Thursday, October 27, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
If you missed the begining of the story click here: http://nishiserrano.blogspot.com/2011/05/chimera-dark-fairytale-of-love.html
I truly hope you enjoy the ending, and I would love to hear your thoughts on the story, which is a spin from a character in one of my novels releasing in the future. Cheers ...
PART 6 Baked Goodies
It was astounding. How could one woman confuse and enrage him with such a profound gusto as his wife? After his spiteful conflagration on the island, Maira had dotted over him more than usual, even praising him of bravery. Any sane woman would have run in terror. Obviously, William was no match for Maira, whose constant beguiling became a mask of sorts for her own skeleton in the cupboard—an enigma William thought would come to light after his show of ‘bravery’. Three months after the island incident and he was further from Maira’s undisclosed stash as ever. It was high time to up the ante in this little game of hide-and-seek!
It began with shouting. William demanded Maira tell him where she kept her wealth on the grounds that there should be no secrets between a man and wife. The argument turned heated, until William let his fist fly, the first time he ever hit Maira. She made quite a show of crying and running about the house making sure everyone knew he had taken his anger out on her. After his temper abated, William went to apologize, and noticed, strangely enough, there was no bruise marring her perfect face. The next bout of fighting wasn’t long away. Bit-by-bit William’s wrath manifested outside his head. The beatings became more frequent, until Maira stood her ground.
“If you continue along this path, I shall be forced to fight back,” was all Maira said after the last hammering.
“You can’t prove I’ve hit you, your skin never shows my mark. Obviously, I punish you too lightly,” William spat.
“Why do you punish me at all my husband? Have you tired of my love? Is greed overriding your common sense?” Maira feared her time of true love had come to an end.
“I will not tolerate secrets in my house any longer!” William shouted, his arm swiping books and parchments from the table in the sitting room. He quickly approached Maira with a raised and clenched fist, ready to give her another go. “Tell me your secret you damnable whore!” he cried. As he struck, something inexplicable happened. William’s knuckles swung at empty air. Maira was no longer in front of him. And something else, he suddenly felt as if a thousand hornets had stung his flesh. William stood there trying to figure out what was happening. He looked to his chest and arms and legs, blood welled from shallow cuts up and down his body. Gasping, he turned to see Maira standing at a distance with her arms crossed, smirking.
“Do not take my own threats lightly dear husband. Did I not warn you that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself?”
How was it possible? He a knight, who had fought in countless wars slaying hordes of battle hardened men, and here he was defeated by his own wife? Impossible! William charged her again meaning to rip the smug grin from her face. He found himself kissing the floor. The skin on his back burned. Maira made sure to cut him deeper this time, teach him a lesson he had no intention of learning. On all fours, dripping blood, William laughed while gathering himself to stand.
“Well met. I have been foolish. We are quite the pair, are we not?” He said cheerily.
“Do you still love me, William?”
“Yes, even the more knowing we are the perfect match.” Maira’s eyes were lit again with adoration at his words. William came forward to hug her. It was the second time they embraced in a pact of blood.
A fire roared in the hearth before a table and two chairs placed close enough to bask in its warmth. Maira sat in one chair as William poured her a special cup of tea and gingerly placed sweet biscuits on her plate.
Maira picked one of the biscuits and daintily took a bite. “Mmm … fantastic William, you needn’t have gone through the trouble of making biscuits and tea yourself!”
He put the tea-pot on the table between them, and sat in the other chair. “Pah, I wasn’t always a knight. In fact, my beginnings were rather humble. My family consisted of struggling farmers. It’s what drove me to become a knight. I was making biscuits with my mother at an early age.”
“Well they’re delightful. I taste a hint of something … is it almond?”
William stiffened. “Yes my love, almond is a secret ingredient. You will probably recognize a bit of rum in the tea as well.”
Maira picked up her cup and drank. Sighing, she settled back in the chair with eyes closed. William’s rigid pose watched his wife closely. She seemed suspended in the sigh. Suddenly her breath hitched and her eyes popped open startling William.
“Oh, my, I do believe this dreary weather is making me a tad peaked. I hope you don’t mind if I retire to bed early?” She asked.
“Not at all dearest, shall I help you to bed?”
Maira chuckled, “How endearing, no. These last two months have been wonderful, our love blossoms. Good dreaming.” Gathering herself from the chair Maira kissed him on the forehead and made her way to the grand bed, and climbed under the sheets. William waited with bated breath. The bedchamber was silent. His fingernails dug into the leather armrests. The fire crackled too noisily. William felt a trickle of sweat run down his cheek. From the bed, a moan sent William’s heart pounding, then the sound of a fart.
