Diane M. Johnson
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caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Diane M. Johnson
@caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
2K followers 520 following 2.8K posts
Writer of horror. Fan of the supernatural (and Supernatural). Think twice before you DM me. If it’s phishy it’s block-worthy. HWA member.

#ScriptSky #HorrorSky #IndieHorror #BookSky

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https://linktr.ee/dianemjohnsonauthor
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caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Didn’t have this #WIPSnips until I worked it in this morning.
Behind the castle proper, the one being chased zigzags through the brush as Bob's torchlight catches and loses sight of him. But I can follow his path. He ducks at an opportune time, backtracks to the remnants of a separate stone building, our family mausoleum, now empty and vandalized. It’s a building I never entered as a child, never felt comfortable near it, and was never interred there myself although my death made this place my prison.
November 28, 2025 at 6:35 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Happy Thanksgiving, world. Well, here at least. Here’s my #WIPSnips about a group of European invaders making it hard for Tomas to be thankful in the New World. But he must be thankful for something. He manages to smile…
"Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici, Tomas." Tomas didn’t answer why he was there. He managed a chuckle, then spit out blood. And maybe a tooth. His face had gone numb in spots, so he wasn’t quite sure. The Spanish buyer—the treasury representative for Rio de la Hacha, gaped at the whole appalling affair. The incompetent disorganization of these English heathens, this Protestant scum of the earth, must have been unnerving, and Tomas grinned wider. When Twide lurched forward to smack that stupid grin off of Tomas's face, Blondel intervened. "He is in my charge, boatswain. Do l'admiral's bidding." Blondel pulled Tomas aside, as Twide grumbled and led the crew to the hatches, his fingers grasping his hip for a key ring that wasn’t there.
November 27, 2025 at 4:12 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
No instance of impede. But I do have this synonym/vibe. CW for mention of suicide, but in a murder mystery setting. #WIPSnips
Tiny sets right to work, rattles off a stream of consciousness information that Anne already knows—when the castle was built, the imported stones, the history of the the family and their influence on the neighboring communities. "Yes but," Anne interjects repeatedly. And Tiny carries on. "The captain had it furnished with pieces from all over the world. Italy, Spain, Switzerland, Peru. All lost after he set the place on fire and killed himself—" "—But what if he didn’t kill himself?" "—There were so many roadblocks over the business of selling off the hydroelectric plant. The politics of it. The man got depressed over it is my guess." "Would that be enough?" "Would what be enough?" "A captain in the army, an otherwise successful man. With his money and his experience in business matters, would that be enough to consider suicide?"
November 26, 2025 at 3:15 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
This is from a weird west sci-fi short I didn’t finish in time. Maybe I’ll get back to it someday. #WIPSnips
Our twin suns kiss the toasted land in tandem during half our solar run. Sol Prime is the one we spin around. Sol Twain is a neighbor, close enough to wreck havoc on the climate but independent of our planetary system. At least that's how the astronomer on the mountain explains it. He's an odd duck sitting up there by his lonesome, peering at the heavenly bodies and fiery balls of gaseous substances day and night; putting ink to paper in the form of equations and angles and symbols that some here in our valley might call devil language.
November 25, 2025 at 3:52 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I’m pulling from the published work again for this total vibe of debut. Again from Perfect Prophet, where Alec and the band make the big leagues. #WIPSnips CW for language.
The Deathfest. They had made it to the motherfucking Deathfest as part of the Friday night lineup, and Alec was miserable. He waited with the others backstage as the opening band finished its set, and he refrained from scratching off the makeup that made his face itch. He watched Patrick juggle his drumsticks just to irritate Mark, who took a deep swig of a beer before he grabbed a stick midair and beat Patrick across the arm with it. “Ow,” Patrick complained. “Damn, you’re gonna leave a bruise!” He grinned and grabbed the stick back. Alec wondered how the kid, now nineteen and free from his parents’ care, could always be so upbeat. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your fucking time?” Mark asked on edge. “Keeps the fingers limber,” Patrick shot back with another grin. Alec reached through the second juggling attempt and grabbed Mark’s beer. Mark protested as Patrick scrambled to keep from losing his routine and as Alec stole a gulp. “You could use limber fingers on those lonely nights between shows,” Alec added, and Mark replied with his middle finger. EXCERPT from PERFECT PROPHET Copyrighted Material
