Thursday, May 5, 2016


The day has finally arrived, and I have my two contributor's copies in my hot little hands to prove it. 

Ah, there's nothing finer than the smell of freshly drying ink in the morning!

100 Lightnings has been officially launched in Adelaide on 1 April 2016 (yes, that's right, April Fool's Day - a tipping of the hat to the length of time this antho has been in the works) and is now hitting the book shelves. 

The cover looks awesome and the introduction by Stephen sets the scene and mood of the anthology perfectly.

The anthology features three short stories by Yours Truly and is available from Amazon among other book distributors.

So get yours hands on a copy, put on a steaming pot of coffee and find a nice quite nook to sit back and enjoy the great tales just waiting to give you a bit of a shiver and a thing or two to wonder about as you turn the pages. 

Better make sure you're under cover, though... 

There's a storm brewing and there's lightning on the horizon.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015


Hi all.

I'm very excited to announce that I'll be in Melbourne this Queen's birthday long-weekend attending the Continuum convention.

I'm honoured to be one of the authors taking part in the "Making Monsters" panel, along side such accomplished writers as Dorian Ellis, Kirstyn McDermott and Amie Kaufman. The panel will be exploring the creation of alien or fantasy non-human animals in fiction, such as dragons, tribbles and monsters - what makes them interesting, compelling and believable.

If this has caught your interest, you can check out the Continuum webpage at

Continuum is an annual Melbourne speculative fiction and pop culture fan convention celebrating creativity across genre and media. From hard-edge science fiction to high-flown fantasy, comic books to film noir, high culture to sub-culture.

This year marks the 11th convention. It will be held at the Ether Conference Centre, 265 Little Bourke Street, Melbourne. 

The "Making Monsters" panel is scheduled for Sunday 7 June 2015 at 5 p.m. If you're planning to attend the convention, make sure to pop in and say hi.   

For now, I'll leave you with this parting thought, a quote from Richard Roxburgh:

"You know honestly I think there's a Dracula, a Wolf Man, and a Frankenstein's Monster in all of us. They are sides of our own character so that's why I think we can relate to them in terms of a 'I know how that feels' kind of thing".

Roxy might have been on to something...kind of thing...don't you think?

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Writing Competition - Epic Worlds: A New Adventure!

Howdy Readers.
Inkitt has asked me to spread the word: they are searching for the next J.R.R. Tolkien or J.K. Rowling!

What, am I made of glass?
Here is their media release regarding their latest writing competition:

Take us to an exciting new place in Inkitt's new Writing Competition - Epic Worlds: A New Adventure!

What is Inkitt?
Inkitt is a free writing platform where authors can get creative and watch their stories grow, and they’re opening a new writing contest for entries this spring. Inkitt is a place for writers and readers to collaborate, trade feedback and ideas to improve their work. In the long run, Inkitt’s goal is to help writers get the exposure they deserve and the publishing deals they want without worrying about the impediments and unfairness of traditional printing and self-publishing.

Writing Contest: Epic Worlds - A New Adventure!
This month Inkitt’s writing contest is "Epic Worlds: A New Adventure". Take millions of readers on an epic journey with your best fantasy stories. Submit ancient tales about dragons and griffins, or tell your vision of the future through a science fantasy story. Unleash your imagination and show what you've got and write a truly unforgettable fantasy adventure. Write an adventure that Bilbo Baggins would envy, one that enchants and excites, astounds and has everyone on the edge of their seats.

The contest will begin on May 6th and will close on June 3nd. It is free to enter and you can submit any fantasy story of up to 15,000 words. As per usual, authors will retain all rights to any work they submit.
How to win? Collect the most community votes to get bumped into the top 10% of entries, from there the Inkitt staff will choose the top 3!


1st place: $100 Cash and 5 printed-and-bound copies of story with cover created by Inkitt’s designer

2nd place: $50 Cash
3rd place: $30 Cash

Get it on the adventure! Enter the competition now and prepare to enter a world of fantastic fantasy where anything is possible! (link)

Tuesday, January 20, 2015


Dear All,

I'm pleased to announce that the NIGHT GYPSY: JOURNEY INTO DARKNESS anthology, co-authored by Yours Truly, is out now and available for purchase from Amazon and Barnes & Noble and a number of other booksellers, both in paperback and for Kindle.

Here is a link to the promotional trailer released by the publishers, Indie Gypsy:
Click on any of the links below to download or order a copy:
Care for a teaser?
The Milepost Motel - Reverend Bob returns to the scene of his crime and finds retribution of biblical proportions awaits.

2109 - After being put into a cryogenic tank, a man wakes up and finds out what will keep him alive forever. Will he find Utopia or Hell on Earth?