“Oops, do excuse me dearest,” Maira said from under the covers. His face scrunched in disgust.
“Is your stomach upset?” he asked hopefully.
The sound of loud snoring filled the chamber. William jumped up. He raced to the bed and stared at the lump hidden by covers. What was taking so damnable long?! The amount of poison he added to the biscuits and tea would have instantly killed a cow! The covers gently rose and fell with each of her breaths. But she did not stir; no choking, no violent spasms of ghastly cramping, no vomiting her entrails. NOTHING! His mind shouted. Maybe the vile liquid is working slowly, eating away at her insides. William pulled a chair up beside the bed, intent on watching until she convulsed in death’s arms.
The next thing he knew, Maira is sitting up in bed calling his name. But something isn’t right.
The chamber is filled with morning light, and Maira is smiling and preparing to get out of bed! William had fallen asleep. So this must be a dream, yes, he was dreaming that Maira is still alive, instead of turning cold and blue.
“Is anything the matter husband?” Maira said as she jumped from the bed and stretched in the morning light.
It isn’t possible. She’s dead, she has to be. William slapped his own face, and decided it to be true. Maira is as alive as ever.
“Are you feeling ill?” Maira asked, reaching to touch his forehead. William grasped her wrist. It was solid, and warm.
“No. No, I am not ill. I did not realize I had fallen asleep in the chair,” he replied grouchily.
She shrugged and went off to perform her morning duties.
“I hate you!” William muttered vehemently under his breath. Somehow his plan had gone wrong. He racked his brain, but it had all gone perfectly, except for the fact that Maira was seemingly impervious to poisoning. It took four more times of attempting to poison her to discover that latter fact. By then, William’s sanity was hanging by a fringe.
There was an ideal amount of autumn moonlight, but not enough to be accused of a faulty aim in the dark.
“I believe I’ve spotted a pheasant,” Maira said over her shoulder. William reigned in his horse, and quietly removed an arrow from his sheath. He waited for Maira’s instructions. They had hunted together like this many times.
“There!” she whispered excitedly. The pheasant broke cover and made deeper for the forest. She kicked her heels into the horse and galloped off after it.
The arrow, notched tight, released from the string. Its silver tip cut the air. Ahead of him the forest is a jumble of shadows, but not his wife’s moon illuminated hair. He heard a ‘thunk’ and squawk. He did not see Maira slump in her seat. His evil smile faltered when he noticed Maira turn in her seat and beam him a ghastly wide open grin.
“Dearest, I thought I was to get the first shot?” she exclaimed. William was at a loss for words. “Look, you’ve killed the bird—an excellent shot!”
It is Maira who should be dead on the ground, not the pheasant. He had specifically aimed for her back.
“What’s gotten in to you? C’mon …” she gave him one inquisitive once over and waved him over to the fallen bird.
In quick succession, William dislodged four more arrows. He heard a surprised squeak. There, it is finally finished, the hag is surely dead! A pent-up sigh of relief escaped his lips.
“William, be careful, the tree branches appear to be unstable over here.”
Jerking in the saddle at the voice, William nearly toppled off his horse. The blood drained from his heart. Madness was closer than ever.
William almost started believing in what the stable boy and his woman had claimed. Though he knew this to be untruth—Maira is loved by all, and is most likely a saint blessed by God, and his evil incapable of touching her. Therefore, his final plan would decide their fate.
So, it was on this very pretty and bright spring day that William baked Maira something even more special than the previous toxic treats.
“How marvelous William, a picnic amongst my darling orchard! I can’t wait for the dessert you promised!” Maira clapped gleefully at the spread laid out on the blanket. William smiled down at her, oh yes, dessert indeed!
“I’ve brought the finest of wine, meats, and cheeses—we shall have a feast today,” he said as he sat cross legged opposite her.
“I’ll be sure to save room.” Maira poured the wine and they ate in a seemingly happy peace. William was glad Augden decided to sit this picnic out. When their bellies were full and they lay back dappled in the airy light, William broke the contentment.
“Maira, you know you are the only woman I have ever loved, do you not?”
“Why of course I do!”
“Then, I will ask you a question I’ve asked repeatedly one last time, and after, there will be no going back,” he said cryptically.
“Whatever are you talking about?” Maira’s head swiveled to gaze at William, who was still looking into the sky beyond the tree branches.
“Specifically, I’m talking about your fortune, which by all rights is our fortune, though you never let me in on your little secret of where it is hidden.”
Maira let out a loud, long sigh. “Do we really have to argue about this again? Can’t you just be happy and let it go? Why does it hound you so? Is greed truly what drives you, my husband?”
