Please help me welcome today’s guest, Shaelynn Long…
Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?
I’m originally from Coleman, Michigan, which is a small town in the central part of the Lower Peninsula. I currently live in Boyne City, Michigan, which is another small town, but I’m a lot further north! My partner, our son, and I moved up here a few years ago for a job opportunity, and there are some days I can’t believe it’s real. It’s such a great place to live, and our three dogs enjoy the space we’ve been able to acquire.
Tell us a little about how the book came to be…
Fury’s Fate was born out of a writing exercise I was doing to work on descriptions, but I just fell absolutely in love with the main character, Olivia. I set her story aside for many years, though, as I worked to establish my career and start my family. I’ve always written fantasy and knew that was where this book belonged—I just needed to create the right world.
In the midst of a neurodivergent obsession with Greek mythology, I found so many myths that really helped me to not only create this world but a deep backstory for Olivia, who is one of the three ancient Furies (the Alekto). In my gut, I suddenly knew where she belonged. Using a lot of the research that I did, I pieced together even more of who Olivia is, and her current life-state (which is the catalyst for the actions we see her taking in the book) became not only real to me but also something I wanted to explore. One question really bugged me: What happens if an immortal being experiences what we humans call “a mid-life crisis”? Unfortunately for Olivia, the book ends up showcasing what happens.
The most difficult thing about the writing of this book is that it was the first novel-length manuscript I’ve tried to tackle. I’ve written poetry, creative nonfiction, and short stories, but the scale of this project was daunting!
Do you have another occupation, other than writer? If so, what is it and do you like it?
I’m an English instructor at a community college, and I adore it. I’m lucky enough to teach writing, literature, and creative writing, and it’s just… it’s the best job in the world. I love working with learners. They bring so much energy and light to my life, and there’s nothing more fulfilling to me than hearing them speak confidently about themselves as writers and readers. Teaching can be really hard—there are days it feels impossible—but it’s such important work, and I am so grateful that it’s what I do for a living.
What’s your favorite book of all time and why? What’s your favorite childhood book?
This might be a really expected answer now that you know what I do for a living, but my favorite novel is Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen. Her ability to write damaged characters capable of growth was superb. No one’s perfect in her world—they’re far from it, and I think it can be hard as a writer to not want our darlings to make the right decisions and say the right words. But characters are so much more interesting when they make mistakes. What’s strange about my love for the novel, though, is that I hated it the first time I read it. I picked it up several years later and could not, for the life of me, figure out what I thought was wrong with it. It was so good! But that had such a fantastic impact on my thinking about books. I’m not afraid to put down a book and return later to see if I feel differently about it.
My favorite childhood book was The Secret Garden. It had everything! There was a sad main character with an attitude, a mystery to unravel, slightly scary things occurring, trauma. I just fell in love with it. I own several copies of it now, and I had the gate to the garden (as it looks in my mind) tattooed on my arm a few years ago.
What actors would you like in the main roles if your book were made into a movie?
Casting my books like they’re films/movies is actually something I do to start writing. It gives me a concrete image to write with that I’ve found to be really helpful.
Here’s the cast of Fury’s Fate (if I was lucky enough for this novel to be made into a movie):
Olivia: Megan Fox
Gabrielle: Kat Dennings
Leslie: Anya Taylor-Joy
Evangeline: Maggie Q
Demetrius: Djimon Hounsou
The Fates: Brenda Song
Allison: Rachelle Lefevre
Alex: Theo James
Fabian: Michael Malarkey
Your most prized material possession? Why?
I have a silver pinky ring from my paternal grandmother that I received after she passed away. It’s very simple—just a silver band—but it reminds me of her. She was a force to be reckoned with. An absolute ball of energy, that woman. Her work ethic, her sass, her stubbornness, and her grace—I just want to embody even a scrap of it. I miss her.
Have you written any other books that are not published?
I have! I have written a book of poetry that will be out in early 2026. Wild Ink, who published Fury’s Fate, is also publishing this. It’s called wild thing. It explores the feral nature of human beings, revealing vulnerability, heartache, confidence, and ultimately, what it’s like being a female-presenting human doing what they have to in order to survive.
I’ve also recently written a romantasy, tentatively titled Court of the Unwanted. Its future is a bit up in the air right now, in terms of where it’ll land, but I’m describing it as spicy Hunger Games with fairies.
Who is the most famous person you have ever met?
Emmy Rossum and Emma Kenney, who were very kind and gracious enough to take a photo with me. I was in Chicago for a work conference, and we’d taken a dinner break at a restaurant. I looked up and saw someone walk in—and I just knew they seemed familiar. Then she was joined by Emma Kenney! Turns out they were in Chicago filming “Shameless.” I spent the rest of the meal trying to work up the confidence to say hello to them. Looking back, as lovely as it was to meet both of them, I feel bad that I interrupted dinner. The poor girls were just trying to eat.
How did you come up with the title?
My editor, Brittany McMunn. I’d given the book a tentative title, as one does, but the vibes weren’t right, so Brittany tossed a few ideas at me. Fury’s Fate was one of them. I liked the alliteration and the word play with the idea of “fury,” since Olivia is both a fury and pretty angry. It felt right, so I went with it.
Your favorite…
Movie: The 2005 version of Pride & Prejudice. Total comfort film.
Music: Currently? Sleep Token. All day. Generally? It’s a very long list. Here are a few loves: Trixie Mattel, Sam Smith, Ed Sheeran, Lifehouse, Rocky Votolato, Billie Eilish, Fletcher, The Pretty Reckless, Yungblud, MGK.
Place you’d like to visit: If I’m being realistic, Los Angeles, CA. My brother lives there, and I’ve never visited. But if we’re talking bucket list locations, I desperately want to visit Ireland.
TV show from adulthood: New Girl or Lost Girl. Both are comfort shows.
Food: Potatoes. What a fabulous food. So versatile. Delicious.
Sports team: My kid’s soccer club. I’m not really into sports, per se, but I love seeing how into soccer my son has gotten. I’m even sort of learning the rules.
Which do you prefer: Board games/card games or television? TV.
I enjoyed the interview…thank you for being my guest. Potatoes definitely are a versatile food. 🙂And, so cool that you met Emma and Emmy and they were gracious.
The bodies piling up in Detroit were a problem. Humans were asking too many questions. How could they not? Spectacularly vicious crimes were splashed across their screens. They were an imaginative species, the humans, and their imaginations were rapidly removing the cloak we’d hidden ourselves under. Beyond that, too many people had disappeared or been turned against their will for The Twelve to ignore what was happening. As one of the three Furies, I was to send Roland’s spirit to Tartarus, one of the Hell realms—a place for the spirits of Creatures who had been deemed unworthy of Earth.
We did not feel regret, nor did we feel pity. It was not our way. We were created to exist as an arm of Justice, and so we did.
I felt nothing as I stared at Roland. It was not a cold nothingness like what I often felt; this nothingness cleared my mind and readied it for what it might see when I reached out to the vampire. For true judgment, I needed the clarity. Seconds later, after I’d sifted through his mind, I knew what was necessary. There was no bringing Roland back from the edge. He’d made his decision and plunged himself into the madness that too often consumed those of his kind. The victims this vampire had strewn about throughout the years were too clearly seen as I peered inside. In his memories, I heard their cries, saw their tears, and felt their fear as he attacked without mercy.
With a cruel smile I knew had spread across my features, showing off the length of my incisors, I moved.
Almost instantly, I was behind Roland, pulling him from the bed and away from the young woman. I pushed him to his knees. Though I was deadly, I hardly looked it, and I welcomed the surprise he felt at my strength. The Creature populations knew we existed, but many did not recognize the faces we wore until it was too late.
For thousands of years, through thousands of lifetimes, that had been my duty as the Alekto, alongside my sisters, the Megaera and the Tisiphone. In this era, we were known as Olivia, Leslie, and Gabrielle Beckett—a trio of assassins, to put it simply—to be guided and guarded by the also-immortal Guardian, Evangeline. We, the Furies, gleefully delivered justice. Our Guardian kept us safe and gave us a point of contact should we need to speak with the Steward, or, if all Hell broke loose, The Twelve.
We attempted to disguise ourselves anew in each century. The Twelve quietly called us forth from the depths so long ago that I had no memory of when or where it all began. We were molded into what was required. So it was, and so it must be.
