Halloween @ TRS

First Halloween after Winter 2012

2009-10-31T17:12:00.000-07:00

HALLOWEEN DAY, 2013 ~ after Winter 2012 in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

SEDONA & VOLCANO’S FIRST HALLOWEEN

“Wicked guano stench, cherub. Thanks for saving us so fast.” Sedona smiled.
Volcano swept his arm in a large arc, creating their translucent sphere of protection deep inside the artificially designed cavern, part of an ancient underground travelway. The huge colony of bats, survivors of Montana’s ecological catastrophes, were in the first stage of hibernation. With her enhanced hearing, Sedona listened to their high-pitched frequency conversation about their sudden arrival, and the bats’ group decision to ignore them.
Protectively, she held Aru, their baby dog, in her arms. Even he had been worn out by their brutally long day of avoiding the constant attacks of their shadow-elite enemies. Aru’s eyes squinched closed in a light doze, as Volcano retrieved his sleep pillow from the superspeed cycle’s compartment. He tossed it close to the center of their sphere, his gaze running over them protectively.
Before placing Aru on his pillow, Sedona kissed the top of his silky fur head. Settling quickly, Aru curled up, his eyes blinking shut within moments. Volcano wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close, and for a few moments they stood companionably, gazing down at Aru like doting parents.
“How are you?” Volcano’s velvet tone tingled her ear, and sizzled her insides. Seductively, he handled her bottom, causing her mound to throb with sex-hot desires.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Turning inside his embrace, she slid her palms over his chest, caressing. “That smell as we entered, alone, could have given me a Halloween nightmare. Not to mention recalling all those vampire bat scenes. Too bad we can’t loose them on the hordes of evil following us.”
“We could, precious woman.”
“I know. It’s not divinely kosher.” Sedona looped her arms around his neck, luxuriating in the feel of his muscle-carved body. “Mmmm, I love the way my breasts feel against your chest, carnal cherub.”
“I’ll make them feel even better once we arrive at the cabin.” His promise, spoken in black velvet, seared through her decadently.
“I know you will,” she whispered, hearing the moan in her voice.
Volcano nuzzled her lips with his, and they kissed sumptuously, their passions rising as fast as a fueled bonfire.
Once their lips reluctantly parted, and with her breath in short supply, Sedona murmured his angelic name. Yet, she didn’t speak the tiny threads of love smoldering in her heart. She knew he heard them like harp strings, by the way he held her molded against him.
“We’re surrounded by psi spies, my Sedona. I have to remain awake, undistracted.”
“Undistracted?” She raised a brow. “What a Halloween disappointment. I was looking forward to pretending you were Dracula in desperate need of my blood essence and my virgin-helpless body.”
“I’m much more desperate than the blood-tasting lusts of Dracula, my beautiful one.” Slowly, he stroked over the long length of her hair. “Your neck belongs to me,” he badly imitated a campy version of Count Dracula.
“Count Chocula.” Sedona chuckled.
“Count Chocula?”
“That’s who you sound like. Count Chocula in the old cereal commercial. It was a chocolate-tasting cereal for kids.”
“You dare amuse yourself at the expense of the great and masterful Count Chocula, who, even now, bakes himself with superior chocolate flavor, just for you and your delectable-tasting sinful pleasures.”
Sedona giggled as his splayed hands enjoyed the roundness of her butt. “Does that mean you’re going to taste like chocolate when I am allowed to ‘sinfully’ lick and ravish your incredibly hard, incredibly sexy body?”
“If you let me taste your naughty wet curls first.” His gaze smoldered, flushing her insides to a sweet fierce heat. Only for him.
“Distraction,” she murmured.
“Yes,” he agreed, and gently released her. Holding her hand, he seated himself next to Aru’s pillow. Tenderly, he drew her down so she sat within the cradle of his body, her back to him.
Sedona vibrated with the strength of his protection for her, as if an ethereal song played inside her body. She should be accustomed to his care by now. Yet, she doubted she ever would be. Wearier than she realized, she leaned her head back on the hunky wall of his chest, and closed her eyes, hoping...
An instant later, her eyes snapped back open, and her adrenalin spiked. “I swear she must be a reincarnation of the Wicked Witch of the West. Even if that was a fictional character.”
Immediately, Volcano hugged her closer, and Sedona snuggled more deeply into his embrace. She intimately covered his hands with hers. Still, she shivered violently, remembering her recent encounter with the Nazerazzi woman, a top operative, determined to capture her or destroy her. The fact, that the ‘Wicked Witch’ still possessed some manner of psychic connection with her was more than disturbing.
“I’ll make her vanish like a fake ghost once the immediate danger is passed. Talk with me awhile, precious woman.”
“Fake ghost? Do you mean everyone wearing white sheets?”
“No. Pretend ghosts at Halloween parties. Fog machines. Mother talked about them.”
“Oh, I guess that does make sense, handsome heavenly one.”
“Your first Halloween costume?” He purred the words near her ear.
“You always know how to keep me awake and talking. Hmmm...let me see...spin some gray matter...take a trip back in time...” Sedona settled her head more comfortably against his chest. “It wasn’t the first one, probably. But it is the first one I remember. And it was before kindergarten. Mom made us three girls pajama footie costumes from a pattern.”
“Footie?”
“Sort of like tights. But these were sewn from flannel. They were winter pajamas.”
“Winter pajamas? I don’t understand.”
“We wore them to bed after Halloween. It was a more practical time, the middle 50's. But they were also a costume. I was the black cat. I remember loving that costume, especially my tail and my ears, but I was envious of the tiger and lion costumes my other two sisters got.”
“Meow,” he darkly whispered. “My own black cat woman for Halloween.”
“In flannel pajamas?” she drily teased.
“Batman eat your heart out.”
“Plenty of bats in here. Batman could be in disguise just waiting to swoop down. Okay, more like a bloodthirsty move Dracula would make.”
“I’ve got better wings. Better than Batman or any vampire bat,” he reminded, his voice utter passion.
“Ooooh, you do. Black gorgeous sexy wings.” Sedona shuddered with desire, remembering their celestial lovemaking.
“I want my black cat woman,” he growled possessively.
“Don’t you dare read my mind and create those black cat pajamas. I’m not wearing them for you.”
“Yes, you will.”
“No, I won’t.”
“You’ll be my black cat beauty.”
“Hiss and grrrr...I’ll claw you to divine particles, cherub.”
“I’ll make you beg and mew for my tricks and my treats,” he promised in a dark purr.
“I’m not begging. Or mewing. What? Have you turned from angel to demon for Halloween?”
“Did I forget to tell you?” His voice unmercifully teased. “For this one night, the whole fabric of Earth turns inside out, and, yes, I transform into your demon lover.”
Despite herself, Sedona wantonly trembled inside. “More than you already are?” she whispered, her heart rate frenzied and soaring.
“Especially, if you wear black cat flannel pajamas,” he sinfully tempted.
“You won’t even let me wear a flannel nightgown, you bad cherub.”
“You’ve forgotten the rules, my Sedona. If you wear a flannel nightgown, I get to rip it off. Have my wicked way with you.”
Sedona twisted inside with raw passion. “Trick, and no treat for you. Or me. Since we’re here. Deep in bat do-do. It’s closing in on midnight. And the psi spies are still hunting us.”
“Before dawn, my queen of the angels, I’ll make you fly. Next Halloween, black cat pajamas, and I’m your demon lover.”
~~~~~~

Sedona & Volcano invite you to read their love story ~
WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth...Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes? ~ available from BookStrand ~ http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~ http://bookstrand.com ~ NOW IN PRINT ~ An Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com ~
Volcano’s Angelic Forecast for this week ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com ~ ISBN: 1-60601-061-1
~~~~~~

HAPPY SPOOKY HALLOWEEN

~ MAY ALL YOUR READING DREAMS COME TRUE ~

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
Red Lioness Tamed
When a Good Angel Falls ~ IN PRINT
Tangerine Carnal Dreams
Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ IN PRINT
Black Cat Beauty
Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ IN PRINT
Stallion of Ash and Flame

Pumpkin Soup

2009-10-31T11:00:00.000-07:00

5 cups chicken broth

2 cups pumpkin puree

2 tbs flour

2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp powdered ginger

1/4 tsp ground nutmeg

2 cups half and half

2 large egges, beaten

3 tbs chopped chives

In a large cooking pot, combine chicken broth and pumpkin puree. Heat to simmering. Mix flour, salt, and spices in a separate bowl. Add 1/2 cup of half and half, mixing until smooth. Add the rest of the half and half, then add eggs. Stir into simmering broth and pumpkin. Cook for 5 minutes over low heat, stirring constantly. Garnish with chopped chives and serve with hearty bread. Serves 6. Enjoy!

Happy Halloween (Samhain)!

Kelley
'Timeless tales of romance, conflict & magic'
http://www.kelleyheckart.com/
http://kelleysrealm.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/CelticChick
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelley-Heckart/111838455604

Samhain Magic

2009-10-30T17:38:00.000-07:00

What is Halloween (Samhain) without some magic?

Since this is the time of year when the veil is thinnest between the world of the living and that of the dead, it is also the ideal time to communite with those who have passed away. I found this ritual in the Witches' Datebook 2003 from Magenta Griffith.

You will need a large mirror for this, one that shows your whole face and preferably part of your upper body.

At least three days before Samhain, cover the mirror. If possible, fast all day on October 31. If you smoke, refrain from smoking until after sunset.

At midnight, sit or stand before the mirror. Have a small bowl or cup of salt water close to hand. Uncover the mirror and softly call the name of the person you wish to contact. Do this several times if needed. Concentrate. After a while you may feel contact with that person and can speak to him or her and ask questions. You can also invoke your younger or older self with this method. When you are done, thank the person, or yourself, say farewell, then dip your fingers in the salt water and draw a pentagram on the mirror to seal the veil. If at any time the communication becomes troublesome, you can break contact in this manner also.

I have not tried this ritual yet. I noticed I should have posted this earlier so the mirror could be covered for three days. My bad.

Note: As with any ritual, use caution and follow the directions. I am not responsible for any wicked spirits set loose into the world. LOL

Happy Halloween (Samhain)!

Kelley Heckart
'Timeless tales of romance, conflict & magic'
http://www.kelleyheckart.com/
http://kelleysrealm.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/CelticChick
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelley-Heckart/111838455604

Halloween

2009-10-29T10:02:00.000-07:00

Halloween. This word conjures up many different images for me. As a child of the supernatural, I feel at home around all the frightening aspects of Halloween. I love skulls, vampires, werewolves—all the creatures that usually scare other people. I have fond memories carving pumpkins with my family, trick-or-treating and when I got older, dressing up in costumes and going to adult Halloween parties. Halloween is my favorite holiday. I love dressing up as something different, not as a sexy cat or naughty nurse, but as a vampire, wood elf or biker chick. It is fun to pretend to be someone else for one night of the year. When I was single, there was something cool and sexy about meeting a guy on Halloween. As someone else, I felt like I could break free from my inhibitions.

