Words with a Luniakk – Toneye Eyenot is interviewed by the Madmen at Gorenography – Metal, Horror & General Madness


“Death Metal song lyrics were what got me started. But first, 13 years after my first band, Nomenclature Diablerie (c.1988), eye moved to the Blue Mountains and met the drummer from Chaotic Impurity. He and The Unnamed were in the process of resurrecting the band after a seven year dirt nap…”



“While my series is a blend of Fantasy and Horror, pretty much everything else eye write is purely Horror; from the extreme end of the spectrum to the creepy and subtle. Some eye even inject a little dark humour into, depending on the theme. Extreme, psychological, occult, creature, body horror, splattergore, supernatural, even the occasional venture into the bizarro realm.”


“The first of those books is a Werewolf novella which eye am hells excited about bringing back to life!, Wolvz: Whispers of War. It’s on pre-order at the time of writing this, due for release October 31. One of the koolest things anyone has ever said about my writing is from a review for Wolvz –
“A melodic slaughter. Crimson honey for your mind.”


“Writing is my passion, so therein lie my plans. My dreams of making it in my music career were doomed from the start. For one, the kind of music eye play is pretty rarely ever sustainably successful. Apart from that, the Australian music industry is a total bag of shit.”


“As of now, and for the next few moons, you can only purchase my books on Amazon:


In time, eye plan to expand to various other distribution outlets. This year has kinda been a period of ‘reinventing myself’.”


“Eye am extremely fortunate to have Mar by my side. She is the real deal and a well-respected name in the Indie Horror community. She made my decision to self publish a no-brainer.”

my love

“My best memory though, is from 2005, when we played at Bloodlust V. My son, Odin was 10 years old and we gave him his first taste of live performance. He got up and played our last song with us, ending our set with a shreddin’ guitar solo that freaked every kunt out hahaha.”


See the full interview here:



I reviewed “Wolvz: Whispers of War” by Toneye Eyenot

A Fangtastic review for Wolvz: Whispers of War to help celebrate the Unleashing!

Lily Lamb

This story is vivid, spine chilling, gory and visceral. I felt tearful, angry, a bit blood thirsty and spiteful towards the human race as I read the story. These werewolves in the story are not one’s average creatures. They are vengeful, hurting and furious so imagine their revenge on humankind….and that is exactly what is happening in “Wolvz”. It is written in 1st POV which made the read feel deeply personal. I was emerged in the story, living and breathing it. I felt like one of the wolf community so I ached with hurt and anger. At one stage I seriously wondered whether there was such thing called a werewolf and doubted whether the author was one, living among us secretly.



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The long awaited rerelease of this ravenous tale is finally upon us! No locks or prayers will save you now. The Wolvz are at your door!

Help spread the word!

Help spread the FEAR!



SYNOPSIS: The war on humanity has begun… Wolfhaven – ground zero – none in this town will survive the wrath of the pack. The first slaughter sparks the beginning of the end for humanity as the Wolfhaven pack descends upon the unsuspecting townsfolk to exact revenge for the killing of one of our own – Pharo, the mother of the pack, once feared and respected by our kind throughout the region, is no more. 

Claude’s plan is bold yet carefully thought out; to spread from Wolfhaven, town by town, village by village, city by city; to rid the world of the human plague and put an end to the desecration of this wondrous planet. It all begins here.

As the ranks swell, the surrounding packs forming alliances and consolidating, select humans are spared annihilation to be turned and assimilated as the moon casts her influence.

Will our beloved Alpha’s grand plan come to fruition? Or, will pettiness, arrogance, and territorial pissing end this war before it begins? I am Shona, first daughter of Pharo, and here my story begins…




Night of the Luniacs

(The First Slaughter)


Terrified, agonised screams echo throughout darkened lanes and blood-soaked streets are littered with mangled human debris. Survivors scramble for the presumed safety of indoors. There is no hiding – no escaping. This is our night. Our glorious night, awash with the radiance of the Moon at her fullest. A night I share with my lupine sisters and brothers, in a bloody orgy of murderous lunacy.

Claude is our Alpha; a charismatic leader, both in human skin and in his true form. He saunters casually through the chaos, swatting nonchalantly at the frantic and piss-weak prey like annoying insects, as the pack rampages through the insultingly named town of Wolfhaven.