November 24, 2025 at 3:19 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I knew I wouldn’t find global. I have world in quite a few places, like in this early segment of the published title Perfect Prophet. #WIPSnips
“I don’t know where to begin,” she said, and she wished she hadn’t come. When Alec pushed the issue by hopefully suggesting that she’d moved on and found another guy to replace him, she said no, not really. She told him that she was getting her life together, found time to dedicate to school, and that she had a steady job in Ashland while she worked to complete her B.S. degree in nursing. “Wow, Lindy. You’re going full on legit. Next thing you know, you’ll have the house, the picket fence, the kids in the yard….” He smiled at the idea, his eyes still closed as he drifted toward what Belinda perceived as a long-delayed sleep. “Can I show you something?” Alec opened his eyes, curious as Belinda scrolled through her phone and showed him a picture. “His name is Jake,” she said. “He’s almost four. He’s my world now.” Alec nodded politely with every flip to a new image. Belinda couldn’t tell if he understood what had yet to be said. She took a steady breath and made things clear. “You have a son.” Alec continued to nod in silence, until Belinda finished with the last shot. She stuffed her phone away and waited for a reaction or anything from him. Excerpt from Perfect Prophet Copyrighted material
November 23, 2025 at 5:01 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
This week’s challenge was almost made for the current #WIPSnips.
"You married a good woman," I overhear from a palm reader next in line. "She’s the reason for your longevity." The woman strokes a finger across Stan's hand, who sits in a chair opposite the reader. "Marlarkey! You know who my wife is." He pulls his hand free and gestures to Tiny as she passes. "Odds are, she’s the one who'll kill me." "Love you too, precious." Tiny throws Stan a kiss and keeps moving. Oddly enough, he catches it and winks. They reach the table where a woman wearing a headscarf sits, framed by two crystal balls on either end of the table. A Seer, is the claim on her banner draped along the table front. It has a spray of golden stars across a midnight blue backdrop that matches the headscarf. "Tiny! Come, come! Who are your friends?"
November 22, 2025 at 5:40 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Tiny glances in Anne's direction, unlit cigarette threatening to take a nose dive into the seat crack between them. She sighs and squints back out at the dark road. "Well then, sweetie. Your job is to find the bullet and match it to the right gun." "Find the bullet," Anne repeats with a lot less enthusiasm. "Just like that." "You need your husband."
November 21, 2025 at 3:38 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Decided to fall back to an older #WIPSnips for this one. Ironically, Elvira is the special one here. At least her overprotective bully of a father thinks so, and everyone in camp is acutely aware of it.
“Do you like it?” “Like what,” he said. “The stick. Papa carved it just for you.” She giggled and added, “He says you use it in unexpected ways.” “If he wants the stick back, then take it,” he said without looking at her. She set the cane back down and wished he would change his mood. It wasn’t often that her father was impressed by the men surrounding them. If he was impressed by Mateo, she assumed he was special. “He says you have a fire,” Elvira told him. “A dangerous kind deep inside. Mi padre, he knows how people think. But when he talks with his friends, he says that you surprise him.” Mateo still didn’t engage. Elvira wondered why he would strive to be lonely. Almost like the friars, she thought. She scooted closer and laced her arm around his arm. He pulled free almost before the shout. “Elvira!” She scrambled to reach her feet as her papa lurched toward them. He reached Elvira and yanked her aside before he loomed over Mateo like a mountain. “You think she is pretty? A plaything—” “—I have a wife,” Mateo said. “And a daughter of my own—”
November 20, 2025 at 3:53 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Here it is, the Perfect Prophet series, where men are traumatized by their mistakes, the realization of their own mortality and by crushing guilt and responsibility. As always, thanks for hosting, Eryn.

www.bookbub.com/authors/dian...

