Since it’s close to Halloween, I’ve decided to chat about what scares me. My girls find it frustrating that very little scares me. They are forever trying to jump from darkened corners, hide things in my bed, or dream up other diabolical ways to make mom scream.
To be honest, there are only two things I’m afraid of–werewolves and butterflies. My fear of butterflies will always remain a mystery, but I can trace my fear of werewolves back to one Halloween when I was six-years-old.
I had decided, as kids do, to pick the most impossible costume for my mom to sew. I wanted to be Snow White—complete with the huge skirt, laced bodice, and puffy sleeves. To my mom’s credit, she did a brilliant job sewing it together. So brilliant, in fact, that she refused to let me wear the dress until Halloween night. She was afraid I would ruin it.
Halloween night finally arrived, and off I went in full costume, my mom and dad in tow. I was never afraid of the dark, so when we came to one house that happened to have all the lights off, it didn’t occur to me that it was a set-up.
With pillow case in hand, I gathered my Snow White skirts and ran up the walkway, completely focused on my task at hand. The last thing on my mind, were the bushes on either side of the door. Bushes large enough to hide a teenager, dressed up as a werewolf, and completely focused on Halloween festivities of his own.
Out he jumped, and off I ran, screaming at the top of my lungs. I guess I must have snagged my skirt on a bush, because I remember hearing it rip and my mom screaming something of her own.
But, I was sure it was the werewolf—making a grab with the intent of dragging me back to his lair. So sure, in fact, that I continued to run.
My mom was mortified.
The teenager was mortified.
I was oblivious and kept running until my dad finally caught up with me.
From that point, all I remember was being dragged back to the house where the werewolf lived. I don’t remember the teenager removing his mask, I don’t remember him apologizing profusely, I don’t remember the fact that he dumped his whole stash of candy into my pillow case (so my parents tell me). I pretty much just blanked out.
And so a fear is born. I can’t watch werewolf movies before bed, else I have nightmares. I write scary stuff about ghosts, demons, and things that go bump in the night, but I won’t touch the subject of werewolves with a ten-foot sword. My girls think it’s great fun to don one of those rubber werewolf masks in the Halloween stores and chase me around with it. We laugh, but inside, that little six-year-old girl is screaming.
And candy is the farthest thing from her mind.
Thank you for having me as a guest, Night Mistress!
Mistress: Oh my! That’s just terrible, Clarissa. Most of the werewolves I know are rather cuddly, once you give them the right puppy chow. At least it provided fodder for some intriguing stories, yes? Why don’t you tell us a little about your novel, BETWEEN?
by Clarissa Johal
How far would you go to redeem yourself?
As a young girl, Lucinda was able to see spirits, a gift that didn’t come without its problems. Now, a dedicated young veterinarian, she is committed to the idea that every life can be saved.
After a devastating accident, Lucinda tries to escape her past by moving to a small town. There, she meets a newcomer and feels an immediate connection with him. But there is another mysterious stranger to the small town, one that stirs within her a mixture of unease and desire.
As Lucinda is drawn into a bitter tug-a-war from the forces around her, she is likewise pulled into a dangerous twist of past and present events. Forced to make difficult choices, she finds that the two men are locked in not only a battle for her life…but a battle for their salvation.
Sounds wonderful, Clarissa! A spooky tale for a Halloween night for sure. Thank you for joining us.
Clarissa: And thank you for the tea. *sniffs tea suspiciously* I’m actually a coffee drinker. Forgive me if I set it aside for now…
Mistress: No, there’s nothing wrong with the tea, dear. I’ll see about getting you some coffee, though… 😉
Clarissa Johal has worked as a veterinary assistant, zoo-keeper aide and vegetarian chef. Writing has always been her passion. When she’s not listening to the ghosts in her head, she’s dancing or taking photographs of gargoyles. She shares her life with her husband, two daughters and every stray animal that darkens the doorstep. One day, she expects that a wayward troll will wander into her yard, but that hasn’t happened yet.
