PsychoHead Fiction Book One

By T.D. Green

A collection of short fiction; psycho-horror, supernatural, fantasy and psychotic behaviour.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.D. Green
• Release date: Oct 3, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452387123

T.D. Green

Hi there. I'm a guy who enjoys creating new things, ranging from short stories to poetry [children's too] and thus writing is an enjoyable pastime for me, beit psycho fiction, sci-fi, supernatural or fantasy, when the inspiration strikes - I write. Art is my second love, and when the mood strikes me, I'll do a landscape painting on box canvas, using acrylic paints. Very relaxing! I usually give them away to friends and family. As for my writings, I've had some works published in paperback and hardback down the years; short story and an assortment of poems. I've dabbled with screenwriting in the past, which is quite an enjoyable, yet complex style. My taste in music is varied too, ranging from modern to classical, and if it sounds good to my ears, I like it. Lady GaGa is a favourite of mine at the present time. Righto, there you have it, a little bit of me and my favourite things. I'd like to thank those who have read this short bio, and also those who have left comments about my ebooks - much appreciated!

Book preview

PsychoHead Fiction

Book One

T.D.Green

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010

Smashwords Edition Licence Notes

Thank you for downloading this free eBook. You are welcome to share this book with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete and original form. If you enjoyed reading this book, please mention it to others for their consideration. Thank you for your support, it's highly appreciated.

Contents

A Sculptor's Summer [psycho-horror]

Doll Face [psychotic romance]

Laura Dark [supernatural]

Through The Eyes of Pauline [general fiction]

Astral Nomads [fantasy]

Red Moon [sci-fi]

A Sculptor's Summer

June is the month when inspiration really flows through me; the icy breath of a winter's chill inspires no-one.

Being an artist - a sculptor - creating shape and texture is the art form I love, but it has been a long, hard struggle to attain the recognition which I truly deserve. There have been many critics since my childhood days, and every one of them poured scorn on my creations, spitting venom with every word that left their lips. No praise was given to my works, no encouragement offered. The first critic of my style of art was given a taste of what it felt like to be humiliated ...

Mrs Jessop, the ageing art teacher, slowly began to move about the classroom, stopping occasionally at a desk to check on the work in progress. Seldom did what met her gaze please her. Especially my work.

Mrs Jessop eventually came to a standstill beside my desk, silent and daunting, letting go heavy sighs of disappointment carried on minty breath. I didn't look up to acknowledge her presence. I didn't have to, I knew what was duly going to leave her mouth. Some moments later, what I knew was coming, did.

Robert, what are those supposed to be? she enquired, pointing an accusing finger at my drawing of a frog, with several steel spikes protruding from various angles of its body.

Steel spikes, Mrs Jessop, I replied, not looking up.

Those heavy sighs of disappointment now turned to a very audible gasp of utter disbelief. She stooped forward, resting the flat of her hands on my desk to support her upper body.

Robert Chase, the frog is dead, then ... yes? she spat out aloud so all in the class could hear. "What's the point in