He eats without expression. He tips without counting. And he barely blinks. Dunmore, New Hampshire, 1988. Diane Hayward wants one thing: quiet. A small town, a fresh start, and a house where no one tells her what the thermostat should be set to. Then autumn deepens, and a stranger arrives. He is tall, dark-haired, and deeply peculiar. To the town, he is an unsettling presence. But to Diane, he is a hypnotic pull she cannot shake. Even as her neighbor begins documenting the man’s bizarre, rigid habits, Diane avoids connecting the dots — drawn closer and closer to a darkness she refuses to fear. Horror of a quiet kind — domestic, patient, told at the pace of casseroles and school days, with a heroine who is forty-four, practical, dry, and not apologizing for any of it. A science fiction horror novel in the tradition of Under the Skin and Annihilation.
I wrote my first story at the age of fourteen. This went on until my mid-twenties, and then, for some reason, life got in the way.
After many years away from writing, including a brief detour into fan fiction, I eventually returned to storytelling.
The ideas have been piling up for so many years, which is somewhat overwhelming and also a little sad, because it took me so long to finally get them out of my head.
My literary home lies somewhere in the realm of speculative fiction, between quiet horror, science fiction, a bit of magical realism and weird... often paired with a touch of unconventional love.
I love the horror and sci-fi movies of the '80s, '90s, and early 2000s.
Authors like Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Neil Gaiman, Philip K. Dick, Edgar Allan Poe, and H.P. Lovecraft have deeply shaped my imagination.