Wolfhaven…grrrr. This place isn’t, and hasn’t been for a long time, a haven for our kind. The surrounding forest, our home for hundreds of years, has gradually been decimated and reduced in its splendour to nearly half by these parasitic humans. They have hunted and killed many of our brethren, in their quest for domination of a land that never belonged to them, so now they pay in blood and eviscerated gore.

I am Shona, a fourth generation, pureblood Lycan bitch. Tonight is an especially personal one for me. In fact, this raid is executed in honour of my fallen mother, Pharo. She was the latest casualty, and the unforgivable spark, which has ignited this hellish war on the human population of our territory.

It won’t end here, either. Claude has shared his vision with the pack. It is a plan that will see the demise of the human race, and a welcome end to the raping of this wondrous planet. It begins here, right now in Wolfhaven, and will spread like a plague such as never before seen.


A wretch stumbles and falls at my feet. The sweat of this thing beneath me reeks of fear and panic, intensified as I pin it to the ground under my paw. Mesmerised by the vengeful blaze in my eyes, it remains still, petrified. Only the desperate pounding of its weak heart betrays it as still living.

As my glare burns through its face, my weight slowly pressing on the brittle ribcage, I imagine this one with an entirely different expression as it parades through town with my dead mother held proudly aloft.

This first recipient of my wrath has a look of confusion flickering across the visage of utter terror, its glassy black orbs fixed on my own as I pause. Memories of Pharo inundate me with crashing waves of black emotions, stilling my assault momentarily; my prey, held fast with no hope of escape, can only gape with bated breath and await the inevitable.

Click here to purchase:

Available on Amazon



The Bold Mom Wolvz cover artist and Horror promoter extraordinaire has described this book as such – “This is a beautiful book. Bloody, visceral, gore… beautiful. A melodic slaughter. Crimson honey for your mind.” ~ Mar Garcia-Amorena

TBM-come in

“Toneye has a true talent with his writing of bringing in the darkness & seducing you in its savage language. The mark of a writer who refuses to cater to the whims of the squeamish. I welcome his guts & courage. You should, too.” ~ Bruce Blanchard (Goodreads review)


“Alluring cover art boasting the gifted wordsmith Toneye Eyenot enticed me into purchasing this howling tale.
Artfully crafted bloodshed, slaughter, and carnage made putting it down impossible.” ~ Tamara (Goodreads review)


“Under Your Skin horror! Well Written!
I would call this book eloquent horror poetry! The writing was elegant, the story, horror, the plot intense. I bow to eyenot.” ~ Jo (Goodreads review)


“This story is vivid, spine chilling, gory and visceral. I felt tearful, angry, a bit blood thirsty and spiteful towards the human race as I read the story. “ ~ Lily Lamb (Goodreads review)

 “A tale of wolven vengeance. Eyenot penned a story for true fans of lunar shapeshifters. A quick and brutal read that holds you from start to finish, drenched in blood and gore yet executed with the poetic prose he’s known for. A howling good read!”Chellewolf (Amazon reviewer)


5.0 out of 5 starsDark, Beautifully Written Horror Novel “The anger, violence, and blood lust practically drip off the pages. It’s a strange contrast, but it enhances the book immensely. I give this book top points on all counts.” ~ CLOregon (Amazon reviewer)


5.0 out of 5 starsAmazing


This book is another episode from Toneyes dark and disturbed psyche. Deep, twisted plot that kept me spellbound. Mars illustrations are fantastic. All up a bloody 10/10 ~ Kenny (Amazon reviewer)

Also, a new discovery for me. One of the beta readers for Wolvz: Whispers of War and a fellow Werewolf afficionado, Lou Yardley. She is the author of this fangtastic novel, Hellhound, a finalist in the Independent Author Network Book of the Year Award and a throat ripper of a great yarn! Click on the cover pic here to purchase.


Lou Yardley author pic  Lou had this to say about Wolvz: Whispers of War:

“A werewolf tale that’s not afraid to take huge bites out of its characters. It will claw its way into your mind and leave you begging for more!” ~ Lou Yardley 

Are you ready for WAR? It’s time to cast aside your human skin and enter the world of the WEREWOLF! 

Abysmal Feast

Bibliophilia Templum

Abysmal Feast:
An Agglomeration of Anthropophagic Atrocities
By Toneye Eyenot


Daring and Gruesome

Synopsis Blurb

The human soul’s cavity can only be measured through a spectrum of darkness. The deeper, the more humid and colourless.

