Tuesday, October 31, 2023



Photo by Dr. Ina Melny on Unsplash


"It's a fake graveyard, for heaven's sake," I yelled at the officer at my door.

"Then, please explain why we found your husband buried underneath the fake zombie?" He answered with a question I had no answer for.

I backed up into my living room and fell into the easy chair. The officer followed.

Startled, confused, and unbelieving, I finally understood. "This…this is a joke. You and Cooper cooked this up as a Halloween prank. Didn't you," I said in relief. "Funny. Too, too funny."

"No, ma'am, this is no hoax. Your husband is being tended to by forensics now. He's definitely dead. The coroner confirmed that just minutes ago."

"But how do you know it's Cooper?"

"Fingerprints. Plus, he called 911 last night. Said we'd find him there this morning, and that you were responsible."

"No," I said with a smile. "Cooper couldn't have. I killed him two days…."


150 word Flash

Yolanda Renee © 2023



How's that for combining all three

poetry, drabbles, and flashes

just a bit of fun for thee

and my gift for the month



Now some cuteness to end it all

on a very high note!


Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash


Monday, October 30, 2023



Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash

Pay Attention

My back might be turned.

no need for concern

I'm observing

as I always do

the many victims

that'll get their due

are you one of them

have you heeded my warning

or will all Hallows Eve

find you're one of them!



Yolanda RenĂ©e © 2023


Photo by Jon Butterworth on Unsplash


Sunday, October 29, 2023



Photo by Iswanto Arif on Unsplash


I hear the siren's song and long to be in my lover's arms.

She haunts me on land and sea. Beautiful, sultry, and true. Kisses that taste of honey. A body that gives all and more.

The siren tempts my soul with sweet promises, the serenity of a tropical island. Blue skies, fruit, and fish prepared just so and vows that she'll always be at my sexual beck-n-call.

However, I've heard a rumor. Once my beauty's satisfied, I'll be put out to pasture until dinner's next call.

Seriously, though, I'm wholly against being on the menu after just one ball.

100 words

Yolanda Renee ©


May not be Hallowe'eny

but then again

Siren's eat men

case made

wouldn't you say?


 Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash


Saturday, October 28, 2023



Photo by Jennifer Marquez on Unsplash



She's beautiful, so sweet

enticing, exciting

a woman to behold

to worship

to take home

to make her your own

but it's Halloween

is she truly your queen

remember, this is the night

 truth is masked

personalities hidden

nothing's forbidden

do you dare

make your move

take a chance

she may choose you

instead of the prince

trying to convince her

with gold and frankincense

oh, look, you've caught her eye

still, she played shy

but you've won the night

and quickly took flight

at midnight

finally isolated

her kiss was all yours

in her arms, you were clasped

under her power, finally cast

she literally sucked you dry

not blood, but breath and life

she came away more beautiful

you came away re-usable

a plant stand

wow, what a man

I'd say you've won

a heavenly death

better than a gun

in the arms of love

there's nothing sweeter

than the kiss

of a succubus man-eater



Yolanda Renee © 2023

Photo by Paul Cuoco on Unsplash


Friday, October 27, 2023



Another dawn

and we're not gone

we made a pledge

and our word

is our bond!

100 words

for all you nerds

who suffer coulrophobia.


The Perfect Child

They say you're safe during the day. But I can attest that it's not true. At a carnival when I was two, a sweet-looking clown made me smile. Then quickly disappeared with me in a pouch.

Twenty years later. I'm the clown. Red hair, red nose, and a pouch ready to go. I can make them laugh too. And the perfect child I will have soon.

But Mommy's overly protective, so I follow them home. Distracted and on the phone, her sweet little guy will be mine soon.

One day he'll delight the crowds to find his perfect child.


100 words

Yolanda Renee © 2023


In case you didn't know

coulrophobia is the fear of clowns.

Photo by Nong on Unsplash

Not funny

Not cute

But neither is a clown

in an oversized suit




Thursday, October 26, 2023



Photo by Justin Arkinson on Unsplash


Don't Judge

These items belong to me

do they frighten thee

you should see my collection of knives

but hey, I'm like most housewives

with just a hint of horror

although my hobby most abhor

the exploration of black magic

gives me such a kick

if death does occur

well, it's doesn't deter

it's something I can fix

with the help of the demon Stix

if I give her the soul,

the human begins to droll

in essence, they're back

it's no hack

works every time

no harm, no crime

where do you think

ghouls are made

but I must admit

the numbers have climbed

all these soulless influencers

are truly the offense

maybe it makes sense

to call all those

narcissistic ghouls back home

no more to roam.