Halloween inspires me to write. The combination of the fall chill, shorter days and autumn scents like wood smoke make me reflective, drawing on that dark half of the year when the ancient Celts felt the barriers fall between the earthly realm and the otherworld of the dead. There is a somber feeling to Halloween, one that turns my thoughts inward and draws ideas out of me. I like to write paranormal/fantasy stories so the darker, solemn half of the year works best for me to set the mood for my stories.

Halloween makes me think of the ancient Celtic Samhain. I sense how the ancient Celts felt this time of year when the golden wheat was reaped, leaving barren fields, or when they had to cull the herds of cattle for winter to ensure the food supply. Surrounded by death, it is easy to understand why they thought the barriers stood open between the realms of the living and the dead. I sense the changes in the seasons that they felt. I hear the whisper of falling leaves, that sense of a hush falling over the earth as winter closes in with its threatening grasp. It is like the earth sleeps until spring when it awakens and blooms again. It must have been frightening to think that winter might never end and I can see why the ancient Celts thought of death as the earth turned barren and cold.

Halloween brings with it the cold, solemn moon that marks the beginning of the dark half of the year, the days grow shorter, the weather hostile. It is a time for me to gather with family and friends. It is a time for reflection and a time for warm fires flickering with the light of hope for the return of spring to begin the cycle over again.

Happy Halloween (Samhain)!

Enter my Halloween contest on my website at http://www.kelleyheckart.com/ Click on the Halloween pumpkin image to take you to the contest page. Contest ends October 31st.

Kelley Heckart
'Timeless tales of romance, conflict and magic'
http://www.kelleyheckart.com/
http://kelleysrealm.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/CelticChick

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelley-Heckart/111838455604

Writing News, NaNo, and a Giveaway

2009-10-29T07:35:00.000-07:00

First things first - I have a huge post-Halloween Trick or Treat giveaway. I came home from Authors After Dark (look out for a longer blog on that later) with a big bag of goodies. Free books from Tease Publishing and Dorchester, author promos, and other good stuff. I'm taking names til November 5. Click here to enter - US winner gets the bag, international reader gets a gift certificate. Good luck!

Secondly, it's been a creative week. Waiting to hear on a submission made - a short M/M piece that is contemporary with a touch of strange magic...depending on how you read it. I should know by early November if it's accepted. If not, I just may make it available through DLP Books, which I really enjoy. I believe I'll always pursue publication through eBook and traditional channels, but there's something to having complete control of your work, right down to distribution and promotion. It's hardly a new concept, either, but the Internet makes it so much easier. I have one more reprint work to bring back from the vaults, then a few original shorts to share in the Dareville world - including a sequel to Daringly Delicious and one for Where Angels Dare to Tread.

For you Dareville readers out there, if there's something specific you'd like to see, I'm up for the challenge. A reader asked for a continuation of Daringly Delicious, so it's in the works. That is, along with the six thousand other WIPs I have.

I signed up for NaNo again, because I'm a masochist. My title keeps changing, but for now I'll call it Project Elvis and leave you guessing. It will be urban fantasy, not necessarily erotic, but I'm pantsing this one so we'll see.

Sable's Halloween Fun and The Graveyard Dagger

2009-10-28T21:27:00.000-07:00

Painting by Susie Pastor ~ http://susiepastorart.com ~

First ~ From the Halloween Adventures of Black Cat Beauty

Relishing the chance to be in her black cat form, Sable crouched low on her belly, the wet cool leaves of autumn barely noticed. Pricking her ears she listened to the hayride wagon’s approach. She ignored the piercing rumble of the tractor engine, concentrating on the one wheel that softly creaked.
Anticipation and impatience twitched the tip of her tail. If she timed it just right, the fun would be Halloween spooky and cat-tastic Twilight now crept over the farm fields, and, already several of the teenagers sexually giggled. Many of them rubbed against each other, exploring.
Sable feline smiled, then crouched lower, preparing to spring like a demon. Instead of listening, she focused on the rolling vibration of the wagon and the mice smells embedded in the lovely fragrance of the hay. Once the wagon came into sight, she followed the spin of spokes. Tightening her sleek muscles, she waited until the edge of the second wheel appeared.
Sable launched above the wagon. Lengthening her body in mid-flight, she unsheathed her claws for effect and loosed a yowling shriek. One girl screamed bloody murder as Sable lightly landed on a pile of hay.
Immediately, she dashed like a feral black cat around the group of teenagers, scrabbling intentionally over their laps and legs. They froze or jumped in terror. Shrill yelps split the air and the wagon halted with a big jerk.
Zigzagging madly between the freaked out teens, Sable nimbly avoided their panicked swats and frantic kicks. Clumps of hay flew everywhere, then swirled around them like a blizzard.
For more cat grins, Sable seized her opportunity, leaping toward the man driving the tractor. His eyes widened, looking like twin full moons. “What the hell –“
With a plop, Sable landed on top of his wide-brimmed straw hat. Sinking her claws in, she clung for a few moments while he wildly grabbed for her snaking black tail.
Satisfied to her feline core, Sable balanced herself long enough to leap and sail to the safety of a low-hanging limb. Settling herself on a wide branch, she watched the human show below.
~~~~~~

Kharmen has been Sable’s friend ever since they met at one of the first Renaissance Festivals. Kharmen invited her to come dance during a late-night gathering of her kinsman at the gypsy encampment they’d setup for the festival.
~~~

The Graveyard Dagger ~

The dagger, I must find my family’s ancient dagger or watch everyone I care for perish, die gruesomely at the hands of an old, human-like breed recently loosed from their containment in a deep underground cavern. To live, these creatures with pearl-pale skin tinted by gray, with eyes that can glow blood-red, feed on the blood of my kinsmen. No, not with fangs like a vampire. They slice open a vein and drink greedily from the scarlet fountain or let it fill their strange ornate chalices.
How do I know this? I’m a Seer. I watched it happen in my visions while I silently screamed in horror. Days later, the bodies of the victims were found, drained of all blood. They were my relatives across the pond, who live on the Emerald Ilse.
Buffeting winds knife through me and I clutch my coat tighter as I walk quickly up the long rise of ground. With winter around the corner, the grass has browned in our family’s graveyard, begun in 1801 when we moved to Kentucky.
Swiftly, the mist of our spell swirls around me like haunting apparitions, then reveals what has been kept hidden from the rest of the world. Not only the few graves of my ancestors, but the immense stone vault I must enter in search of the dagger. No, it won’t be so easy as prying open the door. I must summon a power I have never used before.
At a sound, like the scrape of a boot, I whirl. The wind slaps strands of my long hair across my face. I’ve kept it loose, free from any restraint because it increases the strength of my supernatural abilities, so little used in these modern times.
The inane urge to shout ‘who goes there’ purses my mouth as a dark form takes shape and moves toward me. Soon, I see the gait of a man, a tall imposing figure.
Damn, I know him. I shudder inside, then seethe with utter rage, the red boil of my blood before my eyes. His betrayal rises up my throat like bile. I want to scream above the loud moans of the wind, shriek as crazily as a hoyden at him. I want to hurl the largest stone I can find and lift.
“Kharmen.” His voice is like thick smoke and already it spirals through me, a carnal sorcery. “You need me.”
“I never needed you.” Refusing to gaze at him fully, I spin around. “Go away. I don’t want to waste my energies getting rid of you!”
Somehow, he captures my hand from behind, a gentle grasp only. He knows my power if he pushes me beyond reason.
“You need me,” he repeats. “I will add to your magick, as it was before.”
‘As it was before’, his words cut worse than any dagger stabbing into my flesh over and over. Yet, to the truth, he is correct.
“Stand beside me,” I order, then extend my arm toward the vault door. We twine hands in a knot of power. I aim my finger and ‘see’ the dark violet streams strike the copper circlet before they actually burst forth.
As I envision it, so it now occurs. The bolts of violet light explode against the copper and spark magnificently. Suddenly, the vault door blows open, as if sucked free by a tornado.
We enter quickly, our hands still locked. There’s only so much time before it will close again. I wave my palm creating a soft illumination. In my mind’s eye I focus on the appearance of the dagger, knowing that will lead me to it’s location.
“Here!” I pull him toward the ruby-encrusted slender case that sits by itself on top of one altar.
“No!” He hauls me back against his brawny chest, so familiar I heave in breaths of need and fight a heady desire. “Don’t touch it.”
“Why?” I demand.
“Remember, Kharmen,” he intones hypnotically, “remember.”
The fog, of centuries long past, vanishes from my mind and I recall the early teachings of my magickal heritage. Reluctantly, I let the memory surface to its fullest. There must be the touch of Two, a woman and man united by love.
Once we loved. Our savage and wildly beautiful couplings knew no boundaries, the pleasures limited only by the sky itself. Once is all the love I have. I turn, moving within his embrace, an acceptance of what I must do.
“Make it fast.”
The last word barely passes my lips before he is sweeping me against him. His mouth on mine, he seizes the kiss I give him with a raw bold passion that makes me his, once again.
Together, we claim the dagger.
Together, we race from the vault. The fiercer winds blast against our bodies as we run down the hill. Halting, we accept the shelter of the grand oak tree’s large trunk.
Together, we chant the sacred words, opening the ancient case, handmade by the first of us to arrive on Earth.
The crescent-shaped blade of the dagger shimmers beyond the day’s poor gray light. The sheen of gold and silver dances in mesmerizing ripples as we behold our race’s salvation. For, only the dagger’s enchanted blade will pierce the hearts of our enemies destroying them for an eternity.
~~~
“I will never forgive you,” I say, my voice more breath than sound.
“Yes, you will.” Drakayle leans toward me intimately, pressing his forehead to mine and I feel the primal splendor of his power, stronger than it was before.
“I may love you. But I will never forgive you.” The swell of my heart for him should not be, yet it is.
“I will convince you. You will know my worthiness.”
“Worthiness, no,” I challenge. “Necessity, yes, against our enemy.” Desperately, I wish for his lips on mine again.
Torrents of energy from the dagger we hold together act as a barrier against the wind’s whirling force. Inside our own cocoon, our lips meet, caressing each other.
~~~~~~