The atrocities scrutinizing your most abominable desires creep up on every single thought, escaping the pressure of your attempt to control… your hunger. Ferocious hunger increasing at every pull of the leash.

Do you think you are the one controlling it?
You think wrong.

Content Review

Abysmal Feast by Toneye Eyenot plunges headlong into the taboo subject of cannibalism.  And it takes the reader along with it.  Each of the four stories is unique in premise.  All of the stories are extreme in content.  This collection is not for the faint of heart or stomach.

The stories in Abysmal Feast are expertly and blatantly woven.  They are solid stories with intricate characters and plots.  I…

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Of Nightmare Realities — Bibliophilia Templum

OF NIGHTMARE REALITIES By Toneye Eyenot Haunting Tales of Living Nightmares Synopsis Your vision blurred, body buzzing with exhaustion, flashes of malevolent darkness in the corners of your eyes…they sense you slipping. They are impatiently tugging at your consciousness. You can’t stay awake forever, and when you finally do fall asleep…they will be there, waiting […]

via Of Nightmare Realities — Bibliophilia Templum


Hails ‘n’ Howls, fine Luniakks!

As some of you may be aware, a few moons after starting up Luniakk Publications, and after releasing a few of my short story collections, eye have removed all my previously published books from Amazon, to be re-released here through Luniakk.

These titles include:

The Scarlett Curse: The Sacred Blade of Profanity – Book I 

Joshua’s Folly: The Sacred Blade of Profanity – Book II

Blood Moon Big Top

Wolvz: Whispers of War

With the re-release of Wolvz, and more recently, Blood Moon Big Top (novella featuring in the collection of lycanthropic mayhem, Fangtastic Tales of Werewolf Savagery) plus an impending assemblage of the past 30 years of my poetry accompanied by the dark illustrations of the Luniakk artist, Mar Garcia-Amorena,  an Occult Horror novella, and more short story collections waiting in the wings, the coming moons promise much to torment your sensibilities.

So, while all this brews and bubbles on the Luniakk burner, eye am hard at work, completing the long awaited Book III in The Sacred Blade of Profanity series (title pending).

Here is the prologue and first chapter from Book III as a draft excerpt for your morbid reading pleasure:





(Book III in The Sacred Blade of Profanity series)



The Sacred Blade of Profanity lay loosely in Scarlett’s limp hand. It gorged itself on the Power that coursed through Scarlett, as her awareness lay silent in void. Astra Kirltth had left south from her dwelling, through the northern tip of Mellowood Forest. A few miles down, she would circle east and into the deep forest, in search of Scarlett and the insidious Blade of Power.

In the meantime, The Blade would continue feeding to absolute gluttony, on the torrents of Power that keep Scarlett bound to the world of form. Over time, the depletion would become irreversible, leaving Scarlett to dwell forever in void. With Scarlett gone, the Blade would drain the current until it ceases and then gods only know what might culminate.

The new moon, now only days away, the Ritual of Cleansing must be performed by Scarlett. Even if Astra were to find her, there would be very little linear time to bring her to a full recovery, leaving Scarlett with a very poor chance at surviving, let alone overcoming the Sacred Blade of Profanity throughout the ritual.

The very fate of reality fell squarely into the undoubtedly capable hands of Astra Kirltth.


Chapter 1

It was an exhausted little Dera Harke who broke into the clearing behind her cottage, and went straight to her mother’s resting place to sit with her. She paused, mid crouch by Phenoluh’s grave, noticing it had been tampered with. As she sat, Dera carefully moved aside some of the loose foliage, and released her breath with both relief and sorrow. Her mother was still as she had been left, but somebody had definitely been there.

* * *

That somebody stood in his cellar, in a gradually fading haze of post rage. Two children lay dead, while one remained, cowering beneath the staircase. In his episode of raging insanity, Joshua Melkerin, with the screaming Ellie Horace being dragged around the room, had stomped repeatedly on the head of Gilda Sween until her skull was crushed. He had then taken Ellie’s head in his hands, near twisting it clean from her shoulders.

Peter Menser had never been so beside himself with terror. Joshua’s explosion of blind, insane fury was a truly terrible sight to behold, and the dread sucked the strength straight out of Peter, as he stumbled for cover underneath the stairs.