Yolanda RenĂ©e © 2023


Photo by Collabstr on Unsplash


Wednesday, October 25, 2023



Photo by Paolo Conversano on Unsplash

You Can't Hide

I've found your abode. It didn't take long. Your heavenly scent was easily followed.

A lovely Victorian. I was shocked it was hidden so deep in the woods. Please come out, my dear. The night is so beautiful. The moon is high, and my hunger for you grows.

Don't fear. I could never hurt you. You'll be a queen. You'll sit at my right hand and be mother to our young whelps.

We met by chance, but our coupling is blessed. Please, dear heart, come to the door. Don't make me huff and puff and blow your lovely house down!


100 Words

Yolanda Renee © 2023



Did you expect it this time?

A drabble instead of a rhyme?

I'm full of surprises

I've lots of disguises

You'll see I've even more

I'll even the score

just me and my

ravens, forevermore.



Tuesday, October 24, 2023



Photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash



Say it girls

he's definitely dangerous

so handsome

so sly

just right

for a bawdy night

but do we dare

will his fangs flare

will we end up

just part of his lair

we all want top billing

not a killing

to be held in his arms

away from all harm

to be kissed so deeply

there is no beginning 

 no end

his touch would be magical

not tragical

for surely he's real

and not out for a kill

just look at that face

not a trace of mean

but oh dear, it is Halloween.



Yolanda RenĂ©e © 2023

Photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash


Monday, October 23, 2023


 Photo by Richard Loader on Unsplash


The fog is gathering again. Evil lives in its depths. And I know I'm a victim. Last Halloween, while on my way home, the car suddenly stopped. I had plenty of gas, and the battery was new. But no matter what I did, the damn thing wouldn't start.

A mile yet to go. I could do that. I'd be home in fifteen minutes. I gathered my belongings. Right before stepping out of the car, I saw the fog. It was approaching fast. Blowing in waves like thick smoke pushed by an otherworldly wind. There was no breeze, but watching it move belied that.

I locked the car door and ran home. My heel caught and broke. I kicked my shoes off and continued barefoot. Superstition about the fog urged me forward.

But something grabbed me from behind. I was at his mercy.

A knife slashed my cheek. I kicked backward and somehow got free. I raced to the door, key in hand, and I was inside just as the fog reached my porch. The clock chimed midnight.

I was bloody, but I was alive. And the fog had disappeared.

Tonight, a year later, it's Halloween once again.

The temperature keeps dropping, and the fog has surrounded my house. Death's come to finish the job.

The chill of fear brittles my bones. I close the curtains, check all the locks, and return to the dining room to ensure the patio door is double-locked. But I'd already done that several times. I was on edge, unable to think straight. Terror had me in its talons.

As the clock began the countdown to midnight, I breathed a sigh of relief. But then noticed the fog seeping in from every crevice. Even locked doors wouldn't keep death out. He's come for me again. I ran to the bathroom shower and turned on the cold water. Surly, cold water will kill the fog and keep me safe. Just a few more chimes till midnight…

     The next morning:

"That psycho slasher has struck again," the police officer tells the detective as he walks into my house.


350 Words

Yolanda RenĂ©e © 2023

Photo by wild vibes on Unsplash


Sunday, October 22, 2023


Photo by Angel Luciano on Unsplash


It's just an old house

what do you fear?

a mouse

or the ghost of the house

she wanders in the dark

from dusk till dawn

does she say boo

no, she says shoo

you're disturbing her home

the one she roams

so get off your phone

and leave them alone

or you'll be the ghoul

without a soul

for this season

gives them powers

beyond reason


makes beautiful ladies mean.



Yolanda RenĂ©e © 2023


Photo by allison christine on Unsplash




Saturday, October 21, 2023



Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash

You Are Warned!

You see the sign

it's not benign

we gave fair warning

but now you're mourning

yet it was your choice

made with your voice

"I want to be scared!"

that's why our notice fails

you won't listen

you fall for all that glistens

we love to please

always try to appease

as we lead you deeper

we're now your keeper

blood is our nectar

bones our specter

we enslave a body

and embody your soul

so now that you're schooled

still want to meet the ghoul

of course, you do

especially after drinking

our special brew.

drink up

drink up

the hour is near

never fear we'll be here.