BLACK CAT BEAUTY

Blurb: A private Halloween party in a gothic mansion hidden in the Hollywood Hills. Add one party crasher, Sable Kiki, a naughty black cat with a sexy wild human side.
Her covert assignment from her devious, always-cunning father: use her seductive wiles to find out the truth from Devon Zant, a movie star on the rise to super stardom.
Posing as the superhero actor, Devon Zant, D’Torr has arrived on Earth seeking revenge for the capture of his younger brother, and to assist in stopping a powerful enemy.
The leviathan warfleet of the Altirrux wants rule of all intergalactic trade routes to Earth, endangering the survival of D’Torr’s race, and all the inhabitants of the rare blue jewel, Earth.
~~~

HAPPY SPOOKY HALLOWEEN

~ MAY ALL YOUR READING DREAMS COME TRUE ~

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
Red Lioness Tamed
When a Good Angel Falls ~ IN PRINT
Tangerine Carnal Dreams
Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ IN PRINT
Black Cat Beauty
Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ IN PRINT
Stallion of Ash and Flame

Take a walk on the dark side...when nightmares come true.

2009-10-28T05:48:00.000-07:00

The Dark Side of Writing Dark, Romantic Suspense

What would you do if a killer were hunting you? What if you’re child was the target? What if the killer was someone you knew?
Ask any author who writes dark romantic suspense and they’ll tell you, it ain’t no walk in the park at times.
I think even for writers who create fictitious killers it’s still disturbing to consider that there are really such depraved people living in the world amongst us.To make a believable killer you have to do your homework.
For me, I love to watch Forensic Files and 48 Hours Mystery on TV. You can gain a great deal of knowledge simply by studying old case files.So why do people kill? Well, most psychologists will tell you there are two fundamental reasons someone will take another life. Love and money.
Both truly are the root of all evil.In SILENT WITNESS, my latest release from Cerridwen Press, the killer was someone who loved the story’s heroine, Faith McKenzie obsessively, and was willing to do anything to make her his, even if it meant killing her to keep her from belonging to anyone else.
But there is another type of killer that is far more evil and cunning than all others. He’s extremely intelligent, he can blend into society well enough to be the neighbor next door, and he lacks anything resembling a conscience. He’s a sociopath known as the serial killer.
The FBI estimates that today there are some 50 active serial killers working among us in the US alone. That’s a frightening statistic to consider.
In DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES, my first release from Cerridwen Press, my heroine, Megan Beaumont had psychic powers that allowed her to witness the unimaginable pain inflicted by the Angel of Death serial killer on his victims. It almost ended up costing Megan her life when she became the Angel's final victim.
For me, writing about the dark side of romance is both rewarding and challenging. The characters leave their mark on you and make it hard to move on to the next story.
And if they’re really chilling, they make it hard to sleep with the lights off at night.
All the best…
Mary Eason

Welsh Will o' the wisps, the Ellylldan

2009-10-27T01:23:00.000-07:00

I'm Welsh, and very proud of it, as anyone who knows me will tell you. I grew up with the stories and legends of Wales, such as 'Twm Sion Cati' (the Welsh Robin Hood) and tales of mischievous spirits and faeries (the Tylwyth Teg, or 'fair folk')

We don't make nearly as much of Halloween here in the UK as you do in the US, but we certainly have our share of spooks, goblins and demons in our myths and legends.

When I was writing my story for the Wild Rose Press's series 'Song Of The Muses', it seemed only natural to send my heroine, the Greek Muse Terpsichore to Wales, and to make the most of the legends and characters she might encounter, I set it in the 5th Century, a particularly magical time. My muse might have been a Greek goddess, but she was still capable of being frightened and one scary experience she had was with the Ellylldan.

The Ellylldan is a species of elf or goblin, corresponding to the English Will-o'-wisp. The Welsh word 'dan' means fire; dan also means a lure; In Welsh myths, the ellylldan appears carrying at its finger-ends five lights, which spin round like a wheel. There are variations of this creature in many other cultures, including Scandinavia, Germany etc. The southern seaboard states of America invest their equivalent of this goblin with an exaggeration of the horrible creature, peculiarly their own. They call it Jack-muh-lantern, and describe it as a hideous creature five feet in height, with goggle-eyes and huge mouth, its body covered with long hair, and which goes leaping and bounding through the air like a gigantic grasshopper. This frightful apparition is stronger than any man, and swifter than any horse, and compels its victims to follow it into the swamp, where it leaves them to die. The Welsh will o'the wisp, the Ellylldan, is no less frightening.

Like all goblins of this class, the EllylIdan was, in legends, seen dancing about in marshy grounds, into which it led the unwary wanderer, who would disappear in the marsh never to be seen again.

Excerpt from Dancing with Fate

The sparks of light appeared a few hours before dawn. Terpsichore looked across to where she could just make out Myrddin, lying close to the fire, apparently asleep. She stood and wrapped her brat (shawl) around her shoulders. What unearthly lights were these? In the name of Hades, she had never seen anything like this before.

She watched them, swooping and dancing. They seemed to beckon to her. She walked forward a few steps. This was not natural. She sensed evil, but of a kind she had never come across before. She tried to turn her head, to look away and move back to the fire. Some force compelled her to keep staring at them, to move forward. Further and further from the campfire she wandered. The air grew chill and she pulled her brat more closely around her. The flickering lights gyrated in a wild dance, inviting her to follow them. Dawn was approaching. In the dim early morning light, she could make out demon faces, red glowing eyes, hands outstretched, and flames at their fingertips.

She recoiled in horror. Somewhere in her subconscious, she knew she was in deadly danger, but still she moved forward. They summoned her to follow and she could not help but obey. She tried to call to Apollo, and her father, but her mind was numb. She could reach no one on Olympus. "Myrddin!" No sound came from her lips. still, a strange unearthly power obliged her to walk forward toward those eerie, mesmerizing points of light.

The ground grew soft beneath her feet. Cold mud oozed between her bare toes. The further she walked, the deeper the mud became; eventually, she realized she was up to her waist in chill, muddy water, and she was powerless to turn back, or even to move any more. Zeus, oh, Father, please help me...don't desert me
now.

For the first time in her eternal life, she knew fear. These creatures of nameless evil had her trapped. They would drag her down to the underworld and she would never see Olympus or her family again.

Then strong arms encircled her, swung her round. “Cora, look at me.” She gazed into two pools of azure blue, filled with concern, a pale face set in resolve. Still she had an irresistible urge to look at those weird, flickering lights. She turned her head, and at the same moment, there was a flash like lightning. The ground behind her burst into a wall of blue flame. It blotted out everything, engulfing the demonic lights and the hideous forms that a moment before had lured her onward.

You can purchase Dancing With Fate here: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/hywela-lyn-m-138.html?zenid=fa9764aa3f14b5e39f62c2f62c8795d0
together with my other books, as well as my fantasy 'freeread' 'A Bargain With Death'. (and there is a 10% discount on paranormal titles from my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, until the end of October.)

http://www.hywelalyn.blogspot.com

Get your fright on!

2009-10-26T16:06:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I admit it: I love to be scared.

An old, dark haunted house inhabited by a ghost is probably my favorite way to get my 'fright on.'

So today, I thought I'd share a chilling excerpt from LADY IN WHITE - the first story in my paranormal erotic romance series, 'Bride's Inn.' (Available for sale from www.ResplendencePublishing.com)

Take one spirit - a tortured soul, combine with equal parts of a heroine with a secret, a dark, dangerous 'bad boy' hero, an old house on a windy, rainy night, and you've got a ghost story to help you get your fright on...

*****************

Chapter One
"Sereeeeeeeenaaaaa..."
Serena Reilly rose from her bed, her eyes heavy with sleep.
“I’m coming!”
Outside her bedroom window a spring storm raged, battering Long Island’s rocky north shore. A flash of lightening lit up the night sky as the rain fell in sheets, pounding against the windowpanes, the howl of the wind echoing a mournful cry in the pitch-black night.
"Sereeeeeeeenaaaaa..."
The eerie voice echoed a sad wail like the low howl of the wind whipping through the trees outside. Serena shoved her arms into the sleeves of her robe, shuddering against the cold, damp night air. She rushed out of her bedroom, anxious to get to her elderly charge, Clarice Masters. As she ran down the hallway towards Clarice’s room, she heard the heartrending cry once more.
"Sereeeeeeeenaaaaa..."
Her heart pounded as she rushed down the long corridor, stopping in front of Clarice’s room. She opened the door and stepped inside, the absolute stillness of Clarice’s darkened bedroom greeting her. Serena padded towards the bed to find her charge sound asleep.
She eased into a nearby chair, her body trembling. Night after night, she heard that eerie voice calling to her. It sounded like a woman…a sad, lonely woman.
Serena shrank back in the chair, her fingers tightening on the arms when she heard a deep rumbling and a crack of thunder that shook the entire house. She covered her ears to block the sound of a loud crash, squinting when bright, blinding light illuminated the sky and a jagged stroke of lightening struck the ancient oak tree right outside Clarice’s bedroom window. It split the branch from the tree trunk in one stroke, the tips of the branches grazing the windowpane as it fell to the ground, the sound like fingernails scraping against a chalkboard.
