Free Fiction: “Infernal Attractors” by Cody Goodfellow

“Turn it on,” she said.

When he didn’t move, she cocked the gun. Even so, Marc hesitated, his hand over the knife switch at the heart of the sprawling machine.

“It’s not safe,” he said, trying not to whine.

“I know,” she replied. The raw silk in her weary voice turning to rusted steel. “That’s why I need it.” She laid down the gun, certain of his obedience, and began to unbutton her long black dress. It slithered off her angular, hungry curves to pool round her feet. Her stockings were the color of smoke. She wore nothing else. The sheen of her perspiration made her pale body glimmer in the moonlight. Her long burgundy bangs hid her eyes. “Turn it on, and open it up all the way.”

He had built it for her, with the weird old components she always seemed to find just when they were needed, and the yellowing circuit diagrams stamped PROJECT BIFROST: ABOVE TOP SECRET. Whenever he asked her about it, she had fucked him until he forgot his questions. But this morning, he had done some digging and found out just enough about what he had built that he tried to destroy it.

Thus, the gun.

She’d told him some of it, when she had to. She didn’t have to spell it out. She had to be an idiot or crazy, not to realize how far out of his league she was. When they’d met on a makers’ message board thread about teledildonics and orgone generators, he’d played along with what he was sure was a joke. Something that’ll make Sex and Drugs obsolete, was all she had to say. Meeting her in person was a shock. Her picture didn’t begin to do her justice.

Like most girls who dyed their hair a new color every week and covered themselves in tattoos, there was damage behind her intriguing façade, desperation and despair between the whirlwind binges of thrill seeking. She warned him she was “a bit of a nymphomaniac,” and there was a sleepy confession that she’d been to rehab, been committed, experimented on. He didn’t care about her past, any more than he cared if she really loved him, or what the hell a Tillinghast resonator was, until it was too late.

Want to read the rest? Download the free PDF here!


Free Fiction: “Descent of the Wayward Sister” by Gabrielle Harbowy

It was an unfortunate and shameful predicament that led me to seek lodging with my estranged older brother. We were strangers raised by the same parents with more than a decade between us, like serial lodgers with only a house and a pair of kindly if distant landlords in common. I knew nothing of his secrets, nor he of mine.

His was a stately row house on a venerated downtown block. It was the sort of street along which young businessmen walk with ambitious longing, and ladies make a show of disembarking from their carriages so that other ladies might see them welcomed inside. I came to his doorstep in the evening, in the rain, with the glow of the streetlight forming a halo behind my bedraggled, dripping hair. My brother was a stern-looking man, but I was accustomed to charming my way into the hearts of stern-looking men. The words spilled past my lips: I confessed to him that a grave misunderstanding with a young gentleman had ruined my station, and that I had nowhere else to go. Upon my repeated apologies, sobbed between solemn assertions that I would not inconvenience him and only needed a safe place for my reputation to convalesce in privacy, he took me in with a nod and a long-suffering sigh.

At once, he arranged for me the sorts of diversions appropriate for a lady: music lessons, and embroidery, and dancing. It was an unexpected kindness, perhaps evidence of how deeply he had been moved my plea. Or perhaps to keep me occupied while he was away all day, toiling at whatever labor provided him the financial resources for such a well-situated home. He did not discuss his work with me, and I did not ask. When he returned home in the evening, we dined in formal silence at opposite ends of a long, impersonal table. After coffee, he received callers and retreated to his study, leaving me once again on my own.

I rarely saw him. Still, hints of his secrets soon began to make themselves apparent. The servants – for he had several – were not at sufficient ease with me to treat me as one of their number, as I would have preferred. However, they were unaccustomed to another presence pacing the halls by day, and forgot to guard their tongues. They whispered about him, about the house, about the visitors, about the need to keep a vigilant eye on me to prevent me from wandering where I shouldn’t. There were doors, I learned, that were perpetually locked. To these rooms the house servants were forbidden entry, and strict punishment might befall any well-meaning girl who rearranged his books, or so much as shifted his papers.

