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My encounter with the e-zine was nothing short of a nightmare. S.E. Cox picked a fight with me on facebook when a troll named Angry In Illinois vandalized the page for The Ethereal Gazette. She was incahoots with the peter puffer behind GUD Magazine who leaks rejected manuscripts. I never submitted to House of Horror because the e-zine looks like total shit. S.E. Cox is less than professional if she is willing to do a blog saying I stole all the manuscripts for my magazine and anthologies. She nearly killed Lake Fossil Press with that blow, I am still reeling from it and getting the line up for the second namesake that was a celebration of an e-zine that deserved to fold. She wasn’t going to last because she published a review written by a troll and she liked to play tug-a-war with contributors who are alumni of my magazine or joined on the anthologies.
       She was willing to lift my titles for her works to disassociate the title with me, she attempted to do that with her piece of shit that is the fake Quakes And Storms. I knew then I wasn’t going to submit to her publications and make sure I would go semipro. She has a habit of screwing writers out of publishing deals — she hated me because I don’t publish horrotica. She sucked as a writer when it came to horror. She never will be published in Weird Tales or Cemetery Dance. When I did Issue 12 that was a group of friends in the industry coming to my aid when S.E. Cox took a shit on the company and its roster. The cunt called me The Pacione Disease. She pissed me off enough to blow the dust off The Fandom Writer and make the bitch food for the gods.
   &nbps;   The only two writers who blew up after being on that corrupt publisher were both alumni of my magazine. I did the condensed volumes to solve the contributor copy problem. I am the writer that House of Horror E-Zine likes to fuck over and disses all the publications who ran my work saying they were better off without me. What a damn cunt. She was willing to pull a J.L. Benet with my first novel saying in a message, “This is what we don’t publish.”

      “That is the nail in your coffin you Twilight Ripoff” I responded in an e-mail.

      She was having sex with with the artist on Panic Press, and the covers lacked a personal touch. She caused a tug-a-war between me and her over contributor on the namesake anthology who was published wit her and endorsed by an e-zine that used me like a goddamn pawn.