Addison Horner
Bio
I love fantasy epics, action thrillers, and those blurbs about farmers on boxes of organic mac and cheese. MARROW AND SOUL (YA fantasy) available February 5, 2024.
Achievements (8)
Stories (47/0)
Ripe
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Yesenia wondered why Diós would send a little girl like her to a place so cold and desolate. She had spent a thousand nights in that clearing, staring at the darkened windows, waiting for the sunrise to bring her back from her dreams.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Campfire Ghost Story Challenge
You Wanted to Be Alone
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The wind swirled into the room, stirring the scattered leaves on the floor and riffling the blankets strewn across the ratty green couch in front of the fireplace. It swept underneath closed doors, touching every inch of the desiccated cabin before rustling the moth-eaten curtains on its way out. The candle burned on.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Horror
- Runner-Up in The Fantasy Prologue
Stories of DragonsRunner-Up in The Fantasy Prologue
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. For generations, parents had kept their children on a steady diet of horrifying stories featuring the flying beasts. They were the monsters at the edge of the night, the sharp-toothed consequences for young people who strayed from the wisdom of their elders. Naughty children get nipped, parents warned, and evil children get eaten.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction
TOUCH | Part 6 (Finale)
Melted snow left a slick puddle of water on the tile floor of the Bayfield police station’s entrance. Officers and civilians cycled in and out of the building, striding through slender hallways with determined purpose. The arrest of two armed mercenaries and the refugee family currently sitting in the crowded break room was more drama than the town had seen all winter.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction
TOUCH | Part 4
Read PART 1 | Read PART 2 | Read PART 3 Sean remembered falling into unconsciousness. The attached sensations – the sharp pain of the rock colliding with his skull, the blood seeping from his head wound, the cool floor of the trailer – were distant and inaccessible. Sean accepted that others felt those things, but to him they were part of a language he could never learn.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction
TOUCH | Part 3
Read PART 1 | Read PART 2 ~ Sean studied the holes that the bullets had punctured into his chest. He guessed that one bullet had gone directly into his heart, and that the other two had lodged into the tissue just above his left ribcage. Whoever this woman Betty was, she was a good shot, and willing to kill without hesitation. It hadn’t made any difference.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction
TOUCH | Part 2
Read PART 1 of this story here. ~ Sean stood his ground on the icy pavement as the two “officers” approached. The driver was a short, stocky man wearing a blue police cap over shaggy black hair. His uniform, if he wore one, was covered by a thick woolen jacket that extended down to his knees. His hand hovered casually beside his holster as he closed the car door and approached. His passenger was a woman taller even than Sean’s six-foot-one frame. She wore a blue uniform with no jacket, and short curls of blonde hair stuck out from beneath a knit cap.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction
TOUCH | Part 1
It was the last snowstorm of the season, and the fiercest. Gusts of freezing wind buffeted the black pickup that drove alone down State Road 13. Ice built up on the windshield faster than the defroster could melt it. Yellow headlights pierced the snow flurries that fell from thick cloud cover. The truck wove its way around snowdrifts and icy patches on chained tires. Inside, a sixteen-year-old boy wearing a short-sleeved tee and ripped blue jeans kept a careful foot on the gas.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction
Serenity
The redwoods were the most beautiful sight Jack had ever seen. Their kingdom covered the dewy slopes of yellow grass for miles and miles and miles, surrounding the Sea of Galilee, sentinels under a synthetic sky. Not one measured under ten feet across, and the oldest trunks rivaled the breadth of Jack Breyer’s old apartment in Bethel North. The redwoods were home, and Jack was leaving them today.
By Addison Horner2 years ago in Fiction