William paused before he spoke, and grinning, he angled his face to hers. “Yes, that is, to the part about greed.”
Pushing herself into a sitting position, Maira harrumphed and says, “You have been a more than generous husband, however, I will never confess what you ask of.”
It was William’s turn to sit up. A serious cast of rumination darkened his features. From his belt he removed a sharp dagger. Maira visibly tensed. The moment sparked hope in his black heart, perhaps it was best for her to fear him. He hefted the weight of the dagger between the palms of his hands and watched Maira’s eyes follow it. In a swift flash, he elevated the blade and brought it down. It struck through the cloth and into the ground between them. Maira’s wide eyes barely blinked. William chuckled as he pulled from the picnic basket a perfectly baked pie. Next to the knife, he set the pie.
“Dessert, as promised …”
He was overjoyed to see Maira’s look of confusion, and then suspicion.
“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked.
Maira was staring at the pie as she whispered, “Yes, of course.”
“Then you may also recall how you made me promise to never eat your apples?”
A pall consumed Maira’s visage, her lips once rosy, now drained of color.
William’s fingers dipped into the pie. Removing a sweet, apple laden chunk, he held it close to her face and watched a new sort of horror form. Licking his lips, William brought the dripping pie to his mouth, making as if ready to gobble it up. “Surprise!” he toothily smiled.
Never in all his days of murder and mayhem had he witnessed such a profound expression of shock and terror as the one before him now.
“William, please … don’t,” Maira weakly begged.
Wiggling his brows, he replies, “Mmm … fresh apple pie! It’s all yours if you just tell me the location of the treasure,” he growled the last.
Again Maira sighed, the rigidness of her back deflated with her words, “No, my husband. There are some secrets never to be spoken … or eaten.”
“You leave me no choice then … bottoms up!” the pie smooshed into his mouth, chased by the greedy licking of each sticky finger.
Not a muscle twitched on Maira’s face, she sat as if she were a stone cold statue. A theatrical gulp finished the bite. William threw his head back, laughing hysterically. It was a long time coming that he wished to spite her by eating from her precious orchard. After all, what could she really do about it? Obviously it didn’t bother her enough to stop him from eating the forbidden fruit.
“Alas, poor William,” Maira’s voice broke through his laughter, “You have many talents, but then, so do I.”
Clicking and scratching of sorts were emanating from near his wife. William scanned the trees in search of the sound’s culprit. As his peripheral gaze caught sight of his wife, William screamed while grabbing for his sword and leaping up and backward. Maira stood too. And it was only her standing there, not a monster. William shook his head, and from aside, again he perceived the unbelievable.
“Wh-what the devil?” he shouted. His head swung ridiculously from side to side, and with each inadvertent glimpse he descried the ghastly. The thing parading as his wife jeered as she stepped toward him.
“What is it about you men? Even with the promise of wealth and youth eternal, you cannot resist the temptation of my orchards. I only wish to find true happiness in marital bliss, but once my lovers have eaten of my apples, you see my true identity.”
The trembling sword hand fought to keep the chimera at a distance. “Stay back you demon!” William yelled. For what else could this tragic mish-mash of grotesque body parts be? Multiple aberrant limbs ended in sharp pointy bits and razors wavering around a mass of a grizzled beast sent up from the depths of hell. How was it even possible he had made love to such a monstrosity?!
“Pah! I’ll have you know, my kind are considered healers and the very finest of surgeons. Sorry to inform you, husband, but the only hell there is, is the one you will very shortly experience. Do you want to know why?” Maira paused, waiting for his reply, when there was only the continuing stare of dreaded disbelief, she added, “Because, like you, I have an amoristic penchant for a certain art. It is the reason I am banished from home.”
With each staggering footfall backward, Maira approached, tentacle like appendages sneaking around his slow defenses to nip and stab tauntingly close to his tender vitals. William knew how supernaturally quick she could move. It was entirely too impossible—he was supposed to be the murderer, the vile corrupter of innocence! He had to admire her just a pinch, she was after all, his truest match.
“I’ve been wrong princess, as I behold you now—I know you are my one and only, a partner to my innermost desires!”
“You flinch when you speak. Come, give me a kiss …”
William could not, and would never again be able to grace the lips of any woman.
Something akin to a pout rippled over the creature’s ménage of features. The thing called Maira sighed, “Ah, well, in the end, curiosity doth kill the cursory.”
The last straw of sanity broke. The pent up years pandering to Maira spurred William forward screaming, “It’s cat, you demented witch!”