Serena trembled, every nerve ending in her body vibrating as she watched the scene unfold through terror-filled eyes. She huddled in the chair, pulling her shaking legs up onto the seat, wrapping her arms around her knees to stop their knocking.
“My nephew used to climb that tree when he was little.”
Serena jumped at the sound of Clarice’s voice. The older woman sat up in bed, her eyes settling on the rain as it ran down the windowpane.
“Are you all right?” Serena asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. She reached over and fluffed the pillow behind Clarice's snow-white curls. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Serena gently took the older woman’s hands in her own. She rubbed them, warming the thin skin.
Clarice angled her head, her large blue eyes intense. “I’m fine, dear. Why do you ask?”
“I thought I heard…never mind.” Serena chose to not say anything about the mysterious voice she heard in the dead of night. It would only frighten Clarice. “Well, since I’m up, can I get you anything?” Serena asked.
Clarice smiled, the corners of her mouth lifting in a wide grin. “A glass of warm milk would be nice.” Then she yawned, ruining the effect.
Serena hid a grimace and wondered, not for the first time, how Clarice could drink that concoction she loved of warm milk and…butter. Yuck.
She forced a cheerful smile. “Coming right up.”
She padded down the main staircase and entered the kitchen, flipping on the light switch. As she walked towards the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of milk, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. A cold breeze wafted by, swirling around her ankles, lightly brushing her shoulder. She turned, fully expecting to see someone watching her from the shadows.
No one was there.
"I've got to a get a grip," she muttered. After blowing out a shaky breath, she warmed some milk in a pan on the stove and when she finished, topped it off with a piece of butter. The butter floated on the top, forming a nasty yellow film. Screwing up her face, she stirred the butter into the milk, all the while muttering, “Yuck, yuck, yuck….”
Serena filled a glass almost to the brim with the warm milk and butter. She jumped when thunder boomed in the distance, startling her once more. She set the milk on the tray, willing her hands to remain steady.
She left the kitchen and made her way towards the wide staircase in the center hall, steadily balancing the tray as she began her ascent up the long staircase. Confident that she had re-gained her calm, she glanced up, freezing in mid-stride as her gaze fell upon a woman who stood at the top of the stairs.
A thin, white veil shrouded her face and she wore a long, white gown studded with beads and flowers. Serena blinked as she gazed at the woman, the dress appearing…ancient. As the woman neared, Serena could see that some of the exquisite beadwork and tiny, white flowers had yellowed with age.
“Who are you?” Serena whispered, her voice trembling with fear.
No answer.
The woman continued her steady descent and Serena backed up, alarm filling her with every step the mysterious woman took. She appeared to float down the stairs, her slippered feet barely skimming each tread.
Serena fought a rising tide of panic. Who was this woman? What if she was here to hurt Clarice? She would never forgive herself if something happened to her elderly charge. Mustering her courage, she took a deep breath and willed her feet to move, her hands shaking as she gripped the tray, determined to toss its contents at the stranger if she dared try to harm her.
The woman did not appear to notice Serena as she drew near, clutching a bouquet of white roses in her hands, her gaze focused beyond Serena. She lifted her arm then, and pointed at the front door. Serena glanced back at the entrance, peering through the glass pane on the door.
A shadow moved outside.
Frantic, she turned back towards the stairs but the strange woman had vanished. She blinked, thinking she was losing her mind. First, the fierce storm had her jumping out of her skin, and now it seemed that her fuzzy mind played tricks on her. The doorknob rattled, followed by fierce pounding. A face pressed against the glass, the nose and lips grotesquely distorted, a dark monster staring through the small pane of glass.
She dropped the tray, the tumbler containing Clarice’s treat shattering into a thousand shards as milked spilled everywhere, seeping across the polished wood floor.

************

www.CatherineChernow.com

Silver Silence Excerpt

2009-10-26T12:00:00.000-07:00

Silver Silence, book 3 of my Druids of Avalon trilogy is in bookstores Oct 27 – just in time for Halloween!

One lucky reader who comments on today’s post by midnight ET on Saturday Oct 31 will win an autographed copy of Celtic Fire, the “prologue” book to the Druids of Avalon trilogy (The Grail King, Deep Magic, Silver Silence).

Please consider including your email with your post so I can contact you quickly if you win! And if you don’t…check out more chances to win at my personal blog and my website www.joynash.com

Also, if you plan to pick up a copy of Silver Silence, it would be great if you could do it near the book's release date of Oct 27, because a book's release weeks sales are the most important to the publisher!

Thanks and good luck to all!

***just in: Last week's winner of Celtic Fire is... Savanna Kouger!

And now an excerpt from Silver Silence...

The shore was cold and damp. The seat of Rhys’s breeches was wet where his arse touched the ground. The discomfort was welcome. Or, if not exactly welcome, tolerated. It allowed Rhys to focus on the wretchedness of his body, rather than the wretchedness of his soul. For that small distraction, he was grateful.

Silence spread like a woolen blanket over Avalon. Far off, a raptor screeched. The village, however, slept. Rhys had tried to do the same, on the spare pallet in Trevor’s roundhouse. He was as tired as he could ever remember—exhausted in soul as well as body. But sleep would not come.

Sleep never came to him easily, here on Avalon.

Aye, he could drop off at a moment’s notice camped by the road, under trees and sky. He slept effortlessly in vermin-ridden haylofts, or wrapped in a thin blanket in front of some stranger’s hearth. And he’d slumbered soundly in any number of beds belonging to widows and whores.
But here in Avalon, surrounded by the people he loved, and who loved him in return, he could not sleep. His loneliness was too profound, his hurt too deep.

He wanted what he could not have. Desperately.

Gwen had scolded him soundly for staying away so long. He was sorry to have frightened his twin. Once they had been so close, they had shared nearly every thought, but now Gwen’s husband was first in her heart, and her connection with her twin had faded. Still, his sister loved him deeply, even if she understood him less well. He wondered if she suspected that Breena was the reason Rhys had stayed away so long.

Now that he could no longer tell himself she was too young to give herself to a man, he could not look at her without wanting her beneath him. Or on her knees, her red lips parting eagerly. Or bent over a bed, or chair, or even a log, as he slaked his lust like a rutting beast. Or with her wrists bound—

He broke that sickening thought with a shudder of raw guilt.

Marcus would kill him for even imagining such things about Breena. But Rhys couldn’t help it. He might travel to Hibernia, or the far northern isles…he might warm the beds of a thousand whores…he might drink himself to oblivion, or walk until he dropped…. And still he would not be able to wipe Breena from his mind.

The worst of his torment, perhaps, came from the knowledge that had he truly belonged to Avalon, he would have been able to have her. If his grandfather had not condemned him to a life of homelessness. Even though Cyric was dead, Rhys did not for one moment imagine he could give up his wandering on Avalon’s behalf. He’d seen, through Cyric’s magic, the terrible future Britain would face if Rhys abandoned his search for Druid magic. Only by bringing the most powerful Druids to Avalon, to be trained in the Light, could he ensure that darkness would not overtake his land and his people.

Aye, Cyric’s vision of Britain’s precarious future meant that happiness was a blessing Rhys would never know. Perhaps there might have been hope, had Breena been raised in poverty, as Rhys had been. Until four years ago, Breena’s home had been a prosperous Roman estate. She’d been born to luxuries Rhys hadn’t even known to dream of during his own childhood. The comfort and security of the Celtic settlement of Avalon was a primitive life for her. The hard life of a wandering minstrel’s wife? He almost laughed. Unthinkable.

He stared into the fog and the darkness. He should not have come. Visiting Avalon, far from comforting him, had only driven loneliness and hopelessness deeper into his cold heart.

“Rhys?”

He would have known her voice at a hundred paces. As it was, she spoke from only a few steps behind his back. He dropped his head and pressed his forehead to his bent knees. He could not face her. Not now. Perhaps if he gave no answer, she would simply leave.

He should have known better. Even as a small lass, Breena had been too stubborn for her own good.

“Rhys, what are you doing here all alone? Are you…all right? You’re not ill, are you?”

He admitted defeat by lifting his head. “Nay.”

He didn’t look back as she approached. His body tightened as she neared, the scent of roses wafting before her. He could not suppress the wholly inappropriate hardening of his body.

She stood beside him, just visible in his peripheral vision, hesitant, shivering. His first instinct was to pull her into his arms and warm her. But because he had some measure of honor left, he did not.

“Why are you here?” Her teeth chattered a little. She rubbed her arms. “The whole village is asleep.”

“You are not.”

She did not answer. He did not rise, nor did she move to sit. He glanced up at her, but could not discern her expression in the darkness.

“But you should be asleep,” he said. “Did you follow me, Bree?”

“Yes,” she confessed. “I woke and…I needed air. I opened my shutters, and saw you leave Trevor’s roundhouse. When you did not return….”

“You should not have come after me. You should be in bed.”

She hugged herself more tightly. “I…have not been able to sleep much of late.”

He caught the tremor of fear in her voice. “The silver visions?” he asked sharply. “Have they returned?”

