Jessica Lynne Gardner is a up and coming horror writer whose work has appeared in over a dozen publications including Shroud Magazine, Darkened Horizons, Twisted Tongue, Sinister Landscapes, Phobia Magazine and Raw:Brutality as an Art Form by Snuff Books. Her first novella, “Sugar Skull”, was part of a compilation called Creeping Shadows featuring online best sellers Alan Draven and Brandon Ford.
She was born in May of ’85 in the bustling suburbs of Baltimore where she grew up in a magical house with her menagerie of pets and two caring grandparents. Her vivid imagination has gotten her into trouble more than once and her fear of the dark as well as her grandfather’s creativity encouraged the fantastical, weird and frightening stories which she would later pen. In high school she peeked outside of her shell just enough to make a few lifetime friends and continued to experiment with different types of writing. She was a staff member and writer of the school paper, The Patriot as well as the literary magazine The Chrysalis.
She was in the public relations and free lance journalist field for many years and has been employed by Advance Realty, MaryElise.com, and MarriedInMaryland.com for her writing services. She’s also been a part of numerous biographies, press releases and other business writing projects.
Her poetry has been published by the International Library of Poetry, on Poetry.com and in Reverence of Rune.
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- Excerpt from “Natalie’s Garden” in Twisted Fairy Tale Anthology (published by Unexpected Spark):
She had the look of a girl who’d been stunning once. Her thin, pale face was the only unmarred part of her. The spindled body parts showing under her plain garb were gleaming with jagged candy cane scar tissue. The most intriguing thing was her hair. Even with her head clean and smooth as a newborn’s, he could tell it was exquisite. Folded over the striped forearms and calves was a delicate, golden down that refracted pure unadulterated sunshine. She was heaven. There was no green or orange tinge some blondes had—it was warm—the brightest, palest gold. Her eyebrows were the same but short and fine, making it difficult to see the gleam. Many would consider her large eyes beautiful; they were sparkling ice cycles, tinged with arctic blue.
But when he looked at her he avoided them, there was too much pain and secrets there, casting hard shadows underneath. All he cared about was her shining arms, which were folded tightly over her frail body. He could sense her awkwardness. She was new, transferred from another location after some kind of staffing issue. Her chart said she’d been there since she was 16. Six years. Must have been rough. He skipped a few pages to her background. In the notes section of the file he saw a precaution written in red ink, “Important: Keep head shaved.” He wondered what would happen if she didn’t. Did they think she would grow it out and climb out the window with it? He chuckled quietly at himself. Her head turned, the innocent eyes twitched and narrowed, wondering what could be so funny within the manila folder that was her life. He could see the mental inventory of what was written there: prescriptions, locations, her attempted suicide… her whole, unremarkable life was recorded in the paper between his hands. The thought sent a thrill through him.
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