Mr. Deadman Interviews Kristine Hall-Garcia, Author of Highly Popular Dark Erotica Short

Kristine Hall-Garcia, author of Unbloom, meets with Mr. Deadman on Friday at 10pm CST for a live interview.

Kristine is the writer of one of the more brutal stories featured on the Tome. Unbloom was so dark that it was one of the first to bear the NSFW label, which was done solely as a precaution for those brave enough to read stories on this horrible site at work.

Curious about the mind behind such a dark and demented story, Mr. Deadman will ask Kristine about her latest story on Deadman’s Tome, the inspiration behind it, and other projects she has been working on.

You can catch the episode this Friday at 10pm CST and the link will be accessible on the sidebar under where it reads RSS feed. Or you can follow the podcast on Spreaker by using this link:

Or follow Mr. Deadman on twitter (@MrDeadmanDT) and you’ll have access to a direct link once it posts.



Book of Horrors II


Fans of horror, of good scary horror, will be excited to hear that another dose of unrelenting terror is heading their way!

Deadman’s Tome Book of Horrors II contains ten scary stories, horrifying tales, demented prose of fading sanity, and is set to release October 1st! The anthology includes the following authors:

Blackmouth by S. Alessandro Martinez

 The Valley of Sex by Joseph Rubas

DOSE by Marc Shapiro

The Chasm Bridged by Carson Winter

An Identity For Sam Piles by Spinster Eskie

 Patty Cake, Patty Cake by Ken Goldman

 The Gates by Lisa De Young

 Killer Instinct by Gabrielle Esposito

 The Woman in Red by B Thomas

The Adler Street Boarding House by Kelly Evans

Pre-order your copy and the gruesome anthology will be delivered to your kindle, phone, or compatible device instantly!

2016 Horror Olympic Winners!

Banner Olympics 2016

The 2016 Rio Olympics happened and I couldn’t tell you who won or lost, but I’m sure much was celebrated.

During the 2016 Olympics, Deadman’s Tome held its very own horror Olympics. The horror Olympics had stories compete against one another in various categories such as Most Read, Zombie, Best Sex, and Straight-Up Murder. While I made an announcement of the winners via Deadman’s Tome Podcast, let me do a quick rundown for those that didn’t catch it. You can listen to the announcement here:


For the Best of the Most Read:

In this category, Melissa’s HobbyUnbloom, The Way Out, Blackmouth, and The Weapon Collector face off for gold! The Way Out won gold in the category of Best of the Most Read

  • The Way Out by Gary Buller 45.83%  (11 votes) 
  • Melissa’s Hobby by Sean Glasheen 37.5%  (9 votes) 
  • Unbloom by Kristine Hall-Garcia 8.33%  (2 votes) 
For the Best of the Zombie Horror:
This category features The Four of JulyJoining the FamilyThe Night We Aired the House, My 1963 Ford Galaxy and the Maniacs of Dearborn County by Gary L. Robbe and Happy Birthday, Joshie A four way tie. I guess when it comes to zombies, no body wins.
  • Four of July 25%  (1 votes) 
  • The Night We Aired The House 25%  (1 votes) 
  • Happy Birthday, Joshie 25%  (1 votes) 
  • My 1963 Ford Galaxy and the Maniacs of Dearborn County 25% (1 votes)
For the Best Sex:
Deadman’s Tome has featured several very perverse horror shorts and in this category: Sex ToyTouch Me, I’m SickThe Woman in Red, DOSE and Caught in the Act Sex Toy takes the gold for Best Sex.
  • Sex Toy 66.67%  (4 votes) 
  • Caught in the Act 16.67%  (1 votes) 
  • DOSE 16.66%  (1 votes) 


For Straight-Up Murder

Stories in this category are: A Corpse Can’t LaughMad LoveLove Electric, and Confession Confession straight-up kills it for gold in Straight-Up Murder.

  • Confession 43.75%  (7 votes) 
  • Electric Love 31.25%  (5 votes) 
  • A Corpse Can’t Laugh 25%  (4 votes) 

The 2016 Horror Olympics was a spur of the moment thing, but it turned out to be a lot of fun. Because the contest was so spontaneous (and because Deadman’s Tome doesn’t have the money), Deadman’s Tome does not have actually golden medals. However, I think the winners deserves some recognition. Perhaps a certificate of some sort. Maybe access to the backroom where the groupies and “party favors” are kept.

The winners received additional readers, and every view is money. The winners will also receive a certificate.

