Sunburn and Ruin Sunburn and Ruin

Sunburn and Ruin

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Publisher Description

The collected horror fiction of Steve Roach, Volume 1.

In 1852 the whaling ship Nautilus leaves New Bedford and embarks upon a route to the South Pacific, a journey that will lead them to the hunting grounds of the magnificent sperm whales.
Once there, they set about their business of killing whales, a task that Captain Grice relishes beyond any other Earthly pleasure. But one of the whales they hunt is different. Sick, already dying, the men attack it and find something inside, something rotten and dangerous and alive. It’s a thing that will bring about the destruction of the Nautilus, and bring doom to Grice and the crew. It appears that Grice is not the most formidable hunter these waters have ever seen – something else is out there, hunting whales, and it has been this way for centuries.......

When the Masters go out one day and never come back, old dogs Horace and Bilbo are left to fend for themselves. Locked in a kitchen with no food and a diminishing water supply, days go by until help finally comes. It’s too late for Bilbo. Horace recovers from his ordeal and is taken in by a new family, keen to introduce their young son Andy to the concept of looking after a pet. Andy is really excited at the thought of getting a dog, but his excitement turns to crushing disappointment when he sees how old it is. It’s not long before Andy begins to take his anger out on Horace. When his parents aren’t around, and he knows he won’t be caught, he makes Horace’s life a misery. Confused, unable to settle, Horace spends his nights dreaming of his loving, absent Masters and his days hiding in terror from the boy. But Horace will only be pushed so far….

The Farda
A lonely fat man discovers an unwanted visitor in his stack of bananas - a spider the size of a man's fist. Instead of killing it, or throwing it out, he takes pity on the beast and lets it stay for a while. It is the beginning of a magnificent friendship....

A hard working farmer is disturbed one night by the sound of a fox outside his bedroom window. Desperate for sleep, he hurls his best slippers at the beast, but it won't go away. Angry, he grabs his shotgun and shoots the fox dead. His wife watches on, knowing full well that her husband is a practical man with no room in his heart for sentiment. The next morning, the farmer grabs the dead fox and unceremoniously throws it into the woods. He spends another day grafting, trying to keep his business alive just that little bit longer. They both know that the day is coming when all of this will be gone, and they will be broke and homeless. Even a full sixteen hours of toil cannot stem the tide. The last thing he needs, for the second night in a row, is another fox howling outside his window...

The Beast
My parents are dead. I received a phone call informing me that they had been found on a Thai beach, drowned. I didn't know how to feel about that. We were never really close. My parents were bohemians - dandies - and the kindest possible way to describe my childhood is 'unfettered by parental guidance'. My childhood, apart from a period of about two years where I suffered horrendous nightmares involving the 'Beast', was actually pretty good. I was given more freedom than the other kids of my age group. I had the morbid task of emptying their house to prepare for the sale. All of their belongings, their personal treasures. My mother's half finished novels. My father's paintings. And, in the piles of artwork littering the attic, I found a picture that momentarily stilled my heart. It was a picture of the Beast, exactly as it used to appear at the end of my bed. How could my father have rendered it so accurately? Was the Beast more than just a figment of my imagination?

Also Includes:
People of the Sun

Fiction & Literature
April 20
Steve Roach
Draft2Digital, LLC

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