*Mistress glares at minion* Do you really think that’s the best way to deal with the problem?
Well? *Minion Juli ducks* We’ve got to try something. This mob is growing angrier by the minute.
They won’t survive.
Really? *Juli crosses arms* Look how far they’ve gotten. If anyone can help, they can. She’s on the guest list, after all.
*Mistress lays her hand to her forehead * Give me strength… All right, I’ll ask. Ladies and gentleman, please welcome our next guest, paranormal romance author Jean Murray. Jean’s the author of Soul Reborn. So tell me, dear Jean, do you know any ancient magic that might help quell this crowd? Never mind. Come sit by me, have some…oh, let’s break out the wine, shall we? Now, care to tell my visitors a little about yourself, dear?
Jean Murray: Similar to other authors, I’ve always had these stories bouncing around in my head. It helped pass the time driving, waiting in line etc… It wasn’t until 2009 that I actually thought to write them down. Before I knew it I had a four book vampire series. It wasn’t until my husband sparked the idea about publishing that I even considered submitting my manuscripts. At the time it was just a hobby. I’m so glad he did—it changed my life.
Jean Murray was born and raised in a small town on the east coast. In her pursuit of a nursing degree, she aspired to see the world and joined the Navy. One of the benefits of her membership in the Armed Forces, she has had the opportunity to travel and live in different parts of the world and the United States. Her travels abroad have given her the opportunity to experience different cultures. It inspired her to delve into Ancient Egyptian myths and legends for her Key to the Cursed series from Crescent Moon Press.
Mistress: Curses maybe that’s what we need? Hm….. What inspired your novel, Soul Reborn?
Jean: Would you believe Scooby Doo? No really. I was searching for something unique to write that was different from vampires but had the same allure. Zombies were hot at the time, but I just couldn’t bring myself to writing a zombie romance. (I know some writers can pull it off, but me—no). I wanted to write something that stretched the line between paranormal romance and urban fantasy. Action, romance and a little humor thrown in for good measure. Frustrated, I sat down with my kids one day and they were watching a Scooby Doo Movie. This one was based in Egypt. It sparked an idea. The ancient Egyptian culture had always been an absolute love of mine. The idea that souls lived beyond death. When most people think of the Underworld, they think of hell, torture, punishment, but the Ancient Egyptians believed the Underworld was another realm of existence. If they passed the test they could live eternity in paradise. The majority of Underworld gods of ancient Egypt were benevolent. What a great backdrop for a book!
Jean: I was told by several writers that publishers would only accept a historical Egyptian-based novel. Ignoring their warnings, I sat down and wrote Soul Reborn. I’m so glad I did. It became my debut novel and the second book, Soul Awakened is due out soon.
Mistress: So, let that be a lesson to you folks, don’t ignore your instincts. You never know where it might lead. 🙂 Congrats on the coming new book. Can you tell us more about Keys to the Cursed.
Jean: The series had been well-received, much to my enjoyment. I have to pinch myself sometimes. I just had a fan/blogger send me a pair of handmade sarcophagus earrings. It’s days like those that make it all worth it!
Mistress: You’ve likely seen these questions as our other guests have answered them, but I’d like to know a little about my guests. What’s your preference: All Hallow’s Eve or All Saint’s Day?
Jean: I think most of us are more familiar with the term All Hallow’s Eve or Halloween. I’m all about dead souls (love to write about them).
Mistress: Favorite scary movie?
Jean: Aliens. The one movie that will make me jump and cover my eyes was the first Alien movie. The thought of being used as an incubator for an alien baby grosses me out beyond all belief. Not to mention it bursts from your chest and kills you. Ah, yeah—scary!
Mistress: That is disturbing. Let’s talk of something more pleasant: Dr. Frankenstein or Dracula?
Jean: Dracula- definitely. I love the premise that he vows vengeance for the death of the woman he loves. It’s hard not to sympathize on some level or at least understand why he is the way he is. (Depending on which story you follow).