The Stalker – Elliot Richard Dorfman

beverage-mug-000000Enhance your coffee today  

Howard Thomas was a Social Studies high school teacher who lived in Manhattan with his wife Susan and their 15- year- old twins Brian and Arnold.  When Howard got his certification to become a principal, he started looking for a position in Upstate New York. In that area, the family could enjoy plenty of space and fresh air after living in a crowded, polluted city.                    

Always giving an excellent impression at interviews, Howard was hired as the high school principal at Winfield, a town in the Mohawk Valley near the Adirondack Mountains, starting the next school season in the fall.  

A local real-estate agent was hired and quickly found the family an old yellow painted Cedar wood Italianate farmhouse with a stream at the eastern section of a two-acre property. True, the house was built in 1890, but its condition was good and the place maintained a certain charm.

The family settled in Winfield about a month before the school term began. Susan suggested they purchase a portable above ground swimming pool for the boys, but Howard decided first to get a decent tractor first to mow the grounds and keep it from becoming an overgrown field of tall grass, weeds, and wildflowers.

Having lived in Manhattan, Brian and Arnold’s new friends admired them for their trendy way of doing things. The twins liked this admiration and quickly adjusted to their new surroundings.  As for their parents, it took a bit longer, although Howard personally enjoyed the prestigious role of being a high school principal.

The first time Howard experienced something strange happening was five months after moving to Winfield.  Unable to sleep one evening, he lay restlessly tossing and turning in the dark for hours until finally deciding to get dressed and take a stroll in the back of the house.

Most of the trees were bare by now, and the full moon cast an eerie blue light on the grounds.  Nearing the stream, Howard saw a figure staring at him from the other side. The man had long blond hair that framed a pale young face. When he called out to him, the stranger disappeared.  Thinking that perhaps his imagination was playing tricks and no one was really there, Howard returned home.  Once getting into bed, he was able to fall asleep until the morning.


Busy at his new job and adjusting to his new life, Howard soon forgot the incident. However, one snowy winter night when he was at the desk in the den, he saw the same man staring at him from the window.  Getting up, he ran outside, but no one was there

What does this fellow want? he wondered, becoming more angry than fearful.

For the next few days, Howard searched the entire neighborhood to see if the man might just be some nosy neighbor without any success.  Yet, from that time on, he began to constantly see this stranger looking into the first-floor windows in his house or somewhere on the grounds. Oddly enough, none of the other family saw him.

Eventually able to get a bit closer to this figure when outside, Howard guessed him to be in his early twenties. Tall, thin, and dressed in something reminiscent of what men wore in the late nineteenth century, he attempted to speak to this strange person, but all the young man did was respond with an unnerving smile, turn, and walk away.

Naming this weirdo “The Stalker,” Howard became determined to stop him snooping around the premises. The following afternoon he went to the local police precinct and filled out a report on this prowler and asked for their assistance to apprehend him. He was assured they would get right on the case if he would be willing to press charges when the person was caught. Of course, Howard agreed to do this.

For the next few months, the Stalker stopped appearing again, and Howard thought the problem was over. During the Easter weekend, Susan and the twins went to visit her folks in Connecticut.  Since Howard had one of his bad migraine headaches, he stayed at home.

The first evening alone, it rained. There was a short in one of the lamps when he tried switching it on and the house when dark. Unplugging the wire, Howard went down to the cellar to turn on the breakers.  Reaching the box, he suddenly felt a cold hand touching his shoulder. Startled, he stepped back and tripped over something and fell to the floor. Standing over him was the stalker, only this time he glowed in a purplish haze that began fading when he started to speak in a steady deep voice.

“At last, we are able to communicate. This is going to be a glorious night for me!”

Frightened and starting to panic, Howard tried to rise from the floor, but was unable to do so.

  “You’ll get up when I am ready to allow you, the specter shouted, frowning with anger.

“My gracious, am I under his control?” Howard thought nervously.

The specter bent down and looked him with large light- blue eyes that seem to pierce into Howard’s soul.

“If you are thinking that I have you under my control, you are absolutely correct.”

“But why choose me?” the frightened man asked.

“You will find that out when I get my wish. In the meantime, if you promise to cooperate and don’t try escaping, we can go upstairs where it will be more comfortable while I tell you my story.”

Howard nodded. The cellar was so damp and dingy.

Upstairs, the phantom looked around and rubbed his hands gleefully

“My house has held up well.”

