N J Delmas
Bio
I lean towards the darker side of fiction and poetry. I love folk lore, fairy tales, ghosts and witches, often giving old themes a new twist. I have published with several magazines and am in the process of writing a dark YA fiction.
Stories (11)
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Bell book and Candle
I sit on the wooden pew with my head bowed, concentrating on the green chequered pattern of my pleated school skirt. The chapel is small and located in the old Manor House part of the building. The alter stands in front of a large bay window looking out on the grounds and the ha-ha wall beyond. A single candle drips warm wax at its centre filling the air with frankincense scented smoke.
By N J Delmasa day ago in Horror
Manchineel
A distant lilac ball hung in a clear desert sky. The sun reduced to a small purple sphere before it set behind volcanoes. Streaks of silvery blue clouds shone in the twilight before relenting to the night and its two silver moons. Deep, deep down inside a canyon, amongst red cracked regolith, reaching up with twisted branches, a tree grew on Mars.
By N J Delmas7 days ago in Chapters
Dial One for Heaven. Top Story - February 2026.
A red phone box stands alone in the middle of a field. Long grass and wildflowers surround it and little else. I make my way over; glad I’m wearing my wellies. I avoid the cow pats along the way and bat a couple of flies from my face.
By N J Delmas10 days ago in Fiction
Hemlock
Mr. Perigo was dead. There was no doubt in this matter. It had been established by his mourning widow, the clergyman and the undertaker. He was as dead as an inanimate object could be. As dead as a cartwheel abandoned in a canal, as a flickering candle in a haunted mansion, as a penniless poet’s inkwell. Take your pick, he was defiantly a goner.
By N J Delmas24 days ago in Fiction
Killing him slowly. Top Story - January 2026.
There’s an intruder in my house again. He stumbles through the door, wet carrier bags in hand. He’s bought me offerings. I show my appreciation, letting him caress my beautiful body. He wants to touch me. I rub myself against his legs. He sighs, dropping the bags. He can’t resist touching me. Running his hand slowly down my spine, I arch my back towards his caress, let out a low purr. It’s what we both need.
By N J Delmas28 days ago in Horror