Mistress: I suppose that’s true. Still… eternity is a long time. I told him once, just get over her dear, you’ll find another sweetie. Speaking of sweets: Candy corn or chocolate?
Jean:For Halloween—definitely candy corn. Like Oreo cookies, I have to nibble the layers separately. Yes, quirky, I know, but I can’t help it.
Mistress: Well then, there’s some in the pretty crystal dish on the refreshments table. Feel free to gorge if you like. 😉 What are you going to dress up as for Halloween this year?
Jean: A housewife. LOL. Actually, I have a mask from New Orleans I’m going to wear with a black cape to cover my sweatpants, rollers and fuzzy slippers. Ha!
Mistress: The vampire housewife? Oh that sounds cute! If you could be in any classic horror novel, or story (such as Dracula, Frankenstein, Carmilla, Turn of the Screw, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, The Tell-Tale Heart? The Raven?), which would it be?
Jean: Although I love the lure of Dracula, I have to say The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe is one of my favorites. It’s been ages since I’ve read it, but it reveals the power of guilt and the ability of the mind to manifest hallucinations. In my opinion it is the best written short story ever. If you haven’t read it—you must!
Mistress: It is quite chilling! Speaking of stories, please give us a taste of your work.
THE HUMAN REALM, HIS BATTLEFIELD.
Asar, the Egyptian God of the Underworld, has been tortured and left soulless by a malevolent goddess, relegating him to consume the very thing he was commissioned to protect. Human souls. Now an empty shell of hatred, Asar vows to kill the goddess and anyone involved in her release, but fate crosses his path with a beautiful blonde huntress who has a soul too sweet to ignore.
DEADLY SECRETS BETTER LEFT UNEARTHED.
Lilly, fearless commander of the Nehebkau huntresses, is the only thing standing in the way of the goddess’ undead army unleashing hell on earth. But Lilly has a secret—one she is willing to sell her soul to keep. If the Underworld god discovers her role in the dig that released the goddess, she will lose everything, including his heart.
Excerpt of Chapter 1:
Movement flickered in the deep shadows.
Asar stilled. Midnight skin blending into the night, he slipped easily into the gloom of the New York City streets and waited.
The human heat signature he hunted lingered in the air like a fine French perfume. He was not surprised when a trio of pale- skinned, red-eyed revens zoned in on the same body heat. The undead craved the flesh of their once previous form.
It was not the human‘s flesh Asar desired.
Saddled by his own hunger that burned like fire in his chest, he raced toward the haunting scent, anxious to claim the prey before the revens. He was not about to give up such a delicious soul to
those ravenous cannibals.
Still too far away, he exploded with a shot of preternatural speed on the slippery, uneven pavement. Surefooted, he hurtled a foul dumpster and sprinted around the brick building. Hunger fueled his every step. He fully expected to hear a scream from the human victim before he reached the alley, but the air remained still.
He slid to a stop on the wet asphalt. The three revens he had sensed lay decapitated on the polluted street. Gaping chest wounds indicated the hearts had been destroyed.
Fragments of shimmering light illuminated the gray, decaying flesh, rising into the night air. Normally, he would have absorbed the shifting souls, but revens were tainted and doomed never to reach the afterlife. The undead were truly dead.
Where was the human?
The sound of shattering glass resonated from above, followed by a shower of diamond shards. Asar evaporated into the shadows against the cold brick of the building and narrowly avoided the carcass of a headless reven plummeting from the upper window. The body hit the pavement like a side of meat slammed onto a butcher‘s countertop. Dark, putrid shrapnel of blood and bone spattered across the roadway. The reven‘s head soon followed, bounced off the cement with a loud crack and rolled slowly down the sidewalk before coming to rest inches from his foot.
He did not give it a second look. Through the shattered second story window, he caught a glimpse of glowing green eyes and the flash of silver.