“Yes, the visions….” She blew out a white plume of breath. “But that is not all. You were gone so long. Even Gwen was frightened for you. As for me…I think of you often, Rhys. Especially at night, when I….” Her voice faltered.

Dear gods in Annwyn! He did not want to hear this. She stood so close now, her skirt brushed his knee. Exactly when she’d moved, he did not know.

She sat down beside him. He fought the urge put his arm around her. Or get up and run. He wasn’t sure which he wanted to do more.

“The ground is wet,” he said.

“I don’t care.”

A heavy silence fell between them. It lengthened into awkwardness. The night seemed to contract around him, until the darkness contained nothing but the lap of water on the shore, the shush of Breena’s breathing, and his own pounding heart.

He inhaled her scent. She must have put rose oil in her bathwater. It was a Roman fragrance, very much prized by wealthy women. The aroma seemed to draw a thin, straight line between them. He did not try to cross it. He knew better.

Unfortunately, she did not. “Will you stay the winter in Avalon? I…I do hope so. Everyone has missed you.” She paused. “I have missed you.”

He was ashamed at how fiercely he drank in those four words. She had missed him. His cock responded, even as he fought to remain detached from a rush of tangled emotions. In the grand scheme of things, it did not matter that Breena missed him.

“I’ll stay perhaps a sennight,” he said. “Until the harvest feast. After that…I must go.”
She uttered a sound of dismay. “But that is hardly any time at all! Gwen will not have it, Rhys, I am telling you that right now. She will not allow you to—”

“My sister has no authority over my comings and goings.” The words were harsher than he’d intended.

Breena sucked in a breath. “I…I didn’t mean to imply that she did. Only…only that she loves you. She misses you dreadfully when you’re gone.”

“No one should miss me. I am not a part of Avalon.”

“How can you say that? Why, you’re the most important part of us! Without you, the sacred isle would be all but deserted. Most of us are here only because you brought us.”

It was true. Of Cryic’s original small band of Druids, only Mared and Padrig remained. And Gwen, of course. All the others… Dead. Or lost.

As Rhys was.

“I’m used to wandering,” he told her. “I am more comfortable on the road.”

“What nonsense! You could not possibly be.”

He made no reply.

“Mared says in the past, when Cyric was alive, you visited far more often, and stayed longer. But now that your grandfather is dead, and your freedom greater, you stay away. Rhys, is it…is it because of me? Do you…do you hate me so much?”

He turned so abruptly she lurched backward. He grabbed her arm to steady her. He released her an instant later, as if he’d touched a hot coal.

“I could never hate you.” He swallowed. “How could you imagine such a thing? You are like a sis—

“I am not your sister! I never was, and I don’t want to be. Rhys, I lo—”

“Gods in Annwyn, Breena!” He jerked to his feet. “Do not say it. Please.”

She stared up at him. “Why not? It is the truth.”

“What you want from me can never be the truth between us.”

Slowly, she pushed to her feet, regarding him with sober eyes. “Rhys. You are shaking.”

He was. He turned and paced a few steps away. His hand went to the back of his neck. He needed some space.

But her voice followed. “I understand now why you rejected me that day at my father’s house. I know why you flung all those hurtful words at me. I was too young for what I was asking of you. But, Rhys, that was four years ago. I’m no longer that girl. I’m a woman now.”

He clenched his teeth. Gods. Aye, she was a woman. A lush, tempting….

Her words battered him. “There’s no longer any need to push me away. Don’t you see? I love you, Rhys. I always have, and I always will. And I think you l—”

Something snapped inside him. He spun around, and stalked toward her. “Breena, stop. Before you say something you’ll regret.”

“No! I won’t. I’ll say what’s in my heart. I lov—mmph!”

He’d covered her mouth with his palm. His other hand gripped her shoulder. “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Don’t.”

Her eyes were huge. In the moonlight they looked gray rather than the clear blue he knew them to be. And in them…a spark of dangerous, feminine knowledge.

Her lips parted. Her breath bathed his palm. Before he could react, before he could even think, she tasted his skin with the tip of her hot, wet tongue.

Don't forget to stop by my personal blog Friday Night Reflections, where you'll find more excerpts and more chances to win! All the best!

Joy
www.joynash.com

All the best!

Joy
www.joynash.com

Flash Fiction ~ Vampire Romance

2009-10-23T18:43:00.000-07:00

Painting by Russel Mobley ~ http://russelmobley.com ~

Zhario of the Dark Server Unit

~ The Midnight Meeting ~

ONE
Zhario sniffed for the acrid bloom of scent that would rapidly lead him to the mutant he hunted. Hunted to extinction. He laughed inside at his own dark humor. He could hear the swine mutant’s heavy tread in a city alleyway, as he searched for prey, preferably a hapless human. But any stray would do. Covered by the night, Zhario swiftly unfurled his great black wings, and launched from the low rooftop. The odor of the mutant had peaked, meaning he’d sighted a victim. Diving, Zhario caught a yellowish flash from the mutant’s tusk. “Cupid, come back here. Cupid, please!”

TWO
The woman’s shrill desperate voice would have cut to his heart, if he’d had one. Zhario swooped faster along the alleyway. This wouldn’t be an easy kill now. The mutant loped toward the woman, instead of feeding on her pet. Close enough to the ugly brown brute, Zhario’s fangs snapped out. The woman stood in a pool of neon light, paralyzed by fear, holding her dog tight against her bosom. Focusing on the mutant, he arrowed his flight. Landing on the brute’s back, he sank his clawed fingers into the mutant’s thick greasy hide. Rearing back, he unhinged his mouth.

THREE
The woman’s scream bounced through alleyway, eerily echoing. Zhario bit, feeling his dagger-like fangs slide deep into the flesh that served as the mutant’s neck. Greenish blood spurted from a severed vein. Infuriated by what the mutant considered a petty attack that interrupted his dinner, he bucked like a fiend, repeatedly slamming his body against the concrete walls on either side of them, and sending a dumpster flying. Zhario hung on, withdrew his fangs, then sliced them over and over into the mutant’s boar-like strength, shredding his shoulder muscles. The woman shrieked hysterically, as if she could stop their battle.

FOUR
Stabbing his fangs beneath the mutant’s pig ear, Zhario found his artery, and ripped through it. Squealing horribly, the brute grabbed his neck with his pork-steak hand, trying to stop his blood from spurting like a fire hose. Unerringly, Zhario slipped forth his enchanted knife, and dealt the death blow. The mutant disappeared beneath him. At the same time, the woman and her dog were suspended in the sorcery vortex. He had to decide what to do with her. A full mind wipe was impossible. She’d witnessed too much, and the horror was embedded in her psyche. He felt it.

FIVE
Zhario stopped dead in his tracks. Funny, he thought, since he was dead to the human world. Her resemblance to his first love was uncannily similar. His loins lurched. Hellblade, his whole body lurched toward her, and wanted. Savagely wanted and tenderly wanted. His mind wanted to believe it was her, even though rational thought told him different. It was the woman’s face that reached in, grabbing his soul, and gripping his aching hungry balls. Stone-rot, he couldn’t leave her here to endure a lifetime of nightmares. She’d probably end up in a mental institution, drugged into a constant fog.

SIX
Stepping forward in a move he knew he would come to fiercely regret, especially since it was against the Dark Server code, Zhario wrapped her inside his wings. She awakened as he levitated them upwards. To halt the scream surging up her throat, he kissed her, hard at first, then more forcefully as her lips responded. He wondered if it was just her instinctive reaction to his kiss, or if she truly felt a sudden passion claim her, as he wanted to claim her. Barely, he heard her dog ferociously growl at him. Hellblood, Victoria waited for him. Now what?

SEVEN
Despite the attack of her dog, their lips didn’t unlock. Instead, their kiss deepened into a soft rage of passion. Maybe he’d toss the dog at Victoria, now that it had bitten him and would be turned. Victoria loathed dogs, especially vampire dogs. Zhario wrapped his legs tightly around the woman. Unfurling his wings, he soared them toward the rooftop of his warehouse home. To his astonishment their mouths remained fused in a blaze of lust that would have sent him up a bonfire, if real. Was she so terrified this was her primal reaction? Kiss him into carnal surrender?

EIGHT
Zhario silently landed them beside his rooftop entry. With her dog in a stupor of adjustment, he concentrated on her, tenderly parting their lips. “Home,” he uttered as he folded his wings inside his back cavity. “Home?” She blinked and he observed the haze of passion filling her aquamarine eyes. He considered turning her, but that would deplete his strength. If Victoria attacked, he could lose. Besides, he didn’t want to turn her this way. “What’s your name?” He hoped like Hell’s Own she would tell him. “I dreamed about you,” she whispered. “I’m Karra. Are you really a vampire?”

NINE
“Yes, Karra. But don’t be afraid. I don’t want to harm you.” He watched the reality of her situation surface in her eyes. “Oh.” Her breathing quickened. “You saved me, didn’t you? From that beast thing?” Hell help him, she was adorable beyond any words, even more so than his lost love. “I belong to the Dark Server Unit. We eliminate beasts like that.” Cradling her dog in one arm, she draped herself against him. “Thank you. Good lord, you can kiss. My lips are still tingling. Can you do it again?” For instants, Zhario couldn’t recover his voice. “Yes...”

TEN
“Zhario, darling, I see you brought dinner home.” Victoria stood in the entryway, a sly smile altering her perfect features. Fiercely eyeing the vampiress, Zhario demanded, “You will leave my home immediately. I have discovered my High Mate.” Victoria didn’t bat an eyelash. “Prove it. If she doesn’t possess the mark...” Zhario interrupted, “I will prove nothing to you. Leave, at my word.” Karra shifted in his embrace. “Do you mean this mark?” Swivelling her head, she moved her blouse collar aside revealing the black wings of his House. Victoria shrieked, vanishing after an ugly snarl. Zhario kissed his Karra.
~~~~~~

