CTU Press Release: Contributors Announcement – Fire and Ice Anthology

Honored to be a contributor in this upcoming anthology

Creative Talents Unleashed

Congratulations to the following contributors whom have been chosen for the literary publication Fire and Ice – An anthology of collaborations

Fire and Ice Contributors:

Sarah Lamar King


Lyne Beringer



Jeffery Martin

Tiffany Simone

Dena Daigle

Gocni Shindler

William Wright, Jr.

Don Beukes

Elle McLin

Sagar Singh

Xavier Smith

Sharada Sivaraman

Donna Sanders

Raven Nicole

Aaron Johnson

Sarah Ann Waldron

Mark Andrew Heathcote

Markus Fleischmann

John S. Les

Matthew D. Eayre

Richard Milne

Kent Rucker

Jesica Nodarse

Maggie Mae

Sean Christopher

Josh Dale

Hugh Dysart

Brenda-Lee Ranta

Tamsen Grace

Amrita Valan

Susan E. Birch



Tammy S. Thomas

Angela Bertoli

Dagu Shangevlumun

Amanda J. Evans

Amy Noble

Justin R. Hart

Kelly Klein

Veronica Thornton

Kanchan Bhattacharya

Shirley Cooper

Donna McCabe

Krishna DV

Aly O’Neill

Prince A. McNally

Shelley Buttenhoff Miller

John Jave Akhimien

Steve Lay

Debasish Mishra

Leah Marie Rogers 

Gavin King

Thank you for supporting the

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Headlights like Stars

This woman cuts right through my heart with this piece

Stephanie Bennett-Henry

I never really learned how to be in love with living in this life that is constantly dying. There’s a scream just beneath my skin that never stops crying, makes me stronger each day with the way it teaches me how to die. And I have no right to feel this, no reason or rhyme for this heart breaking me open making me fall like it does. Sometimes I think there is a riddle just under my ribs wanting to be solved, needing to be pieced together until it makes sense of this mess. Until my chest is no longer weighed down with a pain searching for validation to explain the heaviness. I cannot carry it anymore, but it stays and it stays, pounding into me, waiting to break me. I feel it. The way it rises. The way it never settles and I haven’t slept for days. I take…

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Howling Down Hallways – Matthew D. Eayre

I’m on Sudden Denouement today 💚

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Greedily this heart reaches
and none may sway its purpose
in pieces, or complete
a want becoming need
will sustain until the night feeds
burning hunger,
churning thunder,
turning and tearing asunder
what God has gifted

Pointed looks and double-entendre
hang heavily over the top of eyes
too honest, much too open,
no secrets will be kept

Voraciously this mind seeks to consume
hearts and hands and skinned knees
yes and now and yes, please
give and take and
oh goodness gracious, me

Memories of desires left unfulfilled
echo meaningfully in salacious reverberation,
if nothing else keeps the road vanishing then simple lust
might fill the tank

An older man,
but still a man.
The term ‘pervert’ has been used.

Perversion is a matter of perspective
and understanding of physical existence,
what is perverse to the fly
is commonplace to the spider
and the robin notices only in passing


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3am Thoughts – Matthew D. Eayre

I fucking miss my sister

The Lithium Chronicles

There comes a time to say goodbye to who somebody is, and let go of who you wanted them to be.

My grandmother told me this when I was too young to understand, but I have remembered. I was heartbroken (I thought) over a girl who meant everything to me (I thought) and I asked,

“why won’t she let me love her?”

My grandmother patted me on my hands and looked into my eyes as she told me. I did not want to be alone, and that was the whole story for me. What I wanted, what I felt. It took me over twenty years to really understand, to see what she meant.

I have my feelings, my thoughts, my inescapable wants. I have my rules for life, my desires and my insane needs, I have only my own learned lessons to use, and what I needed to know then, as…

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Meet Sudden Denouement Collective Member Sarah Doughty

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

The editors of Sudden Denouement Literary Collective know that our strength is our writers. We hope that you enjoy getting to know them through our new Writer Interview Series.

What name do you write under?

My name is Sarah Doughty and it is not a pseudonym. I wanted my real attached to my words, not just because it’s nice to see my name, but also as a means of showing I’m fully capable as a writer – which is something I was told I would never be able to do as a child. I very much wanted to prove that theory wrong. And I believe I have succeeded in that endeavor.

In what part of the world do you live?  

I live in Indiana USA, in a suburb just outside Indianapolis. It’s an interesting place to live, I’ll leave it at that.

Tell us about yourself. 

Writing has…

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Meditation- Kindra M. Austin

Kindra M. Austin is a personal favorite

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Shall I ascend to solitude,
eagle high
enough to spy
Put my metal parts to practice, and
train my reason to speak in
comprehensive sentences?

I presently think in blinks of
tainted photographs
our lives a fucking flip-book filled with phony animation, as
though we’ve never been anything more than a
pair of paper dolls pretending to breathe.

The surgeon lied. I am not bionic;
should’ve demanded a synthetic heart
Mine is afflicted with fissures, and
I feel the blood leaching like so many earthworms
smothering my organs.

My body is not a temple, but a churchyard—
your burial ground, and there’s no space reserved for
me. So ascend I shall,
eagle high

Kindra M. Austin is an indie author (her books can be found here), a founding member of Indie Blu(e), and a writer/managing editor at Sudden Denouement, Blood Into Ink, and Whisper and the…

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Play Dead – Introducing Kristiana Reed

So good

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Monster is living inside of me

behind my ribcage,

she curls herself around my spine

draws her fingers to my throat

to stroke my collarbone,

to deliver raspy breath to my ear

repeating the words

on which I always choke –

my name, my wants, my needs,

my apologies, my fury –

and the dust from the bones

she’s grinding with a gummy jaw.

Sometimes she sinks down

to bask in the darkness of my womb,

recline in my pelvis

and drag her nails up my thighs

and down my calves, towards my feet

where she binds me with manacles,

shrieking maniacally

words garbled with my sins –

breathing, praying, hoping,

talking, waiting –

for this torture to end,

for Monster living in my head

and the hollows of my heart,

to vanish and leave me

to play dead.

Kristiana Reed day dreams, people watches in coffee shops, teaches English…

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