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Twisted Tails VIII
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ISBN-10: 1-77115-186-2
Genre: Fantasy/SF/Paranormal
eBook Length: 171 Pages
Published: July 2014

From inside the flap

"ParaAbnormal? Come on, you made that one up, right? What's that supposed to mean?"

Well, it means you're about to read stories featuring paranormal beings and things that You know, things that go bump in the night because they keep tripping over stuff. You are going to meet that are just a little over the line. Just beyond the unreal side of the sanity line. Try to picture in your mind what it would be like being a ghost. That's simple enough, right? Now, suppose you are a ghost that can't walk through things like walls or anything else solid. Any normal ghost can cross the street without looking both ways because that big truck approaching will just go right through it. No harm done. Now, suppose our ghost can't walk through walls and if that monster truck hits it, then it's toast. No ghost, just ethereal matter spread as a thin film on the pavement. A dead ghost. It can't get into a house unless someone opens a door or a window. It can, through expending a lot of energy, open a door for itself but afterward it is visible for awhile-until it has rested and its energy returns. That, my friend, is an abnormal ghost. A ParaAbnormal critter.

With an imagination like yours, I'm sure you can see where this is leading. Think up any paranormal critter, then give it a debility and you have an abnormal paranormal whatsit. Got the picture? Our abnormal authors, all of them certifiable, have dreamed up a batch of the weirdest critters that ever graced a page and they've done it beautifully. I must advise you, though, the Twisted Tails series is based upon rug tugging endings that are designed to give you a jolt of surprise. Sometimes a bit subtle. Most of the time, powerful, neck snapping sudden. I, and all the authors, hope you have a good time while you're here. If you haven't read others in the Twisted Tails series, please do. I know you'll be happy you did. Also, it is true that without this gang of warped authors, there would be no Twisted Tails. It is equally true that, without you, there would also be no Twisted Tails. Thank you for picking us up.

Twisted Tails VIII (Excerpt)


1. ROSS HOWARD, PSYCHICby Biff Mitchell



4. WITCHES OF SUNSET by John Klawitter

5. DREAM VACATION by Joe Powers

6. OUR TOWN by Ron Leming


8. MAKING DO WITH WHAT YOU HAVE by J. Richard Jacobs

9. U DIE, THEREFORE I AM by Steve Zuckerman

10. STICK TO THE SCRIPT by Joe Powers

11. THE LOOSE MUSE SWAP MEET by John Klawitter

12. EXOTIC FOOD by J. Richard Jacobs

1. Ross Howard, Psychic


Biff Mitchell

How would you respond if you found out that someone could read your mind? You know, like know your innermost thoughts. Know what you were going to say before it was said. Know when you were lying or telling the truth. How would you feel about that? Ross Howard is about to learn a lot about that.

Ross Howard was a psychic. A real-life, bonafide, honest-to-goodness psychic. And he'd been a psychic for, oh, let's see now...six hours. Ever since he'd been banged on the head by a hammer that morning on his way to work. He wasn't sure how that had happened; probably just a random head banging but, when it was over, Ross was a psychic.

He could read minds. Predict the future. Lift heavy objects through the power of thought. He hadn't tried the last one yet, but he could predict the future and he'd predicted that he would soon be lifting heavy objects just by thinking it.

In the meantime, he was having one hell of a time reading peoples' minds, delving into their most inner secrets, peeking into the stuff of their lives, prying away the illusory boards shuttering the windows into their pasts.

Only problem was...people kept lying to him. In their thoughts. And he had ample proof of this. For instance, he read the thoughts of a woman in the coffee shop line-up just a few hours ago. She was thinking about buying a regular coffee with lite cream but, when she opened her mouth to order, she said, "I'll have a double caramel latte."


And he could have sworn he'd seen the hint of a malicious smile as she placed her order.

An hour before that, a man driving an SUV in front of Ross was thinking about turning right but almost as soon as Ross read the man's thoughts he suddenly turned left without any warning and cut across traffic at a busy intersection, almost crashing into a Ford pickup, a convertible Punch Buggy and a woman on a mountain bike.

Crazy liar.

And had Ross seen the man laughing into his rear view mirror?

So he figured he'd try a little reverse psychology. A woman sitting at a restaurant counter bounced her choice between the lemon meringue and apple pie before deciding on the lemon meringue. But Ross knew she was lying and knew that she would pick the apple. When the waitress came over to her, she said, "Could I have a slice of that lemon meringue pie, please."

These people couldn't even tell the truth when they were lying. And again, he could have sworn he'd seen a nasty grin on the woman's face as she ordered her lemon meringue pie.

It was mid-afternoon in suburbia and the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, but there was just the slightest of breezes to keep everything warm but comfortable. It was a beautiful day to be a psychic...if he could just figure a way to get people to think the truth. The woman at the restaurant kept with her decision to the lemon meringue pie, but she'd led him to believe that she would get the apple pie by deciding not to get the apple pie.

Had she done that deliberately, just to mess with his head? Or...were mysterious forces at work? With the gift of his new powers, maybe he'd opened some sort of portal into states of being beyond the ordinary. Had he disturbed things that were better left alone? He thought about this for a few minutes and decided it was time to lift heavy objects with his mind.

He focused on a garbage truck parked by the side of the road about thirty feet away. He thought deeply. Very deeply. He visualized the truck lifting gently upwards from the pavement. He closed his eyes and imagined all weight and substance drifting out of the truck so that it would rise, rise, rise from the pavement. He opened his eyes and the truck was still grounded. So he commanded out loud that the truck rise. He lifted his hands, palms upwards, as though he were lifting the truck with his arms, and said, "I command you to rise! I command you to rise!" The truck stubbornly stayed where it was.

Ross decided that he'd probably seen a little further into the future than he'd guessed when he predicted he could lift heavy objects with his mind.

Back to mind reading.

He saw the mini mall a few blocks ahead with the bright blue sign announcing his favorite cyberbar, The Lively Laptop Cyberbar and Grill. Beer and a laptop. That's what he needed. He passed a yard surrounded by a metal fence and looked into the future, predicting that a dog would bark at him. As the walked by the fence, sure enough, a vicious Dachshund barked indolently at him as it lay on its side in the cool grass. His ability to look into the future was starting to develop.

He walked through the tinted glass doors of The Lively Laptop Cyberbar and Grill into a large LED lighted room with a bar running the length of one wall, booths attached to the other wall, and coffee tables surrounded by easy chairs filling the floors. The glow of monitor screens lit the faces of about a dozen people hunched fervently over laptops. No one was talking. He'd never paid much attention to the other customers in the past, but today he would be paying much attention.

Time to read some minds and find out who was downloading porno. He bought a Corona from a young woman wearing thick glasses who dragged herself reluctantly from her laptop behind the bar. He read her mind. She was irritated with him. She frowned when she passed the beer over the counter to him. Ah, he thought, someone's finally thinking the truth. He paid for his beer and walked slowly, so as not to attract attention, to one of the tables against the wall. He opened a dated laptop sitting in the center of the table and pressed the ON button. While the laptop booted up, he looked around the room. Who's mind would he read?

His eyes settled on a middle aged man in a two piece suit with his tie and shirt collar loosened around his neck. He focused on the man's head, looking deep into his brain, opening his own mind to whatever thoughts would flow from the man's cranium. Almost immediately, he knew the man's name-Bob. Bob something. He knew the man was writing an email to a business associate. He knew that man was writing, "I'm sure Hanson will go along with the plan, but we'll have to watch Mercer carefully."