author

"Crank up your Imagination"

BIO
Scott A. Cook is Artistic Producer of the professional musical theatre company, TheatreWorks Florida. The critically acclaimed company has won numerous awards from the National Endowment for the Arts and Broadway World. At 58 years old, he has created over 180 stories for the stage. After years of working in theatre, Scott is now following his dream of writing. Transitioning from stage to page seems a natural progression; a stage director pays immense attention to detail, just as an author does of any well written story. His favored genre is dark horror fiction in the vein of Stephen King, Dean Koontz and H.P. Lovecraft.

"I write because I am a born storyteller. I hope my stories incite conversation. Terrifying monsters or matters of the soul, we all have something to learn just by talking."
COMING SOON

FEATURED • UPCOMING BOOK
"Hot Mess: The Adventures of
a CIDP Anomaly"
CLICK for BOOK SYNOPSIS
Hot Mess: The Adventures of a CIDP Anomaly is the touching, triumphant, and at times irreverent, true survival tale of Scott A. Cook and what happened to his life, his career and his purpose when a doctor sent him home to Google his rare, incurable neurological diagnosis of Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyradiculoneuropathy (CIDP).
Left standing on the corner of screwed and fucked, Scott begins his journey down the uncharted road of a rare, incurable disease, meeting friends along the winding path who help him in ways he never knew he needed. Armed with loving smiles and raw determination, they all learn life lessons only found in the misty mountains of the unknown as they search for a new normal that keeps changing from day to day.
Sometimes hysterical, sometimes poignant, always resilient, Hot Mess: The Adventures of a CIDP Anomaly is not only for all the CIDP Warriors out there kickin’ ass but for anyone who needs a good laugh, a moment of insight and a big shit shot of hope.

"There is a dark voice between the soul that seeks and the words that speak. I have found that voice. I pray you never do."
AVAILABLE NOW
SHORT STORIES
The following three short stories are a part of an original anthology series of twisted, unexpected seasonal dark fiction called FEARBOOK: VOL. 1 – FRESHMAN EDITION.

Autumn Folk
When a disabled man encounters a masked spirit called The Man in his own backyard, reality twists into a nightmarish landscape. But are the terrifying visions in the tree line The Man’s fault or something else entirely? Endings are just the beginning.
Autumn Folk
Autumn had arrived. The temperature had dropped. The nights were longer. Halloween was a smell that was in the air all the time for me but especially now; a smell of expectation that some devilish demon would finally appear to me. Spooky holiday candles were lit and a scary movies playlist was fired up every night, giving me a heightened sense of some gruesome, fearful reality. The big “what if” of the tree line was so prominent in my mind from watching those horror films, dripping its delicious dread of bad outcomes.
The tree line. It had never changed in twenty years, however, every autumn, after all the summer rains had ceased, the overgrowth flourished thick, always needing a trim. Not to look spiffy but so I could see. See if anything was crouched there between the palms and the pineapples in a nondescript mask and greasy overalls, wielding a sharp kitchen knife ready to descend upon my Sanctuary. Come up the three wooden steps, slash open the screen door, methodically step inside and slice me up like an old-fashioned pumpkin pie. AKA Michael Myers (a whole other nightmare story).
What would it be like to feel that massive blade pierce your skin? Slide down to your heart or liver or lungs and pull you to the floor, crippled or not, so you could watch your life seeping out of you into dark pools of blood. Warm? Painful? Satisfying? Guess it would depend if you accepted the moment or fought the inevitable darkness. Only those without vision would make the wrong decision. Evil is not extinguishable.
Yes. Autumn was here. So were the Autumn Folk. Everywhere but only if you were not afraid to let them in.
The Four Pillars
Amidst the festivities of Mardi Gras, Nellie becomes the target of racist harassment. When her loyal best friend comes to her defense, they end up cornered in an abandoned warehouse and must summon mysterious forces to give them the courage to fight back and escape. Will they overcome or submit to their assailants' deadly intentions? Now is the hour of Black Carne Valé. Farewell to the Flesh.
The Four Pillars
It was the season of the Mardi Gras. Christian mourning and Pagan rituals. A white witch's black cauldron seething over with cultural traditions centuries old. The Black Zulu krewe gathered in the French Quarter, electrified and transformed in ceremonial dress. Their king, Rex Zulu, led them in sacred voodoo prayer. Tonight, they would honor Black Carne Valé. Farewell to the Flesh.
“You betta run, girl!” yelled Frank Cass. His voice boomed through the barren trees of the thicket like a giant male grizzly bear. He was a big black man, muscular for his age and ravenous with anger. He carried a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his right hand.
Nellie, Frank’s daughter, was running for her life through the boggy ground faster and harder than anytime she could remember. Pink-purple dusk was fading fast into night, taking the light with it. Rough branches of the thicket had ripped her flower pattern dress twice, leaving trickles of blood running down her legs. She prayed to the Lord her baby was ok. Twenty-one years old, six months pregnant, bare foot, wild curly hair and carrying all she owned in a homemade satchel. She was running. Running from her daddy. Running towards Miss Cherry.
It wasn't her fault. She played it over and over in her mind so many times just to be sure. Had she dressed too sexy? Had she worn too much make-up? Had she wanted it to happen, after all? The answer was no to all the above.
She was just a young girl in the wrong place at the wrong time.