I felt Roland try to turn and look at me. He quickly reassessed his assumptions, and I smiled maliciously. I was a living nightmare, a horror story told to newborn vampires in hopes of curbing the bloodthirst that haunted them. I was sure my entrance allowed Roland to convince himself I was nothing more than a rogue vampire looking to claim riches and territory. The underestimation was a common mistake—one I almost relished. It made my job that much easier. I nestled into the cold, dark abyss of my soul and welcomed the familiarity.
There was no need to ready myself for what duty called on me to do. In that dark part of my being, I celebrated.
Shaelynn Long is a 2023 Pushcart Prize nominee. Their fantasy novel, Fury’s Fate, debuted from Wild Ink Publishing in 2023. That project is currently being turned into an audiobook! Shaelynn is also partnering with Wild Ink Publishing on a 2025 fairy tale anthology, titled Wickedness & Wonder.
The fourth series of Friday the 13th horror short stories is now available. In each, a murder takes place or a body is found on Friday the 13th. See if you can spot the other recurring elements. Dive into these short horror reads and have a frightfully great time!
****** Only 99 cents until the witching hour when the price goes up! (Well, until around midnight :))
For the series buy link, click on the below:
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Spit on a grave by Tamrie Foxtail
Fun Fact:
When I was in high school there was a cemetery across the street. It may sound odd, but it was a quiet place to study and walk. And there was that one mysterious headstone…off by itself…broken….
About Spit on a Grave:
No one likes a bully and Kiera’s tormented by four of them. But Kiera knows something they don’t. She knows how to turn the tormentors into the tormented.
Snippet:
“Audrey’s right,” Makayla said. “This is spooky. Why can’t we just say we went?”
“Because we have to post a picture,” Jenna said. “With the time.” She pointed to her right. “Kiera said the grave is over there in the corner, under the oak tree.”
They walked two abreast, dead leaves crunching beneath their feet and the full moon playing hide-and-seek through bare branches.
“There,” Alissa said, pointing at the lonely stone. She motioned for the other three to follow.
“Do we just take a picture standing in front of the grave?” Audrey asked.
“We’re supposed to spit on it,” Makayla said.
“That so disrespectful,” Jenna said.
Alissa shrugged. “Who cares? She was a child killer.” Alissa turned on her camera and aimed it at the stone. “Here we are in front of the grave of Barbara Dawn Callan,” she said in a spooky voice. “So scary. Not.” She made certain she was in the video, turned and spit on the grave. “There you go Barbara Dawn. Come and get me.”
Makayla followed. “Waiting for you, Barbara Dawn,” she taunted.
About the author:
Tamrie Foxtail followed her husband from the Sunshine State to the Sooner State thirty years ago. She loves carousels, reading, her family, and her fur babies.
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Soulless by Alicia Dean
Fun Fact:
When I write, I like to pay homage to things I love or that are personal to me. In Soulless, there are several scattered throughout:
The name of the town is Pleasence, after Donald Pleasence who played Dr. Loomis in the Halloween movie franchise.
A nearby town is called Boone Springs, which is the name of the town in my grim reaper romance, Soul Seducer.
My sheriff is Rosalyn (Roz) Grimes, and Rick Grimes is my favorite character in Walking Dead, and Roz is from one of my favorite sitcoms, Frasier.
Of course, I mention Elvis, though briefly.
And, I mention MLB, although at the time I wrote it, I didn’t realize that no post season game would be happening on Friday, although in the story I say there is.
And, lastly (I think), my bad guy’s name, Dearil, means ‘call of death.’
About Soulless:
When Sheriff Rosalyn Grimes shoots and kills the serial killer who is holding her daughter captive, she thinks the ordeal is over and her town is safe. But a rash of new murders plunges them right back into the nightmare—is there a copycat on the loose or, even more terrifying, has the same murderer come back to life?
Snippet:
He was only ten feet away, and she was suddenly afraid to go any closer. He gave off a bad vibe…as if just his being naked in the middle of the road wasn’t a bad vibe enough. No, there was something about this guy she wanted no part of. Screw it, she’d definitely call the police. And grab her gun while she waited for them.
She backed away, keeping her eye on him, but still, he didn’t move. She turned and hurried to her porch. She was twisting the knob when a smell like death assailed her nostrils. Fear choked her, and she whirled to see the man looming behind her. How had he gotten here so quickly?
She fumbled for the door and managed to get it open, then hurried inside. When she went to slam the door shut, he shoved it open from the other side and sent her tumbling to the floor.
He stalked over to her. “Let me in, little piggy.” His harsh voice rumbled out of him like a death rattle.
Shivers raced over her skin. “What do you want?” she managed to get past the lump of fear in her throat. “My husband’s upstairs, and he’s got a gun.”
His grotesque mouth lifted in the parody of a smile. “Don’t lie to me, Bethy. Your husband’s out of town. I need his clothes.”
The moon outside the window passed from behind the clouds, illuminating his features, and she gasped with recognition.
About the Author:
Oklahoma author, Alicia Dean, has an unhealthy fascination with murder and all things creepy and disturbing. On a lighter note, she’s a lifelong Elvis fan, loves the NFL and MLB, and hardly ever makes her darkly disturbing fascinations a reality.
Some friends and I attended a forensic class at a Skeleton Museum. We were given a skull and instructions on how to determine the cause of death. It was interesting to go through the steps anthropologists and forensic scientists go through to determine age, sex and physical trauma. Skeletons really can tell a story of a person’s life.
About The Widower:
Lucy Cable has an inexplicable talent for reading bones—she can look at a skull and see the person’s face. While touring a local bone museum, she notices a skeleton on display and is horrified to identify it as her missing friend. When another murder takes place, Lucy realizes a maniac is in their midst. Can she figure out how to stop him before her snooping around puts her next on his list?
Snippet:
“I didn’t think the museum would have this effect on you. Seriously, I just thought it would be a fun party.”
“I’m fine,” Lucy said. “I just need to sit down for a bit.”
“Ok, if you don’t mind, I’m going to find Cora.”
“Knock yourself out.” Lucy headed for an empty bench across the room. She was almost there when a sight stopped her short. She couldn’t have seen what she thought she had. It couldn’t be. Slowly, she pivoted on her heels. She had to be imagining things. She walked toward the single skeleton in the far corner of the room.
She put her hands on the glass and stared at the figure allowing the flesh to layer in her mind. There was no mistaking it. The same pert nose. The high cheekbones. The perfectly shaped rosebud lips. Add the blue eyes and long blonde hair. It was Maeve. Her mind spun with the implications. She’d seen her last night and now her skeleton was on display. “Oh, Maeve.”
“Now, what do you think of my museum?” Professor Porter beamed down at her. Lucy looked into the eyes of a killer.
About the Author:
Krysta Scott is the author of the novel, Shadow Dancer. Since publishing her first book through the Wild Rose Press, she has since published two novellas in the Martini Club 4 series and three novellas in the Friday the Thirteenth series. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband, daughter and dog.
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The Boy in the Bubble by Stephen B. King
Fun Fact:
This story was inspired by meeting someone who spent his childhood as a true boy in the bubble due to severe allergies that would kill him if he left it. Later in life, when he gained some immunities, though he still has to lead a sheltered life, he suffered a hernia and the operations went wrong. We can all be grateful that he didn’t have the telekinetic power Timothy does in the story……
About The Boy in the Bubble:
Timothy has spent his life in a bubble which protects him from fatal allergies. But nature always compensates and Timothy has developed incredible telekinetic powers. When a simple hernia operation goes wrong causing him unbearable, non-stop agony, Timothy strikes back the only way he knows how by reigning death and destruction.
Snippet
Much later, when Joseph recalled the incident, he realized their attacker suddenly resembled a marionette operated by a manic puppeteer. As the man reeled backward away from the cab, his hand, which held the switchblade, trembled as it turned toward his own stomach. The man seemed to be fighting with an invisible bodyguard, and he grasped his right wrist with his left hand to try to stop the knife from stabbing into his own body. But he was fighting a losing battle, and the blade disappeared into his stomach as he screamed a blood-curdling yell which ended with an even louder shriek.
“No,” Joseph shouted frantically, “Timothy, stop.”
The man jerked the knife out, and a squirt of blood arced toward the open door, some hitting Miriam’s skirt. “Arggghhhhhh,” the mugger exclaimed and looked directly into Joseph’s eyes as the knife re-entered an inch higher, then again, and again, repeatedly until he fell to the sidewalk, shaking and kicking his legs in pain before passing into unconsciousness.
