I have a story in an amazing new anthology—House of Haunts! In 1823, Josiah Hale built his family a grand home in the sultry heat and blinding glare of the Deep South.It wasn’t long before the shadows crept in. Now, two hundred years later, this grand home […]
From Joe's writing

He visited the cemetery at least once a week, but the anniversaries were always the hardest. He missed his family with a sharp ache that had refused to ease over time, instead growing deeper and more raw with every passing moment. It was his fault that his wife and daughter were dead, and he would never – could never – forgive himself.

— Small Things, Chapter 12