#HorrorWritersChat
November 19, 2025 at 11:20 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
The #WIPSnips for third.
From a back booth in the cafe, a timid hand rises up. I recognize the owner as Mr. Rapacz, signaling Tiny like a third grade child asking permission to leave class to pee. He's a bit of a local history buff himself, bookish in his glasses, general wallflower when he comes to the Brewhaha to eat. Younger than Anne and Tiny, but old enough to have known to leave this town due to lack of meaningful employment. "Yes?" Tiny says as she points his way, then flicks a Bic at her cigarette. "Did you say Captain Guy Beardslee was murdered?" The specific nature of the question makes me wrack my brain. Yes, I remember now…
November 19, 2025 at 3:58 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
As promised, the #WIPSnips for retrograde.
"Oh, sweetheart." Tiny finishes the sentiment by reaching for a cigarette burning in a clay made ashtray with Mom painted on the side, sucking in smoke and letting ashes flutter down to the dirt packed floor. I can’t help but remember that floor as planks of imported Italian wood though, and I cringe. "Mars went retrograde on the day of the fire," Tiny says while pointing to a page among the strewn collection, threatening to light the whole mess on fire with that remaining stub of a cigarette.
November 18, 2025 at 3:28 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
The #WIPSnips for spend.
"Tiny Sanders is an astrologer, not some medieval—" "It doesn’t matter what you call it, Anne. This town knows you've been spending time with her, and they don’t like it, and with you being my sister in law, it reflects on me." "Well, aren’t you a piece of work. Bob?" "Don’t look at me. What can I do?"
November 17, 2025 at 3:29 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Your last saved meme is your moral philosophy…
November 17, 2025 at 3:26 AM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
The #WIPSnips today is run. And I have plenty of that, since an election is significant to the plot. But I also have a character whose nickname is Run, so…
Josephine says nothing to that. The group behind her shouts more taunts and jeers; pointing out opinions about why Joe Perry is no good or why he’s going straight to hell. And Joe, to his credit, seems to stand a little taller as he walks away from it. He's heading in to make amends with his wife, after all. To support her interests in the simplest of ways. That’s all any candidate would need to do to get my vote, really. Support their family. Support the community they represent rather than dividing them with some rhetoric to make them think they should choose sides. Us versus them was never a world I wanted to live in. It breeds resentment. My Run would have told you the same if he was here to witness it.
November 16, 2025 at 4:52 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I’m pretty sure I’ve shared this #WIPSnips before. But since my progress on this thing has been slow, I’m sharing it again.
"We're losing time," Anne replies to Tiny. "We have to do it now. Come on." She pulls Tiny along, and into the castle when out of the brush along the castle side, clowns emerge. Clowns. With their frizzy bright hair and red ball noses and garish paint on their faces. Clowns. One heads for the castle entrance too, until the other halts his progress with an arm against his chest, tracking time it seems before lowering the arm and taking the lead. Slowly.
November 15, 2025 at 4:25 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
The week is almost the weekend. Yay! #WIPSnips
The card playing is a weekly ritual between these men. I’ve watched Bob leave Anne on schedule every Tuesday to hang out with the boys. After dinner at 5, it’s up to the Central Hotel for poker and a few beers. I've never taken an interest in joining Bob, though. Gambling is a vice, after all. It can tempt the best meaning soul into reckless behavior.
November 14, 2025 at 3:16 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
And for the #WeeknightWriters host who dutifully reminded me about alt text, here it is again. With Alt Text 😬

…The Perfect Prophet trilogy is still under $6 for the entire set in ebook format! Check them out so I can tell the book marketing scammers they have the wrong mark!

