Podcasts about shudders

Having relocated their family to her husband's ancestral home, Laura becomes concerned by their daughter's increasingly naughty and wilful behaviour, and her husband's darkening mood, leading her to believe Lichen Hall is not all it seems.This original recording is an audio presentation by Jasper L'Estrange for EnCrypted Horror. “THE PLAYFELLOW” by Lady Cynthia Asquith (1929).About the story:"The Playfellow” by Lady Cynthia Asquith. First published in “Shudders” (1929, ed. Cynthia Asquith, pub. Hutchinson). Later collected in “This Mortal Coil” by Lady Cynthia Asquith (1947, pub. Arkham House).Music credits:Music used : "DEEP DARK” composed and produced by “Vivek AbhishekMusic link: https://youtu.be/FMHbF8TBfyU?si=8qeZpawq1L0niXyISUBSCRIBE us on YOUTUBE: https://bit.ly/3qumnPH Follow on Facebook : https://bit.ly/33RWRtP Follow on Instagram : https://bit.ly/2ImU2JVMusic used : TARTINI'S DREAM” composed and produced by Vivek AbhishekMusic link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKanA-7CliUSUBSCRIBE us on YOUTUBE: https://bit.ly/3qumnPH Follow on Facebook : https://bit.ly/33RWRtP Follow on Instagram : https://bit.ly/2ImU2JVMusic used :”CURSED” composed and produced by Vivek AbhishekMusic link: https://youtu.be/RywCuFpMo_Q?si=ZOqH3BzOzRFxTk3KSUBSCRIBE us on YOUTUBE: https://bit.ly/3qumnPH Follow on Facebook : https://bit.ly/33RWRtP Follow on Instagram : https://bit.ly/2ImU2JVMusic used :”DEAD EVIL RISES” composed and produced by Vivek AbhishekMusic link: https://youtu.be/xYluYDkr1io?si=1W9NOOKWtYhYbzjISUBSCRIBE us on YOUTUBE: https://bit.ly/3qumnPH Follow on Facebook : https://bit.ly/33RWRtP Follow on Instagram : https://bit.ly/2ImU2JVSound effects: All sound effects sourced at Freesound*.*Used with the following licence: https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/ The recording was created using Audacity and BandLab. Podcast hosted by Spotify.

Jeff and Christian welcome freelance reviewer Veerender Singh Jubbal to the show this week to discuss the announcements of Nintendo's latest Pokemom Day, Warner Bros shutting down historic developers, a delay for Fable, and more! The Playlist: Veerender:  Pokemon TCG Pocket, AFK Journey, Pokemon Sleep, Infinity Nikki, Monster Hunter Wilds, Marvel Rivals Christian: Grid Legends; more Avowed  Jeff: Steam Next Fest demos: Wheel World, Hyperslice, Haste: Broken Worlds, Drop Duchy, Deliver at all Costs, Wanderstop, Is This Seat Taken? Shape of Dreams Parting Gifts!

Jeff and Christian welcome Ian Higton from Eurogamer back to the show this week to discuss the Prince of Persia Lost Crown team being disbanded, Netflix closing its AAA studio, and hope for two big Ubisoft franchises. The Playlist: Ian: Shadows of Doubt, The Plucky Squire, Silent Hill 2 Christian: Call of Duty: Black Ops 6  Jeff: Call of Duty: Black Ops 6 VR Talk: Batman Arkham  Shadow, Tactical Assault VR Parting Gifts!

One night, in the desolate waiting room at Crewe, a stranded train passenger hears the strange story of how the former servant to a country vicar ended up sleeping rough at the station. This original recording is an audio presentation by Jasper L'Estrange for EnCrypted Horror. “Crewe” by Walter de la Mare (1929). You can hear me discuss this story by becoming a channel member and listening to a future episode of The EnCrypted Postmortem. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7JYpOrSDoCfvPbjBn6DZGIXDlK-eOzpR).

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Happy Mardi Gras, Creepsters! Barry, Phillip and Bob are enjoying the Carnival 2024 revelry. For your listening pleasure we are reposting the 2021 episode about H. H. Holmes. From 1891 to 1894, Dr. Henry Howard Holmes aka Herman Webster Mudgett went on a murderous rampage leaving a body count of approximately 200 victims.Follow us on X: @AShuddersFacebook: Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastFacebook Group: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastEmail us at: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The View From The Open Shudders,BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

It's Election Year *shudders* | The Humanist Report (1/2-1/5).m4a by Mike Figueredo

In this Classic Open Shudders episode from June 2021, we cover the case of evil serial killer Robert Ben Rhodes aka The Truck Stop Killer. This former trucker is believed to have murdered more than 20 people from 1975 to 1990.NOTE: We want to than everyone for their patience. We will have new content shortly. Life keeps getting in the way.Follow us on:Twitter: @AShuddersFacebook wew.facebook.com/openshuddersFacebook Group: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastEmail: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The View From The Open ShuddersBUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

A princess and her knight meet for a secret tryst.by Brie de Jour . Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Princess Jenevieve's heart was pounded loud in her ears as she made her way along the darkening path. The autumn trees surrounding her seemed to glitter in the last rays of the swiftly setting sun . But soon the woods parted and she found herself in the open expanse of the tournament field. The arena that had so recently been teeming with spectators, minstrels and jesters was now fortunately deserted. Still Jenevieve took care to keep to the shadows.Skirts in hand, she crept along the stands, dodging refuse the rabble had left behind after the day's entertainments. She glanced over at the nearby list where only a few hours ago armored knights had shown off their own particular brand of civilized bloodlust- charging their opponents head on, hooves pounding, lances raised, to the roar of cheering crowds. All was quiet now apart from the crisp rustling of banners billowing in the breeze.The sun had just slipped below the horizon as Jenevieve's ultimate destination came into view, illuminated by the light of a single lantern. She quickened her pace. The smell of hay, leather and other less savory accoutrement of horses hit her nose long before she ever reached the entrance to the stables. It may not have been the loveliest of odors but she liked it because it reminded her of him. The reason she had risked all to venture out into the perilous night.Peering into the dark interior she scanned the shadows, seeing only the skittering silhouette of horses. A full moon hung low in the sky and splinters of its silvery beams streamed through the rafters. She had just taken a few steps into the structure when two strong arms seized her from behind.Jenevieve thrashed about instinctively. The cry of sheer panic that erupted from her chest was muffled by the large hand suddenly clamped over her mouth. She had been discovered! Her mind tried to formulate a plausible excuse for a princess to be at the stables at such an hour, but fear fogged her brain.Then as abruptly as she had been apprehended her captor released her. She spun on shaky legs to see who had caught her. The large figure was mostly hidden by darkness but she could make out the glint of a metal chest plate. A knight. She craned her neck further, past the armor. The face was shadowed but for the eyes. The irises were a bright green that glowed from within like sunlight through stain glass. She knew those eyes anywhere.“Eldrick!” She exclaimed.He stepped out of the shadow. Although with his tall stature, chiseled good looks and noble baring, he might as well have stepped out of the pages of a story book. A closely-cropped beard accentuating the masculine angles of his face. His head was crowned with an unruly mass of nearly-black hair that made a woman ache to sink her fingers through it. His eyes were two verdant pools of desire in which an unsuspecting lady might easily drown.Sir Eldrick was handsome, gallant, brave, and just a bit cocksure. Qualities to endanger any woman's heart and Jenevieve's was no exception.For though she be a princess she was still a woman.Without further ado, she rushed into his arms. In a scene as old as creation, the lovers shared a passionate embrace under the moonlight. Then she abruptly slapped him in the face- a scene nearly as old.“You practically scared me to death.” She seethed.Eldrick's lips turned up in an easy smile that revealed a flash of dazzling, white teeth. “You needn't worry about Death with me around. If he came near you I'd cut him down with my sword.”“Are you ever serious?”“I'm quite serious about getting out of this heavy armor.”“I see you let your squire go early.” As Jenevieve spoke she set to work on the bindings of his chest plate, taking the opportunity to admire the finely decorated surface. In the center of the shining metal was a rearing white steed on a field of red. Eldrick's coat of arms and the reason for his nickname of the Rampant Stallion. (At least one of the reasons.)“Sam is a good lad but he cannot compete with your undressing skills.”“Well, they say practice makes perfect.” She winked.Finally, the last binding gave way. The heavy clatter of armor hitting the ground was followed by a low sigh of relief.Next, she raised on her tiptoes to slip the shimmering chainmail over Eldrick's lofty head. Thus divested, the lantern light revealed a well-proportioned torso barely concealed by a thin tunic. The evidence of a deep bruise peeked out of the neckline. She traced the mark on his shoulder with her finger, concern creasing her brow.He merely shrugged, “tis but a scratch.”It didn't look like a scratch, but the wound did nothing to diminish his masculine allure. His powerful presence seemed to fill the entire space and steal the breath from her lungs. Seeing him standing there, the warm light playing off the contours of his thickly muscled bronze flesh, she knew she never had a chance against all that raw male beauty.It had started out harmless enough when he first came to court the previous winter. Just a few furtive glances and a little innocent flirtation. But Eldrick was relentless in his campaign of love and soon his sweet words and tempting smile wore down her defenses. The warmth between them had grown gradually until there was no stopping the inferno that followed.“I thought you might want this back.” Eldrick's words jarred her out of her memories. As he spoke he reached beneath his tunic and handed her the ornately embroidered cloth. “It served me well today.”“Champion again.” She tucked the kerchief carefully into her flared sleeve.“Thanks to you.”“Still, you shouldn't have requested my favor at the tournament today.”“You are my princess.” He answered in a husky baritone.“But we must be careful not to attract undue attention in front of all those prying eyes. Choose another. After seeing you perched atop your pure white steed there is hardly a lady at court who would not happily fall at your feet to give you her favor.”“Fall at my feet, you say.” He ran a hand across his beard in contemplation. “Whose favor should I take then? Perhaps Lady Seraphina, she is rather angelic.”“And dull as a mud puddle.” Jenevieve replied, trying and failing to conceal the jealousy in her voice.“What of Lady Arabella. I've heard many a man admire her beauty.” He teased.“Though none have ever admired her wit.” She countered quickly.“But she makes up for her lack of wit with other fine qualities. Abundance of cleavage, for instance.” He parried, eyes alight with mischief.“Swine!” She growled, lashing out with fists raised.In one smooth move Eldrick blocked the hit and pinned her arms behind her back. He looked down on her, emerald eyes twinkling with triumph, while she tried to free herself from his grip.“You are the most beautiful woman in the kingdom and you well know it. You have blinded me to the charms of other women. For why would anyone bother to gaze at the stars with the glorious sun before them to dazzle their eyes?”Jenevieve stilled in his hold, her anger dissolving. ‘Twas difficult to stay mad at him while he poured sweet words into her ear. To say nothing of his fine eyes and seductive smile. How very disagreeable of him to be so agreeable to the senses.She no longer resisted when he pulled her against his chest in a forceful embrace. He was warm and she could feel that warmth seeping into her. ‘Twas pure alchemy when they touched, their two baser forms combining to create something infinitely more precious.With a sweep of his hand, he pulled the conical hat from her head so that the silky strands of golden curls cascaded down her back. Then he leaned closer, his lips nearly touching hers. She could practically feel the heat of victory still pumping through his veins. “You know I win for you.”“Poppycock.” She steeled her resolve and pulled herself from his arms. This time her let her. “You win for yourself. I would prefer if you lost more yet risked less. My heart leaps in fear every time I see you charging down that list.”“Not to worry. No knight I've er' met can unhorse me. Yet not all wounds are so tangible. My heart suffers as well.” He seized her hand to press it to the hard plain of his chest so she could make out the steady heartbeat thumping beneath her palm. “It feels as if it has been pierced by a leaded spear every time I see you with the prince.”“Please, let's not talk of my husband.”“His Highness is no more insufferable than the average royal accustomed to always getting his way. If only he spent as much time ruling as he did draining goblets and chasing skirts he would make for a decent prince.”“He has given me everything.” She offered, feeling the strange need to defend her derelict husband. Reginald may not be the best of husbands but if it hadn't been for him she would still be a lowly serf, serving ale in some dingy tavern.“Everything except for what you truly need. Love.” Eldrick insisted, his voice a low rumble that tingled her palm. She reluctantly pulled it away and took a step back. “Are you worried that we'll be discovered?”“He is not likely to notice.” She shrugged. Swaddled in ermine and arrogance, Prince Reginald was too busy feasting and philandering to notice much. “I am nothing but another symbol of status for him. No different than his fancy jewels or his royal hounds. He pays me no mind as long as I sit by his side, smiling sweetly and waving to the crowd.”“Then he is a bigger fool than I thought.” Eldrick said. “For you are far more precious than any crown jewel. I can scarcely keep my eyes off you. Your skin is like rose petals. Your eyes are blue and fathomless like the deepest river.”She raised one golden eyebrow. “Which am I, a rose or a river?”“You, my love, are a dragon. Full of fire and fearsome beauty to tempt knights to their doom.” He pronounced, his face a mixture of lust and amusement.“A dragon, am I? What a silver tongue you have.” She chuckled.“Was it not my tongue that won me fair lady.” He clasped her to him and ran that silvery appendage down the column of her neck, sending a fierce shudder down her spine.“So to speak,” she whispered. “And would you go to your doom for your dragon lady?”“Most happily.” He growled before closing the gap between them and forcefully claiming her mouth.He kissed her with such passion and urgency, as if he never wanted their lips to be parted again. It was a kiss of conquest but with an edge of sweetness. When she felt his tongue attempting entrance she parted her lips to allow him to explore her willing mouth.As he plundered her deeply, she felt her whole body grew hot and tingly. The intensity of his kiss made her head spin as though she had drunk too much wine. The power of the man intoxicated her. It overpowered her reason so that she was willing to hazard everything to feel his lips upon hers once more.She may be naught but a weak sinner but falling for Eldrick didn't feel weak. It didn't feel like sin or betrayal. It felt like paradise.He pressed her closer with an arm around her waist and her body melted into his like snow before a naked flame. Dizzy with longing, she clung to him to steady herself. Feeling the hard muscles of his biceps tense and roll beneath her fingers, she trembled at the thought of the strength that lie just beneath the skin.Relentlessly, his lips moved down her body, pressing them over whatever flesh he could find. His whisker-rough chin rasped along the soft flesh of her throat to her collarbone and beyond, leaving a tingling trail of fire in its wake. A firm tug released her left breast from the low-cut neckline of her tight bodice. With one hand still holding hers back, he dipped his head to worship the lush swell with his keen tongue, teasing the rosy tip until it raised to a hard peak.‘Twasn't long before his free hand joined in a two-pronged assault on her senses. Eldrick roved over her velvet encased curves, handling her with the unerring instincts of a seasoned warrior. Knowing just where to nibble and caress so that she was soon mewling and writhing under his sure touch.He sucked her nipple into his mouth, forcing a sharp inhale from her lips. Arching forward, she offered it up to him while riding the wide expanse of his thigh that she found pressed between her legs. A sharp throb of desire went through her as she rubbed up on the hard bulge of his cock, barely contained by the thin fabric of his hose.