About the Author:
I am thrilled, and deeply humbled to have published 17 books. Though my first love is psychological thrillers featuring the worst serial killers imaginable, I have also written romantic thrillers, horror stories and even a time-travel romantic thriller where the protagonist comes back in time to save the world, and falls in love. Find me on FB: @stephenbkingauthor
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A Wicked Fate Mark Edward Jones
Fun Fact
I like to pluck quotes from Shakespeare’s different works and in Hamlet I found ‘Our wills and fates do so contrary run.’ I wanted to show a bit of the killers’ perspectives in this story. Can the young female antagonist, Miomir, resist her destiny, or will her uncle force her to accept her fate?
About A Wicked Fate:
Miomir ìl Kurić desires money, power, and to be feared, while unburdened by her past. Her Uncle Karanosz insists she remains a part of their unique family, one which harbors special skills … and connections to evil.
Snippet:
The ancient granite structure no longer offered Christian worshipers a place for gathering in southern Vienna. The Catholic Church abandoned then sold St. Ezekiel—some said because the hauntings had never ceased. A half-century earlier, the Jews of Vienna had been herded like cattle into the old church before transport to Mauthausen or one of its surrounding camps. The church sat empty for decades, an outcast building with broken stained glass, dusty pews and altars, and fading memories of the long-ago tragedy.
Two people had claimed a portion of the former church. A man with a fedora in his lap leaned back into a cushioned love seat, his head tilted upward with eyes shut. A young woman paced the living area, clenching an unlit cigarette between her lips.
Miomir stared and yanked the cigarette from her mouth. “Comfortable?” she asked, staring at her resting uncle. “Two dead, and now we are the hunted again.”
Tasev sighed and sat forward. “Dear Miomir, I cannot believe you let it happen.” He shook his head. “There will be many questions about the condition of the body. If someone knows your … abilities, they will identify you.”
About the Author:
Mark retired from higher education finance in 2017. He is working on his third detective mystery, has written three paranormal short stories, and has completed the first chapter of a proposed sci-fi mystery.
One morning, during the writing process of SHARE my grandson and I went on a bicycle ride through town. On our way home, our path led us beside an abandoned building with an entire wall missing. We could see something inside and climbed onto the crumbling foundation to get a better look. There, standing alone, was one single piece of furniture–a baby cradle complete with bedding. In contrast to the surroundings, the cradle was in perfect condition. The scene absolutely took my breath away, because of the similarities to my existing book cover–so much so, I snapped this picture with my phone.
About SHARE:
Expectant mother, Autumn, offers to lend her body through “lend and borrow” technology to her childless boss and mentor, Sadie, who longs to experience the movement of a child within her before she dies. However, Autumn is horrified to learn that her good intentions have warranted certain death for her unborn child. Sadie doesn’t like to share.
Snippet:
“Wow,” Autumn breathed, stopping in her tracks. “Look at that.” She pointed to a large painting of a crying infant whose colorful—was it a soul?—descended from the sky, entering the child, filling its small body with light. A Not For Sale sign was attached to the ornate frame.
Sadie approached, touching Autumn’s arm. “How far along are you?”
She turned slowly toward her. “Almost five months. But most people are surprised when I tell them. How did you know?”
“I just knew.”
“Do you have children?”
“Actually, no. I’ve had three miscarriages, each at around twelve weeks gestation. Shortly after the last one, our house burned down, and my husband died in the fire. No children, no husband. It’s just me and my shop. Loss is so painful.”
“That is heartbreaking.” Autumn wrapped an arm around Sadie. “Your husband is waiting in heaven for you. Your babies are there, too.”
“I wish that were true. But my children never drew their first breath, therefore they never received a soul.” She looked up at the painting. “The soul is granted by God when a newborn child takes its very first breath. The soul is precious. Reserved for children who thrive outside the womb, not those who merely exist inside it.”
“You said yourself it was painful to lose your children,” Marlene piped in, her words bristling with irritation.
“Extremely painful. But even more painful was the acknowledgement that each of those small, lifeless bodies lacked a soul.”
The breath whooshed from Autumn’s lungs. She steadied herself against a sturdy-looking bookcase as Marlene put an arm around her and glared at Sadie. “Seriously, lady? What you said goes way beyond polite conversation.”
“I’m sorry—”
About the Author:
Anna is a screenwriter, freelance writer, and fiction writer with twelve books in publication and over a dozen articles/stories featured in Writers’ Digest, Southern Writers, and Woman’s World magazine. She was named “Oklahoma’s Best Author of 2021” by Oklahoma Living Magazine.
In “Blanks,” my favorite character, Josiah Poopart, better known as Beaver, rides again. I liked him so much in “Stripes” that I couldn’t resist writing a sequel. I’ve known him in various forms my entire life: canoeing buddies, fellow soldiers, family members. Men with a simple yet somehow poetic view of life. None as homicidal as Beaver, of course, but they speak of the world much as he does. He is very true to my experience and very close to home. He is not sophisticated, but he is creative, and he’s never met a story he was afraid to embellish. He’s so fun to write. My hope is to write at least five stories documenting the misadventures of my lethal, bucktoothed friend. I’d like to eventually publish them as a single work. (Title suggestions are welcome. 😊) We’ll see.
I did a lot of research for this story (LSD, Spavinaw history, etc.) I always do. My favorite scene, however, wasn’t due to any research or innate creativity on my part. I really wish it was. The Tale of the Depressed Duck was given to me whole cloth by my buddy Colin. He had just had a nearly identical conversation with his wife and was wondering how he should respond. I had no advice for him but, I roared when I heard the story and had to find a way to make it Beaver’s. Fortunately, Colin was willing. I’m hoping you enjoy my retelling of The Depressed Duck. If not, that’s on me. The original version was hysterical.
About Blanks:
Beaver Poopart has graduated both the VA psych ward and the police academy. Now he’s gone to Oklahoma in search of a wayward woman. Lots of people are going to wish he hadn’t.
Snippet:
“Anyway,” I said, “thirteen weeks I spent getting my head unscrewed and re-screwed. No booze. No women. Nothing but cigarettes and all the sleep and VA chow you could eat.”
“Food bad?”
“Hell, no. I ate better than I ever did. Free, too. They had this carrot Jell-O that I got to liking a lot. Little blob of whip cream on top. Real darn good. Sometimes I think I ought to head back over there for dinner or lunch some time. In fact, we could—” I stopped myself. Shooter might meet one of my docs. He might not understand about that dead orderly, Raymond.
Nothing to do with me, of course. People break their necks falling down the stairs all the time. They don’t often die on the fire escape outside my room, but that ain’t my fault. Truth is, nobody knows what he was even doing out there. I reckoned him for a peeping Tom, and I told them so. I told them I was suing for sexual harassment. I pointed out that he kept trying to give me weed, which everybody knows is a gateway drug to sexual slavery. Turns out they had their own suspicions.
About the Author:
Christopher Farris lives in a very old, very small house in a very old, very small town nestled deep in a valley of the Boston Mountains of Northwest Arkansas. His novels, The Fountain, and Intersection: A Trucker’s Christmas Carol are available at Amazon.com, as are his Friday the 13th short stories, including the first Beaver story, “Stripes.”
The climax to the story takes place in the old Rainier Brewery in south Seattle. The huge building is next to the freeway with an iconic “R” sitting on top. Millions of people have driven past the place, but few have entered it. I decided the bowels of the building would be an ideal setting.
About The Devil’s Dregs:
A witch has stolen Steven Metcalf’s newborn son and intends to sacrifice the child to her dark lord. Steven and his two friends scour Seattle to rescue the infant, but the city has become infested with witches and their allies. Can Steven and company save the innocent before it’s too late?
Snippet:
We were about fifty yards down the hill, stumbling through the ferns and salal bushes when a bright flashlight illuminated us. A woman shouted, “This is the police! Stop where you are!”
We ignored her and increased our pace, careening down the hillside by taking flying leaps through the wet fall foliage. Gunshots rang out. I could hear the whizzing sound of bullets flying past us and into the leaves of bushes. Bark flew off a nearby tree. This caused us to leap even faster until we entered a copse of evergreens with low-hanging branches, shielding us at least from view. We crouched on the ground and gathered together as bullets continued to wiz over our heads.
