With the arrival of March our curators have found eleven excellent recommendations for you to digest. If these pieces grab you, give their authors a like, a restack and maybe a follow. Enjoy.

Kelly Xan, The Author Wars

March has arrived! Here is a fun mix of spooky, gothic, and downright fantastic stories as you dive into the month.

• “Annamarie” by Hylia Corvidae, On Sharp Teeth & Nightmares. “I died last week. Not everyone was all that sad about it.” Annamarie may have left her body, but she has not left the living’s plane, and she can’t quite figure out why that is. To aid her in her state of limbo, Annamarie turns to the only person she can trust: her older sister, Pammy. A terrifying mystery unfolds in this gothic folk tale. Hylia does an absolutely spectacular job setting the sinister atmosphere, building tension that leaves readers clutching their stomachs, sitting on the edge of their seats. Annamarie is a tremendous narrator, taking readers on the path with her as she navigates the murky series of events that got her to where she is. You will be inches from your screen by the time you finish this short, and likely will have a few tears in your eyes by the end. This story contains themes of abuse and folk-themed horror, so read with care. But if you are looking for an incredible story of terror, tragedy, and the bond between sisters, this is the story for you.

• “Lucretia and Saxon” by Honeygloom. “We’ll be beastly, Saxon, like we never could have been alive.” Lucretia and Saxon are two phantoms who rarely leave their crypt, and are venturing out for an evening of ghoulish fun. But is this truly an innocent little scare they are seeking, or something far more sinister? Honeygloom paints a perfectly macabre night in a cemetery with two lively (albeit dead) characters who pull you in instantly. You get breadcrumbs that give you a sense of their history, just enough to lead you deeper into the narrative. You don’t know if you trust them, but you know you want to follow them. This is a terrific gothic with a dark atmosphere that builds and builds until you reach the suckerpunch of an ending. It’s one of those creepy little stories that delights readers to death! I felt like I was right back in autumn and Halloween was just around the corner. This story contains themes of violence, so read with care. But if you are looking for an eerie thrill, I highly recommend this.

• “The Road Through Midnight: Chapter 1” in The Road Through Midnight by Katharine Kapodistria, Notes From The Edge. “In the north of the world, there is a village that doesn’t appear on any map. At Midwinter, when the veil is at its thinnest, you may see a sign pointing to the village—but only if the village wants you to see it. And, tonight, the village does want you to see it.” One moment you’re driving down a road, and the next, you hear gremlins in your engine before your car dies completely. In an instant, you are at the mercy of the village, and all of the terrifically entertaining creatures, characters and deities that reside there. An epic celebration of folklore, an immersive story that will call you to return to it repeatedly. This mini-serial has become one of my favourites to go back to, the perfect amount of mystery, whimsy, scary, and deeply thought-provoking. If you are looking for a tale that will remain on your heart after reading, I cannot recommend this enough.

Qibra

This month we begin with three stories about bodies that don’t follow normal rules. Each one approaches the impossible from a different angle, but all ask the same question: What happens when your body becomes the site of something extraordinary? These writers explore that question with depth, imagination and exceptional storytelling.

• “Run with the Moon” by Jean McKinney, Black Moon Journal. I found this story in the Valentine’s café, a wonderful community collaboration hosted by Molly Moonlight last month. Adam is a war veteran living alone in an Airstream in the desert. The war gave him strange gifts he doesn’t understand, but they come with voices that never stop and panic that keeps him isolated. Velocity is a shapeshifter who runs with the coyote pack at night, then shows up on his porch at dawn. What got me was how tender this is. Adam can’t handle crowds and Velocity needs the wild. So she comes to him every time without asking him to be anything other than what he is. This is a beautifully written story. The magic is understated and the emotional core is about two damaged people choosing accommodation over fixing each other. There is a moment where the pack alpha checks Adam out, and Adam’s response landed perfectly. It’s gentle and hopeful. If you want magical realism that trusts your intelligence and a love story about meeting someone where they are, then this is worth your time.

• “Forever Man” by Lou Mindar, Lou Mindar Writes. What if you could live for a very long time…something that would seem like forever to others? What if your body refused to stay dead? This is Benjamin’s story. Born in 1787, dead the same night and brought back by a reluctant old medicine man using herbs, ash, and a turtle mark that glows under the full moon. This is literary historical fiction about immortality as burden, not power or superhero fantasy. What grabbed me is the emotional complexity, the mother’s desperation, the father’s struggle to protect a boy whose existence defies the rules of their world, and a child trying to understand why his body won’t stay broken. The Iroquois mythology is woven in without over-explanation. The prose is expansive and atmospheric with rich sensory detail and immersive historical setting. The author is releasing 50 chapters total with 12 published so far. This is an intimate exploration of what it costs to survive when survival itself marks you as different. So grab your favorite beverage and settle in. Forever Man is ambitious serialized historical fiction worth following.

• “In my Heart Forever More,” by Gregory Blair, Gregory Blair-Scribbling Entertainment. “She’s in my heart forever more. A cliché twisted into my own, palpable horror…” A man ruins the best relationship he’s ever had with thoughtless acts, untempered words you know the usual pattern. She leaves him a note damning him to feel her pain, her way. He wanted her in his heart forever…well he got his wish. This is an emotionally devastating piece where Gregory Blair takes a romantic cliché and twists it into body horror, literalizing what we say without thinking. The confession is self-aware. The turn from realistic grief to supernatural curse is seamless. It’s dark, honest, and unforgettable.So if you’re drawn to compact stories that hit like poetry and leave a bruise, this is one to read slowly, then maybe again.