“Boy, come here… I won’t hurt you.” Joshua stood with his back to the staircase, Ellie Horace laying quiet and still at his feet. Peter couldn’t move. His limbs refused to obey his silent commands to work. The cellar door was shut and Peter wasn’t sure if it was locked or not, but if he’d had the strength, he would have at least tried to make a break for it. Instead, all he could do was cower, away from the dim flicker of the lantern Joshua had brought down with him. Frozen with fear, he watched Joshua between his upheld arms and tried with all his might to blend into the darkness – hopefully even vanish into it.

“Did you hear me, boy? I said come here. I know where you are. I won’t hurt you if you come out now.” As he spoke, Joshua turned slowly around until he stood, looking straight at Peter. He felt like he all of a sudden had a shining ball of light around him, exposing his hiding spot to his captor. Peter was internally frantic, yet visibly immobile, as he battled the paralytic stasis his body was locked in. He was being offered a gift of mercy – his only hope of salvation now – and he was unable to take it. Peter knew if he didn’t act, he would suffer the same fate as the others.

Closing his eyes, Peter willed himself to relax.  Slowly lowering his arms from his face, Peter placed his hands on the floor and pulled himself forward onto his knees as Joshua waited patiently. Now he had calmed down considerably, Joshua was rational enough to realise how absolutely horrifying this was to the boy. As long as the lad remained healthy, he would take good care of this one until the traders arrived. Joshua cringed visibly. To say Jahl-Rin was going to be displeased would be a colossal understatement.

Peter crawled out from beneath the stairs and slowly rose to face the psychopath awaiting him. He stood still and became locked in a terrifying gaze with Joshua, once again unable to move forward.

“Come here, boy. You’re going to help me. It’s ok. I’m not going to kill you, provided you do as I say.”

Peter took one shaky step forward, then another. He moved stiffly as he tried to brush off the fear. Every step was an eternity. He felt as if in a dream, where you run and run, yet don’t seem to be able to get anywhere. He had to look at his feet to be sure he was actually advancing.

“I’ll take this one,” Joshua tilted his head at Ellie, “and you take the other,” he said with a swing of his head toward Gilda. Peter looked over to the girl, and promptly emptied his stomach on the floor. He hadn’t seen Gilda from his position beneath the steps, as her life was savagely stamped out. Her jaw looked elongated and one of her eyes hung, loose but still attached, from the socket. Blood covered her grossly disfigured face, and the top of her skull was a squashed, bloody and brainy mess.

“Well, here. You have this one. She’s smaller anyway. We’re going to take them upstairs and you’re going to behave, do you understand? Now, get over here and stop dawdling!”

* * *

Dera still sat by her mother’s grave, The Mirror placed on the ground between her feet. She rested her chin on her knees and gazed absently into the glass. All the many years that Dera had spent, playing with her friends unseen, visiting wonderful realms and bending reality to her intent, began to elucidate for the child. These weren’t mere games. These were lessons in Power. When the time had come – Dera’s moment of reckoning – everything she had learnt went straight out the window.

The Sacred Blade of Profanity had been too powerful in its imposition on the child. Dera had been reduced to not much more than a frightened little girl. She hadn’t thought once to use the Mirror, nor any of her learned skills, to direct events to a more fortunate outcome. The vile Blade of Power had taken hold of Dera, but it wasn’t able to retain its command. The Mirror had protected her. She didn’t have it with her when she’d collided with Scarlett in the dark, nor when the Blade made its way into her hand and then into the flesh of her dear mother. Dera turned her head at this realisation, and let her gaze fall to Phenoluh’s makeshift burial plot.

The little girl’s vision degraded into a glistening blur as her eyes filled with tears. Only hours before, Phenoluh was nothing more than a fading memory to the girl – a passing stranger. Dera was now re-living the events in her mind, all the way back from the Mills Wall marketplace to the present moment. Everything that had happened, everything she had done, presented Dera with a clear, unblemished view of the reality that she had effectively eluded up to this point.

The Prii remained in shadow. It was crucial that Dera faced this trial alone. In a most cruel and unfortunate way, this was Dera Harke’s coming of age.

They watched intently from the shadows of Dera’s mind. This was to be a pivotal moment in the child’s development. She was either going to break, or find her resolve, and all they were consented to do in this instance was observe. Dera was now completely alone. A reality which, as it dawned on her for the first time in its entirety, pushed the young girl into an abyss of overwhelming isolation. She wondered anxiously where the Prii were, and why they weren’t there to reassure her, as they normally would be when she needed them most.