Fair's Fair - When Bella discovers the truth about the murder of her little brother years before, she sets out to even the score.

                                   This is a customer review from Amazon:

"When I started reading this book, I was not ready for shorts. Shorts is a term I use for short stories. I like my stories full length and full of girth. These bite sized stories delivered more than full sized fun any day hands down and I was shocked. I can't name one story that I didn't like. You won't be unhappy with your choice. However, there are a few stories that I need to see more of, I can't lie about that. Excellent job!"

                                               Thanks for supporting. 

Sunday, January 18, 2015


Welcome everyone to the New Year!

Can you smell that? Smells like promise and opportunity to me!

Just like a ream of fresh paper: a blank canvas ready to fill with wonderful and exciting things.

Lots to report.  Will tell you all about it as soon as I get over my New Year's Eve hangover.


Eugene Gramelis
Sydney, January 2015

Friday, June 22, 2012


                                                    PART 5: “THE ELLENOR”

When they ventured out of the trench, they were confronted with a setting that had gone from resembling a scene from the 1969 moon landing to looking like something beamed back by the Mars Rover. Craters of all different shapes and sizes pockmarked the desert plain; the ash-drizzle had thinned to a grey-amber fog.

Renaldo looked at Luke, his eyes dull with hopelessness. "Where to?"

Luke motioned toward the curl of dark smoke, which had become a constant feature in an otherwise featureless backdrop. It was still the only real option. Amie sat high on Luke's shoulders, like an exotic princes seated atop her litter. Given that Renaldo had carried her last, it was now Luke’s turn to do the honours. She held him firmly around the ears with clammy fingers.

The trio set off, leaving the safetey of the shelter behind them, and weaved their way between the basins of each impact zone. Renaldo wore Luke’s backpack, using it as a shield, much as Luke had done the previous day, against the gusts of icy wind that battered them from all directions.

A few hundred feet into their journey, Renaldo bent down to pick up what looked like a hefty lump of blackened rock, which stood out against the dirty but lighter sand. Smaller pieces of the same dark-coloured stone peppered the whole area.

“Chunks of meteorite,” Luke confirmed. He thought back to the documentary he had watched with his dad. “I think this is what geologists would call a strewnfield.”

“Cool! It's still warm.” Renaldo hefted the stone up and down in one hand. “A piece of rock from outer space. These might be worth something.”

“Sure,” Luke said, “if there were people around to sell them to.”

Renaldo surveyed the barren plain surrounding them. Point made. He allowed the rock to fall to the ground.

They continued their march in the direction of the column of smoke, like the three wise men (well, technically in this case it was two wise men and one not very talkative girl with spooky eyes) following the star over Bethlehem. There was no sense of time or distance; they could have been walking in circles for all they knew. The hunger in Luke’s belly was now superseded by his thirst.

Finally, the spiral of black smoke grew fat before them and they could see large tendrils of flame just beyond the crest of the next sandbank.

The opaque, ginger-coloured drape that hung over the sky was starting to ripen back to crimson. They would need to find shelter again soon.

Luke paused for a moment to catch his breath. His tongue felt gritty and pasty in his mouth. He put Amie down and she quickly found a new home on Renaldo's back. The muscles in Luke's neck were knotted and tense.

A strange object caught the corner of his eye. It lay on the ground about five feet in front of him. At first he thought that his mind was playing tricks on him, a mirage brought on by a hunger-induced delirium.

It was a fish.

A stinky dead one, but a fish just the same.

Renaldo noticed it also. “What the...”

Luke picked it up by the tail and held it in wonder. There was simply no explanation for this. A fish! Here, in the middle of nowhere!

Luke sniffed at it. Pew! It was at least a couple of days dead, but the lack of sun had slowed the decomposition process.

"What are you thinking?" Renaldo asked.

“I'm thinking we're going to eat it.” Luke waved the fish in front of the pitcher's nose.

"Ergh!.” Renaldo pushed it away. "Not me." 

“Do you see any Seven Eleven stores around?”

“Fishy,” Amie said, lifting her head up listlessly from Renaldo's back and then resting it again, as though finding a fish in the middle of what looked like the Sahara desert was the most normal thing in the world. Renaldo smiled. Luke had told him about his conversation with Amie during the morning, and while Renaldo had not indicated any doubt, seeing (or in this case, hearing) is believing.

Luke opened the backpack, took out his math book, and tore a number of pages from it. He wrapped these around the fish. He’d always dreamed about shredding his school books, but not like this. He tucked both the fish and what was left of his math book into his bag.

Once their luch was safely tucked away, they set off again, scalling the tall crest in front of them. When they got to the top the first thing Luke felt was a blast of heat, and what he saw on the other side made his jaw drop.