“This is madness.” She uttered as she continued to rock against him. “Reginald would have our heads if he knew.”“Completely mad,” he agreed between feathery kisses along her delicate jawline.“It's reckless and foolish.” She interjected, once she managed a full breath.“Utterly foolish.” Eldrick answered as his lips continued their journey down her neck.“Don't stop though.”“Never.”He claimed her mouth again. The kiss was slower this time, more lingering. In the past they rarely had time for lengthy preliminaries, instead having to take their forbidden pleasures in brief stolen moments. Not that Jenevieve really minded. She found the haste only amplified their violent desire, further stoking the white-hot flames of their passion.Yet on this night, with the wagging tongues of the court occupied with feasting and drinking, Eldrick seemed determined to take his time. To allow a slow burn to envelop them both. And Jenevieve was certainly feeling the heat. When their lips finally parted, she was reduced to nothing but a smoldering puddle of liquid desire.Lost in blind lust, she clutched at the rough fabric of Eldrick's tunic to support her unsteady legs while he slowly untied the fur-lined cape from around her neck. Once the tie had given way he pulled it from her slender shoulders. Cape in one hand and lantern in the other, he disappeared into the nearest empty stall.“What are you about?” She called after him, already missing his presence.“Making a bed fit for a princess.” He answered while fluttering the garment down over a pile of fresh hay.Bold green eyes, glinting with purpose and power, met hers. The look sucked the air from her lungs. Before she could recover her breath, he was upon her. A second later she felt herself being flung over his broad shoulder. After a few long strides he plopped her down on the makeshift mattress, giving rise to a peel of feminine laughter. The laughter turned to a breathy moan as his calloused hand worked its way up her leg.Teasingly slowly he pushed up her gown, the rich purple velvet sliding over her slim white thighs, past the fullness of her hips, to finally gather around her narrow waist. Nestled between her legs, he looked up at her with a sly smirk before latching his eyes on the exposed thatch of curls that lightly veiled her sex.Using gentle fingers, he spread the petals of her feminine flower, baring the slick seam to his hungry gaze. Ever so lightly, his finger brushed her mound, yet it sent a thunderbolt of electric pleasure through her whole being.His intent was clear. Though the extent of his arousal was extremely evident through his fitted hose, he seemed determined to put his own needs aside to attend to hers. And they say chivalry is dead she thought as he lowered his face towards the place between her legs. Then the thought was driven from her head as the wet heat of his mouth made contact with her cunny. As his tongue rasped across her seam she let out a sweet sigh of surrender and her limbs went limp with pleasure.He was gentle at first. Almost torturously so, touching her tenderly, reverently, as if she were a holy relic. His mouth paid careful devotion to every fold gradually until she was unconsciously arching to meet his caress in a silent plea for more. The plea did not go unanswered. By and by his ministrations intensified, his tongue a living flame that would consume her. Lips feasted, fingers probed. Jenevieve's hips gyrated in time with his searching tongue and pumping digits. She tossed her head from side to side, defenseless against the onslaught of pleasure.Craving more still, she wound her fingers into his dark hair to press him closer. Taking the hint, Eldrick's lips latched onto her clit. He lapped at the aching bud repeatedly until she was moaning and panting with rising tension. He held her teetering on the brink for some time. Then suddenly the tension broke and she was screaming out his name as she tumbled over the precipice of pleasure.The release was violent in its intensity and boundless in its scope. Shudders of ecstasy wracked her whole body and shattered her world. Still Eldrick did not cease his gentle lapping until the last quake of pleasure had passed and she slumped, gasping and boneless, onto the hay.“Mmm, ‘tis warm as honey and twice as sweet.” He hummed as he licked her juices from his lips.“Now I would taste you.” Jenevieve muttered once she had finally regained the power of speech. Swiftly she dropped to her knees before him and made quick work of the laces of his hose. His cock sprang up between them, hard, long and straight. A weapon well suited to the formidable knight who wielded it, and it was pointed straight at her. Yet she did not shrink from it as a lesser adversary surely would. She took it on without hesitation.She wrapped her fingers around the girthy base, her thumb barely meeting with her middle finger. It seemed to swell further as she glided her slick palm up his length and down again. A creamy drop of arousal gathered at the rounded tip. She licked it up and the salty tang that exploded on her tongue only made her mouth water further.As Jenevieve drew his cock into her mouth he threw his head back and muttered something halfway between a prayer and a curse. Emboldened by his response, she took him further into her eager mouth, clutching his muscular thighs as she strove to fit in as much of the sizable organ as she could. Her pains were rewarded by a low moan wrested from her opponent's lips.Desire, though so recently satisfied, was already beginning to reassert itself through an insistent throbbing between her legs. She felt the wet evidence of that desire overflowing her cunny and trickling down her thigh. It was always thus with her knight of hearts. He alone triggered an unslakable thirst inside her that only seemed to grow the deeper she drank.Eldrick's thirst seemed to be equally unquenchable. His muscles bunched and strained the limits of knightly endurance in an effort to hold back his pleasure. His jaw was clenched tightly, his brow furrowed. Soft pants turned to loud groans as Jenevieve's tongue slipped slowly over his salty length to circle the smooth head.“Enough!” He finally roared and pulled himself from her mouth.The next thing she knew, Jenevieve was being hauled up onto her feet and forced face first against the wall of the stable. She barely had time to catch her breath when she felt a rush of cool air on her thighs as Eldrick jerked up her gown. His booted foot nudged her legs wider, a firm hand on her spine tilting her forward so that her backside was hitched upward. Seconds later she was crying out as he plunged his powerful male organ into her to the hilt.There was no escape for her there. Pinned between the rough wooden wall and his unyielding body, she was completely at his mercy. Which was exactly where she wanted to be.Her fierce knight went at full-tilt and she welcomed the ferocity. Their combined need was too great for restraint or finesse. Setting a punishing rhythm, he surged into her with all his might. The slap of flesh against flesh echoed off the rafters, mixing with the neighing and whinnying of horses.“I've been dreaming of this all day.” Eldrick hissed between gritted teeth. “Tell me that you think of this as much as I do.”“I can think of nothing else.”“Tell me that you are just as completely and recklessly in love as I am.” He thrust with strokes so forceful that they nearly lifted her slippered feet off the ground.“My heart belongs only to you, my love.” Her voice tightened as she felt another climax looming into view.“Then run away with me.” Eldrick said in a dangerously serious tone.She whimpered in protest as his hips suddenly ceased their driving motion. With a flurry of silken hair and velvety skirts, he spun her around to face him. The look of utter longing and vulnerability on his face shook her to the core.A moment passed, then another, the appeal hanging heavy in the air between them. They both knew it was an impossible fantasy. As if somehow their love could defy duty and god and destiny to forge a new fate together. It was absurd. But in their stolen moments in one another's arms it almost seemed possible. Almost.Jenevieve looked up and their eyes met for one soul-shattering instant before she cast her gaze to the floor.“Be reasonable, my love.” At last she answered in a soft, hollow voice. “There is no place we can go that the prince won't find us. Besides, what ever would we do? Become simple farmers in a wattle and daub hut. I cannot ask you to trade in your sword and titles for a patch of dirt and a pitch fork.”“But I would most willingly. I need only you, Jenevieve. Titles, prestige, glory, they all became meaningless the moment I saw your face.” He held her fiercely. “Run away with me and our humble hovel will seem like a castle with you by my side.”“One day.” She replied, not knowing if her words were true but hoping against hope that they were.She felt his grip on her easing as if she was already slipping through his fingers. His voice dropped. “No one is promised anything but today.”“Then let us not waste it with talk of an uncertain future. Now is ours.”Jenevieve shoved him roughly so that he tumbled backwards onto the bed of straw. Before he could object she was straddling him and pressing her lips to his. He accepted her kiss, but his body remained stiff and restrained. He was determined to hold back, she saw it in the tightness of his jaw, felt in in the tautness of his muscles. Nevertheless, she was equally determined to conquer his resistance. She would not let thoughts of tomorrow ruin this glorious night.Gradually Eldrick returned her kiss, thrusting his tongue to duel with hers. Their mouths sparred. Their bodies battled. As the kiss deepened she felt his resistance waver. He softened, his rigid frame easing so that she could press her soft curve against him. Though one part of his body remained decidedly stiff. His erection bobbed up between them.Without breaking the kiss, she shifted her weight so that his hard shaft was prodding between the lips of her sex. She let the tip slip inside and they both groaned in unison. Slowly she slid down inch by inch, feeling her inner walls stretch to accommodate his thickness, until they were fully joined.She took control of their lovemaking and this time and he let her. He let her set the pace. Taking him deep inside, she rode faster and faster, allowing herself to be impaled on his lance over and over again.Never had she felt so powerful as she did in these moments with him. For her whole life men had sought to take power from her, to control her, to make her feel less than, but not Eldrick. He built her up, imbued her with strength and daring until she felt invincible.“What would you do for your princess?” She asked, digging her nails into his broad shoulders.“Anything,” Eldrick swore between gritted teeth. He reached up to fondle her breasts and she hissed out a sound of pleasure.“Would you betray your oaths for me?”“My devotion belongs only to you.”“Would you die for me?”“Aye, a thousand times.” He growled, his body tense like a rearing steed.She was clutching him fiercely, nails digging deeper until they left crimson trails in his bronze skin. As her legs wrapped around him ever tighter, she felt a surge of possessiveness. He was her knight. Hers to command. Hers to enjoy. And she would, by god, even if it cost her everything. Even if it cost her her life.Balancing on a sword's edge of pleasure she rode his pikestaff with increased speed. Her knight groaned low in his throat and muttered declarations of affection, but they were broken and unintelligible. In wordless response she arched her back, writhing madly on his cock. Her yellow hair spilled around them wildly as she bounced.“Upon my soul, I will love thee forever and always.” He panted out his devotion.“Yes, forever and always,” she repeated, sealing the vow with a deep kiss.In that moment they shared one breath, one heart, one soul. With only a single lantern and the bright fire of their passion to keep the darkness at bay, they sought salvation in one another's embrace. Their bodies were locked in a battle to stave off grim reality for a few more precious minutes. As if the sheer force of their love, only allowed to exist in moonlight and shadow, could banish the dawn so that they may never be parted again.Alas, they could not hold back their pleasure forever, any more than they could hold back the rising sun.The slow torment of lust built little by little until it became an unstoppable force. Finally, the heavenly sensation overtook them. They reached their peak together. Beneath her, Eldrick was bucking and spilling inside her, flooding her pulsing channel with warmth.Jenevieve heard her own keening cries but they sounded far away. She had abandoning her earthly body to travel to the very heights of paradise above. Flickers of gratification pulsed through her and brilliant white stars burst behind her shuttered eyelids.Eventually the divine sensation ebbed and Jenevieve was reluctantly called back to her mortal form. When next she opened her eyes, she was wrapped firmly in her lover's strong arms.The stables fell silent then, apart from the sound of their unified breathes.“My princess,” he breathed into the curve of her neck. * * * “You can cut that out now Rick.” Jenny let her Yankee accent return in all its gaudy glory. “I can't freakin' breath in this damn corset.”As if on cue, her cell phone chose that moment to ring. The electropop beat of Taylor Swift's “Look What You Made Me Do” cut through the stillness of the night, effectively jarring the pair back into the modern world. Quickly, Jenny scrambled off Rick's lap and reached for the phone stowed away in a nearby rafter.“Oh shit, it's Reggie.” She pressed the phone to her ear. “Hey babe.”“You're late.” He announced in a smug and slightly slurred tone. Reggie never knew when to drop the princely performance. He carried the character of Prince Reginald over into their real lives so regularly that Jenny began to wonder if the pompous prince act was really an act at all.As the only son of the owner of King Edward's Faire it was no wonder he turned out to be a total bougie brat. When Jenny had first gotten a position at the faire as a lowly, serving wench, straight from the trailer park, she had been too flattered by Reggie's attentions to notice his utter lack of character.By the time she figured it out it was too late. She was in too deep- forced to play the part of dutiful trophy wife in and out of work. Then Rick came along. As head stunt rider at the faire he was valiant and caring and just what she needed. (Not to mention sexy AF.) She had fallen for him, hard and fast.Ironically, it was only in their role-play games that she could truly be herself. Even if it did complicate the situation further.“Sorry, I'm just closing up. Be there soon.” She heard Reggie's grunting response and then he was gone.“I have to go.” Jenny blurted out to Rick who sat casually regarding her from his nest in the hay.Reggie was waiting for her at the King's Head Pub, the typical afterhours spot for the cast and crew. He was there most nights after closing time, hanging with his sycophantic squad and his band of basic wenches.“We mustn't keep the prince waiting.” Rick shot her a cheeky look.“Cut it out, okay.” She tossed his duffle bag at his head before retrieving her own bag from the loft.They dressed quickly, exchanging medieval garb for jeans and t-shirts. Jenny slipped on her sneakers and hurried to tie her hair into a high pony tail, trying not to be distracted by the scintillating sight of Rick sliding into his jeans. She hadn't thought it possible, but his ass actually looked as good in a pair of tight Levi's as it did in his hose.In fact, the sight was so distracting that Jenny did not notice the bale of hay at her feet. It pitched her forward and she would have quickly met with the ground had Rick not caught her in mid-fall. Without warning, she found herself staring up at his dangerously alluring green eyes.“I meant what I said, you know.” He brought his hand up to stroke her face. “Let's run away, start over somewhere far away.”Tenderly, he plucked a stray piece of straw from behind her ear. His firm hand then wound behind her head to guide her lips to his. He delved into her mouth with the most sensual rhythm, at once soft and strong. The kiss unfurled between them, full of love and longing with just a twinge of regret.Once their lips parted she sighed softly. “One day.”A flicker of sadness crossed his handsome face. For a moment, the habitual smile faded from his lips, the armor slipping slightly. And then, just like that, it was back in place. Undaunted, he flashed that dazzling grin in her direction. One that promised patience and understanding and hinted at many more trysts to come.Rick popped a baseball cap on his dark head and pressed a gentle kiss on her hand before heading towards the door.“So, meet you here same time tomorrow?” She called after him.“I wouldn't miss it for the world, milady.” Rick turned and doffed his baseball cap in a courtly gesture. Jenny rolled her eyes as he strode away.“That's Your Highness to you.”by Brie_de_Jour for Literotica