Sword blade pitched—up in the air in a wash of blood. It was no longer attached to an arm. Maira was a blur in his field of vision. Flecks of red and steel glistening sped past like the stars seen from atop a galloping horse. William howled as he felt the hacking of her knives carve his flesh. Her cackling shuddered through what parts he had left, which weren’t much. Falling on its back, the castrated and mangled torso barely recognizable as the great knight and murderer Sir William gasped and gurgled malevolently. A shadow fell over him and landed on his head, blocking out the sky. Claws dug into his skull. A beady eye stared into William’s own maddened ogling. Augden squawked derisively, as if reminding William of all his trespasses. The shiny beak, tapered into a serrated point, briefly lifted. A blood curdling wail followed by the squelch of a penetrated eyeball was the last sound ever to issue from the greedy knight’s charmed vocal chords.
How Maira loved this part of the relationship, the part when the dirty bastard broke his vow. Every liar deserved a good severing of the ties. She chuckled to herself, then suddenly halted in her grisly work. Snapping to attention, Maira’s mood quickly changed to one of dread.
At first she wasn’t sure what it was that made her wary, but it soon clarified by the ripple in the air and the shaking of her trees causing a whirlwind of leaves to be stripped from the branches. A sound of trumpeted warning and then the pounding of hooves filled the orchard.
There was no time to gather her beloved island and flee, Maira was surrounded.
“Maira Annwyn, you are hereby under arrest by the Court of the Tarobolium and its affiliates who have deemed you unfit to wander the lands of the humans, and will be tried for your repeated murderous activities. You are hereby in our custody and will come without fuss or fight. What say you Princess Maira,” spoke a tall, darkly armored figure from atop an unusually large and imposing beast.
Maira smiled. “Care for an apple?”
To find out more about Maira’s story and what happens to her, stay tuned—she is one of many unique characters from my epic dark fantasy novel.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Crimson Stained Lace Productions
LC: Well my story is a little vast, but I'll give you the run down. To start, if you wondered how to pronounce the last name it is "cough-felt". I normally do a hand gesture when I explain it. Anyhow, I grew up in a teeny tiny town of Glasgow, Kentucky. I wasn't really allowed to watch scary movies, but I would stay up late at night after everyone went to sleep to watch anything scary. Horror has always fascinated me, I'm kind of a scare junkie. When I was a kid it was a thrill to watch The Exorcist, Pumpkinhead, Candyman or the X-files. I think though the most memorable experience that drove me to my love of horror has to be Edgar Allan Poe, I was reading his work from the time I was probably 9 years old, and throughout grade school I watched a lot of the Roger Corman/Vincent Price films. So my love for the scare doesn't stop at movies, Kentucky has some haunted places, and even though ghosts and hauntings scare the bejeezus out of me, I can never get enough.
Before I graduated high school, I started writing scripts and stories, because I wanted to go to film school. My now husband, bought me a Digital8 Handycam for a graduation present, but it set on the shelf for a couple of years. After feeling like I was in a rut, and going to school for anthropology, I dropped everything and started making horror films in 2007. I taught myself everything from camera operation, producing and editing, my husband helped me along the ride. We made a few films there and in 2009, we moved to Los Angeles. I decided to attend the New York Film Academy for a 12 week workshop, just to help brush up on things and from there I made several more films, including my dancing zombie flick called "The Sound of Zombies". My husband, James, has been writing most of the stuff for the past 4 years, up until this past year I've been able to write some great stuff, including my new flick. So in short, I'm a writer, producer, director, editor. Directing is my real passion though.
There's something about horror that baffles me, it also helps me to overcome my own fears. I kind of have a thing about people on ceilings in movies, it really freaks me out. So now I know I need to make something with someone on the ceiling, horror is kind of a messed up therapy for me.
NS: There’s a lot to learn from your adventures, can you give us some links to CSL, and we’re dying to know more about your production company.
LC: I started Crimson Stained Lace in 2007, it’s really my own. When I came up with the name, it was really something that I wanted to inspire horror but have a touch of femininity, so most everything is updated on our website www.crimsonstainedlace.com. The website has a good run down of the company and our people. We're also on YouTube, where you can watch trailers and some of our films which is www.youtube.com/crimsonstainedlace. And right now we're running an IndieGoGo campaign, until October 16th, to fund our new film Internal Thoughts: http://www.indiegogo.com/Internal-Thoughts. There's so much happening right now, that we are trying to update all of it.
NS: Do you have a favorite female horror producer? And why is she on your kudos list?