“What now?” asked Hu. While normally cool as a cuke, her voice betrayed her desperation.
About the Author:
Robert Herold is the author of the award-winning Eidola Project novels, which follows a team of 19th-century ghost hunters, and The Seattle Coven Tales, declared by N. N. Light Book Heaven as the “must-read paranormal series of the year.” Find out more at:http://robertheroldauthor.com
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Feast or Famine by Jon Minton
Fun Fact
The story contains a scene at the Teatro della Pergola, an opera house in Florence, Italy. It opened in 1656 and still hosts shows today. In the scene, the main character is watching Robert le Diable, a Meyerbeer opera about the medieval legend who discovers he is the son of Satan. Released in 1831 it is known for the provocative Nun’s Ballet.
About Feast or Famine:
Theresa Salomé is cursed and blessed. Every Friday the 13th, she must kill and cannibalize her victim, extending her life. She’s collected knowledge, amassed wealth, and watched empires come and go. But as centuries pass, the cycle and isolation threaten to tear her mind apart. Is she a monster, a preview of humanity’s future, or just another pawn for gods and devils.
Snippet:
Tess’s strength and extended life came from the brain and heart, the meat and potatoes of the meal. She threw the heart to Marco, who tore into the tough muscle like butter. Despite popular opinion, the brain isn’t something you can hold. Tess scooped out gelatinous fat, slurping it from her hand like an oyster.
Everything that came after the brain and heart, just like the spinal fluid hors d’oeuvres, could be skipped. Tess reminded herself that there was a technical need. If nothing else, body disposal. On a cursed day, she tore flesh and consumed it with the same efficiency as her companion, and together, they would devour it down to the bone in a single day.
About the Author:
Jon Minton is an American speculative fiction writer based in Oklahoma City. He is a software developer but has always been passionate about a great story.
The natural springs and caverns that are part of this story were once popular spa destinations in Florida for travelers in the laste 1800s and early 1900s.
About Violet:
Ivy Powers, now Ivy Ligon, is happily married, renovations to convert the Victorian home she inherited from a distant relative into a bed-and-breakfast are almost complete, and she just discovered she’s expecting. Life is perfect except for troubling dreams and the heartbreaking wail of a child that keeps waking Ivy in the middle of the night. While one lost soul may be seeking solace, another intends to keep its secrets buried…forever. Ivy will be forced to pay a price in her quest to right a wrong…but will it be worth the cost?
Snippet:
“Did you hear about the skeleton they found at the sinkhole on Aaron Rebisz’s farm?”
Ivy was sitting cross-legged next to a box of ledgers from the 1900s the town librarian had dropped off for the new museum. Across the room, Truby Santella was methodically sorting four generations of war medallions donated by Pete Wilson, a retired Navy captain who came from a long line of patriotic men and women who’d served in the Armed Forces.
“Passaway is slow to reveal her secrets, but nothing stays buried forever.”
Ivy flinched at Truby’s choice of words. Although she’d slept a few more hours, undisturbed by eerie cries, the thought of a small child dying in an underground cavern unsettled her. She’d confessed her feelings to Mike who frowned sympathetically but cautioned her about jumping to conclusions.
“We don’t know what happened,” he’d said, smoothing a strand of hair out of her face. “A family could have been picnicking out in the field on top of another sinkhole and the child fell in and was trapped under the dirt and rocks. Jackie mentioned something about a health spa where people came to swim in the natural springs. Could be the child accidentally drowned or was swept away by the waters. Whatever it was, I suspect it happened a long time ago, given there are no stories about children who unexpectedly went missing in the area.”
Her husband was right. The child’s death was most likely an unfortunate mishap.
No, it wasn’t.
Ivy’d had a series of baffling and inexplicable events when she first arrived in Passaway. Premonitions, visions and dreams that seemed to be those of another woman, ghostly encounters, roses with supernatural abilities—all related to Rosemary Storm’s murder. She’d learned to trust her intuition and believe in the unbelievable.
There was a dark secret connected to the child’s skeleton spit out by the earth yesterday. What would it take for the truth to be revealed?
“You’re familiar with the town’s unofficial history.” Ivy tried to sound curious, not like she was digging. “Have you ever heard of a young boy or girl getting lost in the caverns around here?”
“That’s not something I know,” Truby drawled. “Each generation has its own secrets.”
About the Author:
Connor Treadway is the pen name for the writing team behind Gothic thrillers and mysteries. The duo lives and writes in northeastern Florida.
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Karma’s a Bitch by TL Schaefer
Fun Fact:
This was one of those stories that just appeared in my head as I drove back from a lunch meeting with my writer friends! Driving time is the best time for conjuring ideas.
About Karma’s a Bitch:
Millie is determined to prove the existence of the paranormal in Bountiful, Oklahoma. But the people of Bountiful don’t care much for strangers asking questions…
Snippet
A monster emerged soundlessly from the depths of lake into the eerie silence, the last rays of sunlight putting her on display.
She was small, no bigger than Millie, but pure presence and power surrounded her like a nimbus, making her seem larger than the men arrayed before her combined. Her naked body was mottled gray and green and brown, long knotted ropes of what looked like moss shrouding her face. She was grotesque and stunning at the same time, and her terrible, terrifying beauty made the breath clog in Millie’s lungs.
The water streaming off of the monster was clear, and all around her water lilies formed and bloomed, a riot of green and white and pink against cool, crisp water that had looked black and clouded just a moment before.
A kind of wonder tinged with terror swept through Millie, leaving chill bumps on her arms as she looked and tried to comprehend. Failed. She’d never seen anything like this. Had a feeling no one had, except the men who’d summoned the creature.
About the Author:
TL Schaefer writes mysteries/police procedurals that also have a romance twined throughout. And likely some stuff that goes bump in the night.
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Knockers by Mary Coley
Fun Fact
The KNOCKERS story came together after visiting the famous Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, CO this summer.
About Knockers:
Trina Ellsbury needs a break. Then she checks into the StayLonger Inn. The desk clerk neglects to tell her about Knockers that linger on the fifth floor, or the history of Room 511.
Snippet:
“Front Desk. How may I help you?” A woman asked.
“Trina Ellsbury in 511. I need maintenance. The water in my bathtub is brown.”
“511? That can’t be right. What room, Ms. Ellsbury?”
“511. I checked in last night and have been here all day.”
The woman cleared her throat. “I have no one in 511. We don’t rent that room. Please check the number again. I’ll be happy to send someone up.”
“Trip has been here several times today.”
“Trip? We don’t have an employee by that name.”
“Then ask Lou. He delivered food and picked up something for the cleaners. I assure you I’m here and in room 511.”
“Lou? We have no one on staff named Lou. I’ve been at the desk all day.”
“Mr. Jenkins has helped me each time I’ve called. Get him, please. Mr. Jenkins, the manager.”
“There is no Mr. Jenkins. I’m Sandra Lawson, the night manager.”
Someone knocked on the door. Knock…knock, knock, knock, knock. Five times. In my head, the two answering knocks sounded.
“Maintenance, Ms. Ellsbury.” Trip called. He knocked five times.
Through the peephole, I recognized Trip’s blazing smile. I knocked twice in response, loudly, and let him in.
About the Author:
Mary Coley thinks in mysteries. Her favorite question is WHY? A traveler, nature and dog lover, her next story is just around the corner. She lives in Oklahoma with her husband and Trixie, their current rescued hound.
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Spine Chilling by Michelle Godard-Richer
Fun Fact
I put up a post in The Booklounge For Readers and Authors to ask men which classic books were their favorites to decide which book Peter McFadden would possess.
About Spine Chilling:
Peter McFadden’s life is ending, but he isn’t ready to leave this world and his killing ways behind. His spirit lingers inside his favorite vintage book, tethering him to this world, while he waits for his next victim.
Snippet:
Esme kneeled beside her sister and angled the flashlight on her phone into the dark space beneath the box spring. The beam illuminated two boxes. A black metal case and a big shoe box.
Lucy pulled them out. “If he had anything valuable in this room it would be inside these.” She tugged the metal box towards her and lifted the latches. “Yep, this is his old Colt. We’ll take this with us. What’s in that one?”