Yolanda RenĂ©e © 2023


Photo by allison christine on Unsplash



Tuesday, October 17, 2023


DAY "17th thru the 20th" 



Gray clouds and, occasionally, a mysterious gust of wind would stir the frozen snowflakes into weird dances that haunted Sarah daily. No sun, no birdsong, just the occasional crack and shattering of an icicle falling from a great height and the unusual gurgle of air escaping from the lake were the only sounds that filled her days. 

Sarah did her best to chase the blues away. Singing her favorite songs, Sarah serenaded the ice-filled gorge for her peace of mind and the echoing accompaniment. Sitting atop the rock in her favorite fishing spot, she sang as she fished for the fresh dinner she'd planned for Chet's return. He said he'd be back in a week, if not sooner, either with the rescuers or just to return to her because the mountain was still socked in.

Sarah hadn't heard the sound of one plane or chopper the entire week, even though she'd spent hours listening. Meditating, praying, and visualizing, to no avail. She had not been able to manifest anything positive, but still, she held on to hope.

She stared over the lake, wondering about Chet's location when she heard his voice. 

"Sarah, you really need to be more careful. Pay attention. Be prepared, he's coming." 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chet approaching and turned to greet him, but a sudden yank on her fishing pole had her jerking her attention back to the lake. The rod went flying. She grabbed for it but lost her balance and slid off the rock straight down onto the ice. Chet's makeshift cast on her broken ankle gave way, but so did the ice. Sarah slipped through and into the cold wetness. The pain surging through her body was nothing compared to the intense shock of the water as it consumed her.

Photo by Greg Nerantzakis on Unsplash

She fought with all she had to get back to the surface. But murkiness, tangled reeds, heavy clothes, and a heavier parka weighed her down. Her lungs felt like they'd explode before she would recognize which way was up. But she let go of a lung full of air and watched the bubbles ascend. She kicked off the rocky bottom with her good leg, and with her parka half on and half off, she broke through to the surface. Grappling to find a handhold on the ice and laboring not to be pulled back into the icy water by the heavy parka. She took a deep breath and yelled for Chet. But he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd gone for some rope. Calming herself, she removed the water-soaked coat and threw it toward the rocks sticking above the ice on shore that were out of her reach. After three throws, she managed to secure the hood of her parka over a large stone. Sarah pulled herself from the lake and across the rock-filled icy shore.

Breathless and unable to find her crutches, she crawled back to the cave. She knew how deadly hyperthermia was, and her only goal was to get to safety and warmth. But as she dragged her broken foot along the ground, the rest of the splint, mostly gauze, sluffed off. But a section became caught on a stone. She stopped to tear the rest of the makeshift cast off, which left her leg unprotected and made her movements even more painful. She took a moment to catch her breath, pray, and look around. Where the hell was Chet? She knew she'd seen him. She knew she heard his voice.

But a deep silence covered the area. No wind, not even a rustle. The pain in her leg was becoming worse. Even more than she remembered of the initial break. She laid her broken leg across her good leg. Just as a chill wind blew a swirl of snow like a dust devil at her. The clouds darkened, and lightning and thunder shook the gorge. Giant icicles by the dozens crashed to the ground, and blowing snow twirled and blew in all directions.

Darkness had fallen so quickly that it was as though someone had turned the lights out or closed the curtains. Sarah shivered and thought her bones would snap from the instant brittleness caused by the Arctic chill. Then her entire body began shaking uncontrollably. Her extremities burned as though they were on fire, and then they grew numb almost simultaneously. She gathered her strength and pulled herself backward with her hands and arms. She let her good leg protect and haul the broken one. Eventually, she made it to the entrance of the cavern.

Photo by Chris Ensminger on Unsplash

Sighing in relief, she suddenly froze in place. The howl of a wolf, something she'd heard several times since the crash, stopped her cold. The cry was close. This time, the wolf was closer.

She looked up. Atop the cliff was a gray-black wolf, his vicious fang-filled grin intimated at the terror he couldn't wait to inflict.

That's when she realized that Chet wasn't coming back.

He'd warned her.

It was Chet's last heroic deed.


842 words

Yolanda Renee © 2023

Tagline: Pay attention to your sixth sense.

This is another excerpt from the 7th book of my Alaskan Series, Murder on Mount Fairweather, coming out December 2023.