Horror Fiction by John Monsees
If things have been a little quiet around here lately, don’t worry—nothing’s wrong. No cursed typewriters. No eldritch entities dragging me screaming into the dark. Just the less glamorous truth: a lot of work happening offstage. Over the past few months, my focus has shifted …
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Alright, sickos, here’s the state of play. First up: The Millfield Terror is coming at you October 28th—just in time for Halloween. Ecological madness, creeping dread, lots of gory death-by-centipede. Before that, on October 14th, I’m dropping a little splatterpunk nastiness called Fatso—a novella that’s …
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It’s been a while since I’ve posted here, and I owe you an explanation. The truth is, I burned myself out. Between April and August I wrote six novels—three Grindhouse Horror books and a few others under different names—plus nine short stories I’m currently shopping …
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Writing Multiple Projects at Once Keeps the Creativity Flowing As a horror writer, I thrive on chaos—both on the page and in my process. Right now, I’m juggling a grindhouse novel, a splatterpunk/extreme horror novella, and two short stories: one a swords-and-sorcery horror tale set …
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I’ve been writing stories for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I filled notebooks with horror tales, fantasy adventures, and pulpy sci-fi, usually scribbled in a frenzy of inspiration before moving on to the next idea. I was a D&D-obsessed, book-devouring monster, …
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We’re deep in the guts of Feeding Ground, and I’m happy to report things are squelching along nicely. The new Act 3 is shaping up to be a real butcher’s special—more tension, more blood, and some extremely bad decisions made under duress (my favorite kind). …
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Two chapters down. Four to go. The final act of Feeding Ground is coming together in all its gnashing, pulpy glory—and believe me, it’s meaner, leaner, and a hell of a lot hungrier than the last draft. This weekend was a mess of coffee, scribbled …
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Let’s talk crab guts, coastal rot, and the sweet agony of rewriting an ending that just didn’t hit hard enough. I’m neck-deep in the final draft of Feeding Ground, and like any good bloodbath, things are getting messy. Originally, I thought I was on the …
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“Something’s moving in the estuary. And it’s hungry.” Tourists are vanishing. The sea smells wrong. And ex-Royal Marine turned crab fisherman Jack Harwood just hauled up something in his pots that damn near took his arm off. Welcome to Saltwick Bay — a dying town …
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