Haunts and Howls Where Demons Dwell: Haunts and Howls Collections
By Kat Simons
()
About this ebook
Dare to tread where demons prowl…
Hidden beneath the surface of the everyday world. Lurking in darkness. Haunting the shadows. Looming just outside the light. The demons call to the unwary, leaving the unsuspecting to fend off doom.
Where demons cavort, heroes arise to battle the encroaching evil. Needing everything they've got. Magic. Will. Bravery. And hope for the return of the light.
For lovers of spooky fantasy tales, don't miss this collection of five original contemporary fantasy stories from bestselling author Kat Simons, including an all new Demon Hunter story.
Kat Simons
Kat Simons earned her Ph.D in animal behavior, working with animals as diverse as dolphins and deer. She brought her experience and knowledge of biology to her paranormal romance fiction, where she delights in taking nature and turning it on its ear. After traveling the world, she now lives in New York City with her family. Kat is a stay-at-home mom and a full time writer.
Other titles in Haunts and Howls Where Demons Dwell Series (3)
Haunts and Howls and Jesters Bells: Haunts and Howls Collections, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHaunts and Howls and Fairy Dales: Haunts and Howls Collections, #4 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHaunts and Howls Where Demons Dwell: Haunts and Howls Collections Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Titles in the series (3)
Haunts and Howls and Jesters Bells: Haunts and Howls Collections, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHaunts and Howls and Fairy Dales: Haunts and Howls Collections, #4 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsHaunts and Howls Where Demons Dwell: Haunts and Howls Collections Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Haunts and Howls Where Demons Dwell - Kat Simons
Dare to tread where demons prowl…
Hidden beneath the surface of the everyday world. Lurking in darkness. Haunting the shadows. Looming just outside the light. The demons call to the unwary, leaving the unsuspecting to fend off doom.
Where demons cavort, heroes arise to battle the encroaching evil. Needing everything they’ve got. Magic. Will. Bravery. And hope for the return of the light.
For lovers of spooky fantasy tales, don’t miss this collection of five original contemporary fantasy stories from bestselling author Kat Simons, including an all new Demon Hunter story.
HAUNTS AND HOWLS WHERE DEMONS DWELL
A CONTEMPORARY FANTASY COLLECTION
KAT SIMONS
T&D PublishingHAUNTS AND HOWLS WHERE DEMONS DWELL
Copyright © 2022 by Katrina Tipton
Cover design: © 2022 T&D Publishing
Cover Art: © Nelieta | Dreamstime.com
Published by: T&D Publishing
T&D Publishing: https://www.tanddpublishing.com
Kat Simons Website: https://www.katsimons.com
Kat Simons Newsletter: https://bit.ly/KatSimonsNewsletter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
CONTENTS
Introduction
Friday’s Curious Shop
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Anger Management
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Burning Inside a Stone Circle
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The Museum of Small Art’s Everyman
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Demonic Dates
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Excerpt From Bone Lantern Witch
Chapter 1
Books By Kat Simons
About the Author
To those who love a little demonic spookiness
in their fantasy stories.
And to my family.
You’re my heart walking outside my body.
INTRODUCTION
In 2021, I published a collection of contemporary fantasy stories called Haunts and Howls and Guardian Spells, in which I had five stories all tied into a theme of Guardians and Protectors, with a spooky twist. I had so much fun with that collection, I decided to write another one in a similar vein—with Haunts and Howls—but with a different theme. The stories that rolled out of me determined the theme. And that theme turned out to be Demons.
I can’t help but wonder if there wasn’t some underlying, Freudian meaning to that, given the year that was in it.
Or maybe I just like spooky stories with demons in them.
I have two different urban fantasy series that feature demons quite prominently. One, the Cary Redmond series, starts with demon trouble, and as of book seven, ends with demon trouble. There’s going to be more books in that series, but the arc of the first seven books is done now, and there was a lot of demon stuff involved.
My spin off of that series doesn’t even pretend. It’s called the Demon Witch series, and follows the early years of one of Cary Redmond’s best friends, the witch Angie Jordan. A character that shows up in both series is the legendary demon hunter, Aidan. Demon. Hunter. Legend. Of course, she also makes an appearance in this collection. She has a habit of showing up when demons are around. Just saying. There’s also a second novella in this collection with a not-so-subtle nod to the Demon Witch series, as well. Hard to avoid when my theme matched so perfectly with those books.
The collection starts with Friday’s Curious Shop (and yes that’s spelled correctly), my ode to an old TV show from the late 80s that I dedicated many a Friday night’s viewing to. The show, for the other Olds reading this, was Friday the 13th the Series—not related in any way to the Friday the 13th movies about Jason the relentless killer of teenage campers. I loved that TV show in all its creepy, spooky campiness. At the time, I loved being scared and watched a lot of spooky TV and movies—think Creepshow, Elvira Mistress of the Dark, Tales from the Crypt. This show stuck with me over the years, and while I’m not sure it would hit quite the same way now, in 2022, as it did back in the 80s, my memories of it are fond ones.