It was a huge ship -- a freighter judging by the size of it -- slumped on its side like a fallen giant and engulfed in flames, a juggernaut, roughly a football field in length. The ship lay in a massive pool of oil that seemed to be seeping from a gash in its hull. And it was encircled by sand on all sides as far as the eye could see.

Another object lay half-buried in the sand. Luke pulled it loose. This time it was a red and white life saver, with the words THE ELLENOR printed on it. What was this colossus doing here?

So much for the plume of smoke. Luke turned and looked back in the direction they had come from. Thick cords of fog twisted and boiled on the horizon, limiting visibility to a few hundred feet. But for a brief second he thought he had caught a glimpse of something before the clouds quickly swallowed it. There it was again! A tall obelisk in the far distance: the unmistakable silhouette of a skyscraper.

Huge drops of water began splattering at their feat (not ash-drizzle this time, but real rain).

The city was in the opposite direction, Luke realised. They had been walking away from it ever since they had escaped from the tunnel. All this could only mean one thing...

That they were standing in the middle of what was once Boston Harbour.

                                              (c) Copyright Eugene Gramelis, 2012

Tuesday, January 10, 2012



From their shelter, the trio watched as the fireball grew larger and larger until it lit up their surroundings, turning night into day. Then it seemed to splinter into small fragments, which one after the other slammed into the earth with ground-shaking velocity.

The girl buried her face in Luke's chest. Her tiny body quivered in fear. The drop in temperature couldn't be helping, either. Luke squeezed her tightly, shielding her from the cold and the mushroom cloud of dust coming their way. He lifted the tip of his shirt collar so that it covered his mouth and nose, and motioned to Renaldo to do the same. Renaldo happily complied.

More lights detached themselves from the heavens and plummeted toward them. Most of these seemed to fizzle out before making landfall, but a few thudded into the ground beyond the dune, strafing the corrugated roofing of their refuge with shrapnel and debris from the impact zone.

"I'm telling you," Renaldo insisted through his makeshift ski-mask, "those are nukes. I bet China's behind it... No, wait, North Korea!"

"If those were nukes, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Luke pointed out.

"What do you make of it then?"

Luke still wasn't sure. Part of him wanted to hold on to the belief that this was all some horrible nightmare, but the gurgling in his empty stomach felt pretty real. As for Renaldo's theory that they were under attack from a rogue nation, well, Luke guessed that was a possibility that couldn't be ruled out just yet; but he had a feeling those fireballs weren't man-made. "I think we might be experiencing a meteor shower," he finally ventured. At least he hoped that was all it was. "I saw something similar to this on the Discovery Channel once. In a documentary I watched with my dad." Again, the grief threatened to engulf him; once more he thrust it back into the shadows.

The extraterrestrial bombardment continued throughout the long hours that followed, with wave after wave of these fireballs lighting up the sky and either burning out in the atmosphere or crashing into the nearby terrain. All he could do was pray that none scored a direct hit on their little hideout.

At some point Luke must have dozed off because he was startled awake by something soft poking at his nose. It was a tiny finger. It belonged to the girl. She pointed outside. Luke stuck his head past the edge of the corrugated sheet to take a look. Visibility was still low and there was no sun in the sky as far as he could make out, but much of the dust had settled and the horizon had gone from blood-purple to a milky ginger, which probably meant that it was no longer night. He listened, and heard nothing. This was a good sign. It meant that the aerial offensive had also come to an end.

Luke returned to the girl and sat beside her. Renaldo was still snoozing, and could, no doubt, sleep through World War III if Luke chose not to wake him. What he found almost amusing was the thought that Renaldo might indeed be sleeping through World War III.

The girl rubbed her tummy and gestured with her hand to her mouth, her lilac eyes wide and moist.

"I'm sorry," Luke said, "I don't have any more food. We ate all the mints last night."

The girl pouted her lips and looked away.

"Hey, you don't get out of it that easy," Luke said, gently. He figured she couldn't be more than three or four years of age. "I know you can talk. Forjooleye, remember?"

She looked at him but said nothing.

"My name is Luke. What's your name?" Luke and Renaldo had tried this line a number of times and had received only a curious, lavender stare in response. And it seemed he was being given the same treatment now.

He nestled against his bag and closed his eyes.

The same soft finger poked him in the nose. "Ay me."

"Huh?" Luke sat up.

"Ay me," the girl said again.

"Amie." Luke mouthed her name, trying it on for size. It was a good fit. She definitely looked like an Amie.

Amie smiled, timidly at first, but it soon erupted into a big grin.

Luke held out his arms, and she came to him. He leaned back against his bag with the girl resting her warm cheek on his torso.

Nice to meet you, Amie, he thought. Welcome to my nightmare.

(c) Copyright Eugene Gramelis, 2012