His body grew taut with anticipation. The humans he typically encountered at night were criminals and opportunists looting stores or transporting illegal goods — the unsavory dredges of humankind. No one else dared to be outdoors for fear of becoming a reven‘s next meal.
The criminals were easy enough prey, overconfident with their modern weapons, but this opponent utilized a more ancient form of deliverance. The reven kills were calculated and completed with the precision and stealth of a skilled assassin. This hunter was no doubt getting paid top dollar for this kind of suicide mission.
The revelation made his chest burn hotter with dark need. His prey would not go down easily. The harder the fight, the more living energy he could absorb from the human‘s soul.
He looked upward. The night sky was waning to lighter shades of blue. He had only an hour of darkness left before the horizon split open with the sun‘s rays. He would like nothing more than to draw out the fight for his own perverse pleasure, but he had to end it soon or face the wrath of his ancient curse.
A pain he would sooner avoid.
A loud crash of metal against stone around the corner interrupted his reverie. He launched forward out of the shadows, unconcerned with revealing his location, and did not waste any time turning onto the dimly lit street.
Only to find it empty.
Asar scanned quickly around the perimeter while turning slowly in a circle. The hunter did not have enough time to scale a building or sprint down the long block. His prey had to be a short distance from here. He walked forward, following the heat trail that vanished in the middle of the street.
Where did you go? Asar turned, looking for some exit the hunter could have used. The pavement shifted slightly under his foot. Looking down, he rotated his foot to the right. NY City Water & Sewer.
So, his prey had gone underground to draw him into a more cramped battle. Little did the hunter know, Asar would be the only victor in this game of cat and mouse.
He would leave with the man‘s soul.
Into the darkness of the small tunnel, he followed the exaggerated heat trail in the confined space. He heard the faint breathing and pounding of a human heart. Here kitty, kitty. The hunter was foolish enough to make a stand, but not for long. He followed the arresting scent, anxious to fill his hollow emptiness. Only a few more steps and then he‘d see his prize—
His gaze shifted over a female with long blonde hair whose curvy hips were loaded with an arsenal of weapons. In her hand, she clasped a long, intricately carved blade—a blade she pointed directly at him.
Asar swallowed against the sudden constriction in his throat. Not a hunter.
Energy rippled off her skin like streamers of bright sunlight. Her powerful essence of life called to him, the very energy that fed
his unquenchable hunger. All he had to do was touch her silky skin or lips to devour the luscious beauty. He had already taken a few steps toward her when he stopped.
Another sensation of hunger distracted his senses. One he had not felt in very long time, nor cared to feel again. His hardened arousal was inconvenient, considering the moment.
An inconvenience he was willing to explore a little before he dined on her soul. Heat radiated off her skin, a sharp contrast to his own cold, dead body. His skin began to burn, even at this distance. A welcome, but deadly flame. Despite this threat, he drew in like a moth to a flame. Warm, soft and most importantly, alive.
“I will not hurt you,” Asar whispered in a low, resonant voice. Amusement flickered in the female‘s glowing green eyes. I can‘t say that I would make the same promise, she said with a menacingly seductive smile, pressing the tip of her blade above his empty chest cavity.
It brought him to an abrupt halt, but only briefly. Despite the knife, he could not help but draw in closer. He waited to see if she would act, thrusting the blade deep into his chest. The fair female would be in for a shock, as it would not have the outcome she expected. He had no heart to pierce and no soul to destroy—a fact that relegated him to hunt in this despicable place.
““Why would a beautiful woman risk her life by being out after dark?” he asked, running the tips of his fingers against the sharp blade. Only a skilled warrior could wield such an instrument. The beheaded revens in the street were evidence enough of that.
Awaiting her answer, he leaned in on the tip of her blade, piercing his dark skin.
“Who says I‘m the one at risk here?”
She pressed the blade a little deeper into the thick muscle of his chest to call his bluff. He sneered. The huntress would need to do more than that to cause him pain.
“I do,” Asar said, enjoying her little taunt. She obviously had no
appreciation for who she was speaking to or else there would be fear in her eyes. Everyone feared death on some level, and he was the master of it.
