So, I bet you wonder what I’ve been doing. I did not fall off the face of the Earth. I’ve been busy writing. If you’ve been around for a while, you know this, you’ve seen my books in the Antique Magic series. Haven’t you? So with that in mind, I have a new release to show you. Ready?
Caitlin and Trevor inherit a set of enchanted knitting needles, needles that tangle them in another supernatural yarn. Yet the acquisition has freed their most hated enemy and he wants the needles as much as they do. But why are they so important to him? The clues may serve to solve their family’s long-standing mystery. Or lead them right into his clutches.
Can the couple cast off this twisted enigma or will their inheritance unravel their lives?
This particular installment sees them receiving … well, two things, actually, a map, which (if you read the previous book in the series, The Dragon’s Seamstress, you already know a little about) and–when Trevor’s sister-in-law visits–a set of knitting needles that…come with a very interesting story and a familial connection of which they never dreamed. What is it? Let’s go find out. 🙂
As the series is sequential, I really recommend you read them in order, if you haven’t already. Enjoy and thank you for reading Caitlin’s stories! If you read them, don’t forget to leave reviews, particularly at Amazon.
And, yes, my friends, your eyes do not deceive you, the new Antique Magic novel, MOURNING DOVE LOCKET, is here! 🙂 So what are Caitlin and company up to this time? Here’s a little taste of the book in 8 lines. A little set up, a teenaged girl has come up to Caitlin in a thrift store and offered her a gold locket, now she’s checking with the mother to make certain she has permission to offer it…or that’s the plan, anyway, until the teen opens her mouth:
Fantasy author Marsha A. Moore stops by today on the release of her latest paranormal romance, in her series, Coon Hollow Coven Tales, to tell us a little bit about her new release, WITCH’S CURSED CABIN. You know how much we love witches, around here, so I asked her to tell us a little about their her heroine’s newest adventure! Take it away, Marsha.
Would you dare to visit Coon Hollow Coven’s haunted carriage house?
Marsha A. Moore
Coon Hollow is the setting for Witch’s Cursed Cabin, the second of my series, Coon Hollow Coven Tales, and there are a lot of strange happenings going on down in the Hollow.
The Hollow is a fictitious small valley in southern Indiana, south of Bloomington. Somewhere in Brown County near Nashville and Bean Blossom, if you’re from around those parts. It’s Hoosier hill-country at its finest.
The coven was founded on strict rules of adherence to lifestyle and customs that existed at the time of the coven’s conception, in the mid-1930s. The rationale: to keep the transmission of witchcraft from one generation to the next as pure as possible. Members dress in styles of that period and drive long sleek Packards, Studebakers, and Nashes.
Coon Hollow’s coven members stay to themselves but sometimes need to do business in the nearby small town of Bentbone. When witches and townies mingle, all sorts of trouble and fun can happen.
Several times during the year, the coven puts on magical events open to the public as charity fundraisers for their schools and eldercare. Witch’s Cursed Cabin opens with the coven preparing for their annual Halloween haunted house. Real spiders are enchanted to drop onto guests’ faces. Bespelled live rats run the length of the halls, not stopping for human feet, legs, or other body parts. Ick! Floorboards randomly are set to give way and take selected guests to unknown destinations. Common bedroom objects, such as brushes, nightgowns, and toys, are empowered to chase guests. The scares are so real, people come from all over the state to see these attractions!
You’re invited to enjoy the thrills and magic at the coven’s haunted house, and while you’re in the Hollow, stay for the chilling Samhain celebration in Witch’s Cursed Cabin!
Thank you, Juli, for featuring my new release today on your blog!
Thank you, Marsha. Spiders dropping onto people’s faces? EEKK! Thanks for the warning. I think maybe I’ll try to find another path through the haunted house, this year. 😉 Want to check out Witch’s Cursed Cabin? Here’s the synopsis:
Eager to be on her own away from home, twenty-year-old Aggie Anders accepts a relative’s invitation to live in Coon Hollow Coven. Although she’s a witch from a different coven, what locals say about the Hollow confuses her. How can witchcraft there live and breathe through souls of the dead?
Aggie’s new residence in this strange southern Indiana world is a deserted homestead cabin. The property’s carriage house serves as the coven’s haunted Halloween fundraiser. It’s a great opportunity for her to make new friends, especially with the coven’s sexy new High Priest Logan.
But living in the homestead also brings Aggie enemies. Outsiders aren’t welcome. A cantankerous, old neighbor tries to frighten her off by warning her that the homestead is cursed. Local witches who practice black magic attempt to use their evil to drive Aggie away and rid their coven of her unusual powers as a sun witch. Determined to stay and fit in, Aggie discovers not only that the cabin is cursed, but she alone is destined to break the curse before moonrise on Samhain. If she fails, neither the living nor the dead will be safe.
Welcome to the Magick and Mayhem Fantasy blog hop. So the question was, what’s your favorite fantasy creature.
Well, you know, I’m torn. I like elves and faeries, but I adore wizards and gods–and imps, and witches of course. So… I guess I have to say all of them!
They’re running a giveaway involved here so check out the link below. To this I’ll be giving away one of my bookmarks (US Only). The overall prize package includes a copy of Caitlin’s Book of Shadows (EBook only), featuring, you guessed it that damnable Imp Hofter. 😉
Imps are small, bat-ish like, ugly creatures of wild, uncontrolled temperament. Common in Germanic, Russian, Turkish, and Korean literature, they are pranksters by nature, they simply live to cause trouble for man. And they tend to feed off the a man’s essence and leave the poor victim a drooling shell of his former self. (Or maybe that’s just my imp). And yet, according to good ole google, some people thought witches cavorted with imps! Ewww….
