Sirens Call – issue 44

I am please to say that I have 2 pieces of short fiction included within issue 44 of Sirens Call.

It is free to download and contains a fantastic selection of short horror and flash fiction.


February at Housewife of Horror – A Weird and Wonderful Month

February was an odd month for me. Reading wise it’s been quite quiet, one thing and another creeping up and taking me away my from reading time.

I hated the fact that two of my reads became DNFs. I struggle to get into ‘Will Haunt You’ and ‘Black Wings’. Both I was quite excited for. I will come back to them at a later date as potentially I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind for them. I hated Sons of Anarchy when I first watched the first few episodes – came back to it a few months later, and it’s now one of my favorite shows.

I got around to reading ‘Blood in the Woods’ from J. P. Willie. I have had that one a while, and I wasn’t disappointed. It’s a wonderful book, kind of a ‘Stand by Me’/ Horror mash up. It’s well worth your time.

My favorite read of February, of course it was Jonathan Janz with ‘The Dark Game’ – see review excerpt below.

Book of the Month – The Dark Game by Jonathan Janz  –


The Dark Game did not disappoint.

“I am ever developing a deep love for the style of Janz’s writing. I adore his characters, they are as always, full of depth and horrific delights. His stories are inventive and unique, and he has a wonderful penchant for all things gory.

Ten writers of varying ability are taken to the secluded home estate of Roderick Wells, the worlds most famous author. They are promised a great lesson in writing, with the winner taking home not only a healthy pot, but they will also receive the book deal of a lifetime. Of course, things are not always as they seem. What they have fallen prey to is a twisted game, a brutal fight for survival. And in true horror fashion, there are some particularly gruesome ends.

Janz does an impeccable job of creating so many full characters in this novel. They all have their darkness; each character has their own sin to bare. Each character is well thought out and written so flawlessly that you can almost touch them. The back story of the individuals, the sins, they are woven in throughout the novel, intertwining in a perfect harmony with the events occurring at Roderick’s estate.

One of my favorite parts:

“Well’s entered with his wife. Lucy stared at the man, stunned at the change in his appearance. She supposed it was a matter of simple grooming: he’d shaven and the hair around his ears had been trimmed. Yet there was something more at work, something subtler yet more profound. His eyes shone with a vitality that hadn’t been there the first night. The deep grooves in his forehead were less pronounced.”

This is a very intense and immersive read. Thank you so much to Flame Tree Press, and to Jonathan Janz for a copy to read.

Find it here –

The end of February I have to say was the most exciting for me. My short story ‘Fresh Air’ was published in Sirens Call issue 43. I am so excited and so proud. To see something that I created in black and white, published along with many many other wonderful stories by so many talented writers. I am truly honored and overwhelmed.

Thank you so much to the amazing people over at Sirens Call and to those who have stuck by me and supported me. You guys rock!

Check out my story here –

Sirens Call issue 43 is free to download along with all the back issues.

Enjoy, and thank you again.

Bring on March.

Lesley-Ann Campbell

Sirens Call – Issue 43


I wanted to share some exciting news with you all.

I was published in Sirens Call issue 43

My Short piece of flash fiction, Fresh Air, was accepted for publication by the amazing people at Sirens Call. It’s live now and free to download. See link above and below.

I am page 196 – I shall be shouting this from the rooftops until people tell me to shut up. This is so exciting for me, my first (and hopefully not my last) piece of published fiction.

Thank you everyone for sticking with me, you have no idea what you all mean to me.

Check out my story and many other pieces of fantastic work from some amazing ladies of horror here –

Lesley-Ann Campbell

Fresh Air – Flash Fiction

Fresh Air

By L. A. Campbell

The constant rattle, that intrusive low din, and the ever present migraine inducing banging noise. The air conditioning in this office is older than me I swear. It sounds like ten generations of rats are living up there, going about their daily ratty business in a most uncivilised manner.

Sitting behind my now overly sparse desk, sanitised as per the office ‘tidy-desk’ policy, I contemplate my existence in this world. I try to convince myself there is a reason for all of this, all the while pulling an ugly gurning face as I go through the daily motions, repeating the mundane tasks as if I am a programmed robot, mumbling under my breath as I type meaningless emails to my faceless colleagues.

“BANG” I look up, the loud intrusive bang a welcome distraction from my vacuous task. It sounds like the air con people are here again, fixing – to use the term loosely – the ageing system. Just one problem with that, there is no one here; the air con people were here yesterday repairing it. There are no cars outside, nor any work vans. I am all alone here.

“BANG” a second loud bang, louder, it’s getting closer to me. I can see the ceiling panels expand and contract with the motion. What is this?

A rattle louder than overhead thunder. I jump up from my chair, alarmed by the closing chaos. I thought I was all alone here.

Backing myself up, unnerved both by the ensuing commotion and my own fears of loneliness and isolation, I instinctively want to run and hide in one of the less than appealing bathroom stalls.

Resisting my urge to flee and cower, a somewhat sensible option, I instead drag my chair over towards my doom. I pull myself up onto the filing cabinet and slowly lift one of the ceiling tiles, revealing the inner workings of this old and somewhat deteriorating shell.

Raising myself up, my tiptoes dancing off the edge of the cabinet, all the while looking around for what I hope are the repair men that I have just missed coming in. It all seems quiet, too quiet, just an empty space above the misery of day to day working life, followed by an even emptier feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Just as I turn to lower myself back to the mundane, I sense something. Turning, I am hit with the force of a truck, knocked backwards from the chair, my back crunching as it hits the corner of a desk. I barely manage a scream, a silent whimper, before I am overcome. Then there is nothing, just blackness and silence. I am one with the darkness now.

No more mundane. I wonder if my boss will even notice.

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