Originally titled 'Broken Routine', Home Invasion is one of the most disturbing stories I ever wrote.
And it's a clear example of why and how I write. I always think about writing as a gift and a curse, for putting out a story is indeed wonderful, but it can also cause you to lose sleep, fight with your significant other, and generally be absent from the breathing world for hours. I try to work on stories I'd love to read, of places I'd like to see, and of characters I'd like to meet.
Unfortunately, it rarely goes that way.
I always dream about writing a hard science fiction novel based on the Nommos and Nephilim mythology, but I'm not yet able to put a single word in that awaiting blank file.
For I'm raped by tales.
They seep inside my mind out of the blue, strike at my soul in the most unexpected of times and places, breaking my routine, and leaving me exhausted once they are over.
Stories tend to rape me. And I always get pregnant.
It's like the xenomorph in 'ALIEN': the idea being the facehugger and the finished product the chestburster.
It happened with ‘REVENANT’ while I was trying to write my science fiction novel, then with ‘Stryx’ while penning down ‘Thrill of the Hunt’. Armand the revenant had it easy; there was a power outage in Ao Nang, which lasted three days, and I spent the evenings chatting with my wife about old horror stories. I recall her mentioning those horror comics (there weren’t graphic novels then) of the ‘70s and out of the dark – literally – the revenant assaulted and placed its weird seed inside me. In less than a week, the monster was out of my brain. Now it has reached adult stage and goes hunting by its own.
Cardinal Lodovico Strigidi invaded my mind while I was writing ‘Echoes from a Distant Desert’ – a short 3-acts tale, I’m planning to finish next – and didn’t let me go till I wrote his cursed story, banging on the walls of my melon, and pacing back and forth in the dark recesses, perpetually repeating his tale like Poe’s telltale heart. This time the delivery was harsher and left some scars, but I swear it burst out almost by itself.
Again, I was writing the outline of a new novel about pirates when a funny guy started asking me what I would do if I knew I was going to die. And he kept asking me that for days, distracting me from those fantastic voyages of the age of sail.
His story, ‘FIVE’, is on the final stage of development and turned out to be one of the most beautiful and humorous tales. I’m really enjoying Mr. Arthur Dale’s voice.
But, a week ago, a new monster took hold of me. And this one was uglier, scarier, and nastier than the others were. Hell, I was still pregnant with Arthur’s tale when this ugly beast ravished me, forcing me to write about the horrors that humans do, and having me describe scenes, even I, consider disgusting. Like all big monsters, its embryo developed faster and has burst out, caked in blood and other fluids, last night and it’s selling already.
My wife uses to say, ‘Jeff, if you were a woman you’ll be always pregnant,” for I rarely say ‘no’ to a request of help.
But this time she is wrong.
I have no choice.
Meet the Andersons, the perfect upper class family of suburban
Kevin is a respected attorney-at-law, loyal husband, father of one, and esteemed member of the community. Samantha is his venerating, classy wife.
But what happens when their apparent idyllic existence is shattered by a stranger armed with a gun?
Jeffrey Kosh invites you to a tour de force of violence, sex, and unexpected twists, in this one-night tale of human terror and treachery.
There are no monsters in this story … or maybe they just wear different masks.It also includes an excerpt from the erotic thriller ‘Thrill of the Hunt’.