HAPPY SPOOKY HALLOWEEN

~ MAY ALL YOUR READING DREAMS COME TRUE ~

Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
Red Lioness Tamed
When a Good Angel Falls ~ IN PRINT
Tangerine Carnal Dreams
Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ IN PRINT
Black Cat Beauty
Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ IN PRINT
Stallion of Ash and Flame
~~~~~~

Finding the Right Vampire

2009-10-23T15:28:00.000-07:00

I love vampires and wanted to have one in one of my books, but the only vampires I seem to see in fiction are the Dracula/European type vampires. I think Ann Rice traced her vampires back to ancient Egypt, which I thought was an intriguing idea. So I wanted to do something different and create a fictional vampire different from other vampire stories. Vampire lore has been around for centuries and every culture has a vampire-like creature so I had many to choose from.

After doing some research, I decided to go with a vampire known in ancient Greece. My story is set in sixth century Scotland and I decided to have my heroine cursed by the Levite priests (during the time of Saul) for worshipping the Great Goddess and forced to live for an eternity as a Lamia, half-woman, half-serpent. According to legend, the Lamia were named after Libyan Queen Lamia and were exclusively female vampires. They were also known to have the power to shapeshift into beautiful young maidens to attract and seduce young men. Lamia are also associated with Lilith, the first wife of Adam. I felt this type of vampire worked for my story and created conflict between my hero and heroine because he is Christian and she follows the Old Religion of the Great Goddess.

My vampire character's hunger is satisfied by sexual pleasure and blood, something I call the 'bloodlust.' She also has black, bat-like wings, which she can open or hide with a simple spell. The name I gave her reflects her transformation into a blood drinker. While reading The White Goddess, I came across Cardea, a Roman form of The White Goddess. She was a witch who snatched children and sucked their blood. This Cardea sounded evil so I transformed her into a lustful creature instead of one who enjoyed destroying children. I didn't want my heroine to be perceived as evil. Plus, being cursed, she could not control her need for blood, but she still possessed some human emotions. Mainly, I fell in love with the exotic name and wanted her to have a Greek/Roman sounding name. Since she was cursed to be a vampire, she cannot make other vampires and fire is her greatest enemy because the Levite priests worshipped fire.
Below is an excerpt from Cat's Curse.

Excerpt:
AD 564, Alba

The hunt called to her, singing in her veins. Moonbeams cleaved through the frozen night, striking the earth between outstretched branches like gleaming metal blades. Cold air cut into her bones with sharp, icy talons, reminding her she had once been mortal. Venturing further into the thick forest of tall pine, oak, beech, birch and rowan, Cardea's booted feet crunched on the frost-encrusted earth, her senses searching out the sweet scent of blood.

A sharp sound roared on the black wings of night. Something stirred in the forest, waking slumbering birds in a nearby wide-branched tree. Wings fluttered far above her head, breaking the silence of the night followed by a man's deep voice echoing in the night, sounding like a thread of angry curses.

A pleased smile formed on Cardea’s lips. The strong scent of blood stirred her senses--warm blood…and human. Like an experienced predator, she adjusted her step, moving on silent feet through carpets of fern toward the scent of fresh blood, eager to sate her thirst. She moved like a shadow, darting in and out of the lofty trees.

Another sound stirred the hushed, sleeping wood. Something moved toward her through the forest at a fast pace, crunching leaves and twigs beneath pounding feet. Cardea stopped in her tracks, her body shimmering into the shadows.

The baying of hounds tore through the night.

She froze. Fear struck her like a resounding hammer blow. Could they be demon hunters coming for me? Demon hunters used hounds because animals could sense her even when she became one with the shadows. In her haste to hunt the human, she failed to notice the scent of hounds. Before she could react, two hounds the size of calves had her pinned to the ground, stunned. They licked her face, showering her face with drool.

A man’s deep voice shouted out a command for the dogs to back off. Cardea sputtered, struggling to get the slavering beasts off her.

“Fian, Donnan!” The two hounds backed off, obeying their master’s stern command.

Cardea pushed on her arms to sit up and faced the sharp edge of a sword blade, the sight of which made her draw in a sharp breath and remain still. The splash of pale moonlight revealed a man with long black hair standing over her, his great height matching a towering oak, his arms thick and muscled as oak branches.

“I would not move if I were ye, lass.” The man’s thick brogue washed over her, sweet and honey-like.

****
'Kelley Heckart is a multi-talented author who has us believing that anything is possible. She brings her book to life and lets our imaginations soar!' Rated 4 Delightful Divas by Deb!
http://ddrreviews.blogspot.com/2009/10/dark-goddess-trilogy-book-one-cats.html

Happy Halloween!

Kelley Heckart

'Timeless tales of romance, conflict & magic'
http://www.kelleyheckart.com/

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My book page at Awe-Struck
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Bare Bones Humor...

2009-10-23T14:16:00.001-07:00

I think skeletons are my favorite Halloween decorations. They can be scary or silly, in fact, downright zany.

On a long-ago Halloween night, I encountered a very lonely skeleton. I was on my way to a Halloween party to have a howlin' good time, when I ran into this sad bag of bones. When I asked him if he was going to the party that night, he shook his head and replied, his voice filled with longing...

"No, I can't go to the party." The skeleton told me. "I have no body to go with."

Get it? He had 'no body' to go with.

Okay, okay. So maybe, that wasn't quite up to high Halloween humor.

That same Halloween night, I encountered another skeleton on a dark, rainy road. Caught unawares, I had no umbrella, no boots, in fact, I had nothing to combat the deluge of water raining down from the skies above. But this skeleton, oddly enough, had his galoshes (boots) on, a rain coat, and a big umbrella to shield him from the downpour.

I shuddered against the damp cold. The skeleton offered me shelter beneath his umbrella, so I asked him: "I didn't know it was going to rain tonight - the weather forecast didn't mention a thing about it. How did you know it was going to rain?"

"Simple" He shrugged. "I felt it in my bones."

Not laughing yet? Okay, how about this for Halloween hijinks...

I convinced the sad skeleton to stay and attend the Halloween party with me. Now, I don't know if you're aware of this, but skeletons tend to drink just a wee bit too much. Sad Skelly imbibed more than he should that evening, slurping up spiked punch. He ended up sacking out on my couch to sleep it off. The next morning, I tried to wake him up, but he just kept shooing me away.

So, I asked him: "How come you're having so much trouble getting out of bed today? Is it because you had too much to drink last night at the party?"

Skelly the Skeleton's reply: "Nah...I'm having trouble getting out of bed this morning 'cause I'm such a lazy bones."

Well, if you're not rolling on the floor laughing by now, go check out a real funny skeleton...

Achmed the Dead Terrorist.

Achmed is scary, spooky, and just the most incompetent suicide bomber ever. Achmed is one of Jeff Dunham's crazy puppet characters. (Jeff Dunham is a talented ventriloquist with his own show now on the Comedy Channel. Warning: Achmed's humor might offend some, then again, he just might make you laugh so hard, he'll rattle your bones!)

Happy Haunting, everyone!

MAGIC MAN by Catherine Chernow, book three of my haunting, 'Bride's Inn' series of erotic romance. Get your copy today from www.ResplendencePublishing.com. Click here to read an excerpt from MAGIC MAN Catherine Chernow :: Romance Novelist

From...

Catherine Chernow

http://www.catherinechernow.com/

Great Review and a Great Deal!

2009-10-23T07:10:00.001-07:00

I'm so happy to hear Whipped Cream Reviews loved Don't Dare the Reaper! They say in part:

This is a sweet short. I loved how close Cal and Sue are, yet how open a relationship they have. These things helped make them realistic and believable. Ms Ellwood keeps you wondering which way will they go. She does a great job propelling the plot along with hints from the sexy, grim reaper, Gil. Tack on a great happy ending and you've got a lovey afternoon read.

Read the whole thing. I'm so happy I'd like to offer everybody a change to save big on the story. When you go to Smashwords ONLY to buy Don't Dare the Reaper, enter the code VW52X to get this story for only 99 cents! This offer is good only through October 25, during Authors After Dark, so if you haven't bought the book yet now is the time to take advantage of this tricky treat.

2009-10-22T18:41:00.000-07:00

Why We Want Monsters In Our Bed, Not Under It.

As little girls we dread the dark and fear the monsters under our beds. Then we grow up and find ourselves wishing they were in them.

Today there are plenty of sexy shapeshifters, demons, and other dark antiheroes living on women’s bookshelves and providing fodder for their fantasies. However, the dynamics that make these fringe creatures so attractive seem to be most clearly defined and celebrated by the biggest bad of them all—the vampire.

Modern creatures of the night may be rooted in classic mythology and vampire lore, but they’re different, they have to be. In order for authors to set themselves apart in the genre, they must take liberties. They must create something fresh and unique, while at the same time retaining the familiar. That’s the balance that keeps old fans of the genre coming back and attracting new ones.

The tremendously successful Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer is a prime example. Other interpretations include Bram Stoker’s traditional one depicted with cape, Laurel K. Hamilton’s lace and leather-clad version, Charlaine Harris’ down-home vamp with his southern charm and pressed khakis, and my personal favorite, Joss Whedon’s duster-wearing slayer-loving Spike.

So why do we swoon over Dracula, Jean-Claude, Bill, Spike, and Edward?

First let’s cover the obvious. Vampires are immortal. That means they get to stay young and drop-dead (no pun intended) gorgeous forever. Although their youthful appearance is preserved, they become wise as a result of the passage of time and through a collection of worldly experience. Talk about an intensely winning combination.

Then there’s the other really compelling paradox, vulnerable but dangerous. In most scenarios, the vampire was once a human who became an unwilling victim. Relegated to an existence not of their choosing, the vampire has to avoid discovery, sunlight, and the pointy end of a stake while searching for and procuring sustenance. We feel just a little bit sorry for them, even if they are evil, blood-sucking fiends. Now it gets a little weird.

Vampires require blood to survive. Humans are a readily available source of blood. Vampires need us. We like to be needed. We know we’re taking a huge risk and that in the end the vampire is probably going to lose control and bite us, right? Maybe even kill us? Yes! And that’s actually some of the appeal.

It’s not so much that we want to die or be bitten, it’s that we like to be afraid. Fear causes the release of endorphins in the brain, a natural opiate. Endorphins are also released during orgasm. So let’s take this one step further and assume for a minute that the bite is sexual, the encounter erotically charged. Our vampire is getting hotter by the minute, isn’t he?

Now let’s kick it up one more notch and talk about reformation and transformation. This is the idea that our big bad vampire is capable of changing his big bad ways and that suddenly he wants to. Why? Because of you. Your love has saved and transformed him. And what can your vampire give you in return? Only eternity together.

What an intoxicating happily-ever-after.

Browse Samantha's Samhain Books Here

Samantha Sommersby is the author of the critically acclaimed Forbidden series. Sam happily spends her days immersed in the world of the Forbidden, a world where vampires, werewolves, and demons are real, where magic is possible, and where love still conquers all. To learn more about Sam’s books or to sign up for her monthly newsletter visit http://www.samamthasommersby.com.

Haunting Tolla River South: 4

2009-10-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

Continued from yesterday...

HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH
by Emily Ryan-Davis

The week dragged. As Friday drew closer, Jen's students grew more...demonic. Even Ellen Cory, who Jen had believed mute for the first three weeks of the semester, had been party to class disruption that morning. As Jen tossed her tote bag in the back seat of her car, she breathed deep of the cool autumn air and tried to exhale the stress of the day. The sounds of football practice--masculine voices raised in encouragement, grunts of frustration, the piercing shrill of Mal Streyer's whistle--carried across the parking lot. She straightened and rested her forearm atop the roof of her compact car, her eyes straying toward the football field.

She hadn't seen Mal once since agreeing to a date.

Date. She rolled her eyes. If masquerading as the football coach's biker babe could be classified as a date.

Still, undignified occasion or not, she had a date--and nothing to wear. A smile fought its way past her consternation. She might not have anything to wear, but she'd spent the last few days locating biker boutiques in the area and as she slid behind the steering wheel, she said out loud, "I'm going to buy some leather."

A shiver of naughtiness gave her goosebumps. She stated her intention louder and grinned. Her foster mother would roll over in her grave if she even knew.

Visit Halloween @ TRS again tomorrow for the next installment in HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH.

Let me send you a Halloween surprise!

2009-10-22T08:33:00.000-07:00

Trixie Cartwell is up to her usual tricks and her fathers have a way to solve their problems. They’re sending her to summer camp where she’s bound to find some rewards in three delicious man-treats!

Sex Camp is coming to Siren Publishing on Monday, October 26,2009.

It’s Halloween and I have a few tricks up my sleeve! I want to share my Halloween treats with you and here’s how you can receive them:

Purchase any two Natalie Acres books between now and October 31, 2009. Purchases must be made through Bookstrand or Siren Publishing. Send a copy and pasted receipt to natalieacres@yahoo.com with Trick or Treat in the subject line.

Include your full name, mailing address, and a copy of your receipt.

Contest ends at midnight PST on October 31, 2009. Void where prohibited by law. First twenty-five entrants will receive a care package with various surprises. Packages will be shipped no later than November 10, 2009.

Happy Halloween!

My Wilder Nature & the Top Ten Reasons Not to...

2009-10-21T18:28:00.000-07:00

All Hallow’s Eve nears, a time when the veil parts and we get a glimpse of the other side, that is, if we desire it... maybe, even if we don’t. There are tons o’ ghost stories out there and other bizarre spooky encounters that people report, including side trips inside another dimension.
For me, this has traditionally been a time when my wilder nature takes over. I’m restless. I want to run untamed over the land. Trick or treating as a kid wasn’t all about the great big bag candy for me, it was the freedom to roam at night with my friends. I felt so fiercely free, instead of caged by school and other civilized expectations.
As an adult I wanted to explore life in larger ways. I burned with recklessness, with a bonfire-like sexuality. And, yep, I always yearned to be more mischievous, to be as naughty as my black cat shifter heroine, Sable Kiki.
If only... but then, that’s one reason I’m a writer, I get to live the fantasy of *what if*.
~~~

Periodically, I relish writing the ~ TOP TEN REASONS NOT TO ~ promos for my books. It’s just fun to engage my creativity in this way, and I hope it’s entertaining for anyone who reads it.
While looking around for something else, I ran across a list I wrote quite a while ago for BLACK CAT BEAUTY. Feline-fortuitous indeed, since now was the Halloween-purrfect time to finish and use it.

*INSERT HERE* Yep, I love the lists other authors and readers come up with... got one or more you want to share?

Top Ten Reasons *Not* to Read BLACK CAT BEAUTY

10) If celebrating Halloween is just not your thing.

9) If you don’t want a black cat girl sexily sauntering across your path at a Halloween party.