 “What do you mean your house?  This place is mine; lock, stock, and barrel,” Howard replied indignantly.  “In any case, just who are you anyway?”

“Better you should ask who I once was,” replied the phantom.  “My name is Cort Van Tassel.  I designed and built this house for myself back in 1890. I was quite a successful young architect then and had everything to live for; youth, wealth, and recently engaged to one of the most beautiful women in this state. Unfortunately, in my time, we did not have the advancement in medicine as you have now. A flu epidemic suddenly struck the town of Winfield shortly after I moved into this house and I was one of the first persons to succumb from the sickness.  After my death, the estate could not bear to keep this house and sold it.

My restless soul could find no peace and kept wandering this vicinity, wishing to try and find a way of living again.  It seemed so unfair to be so unjustly cut off from the prime of life.  Especially since I had always tried doing good deeds by helping aid the poor and other unfortunates  who passed my way. I never missed a church service, praying for peace on earth to which I now have come to a conclusion is an uncaring and unjust god.  Then one midnight, not too long ago, a hooded figure known as the supreme master of the underworld appeared before me.  He promised to help me if I would be loyal to him and find a soul that would become his once I decided to take over that person’s physical body.”

 Howard was aghast. “Why would you make a pact with such evil that spreads unmitigated suffering throughout the universe?”

Cort moved closer to Howard and clasped his shoulders. “Because I will get what I most want!”

“Just what has this to do with you haunting me?” the doomed man asked, in denial of his fate.

The phantom began to lose patience and become annoyed.

“Is your mind so slow as not to understand?   After carefully observing those now living, you sir, are the person I want to take over.  Now, brace yourself, for in a few moments my soul will enter your body and yours will become the property of the master.”

Howard only had time to give one blood-curdling scream as the transformation between the body and their souls took place.

When Susan and the twins came home a couple of days later, they did not notice at first how Howard was glancing at them with such an evil expression.  Working for the master as a living entity on earth had begun.


The town of Winfield had always been a pleasant place to live in, but then during the following spring a series of terrible accidents began to occur. The first took the lives of Howard’s wife and sons when his family went rowing on a lake near their home and the boat’s capsized.  Howard valiantly tried saving the others, but failing, just about managed to swim back to safety.   Despite his grief, people admired how he put even more effort into his job than before.  A year later, while accompanying the most outstanding students in his high school on a bus trip to the city, the vehicle lost control and veered into oncoming traffic, exploding as it crashed into a number of vehicles. Many souls were lost, but luck was with Howard again, and he was the only one there to survive the tragedy.

Continuing to remain focused on his job, Howard gained many influential friends in the county, and was asked if he would run as state senator.

“Ah, yes, I would like to do that. I can be so much more effective when serving in that capacity,” he said enthusiastically, an unholy glare coming from his eyes.

THE END                                   



Writing Prompt: I’m curious what other writers would do with this story. Has a build up for something sinister right before the epilogue. Send me what you come up with. Send to


Award Winning Horror!

This just in, Clive Carpenter’s CONFESSION is now an award winning short story thanks to Dark Corner Books’ Short Horror Story Contest!

Confession is well-written dark tale that quickly grabs the readers with a grave and heavy tale of a mother with a sick hobby of killing her children. Her only regret is that she has yet to achieve the perfect score. I proudly stated before that Confession is indeed a heavy hitter on the Tome, and I still stand by that today.

Please visit Clive Carpenter’s site and tell him what you think of Confession!



[Review] Deadgirl


As a horny high schooler that spends more time checking out the girls than doing actual work, what would you do if you stumbled upon a dead girl chained to a bed? A dead girl that is moving, but lacks a pulse. A living dead girl that is spread eagle on a table and at the mercy of your sick desires. What would you do?

If you let her be, then you’re a horrible person for not ending her suffering. But this girl just cannot die. One could argue that it may not even feel anymore, and even if it did, she had lost her right when she died, right?

If you free her, then you’re a horrible person because now what is very dangerous and willing to attack anything it can is now free. Thank you. Your bleeding heart will help cause someone’s death in the future.

If you fingerbang her, then you’ve just engaged in necrophilia and could use years of therapy. By violating a corpse, you’re a sick fuck, but by violating a living corpse are you a rapist sick fuck? She can’t say no, and most certainly did not say yes. Is necrophilia rape?