A princess and her knight meet for a secret tryst.by Brie de Jour . Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Princess Jenevieve's heart was pounded loud in her ears as she made her way along the darkening path. The autumn trees surrounding her seemed to glitter in the last rays of the swiftly setting sun . But soon the woods parted and she found herself in the open expanse of the tournament field. The arena that had so recently been teeming with spectators, minstrels and jesters was now fortunately deserted. Still Jenevieve took care to keep to the shadows.Skirts in hand, she crept along the stands, dodging refuse the rabble had left behind after the day's entertainments. She glanced over at the nearby list where only a few hours ago armored knights had shown off their own particular brand of civilized bloodlust- charging their opponents head on, hooves pounding, lances raised, to the roar of cheering crowds. All was quiet now apart from the crisp rustling of banners billowing in the breeze.The sun had just slipped below the horizon as Jenevieve's ultimate destination came into view, illuminated by the light of a single lantern. She quickened her pace. The smell of hay, leather and other less savory accoutrement of horses hit her nose long before she ever reached the entrance to the stables. It may not have been the loveliest of odors but she liked it because it reminded her of him. The reason she had risked all to venture out into the perilous night.Peering into the dark interior she scanned the shadows, seeing only the skittering silhouette of horses. A full moon hung low in the sky and splinters of its silvery beams streamed through the rafters. She had just taken a few steps into the structure when two strong arms seized her from behind.Jenevieve thrashed about instinctively. The cry of sheer panic that erupted from her chest was muffled by the large hand suddenly clamped over her mouth. She had been discovered! Her mind tried to formulate a plausible excuse for a princess to be at the stables at such an hour, but fear fogged her brain.Then as abruptly as she had been apprehended her captor released her. She spun on shaky legs to see who had caught her. The large figure was mostly hidden by darkness but she could make out the glint of a metal chest plate. A knight. She craned her neck further, past the armor. The face was shadowed but for the eyes. The irises were a bright green that glowed from within like sunlight through stain glass. She knew those eyes anywhere.“Eldrick!” She exclaimed.He stepped out of the shadow. Although with his tall stature, chiseled good looks and noble baring, he might as well have stepped out of the pages of a story book. A closely-cropped beard accentuating the masculine angles of his face. His head was crowned with an unruly mass of nearly-black hair that made a woman ache to sink her fingers through it. His eyes were two verdant pools of desire in which an unsuspecting lady might easily drown.Sir Eldrick was handsome, gallant, brave, and just a bit cocksure. Qualities to endanger any woman's heart and Jenevieve's was no exception.For though she be a princess she was still a woman.Without further ado, she rushed into his arms. In a scene as old as creation, the lovers shared a passionate embrace under the moonlight. Then she abruptly slapped him in the face- a scene nearly as old.“You practically scared me to death.” She seethed.Eldrick's lips turned up in an easy smile that revealed a flash of dazzling, white teeth. “You needn't worry about Death with me around. If he came near you I'd cut him down with my sword.”“Are you ever serious?”“I'm quite serious about getting out of this heavy armor.”“I see you let your squire go early.” As Jenevieve spoke she set to work on the bindings of his chest plate, taking the opportunity to admire the finely decorated surface. In the center of the shining metal was a rearing white steed on a field of red. Eldrick's coat of arms and the reason for his nickname of the Rampant Stallion. (At least one of the reasons.)“Sam is a good lad but he cannot compete with your undressing skills.”“Well, they say practice makes perfect.” She winked.Finally, the last binding gave way. The heavy clatter of armor hitting the ground was followed by a low sigh of relief.Next, she raised on her tiptoes to slip the shimmering chainmail over Eldrick's lofty head. Thus divested, the lantern light revealed a well-proportioned torso barely concealed by a thin tunic. The evidence of a deep bruise peeked out of the neckline. She traced the mark on his shoulder with her finger, concern creasing her brow.He merely shrugged, “tis but a scratch.”It didn't look like a scratch, but the wound did nothing to diminish his masculine allure. His powerful presence seemed to fill the entire space and steal the breath from her lungs. Seeing him standing there, the warm light playing off the contours of his thickly muscled bronze flesh, she knew she never had a chance against all that raw male beauty.It had started out harmless enough when he first came to court the previous winter. Just a few furtive glances and a little innocent flirtation. But Eldrick was relentless in his campaign of love and soon his sweet words and tempting smile wore down her defenses. The warmth between them had grown gradually until there was no stopping the inferno that followed.“I thought you might want this back.” Eldrick's words jarred her out of her memories. As he spoke he reached beneath his tunic and handed her the ornately embroidered cloth. “It served me well today.”“Champion again.” She tucked the kerchief carefully into her flared sleeve.“Thanks to you.”“Still, you shouldn't have requested my favor at the tournament today.”“You are my princess.” He answered in a husky baritone.“But we must be careful not to attract undue attention in front of all those prying eyes. Choose another. After seeing you perched atop your pure white steed there is hardly a lady at court who would not happily fall at your feet to give you her favor.”“Fall at my feet, you say.” He ran a hand across his beard in contemplation. “Whose favor should I take then? Perhaps Lady Seraphina, she is rather angelic.”“And dull as a mud puddle.” Jenevieve replied, trying and failing to conceal the jealousy in her voice.“What of Lady Arabella. I've heard many a man admire her beauty.” He teased.“Though none have ever admired her wit.” She countered quickly.“But she makes up for her lack of wit with other fine qualities. Abundance of cleavage, for instance.” He parried, eyes alight with mischief.“Swine!” She growled, lashing out with fists raised.In one smooth move Eldrick blocked the hit and pinned her arms behind her back. He looked down on her, emerald eyes twinkling with triumph, while she tried to free herself from his grip.“You are the most beautiful woman in the kingdom and you well know it. You have blinded me to the charms of other women. For why would anyone bother to gaze at the stars with the glorious sun before them to dazzle their eyes?”Jenevieve stilled in his hold, her anger dissolving. ‘Twas difficult to stay mad at him while he poured sweet words into her ear. To say nothing of his fine eyes and seductive smile. How very disagreeable of him to be so agreeable to the senses.She no longer resisted when he pulled her against his chest in a forceful embrace. He was warm and she could feel that warmth seeping into her. ‘Twas pure alchemy when they touched, their two baser forms combining to create something infinitely more precious.With a sweep of his hand, he pulled the conical hat from her head so that the silky strands of golden curls cascaded down her back. Then he leaned closer, his lips nearly touching hers. She could practically feel the heat of victory still pumping through his veins. “You know I win for you.”“Poppycock.” She steeled her resolve and pulled herself from his arms. This time her let her. “You win for yourself. I would prefer if you lost more yet risked less. My heart leaps in fear every time I see you charging down that list.”“Not to worry. No knight I've er' met can unhorse me. Yet not all wounds are so tangible. My heart suffers as well.” He seized her hand to press it to the hard plain of his chest so she could make out the steady heartbeat thumping beneath her palm. “It feels as if it has been pierced by a leaded spear every time I see you with the prince.”“Please, let's not talk of my husband.”“His Highness is no more insufferable than the average royal accustomed to always getting his way. If only he spent as much time ruling as he did draining goblets and chasing skirts he would make for a decent prince.”“He has given me everything.” She offered, feeling the strange need to defend her derelict husband. Reginald may not be the best of husbands but if it hadn't been for him she would still be a lowly serf, serving ale in some dingy tavern.“Everything except for what you truly need. Love.” Eldrick insisted, his voice a low rumble that tingled her palm. She reluctantly pulled it away and took a step back. “Are you worried that we'll be discovered?”“He is not likely to notice.” She shrugged. Swaddled in ermine and arrogance, Prince Reginald was too busy feasting and philandering to notice much. “I am nothing but another symbol of status for him. No different than his fancy jewels or his royal hounds. He pays me no mind as long as I sit by his side, smiling sweetly and waving to the crowd.”“Then he is a bigger fool than I thought.” Eldrick said. “For you are far more precious than any crown jewel. I can scarcely keep my eyes off you. Your skin is like rose petals. Your eyes are blue and fathomless like the deepest river.”She raised one golden eyebrow. “Which am I, a rose or a river?”“You, my love, are a dragon. Full of fire and fearsome beauty to tempt knights to their doom.” He pronounced, his face a mixture of lust and amusement.“A dragon, am I? What a silver tongue you have.” She chuckled.“Was it not my tongue that won me fair lady.” He clasped her to him and ran that silvery appendage down the column of her neck, sending a fierce shudder down her spine.“So to speak,” she whispered. “And would you go to your doom for your dragon lady?”“Most happily.” He growled before closing the gap between them and forcefully claiming her mouth.He kissed her with such passion and urgency, as if he never wanted their lips to be parted again. It was a kiss of conquest but with an edge of sweetness. When she felt his tongue attempting entrance she parted her lips to allow him to explore her willing mouth.As he plundered her deeply, she felt her whole body grew hot and tingly. The intensity of his kiss made her head spin as though she had drunk too much wine. The power of the man intoxicated her. It overpowered her reason so that she was willing to hazard everything to feel his lips upon hers once more.She may be naught but a weak sinner but falling for Eldrick didn't feel weak. It didn't feel like sin or betrayal. It felt like paradise.He pressed her closer with an arm around her waist and her body melted into his like snow before a naked flame. Dizzy with longing, she clung to him to steady herself. Feeling the hard muscles of his biceps tense and roll beneath her fingers, she trembled at the thought of the strength that lie just beneath the skin.Relentlessly, his lips moved down her body, pressing them over whatever flesh he could find. His whisker-rough chin rasped along the soft flesh of her throat to her collarbone and beyond, leaving a tingling trail of fire in its wake. A firm tug released her left breast from the low-cut neckline of her tight bodice. With one hand still holding hers back, he dipped his head to worship the lush swell with his keen tongue, teasing the rosy tip until it raised to a hard peak.‘Twasn't long before his free hand joined in a two-pronged assault on her senses. Eldrick roved over her velvet encased curves, handling her with the unerring instincts of a seasoned warrior. Knowing just where to nibble and caress so that she was soon mewling and writhing under his sure touch.He sucked her nipple into his mouth, forcing a sharp inhale from her lips. Arching forward, she offered it up to him while riding the wide expanse of his thigh that she found pressed between her legs. A sharp throb of desire went through her as she rubbed up on the hard bulge of his cock, barely contained by the thin fabric of his hose.“This is madness.” She uttered as she continued to rock against him. “Reginald would have our heads if he knew.”“Completely mad,” he agreed between feathery kisses along her delicate jawline.“It's reckless and foolish.” She interjected, once she managed a full breath.“Utterly foolish.” Eldrick answered as his lips continued their journey down her neck.“Don't stop though.”“Never.”He claimed her mouth again. The kiss was slower this time, more lingering. In the past they rarely had time for lengthy preliminaries, instead having to take their forbidden pleasures in brief stolen moments. Not that Jenevieve really minded. She found the haste only amplified their violent desire, further stoking the white-hot flames of their passion.Yet on this night, with the wagging tongues of the court occupied with feasting and drinking, Eldrick seemed determined to take his time. To allow a slow burn to envelop them both. And Jenevieve was certainly feeling the heat. When their lips finally parted, she was reduced to nothing but a smoldering puddle of liquid desire.Lost in blind lust, she clutched at the rough fabric of Eldrick's tunic to support her unsteady legs while he slowly untied the fur-lined cape from around her neck. Once the tie had given way he pulled it from her slender shoulders. Cape in one hand and lantern in the other, he disappeared into the nearest empty stall.“What are you about?” She called after him, already missing his presence.“Making a bed fit for a princess.” He answered while fluttering the garment down over a pile of fresh hay.Bold green eyes, glinting with purpose and power, met hers. The look sucked the air from her lungs. Before she could recover her breath, he was upon her. A second later she felt herself being flung over his broad shoulder. After a few long strides he plopped her down on the makeshift mattress, giving rise to a peel of feminine laughter. The laughter turned to a breathy moan as his calloused hand worked its way up her leg.Teasingly slowly he pushed up her gown, the rich purple velvet sliding over her slim white thighs, past the fullness of her hips, to finally gather around her narrow waist. Nestled between her legs, he looked up at her with a sly smirk before latching his eyes on the exposed thatch of curls that lightly veiled her sex.Using gentle fingers, he spread the petals of her feminine flower, baring the slick seam to his hungry gaze. Ever so lightly, his finger brushed her mound, yet it sent a thunderbolt of electric pleasure through her whole being.His intent was clear. Though the extent of his arousal was extremely evident through his fitted hose, he seemed determined to put his own needs aside to attend to hers. And they say chivalry is dead she thought as he lowered his face towards the place between her legs. Then the thought was driven from her head as the wet heat of his mouth made contact with her cunny. As his tongue rasped across her seam she let out a sweet sigh of surrender and her limbs went limp with pleasure.He was gentle at first. Almost torturously so, touching her tenderly, reverently, as if she were a holy relic. His mouth paid careful devotion to every fold gradually until she was unconsciously arching to meet his caress in a silent plea for more. The plea did not go unanswered. By and by his ministrations intensified, his tongue a living flame that would consume her. Lips feasted, fingers probed. Jenevieve's hips gyrated in time with his searching tongue and pumping digits. She tossed her head from side to side, defenseless against the onslaught of pleasure.Craving more still, she wound her fingers into his dark hair to press him closer. Taking the hint, Eldrick's lips latched onto her clit. He lapped at the aching bud repeatedly until she was moaning and panting with rising tension. He held her teetering on the brink for some time. Then suddenly the tension broke and she was screaming out his name as she tumbled over the precipice of pleasure.The release was violent in its intensity and boundless in its scope. Shudders of ecstasy wracked her whole body and shattered her world. Still Eldrick did not cease his gentle lapping until the last quake of pleasure had passed and she slumped, gasping and boneless, onto the hay.“Mmm, ‘tis warm as honey and twice as sweet.” He hummed as he licked her juices from his lips.“Now I would taste you.” Jenevieve muttered once she had finally regained the power of speech. Swiftly she dropped to her knees before him and made quick work of the laces of his hose. His cock sprang up between them, hard, long and straight. A weapon well suited to the formidable knight who wielded it, and it was pointed straight at her. Yet she did not shrink from it as a lesser adversary surely would. She took it on without hesitation.She wrapped her fingers around the girthy base, her thumb barely meeting with her middle finger. It seemed to swell further as she glided her slick palm up his length and down again. A creamy drop of arousal gathered at the rounded tip. She licked it up and the salty tang that exploded on her tongue only made her mouth water further.As Jenevieve drew his cock into her mouth he threw his head back and muttered something halfway between a prayer and a curse. Emboldened by his response, she took him further into her eager mouth, clutching his muscular thighs as she strove to fit in as much of the sizable organ as she could. Her pains were rewarded by a low moan wrested from her opponent's lips.Desire, though so recently satisfied, was already beginning to reassert itself through an insistent throbbing between her legs. She felt the wet evidence of that desire overflowing her cunny and trickling down her thigh. It was always thus with her knight of hearts. He alone triggered an unslakable thirst inside her that only seemed to grow the deeper she drank.Eldrick's thirst seemed to be equally unquenchable. His muscles bunched and strained the limits of knightly endurance in an effort to hold back his pleasure. His jaw was clenched tightly, his brow furrowed. Soft pants turned to loud groans as Jenevieve's tongue slipped slowly over his salty length to circle the smooth head.“Enough!” He finally roared and pulled himself from her mouth.The next thing she knew, Jenevieve was being hauled up onto her feet and forced face first against the wall of the stable. She barely had time to catch her breath when she felt a rush of cool air on her thighs as Eldrick jerked up her gown. His booted foot nudged her legs wider, a firm hand on her spine tilting her forward so that her backside was hitched upward. Seconds later she was crying out as he plunged his powerful male organ into her to the hilt.There was no escape for her there. Pinned between the rough wooden wall and his unyielding body, she was completely at his mercy. Which was exactly where she wanted to be.Her fierce knight went at full-tilt and she welcomed the ferocity. Their combined need was too great for restraint or finesse. Setting a punishing rhythm, he surged into her with all his might. The slap of flesh against flesh echoed off the rafters, mixing with the neighing and whinnying of horses.“I've been dreaming of this all day.” Eldrick hissed between gritted teeth. “Tell me that you think of this as much as I do.”“I can think of nothing else.”“Tell me that you are just as completely and recklessly in love as I am.” He thrust with strokes so forceful that they nearly lifted her slippered feet off the ground.“My heart belongs only to you, my love.” Her voice tightened as she felt another climax looming into view.“Then run away with me.” Eldrick said in a dangerously serious tone.She whimpered in protest as his hips suddenly ceased their driving motion. With a flurry of silken hair and velvety skirts, he spun her around to face him. The look of utter longing and vulnerability on his face shook her to the core.A moment passed, then another, the appeal hanging heavy in the air between them. They both knew it was an impossible fantasy. As if somehow their love could defy duty and god and destiny to forge a new fate together. It was absurd. But in their stolen moments in one another's arms it almost seemed possible. Almost.Jenevieve looked up and their eyes met for one soul-shattering instant before she cast her gaze to the floor.“Be reasonable, my love.” At last she answered in a soft, hollow voice. “There is no place we can go that the prince won't find us. Besides, what ever would we do? Become simple farmers in a wattle and daub hut. I cannot ask you to trade in your sword and titles for a patch of dirt and a pitch fork.”“But I would most willingly. I need only you, Jenevieve. Titles, prestige, glory, they all became meaningless the moment I saw your face.” He held her fiercely. “Run away with me and our humble hovel will seem like a castle with you by my side.”“One day.” She replied, not knowing if her words were true but hoping against hope that they were.She felt his grip on her easing as if she was already slipping through his fingers. His voice dropped. “No one is promised anything but today.”“Then let us not waste it with talk of an uncertain future. Now is ours.”Jenevieve shoved him roughly so that he tumbled backwards onto the bed of straw. Before he could object she was straddling him and pressing her lips to his. He accepted her kiss, but his body remained stiff and restrained. He was determined to hold back, she saw it in the tightness of his jaw, felt in in the tautness of his muscles. Nevertheless, she was equally determined to conquer his resistance. She would not let thoughts of tomorrow ruin this glorious night.Gradually Eldrick returned her kiss, thrusting his tongue to duel with hers. Their mouths sparred. Their bodies battled. As the kiss deepened she felt his resistance waver. He softened, his rigid frame easing so that she could press her soft curve against him. Though one part of his body remained decidedly stiff. His erection bobbed up between them.Without breaking the kiss, she shifted her weight so that his hard shaft was prodding between the lips of her sex. She let the tip slip inside and they both groaned in unison. Slowly she slid down inch by inch, feeling her inner walls stretch to accommodate his thickness, until they were fully joined.She took control of their lovemaking and this time and he let her. He let her set the pace. Taking him deep inside, she rode faster and faster, allowing herself to be impaled on his lance over and over again.Never had she felt so powerful as she did in these moments with him. For her whole life men had sought to take power from her, to control her, to make her feel less than, but not Eldrick. He built her up, imbued her with strength and daring until she felt invincible.“What would you do for your princess?” She asked, digging her nails into his broad shoulders.“Anything,” Eldrick swore between gritted teeth. He reached up to fondle her breasts and she hissed out a sound of pleasure.“Would you betray your oaths for me?”“My devotion belongs only to you.”“Would you die for me?”“Aye, a thousand times.” He growled, his body tense like a rearing steed.She was clutching him fiercely, nails digging deeper until they left crimson trails in his bronze skin. As her legs wrapped around him ever tighter, she felt a surge of possessiveness. He was her knight. Hers to command. Hers to enjoy. And she would, by god, even if it cost her everything. Even if it cost her her life.Balancing on a sword's edge of pleasure she rode his pikestaff with increased speed. Her knight groaned low in his throat and muttered declarations of affection, but they were broken and unintelligible. In wordless response she arched her back, writhing madly on his cock. Her yellow hair spilled around them wildly as she bounced.“Upon my soul, I will love thee forever and always.” He panted out his devotion.“Yes, forever and always,” she repeated, sealing the vow with a deep kiss.In that moment they shared one breath, one heart, one soul. With only a single lantern and the bright fire of their passion to keep the darkness at bay, they sought salvation in one another's embrace. Their bodies were locked in a battle to stave off grim reality for a few more precious minutes. As if the sheer force of their love, only allowed to exist in moonlight and shadow, could banish the dawn so that they may never be parted again.Alas, they could not hold back their pleasure forever, any more than they could hold back the rising sun.The slow torment of lust built little by little until it became an unstoppable force. Finally, the heavenly sensation overtook them. They reached their peak together. Beneath her, Eldrick was bucking and spilling inside her, flooding her pulsing channel with warmth.Jenevieve heard her own keening cries but they sounded far away. She had abandoning her earthly body to travel to the very heights of paradise above. Flickers of gratification pulsed through her and brilliant white stars burst behind her shuttered eyelids.Eventually the divine sensation ebbed and Jenevieve was reluctantly called back to her mortal form. When next she opened her eyes, she was wrapped firmly in her lover's strong arms.The stables fell silent then, apart from the sound of their unified breathes.“My princess,” he breathed into the curve of her neck. * * * “You can cut that out now Rick.” Jenny let her Yankee accent return in all its gaudy glory. “I can't freakin' breath in this damn corset.”As if on cue, her cell phone chose that moment to ring. The electropop beat of Taylor Swift's “Look What You Made Me Do” cut through the stillness of the night, effectively jarring the pair back into the modern world. Quickly, Jenny scrambled off Rick's lap and reached for the phone stowed away in a nearby rafter.“Oh shit, it's Reggie.” She pressed the phone to her ear. “Hey babe.”“You're late.” He announced in a smug and slightly slurred tone. Reggie never knew when to drop the princely performance. He carried the character of Prince Reginald over into their real lives so regularly that Jenny began to wonder if the pompous prince act was really an act at all.As the only son of the owner of King Edward's Faire it was no wonder he turned out to be a total bougie brat. When Jenny had first gotten a position at the faire as a lowly, serving wench, straight from the trailer park, she had been too flattered by Reggie's attentions to notice his utter lack of character.By the time she figured it out it was too late. She was in too deep- forced to play the part of dutiful trophy wife in and out of work. Then Rick came along. As head stunt rider at the faire he was valiant and caring and just what she needed. (Not to mention sexy AF.) She had fallen for him, hard and fast.Ironically, it was only in their role-play games that she could truly be herself. Even if it did complicate the situation further.“Sorry, I'm just closing up. Be there soon.” She heard Reggie's grunting response and then he was gone.“I have to go.” Jenny blurted out to Rick who sat casually regarding her from his nest in the hay.Reggie was waiting for her at the King's Head Pub, the typical afterhours spot for the cast and crew. He was there most nights after closing time, hanging with his sycophantic squad and his band of basic wenches.“We mustn't keep the prince waiting.” Rick shot her a cheeky look.“Cut it out, okay.” She tossed his duffle bag at his head before retrieving her own bag from the loft.They dressed quickly, exchanging medieval garb for jeans and t-shirts. Jenny slipped on her sneakers and hurried to tie her hair into a high pony tail, trying not to be distracted by the scintillating sight of Rick sliding into his jeans. She hadn't thought it possible, but his ass actually looked as good in a pair of tight Levi's as it did in his hose.In fact, the sight was so distracting that Jenny did not notice the bale of hay at her feet. It pitched her forward and she would have quickly met with the ground had Rick not caught her in mid-fall. Without warning, she found herself staring up at his dangerously alluring green eyes.“I meant what I said, you know.” He brought his hand up to stroke her face. “Let's run away, start over somewhere far away.”Tenderly, he plucked a stray piece of straw from behind her ear. His firm hand then wound behind her head to guide her lips to his. He delved into her mouth with the most sensual rhythm, at once soft and strong. The kiss unfurled between them, full of love and longing with just a twinge of regret.Once their lips parted she sighed softly. “One day.”A flicker of sadness crossed his handsome face. For a moment, the habitual smile faded from his lips, the armor slipping slightly. And then, just like that, it was back in place. Undaunted, he flashed that dazzling grin in her direction. One that promised patience and understanding and hinted at many more trysts to come.Rick popped a baseball cap on his dark head and pressed a gentle kiss on her hand before heading towards the door.“So, meet you here same time tomorrow?” She called after him.“I wouldn't miss it for the world, milady.” Rick turned and doffed his baseball cap in a courtly gesture. Jenny rolled her eyes as he strode away.“That's Your Highness to you.”by Brie_de_Jour for Literotica

