Showing results by author "Rosalie Parker" in All Categories

"NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS": The house next door stood empty for nearly two years and the Carringtons soon grew accustomed to the extra psychic space. They took to holding séances in the back garden at odd times of the day and night and, more prosaically, were free to shout to each other from all parts of the house, slam doors whenever they felt like it, and come and go without their every movement being scrutinised.

This first collection of tales by Rosalie Parker contains eight stories that explore the uncanny in the modern world. As Glen Cavaliero observes in his introduction, "like all good stories of the preternatural, these in The Old Knowledge have a subversive effect." In them, "the world of logical, predictable reality is seen to be at risk from rejected modes of knowledge which can thwart the materialist and victimise those innocents who stumble into another order of reality."

The Birdcage was one of the surprisingly large number of establishments listed in directories of the most haunted pubs of England. It acquired its name during the Napoleonic Wars, when it was a jail for captured French soldiers.

Despite the argument they held hands until they reached the cinema, then she felt his fingers slip away. Next to her she saw not Callum but a man taking a photograph of the Art Deco building. Callum was nowhere to be seen.

The city was locked in a kind of permanent twilight. George could not get used to the sun hanging dimly halfway down the sky, its residual brightness hidden behind the clouds. This after it had risen at nine-thirty, with sunset due around four.

Rosalie Parker runs the independent UK publishing house Tartarus Press with R. B. Russell. Her previous collections include The Old Knowledge (Swan River Press 2010) and Damage (PS Publishing 2016). "In the Garden" was selected for Best New Horror 21 (2010), and "Random Flight" for Best British Horror 2015. Rosalie lives in Coverdale, North Yorkshire, the magnificent landscape of which inspires and sometimes provides the settings for her writing. HOLIDAY READING: The book fair was held in the town every August, when many locals were away.

"There are many ways to tell a story... It is a question of choosing the right one." - "Sparks from the Fire" The stories in Sparks from the Fire explore a wide variety of familiar characters and settings, yet there is always something else a shadow world that haunts, disturbs, and threatens. Sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, recluses and lovers all find themselves shifting between realities: the prosaic and the mystical, even between life and death. The horrors and wonders of these parallel existences are often glimpsed, sometimes revealed, and occasionally overwhelm.

We had no intention of going away that summer. Carrie had come to stay with me for a couple of weeks before we started at separate universities in the autumn.

Old Father Thames so the song has it but she's more of a mother, that's what I've come to think. She started off young and beautiful, useful, the life-blood of the city.

All through August Abigail looked out for the ship, counting the masts on each vessel and reading their names before they reached the harbour.

The Robinsons arrived late in the evening; he in black tie and she in a long cocktail dress of sheer red silk. Neither Rachel nor Clive could remember inviting them, but they hoped the couple might enliven what was threatening to become a rather dull event.

On a fine day, the dale could hold its own. White clouds scudded across a pale blue sky, casting shape-shifting shadows over the land, and just before dusk a translucent light bathed the fells in a fairy glow.

It was nearly midday when, bleary-eyed, Paula struggled up the last few metres of the slope. Lawrence's leaving party had drifted into the early hours, even though it was the middle of the working week, and in the morning, when he kissed her goodbye and got into the taxi, she had felt the first surge of panic.

Penny's survey of Luscombe Manor, a honey-toned, seventeenth-century house with Victorian additions, was taking much longer than she'd anticipated. The owner, Percy Davington, didn't seem to mind, however, and, going into the warm kitchen to eat her packed lunches, she often found him waiting for her with a glass of good dry sherry.

Like most children I dreamed that I could fly and that I could take giant bounding leaps across the landscape. On summer mornings I would try this out on my way to school, hoping to find myself far above the tarmacked lane, looking down on the fields and my friends below.

Joel had applied for the Rawthorpe Award with very low expectations and so he was extremely surprised to receive a letter from the Foundation telling him that he was the recipient of one of the ten writers' bursaries on offer that year.

Clarinda stared open mouthed at the squat little creature, its amber eyes gleaming in the afternoon sun, its moist, warty skin taut over the rubbery flesh beneath.

Lucy was an awkward child, unlike Oliver and Sam who, when it was dry, played outside most of the time. She spent a great deal of the summer holiday visiting the library, reading in her room and researching online.

All through August Abigail looked out for the ship, counting the masts on each vessel and reading their names before they reached the harbour.

It's unlikely you'll read this as it's hidden on my computer, saved under 'lists'. If it comes to light it will hurt you, Lars, and I'm sorry for that.