Diane M. Johnson
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caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Diane M. Johnson
@caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
1.9K 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

Find me through Linktree:

https://linktr.ee/dianemjohnsonauthor
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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
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Like most everyone, I did not have this #WIPSnips word. But I did have a place for it, and I used it in a way that’s as pretentious as it sounds. 😬
"Thank you," Anne says, then leans in to kiss his cheek. He raises a finger to stop her. "I have something for you. Wait here." He leaves, then returns with an aerosol canister small enough to fit in a pocket. "Pepper spray?" Bob doesn’t answer. Instead, he shows her how to use it. "In case you encounter questionable strangers. While painting." "Penultimate to a gun, I suppose," Tiny says, as Anne grins and lands that kiss on Bob's cheek. "Penultimate?" Bob shakes his head at Tiny. Then the ladies are off, backing slowly out of the drive after Bob clears their path. I follow them along Main Street, where curious onlookers point and whisper about the car, the occupants, and that ladder sticking out of the trunk.
November 6, 2025 at 3:31 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Truly a fun challenge, Gree_
I’m going to continue to promo the #PerfectProphet trilogy, although it’s not really cosmic. It does touch on the whys of our existence though… Until then, it’s back to work on the cozy paranormal mystery. #HorrorWritersChat

dianemjohnson.com/books
November 5, 2025 at 10:53 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I’m late to the #WIPSnips post due to the flu. But here it is
This is when I hear Bob return from his rounds. "Lucy, I’m home, he announces to the desk dispatcher in the office, and yes her name is Lucy. Bob gets a chuckle from it every time I’ve heard him say it. Lucy, on the other hand, is ten years younger. She frees a tepid laugh accompanied by an eye roll and a shake of the head. Then he says it, and I want to kiss him. "You left the records room open." "Me?" Lucy says. "I haven’t been in the records room all night." Bob stops in his tracks, that investigative mind of his slowly kicking in as he backs up to the hall, leans through the doorframe and peers down. Come on, Officer Perry, I say at his ear in hopes of him hearing—of paying the most acute attention. Do your job! He makes a beeline down the hall, Lucy trailing out to ask him what’s wrong, when he reaches the records room door, hand hovering at his gun holster as he flips on the records room lights. His eyes scan every inch of that records room before his eyes land on a stray page on the floor. 'The mayor’s still here?" he asks Lucy casually. "Josephine? Didn’t realize she was here." "She have a key?" "Well, Bob. She’s the mayor. "
November 5, 2025 at 8:45 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I do have steel in the current work but decided to go back into the series idea for this #WIPSnips
A patch covered the veteran Almagro’s blind eye; a badge of honor from conquests past. Pizarro wanted to plunge his steel sword through it to the back of Almagro’s skull. Oh, his brothers would be proud. He raised his sword above his head and bellowed his command. “Chaaarrrggge!”
November 4, 2025 at 3:03 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
The #WIPSnips for nice. Brian is nice. Too nice, probably.
Also in attendance is that nice young man Brian from the village clerk's office. Out of place among these faces of forty and beyond, I believe he's also a minutes taker at many a board meeting. He saws through a meatball on his plate, the quietest among the chatterers surrounding him. He smiles at Josephine's husband Peter who is in mid conversation with William, our deputy mayor, when Peter singles Brian out with a pointed fork. "Isn’t that right, Brian." Brian looks lost, but he shrugs and nods. The right answer, for Peter and William nod back before they laugh and laugh.
November 3, 2025 at 3:23 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I don’t think I post links to my own books a lot, but it’s something we writers kinda havta do on occasion. I’m proud of the Perfect Prophet series for its horror, its spotlight on faith and its focus on struggles that make believing in a purpose a challenge.

www.amazon.com/dp/B08V3GZJ7...
November 2, 2025 at 4:46 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I found more world wide webs than spidery ones, except for this moment between Lucas and Maggie in Prophet Reborn. Not a #WIPSnips, but a published one. Apologies for the length. CW for mention of suicide. For context, Maggie knows nothing but Evangelical Christian life, and Lucas is a murderer.
…She paraphrased from the book. “A wealthy farmer had two sons. One asked for his share of an inheritance and left to explore the world—” “—And he lost everything because he was a sinner. So he returned home seeking forgiveness, fully expecting a penance, but the father celebrated his return with a feast fit for kings.” “You said you never heard this story.” “I lied.” “Why?” When Lucas didn’t answer, Maggie pressed on. “Anyone can return to the Lord.” “How about a murderer?” He continued to shovel manure. “It doesn’t say.” Before Maggie could consider an answer, Lucas abandoned the shovel and hopped up beside her. “It doesn’t say because the prodigal son isn’t a murderer.” He pointed at the page. “You can’t use this story as your argument for God’s willingness to accept anyone—” “—Jesus pardoned a murderer when he was on the cross.” Her defense slipped out with an ease that even she found surprising. Lucas stared at her in silence. He finally admitted that she knew her shit, and she beamed at him. “You do, too,” she said. They let their feet dangle as they studied the cobwebbed corners of the stable. The horses and goats were in the corral, so the only noise came from Maggie’s heels thumping the bale. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Lucas was doing it again, his habit of taking his left hand into his right then shaping and molding it as if it was an unfamiliar piece of him. What intrigued her more was the scar across the wrist. It made her think of her mother. It was a thing that John David made her promise to never talk about, but here Lucas was with a scar across his wrist and a sadness that Maggie remembered from her mother. “Why did you try to kill yourself?” Excerpt from Prophet Reborn Copyrighted Material Link to the book page for Prophet Reborn https://store.bookbaby.com/book/prophet-reborn
November 2, 2025 at 3:39 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
I do have the #WIPSnips word for Halloween snips week the day after Halloween. Yay!
I am sadly aware of what the room used to be. I know the history of the property. If these Natives hadn’t rebelled during the French Indian Wars—hadn’t conspired to seize the munitions stored in these cellar compartments, torches ablaze for light, they might not have been blown to Kingdom Come, sealing their fate as prisoners of their own rebellious cause. They know I am a descendent of the man they tried to steal from. Like Run, they have little compassion for me or the events that caused my demise. Maybe it’s better this way; being a victim of my own secrets, the secrets of my ancestors.
November 1, 2025 at 5:50 PM
caseyadamsstark.bsky.social
Due to explosive demand? I’m highly skeptical.
November 1, 2025 at 5:13 PM