Naughty or Nice
Ten-year-old Luke, obsessed with Christmas, is lured into a forbidden forest after a mysterious encounter during his village’s Santa parade. There, strange snow-creatures reveal disturbing secrets about his family's dark holiday traditions. When he returns home, he must decide if he’ll carry on the familial lie—or break the cycle and choose for himself what it means to be Naughty or Nice.
Naughty or Nice
Funny looking, old-fashioned people, like street singers from A Christmas Carol, were making their way toward him on the sidewalk. They were giving out candy and talking with children. Zachary ducked them and suddenly thought he recognized his father from the back, watching the parade. He pushed forward. Closer to the street. Closer. Closer.
Zachary stepped off the curb and fell backwards into the road. A huge Cricket by The Hearth float was almost on top of him. He put his hands over his eyes, ready to be stepped on by horses' hooves or hit by big rolling wheels. Out of nowhere, he felt a large, furry hand pull him straight up and onto the sidewalk. Back to safety.
Zachary turned to look at his hero and unexpectedly gasped.
It was a man dressed in a full-length brownish robe made completely of fur, constructed in patches from neck to foot. The collar was a very thick texture, and had pine cones running side to side. The robe had a hood with two battered deer antlers attached. On his back was a huge, dirty white sack filled with something heavy enough to make him hunch over. Strange and odd, he smelled of old-fashioned licorice taffy.
It wouldn't have been so staggering had it not been for the figure's face. Zachary could barely discern its features beneath the hood. The figure was completely covered in soot. His eyes were almost perfect circles of black so deep, Zachary couldn't tell if there were actual eyes in the sockets. His skin was pale white and rough, his nose longer than normal and pointed. He had a thin smile that revealed misplaced teeth, almost like a beaver. In his right hand was a bundle of large birch twigs the size of a wooden walking staff, wrapped in red ribbons. Tiny bells accented his fur, antlers and birch twigs, making an ethereal ring every time he shifted. On the twigs were streaks of a deep color that Zachary couldn't decipher. The fur man was all at once a saint and a demon. The antithesis of Santa Claus. Dark Sinterklaas.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here, my lovely?" said the fur man in a creepy, slow, guttural voice.
IN PRODUCTION
NEW NOVELS
They are being completed for publication in 2026 and 2027.

Heir Apparent
Heir Apparent is the story of Nicholas Ford, a young savant from a rural town, who races against time with his school friends to stop a satanic cult at his private Catholic high school. The cult is hellbent on finding an ancient religious relic on their property that will release AI demons from centuries past into our world. Will evil finally conquer good and turn our world into an apocalypse full of sentient AI creatures?
Pas de Deux
Pas de Deux is the fairytale turned nightmare story of Lindsay Prom, a highly successful principle ballerina for the New York City Ballet who has every artist's dream life but remains strangely tethered to her forboding childhood home, Chateau Avalon, and her toxic, aristocratic stepmother, Helene Ravenwood. As Lindsey becomes more famous, Helene begins a terrifying game of cat and mouse to trap her within the walls of the chateau and reveals the real reason she has become a rising star.
