Freaky Friday: A Troll, a Green Man and a Ghost Tree

For today’s freaky Friday, I found this topic and couldn’t resist.

Greenman, circa 1543
Greenman, circa 1543

The Green Man’s huge in Celtic Mythology of course. Its fairy-like image is found on churches and buildings throughout England. Related of course to the natural vegetal cycles of the world (Spring is coming after all). Jethro Tull even honored him in their song Jack In the Green. (*pause for moment of fangirl worship*)

So when I found this guy’s article *points to link*, in honor of the *fingers crossed* coming spring (and Imbolc!) I  couldn’t resist sharing it with y’all.

via OCCULT VIEW » » Photos: A Troll, a Green Man and a Ghost Tree.

Can you see anything freaky and fairy-like? Can you see the Green Man in these photos??

Pagan blog prompts-A for Altar

You might be surprised to know…I don’t use one. It seems I’ve always lived in a small space that doesn’t really allow for them. Years ago, when I was starting out and doing strict circles and ritual, I used to use my coffee table and just set everything up there, and take it down when I was finished.

For the last …seventeen years or so, with my writing taking major precedence in my life, I don’t have time for that–nor space, though the layout of our house is pretty much the same as the apartment where I started this collection. I do however have a small lamp table that “caught all” so to speak my major statuettes (would you believe, except for the Oberon Zell Artemis, I found both Minervas and the bathing Diana at the thrift store?). There are  some pictures of my dad, who passed away. There’s a friend there too who’s now gone, but if I know her, she wouldn’t have wanted her picture in the picture, so I covered it.  Some sand from a Buddhist sand painting ritual I happened upon...sheesh! eight years ago at Borders Books (of all places) and several long-unlit candles sit crammed in there beside them. One of them came from the Autumnal Equinox Drum circle at Witch’s Brew last year. The other is from a Hospice event after my father died so it needed to go  there too.

The “lamp table altar” looks a bit like this.

picture by Juli.

My little drum doesn’t even fit there so it’s off in the other room.

Oh, and yes. 🙂 My little fox. The fox may or may not be my Totem. I just picked him/her up because I think they’re adorable and I was writing a story that featured them at the time I stumbled across him/her at Michael’s. I used to have this really cool branch with these natural, yet very Celtic looking markings from my dad’s yard. But you know? I can’t remember where it is. I think it got tossed out in one of our termite swarms a few years back. My incense burner is there too–again long unused thanks to allergies. That orange bud vase? Oh, it’s my one god representation (hey, it’s orange, for the sun god, it’s phallic, it works). The postcard works too. I believe that’s  Mars in the picture–ah yes. Mars, Diana and Venus by Andrea Mantegna (are you catching a theme here?). And paper, of course, for the writer. 🙂

Part of the problem with the god representations, like so much else I fall in love with, is that I’ve never found a representation of Lugh, Brighid, or many of the  others in my “inner ring” of gods, that I’ve been in love with (oh, there is this Apollo, but I hear tell that’s in Mom’s will for me. So I don’t particularly want that image any time soon!). Most of the representations just don’t fit right to me, especially none of Bran….  Don’t get me started. The closest I’ve come to him is a raven I have around here somewhere.But as I said, the table seems a bit crammed as it is, don’t you think?

I’d love to have a place where I could do something permanent, some eternal flame thing, like my Roman ancestors, but altar-keeping has just never been practical for me.   So while I identify pagan and write  pagan-flavored stuff from time to time, sacred space is sort of…not ritualized and just… wherever is most comfortable for me. I suppose, we could call this a votive altar, if nothing else. Right?

Anyway, that’s my–ahem–story and pictures and I’m sticking to it! 😉

*Actually, the Oberon Zell moon goddess came from an old pagan shop around here.


Winter and Promo

Wow! I just stepped outside and it’s warmish today. Winter in Florida, eh? Don’t worry. We shall be paying for it come January! *laughs*

If you’re out and about the web today and tomorrow, I’ve got a few interviews you might find interesting:  I’m featured over at the author Babette James’ today,with an interview: and tomorrow, I’ll be interviewed at Eternal Haunted Summer, so I hear tell. 😉 (I’m excited about that one!)

I hope someone here will find them interesting!
Oh and that book link/cover to the left there? No, that’s  not mine. That’s by a new friend of mine, Mona Risk. *waves to Mona* It’s a holiday tale set in Florida and up now at Amazon, if you’d like to give it a peek. Enjoy and have a great day!