8) If you feel utter disdain for the Hollywood party scene.

7) If you just can’t stand being inside a restored gothic mansion filled with women dressed like their favorite Cat Woman.

6) If the very thought of meeting a Hollywood Witch Bitch with real powers scares you so much you’d go running into the arms of your mommy.

5) If the song, YEAR OF THE CAT, sounds like chalk squeaking across a chalkboard to you.

4) If you despise Superheroes and extraterrestrials on general principle.

3) If you just don’t want a sexy movie star singing in your ear while he plays with his rock band.

2) If you’ve always had a fear of flying or being held in the embrace of a soaring superman.

AND... ta-da...

1) If you’ve never been curious about the endurance of a superhero’s steely rod.
~~~~~~

BLACK CAT BEAUTY

Blurb: A private Halloween party in a gothic mansion hidden in the Hollywood Hills. Add one party crasher, Sable Kiki, a naughty black cat with a sexy wild human side.
Her covert assignment from her devious, always-cunning father: use her seductive wiles to find out the truth from Devon Zant, a movie star on the rise to super stardom.
Posing as the superhero actor, Devon Zant, D’Torr has arrived on Earth seeking revenge for the capture of his younger brother, and to assist in stopping a powerful enemy.
The leviathan warfleet of the Altirrux wants rule of all intergalactic trade routes to Earth, endangering the survival of D’Torr’s race, and all the inhabitants of the rare blue jewel, Earth.
~~~

A letter from Rhys, hero of Silver Silence by Joy Nash

2009-10-21T14:30:00.000-07:00

Note from Joy: Silver Silence, book 3 of my Druids of Avalon trilogy is in bookstores Oct 27 – just in time for Halloween!

One lucky reader who comments on today’s post by midnight ET on Sunday Oct 25 will win an autographed copy of Celtic Fire, the “prologue” book to the Druids of Avalon trilogy (The Grail King, Deep Magic, Silver Silence). Please consider including your email with your post so I can contact you quickly if you win! And if you don’t…check out more chances to win at my personal blog and my website www.joynash.com

Thanks and good luck to all!

To the Once and Future Readers of my tale,

I left Avalon as a lad of fourteen winters.

It was not my choice. The sacred isle was my soul-home. It was there I learned the magic of the Goddess. The white mists cast by Cyric, my grandfather, hid my clan from its enemies. To my mind, there was no reason a Druid should venture into the outside world.

Cyric knew differently. My grandfather's visions showed him a time when the Light would fade from Britain, when war and chaos would threaten the survival of our people. Only on Avalon, hidden in the teachings of The Lady, could the Light survive long enough, grow strong enough, to influence that grim future.

But we were too few on Avalon. We needed children touched by Druid magic, to be trained as Keepers of the Light. It was my duty and my burden to search for those children. I vowed to bring them to Avalon, whatever the cost.

And so began my exile. I was little more than a child myself, carrying no more than the clothes on my back and a harp made by my own hands. Frightened almost beyond my wits. Terrified by every shadow on the road. The first winter storm nearly killed me. I'd wanted it to kill me.

And then came spring. And Breena.

She was a small child when I first saw her. Round and grubby, always smiling. When I looked at her in just the right way, the white Light sang about her head and shoulders. A happy child, well loved by her parents, who were far too trusting in offering a bed to a homeless Celt bard--even one so young as I. For I'd recognized, at first sight, Breena's rare magic. She belonged to Avalon. I would take her there.

Eleven years passed before I succeeded. Eleven long years during which I was a frequent guest in Breena's home. Her family welcomed me, never dreaming I was a viper in their midst. By the time she grew to womanhood, she was deeply embedded in my heart. I did not dare reveal my feelings. Her brother was my friend—he knew Breena, in her innocence, fancied herself in love with me. That she spun happily-ever-after fantasies in her dreams.

She was so young--in years and in experience. A child. I was a man grown, hardened by duty and eternal wandering. Avalon, populated by the Druids I'd plucked from every corner of Britain, was no longer my home. At last, Breena came to dwell on the sacred isle. She learned to master her magic. I was sure she would take a Druid mate. I was even more certain that man would not be me. I remain a wanderer. I will ever be.

And then Myrddin arrived, crashing into my time and my life on a tide of arrogance and forbidden deep magic. The wily old Druid snatched Breena from the very shadow of Avalon, and plunged her into a future of war and chaos…and a deadly Silver Silence.

I followed.

~Rhys

All the best!

Joy

www.joynash.com

Haunting Tolla River South: 3

2009-10-21T14:00:00.000-07:00

Continued from yesterday...

HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH
by Emily Ryan-Davis

Jennifer Mae Parker didn't do parties. Not Christmas, not birthday, not...any. She especially didn't do Halloween parties. For a brief second she considered breaking the long history of no-parties, but her foster mother's voice, pinched and scratchy with disapproval, queued up in the soundtrack of Jen's life.

Girls who go to parties get pregnant. Do you want some child of yours to wind up like you have, living with family that's government instead of blood?

Even though she'd long ago learned the mistruth, the cruelty, in her foster mother's words, Jen had lived her life by them. Good girls didn't go to parties. The girls in her classes, innocent despite their falsely brazen attitudes...they were the reason Jen became so wound up when holidays rolled around. Especially holidays like Halloween, where mischief was the point and the innocent were the targets.

"I can't." She retrieved her pen and bent over her work.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't do parties," she said honestly, figuring better to be up front about her social rules.

Mal chuckled. "I've never been turned down with that line before."

"I'm not turning you down." Frowning, she slashed an X through a student's paragraph about zombie invasions and their correlation to childhood abuse. "I'm saying I don't do parties. Cissy might be interested."

"She might be, but I'm not." He moved, leaving the door and crossing her classroom to stand in front of her desk. "I want to see you outside work."

"I don't think dating a coworker is a good idea," she countered.

"Wear a costume. Nobody will know."

Jen snorted. "And then what? Wear a costume for every future date?"

"You want future dates?" He asked softly.

Damn.

"It's a rhetorical question."

"Mmm. I'm going as a biker. Want to be my biker babe?"

Well, hell. Rule or no rule, how could she turn down an offer like that?

Visit Halloween @ TRS again tomorrow for the next installment in HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH.

I ain't afraid of no ghost!

2009-10-21T13:58:00.000-07:00

Many of us are familiar with that statement from the movie 'Ghost Busters...'

I ain't afraid of no ghost!

Truth be told, if I ever really encountered a ghost, face-to-face, I think I'd be scared.

Then again, I kind of like to be frightened that way.

Like the time I went into a graveyard at night with my friends - we were all teenagers . It was Halloween eve, and we walked through the old cemetary, scared out of our minds, but it was an adventure. At least we thought it was, until we almost fell into an open grave (yikes!). I guess no one ever thought some foolish kids would wander through a graveyard in the dark of night, but then again, they never met me or my friends at the time (we'd do just about anything!).

I'm older now. Wiser. You wouldn't catch me roaming around ANY cemetary at night, but let me tell you about my ghostly encounter that happened not too long ago...

I was in an old tavern in the city of Pittsburgh a couple of years back. I was dining with some of my fellow authors and one of my publishers. While seated at the table, perusing my menu, I got the creepiest feeling that someone or...something...was crouching next to my chair. In my mind's eye, an image came to light of a young man, dressed in a plaid shirt. I quickly closed my menu and sipped my water, trying to make sense of my strange feelings when someone asked me why I had such an odd look on my face.

I told my fellow author, who was seated across from me, that I had the weirdest sensation or feeling that there was someone crouching down low near my chair. I also went on to explain that I thought it was a young man, dressed in a plaid shirt.

I was then informed that the old tavern was supposedly haunted.

Oh boy...I took a deep breath.

The waiter came by and took our orders. He left. The next thing I felt was a banging on the rungs of my chair! I didn't say a word.

One of the other authors, seated at the far end of the table suddenly looks down and says, 'What the heck just hit my chair?'

Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

I then tell her what just happened to me.

One of the other authors said that she felt something, too - she had psychic abilities, and from what she sensed in the old pub, there was indeed a young spirit, prone to mischief-making.

This was my one and only encounter with a spirit, but I've never forgotten it. The memory of it remains, as well as what I felt.

So, I ain't exactly afraid of no ghost...that young man's spirit that I encountered in the tavern didn't scare me off, but it made me think that maybe there really is an afterlife.

What do you think? Have you ever had a ghostly encounter? If you have, share it. I'd like to hear about it.

Now, here's a little ghostly humor: Why did the game warden arrest the ghost?

Answer: Because he didn't have a haunting license.

Happy haunting, everyone!

From...

Catherine Chernow

Romance Author

http://www.catherinechernow.com/

TIGER'S EYE...a haunting read perfect for Halloween!

2009-10-20T14:51:00.001-07:00

TIGER'S EYE by Catherine Chernow...a haunting read perfect for Halloween.

Miranda Hollander seeks refuge from her terrifying past, but her heart won’t find respite from the man with the golden tiger’s eyes. One dark, snowy winter night, Jake Hunter arrives at Bride’s Inn, mistaking Miranda’s room for his. As the storm rages outside, he becomes Miranda’s golden prince, making her soar to heights of passion on gossamer wings, loving her body in ways she could only imagine…

As morning’s first light dawns, it brings reality… revealing the secret her tiger prince harbors, and the real reason he has come to Bride’s Inn.

TIGER’S EYE…Book Two of the ‘Bride’s Inn’ series…a scarefest of paranormal erotic romance!

TIGER'S EYE features the mysterious apparition that haunts Bride's Inn. You'll meet her again in this second story of the series, as well as Seth and Serena from the first story, LADY IN WHITE.

Now, why do ghosts like to ride in elevators?

Because it raises their spirits.

Happy reading (and haunting)!

From...

Catherine Chernow

Read an excerpt from TIGER'S EYE at: Catherine Chernow :: Romance Novelist

Halloween drink recipes

2009-10-20T14:18:00.000-07:00

Vampire Bite
1. Pour about 2 oz. of cranberry juice into a glass.
2. Mix 1 shot pepper Vodka with 1 shot Cinnamon Schnapps in a shaker over ice.
3. Strain the mixture into the glass.
4. Add a dash of raspberry liquor.
5. Coat the rim with just a touch of capsicum for extra bite.

Monster Mash
1. Fill a glass with crushed ice.
2. Pour orange soda until the glass is 2/3 filled.
3. Add chunks of orange pulp or thin slices of orange inside the glass.
4. Fill the drink the rest of the way with Southern Comfort.
5. Garnish with a candy eyeball and a licorice stick.

