Don't Come Around Here No More - A Tale Of Sardis County by T. M. Bilderback

Three teenagers find an open doorway to Hell inside an old man's basement.

Don't come around here no more - a tale of sardis county

In this story from T. M. Bilderback, a new place is introduced:  Sardis County.

Sardis County is a unique place, with colorful characters, and down-home attitudes.  The county seat of Sardis County is the town of Perry, and it has all the usual things a small town can offer.  A high school, town square, police station, and shops are all part of Perry, and the Sardis County Chamber Of Commerce has come up with a slogan:  “Sardis County – Where YOU Make The Magic!

But, there’s something different about Sardis County.  Something based in real magic…and it’s located in an old man’s basement.  Three high school seniors are about to confront something they never expected:  An open doorway to Hell.

And Hell is coming to visit Sardis County.

Heed the warning: Don’t Come Around Here No More, the first story in the series Tales Of Sardis County!

Genre: FICTION / Horror

Secondary Genre: FICTION / Occult & Supernatural

Language: English

Keywords: horror, paranormal, hellhound, witch, occult, demon, supernatural

Word Count: 11000

Sales info:

This is the first story in the series Tales Of Sardis County.

Sample text:

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you’re lookin’ for!” shouted the skinny, grizzled old man.  “Don’t come around here no more!”

The old man was dressed in patched, faded jeans, a stained, white button-up shirt, and an old tattered black vest.  His hair was gray, long, and unkempt.  He hadn’t shaved in several days, and age spots gave him a dirty appearance.  Thick, round spectacles on his face gave his eyes an owlish look.  He stood on the sagging front porch of his deteriorating home, having just climbed from his faded rocking chair.  What little paint remained on the wooden siding was peeling, pieces of the porch roof were dangling, and the house was missing a shingle here and there.  Trees surrounded the house on both sides and the back of the four acre lot, giving the house the feeling of a tattered cabin in the backwoods, instead of a domicile on a southern city street.  The front of the house had a rickety wooden picket fence along the sidewalk, with an unlatched gate at the center.  The yard was as scraggly and unkempt as its owner.

The objects of the old man’s anger stood at the gate, not believing what the old man was saying to them.

Book translation status:

The book is available for translation into any language except those listed below:

Already translated.
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Already translated. Translated by Jill Selling
Author review:
Jill is fantastic to work with!

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