By the way, the spelling… I had meant to write Curios, not Curious, when I typed in the title for this story, but when I caught the spelling mistake, I loved it. Kept it. And it fits really well with the story. (My youngest loved the title too—no, he didn’t read the story. This is grown up fantasy, and he is not a grown up yet. But he likes helping with things like titles.)
Given the inspiration for this one is a series, I might end up turning this story into a series as well. We’ll see. Oh, and Cary Redmond readers, there’s an easter egg in here. I’m curious (pun intended) if you’ll spot it. I might have been too subtle. LOL
Next up, Anger Management. This is the novella featuring the above-mentioned legendary demon hunter, Aidan. But it’s not her story. It’s actually the story of a dhampir with an anger issue. I wrote this novella at the same time as I was writing a light, low angst contemporary romance novel (Designed for You, if you’re interested). I wrote both in the autumn of 2021, when I was feeling overwhelmed and scared sending my kids back to school in the midst of an ongoing pandemic—while my youngest still didn’t have a vaccine—and angry with so much going on in the world at that time. I have a core of anger that got fed by all the turmoil of that year here in the US. And while the light contemporary romance helped me escape from some of that overwhelm and worry, my anger needed an outlet, too. That’s where my dhampir Quinn came in. I actually had a dream one night in which I met this character for the first time. The next morning, I started her story. Couldn’t help myself. I went back and forth between this novella and the romance novel. Two very different moods, but both helped me get through a tough time. And, despite the heavier and very angry mood of this novella, it was really fun to write.
Burning Inside a Stone Circle is the now-for-something-a-little-different story in the collection. The demons here are all internal, though the struggle to face them is still a matter of more than just personal destruction. The demons in this story are ones I related to strongly. And it might be too personal a story to release into the wide world. Only, I know everyone will bring their own experiences and perspective to it and won’t view it quite the same way I do, so that helps. I won’t say which parts are personal and which are made up, mainly because I want you to read the story, not spoil it in the introduction! I will say, though, I cried both while writing this one and during the edits. Frankly, that surprised me. By the edits, I’d forgotten how much of me I’d put into the story (and how much I’d held back). But what’s that saying about writers? All we do is sit down in front of the blank page and open a vein? Well, in many ways, that’s what I did in Burning Inside a Stone Circle. No regrets.
Next, we get back to actual demons. Or…maybe actual demons? That’s the mystery of it all. And The Museum of Small Art’s Everyman is more of mysterious story. A crime story, with a murder, inside a museum, surrounding by demonic art. There’s not a lot I can say about it, though, without giving potential spoilers. So I will just say this is another one that I can see lending itself to series potential—I really liked the heroine, Anne, and her dynamic with the police detective. But that’s all I’ll say about it here. Mysteries are best left mysterious.
To finish up, we have Demonic Dates. This is the other story that links into the Demon Witch series in a peripheral way. The witch at the heart of this novella is mentioned in Spiderweb Witch, book two in the series. I’m the kind of writer who writes into the dark, without outlining, and so when I started this story, I thought I was writing a certain kind of tale. I was a little surprised by the turns it took, but pleasantly so. I hope readers enjoy those turns as much as I did.
This one also harkens more to my paranormal romance roots than anything else in the collection, because of course, I had to write at least one story like that. The theme of demons, and haunts and howls, is of course here again, but a secondary theme of anger seems to have worked its way into these stories, and is evident again in this final entry. I suppose that makes sense when dealing with stories about demons.
I ended with this particular novella because I really liked the way the last line of this story brings the entire collection to a close.
I hope readers enjoy these newest Haunts and Howls, in all their spooky fun. And if you’re interested in the Demon Witch series after you’ve finished this book, just keep reading for an excerpt from Bone Lantern Witch, book one in the series.
Thanks for reading!
~Kat
FRIDAY’S CURIOUS SHOP
CHAPTER ONE
Riley checked the job listing on her phone. Again. Then looked at the storefront. Again. Yup. This was the place.
Friday’s Curious Shop.
Not curios. No. Curious.
And to be fair, it was a pretty curious place.
But it wasn’t just the spelling mistake—was it a mistake?—that gave her pause. The store itself didn’t engender a lot of trust. Located off a side street in Queens near a massive train depot, lots of personal storage unit buildings, and a few truck parking lots, it wasn’t exactly in a place that got a lot of foot traffic. She’d have assumed an antique-collectibles store would have to at least be in a place where people could find it and might go in spontaneously. It took effort to find this place. She’d walked around the area three times before she’d spotted the sign just off the weird triangle intersection, down a dead end side street that looked awkward banging up against the elevated tracks behind it.
If she went down another of the streets off the triangle intersection, the local fire department and a pharmacy sat next to each other looking perfectly ordinary. And a gas station with a little sundries shop sat at the front of the intersection along Northern Boulevard. The smell of days old trash and gasoline cut sharper in the bitter cold early winter air—another less than appealing lure for pedestrian traffic—and the sound of the N train rumbling past was almost loud enough to block out the sounds of honking traffic on road behind her.