Even though Pride Month is over, we're reposting our June 17, 2021 episode covering the brutal shootings at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, Florida on June 12, 2016. Fifty people were killed and an additional fifty-eight were injured.Follow us on:Twitter: @AShuddersFacebook: facebook.com/openshuddersFacebook Group: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastEmail: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The View From The Open Shudders,BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

To kick off 2023 Pride Month, we revisit our classic episode from June 9, 2021 Matthew Shepard: Bashed to Death. We cover the heinously hideous torture and murder of 21 year old gay man Matthew Shepard on October 6, 1998. On another sad note, this episode is co-hosted by Jennifer Lynn, who died six months after the taping of a pulmonary embolism. R. I. P. Matthew. R. I. P. Jennifer.Follow us onTwitter: @AShuddersInstagram: @openshudderspodcastFacebook: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastEmail: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The View From The Open ShuddersBUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

Hi, Creepsters! Sorry about the long wait, but we're back. We're starting out Adult Entertainment Crimes series with a Classic Open Shudders episode from April 2022, The Slaying of the King Cobra.We enter the dark side of the gay pornography industry as we cover the murder of Cobra Video producer Bryan Kocis by rival porn producers Joe Kerekes and Harlow Caudra over model Brent Corrigan aka Sean Lockhart. Follow us on Twitter: @AShuddersFacebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastInstagram: @openshudderspodcastEmail: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The View From The Open Shudders,BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

Midlife is the Cat's Meow is out in the world! In bad news, TB has a nasty cold and is exhausted and scattered. In writing news, TB & Miranda have started their next cowrite, a contemporary romance. In award news, Take Two, is a Goldies finalist. While managing her cold, TB also had to wrangle her taxes. After a successful presale, Hotshot is now available on Amazon. Hooray! Clare has been researching for London 9 by doing interviews. Most writers will be horrified by this. Talking to people in real life. Shudders. Clare spoke on two panels at the London Book Fair. She's a big deal! They crash on to the topic: fresh starts. They both just published a book and are starting a new chapter. Add on to that, it's also springtime in the northern hemisphere. It's like fate played a hand coming up with today's episode. Have a listen and get inspired for your own fresh start. Do you like fresh starts? Head over to lesbianswhowrite.com and leave a comment on the episode. Happy listening! Clare and TB Links: Midlife is the Cat's Meow: https://mybook.to/MidlifeCatsMeowIHSAd1 Take Two: https://mybook.to/TakeTwoMacLeod Hotshot: https://mybook.to/HotShotLydon

Whiskeys: Redwood Empire Lost Monarch Whiskey • Remus Repeal Reserve Series VI Bourbon • Smoke Wagon Malted Rye • Old Line American Single Malt Madness: Anders and Hologram Gabe are back for the finals! • MGP is the only mega-distillery left in the tournament • Why doesn't the giant state of California have more whiskey? • Anders has broken so many ties • Apparently “gas station tres leches” is a tasting note now • What if Italy were run by elves? • Ed's a cheap bitch and Scott's had way too much to drink • The Bryan Cranston tangent is better than you think it is • #deepsweetness • The most delicious Final Pour ever! NEAT Glass Sponsor: Use whiskeytan to get 10% off at https://theneatglass.com Music Credits: Fight Back and Retribution courtesy of Neffex | Link: https://www.youtube.com/user/neffexmusic • On a Mission courtesy of Choc Mic McNeil | Link: https://soundcloud.com/chocmic/on-a-mission-the-soular-system

In this Special Encore Episode from May 2021, we cover the case of Diane Downs, a young mother who shot her three children, killing one.Follow us on Twitter : @AShuddersInstagram: @openshudderspodcastFacebook: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastYouTube Channel: https://youtube.com/@openshuddersacreepypodcastEnjoy The Veiw From The Open Shudders,BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW I

To commemorate the forty fifth anniversary of Christina Crawford's scathing book , Mommie Dearest, we're reposting our Mother's Day 2021 episode. I'm this episode, Barry and Phillip discuss the Uber Hollywood Diva movie stars Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. We'll be discussing their feud with each other and the feuds each lady had with their own daughters. Both daughters wrote scathing biographies of their mothers.Follow us on Twitter: @ShuddersInstagram: @openshudderspodcastFacebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastEmail: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The Veiw From The Open Shudders,BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

For our last drop of 2022, we're reposting the first episode of 2022. The first part in addition to Phillip's Horror Scopes, there are eight obits, including America's Grandmother Betty White. In the second part, we cover the case of Luka Rocco Magnata, former gay porn model turned psycho killer. Follow us on Twitter: @AShuddersInstagram: @openshudderspodcastFacebook: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy PodcastEmail: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The Veiw From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

Photo: No known restrictions on publication. @Batchelorshow #Ukraine: Beijing POV: everyone is sick or hiding as the economy shudders.   Professor H.J. Mackinder, International Relations. #FriendsofHistoryDebatingSociety https://www.businessinsider.com/xi-jinping-backs-putin-ordered-closer-ties-despite-ukraine-wsj-2022-12

We're taking a short hiatus do that we can enjoy the Thanksgiving Holiday. This week we repost a truly creepy episode first published on February 17, 20210, The Lonely Hearts Killers. From 1947 to 1949, Martha Beck and Ray Fernandez conned then murdered over 20 people, including a small child. Follow us on Twitter: @AShuddersFacebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders A Creepy Podcast Instagram: @openshudderspodcastEmail: openshudders@yahoo.comEnjoy The Veiw From The Open Shudders,BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOWHAPPY THANKSGIVING

This week on the Pod, John, Justin and Kyle Discuss The Hitman's Bodyguard and The Hitman's Wifes Bodyguard..hear the heated debate amongst the Guys..Also another round of HAS KYLE SEEN IT?... Plus hear kyles opinion about the final 2 of Shudders 101 Scariest Moments Pull up a Stool and Listen! you can follow us and stay up to date with the podcast @themoviebarpod on Twitter, @moviebarpodcast on Instagram, & at The Movie Bar Podcast on facebook! And get official movie bar shirts at www.bonfire.com/store/movie-bar-podcast We are on itunes, Spotify, amazon podcasts, anchor, Google podcasts, and most places you listen to your podcasts! And be sure to check out our new website www.moviebarpod.com Join whatnot using our link https://whatnot.com/invite/themoviebar and get a $15 credit. Thank you for listening and please let us know what you want to hear by contacting us on social media or via email at themoviebar@outlook.com! Please Like, review and subscribe to the podcast --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

This week on the pod, John Justin & Kyle discuss Rob Zombies Halloween 1 & 2.. The boys also play thier new favorite game "Has Kyle Seen it?" plus, John and kyle discuss 2022's Halloween Ends plus all the internet drama... plus episode 6 &7 of Shudders 101 Scariest Horror Movie Moments, pull up a stool and enjoy you can follow us and stay up to date with the podcast @themoviebarpod on Twitter, @moviebarpodcast on Instagram, & at The Movie Bar Podcast on Facebook! And get official movie bar shirts at www.bonfire.com/store/movie-bar-podcast We are on itunes, Spotify, amazon podcasts, anchor, Google podcasts, and most places you listen to your podcasts! And be sure to check out our new website www.moviebarpod.com Join whatnot using our link https://whatnot.com/invite/themoviebar and get a $15 credit. Thank you for listening and please let us know what you want to hear by contacting us on social media or via email at themoviebar@outlook.com! Please Like, review and subscribe to the podcast --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

With the recent success of Ryan Murphy's The Watcher and Dahmer (which we discussed last week), we've decided to revisit Barry and Phillip's October 8, 2021 discussion of American Horror Story: Hotel starring Lady GaGa with special guest Michael Bill Special Note: We are no longer sponsored by Anchor. Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders Instagram:@openshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com THERE WILL BE JUSTICE FOR KATIE PALMER Enjoy The Veiw From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

In this Classic Open Shudders Episode from July 8, 2021, we cover the brutal rape and murder of Florida "Arrive Alive" model Lorraine Hendricks by a very sick Florida State Trooper Tim Harris on March 4,1990 Follow us on Twitter:@AShudders Instagram: @openshudderspidcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com Enjoy The Veiw From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

A worse than expected US inflation report triggered a Wall Street sell-off, Twitter whistleblower Peiter Zatko testified in front of a US Senate committee about alleged security lapses at the social media site, and the US is struggling to put together an alliance to address computer chip supply chain issues. Mentioned in this podcast:Rising inflation sparks fears of hard landing for US economyUS stocks slide after ‘hotter' than expected inflation readingWhistleblower accuses Twitter of putting ‘profits over security'US struggles to mobilise its East Asian ‘Chip 4' allianceThe FT News Briefing is produced by Fiona Symon, Sonja Hutson and Marc Filippino. The show's editor is Jess Smith. Additional help by Peter Barber, Michael Lello, David da Silva and Gavin Kallmann. Topher Forhecz is the FT's executive producer. The FT's global head of audio is Cheryl Brumley. The show's theme song is by Metaphor Music. Read a transcript of this episode on FT.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this Classic Open Shudders episode from December 31, 2020 we revisit the case where a young girl is on the receiving end of torture and murder by a very disturbed woman and her children. WARNING: THIS EPISODE CONTAINS SOME EXPLICIT DESCRIPTIONS OF TORTURE AND ABUSE OF A MINOR. If you suspect that a child is being abused or tortured, Childhelp canbe reached 24 hours a day, 7 days a week at it's toll free 1-800-4-A-Child (1-800-422-4453 Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders Instagram: @openshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders:A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

After that very intense Gacy two parter, we needed a break. This week, I drop the Classic Open Shudders episode, Madam LaLaurie and Her House of Horrors, one of the most haunted houses in America. Madam Marie Delphine LaLaurie, a New Orleans Creole socialite was one of the most notorious serial killers in history. The atrocities she committed on her enslaved servantsare horrible beyond compare. Follow us on Twitter:@AShudders Instagram: @openshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

As Phillip settles into his new place and Bob and I continue to prepare for next week's John Wayne Gacy two parter, we're posting the Season 1 episode Killer Cop: Antoinette Frank from December 21, 2020. In 1995, NOPD Officer Antoinette Frank and her boyfriend robbed a Vietnamese restaurant that she'd been hired for security killing two teenage workers. Follow us on: Twitter: @AShudders Instagram @openshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com Enjoy, The View From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW!

In this Classic Open Shudders Bonus episode we repost our interview with New Orleans LGBTQ historian Frank Perez. At the time of this interview, Frank was running for New Orleans City Councilman. Unfortunately, he didn't win the seat, but the interview was mentioned in our previous Classic Open Shudders and I though that our listeners would like to hear it. Follow us on: Twitter:@AShudders Instagram: @openshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com movieshudders@aol.com Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

On this anniversary of the Upstairs Lounge Fire, we are reposting our episode from a year ago. On June 24, 1973, the Upstairs Lounge, a gay bar in the New Orleans French Quarter was torched killing 32 people and injuring 15. The complacent attitude of the police, firefighters and politicians was beyond hateful. Follow us on: Twitter: @AShudders Instagram:@ ooenshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com movieshudders@aol.com Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

This Season 2 episode, originally dropped on February 3, 2021 did not transfer to Captivate, so we're reposting it. Chris Watts had it all, a beautiful wife, two beautiful little girls and a son on the way. Why would he commit the ultimate betrayal to his young family? Follow us on: Twitter: @AShudders Instagram: @openshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders A Creepy Podcast Email us at: openshudders@yahoo.com movieshudders@aol.com Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW

This is a past episode from March 2, 2021. In this episode we cover the most infamous New Orleans murder/suicide. When Zack Bowen falls to his death from a French Quarter hotel roof, police find a note in his pocket describing the grizzly murder of his girlfriend Addie Hall. This is of the saddest and most disturbing cases that we ever covered. Special note: This episode got lost in the transfer of hosts, so we're bringing it back. Follow us on: Twitter: @AShudders Instagram: @openshudderspodcast Facebook: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast Email: openshudders@yahoo.com movieshudders@aol.com

Welcome to our 103rd Podcast, we take a look at Shudders latest horror offering 'Virus: 32'; in our Something to Scream About section we talk about Gas stations in horror movies and on our last episode Matt picked our Movie from the vault ‘Demons' 00:25 - Intro 05:00 - News 11:40 - ‘Virus: 32' 38:20 - Something to Scream About 51:15 - Movie From the Vault

For our final Classic Open Shudders episode we revisit the Season Two episode from January 20, 2021, The New Orleans Axeman. This case has a personal family connection to Barry. Mike Pepitone, the alleged final victim of the notorious New Orleans Axeman happened to be Barry's great-uncle. Follow us on Twitter: AShudders. Instagram: @open-shudders-a-creepy-podcast Facebook: The Official Page For Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Email: openshudders@yahoo.com or movieshudders@aol.com. ENJOY THE VIEW FROM THE OPEN SHUDDERS, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

The guys have quite the news load before them this week! Listen as they hit the biggest stories of the week one after another.  That's only the beggining of the fun this week, however. For it's the time of year again. The time of year where everyone cringes from each of the hosts' top 50 coaster list, each one receiving the strictest of scrutiny from the others. Oh what fun! SHOW NOTES:   Disney, DeSantis, and Bears.... Oh my!  Report released regarding Orlando Freefall -- and it's bad  Lakemont receives $10k from ACE for Skyliner  Hersheypark is growing up  Palace will keep Raging River closed for 2022  12 year old injured leg on IceBreaker during previews  Kennywood Park Is Getting a Facelift  Dan Claims He Was Injured On Cyclone Roller Coaster, Files Lawsuit Against Lakeside Amusement Park  

In this encore episode from Season 2, first dropped on January 5, 2021, Barry and Phillip tell of encounters each had with the paranormal. Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders. Instagram: @openshudderspodcast. Facebook: The Official Page For Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Email openshudders@yahoo.com. movieshudders@aol.com --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

A new feature called Classic Open Shudders debuts this week. From time to time, we will republish a popular episode from an earlier season. This week we revisit the Season One episode from December 14, 2020 titled Unholy Matrimony: Sam Corey, Jim Giesick and the senseless murder of Patricia Giesick. On January 16, 1974, a young newlywed is killed in a hit and run accident on a lonely road in New Orleans East. At first, police believe it to be a routine hit and run until NOPD Detective John Dillmann decides to dig a little deeper. What he uncovered was one of the most evil murder plots motivated by pure greed Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders. Instagram: @openshudderspodcast. Facebook: The Official Page For Open Shudders A Creepy Podcast. Email us at : openshudders@yahoo.com or movieshudders@aol.com --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

Ahoy sailors! On this weeks episode, Bayley and Sasha declare it's their time to become the Women's Champion, but who will become the new #1 contender? The tag tournament continues with some impressive action from the Lucha Dragons and the debuting team of Blake and Murphy, Tyler Breeze finally challenges NXT Champion Adrian Neville and so much more! Dave and Adam also look at the WWE Studios film Leprechaun Origins...*Shudders*. Please leave us a rating on iTunes, it really helps the podcast. You can also find us on social media, where we love to hear what you think and what you'd love to hear over at http://www.facebook.com/NXTBTTF,  http://www.twitter.com/NXTBTTF,  http://www.instagram.com/NXTBTTF and we are now over at TikTok at NXTBBTF. 

This week starts our 2 week FOLK OFF Special! What's that? Well it's Folk Horror movies from around the globe! Next week we let you guys pick from Shudders "FOLK HORROR" section. So don't forget to let us know your picks. This week however we watched one film from OZ called Alison's Birthday (1981) & Eyes of Fire (1983) from Kentucky? Yep! Two films that summon the old ones to do dirty on a few folks. One of these films we enjoyed more than the other, but we review both and talk about what we think of it's messaging. JOIN US! Episode Link: https://www.longlivethevoid.com/episodes/ep266 Time Stamps HORRORSHOTS - 10:17 Alison's Birthday (1981) Spoiler Free Review - 13:27 Alison's Birthday - Trivia & Spoilers Discussion - 12:30 Eyes Of Fire (1983) Spoiler Free Review - 44:58 Eye Of Fire - Trivia & Spoilers - 1:02:46 End of Podcast Talk - 1:21:10 So grab your flute be sure to bring your VW THING and please for the love of podcasts don't forget to bring your Peanut Butter as we travel Beyond The Void!

A young woman finds it hard to stop quarrelling with her husband at Christmas - but is the warning voice she hears her own...or someone else's? This is an audio presentation (with music and sound effects) of "The Snow" by Hugh Walpole (1929). The first in a series of "festive" frighteners read by Jasper L'Estrange...