With an unexplainable sense of unease lifting the hair on the back of her neck, Esme pulled the shoe box towards her and flipped it open. “This is weird.” She picked up a bundle of cards, with a woman’s driver’s license on top, held together by an elastic band. She tugged the elastic off and spread what turned out to be a bunch of driver’s licenses across the carpet. They all belonged to young women. “What the hell, Luce? Why would he have these?”
“I don’t know. I’ll google the names.” Lucy’s fingers flew across her iPhone as she glanced at the driver’s licenses. Her skin turned clammy, and her hands shook.
“What’s wrong, Luce?”
“Ohmigod. I’ve searched three of the names so far, and they were all murdered by the Colorado Strangler. And the police still haven’t caught him. But that still doesn’t explain why Dad has these.” Lucy picked up a small jewelry box, the only other thing left in the shoe box. “I wonder what’s in here.”
Esme’s stomach twisted into a tight knot as her brain worked through the shock of their discovery and arrived at a horrific conclusion. “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”
“Why not?” Lucy opened the box, then dropped it, and covered her mouth.
The box landed on its side and a mound of gleaming white teeth spilled out all over the carpet. Almost as if their father had polished each tooth individually after…he yanked them out of someone’s mouth.
About the Author:
Michelle Godard-Richer is the award-winning author of The Fatal Series. She writes edge-of-your-seat suspenseful stories with strong protagonists and diabolical villains. linktr.ee/mgodardricher
Please help me welcome today’s guest, Zeppy Cheng…
Tell us a little about yourself. Where do you live now? Family? Pets?
I live alone in Wisconsin. I have no pets but desperately want a guinea pig. I grew up in So Cal.
Where did you get the idea for the title for The Lesser One?
The title of my book is a direct reference to how my main character starts in the story. I enjoy mixing fantasy and modern themes. The story was inspired by WuXia novels and comics from China—at least, the magic system was.
What was the most difficult thing about writing this book?
The most difficult thing about writing a book is keeping at it and not giving up. This book had a lot of characters that I had to keep track of.
What book have you read that you wish you had written?
Ender’s Game, or maybe The Lord of the Rings. Both are seminal works that I really enjoy.
Do you collect anything?
I collect Magic: The Gathering cards.
What’s your favorite book of all time and why?
I love the Eragon series, unironically, because it is a story of someone young being successful despite their situation.
What do you want readers to come away with after they read your book?
The moral that you don’t have to start powerful to do great things.
Would you rather have a bad review or no review?
No review.
What is your favorite quote?
Deep Thought answering “42” to the question of “what is the answer to life, the universe, and everything.”
Have you written any other books that are not published?
At least ten.
What is the toughest criticism given to you as an author? What has been the best compliment?
I was scathingly reviewed for my bad editing practices in my first review. The best was when my story was called “A beautiful display of possibilities.”
How did your interest in writing originate?
My mom wanted me to do something besides play video games. So I chose to write.
Blurb:
Forty years ago portals opened all around the world, leading to dungeons with dangerous monsters inside, monsters that can escape into the real world and do incredible damage. At the same time, people began manifesting spirits that allowed them to fight back.
Markus Red just manifested his spirit and it’s a weak one, the weakest one there is. But he squeezes into the position of Adventurer and is sent to Ixtham Academy, where he’ll learn to fight those monsters and destroy the dungeons invading New York City. He is on the lowest rung, but he soon finds an ally in Dr. Barrimore, an eccentric scientist with views that no one else seems to take seriously.
Together the two of them work on a project that will change everything Markus is. But will surviving at the bottom give him the power and courage he’ll need to make it to the top?
Dungeons and Dragons meets Harry Potter in this new, imaginative urban fantasy that will keep you turning pages long into the night!
Excerpt:
I stand before a judge. His sweeping, long hair is tied back in a ponytail that sticks up above his skull like a rocket engine. His eyes burn into my soul, and the souls of the ten initiates beside me.
Today is my discovery ceremony. The skyline of New York towers outside the window of the penthouse temple.
To the judge, today is another day like any other. But to me, this is all that fifteen years of life has been leading to. I hope that I will be special.
The judge takes off his cloak, holding his arms together.
“I am about to activate my companion spirit,” he says, his eyes level. “Do not be afraid of what you are about to see.”
A low rumble grows from the floor and circles the judge’s podium. The lights in the room darken, as if a curtain has been cast over them. The sunlight coming through the window suddenly appears sickly and dangerous.
A powerful light emerges from the judge’s body. The image of a wolverine, eyes blazing red, leaps out of the judge’s back. Wind circulates through the room. The chandelier tinkles as it rotates back and forth. My clothes ripple in the moving air.
Several of the initiates take a step back, afraid. I am not. I stand where I am, facing the monster before me.
The judge opens his arms and a ball of crystal light floats out from the podium.
“You,” he says, pointing to the girl who stands at the left-most of the lineup. “Place your palm against the sphere.”
The girl steps up. She is hesitant. With a cautious motion, she touches the sphere with her hand.
A small flicker of light dances through her hair. The ball lights up, slightly.
“A computer mouse. Household object.” The judge appears satisfied. He flicks his fingers and a piece of paper appears where there was none before. “Here is your job assignment.”
The judge moves to the next initiate, a boy with curly red hair, wearing a windbreaker. The boy approaches the ball. He does not need to be told.
When he touches the ball, a burst of sparks pops out of its surface. His hair sticks up on end. The image of an electrical socket floats above his head.
“Electrical socket. Household object.” The judge hands the boy the same piece of paper.
The judge continues.
Yellow beams of light. “Banana. Lesser food object.”
A red circle that spins quickly. “Gear assembly type two. Minor mechanical system.”
A spout of water, steaming hot. “Teapot. Household object.”
The judge turns to me. “Step up,” he says.
I step up. Touching the ball, I wait for something to happen.
Nothing happens. The judge appears confused. He checks his tablet. “Markus Red. It says here you awakened your spirit potential a week ago.”
I nod.
“Touch the ball again,” he says.
I touch it. The ball changes color almost imperceptibly.
The judge sighs. “Anima.”
I tilt my head. “Anima?” I say.
The judge nods. He seems to think for a moment, and then flicks his fingers. A piece of paper is handed to me.
The words read: Adventurer. The judge sighs. “I know I’m going to get flak for this decision, but we just don’t have enough manpower.” It appears he is explaining things to himself rather than me.
“Manpower?” I say.
The judge nods, his eyes already turning to the next initiate. “Touch the ball …”
Later, on the subway heading back home, I take another look at the paper that was handed to me.
It’s actually an envelope. The job assignment is written on its face. I tear the envelope open and a plastic card drops out. It has my picture on it and all my physical information. At the bottom, it says, in small red letters:
Companion spirit: Blue Anima.
I don’t know what that means.
Along with the card is a couple of pieces of paper with instructions.
I must report to the New York Adventurer’s Association within two days of receiving my companion spirit.
A small voice echoes in my mind. I have not heard it before.
Hello … Hello …
I do my best to ignore it. Something about the voice makes me feel uncomfortable. Does it have to do with my companion spirit? I don’t know. All I know is that I now am among the few in this world who have awakened their spirit potential.
I decide to report to the Association now. I don’t have anything to do, after all. Today is a Sunday. I don’t have any homework, and I have no friends to hang out with.
I ride the subway to the stop closest to the Adventurer’s Association. Passing by my favorite dollar-slice pizza store, I approach the Association’s building. It is a gigantic tower, at least seventy stories tall, the entire thing dedicated to the New York Adventurer’s Association.
I approach the entrance. A security guard stops me.
“Your reason for visiting?”
I hand him the piece of paper that came with the envelope I just opened. The guard looks it over. “Right this way,” he says. I follow him into the building’s grand entrance.
Marble pillars march towards a far-away row of elevators. A waterfall coats the atmosphere in a thin covering of mist. Exotic plants line the walls. Several sitting rooms, tucked quietly away in the corners, host chatting adventurers.
I can tell because of their armor. Bright metal, dark cloaks, studded leather. The gear of an adventurer.
It finally hits me—I’m going to be an adventurer! Protecting the world from dungeon portals! I’m going to be famous!
That thought is put out of my mind by my meeting with the receptionist. She looks at my ID card and frowns.
“Who did your awakening?” she says, sliding the card underneath a reader.
“Er, um, judge Erin.”
The receptionist sighs. “I trust his judgement, but I don’t understand his thinking.”
“Why?” I say.