Tina Crossgrove, Existential Dread and Other Hobbies

March is a weird month. It’s neither warm enough to wear short sleeves yet but neither is it cold enough to wear a thick jacket anymore. If you live in the North, it’s barely the beginning of Mud Season so you’re just as likely to slip and break your peach on slick mud as you are the slippery ice. The world is still dark and gray, and there’s the ever-lingering threat of just one more late snow storm, but a few brave buds will break through the wet piles of the white stuff only to get walloped with a cold snap a day later. It’s a weird in between time. This week I’ve chosen three stories that reflect the capricious nature of my headspace in this in-betweenness (each paired with a song and a drink to help set the mood).

• “Skin Deep” by Shay Morgendorfer, The Cosmically Disorganized and Subtly Macabre. I have ink. I love my ink. Getting ink is a deeply personal ritual for a lot of people. But what happens when your tattoos stop being decoration and start giving you urgent warnings—twitching, glowing, and prickling with a will of their own—pulling you toward danger you can’t ignore? Lucas finds out the hard way, as his living ink forces him into the night, away from a watching silhouette and toward something far worse lurking in the dark.Pair this story with “Red Right Hand” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and the familiar yet slightly wrong (in the best ways) taste of a Black Manhattan.

• Encore by DJ Stapleton. Stapleton’s serial Encore scratches what is an eternal itch for me as the Victorian Era’s obsession with the occult is a favorite backdrop for stories of mystery and the macabre. In 1890 London, Theodore Thurston is a showman—a mentalist who doesn’t believe in spirits but claims he can reach the other side. Vivienne Ashwood, once a celebrated actress, has been trapped as a restless spirit for ninety-seven years, and she refuses to stay invisible. When their paths collide one night at the theater, a single handhold changes both their worlds forever. The series is three chapters deep; pour yourself an absinthe with a twist of lemon, spin Siouxsie and the Banshee’s “Spellbound” on the record player and enjoy!

• “Spooklight on the Devil’s Elbow” by Matthew P. Ankney, Ozarklore. As someone who hails from the very edges of Appalachia, I have a deep and abiding love for the lore found in the heart of the region. Ankney’s stories draw from the history and the legends of Appalachia proper, weaving its haunted landscapes, folk magic, and shadowed history into a tapestry of terror and wonder. In this story, moonshiner Gary’s night in the foggy Ozarks becomes a nightmare of raven-headed monsters, ghostly Confederate soldiers, and a cursed Artifact that could change everything. Told in chilling, interconnected parts, each encounter escalates the suspense, pushing him to the edge of life, death, and the supernatural, leaving shattered spirits and lingering dread in his wake. I recommend listening to “Wayfaring Stranger”—specifically the Hayde Bluegrass Orchestra version—and sipping on a Whitelightening Fire Cider (a mix of Moonshine, spiced apple cider, fresh ginger, and a pinch of cayenne).

Tonja K. Johnson

This week all I wanted was to be terrified. When the world feels like it’s churning out of control, I turn to horror. It’s safe. I can choose to flip to the page or turn off the television. I can remind myself that it’s not real and that actually be the truth. However, unlike in a novel, the very real, everyday horrors around us aren’t so easily banished. We have to work to extinguish the horrors we’ve allowed to fester, spread roots and grow teeth. It’s hard work, but it’s work that can be done—together. “Alone I can’t do anything,” said seven billion people.

• “Chapter 1: The Old Man” in The Inner Den: He Who Preys Edition by Sylvester Barzey, The Den. A dank cell prison isn’t any place for the living, so when Buford takes matters into his own hands it has very bloody consequences. He Who Prays has all the dark religious horror of Sinners and the seeds of a very emotionally tense family drama. This first chapter contained everything I was looking for—creepy and rooted in history with an atmosphere so thick I felt it sliding against my skin. Growing up in a Black family with a mother addicted to the gospel, I immediately understood the weight of religion in this story. And how some folks can contort into new people entirely chasing the word. Buford suffers not only because he is imprisoned but because religion has sunk its claws into him, and now his perception of reality is skewed because of it. Barzey does a phenomenal job balancing the narrative and exposition, so by the end of the first chapter I am ready to head to the next one.

Gary Mucklow

I was looking for a story with a grip that would not let go. This piece did exactly that.

• “Dweller” by Cedar Jones, Late Night Fiction with Cedar Jones. This piece is a relentless descent into a modern form of isolation. It is a story about a predator who has replaced the physical world with a digital one. Hunger is described as a mere annoyance. Empathy has been cauterised by a screen. The prose is heavy with a sense of rot. This creates a setting that feels as though it is actively digesting the protagonist. The lack of sentimentality stands out as a bold choice. The author does not ask for pity for this hunched troglodyte. The reader is instead forced to look at the glass phantoms of a life completely unmoored from reality. It is a grim and atmospheric look at how technology can facilitate total moral erosion.