My character Hofter is one such. Though he looks like a man, he’s all about Mayhem. 🙂
Want to know more about Caitlin and company? Okay:
Something terrifying stalks Caitlin and her beloved Trevor. Something the bits and pieces she left claimed she had to make sense of–or so legend says. When the curator of their collection finds Caitlin’s long forgotten diary, she wonders will it tell the whole tale? Will it tell why Caitlin seemed so determined to tell the difference between reality and nightmare even as she continued the fight to defend her family from evil? Will it explain why she thought her world twisted? If she really became a witch?
Perhaps the answer lies between the lines of her story, one of lessons, struggles, and the hopes she carried like a warrior’s shield.
**This is a side (or supplemental, if you will) story in the Antique Magic series, a companion to The Artist’s Inheritance (Antique Magic, Book One).
Caitlin worked the afternoon away in Kameko’s Print Shop, packaging a new order when the door opened. Hofter stepped into the shop. Caitlin froze. Hadn’t Arianrhod insisted she’d “taken care of him”? How, exactly, when there he was, flitting here and there amongst the customers, smiling, brandishing his claw-tipped fingers.
Caitlin narrowed her eyes watching him, unsure of what her eyes told her. He can’t be here.
She tried to will the unwelcome vision away but Hofter refused her silent order to leave. He approached one gentleman waiting in line. Hofter’s claws flashed. The man yelped and cursed.
Had he cut the gentleman? At least that’s what she thought she saw. She dropped the bundle of fliers she’d been carrying and screamed.
In the next second, Hofter disappeared but she couldn’t stop screaming.
Calvin sprinted out the office door. “What’s going on here?”
Hofter was gone and yet, she kept on screaming.
Calvin took her by the arms and shook her. “What is it, Caitlin?”
She pointed to the crowd. Hofter had disappeared and she knew though Calvin’s gaze followed the direction of her finger, he saw nothing.
“Maybe you need to take a break. Go on. Mark can handle things for now.” He turned and shouted over his shoulder, “Mark?”
The student assistant slinked into Caitlin’s spot at the counter as she tried to keep from running out the door.
Hands shaking, she pulled her purse from her locker seeking her cell phone to call Beryl.
“Sweetie,” Beryl said, “are you sure it was Hofter?”
“I saw him, plain as day.” Her mouth was so dry and heart pounding so hard she could barely get the words out. “There’s no doubt in my mind he’s not as imprisoned as she promised.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Yet, it seemed to take forever for Beryl to arrive. When she did, Caitlin stood back trying to do her work as she watched Beryl scrutinize the afternoon crowd of customers. She couldn’t stop shaking.
Beryl finally sauntered up to the counter and shook her head. “I don’t see him, Cait. I don’t even feel any remnants of him.” She reached out and ran her hand down Caitlin’s arm. The touch calmed her—a little. Not as much as she would’ve liked it to. “Sweetie, why don’t you go home and get some rest?”
Caitlin nodded to a watching, curious Calvin. “I would if I could, but I’m stuck here until closing.”
Beryl waved him over and proceeded to flirt with him. Caitlin didn’t know how she did it, but she managed to talk him into letting her leave. Driving her to Dr. Austin’s office herself, Beryl waited until Caitlin reformed from the puddle of sobbing goo she turned into. How she didn’t tell Dr. Austin the true nature of the monster she dealt with, how she managed to stay out of the nuthouse, was beyond Caitlin’s power to discern.
Even when she closed the door and the drapes that night, she could’ve sworn she saw Hofter hanging in the air outside her windows, grinning his evil, impish smile.
Now about that giveaway. One winner will receive a Smashwords coupon for a download of your choice of ebook format of Caitlin’s Book of Shadows. What to do? Leave me a comment below (with your email address so I can contact you if you win) and tell me what’s your favorite type of Fantasy creature.
Caitlin frowned at her flowers. Maybe there was something there, a calming feel, a wisp of dust? “What do we need charms for?”
Love and happiness were always welcome, sure. But protection? “What do we need protecting from?”
Beryl leaned forward and sniffed a rose. “Don’t you know by now? The gods of Annwn want his chair.”
The words hit Caitlin hard as if the tree branch overhead had collapsed on her head. She felt faint, and was glad her friend hadn’t brought this up while she was driving. “Why would any— I don’t understand. How can you think that?”
“Look at it, Cait. The horses, the writing he’s carved into the arms and back.”
“What writing? There’s scrollwork, but no writing.”
“Yes there is,” Heather said, “if you look close.”
She shivered. “What’s it say?”
Beryl pursed her lips. “Enough for me to know it’s got all the signs to attract what wants attracting.”
Caitlin pictured the chair in her mind. “No. They’re nothing more than designs, like the ones in his sketchbook.”
“What designs in a sketchbook?”
She led them upstairs to the attic and showed them Trevor’s sketchbook. Spiraling tornadoes, prancing horses and snorting bulls covered the pages in elegant and bold ink lines. Beautiful drawings that simultaneously awed and scared her.
Beryl shut the book quietly. “I amend my earlier statement.”
“What do you mean?”
“We don’t just have work to do. We have a ton of work to do.”
This could be filed under lots of things I suppose. What’s odd about is the evolution of how our species looked at their neighbors. That at one time we considered old age a mark of witchcraft just feels that way now. At least to my modern eyes. The other thing that’s odd is how we at one time in history buried our dead to appease our own fears. Take this poor woman, for instance: A plague victim in 16th century Europe. Was she a witch or a vampire? Imaginations can go wild. For a writer, even more so. 😉