From the Halloween aisle of the Library of Sound Your Humble Host selects this classic tale from Suspense: “The House On Cyprus Canyon”--perfect for Halloween. And we pulled out all the stops as we asked our favorite people here on Sounds Like Radio to gather together for this one. Sam Spade, Howard Duff himself will be on hand to help introduce the story, Joseph Kearns (Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace) and our own Bronco's father on Great Gildersleeve & none other than movie star Robert Taylor will all be on today's show. This is a story I first heard as a teenager and there are several versions but this one is exceptional. Have a piece of Halloween candy and travel to The House On Cyprus Canyon originally broadcast 12/5/46.

We're diving into Clive Barker's 1987 supernatural horror classic, Hellraiser. This movie has a tiny budget, a whole lot of atmosphere, and even more piles of skin. Eric breaks down the background of the film and its enduring cultural significance while Jaime grapples with the gore and tries to sort through complex feelings about a complex film. Content Warnings: torture, gore, animal death snd animal torture, goopy textures, sexual content, flaying, sexual harassment and sexual assault. Show Notes: 'Hellraiser' Remake Headed To Huluhttps://www.slashfilm.com/581269/hellraiser-remake-hulu/Shudders of Pleasure: The story of Hellraiserhttps://lwlies.com/articles/shudders-of-pleasure-the-story-of-hellraiser/Domestic Bodies in Hell: The Significance of Gendered Embodiment in Clive Barker's Hellraiserhttps://bodystudiesjournal.org/domesticbodies-in-hell/

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In this week's movie episode, we review one of the classic "Devil Movies" from the 1970s The Omen starring Gregory Peck and Lee Remick. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

Open Shudders has reviewed some good movies. Unfortunately, this isn't one of them. In this installment of Open Shudders Goes to the Movies, we review the 1981 Australian stinker Road Games, starring Stacy Keach and Jamie Lee Curtis. Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

In this Bonus Episode, we review the 2001 film Joy Ride, staring Paul Walker, Steve Zahn and Leelee Sobieski. Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders. Instagram: @openshudderspodcast. Facebook Business Page: Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Facebook Group: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Patreon: www.patreon.com/openshudders. Email: openshudders@yahoo.com --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

Today I talk about John Wayne Gacy and the myths of killer clowns, which Taite is horrified of.....yay. Spoilers for Law and Order: SVU, Criminal Minds, and It (2017). Contact and Sources below. Contact: twitter: @oneeyeopen.pod instagram: @oneeyeopen.podcast email: 1eyeopenpodcast@gmail.com tik tok: @oneeyeopenpod Sources: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Wayne_Gacy https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.thewrap.com/john-wayne-gacy-shocking-revelations-peacock-series-killer-clown/amp/ https://lawandorder.fandom.com/wiki/Send_In_The_Clowns https://criminalminds.fandom.com/wiki/The_Capilanos https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_(2017_film) https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/2016_clown_sightings

In this Bonus Episode, we review the horror film Final Destination 2. A young girl's premonition saves several people from a horrible car crash on the interstate. Then they start dying in bizarre ways. Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders. Instagram: @openshudderspodcast. Facebook Business Page: Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Facebook Group: The Official Page for Open Shudders:A Creepy Podcast. Patreon: www.patreon.com/openshudders. Email: openshudders@yahoo.com. Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders,. BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

The Life of David

The Life of David

In our Season 4 opener Bonus Episode we review The Hitcher (1986) starring Rutger Hauer, C.Thomas Howell and Jennifer Jason Leigh. We will also compare it to the 2007 remake starring Sean Bean and Sophia Bush. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

In what is not only our Season 3 finale, but the finale of Targeted While Out: LGBTQ Hate Crimes, we review the 2008 film Milk. The film stars Sean Penn as Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected official in California history and his senseless assassination by a political rival. Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders. Instagram: @openshudderspodcast. Facebook Business Page: Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Facebook Group: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Patreon: www.patreon.com/openshudders. Email: openshudders@yahoo.com. Enjoy The View From The Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

The BHHcast continues its special summer series of lightning round interviews with the hosts of some outstanding indie podcasts. For the next two episodes, the BHHcast welcomes the hosts of true crime podcasts. In this episode, the Shepherds welcome Murder Bucket, A Few Bad Apples, Open Shudders and Final Days on Earth. Part two will be released June 29 in which the BHHcast welcomes the Jury Room Podcast, the Complicit Podcast and Ye Olde Crime Podcast.  The lightning round episodes will continue in August with a series with the hosts of paranormal podcast and film/TV/pop culture podcasts. Don't worry, the BHHcast will welcome back stand up comedians soon. The Murder Bucket  Podcast is Hannah Palmer's incredible look into murders, paranormal activity, abductions, kidnappings and weird stuff. She is currently on a "tour" around the country investigating cold cases from each state and the five inhabited territories. Find The Murder Bucket Podcast on your favorite podcast platform by visiting https://linktr.ee/MurderBucket. The A Few Bad Apples Podcast spotlights cases on police brutality, while also shining the light on a few good apples amongst police as well.  In her podcast, Katherine Sheffield hopes to "inform listeners of the severity of some of these cases and to hopefully create a movement where police no longer use excessive force."  Find out more about the A Few Bad Apples Podcast at https://afewbadapplespodcast.com/. The Open Shudders Podcast, your source for all things that go bump in the night, is hosted by Barry Marino and Phillip Landry. You decide if Barry is in New Orleans through the federal witness protection program. You can find all of their episodes at https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/open-shudders-a-creepy-podcast/id1542470713 or wherever good podcasts can be found. The Final Days on Earth podcast, hosted by Claire St. Amant, is an investigative podcast that examines mysterious deaths. In Season One, Claire examines the baffling disappearance of college wrestler Dammion Heard. To learn more about the Final Days on Earth Podcast and to hear the incredible story of Dammion Heard's death, visit https://www.finaldaysonearth.com/. Be sure to subscribe to the podcasts of all of our guests.  And, don't forget to subscribe to the BHHcast to catch our latest interviews with stand up comedians and special bonus episodes like this one. Support the show (https://www.buymeacoffee.com/bhhcast)

In this Bonus Episode, we review Boys Don't Cry (1999) starring Hilary Swank, Chloe Sevigny, Peter Sarsgaard, Brendon Sexton III and a surprisingly wonderful Lacy Goranson. Swank stars as the ill-fated trans man Brandon Teena with Sevigny as the object of his affection. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

In this Bonus episode, we introduce you to our new co-host Jennifer Lynn, who happens to be Barry's cousin. We review Orphan (2009) the story of a 9 year old girl who's not what she seems. Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders Instagram: @openshudderspodcast Facebook Business Page: Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast Facebook Group: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast Support us on Patreon: www.patreon.com/openshudders Email us at openshudders@yahoo.com Enjoy the view from the Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

In our debut movie review serires, we review Pretty Baby (1978) driected by Louis Malle. Staring Keith Carradine, Susan Sarandon and a 12 year old Brooke Shields as Violet a young "trick baby" who lives in a Storyville brothel with her prostitute mother (Sarandon). Follow us on Twitter: @AShudders. Instagram: @openshudderspodcast. Facebook Business Page: Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. Facebook Group: The Official Page for Open Shudders: A Creepy Podcast. You can help support this podcast at Patreon: www.patreon.com/openshudders. Email us: openshudders@yahoo.com. Enjoy the view from the Open Shudders, BUT DON'T FALL OUT OF THE WINDOW --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

Welcome back to another episode of RAW! This week we are talking about Shudders latest release THE POWER. We discuss the film in spoiler and spoiler filled discussions but not only that but we list the films we've checked out in the last week, Its a staked episode and defiantly one to check out But will it be worth it? All will be revealed on this weeks episode of HFD presents RAW Join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/2733563806894736/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/horrorfordummiespodcast/?hl=en Or support us on the Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/horrorfordummies

Welcome back to another episode of RAW! This week we are talking about Shudders latest release THE POWER. We discuss the film in spoiler and spoiler filled discussions but not only that but we list the films we've checked out in the last week, Its a staked episode and defiantly one to check out But will it be worth it? All will be revealed on this weeks episode of HFD presents RAW Join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/2733563806894736/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/horrorfordummiespodcast/?hl=en Or support us on the Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/horrorfordummies

Welcome back boils and ghouls! This week George and I wanna talk about Shudder's Creepshow. We really want to like this show and have a huge love for the first two films (3 does not exist).  Something just ain't landing for us. Are you ghouls loving the show? Or are you on the struggle bus with us? Let us know in an iTunes review. 

Reprograming a 2013 Dodge Charger for Better Throttle Response. 1971 Pontiac. Crashing The Jeep Safari. SEMA 2021 will be loaded with new parts. 2013 Ford F150 4x4 Ecoboost. 240k miles Misses. Shudders. BioFuels, Hydrogen, Gasoline and Electrics of the future.  1987 Ford Bronco Burns Oil. 2003 Dodge Ram 2500 Cummins Diesel Wont Stay Locked Up.  2012 Ford Edge 260k miles. Leaking Water Pump. Car Trivia. April Fools Car Company Jokes. Our Partner Liquimoly sits down with us.

Part 2 of this week's @EchoChamberFP takes a look at Shudders new horror film 'Shook' from Alesia Glidewell, Jennifer Harrington, and Tara L. Craig. Shook Digital Release Date: 18th February 2021 Director: Jennifer Harrington Cast: Daisye Tutor, Emily Goss, Nicola Posener, Octavius J. Johnson, Stephanie Simbari, Grant Rosenmeyer, Genelle Seldon Credit: The Squid Farm, Shudder Genre: Horror Running Time: 89 min Cert: 18 Website: Here. https://squidfarmproductions.com/features Trailer: Here. https://youtu.be/AN4CuLx9xGo Red Band Trailer: Here. https://youtu.be/k6mpX9QEb9E Twitter: @ShookMovie https://twitter.com/ShookMovie Instagram: @shookmovie https://www.instagram.com/shookmovie/ ------------ Check out Part 1 HERE and Part 3 HERE of this week's episode! *(Music) 'Stunt 101' by G-Unit - 2003

Home on the range! The Wandering Three is taking the wagon trail up to Matten Cleave, a farming town in the Swardlands to put on a good show and look for the elusive Aeon Towers. What amazing sights will they see on the way? Beautiful hills, as far as the eyes can see? Local culture, with their homely ways of life? Unsettling, rotting shacks with an aura of malice that just whispers "I have not left yet" that makes your skin crawl? Oh, maybe some wildlife! As the Circus of Wayward Wonders continues up the Verdant Pass to keep their show on the road, horror meets hilarity as our heroes clown their way through the quaint plains and see what the Swardlands have to offer! STOP the mighty landsharks from eating the innocent villagers! SHARE the tales of the land on the back of a wagon! CLUTCH your holy relics for protection from the angry evil that just won't move on! All this and more in this episode of Dice Will Roll, the Gayest Pathfinder Podcast on the Planet where we ask the Hard Questions like... what items should you pack for a game of fantasy Phasmaphobia? https://www.dicewillroll.com/ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/dicewillroll Discord: https://discord.gg/FmB567R Twitter: https://twitter.com/DiceWillRoll Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dicewillroll Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/dicewillroll/ Music by Will Savino, MusicD20 Theme Song by Sim @TheSimulacrae Proud Members of the Be Gay Roll Dice network. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/dice-will-roll/support

All sorts of beauty products show up on the shelves you pluck your self-care essentials from. These range from the must-haves (retinol-everything), the creative (cute, non-invisible pimple patches), and the downright strange (placenta serums). But if there's one thing I've deduced after six years of testing countless launches and chatting with hundreds of dermatologists in my career as a beauty editor, it's that there's one product category that should be obliterated altogether. In the battle between face wipes versus cleansers, the latter will — and I can't stress this enough — always reign supreme. Ask any expert and you'll learn that the basis of a good skin care regimen is all about your cleanse. "Properly cleansing your face is of utmost importance in your routine," Dr. Elyse Love, MD, a board-certified dermatologist, tells Bustle. While it can feel satisfying and look effective when you see all the grime come off your skin after using a facial wipe, you really want that dirt and debris to go down the drain. And that's not exactly what happens with these wipes: Unlike with a traditional cleanser, some of that gunk stays on your skin. *Shudders.* "If you want to properly cleanse your face, removing all dirt, debris, and makeup, you need to use a traditional cleanser," Dr. Dennis Gross, MD, board-certified dermatologist and founder of his eponymous skin-care line, tells Bustle. "Unfortunately makeup and facial cleansing wipes just don't cut it. Because you don't rinse them off, they tend to leave a film on the skin, making it feel tacky and sticky. This can lead to clogged pores and blackheads." In his dermatology practice, every time he meets with a new patient that's struggling with clogged pores or breakouts, his first question is about which cleanser they're using. "It's so important, as it sets up the rest of your routine for success," he says. I know what you're thinking. "But they're so easy!" "I need something quick!" "They're easy to throw in my bag!" Name a case for the facial cleansing wipe and I've heard it. It's not that I don't get the appeal. They're convenient and foolproof and take mere seconds to use, but your skin is going to be much healthier and happier — not to mention less breakout-prone — if you go the extra mile and use a facial cleanser from a bottle rather than a towelette. Face wipes are like the feather duster of the skin care world: They seem like they're doing what they're supposed to, but are actually just moving gunk around instead of getting rid of it. It's time that the product category be retired, IMHO. When you think about the ingredients in facial cleansing wipes, it paints a better picture of the problem. According to Love, they're typically formulated with a significant percentage of preservatives in order to prevent bacterial and fungal growth (since they're constantly exposed to air, she says). "So the wipes do remove makeup but they also leave a residue of preservatives, and these can be irritating to the skin," she tells Bustle. "Some people may eventually develop an allergy to these preservatives." Common preservatives used in wipes include methylisothiazolinone and diazolidinyl urea, both of which can irritate sensitive skin types. Her take? If you're going to use a facial wipe, never use it as a replacement for cleansing. Of course, that means that you should use a regular face wash after the wipe... which defeats the whole purpose of the measly cloth that can't do the job on its own. I haven't even touched on the sustainability factor yet. Facial cleansing wipes are made for single use — and single-use products are not exactly friendly to the environment. They're categorized as "disposable wipes" according to the FDA, and are typically made from materials such as polyester, polypropylene, cotton, wood pulp, or rayon fibers. The issue? Polyester and polypropylene are essentially forms of plastic, and the former doesn't biodegrade (the latter takes roughly 20 to 30 years to do so). According to a report by Zero Waste Europe, an organization that pushes for sustainability practices, the beauty industry alone produces at least 120 billion packages each year. Considering the fact that facial wipe containers come with about 30 towelettes per package, it adds up to a whopping chunk of that waste — all for a product that doesn't work all that well. Ready to put down the cleansing wipe for good? Great. For those who still insist that using traditional face wash is a chore — you do have to get your hands wet and maybe even deal with water running down your arms as you rinse, after all — try to reframe it as a mini facial session. Or a massage. Just channel your inner Joanna Vargas, apply a cleanser of your choice (one that's meant for your skin type), and massage in circles over your skin before rinsing to reveal a fresh canvas that's ready to absorb the rest of your routine. I'll admit I've been annoyed in the past about the need to thoroughly wash my face, but — after mustering up the strength to get up from the couch — I tell myself that my glow will be beautiful as long as I manage this all-important step. I even do it after one-too-many margaritas or when I'm half-asleep. It's paid off, BTW. For the sake of your skin and the environment, I hereby beg that facial wipes be retired as a product category come 2021. If the pandemic-induced quarantine has taught the world anything, it's that you do in fact have time to take care of yourself (case in point: I now moisturize the skin below my neck!). And so the new year is prime time to ditch the not-so-effective, landfill- and pore-clogging wipes for good. You'll thank me later.

This episode of the South Carolina Lede for December 20, 2020, features: a remembrance of South Carolina political heavyweight Don Fowler, who passed away this week; an update on the state's economic recovery; perspective from frontline workers at Prisma Health on the COVID-19 vaccine rollout; and more.

Interview with Dan Hawkins VFX artist for Shudders Host! Trash Arts take is our own views and opinions on anything film related. From mainstream films to indies. Where back for a new season! This week we have an interview with film maker and VFX artist Daniel Hawkins who recently worked on Shudders Host. We also discuss all things alien in films! If you wish to be interviewed on a future episode please email- trashartsportsmouth@gmail.com Part of the Without Your Head Podcast Network! --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/trashartstake/message

Cig and Rannie burn some bush and review episode 2 of Shudder's Creepshow. Support our show and get all kinds of bonus content on our patreon http://patreon.com/rancig

--- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/barry-marino-openshud/support

Welcome back to another week of fun with Horror for Dummies. Join us this week as we continue discussing  films that have been realised in 2020. This week we talk about Shudders new film THE CLEANSING HOUR. But we don't stop there, we also discuss multiple films such as THE OWNERS, THE PALE DOOR, SPREE, HOSTS and others. Hope you enjoy HORROR FOR DUMMIES is a weekly show that's released every Thursday. If you'd like to support our show, please subscribe to our podcast free in iTunes, Apples Podcasts app, Spotify or any other great podcasting apps. We are proud members of  the padded room podcast network so also find us there and leave us a review! Thanks for listening to Horror for dummies! https://www.facebook.com/horrorfordummies/?ref=bookmarks https://www.instagram.com/horrorfordummiespodcast/?hl=en https://letterboxd.com/Horrordummie/

Welcome back to another week of fun with Horror for Dummies. Join us this week as we continue discussing  films that have been realised in 2020. This week we talk about Shudders new film THE CLEANSING HOUR. But we don't stop there, we also discuss multiple films such as THE OWNERS, THE PALE DOOR, SPREE, HOSTS and others. Hope you enjoy HORROR FOR DUMMIES is a weekly show that’s released every Thursday. If you’d like to support our show, please subscribe to our podcast free in iTunes, Apples Podcasts app, Spotify or any other great podcasting apps. We are proud members of  the padded room podcast network so also find us there and leave us a review! Thanks for listening to Horror for dummies! https://www.facebook.com/horrorfordummies/?ref=bookmarks https://www.instagram.com/horrorfordummiespodcast/?hl=en https://letterboxd.com/Horrordummie/

The TDN guys are once again joined by their good friend and Eagles fan Nate Lee to discuss their 'Tudders and Shudders' for week 9. The Bills mafia looks to take out DangeRuss and the Hawks. Dalvin Cookie Monster hopes to have another feast against the Lions. How long can Drew Brees rely on players like Alvin Kamara and Michael Thomas? Washington could be the best "Football Team" in the NFC East.The Colts are coming off of a convincing win but can they stop Lamar?