We all know one or two assholes when we were in our teens that would more than likely do something of the sick fuck nature. Think about it, most teenage boys only really think of one thing and that’s finding something to stick their dick in. Any mother of a teenage boy can tell you that she finds her lotions, various lotions, and good god the Icy-Hot, in various states of use in the bathroom. She might also tell you that she find grapefruits with holes dug into them. Why is that? Because teenage boys are horny fucks. Would it be so hard to imagine that teenage boys would have their way with a living corpse?


Of course not. The actually reality isn’t what people have a problem with, it’s the ethics of the situation. Deadgirl, directed by Marcel Sarmiento and Gadi Harel, raises and explores the ethical considerations of violating an undead body and the pressure of group think. The boys don’t violate the living dead girl because they’re sick pigs. Rather, they go through a process of evaluating their options and eventually come to the conclusion that since she is dead that it wouldn’t matter what they do to her. They might be sick fucks, but once again, are they rapist sick fucks?

I found the movie to be executed quite well. The cinematography is great. The writing and story worked well together. But mostly, I enjoyed the film for its commentary. The teens seemed believable and a product of their time, and even after they had rationalized why fucking an undead girl is okay, they struggled with cognitive dissonance. Deadgirl isn’t a slasher or a zombie flick or even a traditional horror. Deadgirl is about teenagers struggling with the morals of a decision that they’ve made. If that sounds like something you would like to watch, then do it.

Deadman’s Tome has explored necrophilia a handful of times. I don’t expect readers to be appalled by the idea of porking cold dead flesh, but I wouldn’t be surprised if people had a debate over if it would be OK to poke cold undead flesh. Seriously, this is a question I extend to the readers. Is necrophilia a victim-less crime? So what if the corpse can move, that’s essentially a zombie, and no sane person would argue that zombies have rights, right?



Are Horror Films Racist?


Jason doesn’t give two fucks what race you are. He’s going to kill you.

Every horror film fanatic knows before getting into a horror film that couples that fuck are doomed to die and that black guy (sometimes girl) is most likely going to be first to die. The trope is so pervasive that one doesn’t even need to be a horror fanatic to know of it. But why is it that it’s the black blood that’s spilt first?

Is horror racist? After all, one would be hard press to find at least a dozen of horror films where black person survives to the end, and even harder to double that with a black lead role.

To honestly tackle this question, we first need to understand why white people dominate the horror scene. Writers work best when they write from what they know, from experience, and in the event they do not know, then from the research that they’ve done. Even the writers featured on this site rarely write about something that they have no clue about, or don’t feel comfortable tackling. As a white male and as a writer, I’m wouldn’t feel comfortable writing from a black man’s perspective, because I don’t honestly know the nuance of his life to really flesh out a compelling and believable narrative.


Chucky want’s to play and anybody with a pulse will do.

Though not exclusive to the horror genre, one could argue that the writers are simply stemming from what they know and understand. Most of the writers in horror are white, which explains why most horror films feature white lead roles. And let’s face it, if you’re not a lead role in a horror film, you’re probably going to die, which explains why the black man is often one of the firsts to go, and is hardly ever standing in one piece at the end. If the order in which the characters die is racist, then well, we’re talking about the order in which fictional characters die in a story that was most likely written by a white male without much of any thought of “is this racist”.


Madame LaLaurie is racist AF, though.

Perhaps there are the exceptional few, the few writers that get off on killing the black man first, but to believe that writers have some sort cabal against blacks in horror is insane, right? It’s not like there is some grand conspiracy to keep the black man out from horror, and to make that assumption without evidence of secret backroom meetings where whites secretly vow to systematically ban the black man would be insane.

George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead has a black lead role. Se7en has a black lead role. Halloween H20 has a black lead role. Blade has a black lead role. Event Horizon has a black lead role. Candyman has a black lead role. The white man is not systematically keeping the black man from entering horror.

So back to the question, is horror racist? No. White lead roles out number black lead roles, sure. But, that’s not a product of racism, not on face value alone. A studio would be engaging in racist behavior if they wrote OUT black characters or black lead roles because of racial preference alone.

The kill order in horror is not even racist. That’s right. I’ll even go as far as to say that the black guy dies first stereotype isn’t even racist. Jason and Michael Myers aren’t going out of their way to ONLY kill black people. These two murderous psychos kill everything that crosses their path: black, white, gay, lesbian, Jew, Muslim. These two iconic psychos are equal opportunity killing machines.

But, perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps, I’m missing something. Maybe Jason and Michael are the result of deep seeded racism, but that allegation would need some evidence other than they killed off a black character.