Judge, jury and executioner.
As God of the Underworld, Asar was death, personified.
As if sensing his thoughts, she withdrew a second blade from her hip, escalating the level of her defense. “You don‘t belong here and I‘ll see you just as dead as your pale friends from earlier this evening.”
“Friends? Who said I had any friends?” Asar stepped forward again forcing himself into the personal space she so obviously wanted to keep for herself. He moved close enough to smell her sweet scent. Like a finely spun sugar on the tip of his tongue. He
licked his lips and his groin tightened to an unbearable ache.
His gesture and level of arousal did not go unnoticed. A sudden flash of heat rippled from her body and turned her face a bright pink, a contradiction to her hardened eyes. He still maintained a respectable distance from her, yet he could feel the current of energy emanating off her skin, stronger than an average human.
Her beautiful green eyes blinked quickly. Her confusion registered in the deep emerald depths. “What are you?” The cadence of her breath increased as he hovered over her lips, creating a small white vapor as it crossed his face. The urge to kiss her was strangely unbearable, as was the strain of his hard cock against the confines of his pants.
“You would not believe me if I told you.”
Her eyes shifted to his approaching lips. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter. You are not human, which makes you only one other thing.”
Despite her threatening words, the pain from the tips of her blades penetrating his skin disappeared. The knives were no longer positioned to kill. He tilted his head and watched the fluctuation in the huntress’ green eyes. Still no fear, but intelligence and an equal amount of curiosity analyzed him.
We interrupt this party to bring you our weekly story time. 🙂 This week, another excerpt from The Artist’s Inheritance: a little bit more about our ghostly soldier from Fort Pickens:
Caitlin shook her head and took the stairs, leaving
him to his work. Trotting down the porch steps she
glanced across the gulf to the fort. Standing majestic and
quiet in the warm afternoon, she watched tourists move
back and forth around it.
She could swear she could almost hear them speaking
in low tones about the coming battle. Men in blue ran to accomplish their duties, carrying rifles, and lining up the cannons. A Confederate boat sped in her direction. The colonel wheeled his horse around and called to his men. One ran to his side and handed something up to him. The light flared off a crude pair of binoculars.
Caitlin startled at the glare. A motorboat, presumably full of tourists, moved away from the docks. Her home stood behind her, the air conditioner humming along, combating the afternoon’s stifling heat.
Her hands shook. She leaned against the car and took a deep breath, then another. “What in the world?”
She sped inside and pulled a bottle of water from her refrigerator. Standing there, door open to let the cool air seep over her she shook the reverie away, for once, embracing the chill. Daydream. That’s all it was.
She set the empty bottle in the recycle bin and took to the stairs. She poked her head in the attic door. Trevor stood considering his project, one hand on his hip.
Uh huh. Daydream. Sure….I believe that…(not!). If you’d like to find out more of what’s going on with Caitlin and these ghostly soldiers, The e-book of The Artist’s Inheritance is for a limited time, $.99 at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords. Also in paperback via Createspace.
Enjoy more Sweet Saturday Samples at their homepage, and have a happy Halloween and enjoy the rest of our Halloween party. 🙂
*Mistress helps author Rosalie Lario through underground tunnel*
Mistress: I’m sorry to bring you in like this, dear Rosalie. We’ve had a heck of a night. You have no idea what’s been going on! Come sit by me, here. Don’t mind the dust. We’re cleaning up a little. Fernando, bring our dear friend here a drink and can you clean the dust off her jacket? Thank you, my dear. He’s a good little minion. Well, you do have to watch him during the full moon’s but most of the time, he’s manageable. Settled, dear? Good. First off, tell my guests a little about yourself and your work.
Rosalie: I am the paranormal romance author of the award-winning Demons of Infernum series and the Fallen Warriors series. I write about tough but good-hearted demons and sexy-as-sin angels. 🙂
Mistress: What inspired your novel Blood of the Demon?