Had it not been for the unwavering discipline of the Prii, they surely would have shirked their responsibility as teacher, and given Dera the companionship her soul so desperately cried out for. Their collective heart ached for their dear friend, but to interfere now would only jeopardise their young apprentice and leave her ill-equipped for what lay ahead. She picked up the Mirror and searched the depths of the enchanted glass for her friends, but they remained unseen.

Instead, images began to swirl into formation within Dera’s awareness. The images transposed onto the surface of the Mirror, pulling Dera into a vacuous expanse of uncharted mind. The Prii silently applauded this feat, watching the child in earnest as she abandoned her earthly woes, and set about exploring this new realm that existed within her psyche.

A solitary light within an infinite darkness, Dera Harke was like a beacon announcing her presence to the Harrilluin. This was a precedent in the history of the Mirror. None before her had successfully navigated their awareness to this extent. Dera and the Mirror essentially became One, which re-established a link with the ancient sorcerers of Harrilluin, severed from the time it had first changed hands. None before Dera were in possession of the Mirror long enough to form a bond quite like that which the child had accomplished.

Dera had the distinct notion the darkness in which she found herself was in fact, the inky black pupil of a ridiculously immense eye. At this thought, she felt herself getting larger by the moment. Light began to creep in from the periphery, bit by little bit. The child let go of her focus and instinctively allowed herself to go mentally limp, resulting in an accelerated expansion that made Dera feel ill. A chill raced through her and she felt her body returning to physical form, as the darkness that surrounded her shrank rapidly and seemed to retract to a pinpoint in her left eye.

In an instant, Dera found herself once again standing, only metres away from the mysterious figure she had encountered in her meditation, back at the tree in Mills Wall. Only this time, instead of the spongy, incorporeal realm, Dera was standing on solid earth.

* * *

Tummel advanced towards the girl, with more than a hint of curiosity. When he had intuited the arrival of a being in this realm, he had half expected it to be the young girl. He was nonetheless surprised when he found it to be so. This was the cloaked realm of the Harrilluin, and nobody outside of their order had ever found their way in, let alone knew with certainty of its existence. Tummel slowly began to realise he had found the Bearer of the Mirror.

Dera stood fast and watched him approach. She felt extremely weighed down, as though gravity was magnified tenfold. The ground beneath her feet felt painfully hard, sending a dull ache up her legs, which continued throughout her body. The man advancing towards her seemed to move with ease, as if gravity was of no consequence to him. The sorcerer saw Dera’s energy waning and hastened to her.

“Avert your eyes, girl,” he said. “Don’t hold your focus on anything here for more than a few moments. This is not your world, and your energy body is not accustomed to its ambiance. Keep your attention in fleeting motion or you will perish. To die here is to die in your own world.”

Dera obediently looked down at her feet. The ground seemed to pulsate with energy and she became transfixed. Tummel rushed to the child and caught her, just as she began to collapse.

“Look at me, child,” said Tummel, urgently. Grabbing her shoulders, the sorcerer held Dera upright. “Look into my eyes and empty your thoughts.”

Dera tried with all her might to raise her head, but her energy was draining at an alarming rate. Tummel lifted her head and caught her gaze, holding it with a fierce intent.

“You must remain empty, child. There are worlds within worlds within my eyes. Search for your Power, but don’t become obsessed. There is much you don’t know about this realm, and I am still at a loss as to why or even how you have come to be here. I can help you but you must remain empty.”

Dera looked into the strange man’s eyes. They glowed with Power and indeed seemed to hold within them, an untold number of layers. Each layer, a doorway to another, which Dera found to be soothing and energising. Tummel continued to hold her gaze as the child searched for, and began to find her Power. Her inexperience however, caused Dera to involuntarily obsess. No sooner had she begun to regain her energy, her internal chatter distracted her from her purpose, and it would once again slip back towards oblivion.

Dera knew exactly what the man meant by ‘remain empty’, but that seemed impossible to the child. As she struggled to keep her strength, her thoughts began to dominate the silence that her mind required to survive this place. Dera was losing the battle as each moment passed. Tummel had to act fast. He smoothed one hand down Dera’s face, coaxing her eyes to close, and she began to fall for what seemed like forever, though it was but an instant. When she opened her eyes, Dera was once again in the world of form, but not where, nor when she had been when she left.