A locked door, however, had never been a match for my curiosity. Indeed, I had made my livelihood upon the riches and secrets they shielded. Willpower and gratitude held me back for a full two days, but on my third day in residence I claimed headache in the middle of my piano lesson and sent the tutor away. It was, I thought, something a spoiled lady might often do, and indeed the nice gentleman seemed willing enough to escape my dreadful playing while presumably keeping his full afternoon’s fee. With the servants distracted by the afternoon bustle as they prepared for their master’s return, my slender lock picks and I crept into every room on the upstairs floor, in search of a bit more background on my closest blood-relation.

Want to read the rest? Download the free PDF here!

More art from Galen Dara – “Love From The Black Lagoon” (revised)

This week we’re showcasing the three images she drew for Cthulhurotica, in their new brightly-colored and enhanced state (the published versions are black and white). These images are now available as prints directly from her Etsy shop HERE

Our second offering, Love From The Black Lagoon:

Galen will also be showing off these images at this year’s World Horror Con in Texas.

Colored in and Prettied Up – Galen Dara’s “Deep Ones”

Artist Galen Dara gives us the nicest things!

This week we’ll showcase the three images she drew for Cthulhurotica, in their new brightly-colored and enhanced state (the published versions are black and white). This image is now available as a print here on her etsy shop.

First, Deep Ones:

We love what she’s done with these, don’t you? If so, then go, buy it! Galen will also be showing off these images at this year’s World Horror Con in Texas.

Want more? Check out her new website at

VALENTINE’S DAY EPUB SALE! Now until Feb 15, our EPUB is only $2.14!

To celebrate Valentine’s Day

In our own, tentacled, way

We offer you more fun for less

Monsters and maidens undressed

Like moans through a stiff wooden door

Our new price, you just can’t ignore

Act quickly, ‘fore our sale is gone

And you’ve missed your chance to get one


From now until thru Feb 14, you can buy an EPUB of Cthulhurotica for the tiny little price of only $2.14, US.

Click on the cover to buy now, and your EPUB delivered instantly to your email

(Please note: When opening the .epub on a Nook, you need to place it in the “My Documents” section, and not in the “My Library” section.)


Tentacled Heart image by Galen Dara

Interview: Galen Dara

Name: Galen Dara

Age: 36

Artist of: Deep OnesLovecraftian Love, and Love From the Black Lagoon

Geographic Location: Edge of the Sonoran Desert

Original Hometown, if different: Meh… I’ve been around a bit.  But in general I claim AZ as home.

Twitter: @galendara


Past publications: Rigor Amortis, Sunstone Magazine, Exponent II Magazine.

What’s your favorite H.P. Lovecraft story or other Mythos story? I’m kind of embarrassed to admit that I haven’t read much of Lovecraft himself [must rectify that asap]… but I recently picked up, and completely enjoyed, a collection of short stories by W. H. Pugmire, who is obsessively devoted to the mythos of Lovecraft and Clark Ashton Smith.

What comes to mind when you think “Lovecraft” + “Erotica”? Well, I have a fascination with Hentai, both of the ancient ukiyo-e variety and it’s contemporary  manifestations;  so the combining of Lovecraft’s beasties and sexuality wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination at all for me.  (Plus all the usual notions of death and worship and sex; they all seem to go hand in, er… whatever.)

What inspired your work for Cthulhurotica? First I pulled up lots of images of real deep sea creatures and did a bunch of studies.  Then I pulled up a bunch of other artists interpretations of Lovecraftian Monsters and did a bunch of studies.  Then I pulled up a bunch of porn and erotica and did a bunch of studies.  Then I finally went to town on my own renditions.

What music or movies helped you to while drawing? Have you seen the movie Teeth?  (None of my drawings for in this anthology specifically had any of THAT imagery, But wow.  Yah.)

How many revisions did you do before submitting? hehe, well. Yes, a few. 🙂

Preferred media: for this anthology I used pen and ink, which I love.  But my absolute favorite way to work is mixed media; where I end up using paint, ink, collage, pencils, markers, charcoal, etc, and have put on and taken off many layers before I get the vibe that says “yep, it’s done.”

Which is your favorite piece? I liked them all, but if I have to choose, I’d say Deep Ones.