I don’t know what you will have in your “trick or treat” basket on October 231, 2016, but Deno Sandz is the Horror Author, who will give you something good for Halloween!!! We had a opportunity to interview this penmen of Horror…Let’s take a trip for Ole Hallow Eve.
Deno Sandz was born in Alabama, but raised in Chicago, Illinois and know resides in Ohio; an U.S. Army Veteran. He has published novels such as: “Miss Mary Weather: A Southern Nightmare” (2000), “Pen of Iniquity” (2008), “I,AM: A Force of Relentless Evil” (2010), “Blood Plantation” (2011), “Cry Heaven Cry Hell…The Return of Miss Mary Weather(Sequel)”(2013), “Icabob Shaw” (2014), “The House of Shangri-La” (2014), “7even Dreams: A Dialogue with Evil,” (2014), and “Whorehouse on Penguin Creek,”(2015), “The Sin Cup” (2016), “The Devilz Wzisper” (2016), and “Disappeared in the Snow…A Mother’s Sin, No Forgiveness” (2016). (2015) International Collaboration with Tribarealities ft. Deno Sandz to produce new music video: “Halloween Verse.”
Why did you choose horror writing?
Choosing horror writing was inevitable. The horrific nightmares I had as a child, only conquered by writing them down fueled my passion to embark on this journey in this genre.
What emotions other than freight would you like your reading to experience while reading your novels?
The other emotional experiences I would like my readers to embrace while reading my creations are; fulfilled, entertained, shocked, absorbed, intrigued, terrified, and satisfied.
How do you feel about the new “Psychological” horror movies?
The new “psychological” horror movies are worth watching. I have much love for the producers, directors, and actors of these films.
Would you give us a passage from your Book; “The Sin Cup“?
“Please Ranke, I didn’t steal your money,” Silk yells, as he hangs from a rope by his hands and shirtless.
His face beaten and bruised, blood dripping from the creases of the cuts all over his upper torso. Ranke walks the floor of the dimly lit abandoned warehouse on the east side of Cleveland with his nine-millimeter in one hand and the knife he so graciously used on Silk in the other. His five men crew stands devilish and at attention as he passes them.
Ranke walks around a rusted out metal table inside his inner circle and places his knife down, reaches in his pocket for a cigarette, and leans against the table.
“Please don’t kill me Big Ranke,” Silk said.
“It’s big Ranke now Silk,” Ranke said, raising the lighter up and lighting his cigarette.
Now, after a few hits of the cigarette Ranke spoke, “I always liked you Silk. Haven’t we always liked Silk fellas?” Everyone agreed with only a nod.
“Shayla, Shayla, help me out here. We go way back,” Silk said, spitting blood.
Shayla steps out of the shadows into the light and walks over to Silk. Her nine-month pregnant stomach leads the way. Arriving, her stomach presses closely to his dangling body.
“Stop whining bitch, you stole our money,” rubbing her hand down his bloody chest.
“Fuck you,” Silk yells. Shayla wobbles away, as Ranke approaches
Silk, leaving his knife on the table.
Unbeknown, to Ranke and Shayla waiting in the corner void of light rest several horned demons monitor their evil activities.