Chat with author Jolene Dawe

*Doorbell rings*
*Night Mistress checks monitors* Holy smokes.
*minion peers over Mistress’ shoulder* What’s the matter, m’lady?
The Lord Mayor’s son is outside–right behind our guest! Oh, this is a disaster! I wanted everything perfect for her. *Mistress sighs* Better bring her in through the underground gate.
*Minion scampers off and Mistress eyes monitors. Minion appears on screen and says something to a young woman outside* I wish I could hear what she said.
*Minion and young woman escape the Lord Mayor*
That’s better. *footsteps outside doorway. Minion and guest step through door*

Welcome Jolene! *Mistress holds out arms and hugs Jolene* I’m sorry for the trouble outside dear. The last thing I wanted was for– *jerks finger to screen* –that man to follow you in!
First off, tell us a little about yourself and your work.

Jolene Dawe: You know, one thing I really enjoy about the advent of the Internet and, these days, with blogs, is the ability we have to get to know bits about folks we might otherwise not get to see. I really enjoy reading about other authors; I love blogs as exposure opportunities, and I think they’re an awesome tool in this distribution revolution. That said, this is generally the hardest bit of marketing for my work — talking about myself. It’s an interesting little conundrum, isn’t it?

Mistress: Come now, don’t be so shy. Can’t you tell us a little something about yourself? *Mistress smiles* There’s candy in it for you.

Jolene Dawe: I am a resident of the gloriously wet Pacific Northwest, specifically Eugene Oregon. I moved here with my partner and our pride of cats and one dog in 2008, and have been in love with the place since before day one. I’m one of the transplants who delights in our nine to ten months of rain, laughing in astonished delight when natives bemoan how grey the weather is come January . . . with vibrant green from grass and moss and lichen rioting all around, and hearty winter flowers poking up in random places. Grey? Here? Well, maybe the sky. Okay, definitely the sky . . . What is this mythical globe of fire in the sky which people speak of?

*Mistress shakes head* I’m not sure either, my dear. All I see is a pretty pearlescent white globe nightly. 🙂 My minion tells me she loves your writing. Why don’t you tell my guest something of your stories?

Jolene Dawe: To date, I have two collections of short stories available. Treasures From the Deep is available via, a short collection of stories inspired by the myths of Poseidon. The Fairy Queen of Spencer's ButteThe Fairy Queen of Spencer’s Butte and Other Tales is available in print via  and for Kindle through Amazon — it’s a collection of stories inspired by this wonderful part of the country, where folklore and mythic tales mix and mingle, where magic and the mundane rub elbows and are both left better for it. I also have a short story in The Shining Cities: An Anthology of Pagan Science Fiction, an anthology published by Bibliotecha Alexandrina, as well as few stories published over at Eternal Haunted Summer.

From that bibliography, one might come to the conclusion that I’m pagan, and they’d be right. 🙂

Mistress: Well, all are welcome in our castle…and you know, I’ve known a pagan or two in my time. Don’t ask how long a time…. 😉 Now for the questions. What inspired The Fairy Queen of Spencer’s Butte?

Jolene: Most, immediately, the city of Eugene and its environs. More broadly, the Willamette Valley itself, the history of the Pacific Northwest, the close proximity to its past, the pioneering spirit that lingers in this make-do, make-beautiful, create and make better city. The willingness to dispose of the mold when the mold no longer fits, to make your own way while being true to yourself, to leave behind that which does not work, but to cherish that which does even after its no longer fashionable.

That, and the stories came whether I willed them or no. They were too many, too strong, too intriguing to try to ignore.

*Mistress nods* I hear that same sentiment from many writers. Now then, shar with us some of your favorites? All Hallow’s Eve or All Saint’s Day?

Jolene: Halloween! In our household we differentiate between Halloween and Samhain, though both end up being days to honor our beloved dead; Halloween is for our beloved furry dead (Howl-ween?) and Samhain for the human deceased. So, for us, Halloween is a more fun, goofy, somewhat joys (in a bittersweet way) than Samhain proper is.

*Mistress nods* Ah, Samhain, yes. I’ve been to some fantastic Samhain romps…back in my day… Dr. Frankenstein, or Dracula?

Jolene: Dracula, easily. Come on. Vampires, and vampires before they were all sexy, even!

Mistress: Yes, well, *preens* Some of us have always been sexy. 😉 How do you think I got Drac and the good Doctor fighting over me? Candy corn or chocolate?

Jolene: What is this ‘or’ of which you speak?

*laughs* All right. I’ll share with you. Are you going to dress up for Halloween this year?

Jolene: Sadly, I’m not. I think Halloween has become broken — we don’t get trick-or-treaters, they all go to the malls around here. While I firmly believe that Halloween should be a bit about confronting our mortality and poking around on the darker side of existence, being safe and responsible and keeping kids away from predators is important, and I understand the need for safety these days, but I mourn Halloween, I really do. It’s not at all what it used to be.