With everything going downright batshit insane this year, we need Halloween now more than ever. Thankfully, we've all (mostly) survived long enough to enjoy at least one more round of dumb movies about Halloween parties, yeti wolfsmen, and pot-smoking goblins, and nothing is gonna stop us from doing just that. So, mash along with us and the monsters this week, if you please. It's the only podcast guaranteed to taste exactly like pumpkin pie, with half the calories! Up first! Y'all remember that Trick or Treats (1982) movie? No, not the one with that cute little burlap-sack-faced guy Sam. Not, not the one with that cute little burlap-sack-faced guy Ozzy. This is the one with that Rock and Roll Vampire in it! (no, not Ozzy). Anyhow, I guess you probably don't remember it. We didn't either. But it's got Peter Jason in drag doing battle with a proto-HomeAlone-style prankster child and his babysitter on Halloween night. And a bevy of character actors you'll love! So hear us chat about it. Next up! If you're an old, and you loved Halloween so much in 1985 that you tuned into ABC on November 1st hoping for the spookytime parties to continue, you must've been thrilled to see The Midnight Hour airing for your own, personal enjoyment. And if not, you'll love hearing us chat about this bizarre little movie (from Jack "Child's Play 3" Bender) in which all of the ghouls/goblins/yetismens of the afterlife invade the nowlife in a smalltown. With The Smiths on the soundtrack?!?!Finally! It's a third movie! With goblins, a weed wolf, and semi-famous partygoer cameos! Of course, we're talking about the Goblin-themed Full Moon Halloween classic Weedjies: Halloweed Night (2019). It's a movie where some goblins or something fuck up a party, with marijuana. Come for the dank-ass goblins, stick around for the part where Kevin Moss says "lit A.F." and "totes fun" in his review!All this plus Kevin's sinister cinema sins & drive-in insanities, a dissection of Joe Bob Brigg's natural cut-points, no fake bats, shillin' for Shudders, too many beds, what kinda Halloween donuts y'all eatin' in there?, Boratio Sanz, an exciting new breed of Goblins is discussed at length, Paul McCartney's extensive musical catalogue holdings, our weekly news plus blu-ray picks and even more! Direct Donloyd HereGot a movie suggestion for the show, or better yet an opinion on next week's movies? Drop us a line at JFDPodcast@gmail.com. Or leave us a voicemail: 347-746-JUNK (5865). Add it to your telephone now! JOIN THE CONVERSATION!Also, if you like the show, please take a minute and subscribe and/or comment on us on iTunes, Stitcher, Blubrry or Podfeed.net. Check us out on Facebook and Twitter! We'd love to see some of your love on Patreon - it's super easy and fun to sign up for the extra bonus content. We'll be bobbin' for goblins for your love and support. With picks like these, you GOTTA #DonloydNow and listen in!

Episode 32! LISTEN IN! Biz Bites N' More Podcast covers the new war brewing in Crypto, PayPal just threw their hat in the ring and now Square has a big competitor. Quibi is the first death in a different war of business: the streaming wars, and it go UGLY. Finally, Adidas is selling off their arm of America that is in Reebok for reportedly just 2 Billion Euros? (Dollars? Idk), which is surprisingly low for a company that is very well known. The sell off for "people familiar with the matter" aka douccheeee baggggggsss jk, but don't you picture a finance bro when you hear the phrase "people familiar with the matter" go fuck yourself, but whatever, that's a low price for a very known brand. TUNE IN! And leave a voice message on Anchor.fm/biz-bites-n-more also go to the blog for extra extra content Bizbitesnmore.com and follow the twatter machine and my YouTube page! All Biz Bites N' More if you aren't picking up on the fucking theme jared. JK JK! I love you. Bye. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/biz-bites-n-more/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/biz-bites-n-more/support

Jess & Mandy mutually agree that if they were to have babies now, they'd both make terrible mothers seeing as even the playful squeal of a child sends shivers down their spine. And to any mums out there - of course we're not talking about YOUR child! It's everyone else's! See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Shudders new bangger "Host" is making alot of waves. From across the pond, Jed & Radina give us the ins and outs of this new age horror. 

The Creepshow Film Series Retrospective Welcome to the first of 2 episodes dedicated to "Creepshow" in this episode we cover the entire "Creepshow" film series...even the horrendously painful part 3 and the unofficial sequel. Next time we cover Shudders' 2019 Season 1 of this iconic series... I will give you my favorite stories from each film, as well as favorite kills and even some fun factoids. Also, I answer listener email an talk about future episodes. TWITTER: @L_I_DPodcast INSTAGRAM: @LivingInDarknessPodcast

Sluuuuugs! Ben and Gabe talk killer slugs, Shudders new show, and swallowing weird objects.Send us your thoughts on the movie or call in and leave a voicemail:controlaltdeathpodcast@gmail.com (818)457-6887Follow us on social media:https://www.controlaltdeath.comhttps://www.instagram.com/ControlAltDeathhttps://www.twitter.com/ControlAltDeathhttps://www.facebook.com/ControlAltDeathhttps://www.twitch.com/ControlAltDeathhttps://www.controlaltdeath.com/youtube

Let's be socially isolated... together. 0:00 -  Working from home during the COVID19 pandemic 28:16 - Theatrical releases going to streaming services at prices that might make sense for families but not individuals 36:04 - Sony spills the beans on the PS5 and manages to bore gamers 46:05 - I played the Resident Evil 3 demo. I liked the Resident Evil 3 demo. 55:50 - I'm want Doom Eternal but I'm not buying it because there's paid DLC on the way and I want to know what it is first 57:32 - How I discovered Animal Crossing was not a game for me If you missed Saturday’s live broadcast of Molehill Mountain, you can watch the video replay on YouTube. Alternatively, you can catch audio versions of the show on iTunes. Molehill Mountain streams live at 7p PST every Saturday night on RandomTower! Credits: Molehill Mountain is hosted by E. Zachary Knight and Andrew Eisen. The show is edited by Andrew Eisen. Music in the show includes “Albino” by Brian Boyko. It is in the public domain and free to use. Molehill Mountain logo by Scott Hepting. Chat Transcript: 6:59 PMNicholas Dickey​Thanks for streaming! 6:59 PMotritzu​Evenin' Andrew. I've been enjoying Animal Crossing. 6:59 PMNicholas Dickey​Are you more comfortable working from home now? 7:00 PMScrungle Humingsworth​hey Andrew! playing jackbo? with my family! 7:00 PMScrungle Humingsworth​jackbox 7:00 PMNicholas Dickey​Animal Crossing gaining a lot of buzz 7:01 PMaddictedtochaos​Hello 7:06 PMaddictedtochaos​Working from home is not an option for me. However, there is NO way my company will tell us not to come to work short of the entire building burning to the ground. 7:08 PMaddictedtochaos​Warehouse 7:09 PMNicholas Dickey​100 percent the heroes, indeed! 7:09 PMaddictedtochaos​We supply to convenience stores in WV, OH, PA, KY, MD 7:13 PMmatthew wilson​you could still do pickup at most restrants? 7:13 PMmatthew wilson​have you ecountered panic buying? stores around me keep getting cleaned out 7:15 PMmatthew wilson​I dont get it, of all things why tolet papper 7:17 PMmatthew wilson​so all the shit that will go bad in a few days people sure are smart /s 7:17 PMNicholas Dickey​ew 7:17 PMNicholas Dickey​huh, I should try that 7:17 PMotritzu​Tofu-egg 7:18 PMotritzu​...*Shudders in disgust*... 7:18 PMmatthew wilson​atleast its the death of the handshack 7:19 PMmatthew wilson​donate the masks, they do you no good 7:20 PMNicholas Dickey​Exactly, always the tub/shower haha 7:20 PMWarren Lewis​Hi Andrew! 7:21 PMmatthew wilson​safe bet its empty sadly people are being xenophobic and avioding asian stores 7:23 PMScrungle Humingsworth​I laugh at the people avoiding chinese stores 7:23 PMotritzu​I've always used the "Fistbump" as an alternate high five. 7:23 PMScrungle Humingsworth​because Asian stores have rice for pennies on the dollar 7:23 PMScrungle Humingsworth​POUNDS OF RICE FOR CHEAP BABAAAAY 7:23 PMotritzu​I've always used the "Fistbump" as an alternate high five. 7:23 PMAndreas Protopapas​hello Andrew, the cheek air kiss thing is the standard greeting here in Greece 7:25 PMScrungle Humingsworth​the virus can get in through your eyes, should of bought a full face mask 7:25 PMAndreas Protopapas​some people rub noses though... I don't know what's worse 7:26 PMotritzu​It's an open box (if you've used any of 'em) there's very little chance they'll accept 'em. 7:29 PMmatthew wilson​yup this killed movie threatres 7:31 PMmatthew wilson​for me its like 17, but thats becouse the rare time I do its a dine in thretre 7:31 PMNicholas Dickey​I wonder if they will force us to sit through ads or not 7:31 PMmatthew wilson​also they assume more than 1 persons are watching 7:32 PMWarren Lewis​I saw Knives Out three times, and Endgame four times. It depends on the movie if I'm going to see it more than once. 7:37 PMmatthew wilson​ms handled it better using digital found...

uninspired monologues

Why do we have to keep talking about this subject? Quit cherry-picking your religious texts to justify your shitty behavior. We want to talk about lighthearted things, but we get sucked into continuing the discussion. Politicians are dirtbags, the lot of them (some are less dirtbaggy than others). Chris almost gets sound-bit. Chris falls FLAT. Just pancakes himself. Begs for dispensation. Jeff says no. Shudders. THE BEST [redacted] EVER!!! We [redacted] OUT!!! They're [redacted]!!!

This week, shudder and celebrate at the ins and outs of a woman's life lived, often through a lens.  *** Subscribe via Apple Podcasts. Subscribe via Google Play. Support via Patreon Subscribe via Stitcher. Subscribe via RSS Feed. Follow on Instagram. Follow on Twitter. Like and Follow on Facebook. Visit the Official Prose Website

Good morning everyone, it's time for a new episode and a new contest! This week we brought Jason of Sinister Cinema Reviews / In The Mic of Madness with us to talk about two brand new films. We reviewed Shudders new original Terrified that may just reel you in horror. We also talk about Netflix's Errementari which is present by Alex De La Iglesia. One of these is on both our Top 5 of 2018. Plus we make a new shot for one of the films too that has a contest attached to it. EPISODE LINK https://www.longlivethevoid.com/episodes/ep116 So grab a cup of water, a bus and be sure to grab some chick peas as we travel Beyond The Void! LINKS TO Jason Sinister Cinema Reviews https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCresRFKW5d1r_GiShCE3SUA

Last of the world. Lost Person Drown. First in the fire. Inward with glee! Standing on night light, holding cat, like a gun. Lost in shudders. Deep against the floor! Flailing like shadows, lost to the light. Damn the sunbeam that spews, All over the night.

Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings  by Andrea Tang     The flyboy crash-landed into Magdalisa’s life on a Wednesday, just before mid-afternoon prayers. More specifically, he crash-landed into the spindly stone watchtower over Dalaga Cemetery, and really, that amounted to the same thing. Magdalisa, for her part, probably wouldn’t have noticed if the flyboy’s spectacular nose-dive hadn’t so thoroughly disturbed the ghosts.     Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip Episode 51 for March 3, 2018. This is your host, Keffy, and I’m super excited to be sharing this story with you. Our story today is "Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings" by Andrea Tang. Andrea Tang is a DC-based speculative fiction writer and international affairs wonk who earns her keep scribbling stuff about power politicking that slides on a scale from very real to very fictional, depending on who's asking. When not hunched over a notebook misusing her imagination, she's known to enjoy theater, music, and martial arts. Catch her on Twitter @atangwrites, or drop by for a hello and a virtual cup of tea at http://andreatangwrites.com.   Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings  by Andrea Tang       The flyboy crash-landed into Magdalisa’s life on a Wednesday, just before mid-afternoon prayers. More specifically, he crash-landed into the spindly stone watchtower over Dalaga Cemetery, and really, that amounted to the same thing. Magdalisa, for her part, probably wouldn’t have noticed if the flyboy’s spectacular nose-dive hadn’t so thoroughly disturbed the ghosts. Tita Shulin, naturally, was the ghost tasked with telling Magdalisa, who’d been dozing off over a half-swept catacomb beneath the graveyard proper. The blast of icy air across Magdalisa’s ears put an abrupt end to the nap. Yelping, the girl scrambled awake. “Tita Shulin! I’m sorry, I’m on my way to prayers, I promise—” “Sod the prayers,” said Magdalisa’s tita. Those three words, more than anything, alerted Magdalisa to the fact that something serious indeed had happened. Sleep-fog fled her mind. Twisting her hands together, Magdalisa leaned forward, until she was practically nose-to-nose with Tita Shulin. “Tita,” said Magdalisa, more quietly now, but a good deal more urgently. Her words bounced off the catacomb walls. Tita, tita, tita. “What’s the matter?” Tita Shulin’s mouth pursed. Ghosts were funny creatures. Tita Shulin didn’t glow, or go dramatically translucent, or otherwise give much indication that she was dead. She looked nearly the same as she had in life: square-shouldered and square-jawed, with golden-brown skin, her hair—dyed stubbornly black well into her seventies—close-cropped in a fashion that had supposedly scandalized the family when Tita Shulin was still a young woman, and not yet a tita at all. Tita Shulin, as a ghost, turned the air around her cold, and when particularly exasperated with Magdalisa, sometimes floated a few inches off the ground and telekinetically bandied objects about. Still, given that Tita Shulin, when living, had been a veteran of the Corrazon Witches’ Corps, death had done little to change her. Now, invisible forces tugged Magdalisa upright from the catacomb surface, and smoothed down her collar with perfunctory sensibility. “A sky-sailor has crashed his paper phoenix into the tower.” “What?” shrieked Magdalisa, scurrying after Tita Shulin. The ghost floated up the grimy stone stairway with alarming speed. “Is he all right?” “No. Come on, kid, pick up those human legs of yours. You may live with ghosts, but that doesn’t mean you have to move like the dead.” Magdalisa, legs burning protest by the time she panted her way to the top of Dalaga’s watchtower, caught sight of the wings before anything else. Painted sleekly red and black, even their collapsed length spanned the tower’s highest turret, brightly-colored paper still fluttering weakly against the wind. Fierce, hand-painted phoenix eyes stared blankly at Magdalisa from the smoking wreckage, devoid of life. Magdalisa swallowed an odd lump at the sight. Then she heard the faint, low-pitched keening beneath. Magdalisa hurried forward and crouched low. Grimacing as her knees hit a sticky little puddle of blood, she pried up one of the singed, broken wings. When Magdalisa caught sight of the sky-sailor—or what remained of him—her entire body flinched. “He’s dead.” Murmurs of dismay greeted this answer. When Magdalisa turned, she found herself facing the entire lineup of Dalaga ghosts, their faces wide-eyed and curious. Tita Shulin, standing at the front like the self-proclaimed matriarch she was, snorted at Magdalisa’s proclamation. “Please. We’re dead, kid. Flyboy’s just on the brink of it, that’s all. You of all people should know the difference, hmm? He’s probably a goner, either way.” One inky, ghostly eyebrow lifted. “Unless, of course...” Magdalisa recoiled without quite meaning to. “I can’t. High Priest Stefan won’t like it.” One of the other ghosts, a stout scowling woman called Nia, clicked her tongue irritably at the High Priest’s name. “Sod old Stefan. Petty little man.” Her sister, Luchia, gasped and shoved at Nia. “Quiet, foolish girl! He’s the High Priest!” Nia’s mouth set mulishly. “High Priest or not, I don’t see him around right now, do you?” “Ah,” said Tita Shulin, tapping her chin. “What an interesting point Nia’s raised.” “I could get in trouble,” said Magdalisa, but staring at the broken red wings, and listening to their sky-sailor’s terrible, broken animal sounds beneath, she could already feel the magic bubbling mutinously in her veins. Tita Shulin shrugged. “No one here’s gonna tell. Right, girls?” Fervent, nervous agreement chorused between the other ghosts. Magdalisa swallowed, and turned back to the phoenix’s smoking wreckage. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know if she was apologizing to herself, or the three-quarters-dead flyboy, or the sun god Dal above, whose High Priest’s commandments she was almost certainly violating with the spark of unnatural, death-kissed power between her hands. Now, kneeling in the drying puddle of the flyboy’s blood, she lay her hands against his limp, broken-angled body. The flyboy had stopped keening, and lay unresponsive, his light brown skin now waxy and grey-tinged. His flank, terribly cold, barely rose and fell under her touch, but what little air he had left was enough. Magdalisa had more to give. A sigh shuddered through her. She let the power go. At first, nothing happened. Then a second sigh tore through the body beneath hers, violent in its exhalation. The flyboy bucked against her palms, muscles tightening under his skin. His eyes, flying open, rolled back in his skull, as his mouth widened in a soundless cry. Bones snapped back into place. New blood rushed to his previously pallid cheeks. Shudders wracked him over and over, as his body knit itself arduously back together. Still, Magdalisa’s hands held steady, her fingers twining through the fleeting threads of the flyboy’s soul, feeding its life back into his convulsing body. A final bone snapped into place. He whimpered once, then went slack in Magdalisa’s arms. She pressed her ear to his chest, and blew out a sigh of satisfaction at the drumming heart inside. When she leaned back on to her heels, the flyboy was blinking dark, slightly unfocused eyes at her. “I’m alive,” he croaked. “Yes,” agreed Magdalisa, a bit crossly, “no thanks to your sky-sailing skills. Welcome to Dalaga.” His smile at the name ‘Dalaga’ was weak, but strangely giddy. “Sanctuary,” he rasped. “What?” “Sanctuary,” he repeated, more sluggishly now. “Dalaga. I claim...” He trailed off, eyes drifting shut. Nia patted Magdalisa fondly on the shoulder. “Let him rest. Dying and coming back in the same day is hard work. You know how it is.” “I do,” said Magdalisa, frowning as she tried to arrange the flyboy’s arms more comfortably, “but I—” She hissed, as her fingers brushed cold metal at his fingers. “What?” Luchia asked, anxiously poking her head over her sister’s. “What’s the matter?” Arranged across the flyboy’s fingers were a series of gold and silver rings carved with interlocked triangles. That meant one thing. Magdalisa’s heart thudded with alarm inside her chest. “He’s a Wanderer.” “Lots of sky-sailors are,” said Tita Shulin, taking a seat beside Magdalisa. The blood-stained ground seemed to bother ghosts a good deal less than living humans. “I expect they have more need of paper phoenixes than most.” Her eyes fixed on Magdalisa’s. “Are you really going to judge him for it?” Magdalisa had the good grace to feel a stab of guilt. “They’re heretics,” she said defensively. “Ah,” said her tita, “and so are all residents of Dalaga, technically speaking. Even if he’s not a woman, a Wanderer flyboy ought to fit in just fine.”   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Every so often, between chores, Magdalisa considers the epithet carved across the entrance to the cemetery. Dalaga’s name in full is Dalaga Cemetery for Misguided Ladies, the sun god Dal’s final refuge for women who strayed from the holy path of righteousness in life. The ghosts of Dalaga have been prostitutes and adulterers, god-deniers and conspirators, each new addition finding more creatively myriad ways to spend lives of merrymaking sin, before succumbing to death. The High Priest declares that the beautiful towers and ancient catacombs of Dalaga Cemetery are a tribute to Dal’s grace, a refuge for sinful females to repent in their afterlife and bask in the god’s glorious forgiveness for all eternity. Magdalisa’s not sure the High Priest has this bit quite right—in her experience, Dalaga’s ghosts aren’t especially interested in penance or forgiveness. Mostly, they seem interested in bad jokes, the latest Witches’ Corps gossip, complaining about the dust on their graves, and generally busybodying their way through Magdalisa’s life. But then, Magdalisa’s just a graveyard keeper, who earns her living cleaning the catacombs and weeding the gardens. What does she know, anyway? “I know what brought me to Dalaga. A job, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   Magdalisa had been tending the latest, strangest newcomer to Dalaga, when a blast of winter-worthy cold announced the ghosts’ presence in the tower’s spare room. “You have a visitor,” announced Tita Shulin. “It’s the High Priest,” blurted out Luchia, bobbing over the elder ghost’s shoulder, eyes very wide, as she wrung her hands. “He’s here for one of his dratted surprise inspections. Oh, Magdalisa, Magdalisa, what shall we do?” “Quiet, girl,” snapped Tita Shulin. “You’re not helping.” “What a curse it is to be a woman,” moaned Luchia, ignoring her. “What a curse, to spend a woman’s life at the whims of men, only to spend death at Dalaga and discover yourself at the whims of the High Priest, of all possible men. The High Priest!” Magdalisa sighed. Sometimes, there really was no help for Luchia. In life, she’d been a minor priestess of Dal, the third daughter of an impoverished man using his offspring to vie for respectability, which Luchia had promptly dashed when she’d run off with a young man from one of Corrazon’s neighboring cities. The rebellious lovers had lived a happy enough life together, before illness took Luchia, and sent her home to be buried at Dalaga Cemetery for Misguided Ladies. Now, Luchia began to wail. “A curse to be a woman, and no respite from it, even here! I don’t know why you would ever choose such a life, Magdalisa!” “I didn’t,” said Magdalisa, a little dryly. “I’m afraid it rather chose me.” “Magdalisa,” said Tita Shulin. Her voice was a knife, cleaving straight through Luchia’s histrionics. “How’s the flyboy?” Magdalisa glanced down at the guest bed’s occupant. For the past several days, the young Wanderer had lain unconscious more often than not, and when he woke, he barely kept his eyes open long enough to string two words together. She didn’t even know his name. Still, his color improved daily, he swallowed the congee she spooned into his mouth, and his once-thready pulse seemed to grow stronger each time Magdalisa checked it. “Alive,” said Magdalisa. Often, the barest truth was also best. Tita Shulin clicked her tongue. “It shall have to do.” “He’s coming!” hissed Nia from around the corner. “Magdalisa, you’d best have a story ready!” Helplessly, Magdalisa looked to her tita, who looked back with the same, unperturbed calm she’d carried everywhere in life. “Eh,” said Tita Shulin. “Let him come. This is Dalaga Cemetery, and you are still its keeper, for the moment. That position leaves you some sway over the goings-on of this refuge, and don’t you let old Stefan tell you otherwise.” It was good advice to go out on. The High Priest of Corrazon burst into the spare room in the same instant the ghosts vanished. “Graveyard keeper,” he barked. His beady blue eyes swept toward the bed where the flyboy slept. “Explain yourself.” Magdalisa folded her hands primly over her apron, and bowed her head to the High Priest. “I have been performing my holy duties as the keeper of Dalaga Cemetery, Your Grace.” “Holy duties!” “Indeed, Your Grace.” “Do you know what the city watch told me this afternoon?” asked the High Priest, in the low, dangerous voice of someone who does not actually expect you to answer the question. “One of those wretched sky-sailors on their ridiculous paper birds was shot down by a sentry on suspicion of espionage. But when runners were sent to find the body, none was recovered. Instead, we hear word of a paper wreckage on the very watchtower of Dalaga Cemetery, and...” He trailed off meaningfully. Magdalisa, even with her head bent, could practically feel those beady eyes boring into her skull. “You, sheltering an unexpected guest.” “Yes, Your Grace.” Magdalisa kept her voice even. “It’s as I said. Being a cemetery, Dalaga is a sacred space, holy to our sun god Dal. You have reminded me yourself, Your Grace, on many occasions.” “I don’t see why—” “As Dalaga’s graveyard keeper, is it not then my holy duty to take in the wounded who arrive seeking care and refuge?” “Yes, yes,” snapped the High Priest, flapping an irritable hand, “but if you are harboring a spy, an enemy to the city and the god himself—” “I’m not a spy,” said a new voice. Magdalisa’s head jerked up, deference forgotten, as she and the High Priest rounded as one on the bed in the corner. The flyboy was awake, and sitting upright, black curls mussed, thick-lashed eyes narrowed at the High Priest. He looked a little wan, beneath the usual dusky complexion common to the Wandering folk, but the expression behind those pitch-dark eyes gave every impression of alertness. And anger. “I’m not a spy,” he repeated. “I was delivering routine messages to the sky-sailors’ charities within the city.” “Then why, pray tell, did the sentry shoot you down?” demanded the High Priest. The sky-sailor’s lip curled. “Corrazon’s city sentries have never been overly fond of sky-sailors.” The High Priest’s face grew mottled. “Keep in mind, boy, your position.” Mouth pursed, his gaze raked the young man up and down. “The sentries are protectors and servants of Dal. And no one believes the words of Wanderers. Be careful where you choose to fling your accusations.” “I’m not accusing anyone of anything,” said the sky-sailor in even tones. He smiled unpleasantly. “I’m sure it was a mistake.” “Then you will not mind being tried for espionage at the city courts.” “On what grounds?” “You are a Wanderer,” began the High Priest, eyeing the rings at the flyboy’s fingers with a grimace, “and a sky-sailor, besides. It is well within the authority of the High Priest of Corrazon to detain individuals of suspicious background—” “Not in a sanctuary,” interrupted Magdalisa. A memory clicked into place at the back of her mind. Both men’s gazes whipped toward her, one cold, one bemused. “What are you talking about?” demanded the High Priest. “Sanctuary,” repeated Magdalisa. “Cemeteries are sacred to our sun god. In a refuge holy to Dal, no blood can be spilt, and no hands lain on another against their will. As such, so long as we stand on Dalaga’s grounds, Your Grace, I’m afraid you’ll be quite unable to detain...” “Rigo,” the flyboy supplied, looking rather amused now. “I’m called Rigo.” “Rigo,” agreed Magdalisa, head bowed to the now crimson-faced High Priest. “There you have it. I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace. I’m but a humble graveyard keeper, who answers only to Dal’s will, which commands us all.” At the invocation of the sun god’s name, the expression on High Priest Stefan’s face shifted just a little, as he glanced skyward, toward Dal’s domain. But it was enough. His mouth worked. “Stay here then, heretic,” he snarled at last. “And may you rot within these walls, by the eternal mercy of the god whose name you disgrace.” With that particularly dramatic proclamation, the High Priest slammed out of the room. Slowly, Magdalisa lifted her eyes to Rigo, the flyboy. “Well,” she said awkwardly. “It seems you may have returned to the land of the living just in time for me to trap you in a cemetery for eternity. I’m dreadfully sorry.” Rigo blinked at her. “You just saved me.” “I don’t know about that,” said Magdalisa. “When you first smashed yourself to bits against the watchtower turret, certainly, I’ll take credit for that save. I’m not sure this one counts, though. Caging you in a graveyard might not be much better than letting you stand city trial.” “Anything is better than standing city trial for a Wanderer,” said Rigo, very wryly. He blinked slowly and shook his head, his grin full of uncertain wonder. “You don’t even know me. Why help me?” “Ah, well.” Magdalisa rolled her shoulders. “You can blame my tita for that one.”   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Tita Shulin—in her life before Dalaga—proudly serves the city government as a member of the Corrazon Witches’ Corps. She’s Magdalisa’s very favorite tita. Magdalisa, at this point, isn’t yet called Magdalisa; that part won’t happen until later, but the name she bears right now isn’t important. The child who will one day become Magdalisa laughs when Tita Shulin makes Mama’s cookware dance around the family kitchen, and exclaims over the silky uniform pinafore that Tita Shulin carefully airs out on the balcony every Sunday. “Hey, tita!” Magdalisa calls, dangling heels thumping together between the balcony bars. “Tita, when I’m big, I’m going to join the Witches’ Corps too, and wear pinafores just like yours!” Tita Shulin laughs, and nudges her sister, Magdalisa’s mama, crowing, “This kid’s going to be a handful.” “I know what brought me to Dalaga. My tita’s pinafore, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   “Wanderers aren’t technically heretics.” Magdalisa squinted up at the figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun. “Excuse me?” Rigo, the flyboy, dimpled down at her. He still walked gingerly, and bore a particular pallor that suggested his body hadn’t quite caught up with Magdalisa’s magic, but he left the guest bed from time to time to wander the cemetery grounds, picking up books from the tower library and offering Magdalisa assistance with minor chores around Dalaga. Now, he’d caught her in the garden, tending one of the jade plants. Apparently, he was in a mood to debate theology. Magdalisa patted at the dirt. “Anyone who refuses to recognize Dal the sun god is a heretic by definition.” “But there’s the thing,” mused Rigo in that habitually cheery, soft-spoken tone of his. “We do recognize Dal. We think he’s a rather fine fellow, in fact. Who wouldn’t?” Squatting beside Magdalisa, he caressed the little jade plant’s leaves, brow furrowed in thought. “The sun brings us all life. Where your High Priest and his ilk seem to take exception is that we also recognize Meera the earth mother, and Hiseo the god of sea and stars, and Shara the holy queen of the eastern skies.” Magdalisa said, carefully, “The traditional scriptures of Dal do not recognize other gods.” “True,” granted Rigo, dimples still out in full force. “Still, the sun god doesn’t strike me as a petty deity. I can’t imagine he begrudges those less fortunate, homeless gods a place in somebody else’s pantheon. We Wanderers can’t help but feel for the poor aimless creatures.” The corners of Magdalisa’s mouth, traitorous, twitched upward. “The High Priest and his followers would have you burned in the city square for speaking of Dal in such friendly terms.” “But does Dal not proclaim for the virtues of companionship and charity? He must feel for his fellow deities. Why, consider Shu of the western wind, for instance—such a blustery fellow, blowing this way and that, uncertain of his welcome anywhere. We cannot all be so graciously secure in our spot in the sky as the sun god.” Magdalisa glanced sidelong and the sky-sailor. “I’m not at all sure we’re still speaking of Dal.” Curiosity warred with polite wariness, and won. “How does a Wanderer come to fly paper phoenixes for the sky-sailors’ brigade, anyhow?” Rigo winked. “Well, to start, I’m quite good at flying.” “I wouldn’t have guessed, from the great bloody mess you left on the watchtower turret,” said Magdalisa dryly. “An injustice!” Rigo pulled a face at her. “It was hardly my fault the city sentries decided to have a go at me!” “They did think you were a spy.” Rigo sighed, still grinning, but his dark gaze went oddly somber. “All sky-sailors are spies in the eyes of the sentries. The city government—the sentries, the Witches’ Corps, even the High Priest, bless his soul—they all wish to protect the people of Corrazon. It’s a noble task, but one where they do not always succeed. Precious little protection exists for the poor, or for so-called misguided women”—here, he winked again at Magdalisa—“or indeed, for Wandering folk. We of the sky-sailors’ brigade merely wish to assist by filling the neglected gap. The sentries seem to find this an unwelcome interference. Can’t think why.” Magdalisa’s brow furrowed. “You think the city government dislikes the sky-sailors because they defend Corrazon’s outcasts?” “I didn’t say that at all!” cried Rigo, injured. “Perhaps the good servants of the government are merely jealous that we remember what they’ve forgotten. How frightfully embarrassing for them, poor fellows.” Helpless, startled laughter bubbled out of Magdalisa. “You know,” she admitted, “I wanted more than anything to join the Corrazon Witches’ Corps once. I thought I’d help the government protect people too, just like my tita.” Rigo’s smile was slow, genuine, and sun-bright. “You would have made an excellent addition, if my still-beating heart is any indication,” he pointed out. “Why didn’t you?” Magdalisa shrugged, eyes averted. “I grew up, and discovered that being magical is rather more trouble than it’s worth.” She touched the jade plant’s leaves. “Besides, the graveyard needed a new keeper.”   