Category Archives: Fiction

Legendary cave man abducts a girl, and three unlikely heroes come to the rescue

 

The Ugliest Man in Albuquerque

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When the legendary Hairy Man abducts a teenage girl from her Quinceañera, a Dominican priest, a German muleskinner, and a lovesick young tailor mount a rescue mission. Their pursuit takes the unlikely heroes into the steep and treacherous Sandia Mountains above Albuquerque.

This is a Weird Western short story from The Inquisitor series, detailing the fantastic, supernatural, and strange exploits of a brawling Irish priest sworn to defend and protect the Faith and the faithful in New Mexico, 1824-1851.

Rated PG for action, mild innuendo, and obscured nudity. Approximately 8,100 words or 42 pages.

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Gold Faever, a Weird Western short story, now available

Gold Faever

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Dandy Danny Sheehan is raking in a fortune, thanks to his Pot o’ Gold Saloon in the remote California Gold Rush town of Downieville. But when feisty Sister Bedelia steps through his batwing doors to take up a collection for an orphanage, it will take more than the Luck of the Irish to keep the wily leprechaun from losing his greatest treasure.
 
This is a light-hearted Weird Western short story with a Catholic twist. Approximately 5,200 words, or 30 pages. Rated “G”.
 
CLICK HERE to order your copy today! Only 99 cents!

The Night Nurse – western horror short story is now available!

Now available on Amazon-Kindle…

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When the mysterious Night Nurse at a hospice for dying miners selects Sister Angela as her successor, the young nun must walk the fine line between faith and fear to discover the truth about the Night Nurse’s dreadful Gift. This is a Western Horror short story with a Catholic twist.

ORDER NOW for only 99 cents and The Night Nurse will automatically download to your Kindle app or device.

Approximately 7,500 words. NOT APPROPRIATE FOR CHILDREN.

Check out my Weird West Roundup blog for all things Weird Western, Western Horror, and Western Fantasy.

Western Horror Short Story: ‘Thin Skinned’

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Thin Skinned: a short story of a woman’s revenge in the West

By Patrick Dorn

on April 27, 2016

In the barren, unforgiving desert outside Las Cruces, New Mexico, a sadistic Irish immigrant exacts gruesome revenge on the English lord who wronged her family. This is a western horror short story, approximately 2,250 words. NOT APPROPRIATE FOR CHILDREN.

Read FREE on Kindle Unlimited, or PURCHASE for only 99 cents.

Fiction Update: Weird Western series in the works

I’m currently developing a series of short stories in the Weird Western genre. The tales will take place around 1780, during the California Mission period, and involve cryptozoological (creature of the week) storylines.

My hero is Otto Eisenschaf, a Hessian mercenary who lost his left hand and part of his arm in the first battle of the American Revolutionary War. Rescued from a colonial POW camp by a Jesuit priest, Otto is spirited away to Alta California, and fitted with an iron prosthetic that is full of gears and gadgets and accessories.

Otto serves under Father President Junípero Serra in various capacities, especially investigating strange occurrences in the New World.

My current project, Chupacabron, involves a wily shapeshifting creature that sucks the blood from goats during the full moon at St. Anthony Padua mission.

The stories will have gobs of action and humor. As soon as one is fit for print, I’ll make it available for free on this website, in exchange for subscribing to my newsletter. Or, if you subscribe beforehand, I’ll send you a copy when it’s ready.

The idea for a German mercenary with an iron hand came from a real life character, Gottfried “Götz” von Berlichingen, who fought in the 1500s, nearly 300 years before my stories begin. His prosthetic is pictured here.

Fiction: The Bunny and the Big Black Dog

Dear Readers:

After the catastrophic loss of all my website data a couple weeks ago, I’ve started re-posting some of my most popular posts. Please feel free to share this story with others.

THE BUNNY AND THE BIG BLACK DOG
(Based on an actual event, as refined through theological reflection)

By Patrick Dorn

Early one cloudy morning, a big black dog trotted along a narrow dirt path, sniffing the air and enjoying the freedom that comes with a retractable leash.

Frankie on walk 6-20-15Without warning, a bunny dashed up the path, directly toward him!

“Good morning, Bunny,” Frankie (for that was the big black dog’s name) said. “Would you like to play chase?”

The bunny did not reply, so Frankie lolled his tongue and grinned a toothy, winning smile.

He repeated the invitation. “Chase?”

The bunny continued straight toward him. A collision seemed imminent.

The big black dog was taken aback. Typically, the bunnies he saw on his daily walks ran AWAY from him. But here was this bunny with pert ears and a bouncy stride coming straight at him, and not slowing down.

Frankie braced for impact, hoping the bunny wouldn’t be injured when it bounced off his big black body.Bunny

With an agile grace that Frankie could only admire, and secretly covet, the bunny performed an abrupt left turn, sprinted across a lush patch of grass, and under a bush.

“I guess he changed his mind,” Frankie said to himself. “But why was he in such a hurry?”

The big black dog looked up and saw, only a few yards above, a falconits angry beak gaping, notched wings outstretched against the clouds.

The falcon tucked away its talons, spun and circled upward, perching on the jagged top branches of a long-dead tree.falcon

Frankie glanced at the bush where the bunny crouched and shivered. The poor creature was hunched into a ball, making himself look very small indeed.

“By golly, if I hadn’t happened along, you might have become a tasty morsel for that falcon,” Frankie said. He tried to sound amiable, to calm the agitated bunny.

The bunny twitched its nose.

“You may have saved my life,” the bunny said. “But that doesn’t make us friends.”

The bunny turned, and in a flash of fluffy cottontail, disappeared into the dense undergrowth.

Frankie sadFrankie felt sad as he continued his walk. But he knew the bunny was right. It was a wild bunny after all, running loose in a world of falcons.

It had never known the kind of reassuring freedom that comes with a retractable leash.

THE END

SYMBOLISM ALERT: If you like to figure things out for yourself, READ NO FURTHER. However, if you’d like a hint to aid in deeper reflection, consider this: who is the implied character on the other end of the leash? That’s right. The Master. Now you take it from there.