Rosalie: I had been contemplating writing a book centered around demons for a while, when I had a dream about the lead character in BLOOD OF THE DEMON. I knew then that Keegan would be only half demon, and that demons would be a race of beings from another dimension rather than your typical beings from Hell. Everything else fell into place soon after that!
Mistress: I did notice that….So this is probably a given but: All Hallow’s Eve or All Saint’s Day?
Rosalie: I absolutely love the general spookiness of All Hallow’s Eve!
Mistress: Favorite scary movie?
Rosalie: I don’t do gory scary. Freaks me out way too much, especially if it could actually happen in real life (i.e. slasher movies). So my favorite scary movie, which is more of a supernatural thriller, is The Devil’s Advocate.
Mistress: Ooh that was a creepy movie! Which leading man might you be fonder of Frankenstein, or Dracula?
Rosalie: There’s something innately sensual about Dracula (well…not the Bram Stoker version, lol), so I’ll have to go with the mesmerizing bloodsucker over the pieced together monster creation.
Mistress: Candy corn or chocolate?
Rosalie: OMG, is there even a contest? Chocolate!
Mistress: More candy corn for me, then. 🙂 What are you going to dress up as for Halloween this year?
Rosalie: A black cat. Original, right?
Mistress: Actually, so far, among our guests, it is an original choice. You all are very creative and have really thought these answers out! If you could be in any classic horror novel, or story (such as Dracula, Frankenstein, Carmilla, Turn of the Screw, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, The Tell-Tale Heart? The Raven?), which would it be?
Rosalie: Hmm, it’s tough, but I’ll have to go with Dracula.
Mistress: Please give us a taste of your work.
BLOOD OF THE DEMON, Book 1 of the Demons of Infernum series Keegan lives to exact revenge on the evil demon who sired and abused him. When his father devises a plan to bring on the apocalypse, he and his three half-brothers, interdimensional bounty hunters for the Elden Council, are charged with capturing and delivering their father for punishment. Art gallery owner Brynn Meyers has no idea that her ability to read memories embedded in objects and drain people of their life force means she has demon ancestry. Unfortunately for Brynn, she’s also the key to raising an ancient zombie army, which puts her on every demon’s Most Wanted List. And no one wants her more than Keegan’s father. Keegan must protect Brynn from his father by any means necessary, but he’ll have to learn to harness the other half of his genetics—the far deadlier, uncontrollable half—when he starts to fall for the one woman standing between him and the vengeance he so desperately seeks. The one woman he’ll never be able to resist.
Thanks for visiting us tonight, Rosalie. I hope you have a pleasant walk home. Yes, of course i’ll send Fernando with you; I’ll even make sure he takes the shotgun just in case…you never know where Dr. Franken-Helsing might pop up–though I am fairly sure he’s safely in his tomb at the moment…and for good, I hope!
*Night Mistress listens at door* Good it seems like that mob has settled down.Maybe my ghost soldiers helped.
Hmm? Oh, yes, around here, we like ghosts. We often wonder what the fuss is about ghosts. *Mistress eyes ceiling* See that shade up there near the rafter? We get them almost every day. Why you humans hem and hah about them is beyond me. I mean, they’re just looking for a home. Mind you, I can’t let them all into my home, so my dear guests, feel free to adopt one or two to take home with you. Please? I swear they’re all nice fellas.
“Better than some vampire maidens.”
*Night Mistress peers across room* What? What was that Juli my dear?
*Juli the minion coughs* “Nothin’, my lady. What were you saying?”
*Mistress glares at Juli* “Yes. Right.” *aside: Do you believe her? I’m not sure I do. Anyway, as I was saying, not all ghosts are to be feared. Tonight we’ve kidnapped–I mean, invited, an author who agrees. Suzanne, dear, you wanted to speak a bit about this? Don’t be shy, you may have the podium whenever you’re ready.