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Magdalisa’s mama spends most of Magdalisa’s childhood hoping Magdalisa will grow out of Witches’ Corps ambitions. When Magdalisa doesn’t, Mama blames Tita Shulin. “This is all your influence!” An angry voice floats up from the balcony late one night, when Magdalisa is supposed to be in bed. “How am I supposed to raise a child properly by myself, when you cavort about, telling lewd stories about women you’ve bedded in the Corps and teaching witchcraft behind my back?” “You don’t have to like it,” chides Tita Shulin, sounding tired. “But your kid has a real gift for magic—” “Gift!” “The Witches’ Corps should be so lucky to recruit such a talented magic-worker into Corrazon’s service. Be proud, sister.” “I would,” says Mama, in a low, tight voice. “I know how much the child wants to be a witch. But it’s not what boys are supposed to want.” Mama’s words thud inside Magdalisa’s chest like a misplaced heartbeat. The next morning, after prayers, Magdalisa finds Tita Shulin. “Tita,” she asks, “must I be a boy?” Tita Shulin sighs. “Your Mama, and most of the family, seem to think so.” A pause. “That does not mean you are a boy, or under any particular obligation to pretend you are.” She smiles. “Eh. Boy, girl, both, neither. You’re young. You don’t have to know everything about yourself right now, hmm?” “Did you always know you were a girl?” “Sure,” says Tita Shulin. “But I didn’t know I was the sort of girl who fancies other girls until I was past twenty, and in my second year with the Witches’ Corps.” She shrugs. “Your grandpapa—my papa, and your mama’s—didn’t like that so much either.” Tita Shulin offers a wink. “But that did not stop it from being true.” “I know what brought me to Dalaga. The truth, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   “That sky-sailor’s sweet on you,” said Nia, without so much as a word of preamble, or a blast of cold to announce her presence. Magdalisa shrieked into the nightgown she’d half-pulled over her head. “Dal’s sun! Don’t you ghosts understand a human need for privacy? I was indecent!” Nia rolled her luminous eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Little one, all women who reside at Dalaga, living or dead, have been indecent at some point. We’ve practically made indecency an art form.” “Still!” “Nia has a point,” added Luchia, following her sister. “Granted, she didn’t have one true love, as I did, but rather, a great collection of them—” “Luchia!” “– but the two of us do share an understanding when it comes to men who fancy women,” continued Luchia. “And the flyboy fancies you.” “Codswallop,” said Magdalisa, fire-cheeked. “You’ve all been dead too long to know the first thing about fancying anybody.” Luchia’s eyes narrowed. “Why, it’s true. You do like him back!” “Told you,” crowed Nia. “You owe me the next three rice wine offerings on your grave.” “You said two!” “I said three, little sister.” Magdalisa stomped out of her bedroom. Living with ghosts was all very well, but a human girl could only stomach so much gossip and bickering at her expense. Struck by a chord of determination, she went to find Rigo. The source of all ghostly speculation himself was propped up in the guest bed, reading an old volume of Corrazon history. Upon seeing Magdalisa, he smiled. “You’re still awake! I was the only night owl in my family. It’s nice to know someone else who doesn’t drop like a snoring rock as soon as Dal’s sun sets.” “Do you fancy me?” demanded Magdalisa. Rigo blinked over the book cover. “I’m feeling rather attacked by this line of questioning.” “It’s all right if you don’t,” Magdalisa added quickly. “I don’t expect—” “Yes.” “– any obligations from you. What?” “Yes,” Rigo repeated. He marked his place in the book, set it aside, and said, “I fancy you.” “Is it because I stuck the life back in your body after you essentially died?” demanded Magdalisa, whose heart had begun to rattle unpleasantly beneath her bones. Rigo’s mouth twitched. “That was a very nice point in your favor, but not the only reason.” Eyes averted, she flopped down on the foot of the guest bed. “Is it because I’m the only living woman at Dalaga?” “Shara of the Sky bear me witness, I’d like to think I have higher standards for women than a mere beating heart!” Rigo raked a hand through his curls, looking genuinely nervous for the first time since she’d brought him back from the dead. Then he took a deep breath, and said softly, “I like debating theology with you. I like how clever and funny you are. I like that you treat the graveyard plants so tenderly. I like how your hair curls at the ends when it rains, and how your skin goes dark with Dal’s summer sun. I like—” Magdalisa leaned over and kissed him.   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Magdalisa’s sixteen. She’s been going with Tomo, the butcher’s boy, for all of three months, when they get into a tremendous row right after Wednesday’s midday prayer service. “My papa says the magic inside you is a Wanderers’ curse against Dal,” claims Tomo, who at seventeen, at least has the self-awareness to look shame-faced. Magdalisa, though, is having none of it. “What complete codswallop,” she snaps, hands on her hips. Embarrassed indignation burns like a furnace inside her belly, heating her cheeks. “I have never spoken to a Wanderer in my entire life!” Tomo shakes his head, clearly miserable. “I know, but it won’t make a difference to Papa. He says I’m not to see you anymore, and that I’m to find a proper, beautiful woman who will give him proper grandchildren.” The furnace inside Magdalisa might as well be a full-fledged bonfire. “Well!” she exclaims. “My mama says your papa is a miserable pig, and going with you is beneath our family’s dignity, anyhow. You’re just jealous that I have sufficient magical talent to sit the Witches’ Corps exams, while you must spend all your days in your miserable papa’s butcher shop. I’m well rid of you, Tomo!” She starts to stalk off, but can’t quite resist shouting over her shoulder, “And another thing! I am a beautiful woman, so good luck finding another foolish enough to have you!” Magdalisa waits until she’s safely home, ensconced on Tita Shulin’s balcony, before she finally allows the tears to flow, ugly and unchecked. A few minutes later, Tita Shulin herself stomps out to scold Magdalisa for skipping the post-prayer luncheon, but stops short at the blotchy, sorry sight of Magdalisa’s face. “Dal’s sun above, kid. What on earth is the matter?” Magdalisa opens her mouth to say, “Nothing.” Instead, the whole mortifying story blubbers out: about how much she liked Tomo, who liked her back, but not enough, in the end. How Tomo’s papa wanted Tomo to marry a normal, pretty girl who could produce normal, pretty children, instead of some shrewish witch-girl who’d spent practically her entire childhood being mistaken for a boy. “Ah, kid,” says Tita Shulin, very quietly, when Magdalisa’s done. “That’s a rough break.” Magdalisa hiccups. “Are you mad at me?” “Nah.” The old witch’s arm slings rough and tight around the young witch’s shoulders, as Magdalisa’s tears silently soak Tita Shulin’s pinafore collar. “Everyone misses a prayer luncheon or two. You got nothing to be ashamed of, you hear? Nothing at all.” “I know what brought me to Dalaga. My own silly, broken heart, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.”   Rigo’s mouth, soft and full-lipped, tasted like fruit from the garden. His hands, rings cool on her skin, cradled the back of her skull like it was something precious, thumbs rubbing gentle circles just under her jawline. Magdalisa broke the kiss with some reluctance, her own fingers still curled in his hair, memories a lump in her throat. She didn’t owe the flyboy anything, not truly, but the lump needed to be spoken, for her own sake. She groaned, forehead thudding against his chest. “Rigo, listen, before we go any further. You might not—I have too much magic in me. People expected me to...” Rigo’s heart thrummed patiently against Magdalisa’s forehead. She didn’t dare look up, unable to stomach the thought of those expectant, liquid dark eyes. How to pull this off gracefully? Magdalisa leaned back, gaze fixed on the ceiling, and blurted out, “I think you’re assuming that I have all the particular physical bits people usually expect of women, and that I was born into this world knowing I was a woman, but I don’t, and I wasn’t, all right?” Oh no, she thought, mortified, that wasn’t graceful at all. Rigo blinked a few times, pupils still blown, inky brows furrowing. Almost absently, he traced a thumb over her cheekbone. “All right.” “All right?” she echoed, a little incredulous. He shrugged, looking amused. “If I had anything against unusually magical women, I probably shouldn’t have confessed my affection after your magic literally knit my soul back to my body.” “And the rest?” “Magdalisa,” said Rigo, “we’re currently necking in a cemetery dedicated to women who broke with Corrazon expectations. Your particular womanhood, however you came to it, clearly follows in the footsteps of a rich tradition.” “Oh,” said Magdalisa, flooded by a curious, insistent warmth, and reached for him. “Well,” she managed, as his mouth found her ear, “I suppose we’d best get back to that then.” No further interruptions occurred.   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” When the Witches’ Corps send Magdalisa a politely-worded rejection letter—she still wants them, but they don’t want her—Magdalisa’s not the one who breaks. It’s Mama. “I knew it,” Mama moans, over and over again, “I knew this encouragement of your magic would come to no good end. The Witches’ Corps was the only hope for a child like you, and now the Witches’ Corps have turned their backs on us too. What place is left for you now, hmm? What are we to do with you?” Magdalisa watches this all in silence, knowing better than to voice the words resting sharp on her tongue’s edge: The Witches’ Corps turned their backs on me, not you. Stop twisting my pain into your own, Mama. “We’ll fix this,” Mama decides at last. Her wet eyes are hard and narrow. “I know a man who can help. He’ll sort this all out, and our lives will be our own again.” Magdalisa, staring at the floor, wonders what Tita Shulin would say to Mama. The thought is a foolish indulgence. A bad heart killed Magdalisa’s tita more than a year ago. What worth can be found in a dead woman’s imaginary words? “I know what brought me to Dalaga. One unfortunate letter, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.   The Festival of Dal’s Sunrise would fall on a Friday. It was, Magdalisa realized, with an odd twist of her gut, the perfect day to plan an escape for Rigo. The High Priest and his most trusted men would be occupied all day at the city square with holy festivities. No one would bother to monitor arrivals and departures from Dalaga. “I agree,” said Tita Shulin, when Magdalisa told her this, one hot day in the graveyard gardens, “but I don’t see why you can’t go with him.” “Who, Rigo?” Magdalisa turned her face toward the garden wall. “Don’t be ridiculous, tita, I’m the graveyard keeper.” “Yes, and so you’ve been for years now. You’re too young to be stuck in a cemetery forever. You wanted to protect Corrazon’s living people, once. That young flyboy of yours, he shares the same dream. Why not make something of it together?” “In the sky-sailors’ brigade?” Magdalisa asked, incredulous. “What place could they have for a graveyard keeper, a forgotten little witch-girl that no one—” “Stop that this instant,” said Tita Shulin, suddenly ironlike. “I didn’t indulge that kind of talk from you when you were sixteen, and I certainly won’t indulge it now that you’re grown. You live with the dead, but you are not one of us. You were always going to have to move on, one day.” “We can argue about my career choices later,” snapped Magdalisa, stomping from the garden. “Right now, I’m going to find Rigo, and share my plan.” “He’s in love, you know.” Magdalisa blinked rapidly. “I know, tita. So am I. That’s why I have to set him free.” She found Rigo in the library, and stared at the ceiling the whole time she recited her plan. She’d considered everything: the little-known catacomb tunnels beneath the cemetery proper, the map to point the way, the back-door entrance hatch just outside the city gate. “Will the other sky-sailors find you?” she asked urgently, when she finished. “They need to be able to find you.” “Yes,” said Rigo, “and I need to find them. I’d always planned to escape, eventually, but I thought...” In the corner of her eye, hurt skittered across his features for a moment, before smoothing into habitual cheer. “I thought perhaps you’d come too. That’s all.” Magdalisa closed her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m still the graveyard keeper. I’m sorry.” She swallowed. “Please don’t fight with me about this. I—it may be your only chance, you understand?” The silence between them felt longer and heavier than any Magdalisa had ever borne. “I do,” said Rigo at last, soft-voiced. “Thank you. For everything.” Magdalisa heard his footsteps depart the library, but didn’t turn to watch. She didn’t seek him out for a final goodbye, either, when the fateful night fell. To what end? She’d given him his map to freedom. It wouldn’t do, to make salvation harder on either of them than it had to be.   “Remember what brought you to Dalaga.” Mama’s cure-all man works off the books, but he guarantees he can wrest unwanted magic from any human vessel, for the right price. What happens to Magdalisa in his secret shop, in the back alley, isn’t worth remembering. There’s darkness, and pain, and at the end of it all, Magdalisa’s magic, sure enough, bleeding out on to the floor, along with the rest of her. Magic, after all, is tied to the soul. Mama weeps over her. “I’m sorry, girl. Mama’s so, so sorry.” Magdalisa’s final, furious thought is that being sorry never fixed anything. Then darkness eats her world. “I know what brought me to Dalaga, but you have no right to it. You have no right at all.”   Luchia was the one who brought word of the ambush. “It was a trap!” she cried. The ghost burst into Magdalisa’s bedroom in a flurry of cold that sank into Magdalisa’s very bones. “A few of the High Priest’s men, they thought Rigo would take advantage of the festival day to run, so they waited for him at the gate.” “They’re going to burn him in the city square.” Nia’s voice was quieter than her sister’s. “I’m so sorry, little one.” Magdalisa sat there in the winter-deep chill of her bedroom, absorbing the ghosts’ words. “Don’t be,” she said at last. Despite the chill, she felt hot beneath the skin. “Magdalisa!” Tita Shulin appeared then, the only ghost whose face wasn’t a picture of distress. Her fingers found Magdalisa’s, and squeezed tight, just once. Then the touch was gone. “Go on then, kid,” she said. “You know what to do. You’ve always known.” Magdalisa stood. Her nails bit into her palms, as her heart thrummed with some savage feeling she couldn’t name. It shoved her to her feet, carrying her out the bedroom and up the stairs, to the watchtower’s highest turret, where the remains of Rigo’s paper phoenix still lay spattered with his bloodstains. Standing before the phoenix’s blank-eyed stare, Magdalisa glared up at Dal’s setting red sun. “I am well and truly sick of my magic being a burden,” she declared. “Witness, for once in my life, my magic is going to work for me.” Power jumped inside Magdalisa’s veins. Beneath her hands, the paper phoenix rustled and groaned, unfurling its great red wings. Its painted eyes widened, then narrowed at Magdalisa, whose magic curled plumes around them both. With painstaking care, Magdalisa curved her body along the phoenix’s spine, burying her face in the paper feathers. “Help me,” she whispered, fists full of feathers and furious magic. “Help us both.” The phoenix emitted a great, shrieking war cry. Then, Magdalisa astride its back, launched into the sky. Clinging to the bird with her knees, Magdalisa scanned the ground until she smelled smoke. “There,” she whispered. She felt the paper phoenix hesitate beneath her. She stroked its bright-painted plumage, power sparking between them. “Don’t worry. You won’t burn. Not under my watch.” The phoenix dove. The pyre wasn’t lit yet, but the torches were ready. A crowd had gathered. And someone was tying a familiar, dark-headed figure to the center. Not under my watch, thought Magdalisa, and dove again. She barely had time to register the shock on Rigo’s bloodless face, before she’d kicked aside his guard, and pulled the sky-sailor astride his own phoenix. “Miss me?” she shouted, over the crowd’s roar of surprise. “You have no idea,” he shouted back, and then his arms were wrapped tight around her ribs, as the three of them—the flyboy, the graveyard girl, and the paper phoenix—hurtled away into the star-streaked sky. “Goodness,” he said, some time later. His arms were still a vise around her bones. It occurred to Magdalisa, as they zigzagged through the air, that his reasons were probably practical, as well as affectionate. “Perhaps you’d best let me steer.” “Just don’t crash us into the watchtower again. Trouble enough saving your life the first time around.” Rigo laughed, nose buried against her neck. “Don’t worry. I can land us there nice and easy, now that everyone below is too shocked to shoot in the dark.” “No,” said Magdalisa. “We’re not going back to Dalaga.” His hands, subtly reining the phoenix around by its feathers, went briefly still. “Are you sure?” “Yes.” Magdalisa smiled against the wind, hot-eyed, but certain as the magic pulsing warm and alive beneath her bones. “I am.” “You’ll have to become a better sky-sailor. For all our sakes, really.” Without turning around, Magdalisa swatted at his thigh. “I think I’ll manage.” Rigo went quiet. When he spoke again, his tone was thoughtful. “You know, Wanderers never had permanent physical homes. I think that’s why we share a tradition of telling the stories of what brought us to the places we’ve lived. It’s a way to remember homes that mattered. Homes we carry in our hearts, even when we wander. Will you tell me what brought you to Dalaga?" Rigo’s arms around her were warm. Resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, Magdalisa told him.   After the end of everything, Magdalisa wakes up. At first, she’s certain she’s dead. For one thing, her entire body aches. For another, Tita Shulin, a year and a half past her funeral date, is staring down into Magdalisa’s eyes. Magdalisa’s lying in a bed she doesn’t recognize. Barren stone walls surround what look to be a modest, if tidy, room. “If this is the land of Dal’s glorious afterlife,” she croaks, “the High Priest is in for a surprise.” “I’m afraid not,” her tita says, sounding amused. “We’re merely at Dalaga Cemetery. I don’t blame you for not recognizing the place. The last time you came to the cemetery was for my funeral.” Magdalisa blinks, wiggling her toes. Something strange sparks between them. “My magic,” she murmurs, heart thudding. “It’s back.” “Of course it’s back,” says Tita Shulin, nonplussed. “You silly girl. Did you really think the ghosts of Dalaga Cemetery would restore your soul to your body, and neglect something so important?” Magdalisa glances up at her tita, alarmed. “Then I—” “You are very much alive, yes, I saw to that.” “Are you—” “Still dead, rather.” Tita Shulin shrugs, as if this matters very little. “Eh. It’s not so bad, really. Being a ghost quite suits me.” Unbidden, Magdalisa’s eyes fill. “I missed you. After you died, Mama was never the same.” “Ah, kid,” sighs Tita Shulin. An old sorrow colors her features. “Your grandpapa was a hard, small-minded man, and your mama always had more trouble ignoring his harshness than I did. She wanted so much to please him, but she should not have taken that out on you. You’re her child, magical or not.” “Magic’s what killed me in the first place!” “No, it is not,” says Tita Shulin. “What tried to kill you—and failed, I might add—is a world that didn’t know how to handle magic properly. The world is often foolish in that way, and cruel. But death isn’t ready for you, yet. Your magic still has work to do. I could tell, all the way here in Dalaga, as soon as I sensed my Magdalisa’s soul struggling to stay tethered to her body.” Tita Shulin taps her heart. “I’m a witch too, remember? Magic always knows. A tita’s heart always knows. So the ghosts of Dalaga did what had to be done.” Magdalisa swallows the lump in her throat. “But if I’m not dead, what happens now?” Her tita shrugs. “Eh. The cemetery’s been needing a new graveyard keeper for a while now. The poor gardens are terribly withered. You’ve always been quite good at restoring life, and protecting it. You take after me that way. Why not make some use of those talents, for the moment?” “All right,” says Magdalisa. “All right, I will. For the moment.” She takes her tita’s hand, and follows her to the gardens, where all the other misguided, defiant women of Corrazon wait, their souls eternal, the life growing green and bright around them beneath Dal’s sun. “I know what brought me to Dalaga. Somebody loved me. Nothing more, nothing less.”   END “Graveyard Girls on Paper Phoenix Wings" is copyright Andrea Tang 2018. This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library. You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, or by leaving reviews on iTunes. Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a selection of three short reprints.

Keeping in mind that Halloween is upon us, Valerie, Angela and Tatiana take the opportunity to first rant about the horrors of having too many different accents in a historical drama (0:33) on this week's Pop A La Carte podcast. Which naturally leads to the even worse terror of white actors playing latinx roles on Supergirl (13:54). But since not everything is awful all the time, we also gush once more about The Good Place (24:30) and the casting for Doctor Who's latest companions (40:33). Valerie then gives a mini review of BBC's Gunpowder (46:59) Finally, we celebrate Halloween early by checking out AMC's streaming service Shudder and visiting WB's Horror Made Here Tour (51:50).

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