The Van Helsing
1. Put a dab of ground garlic in the bottom of a chilled martini glass.
2. Add a very thin slice of strong, white onion.
3. Make a martini. Mix 3 parts gin and 1 part dry vermouth. Carefully pour it into the glass so as not to stir up the garlic.
4. Add a few drops of olive juice for flavoring.
5. Garnish with a skewered clove of garlic between two olives.

Tips & Warnings
Adding a bit of dry ice can improve nearly any Halloween drink. Just don't drink the dry ice!
Making a Van Helsing with sweet vermouth and vodka instead of dry vermouth and gin yields a Buffy.
Mix sweet and dry vermouth in equal portions, and your Van Helsing becomes a Blade.
Add a dash of carrot juice to a Van Helsing, and you get a Chester.
Add melon liquor to a Monster Mash to make a Great Pumpkin.
Mixing Vampire Bites and Van Helsings is a very bad idea!

Haunting Tolla River South: 2

2009-10-20T14:00:00.000-07:00

Continued from yesterday...

HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH
by Emily Ryan-Davis

You, however, are plenty old enough.

Jen played the words over in her head. What was that supposed to mean? And had she imagined the interested edge to his tone? Was she supposed to respond to him? Unsure what to say, she made a noncommital noise and stared hard at the wretched handwriting she'd been trying to read.

Mal stood there for a few minutes longer, long enough that Jen's ears started to burn, then he cleared his throat and said, "Are you going to any parties?"

"I'm chaperoning the Monster Mash Friday night," she said, relieved she didn't have to admit her lack of a social life.

"Halloween's not 'til Saturday. And the Mash is work, not play."

"It should be fun. I'll be dressing up." The defensive sound of her own voice made Jen cringe. She carefully set her pen beside the pile of papers and made herself meet Mal's eyes. Dark, guarded eyes. Good lord. When had her mental definition of him shifted from big-kid-baseball-coach to bad-boy-single-man? They were coworkers, for heaven's sake, and they were in a high school classroom, not a bar. Determined to carry on an adult conversation, she asked, "What about you? Parties?"

"I'll be at the Mash. I have some things in the works for Saturday."

"Things are good," she said.

"Yeah, they can be. They can be better depending on the company." He canted his head, looking her over from head to waist, which was where the surface of her desk cut her off. "Can I talk you into helping me out by improving the company?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "Are you inviting me to a party?"

"Yeah. I'm inviting you to a party."

Visit Halloween @ TRS again tomorrow for the next installment in HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH.

A spooky free read.

2009-10-20T06:08:00.000-07:00

This is one of those holidays you cant help but love. Audra and I are huge fans of halloween, and the creepy and scary, though Aud is an extreme fraidy-cat. We are working on a new series that takes a ride into the horror end of things, and Audra is spooked about it, but its all in good fun.

Anyways, Audra and I have a free read that we consider our "Halloween" read at All Romance E books. Blood on the Harvest Moon is our horror offering short story, and gives you a glimpse into the darker side of the American Satyr series, which is out now with Total E Bound. Its about their country cousins... So check it out if you are looking for a short and seemingly evil read this season.

Thats it for me today, but enjoy the TRS fun till the 31st! and happy reading!

Sexy, Spooky...LADY IN WHITE by Catherine Chernow

2009-10-19T17:47:00.001-07:00

LADY IN WHITE by Catherine Chernow

A spooky, haunting, erotic romance - just right for Halloween...

I love ghost stories. Always have. Ever since I was a child. So it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to the first story of my 'Bride's Inn' series of paranormal, erotic romance...LADY IN WHITE.

It's got elements of a classic ghost story and haunting - and a sexy hero to die for...Seth Masters.

Check him out at www.myspace.com/sethmastersli

Read an excerpt from LADY IN WHITE at www.CatherineChernow.com

LADY IN WHITE is available for sale at www.ResplendencePublishing.com

Make sure to check out my webpage at Resplendence Publishing: Catherine Chernow

I'm one of Resplendence Publishing's launch authors and all during the month of October you'll receive a discount on all Catherine Chernow titles at Resplendence.

Now here's a question for you: What kind of street does a ghost like best?

Answer: A dead end!

Happy haunting, everyone.

From...

Catherine Chernow

Love a good fright?

2009-10-19T15:47:00.000-07:00

I love to be scared. I crave that feeling of having my heartbeat race inside my chest and the tension rise in a rush of euphoria. It always puts a smile on my face. Hmm, kind of sounds like something else. Maybe that's why I like the feeling so much.

I was drawn to horror at a young age much to the surprise of my parents. They reluctantly allowed me to stay up late to watch horror movies. Vampires, werewolves, mummies, ghosts—none of these creatures ever caused me to have nightmares. The only movie that really freaked me out was the original black and white Night of the Living Dead. I still cannot watch that one alone and I highly recommend it for a good scare. My top ten horror movies are Halloween, Night of the Living Dead, The Descent, The Amityville Horror, The Ring, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Poltergeist, Friday the 13th, Pet Semetery (I'm torn between this and The Shining), and A Haunting in Connecticut (I just watched this one and it had me jumping. It was awesome). I have to add The Mist because that one scared me with all the fog and not knowing what was out there—classic horror. It was hard to choose because there are so many great scary movies from classics like Dracula, The Wolf Man, Frankenstein, etc., but these movies I mentioned really made me jump in my seat. There are a slew of Dracula movies from the 70s that I really loved, but they didn't really scare me the way some other movies have.

Horror novels also kept me up late at night with my eyes glued to the pages. My favorite ones are Dracula, Stephen King's Salem's Lot, The Omen, and a short story called The Monkey's Paw (Stephen King re-told this chilling tale in Pet Semetery). I have a bunch of anthologies filled with horror stories and my favorite is The Oxford Book of English Ghost Stories. The British really know how to spin a frightening tale or two.

I think I am drawn to horror the way some people are drawn to roller coasters. Give me a haunted house or a fog-shrouded cemetery and I will walk through without so much as a scream. On a trip to the Knott's Berry Farm Halloween Haunt, while my sister clung onto my husband's arm, screaming, I walked a head of them both with a smile on my face. I often disappoint a vampire or zombie when they realize they cannot scare me. Oh well.

Do you have a favorite horror movie or novel?

Kelley Heckart
'Timeless tales of romance, conflict & magic'
http://www.kelleyheckart.com/
http://kelleysrealm.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/CelticChick

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelley-Heckart/111838455604

Haunting Tolla River South: 1

2009-10-19T14:02:00.000-07:00

Welcome to this unlucky 13th day before Halloween - a tame Monday afternoon, just like any other for good-girl Jennifer Parker. Jen's good-girl life is about to change, however...thirteen days from now, she'll be a very, very different person. I hope you'll return daily to find out what happens to Jennifer and the residents of Tolla River South in

HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH
by Emily Ryan-Davis

Jen grimaced at the leering orange pumpkins pinned to the bulletin board in her classroom. Thirteen more days, fifteen if she allowed for the chocolate coma to run its course, and she'd have her students back. No sooner, if the quality of the papers she'd received that morning were any indication.

"You have that Halloween scowl on your face."

Mal Streyer's deep, amused voice tugged Jen's frown into a wry smile. Without looking up from her work, she shrugged and said, "What's that you didn't add? I'm taking myself too seriously?"

"I didn't say that at all." The football coach, new to TRS High this semester, propped his shoulder against the door frame.

Jen scratched a red line through yet another dangling modifier and dropped her pen atop the pile of midterm rough drafts she'd been reading. "The holidays are frustrating."

"The holidays or the hundred and twenty seventeen-year-olds?"

"The holidays." She glanced sidelong at him, about to clarify, but the sight of Mal's cowboy boots stopped her short. Well-worn denim encased his muscled legs. The fly of his jeans was a shade lighter than the material that made up the thighs. A leather belt wound around lean hips preceeded the tongue-tangling expanse of his flat stomach. That wasn't right. Mal lived in sneakers, sweats and hoodies. Grasping for something to ground her in the familiar, she checked his throat for the whistle he usually wore. Instead, a silver chain hugged close to his throat. Jen inhaled and looked back to her papers. "Ok. Mostly the seventeen-year-olds."

"Forget them. They aren't old enough to have as much fun as they wish they could." He paused before adding, "You, however, are plenty old enough."

Visit Halloween @ TRS again tomorrow for the next installment in HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH.

Immortally Theirs by Ann Cory - vampire menage

2009-10-19T09:05:00.001-07:00

Available now is my vampire menage Immortally Theirs from Resplendence Publishing

Blurb

When Shayla McDormand first moved into her parent’s old mansion, she had no idea two very handsome vampires, Bastian Trabor and Armand Coudray, already occupied it. Over time she gave into their affections and enjoyed all they had to offer. Bastian is all about powerful strokes with his cock and bringing her to a fierce orgasm every time. Armand likes sex to be artistic and savors her body with his tongue. Spoiled but satisfied, Shayla loves everything about them. Until they demand she choose between them or they will leave and never return.

Bastian and Armand will do anything to compete for Shayla’s love. They both want her as their vampire bride. To immortally be theirs. But another entity resides in the house that also wants Shayla.

Can Shayla make up her mind before it’s too late? Or will fate decide for her?

For an excerpt, please click Here

~Ann Cory

I Screamed a Blood-Curdling Scream

2009-10-19T07:41:00.000-07:00

The terror has officially begun in my little Maryland suburb. I woke up this morning to discover my favorite coffee shop, the local mom-and-pop with delicious donuts and muffins that save me on my Tuesday 12-hour-days, has closed shop.

Overnight.

What am I going to do without my latte?

Do you think the family was turned by vampires?

Kidnapped by dark fairies?

Eaten by werewolves?

Do you think I'll survive these 13 days of Halloween without my caffeine and chocolate fix?

Watch for the first installment in HAUNTING TOLLA RIVER SOUTH, coming this afternoon.

New F/F Halloween Erotic Short Available!

2009-10-19T07:10:00.000-07:00

I've planned for a while now to write at least one exclusively F/F short in the Dareville universe. This one had intended to be just a 2K quickie, but the story grew a bit and before I realized it I had written another Halloween short. So I figured why not make it available through the regular eBook channels?

Word on the street is there's a rising interest in Sapphic works, so if enjoy the genre I hope you'll give this one a shot.

Where Angels Dare to Tread
Erotica (F/F) - $1.29 eBook
Available from DLP Books for 99 cents!

eBook also available at the following merchants:
ARe
Scribd
Smashwords

October's Black Rose Festival comes to Dareville, along with a sexy party Carole Douglas can't wait to attend. While she hopes to catch more than a few interested looks with her skimpy angel costume, meeting the enchanting Bella Reeve has her ready to turn in her halo. Will the town's first Vamp Ball bring her love at first "bite"?

Read an Excerpt.