches down the hall towards Angelina’s room. The door creaks open while he’s a dozen paces from it and Ellie slips out. She closes the door at the back of her, then turns, and her eyes pass extensive. She jumps. Makes a bit squeaking sound. Then clamps a surrender her chest. “Pfffff . . . ” a grin makes her face shine. “Sorry, you nervous the existence out of me. ” “Didn’t suggest to scare you. ” Silence. “Right, good, I’d greater . . . ” She issues alongside the hall towards the steps, a flush blooming throughout her cheeks. “Yes. ” He flattens himself opposed to the wallpaper as she inches by way of. And once she’s previous him, she runs off, thumping down the steps. Teenagers—completely incomprehensible. Wesley straightens his blouse, then knocks on Angelina’s door. There’s no answer, so he does it back. “Angel? Are you ok? ” Her voice is small, slightly audible in the course of the wooden. “Go away. ” “Please? ” He attempts the deal with. It isn’t locked. He opens the door a number of inches. She’s sitting at the bedspread, knees jointly, ft pointing in towards one another.