The receptionist shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. The decision has been made.” She hands me the card back, pointing to a bank of elevators. “You’ll have your meeting with the coordinator in room 1204.” She turns away to answer a phone. I stand there, stupidly, for another fifteen seconds, before turning towards the elevators.
Room 1204 … That means it would be on floor twelve. Probably. I wait for the elevator to arrive.
When it does, two armed adventurers walk out. I recognize one of them.
“Fast T!” I say, without thinking.
The adventurer, a thin, lanky man with small armor plates all over his body, looks at me with disinterest.
The lady beside him elbows him. “You have a fan.”
Fast T sighs, visibly irritated. He looks at me. “What, you want an autograph?”
I shake my head. “No. I, uh, I just became an adventurer.”
“What’s your familiar spirit?” says Fast T.
“Er, Blue Anima,” I say.
Fast T sighs again. “Yeah, don’t get your hopes up, kid,” he says. He turns away.
The woman touches his shoulder. “Come on, tell him something supportive,” she says.
Fast T pauses. He turns to me. “Be careful out there.” It appears he is forcing it. Then he turns away.
As they leave, I hear the woman say: “You could have been nicer …”
Even though the encounter didn’t go like I had imagined it many times before, I had still met Fast T, one of my favorite adventurers.
Please help me welcome Katherine Gilbert, with her new release, Protecting the Dead – Great title, right? I love the cover too, and it’s one of the choices in the Moonlight and Mystery Cover Contest. I’m sure Katherine would love your votes!
Good morning, Katherine. Please tell us a little about yourself, where are you from? Where do you live now? Family? Pets?
I’ve been born and raised in South Carolina (unofficial state motto: “Our politicians embarrass us”). My real family and best friend is my sister, Armida. Our goal is to become strange, cackling old ladies in the corner of a tearoom together.
Where did you get the idea for Protecting the Dead?
There was, until recently, a real apartment complex in Decatur, GA (where my novel is set) which my sister and I once visited on an apartment hunt. Unfortunately, everything there was just a little too creepy, including the apartment she was shown which didn’t quite feel empty. When she asked about the turnover of tenants, she was told, “Oh, our residents never leave.” This hit my gothic imagination with an audible buzzing sound and wouldn’t leave me alone, until it was written.
Was there anything unusual, any anecdote about this book, the characters, title, process, etc, you’d like to share?
Some of the places in the novel are based off of Atlanta urban legends, such as the club (now closed, I believe) which was said to be the home of vampires.
Are there any tricks, habits or superstitions you have when creating a story?
I can’t talk about a story, while I’m writing it. If I do, I’ll talk it out of myself and won’t ever sit down to write.
What book have you read that you wish you had written?
Every book I love I know I couldn’t have written, but I do admire the talents of so many other authors. I wish I could throw off a laugh-till-it-hurts line like Terry Pratchett. I wish I could create a fascinating, unexpected twist like Agatha Christie. I wish I could convey an astonishing sense of time and place like Barbara Hambly–and so many, many others.
Do you have another occupation, other than writer? If so, what is it and do you like it?
I teach English at a SC community college. As to whether I like it, it depends on the students. Some are lovely, funny, fascinating people who I fervently hope succeed in all their dreams. Some have never mentally shown up to school once, so I’ve really only met their bodies. When there are many more of the latter group, it’s not a wonderful semester.
What do you love that most people don’t like and wouldn’t understand why you do?
When I go to a new city, I love to visit Victorian cemeteries, especially ones with very ornate mausoleums or stone angels, etc. One of the great joys of my life was getting to visit Highgate Cemetery in London, especially the older parts you need to have a guide to be allowed into. It’s beautiful, quiet, wooded, and the statues–ohh, the statues.
What do you dislike that most people wouldn’t understand?
Spicy food! It seems to me that every commercial now is for some restaurant or fast food place which promises that your head will actively explode after tasting their burningly spicy food. I love flavor in food, especially subtle, delicate flavors and spices, but not having my taste buds actively burned out of my mouth.
Do you collect anything?
Quite a few things. Among them are magnets (from just about everywhere I visit) and weird little salt-and-pepper shakers. Among the stranger ones I have is a set of Hello Kitty vibrating shakers. That’s right–you pull the string, and they vibrate. The wonderful absurdity of it just makes me giggle.
What’s your favorite book of all time and why?
It’s so hard to choose! I can maybe cull it down to three: Terry Pratchett’s The Fifth Elephant (all of Discworld is wonderful, but add the gothic and I’m totally hooked), Connie Willis’ To Say Nothing of the Dog (The world-building! The romance! The references to 19th-century comic authors!), and Jean Ferris’ Much Ado About Grubstake (it’s just a wonderfully good-hearted, light-hearted YA novel set in a fictional old west town).
What do you want readers to come away with after they read Protecting the Dead?
I’d like them to take a few moments to smile and sigh and enjoy having lived in that world for awhile.
Would you rather have a bad review or no review?
It’s hard to choose, but I suppose it depends on the bad review. No book is to everyone’s taste, so I accept that there will be people I can’t please. I’d rather not have a review which seems to be purposely trying to cut out my soul, though. As for no reviews, that’s difficult, too, since I don’t know whether anyone is reading it–and others who might want to aren’t given any guidance on whether they’d like it. I guess my answer, then, is . . . I haven’t a clue?
What is your favorite quote?
My friend, Chris, always says, “When someone thinks they’re doing you wrong, they’re actually doing you a favor.” It’s a philosophy I try to remember, when people aren’t very nice.
What celebrity would you most like to be stranded on an island with?
Sorry, she’s not famous, but it’d have to be my sister. We’d never survive, but at least we’d be together.
What do you want your tombstone to say?
To quote from the movie, Auntie Mame: “Odd, but loving.”
Have you written any other books that are not published?
Yes, I have three completed urban fantasies and one completed contemporary romance. I’m also actively working on a fourth urban fantasy novel. All the fantasies take place in different parts of the same alternate universe, and they generally fall into two categories: the magical and the gothic. Protecting the Dead is also one of the gothic ones.
Are your characters based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination?
Generally speaking, real people aren’t as interesting for me to write about as the ones I make up. I don’t think anyone would thrill to tales of a department meeting.
What do your friends and family think of your writing?
My sister is my biggest supporter. I read her every chapter, as it’s written. My friends are sort of in shock that I’ve kept at it long and hard enough to be published, but they’re excited for me.
What character in your book are you least likely to get along with?
That would be the demon who wants to destroy Lydia.
Who is the most famous person you have ever met?
I walked about six feet behind David Carradine once. Weird Al Yankovic sweated on and sang to my sister at a concert (when she was sitting right beside me). They were fun moments, but, to quote Weird Al, I think they also qualify as pretty “Lame Claims to Fame.”
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
Only that good and bad people come in all forms. The forms alone don’t tell you much about the person. The way that people interact with others does.
How much of the book is realistic?
It’s based on a real place, but overall it’s much more fantasy than urban.
How did your interest in writing originate?
I started writing fan fiction for a show I was obsessed with, La Femme Nikita. I wrote a LOT of it, and there were quite a few people who enjoyed it. After awhile, I started branching out into a couple of alternate universe pieces–and through that realized that I could actually create my own characters and plot. I also realized that I didn’t need to know everything about a story to write it. I just needed to get started, and the characters would show me where things were headed, as I went along.
Your favorite…
Song–“Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls (I’m not a gigantic fan of theirs otherwise, but I LOVE that one song). A close second and third would be Evanescence’s “Bring Me to Life” and Blue Oyster Cult’s “Veteran of the Psychic Wars.”
Place you’ve visited–Ireland, England, and Scotland, all of them beautiful with touches of the gothic throughout
Place you’d like to visit–Brookgreen Gardens, a figural sculpture garden in SC. I’ve been there dozens of times, but I always want to go back.
TV show from childhood—Lou Grant, or maybe Scooby Doo–I was an eclectic kid.
TV show from adulthood—La Femme Nikita, although there are plenty of others I like. I usually only come across a show on DVD long after it’s over nowadays.
GIVEAWAY!!!!
Are there any urban legends or haunted houses in your area? Leave a comment and I’ll select a random commenter to receive a $5 gift card from Amazon.
