Dani Brown

The Devil Knows Your Name. Learn his. Earth has become a playground for the "Big Man Downstairs" to shell out punishment to the most disgusting and vile scumbags of our society. A racist cop, a murderous Karen, and a psychotic rapist are just three of the "touched by malevolence" targets on the devil's personal damnation list. Call Me Hoop is a totally unique form of horror narrative where eight different authors bring you twelve entwined stories that will change everything you know about heaven... and hell Always one step ahead of you, when Sonny Hooper asks you to call him Hoop, the trap is already set. Be prepared to pay for your sins. Fiction From: Drew StepekLucy LeitnerLucas MillironJohn Shupeck, Jr. Lewis KellyPeter CaffreyDani BrownRyan Harding

A nauseating expedition into the minds of ten indie writers that refuse to accept boundaries exist. Repulsive Tales is not an anthology for the faint of heart or stomach of the weak. Contained within are stories that tickle the gag reflex and conjure the horrors that lurk in the shadows around every corner. Each piece, although grotesque and demented, is much more than the average splattergore shocker. Mingled amidst Quentin Tarantino's Wet Dream and a twisted tale about the love for John Stamos, are stories that represent everyday people, maybe even your neighbor, that have blood on their hands and dark secrets to hide. Share in the terror that is Jed's Homemade Soup and learn to hate That Damned Dog while you enjoy a Dinner to Die for and just say Fork You to everything you once loved. Will you make it all the way through without puking at each Repulsive Tale? Featuring stories by The Queen of Filth - Dani Brown, Brian Glossup, Essel Pratt, Howard Carlyle, J. L. Lane, James H. Longmore, Jason Morton, Michael Noe, Rob Glagow, and William Bradley.

You will never be able to see the Wizard of Oz in the same way again Follow the JEA authors as they take their twisted imaginations down the famous Yellow Brick Road. In this book, you will see alternative fates for Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion, and their many friends, as well as bizarre twists on some of Frank L. Baum's other Oz story-lines.

LALA found she couldn't move. The molten plastic acted as a glue to keep her in place. It was hard to move with a fist inside herself anyways. But that hasn't stopped her from answering the door in the past, usually to Jehovah's Witnesses who ran off puking and gouging out their own eyes with their fingertips. She wanted to make it easier for her anus to swallow green Monopoly houses by altering her position. The molten, hardening plastic wouldn't allow it. It seemed to her that it had a mind of its own. The government and shadow government both prayed to different Gods it would kill her. Then the black hole would die as it would have served its purpose. She wanted more houses, less already-molten plastic. Molten plastic didn't hold the same potential for pleasure as emerald green houses. Game pieces, if they somehow passed through her still solid, could fill her anus and sealed vagina, making her feel like a turkey fresh from the oven on Thanksgiving....

Dani Brown's second person experimental piece you've been waiting years for. Witness first hand as a fiction author breaks the list of writing rules (or a list, there are many of these things). You wake up. Your day doesn't get much better after that. Dive into your mind as your body releases every bit of fluid it had and then more. When your mind is done with you, it is your body's turn. Is there any hope for you?

After his mother dies from a "three strikes" health care rule, fourteen-year-old Cody loses faith in his physician father who, despite his best efforts, was unable to save her. Three years later, as a seventeen-year-old high school senior, Cody must decide whether to continue to care for his younger sisters or pursue his own dreams of attending college. His decision is further complicated when he finds a disturbing letter meant for his father. Choices become even more limited when his father tells him the government has demanded he work for them. Uncertain of their future in America, Cody's dad decides the family must escape to Canada. The children are admitted to America's northern neighbor due to a computer glitch, but their father is arrested by government agents. Cody and his sisters are desperate to help their remaining parent, and the struggle ahead of them will see them face the most difficult decisions of their young lives. In the vein of The Giver and The Swiss Family Robinson, Choices is a dramatic coming-of-age tale that tackles challenging social issues against a rich backdrop of adventure and suspense.

There was a time when toenails were plentiful and I could swallow one down while pressing the button for eight more minutes of blissful sleep. Clamminess washed over me. There was no way I would be able to make it to work like this. I needed toenails to start my morning right. In the grips of withdrawal I could not think of anything other than toenails and scoring toenails. Toenails were all that mattered. Ripping the duvet away from the wife was the difficult part. She held it in death's grip beneath her chin and tucked between her legs. I became used to never having any blanket - not even a little patch. I would crank up the heat when I woke with my midnight toenail cravings regardless of the season; a little bit of spite courtesy of good ol' dad. My wife would still be reluctant to liberate the duvet despite sleeping in a pool of her own sweat that turned the flakes of dead skin into slush. I once tried to satisfy my cravings with this skin slush; day-long diarrhoea left me on the toilet and the family had to use the outdoor one. Shaking, it was more difficult to pry the duvet away from her. The withdrawals became worse each day. It seemed her grip on the duvet became tighter as the withdrawals became worse - her subconscious conspiring against me. The back of her mind knew I was no good for her and should trade her in for a younger model. I only needed access to her feet. Toe jam wasn't as good a substitute for toenails as dick cheese but I needed to make it into work today and every other day for the rest of the fucking year. The board of directors were the biggest bunch of loser arse-ferrets this world has ever seen. I could not even provide an accurate description of what it was I did all day or a clear title for the job that would be on the line if I had a sick day.

Rae is her name. Our support group of embittered and most likely deranged women are going to kidnap, torture, disembowel and finally kill the woman who has ruined all our lives. As foul and as grotesque as she is, she acts like she's Queen of the Bean. Rae, her buck-tooth grin and rosy cheeks of middle age acne reflected winter sun. Straw-like blonde hair obscured by the veil and tiara she enjoyed parading around in. She walked past our window with sickening confidence oblivious to us and our weak tea. Rae. Everything was always about Rae. Was she a princess today, or was she a bride? Did she know or care? Did it even matter? We wished we could be that delusional and walk around with an air of not giving a damn. Rae believes she is above the pain she has caused. Beyond the whimpering of her victims. Out of reach of vengeance. Our support group of women do not agree. Judgement day is here for Rae. Our support group will enjoy every moment of agonizing torment and misery we will force her to endure. Rae has got it coming.