dianemjohnson.com
Cover image of the Perfect Prophet trilogy, book one has a bloody inverted cross on the cover. Book two has a dripping gold cross, and book three has a shadow of a raven. Ebooks are widely available.
November 14, 2025 at 2:55 AM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Nothing new to report, but plenty old to report. The Perfect Prophet trilogy is still under $6 for the entire set in ebook format! Check them out so I can tell the book marketing scammers they have the wrong mark! #WeeknightWriters

dianemjohnson.com
November 14, 2025 at 2:33 AM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Good morning #WIPSnips peeps!
Here’s an early moment with build.
We invested in that line. It might have put the barges out of business but it gave the farmers opportunity for broader trade. Progress isn’t progress without rendering a few innovations obsolete. And the hydroelectric plant was my offering. It was a good thing, too! This great Northeast country was ripe with raw power in the form of waterfalls. Harness it, utilize it, build an empire from it. The Vanderbilts did it with the railways, but I saw our opportunity in the waterways. I brought light to the people of these rural communities, literal light and electricity. They thanked me with revenge. And fire
November 13, 2025 at 3:21 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Shirt — #WIPSnips
Headlights Illuminate picket signs as practitioners of the spiritual arts scurry through them, into the high school once again. Some of them have dressed themselves up like old world gypsies. Others maintain a simplicity of beatnik blacks or jeans and T-shirts with pop culture horror references. Not that it matters to those in protest. They spout Bible passages out of context and prayers that sound like exorcism rites. One sign reads DOWN WITH SATAN, as if Satan was alive and well and setting up shop inside too. One of our own, a local clergyman I recognize from one of the more evangelical churches, preaches gospel like it’s a Sunday sermon.
November 12, 2025 at 3:18 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Today’s #WIPSnips is a deep dive that deserves explanation. A Mexican Hot is a burger, I’ve been told, specific to the NY region where I grew up and created by an ancestor who was a restaurant owner from my hometown.
"Twenty one grams, what’s that?" "A doctor by the name of MacDougall decided to weigh terminal patients upon their deaths to determine the existence of a soul. Early 1900's, he did this. He thought if the soul existed, it existed as matter, and that difference in matter would be apparent in death." "And?" Tiny shakes her head as David signals a waitress for an order. "Inconclusive," she says. "There was weight loss, but sometimes the perceived loss returned later as added weight." "That's weird," David says. "Can I have the cheesesteak?" "Mexican Hot," is what Judy adds without pause.
November 11, 2025 at 3:22 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I found local five times on one page! Here’s a paragraph from that page #WIPSnips
We have our own savings and loan, a sturdy brick building the has a drive thru window with an actual teller to engage your business with and not one of those new fangled money exchanging machines. Inside is an open lobby with a total of three teller windows, and there is never a line. Across the street from that is a bank of local businesses, a five and dime, a tavern, a small grocer, the pharmacist on the corner and in between the pharmacist and the grocer, a bonafide news stand complete with magazines and copies of the local and neighboring town papers.
November 10, 2025 at 3:18 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Have a few pictures. #WIPSnips
Do you remember the day we met, skirting along Main Street, Zimmerman’s Corners our first meeting of Tiny Sanders while she slapped fliers for an event under the wipers of every curbside car? The day has come for the event she wanted everyone to attend, the first ever Zimmerman’s Corners Psychic Fair. Anne has been preparing for it all day, in that she's done her chores early, then organized her notes to ask questions of these seers of past, present and future. She's tucked that picture of young Run away in her notebook too, sparking my hope that she may try to find him, contact him with the aid of one of these mediums.
November 9, 2025 at 5:15 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Pretty sure I’ve shared this #WIPSnips before. But it works
"What—what did you touch?" "I didn’t touch anything." I find the ladies still in the hidden room, peering out of the entrance that is now open. Anne takes caution to lean out, eyes following the beam of her torch for any movement in the shadows. And she just misses it, the escape of the one likeLy responsible for the clown car's flat tires.
November 7, 2025 at 4:08 PM