Blurb:
After a childhood filled with demons and her devil-worshiping parents, Lydia longs for a quiet, normal life, a safe haven somewhere blissfully dull. Being the manager at the Roanoke Apartments seems to fit that bill. But Lydia soon learns that you can’t leave the past behind so easily. She finds herself faced with unclogging drains for werewolves, conducting nightly vampire counseling sessions, and caring for two talkative cats. Then there’s the distraction of Geoffrey, the hottest, and most angelic, boss anyone ever dreamed of. As if that isn’t enough, the demon who nearly killed her shows up to finish the job. So much for a peaceful, simple life…
Excerpt:
She knew she was being rude, knew she certainly wasn’t being a good assistant to Geoffrey, but she couldn’t quite force herself to look up again. If she did, she was going to see things she couldn’t wholly deny. She couldn’t take that. Whatever its dangers, denial felt safe. There was only so much oddity her brain could withstand, before it just started to explode.
She found herself sitting on the couch a moment later, knew that all these men were watching her, knew that she was direly failing whatever test she was being given. But she just couldn’t help it. It was too much, was far too weird. If only life could be all picket fences and well-tended lawns and SUVs and…
Okay, so she really wasn’t dumb enough to think such details meant an utter lack of misery, but they just seemed so nice, compared to her life. She felt someone sit on the couch beside her, knew it was Geoffrey, even before he spoke.
“Give her a minute,” he whispered, tenderly stroking her blue hair.
That only made her sigh all the more. There were times she truly wished she could be a stereotypical vapid blonde.
That wish, of course, was part of the reason why she’d ended up with the hair color she was now stuck with, but she wasn’t up to such analysis.
One of the residents sighed softly. “I guess we are a bit much for a first day. Especially with our moon phase coming up and all.”
She wished she lived the sort of life which made it impossible to guess what they were talking about.
Geoffrey’s soft touch made her raise her head again, her eyes a little misty, as she gazed at the two werewolves’ worried yellow eyes. Their normal clothing only made the situation weirder. The one who had greeted them, Hugh, dressed much like her boss tended to. The second one was even wearing a business suit. She was trying not to scream.
Fortunately, Geoffrey surprised her out of the impulse, pulling her close, his arms tender, mouth by her ear. Into it, he whispered a series of soft, soothing sounds. Like at her lunch with Glory, none of them were quite recognizable, except for her name. “Lydia,” he would breathe, before those only half-hidden words began again. “Lydia.” It made her real name so darn tempting that she couldn’t quite remember why she’d ever chosen another, and it finally made her sanity begin to piece itself slowly back together.
She wasn’t certain how long they were like that, knew nothing except his touch, his comfort. Some final spate of words settled inside her as a sort of hope for the future, a thought — even if she had no conscious access to it — that comforted her even more. She felt his soft kiss there, before he finally leaned back. She didn’t really know what to think, after that.
Katherine Gilbert was born at house number 1313 and then transplanted to a crumbling antebellum ruin so gothic that The Munsters would have run from it. She has since gained several ridiculously-impractical degrees in English, Religious Studies, and Women’s Studies. She now teaches at a South Carolina community college, where all her students think, correctly, that she is very, very strange, indeed.
Graduating with a degree in English, and vowing to never again read a literary novel.
The first time I saw Prince perform live. #itwasalwayslove
Subscribing to a little known fanzine called Controversy, dedicated to all things Prince. In the back was a section for anyone looking for a pen pal. I signed up, and met some of my best friends for all time.
Standing in line in snow and ice for tickets to a Prince concert. My feet are still angry with me, but it was worth it because…
My pen pal flew in to see the show with me. This was our first time meeting, and I was unaware that she’d become my best friend, partner and love of my life.
We met and somehow ended up having breakfast with Jason Momoa at a CON.
First front row seat at a Prince concert. He was wearing a sheer white outfit, and he was backlit by dozens of stage lights. He looked like an angel—naked, except for a glow.
Finishing HOUSE OF THE RISING SON. No one believed I could do it.
Handcrafting dolls that represent Jamie and Jade in HOUSE OF THE RISING SON.
Receiving three offers for the book. My goal had been for one person not related to me to fall in love with Cheyenne (the protagonist), but he and his family have touched more people than I imaged.
Very interesting, Trevann. Thank you for sharing. Very cool that you had that experience seeing Prince, especially since he’s now passed. Oh my gosh…LOVE those dolls. I’m impressed! 🙂 And now, please tell us about your book.
BLURB
House of the Rising Son
Living After Midnight, Book 1
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance (LGBT)
Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.
Alexander’s future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who’d be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He’s barely met the woman his father expects him to marry.
As Cheyenne’s musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can’t let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who’s not sure if he’s falling for the incubus or the rocker.
Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.
~~
Excerpt:
While waiting for their drinks, Alexander studied the deep grooves carved into the table, trying to ignore the friction of Cheyenne’s thigh rubbing against his as the musician tapped a heel to the thump of the DJ’s music. Once the drinks arrived, Alexander downed half the bottle before he realized Cheyenne’s large green eyes were staring at him.
“So where’s your girl, Prudhomme? I mean, Prune Danish. No, wait…”
“Prudish. Shit, Prudence,” Alexander sputtered.
Cheyenne’s eyes sparkled. “No, you got it right the first time. Where is she?”
He shrugged. “Home, I guess.”
Cheyenne cocked his head. “Oh, really?” He put his hand on Alexander’s leg. “What’s up? You can tell me.”
“It’s not working out.” Alexander dragged his teeth over his lower lip. “It’s my fault.” He couldn’t keep his attraction to Cheyenne out of his voice. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Cheyenne put his thumb to his lip and paused. “It’s like the drink.”
Alexander tilted his head, not sure he heard correctly. “The drink?”
“Yeah, that nasty ass bourbon. I bet your father drinks it. Your uncles. All your friends. Everybody, right?”
He didn’t answer, but waited for Cheyenne to continue.
“It was just expected that you’d drink it too. So you did.” His hand moved up Alexander’s thigh. “But now, maybe it’s okay to drink what you like. A different brand, a better vintage. Because you want it. Because it tastes better.” Cheyenne licked his lips. “Because it feels right.”
Alexander cleared his throat and brushed his lap, pushing Cheyenne’s hand away. “I can’t.”
“If you change your mind, let me know.”
“You don’t understand. It’s not that easy. My whole life will change.”
Trevann Rogers writes urban fantasy and LGBT paranormal romances. Her books include HOUSE OF THE RISING SON and its prequel, AFTER MIDNIGHT. Trevann’s stories incorporate an unquenchable addiction to music and her love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures, Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.
Please help me welcome today’s guest and her intriguing novel… Isn’t this a fantastic cover?
BLURB:
Gin Crawford, the world’s latest demon huntress, has no time to mourn her dead lover as she’s called in to determine why a demon attack occurred at the local medical school. And not just any demon, but the one demon that gives her demon-killing bracelet the shivers. A dead professor, a lab full of missing anthrax, and a demon who turns good people into minions complicate her life. Can Gin and her mentor Aidan Smythe solve the mystery of the missing anthrax and the identity of the demon before someone else dies?
EXCERPT:
The scent of sulfur hangs in the air like a demonic stink bomb. I want to slap a hand over my nose, but no one else seems affected by the stench. Must be a demon huntress thing.
“If you don’t like my new title, then stay out of my mind.”
He glares. I swallow. Cross my arms. Refuse to take a step back. I’m learning not to be intimidated by his anger. Go me.
My justitia vibrates, throwing me out of my internal battle, pulling me back to the land of death and minions. The blob of colors pulsates, a glowing reminder of a moment of terror. The moment the demon appeared to the grad student.
Granted, I’m still taking Demons 101, but I thought demons formed minions in private. Usually after the human committed a crime, not before. A tryout, so to speak. And maybe that happened, but it sure seems to me like the black blob of demon force appeared to the grad student smack in the middle of the hallway.
Or maybe that always happens, and I just now noticed it.
The justitia’s vibration grows stronger, trembling my arm, my veins. Not its normal excited tremor upon seeing a minion or demon. A rush of images spikes through my mind, scenes of terror coupled with blood and death, memories of the justitia’s former wearers captured in time by the entity in the bracelet.
I’m not the only one freaked out by the colored blob. How bad was this demon to scare a justitia?
Wow, chilling excerpt! Now, let’s get to know Karilyn…
Are there any tricks or habits you use when creating a story?
I have to drink hot tea when writing. I can’t seem to write without it.
