“Fiction with more than just heart.
You can feel its pulse, too.”
Featured Stories
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With no idea where he is or how he came to be there, Anton attempts to piece together the fragments of his fractured memory.
Fern undertakes a journey she has made all her life – a pilgrimage to the Reef. But where once blossomed a garden, a sanctuary, a community; now lies a ruin.
Walking the Moor is a favourite pastime for Gwen and her family. But among the pristine grassland and placid animals lies the gateway to a world like no other.
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2026 is shaping up to be a big year for new releases, with a collection of Short Stories set to drop, along with Casey’s first full Novel
… and that is only the beginning.
Who is Casey B. Knight?
Casey B. Knight writes stories.
Some stories are short. Others take a longer form, and are better known as novels.
Where do these stories come from?
It is a question Casey is frequently asked – and not a question straightforward to answer. For Casey’s mind is often wandering, absent; and such questions are better answered by these manifest characteristics of the mind rather than by the mind itself.
Being allowed to wander so relieves Casey’s sole dependence on drawing inspiration from personal experience. Due to the grisly nature of many of Casey’s stories, one could reasonably consider this to be a very fortuitous happenstance.
Of course, there are some happy stories too; and Casey would contend that these stories alone are the stories that do draw from personal experience.
In other words, life is pretty rosy for Casey B. Knight. And one should hope so, too; for the northern beaches of Sydney by which Casey resides is not a place which should breed desolate thoughts. From a lofty apartment, Casey watches the tides – of waves, of people, of emotions – and, from here, crafts new and exciting stories for the world to enjoy (or endure).
Readers will find Stories of Love; Stories of Gloom; Stories of Hope; Stories of Loss; Stories of Laughter; Stories of Adventure. And, for some inexplicable reason, a risible collection of snippets, which any righteous laureate would correctly decry as a very distant cousin to something which said laureate could exalt as “Poetry”.
One day, Casey B. Knight will make it to that apartment in Sydney.
Until then, Grimsby will have to suffice.