*Mistress nods* Yes, that’s very true. We don’t get many trick or treaters around our castle either. Just *frowns* angry mobs. What did I ever do to them?

Never mind. Next question: 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?

Jolene: The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Mistress: Oh good choice! What is it about that story that intrigues you?

Jolene: I grew up reading horror novels, and they generally don’t scare me at all, but the motif of The Headless Horseman has something to it that spooks me to my core; I love that tale!

Mistress: Where can my guests learn more about you, dear?

Right here:

Thanks for being with us tonight, Jolene. Now, don’t you worry about that Lord Mayor. Come with me and we’ll see if we can’t talk some sense into him….

Sweet Saturday/Sunday Sample

Another Saturday another Sample. Here we go…

Juli D. Revezzo, paranormal, supernatural, horror, Reign of Tarot series, ParisFrom House of Cards

A scream pierced the night. Sinjon turned to spot an eagle as it landed in the dead

branches of the nearby tree. Below its perch, the body of a woman hung from a rope around her left ankle, heavy and lifeless, her throat cut, blood dripping down to stain her white hair, the ground beneath her.

Surely, he was seeing things: the poor soul hadn’t been there a moment ago.

Ignoring the driver’s warning, he turned back to demand he lend a hand as Sinjon intended to cut her down. The more he looked, the less he was sure she was human.

There was something odd about her: the nails weren’t right seeming almost like razors, her skin more like wrinkled leather, her throat a little too long. Her eyes were altogether strange, gouged, yet whole; staring and lifeless, yet somehow they seemed to watch him.

What had happened to the right side of her torso, he couldn’t tell, but it was torn to shreds, strips of bloodied flesh hanging, ribs showing through the injury. Yet, when he tilted his head for a different view, the skin and sinew seemed almost woven together.

Something protruded from her back, but whether two humps, knives, or—it couldn’t be—stubby wings, he couldn’t decide. Or didn’t want to know the nature of what he saw.

As he turned back to his driver, a wall of ethereal flame erupted between them.

Sinjon fell back, staring in astonishment. The ice-blue flames crackled and spat, the wind gusting from the blaze was cold as a winter’s breeze. Beyond, noises of battle erupted.

Sinjon reached for his pistol. A screaming woman flew from the conflagration and locked her hands around his throat. Shock paralyzed him as she dragged him to the flames….

Poor Sinjon. He’s in for it now! If you’d like to see what happens next, House of Cards is available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

For more Sweet Saturday Samples, see the main site here.

Sweet Saturday Sample–House of Cards

Welcome to another  Sweet Saturday Samples. Some of you are new to this so, this is just a little blog hop where authors share bits of their work.  For instance, this little scene. This is from my new paranormal horror story, House of Cards. I hope you find it intriguing. 🙂

Embraced by the carriage’s comfort, Sinjon remained unaffected by the horses’ wild flight through the darkened French back roads. The storm clouds above hid the moon from sight. But Sinjon wasn’t focusing on anything other than the tarot cards he shuffled in his hand. The exercise did nothing to drive away the memory of his escape.

A flipped card, a second: Death stared up at him. His blue eyes peered at it through the darkness, disgusted with its appearance. He’d had enough of Death; the year was awash in blood: the Terror had decimated his circle of friends and family. The king and queen deposed, imprisoned, beheaded; their friends and supporters incarcerated, many families devastated. His parents were most likely dead. Why had his family hurried him off to safety? For Porter, his mother’s firstborn, Sinjon could well understand.

Glancing out the window as they passed a lonely, barren tree he wondered, But why me? It made no sense, given their history. Disdaining his mother for his conception, as the son of another man, most of the time Father ignored him or treated him as second best. His father’s family wouldn’t lend him a helping hand. His paternal grandmother’s home in Dover now might be the only refuge.

If we can make it.

He hoped the cover of night, the serpentine route they traveled toward the border of Calais, from where he hoped to sail safely to England, would serve them well. He couldn’t count on his bastard blood sparing him the bloody fate of the rest of Paris’ elite…

Will Sinjon make it to safety? You’ll have to read to find out!

House of Cards

You can’t escape Fate….

A young nobleman escapes the Reign of Terror in 18th century France to find himself dragged into an even worse fate–a hellish underworld wherein he is cajoled and put on trial by a demon tribunal for crimes he never committed. Can he answer thwart his fate, one worse than the guillotine?

House of Cards

If you’d like to find out what happens, House of Cards is available for $.99 at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords. You can also *points* add it to your Good Reads lists from here, if you like. 🙂 Thanks for reading. For more Sweet Saturday Samples, see the Sweet Saturday Samples site at