Did she really want to do this interview? She needed a job something bad. Her part of the rent was due in a week and she was down to her last few dollars. If she had a job, with money actually coming in, she knew her roommates would float her this month’s rent long enough for her to get her first paycheck. Without a job, though, they’d kick her out and get someone who could cover their bills. There was no sentimentality in the New York rental life.
Riley didn’t have anywhere else to go. If they kicked her out, she’d be living on the street or bumming space on a friend’s couch. Neither option appealed, especially with winter approaching fast.
Could she really afford to be picky about where she worked? If things didn’t pan out, she could stay long enough to get a little cushion of money and find a new job. Then she could quit.
That was, if she even got the job.
She still had to do the interview. Which wasn’t going to happen if she kept stalling, standing like an idiot on the sidewalk, looking between her phone and the storefront across the street.
Pulling in a deep breath, she checked for traffic—which seemed excessively cautious as this was a dead end street with nothing on it but Friday’s Curious Shop. There was even street parking still free, and yet no one seemed to turn down the road to take advantage of it, even though parking in this area was at a premium this time of day. She considered that as she jogged across the street to the store.
Friday’s Curious Shop had an elaborate wooden sign hanging out front, decorative and large with scrollwork around the name, which was written in some sort of calligraphy design and painted gold against a maroon background. It looked like something out of a different century.
Which in and of itself wouldn’t have been bad. Riley liked old things, and sometimes felt a little out of touch with modern times—except where her cellphone was concerned; they’d have to pry that from her cold, dead hands to get it away from her—so the idea of working in a shop full of old things had appealed to her. She knew, since the store was in Queens and not Manhattan, that the antiques probably weren’t the sort of thing sold at Christies, but she’d have bet a knowledgeable collector would find something valuable. She didn’t really know. She’d never had enough extra money to be a collector of anything. Still, she imagined a used and antique store, even in Queens, might be fun.
But the charm of the place ended at the sign, at least on the outside.
The building was very industrial and functional. The glass windows looking into the store revealed a lot of old brown things piled haphazardly around the place, hard to even distinguish as individual items. There might have been an old wheel? And was that a rusted can? That half rag, half porcelain doll with a torn gray dress and no eyes wasn’t creepy at all.
She shivered.
Did she really need the money this bad?
An icy breeze tunneled down the street, tugging at her worn wool coat and the little bobble at the end of her knit cap, reminding her how very much she did not want to be homeless next month.
She gave the glass front door an experimental shove. It opened soundlessly and smoothly, a little jingle from an overhead bell the only thing announcing a new customer. She wasn’t sure why she’d expected the door to screech in protest, like the hinges were rusted. Like no one had opened the front door in years. The place just sort of felt that way. Old, neglected, tossed aside.
For some reason, that made her sad.
The interior of the store hit her with dim light and hot air. Compared to the harshly bright winter light outside, that darkness forced her to a stop just inside the door while her eyes adjusted. The surrounding dust made her sneeze three times in rapid succession. Yeah, if she got the job, she was going to need to take antihistamines every day. She couldn’t really afford antihistamines.
She blinked as her eyes finally adapted to the low lighting and she got her first good look at her surroundings. She stood perfectly still, afraid if she moved, she’d bump into something. Because there was a lot of stuff. A lot of stuff. Everywhere. Piled on tables, freestanding against walls, piled in the center of the floor. There seemed to be narrow paths cut through the detritus which wove through the store, but she couldn’t see any other immediate organization. Dolls were piled with books next to a chipped tea pot by some tin boxes sitting on top of an old piano against which paintings in huge wooden frames were stacked. Some of the stuff looked like it might just be valuable—contradicting her earlier opinion of the place—but a person would have to be a determined picker to find the valuable in the midst of the chaos.
Duck!
The shout from somewhere in the middle of the stacks of stuff startled Riley so much she actually did duck while looking up. She expected one of the taller piles of stuff to be toppling over on top of her. Instead, she watched a very modern, small drone dip and sway overhead, before barreling past toward the back of the store.
Sorry about that,
said the same voice that had warned her to duck.
She stood slowly, hesitantly, and turned to face the voice. A man roughly the size of a bear stepped from between a stack of books and a large instrument case—maybe for a base fiddle or something? She wasn’t sure. The man was dressed in tweed dress pants, a button-down white shirt, and a vest with a red tartan pattern on the front and black silk on the back. All of which stretched comfortably over a thick, but not fat, body. His red hair and beard were long and blended together so she couldn’t really tell what was hair from his head and hair from his face, but the whole mass was neatly trimmed and clean. There was just a lot of hair. His features beyond all the hair were wide and strong. He had that ruddy color on his cheeks that a lot of white people with red hair seemed to get. His eyes were deep brown, and his brows heavy.
She had no idea how old the man was. With the full beard and mustache covering so much of his face, she had a hard time judging. There were faint creases around his eyes and between his eyebrows, but the furrows on his forehead seemed more from his frown than permanent signs of age.
Damned thing goes the opposite direction it’s supposed to,
he grumbled.
It took her a minute to realize he was talking about the small drone.
Not sure why Doreen thought it would be a good idea.
He tossed a remote-control hand unit onto the