What book have you read that you wish you would have written?
The Outlander series and the first few books of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series by JR Ward.
Do you have another occupation, other than writer? If so, what is it and do you like it?
I do! I’m a clinical research coordinator at a busy oncology clinic. This means I help run clinical trials. Sounds fancy. What it really involves is a bunch of paperwork. You can think of me as a glorified paper pusher. And yes, I do enjoy it. It makes me feel like I’m helping people. And isn’t that what we should all strive to do?
Yes, I agree. It’s great you have a job where you can help others. What’s the main thing that you could get rid of in your life that would give you more writing time?
The aforementioned job. As much as I like it if I could stay home and write (and make money writing), I’d gladly give it up.
What do you want readers to come away with after they read Demon Kissed?
Wanting to read the next in the series (or the first in the series if they haven’t already).
What is your favorite quote?
Anyone who thinks he’s too small to make a difference has never been bit by a mosquito – Lily Casey Smith in Half-Broke Horses
Love that quote!
What is your favorite…
Movie – Star Wars
Music – Mumford & Sons
Place you’ve visited – Sweden
Place you’d like to visit – Scotland
TV show from childhood – Laverne & Shirley
TV show from adulthood – Game of Thrones
Food – apples
Which do you prefer: Board games/card games or television?Board games/card games
Excellent! I enjoyed your answers, although, I bet you are the only person in the world whose favorite food is apples. 🙂
Karilyn has a question for readers… What is your favorite genre to read?
(Mine is suspense…but paranormal is probably second.)
BIO:
Karilyn Bentley’s love of reading stories and preference of sitting in front of a computer at home instead of in a cube, drove her to pen her own works, blending fantasy and romance mixed with a touch of funny.
Her paranormal romance novella, Werewolves in London, placed in the Got Wolf contest and started her writing career as an author of sexy heroes and lush fantasy worlds.
Karilyn lives in North Texas with her own hunky hero, a crazy dog nicknamed The Kraken, and a handful of colorful saltwater fish.
Debra Doggett with her new Wild Rose Press release…
Blurb:
Rose DeSalvo has had better days. Not many but a few. Especially since she left her cheating husband Eddie behind. But Eddie has turned up again to wreck havoc in her life. This time, though, he’s buried among her prize roses. Rose knows she’s got to find out who killed Eddie and get him back to the scene of the crime before she can be accused of his murder. That’s the reason she suddenly finds herself with a dangerously hot necromancer, a zombie ex-husband and a wild assortment of people who seem to know far more about her than she does about them. If she could only get them to tell her what she needs to know before she runs out of time, she just might uncover not only Eddie’s murderer but her own destiny.
Excerpt:
There was something about the etched design in the faded cowhide, sort of a scripted “E” all fancied up, that looked all too familiar.
“Hey, those are Eddie’s boots. Whoa!” With the aid of the side of the house, Leon got to his feet and peered at me with bloodshot eyes.
“What?” I kicked at the dirt with my slipper, trying to push enough of it aside to get a better view.
“You bumped him off.”
“What are you babbling about?” Ishined the light around the edge of the hole Leon had dug. They really did look like Eddie’s boots. Please, please, please, don’t let the rest of him be in them.
“You bumped Eddie off, didn’t you?”
Leon staggered against me, giving me a good whiff of his breath. I wondered if you could get drunk from secondhand alcohol. Right now I could really use a stiff drink. I gripped his arm to keep him still. His wavering combined with his breath nauseated me. He peered into my eyes then looked back down at the ground.
“I mean, you always said you wanted to but I never really thought you would.” His voice held the kind of awe he usually reserved for major sports events and winners of monster truck rallies. It was the most respect he’d ever given my work.
I shook my head and hissed at him. “I did not bump Eddie off. You don’t know this is Eddie. It could be a total stranger.”
“You bumped off a total stranger?” The awe factor faltered a bit, replaced by a note of fear.
Are there any tricks or habits you use when creating a story?
I start with scenes that come to me. As they come I collect them and when I feel I have enough to do a rough outline I will make one. Then I work on creating more scenes. It’s the scenes that let me know the characters and how they behave.
What book have you read that you wish you would have written?
It’s called Let’s Pretend This Never Happened and it’s by Jenny Lawson. It’s sort of a memoir and it’s hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. It’s not so much that I wish I had written that particular book as I would love to reach the point where I can be that honest in my writing.
Do you have another occupation, other than writer? If so, what is it and how do you like it?
I teach pre-school and most days it’s a lot of fun. Some days I’m crying with the kids, lol.
What do you dislike that most people wouldn’t understand?
The Wizard of Oz. I bet I’ve watched that movie fifty times because my mom loved it. I can’t stand it to this day.
What’s the main thing that you could get rid of in your life that would give you more writing time?
The need for another job to pay the bills. I would love to simply wander and write all day.
What genre have you never written that you’d like to write?
Straight historical fiction. I’d love to have the time to research a story like that and write it.
What is your favorite…
Movie: any with Russell Crowe in it
Music: Celtic music
Place you’ve visited:Avsbury, England
Place you’d like to visit:China
TV show from childhood: Gilligan’s Island
TV show from adulthood:Outlander
Food:omelets
Sports team:I wouldn’t even know any to pick
Which do you prefer: Board games/card games or television?: board games
Thank you for joining me today, Debra! Gilligan’s Island was one of my favorite childhood shows too. 🙂
And now, Deb would like to ask readers a question…
What is it that makes a story stay in your head (and your heart)?
Debra Doggett bio
I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. Being a writer is more than something I do. It is the way I see the world, the way I process it. I believe in the power of stories. They make us smile, make us think and give us untold moments of enjoyment. My stories come from the landscape around me and the worlds I build in my head. I am proud to be a storyteller, and I hope my work leaves you both satisfied and entertained.
Book One in an exciting new series from The Wild Rose Press…
Karilyn Bentley with Demon Lore, an urban fantasy novel
Will Gin discover who wants her dead before she becomes the next victim in the ongoing battle?
Fun Fact:
I wrote this book a couple of years ago for a contest my RWA chapter held to meet an agent. The agent didn’t want it, but my publisher did. The original first chapter has been eliminated, a complete rewrite, and it reads a lot better. However, I do like that scene and am trying to decide if I want to place it in another book in the series.
A favorite line or two:
Blue sky peeks through gaps in the leaves as I suck down air into shocked-still lungs. Did I slip on a stone or did Mr. You-Don’t-Need-A-Caffeine-Hit just sweep my feet out from under me?
I am proud to share some of the latest releases from The Wild Rose Press… Please check out the books and follow these authors on Twitter and Facebook, etc.
Enjoy the wonderful stories AND the fun fact tidbits…
Lynn Shurr with Paradise for a Sinner, Contemporary Novel
The best cure for a lost love is a new love.
Fun Fact: When I first thought of writing a book about a Samoan football player, I figured big, hunky guy, hot steamy nights–until I discovered Samoans are religiously conservative and very family-oriented. My new theme became Adam Malala’s conflict with tradition ways and his life as a rich and famous athelete. Don’t worry. There are still some hot, steamy nights in the plot.
*****Half price sale through Wild Rose Press website – Only $2.50, regular $4.99*****
(Ebook can easily be downloaded to your Kindle or Nook)
*************** Liz Flaherty with THE GIRLS OF TONSIL LAKE, Women’s Fiction Novel
Four women whose differences only deepen the friendship forged in a needy childhood…
Fun Fact: I wrote The Girls’ story because I love girlfriend books and because all four of them presented themselves to me, personalities intact. It was so much fun. Jean’s a romance author and pretty much wrote her own story, Suzanne is based on one of my best friends (who recognized herself right off the bat and still talks to me), and Andie is closely related to my sister-in-law Lynn. The fourth friend, Vin, was–and still is, to a certain degree–a woman of mystery simply because I don’t know anyone like her. But I like her. I like her a lot.
Karilyn Bentley with Dragon Lover, Fantasy romance, novel,
When opposing dreams collide, will love be the victor?
Fun Fact: Dragon Lover is the third book in the Draconia Tales series and wraps up the trilogy. I enjoyed writing this story and letting the readers know the true identity of Fafnir, the hero. He’s first introduced in Magical Lover and returns in Warrior Lover. In Dragon Lover we learn who his mate is and why they spent their lives running from each other.
Author Alicia Dean 