Thanks so much, Mistress, and Juli, for allowing me to guest at your castle! You’ve heard the saying:
Lord, deliver us from goulies and ghosties
and long-leggedy beasties
and things that go bump in the night…
Deliver us? I think not! The paranormal has caused a delicious shiver down the spine probably since the beginning of mankind. All Hallows Eve, however, is the one time we let our interest in the spirit world run rampant. Halloween was my favorite holiday growing up, and I still get a kick out of it. Demons, imps, ghosts, and apparitions make their appearance in my own literary work from time to time too, and I don’t even have to wait for Halloween to let the genie out of the bottle.
My novelette, Whimsical Tendencies, is a ghost story, of sorts. In it, a horrendous earthquake razes the castle that houses the royal family. Almost everything and everyone on the castle grounds are destroyed…or are they? Almost ten years after the quake, a young woman in a neighboring town is haunted by bad dreams of the event. Are they dreams or memories? If so, can her memories resurrect the past?
The solution is found underneath the castle ruins, in the catacombs…
*Mistress rubs hands* Oh, I do hope they’re simply horrible nightmares! Those are always the best! Can you give us a little taste of your story, Suzanne?
The tunnel up ahead was caved in and impassable. Cypher’s shoulders slumped.
“I-I don’t know any other way around.”
“We passed a lot of other passageways,” Joss said.
“I don’t know where they lead. I always stayed in the main tunnel so I wouldn’t get lost. Joss,
perhaps we should go back.”
“I hear something.”
“What do you hear?”
“The air isn’t that good, Joss. I imagine your ears are ringing.”
“No, it’s like a bell.”
Cypher cocked her head to listen. Moments later her eyes grew wide. “I hear it too! Do you
think there could be somebody else down here?”
“I don’t know, but it’s getting closer.”
Joss put his arm around Cypher and held her tight. Someone or something was approaching, and they were trapped in a dead end.
Although she has no memories before the quake that destroyed the kingdom of Augury, Cypher McCall holds a steadfast hatred of the repressive Cauldian regime now ruling the country. Because her magical gifts are deemed subversive, she does her best to avoid detection. Unfortunately for Cypher, however, she’s too beautiful to ignore. After a Cauldian contingent arrives in her hometown, a chance encounter leaves her repulsed by the arrogant Prince Ewan and attracted to his distant cousin, Lord Joss.
When she learns Prince Ewan plans to tear down the ruins of nearby Castle Augur, Cypher vows to stop him. Although handsome Lord Joss tries to protect her from his vindictive cousin, Cypher can’t bring herself to trust the enemy. At the same time, nightmares and dreams nudge her toward reclaiming childhood memories. She stumbles across a silver key she hopes will unlock her past, but first she must confront a long repressed horror at the Castle Augur ruins.
Can Cypher evade Prince Ewan long enough to recover her memories? Is Lord Joss all that he seems or is his charm a ruse to ensnare the unwary? Finally, will the knowledge of her true identity tear Cypher apart or empower her to restore everything she ever loved?
Whimsical Tendencies is available at Amazon (Kindle), BN.com and wherever fine e-books are sold–you can find them all by clicking this link.
So, does something wicked or supernatural this way come? I sure hope so. ‘Cause it’s Halloween just around the corner and everyone can use a good ghost story.
~ Suzanne G. Rogers
*Mistress eyes minions* What is this stuff about Halloween being a day for ghosts? Every day’s a day for ghosts! Why do you people think otherwise?
*We’ll talk about it later, my Lady*
I see, well, since we have a little more time, I’ve persuaded Suzanne to offer some of her lovely author swag, including a magnet and postcard of Cypher! Pick the way you’d like to enter. Either like one of her books on Amazon HERE, like her author page on Facebook HERE, follow her blog, or follow her on Twitter HERE.
Let us know which way you entered by leaving a comment on the Night Mistress’ site, here, and we’ll pick a winner on Sunday, November 4th. So, let’s hear your thoughts on this topic, and you just might win some goodies. 🙂