LC: I gotta tell you this is a hard question. I didn't come out of the womb knowing that there were women horror filmmakers. It was only in 2008, that I found it out when I was at a festival, and a guy came up to me after my screening (where I was the only female horror director there) and told me about Shannon Lark and the The Chainsaw Mafia. After I learned about her, the world changed for me. I learned about so many women and realized that some of my favorite movies were directed by women. For instance, American Psycho gained a whole new perspective from me after I learned about Mary Harron. But since being in the world of women in horror, I have to say that one of my favorite female filmmakers in horror is a friend of mine, Marichelle Daywalt. She has made some fantastic pieces, what drew me to her was one of her firsts "Anniversary". It's a gorgeous short that proves women can be just as messed up as men, maybe even more so. She has the most twisted ideas, and I love it.
NS: If you could pick any female actress you wanted to be in one of your films, who would it be?
LC: Oooohhhh another tough question, but an exciting one to answer. Quite honestly, I'm not into fancy-shmancy glamor Hollywood types. A friend of mine wrote a story for me to direct, it's a fantastic story, but is going to require some cash, more cash than we have right now. But there are 2 main characters, and I had only 2 women in mind for these roles Shannon Lark and Tiffany Shepis. Two of the most amazing actresses that I know, that don't get enough praise and recognition. They are the two women that I want in one of my films if not more. Sorry I couldn't narrow it down to one.
NS: It takes a lot of people to make a film and run a production company, tell us a bit about the rest of Crimson Stained Lace’s crew.
LC: Well it started out with only me and the hubby, and it was that way for a long time. We've had a couple of people go in and out of the picture. But right now we have a few reoccurring players, and I love the team we have, we're so connected and we're all friends. James Coffelt, my husband, has been the go to guy, he's my grip, artist, actor, he's operated the camera a few times (although he doesn't like to), he's muscle, a carpenter, makeup effects artist, you name it and he's done it. He's currently going to school for animation and visual effects, so hopefully that will help future films.
Now we have Chris Wingood, who I met when he was software producer, and we converted him to take his hand at film. A little something that's interesting with Chris is that horror isn't exactly his thing. I think we are slowly converting him. We have Crizzle, she's a fantastic AD and Script Sup. She's so handy, no matter what challenges I give her, she adapts and figures it out. She's kind of been my right hand for the past few films. On the post side of things, we recently brought on Jerry Barksdale, who's a great composer and musician. He does all of his work all the way from Kentucky, and we actually didn't connect until we moved to LA. As far as makeup effects, we have Lauren Ishii, who knows her stuff. She came aboard this past year. And then lastly, but most certainly not least is Ron Chavez who's a fantastic photographer. Everyone is friends with everyone. We don't make any money; we all do it for free because we enjoy making movies. In fact, most everything that we have monetarily goes into making films.
NS: What are your near future projects?
LC: I thought you'd never ask. So there are a couple of hush-hush projects looming around, but I mentioned "Internal Thoughts". It's written and directed by me. It's a story based upon a point in my life where I might have been psychotic and crazy. But the IndieGoGo campaign is going on for that; we have some great cast and crew, which is approximately 70% female, including DP Jessica Gallant, & Angele Caron as our stunt coordinator. This film stars twins Rachel and Rebekah Rife, Truett Butler and Adam Smith. We are extremely excited about this project, because we finally have everything we need to make this film right, including cast, crew and equipment.
I just finished a non-horror comedy, which is in post-production called "CrotchRocket Mission". This is definitely something new that we tried. It stars Shey Lyn Zanotti and James Coffelt.
Then we have the "Have A Heart For Horror Cookbook", which is set for release in February 2012. Although, it's not a film, it is a huge undertaking. It's all about women in horror from all aspects, including writers, artists, filmmakers and more. I really wanted something that could bring women in horror together, something that you could collectively take with you or have. It's also something that demonstrates the yin and yang of women, yes we can be suzie-homemaker, but we could slice you open with a butcher knife without a second thought. We have a ton of women, and right now we are looking for art and poetry by women, and also anyone can purchase an ad space. I'm hoping it goes over well enough to do a second volume. All of the proceeds goes to "Project Get Safe", which helps to prevent real life horrors such as abuse and domestic violence. www.getsafeusa.com
I'm also working on a documentary, which is going to take a few years and is about boardgaming, my other passion. If you don't find me with a camera, you'll find me rolling a D6.
There are also a couple more surprises like zombies, steampunk and other things that we're planning for. But at this point, I think we're going to start drawing things out of a hat for what is next, because there is so much to do.
NS: Where would you like to see CSL in the future?
LC: I'm not 100% sure. I really want to bring the knowledge of filmmaking back to the south. My family has a lot of land, and maybe I can create a compound of sorts with a huge 10,000 sq foot warehouse that we can have green screens and such and live there. I'd really like to do a few things with CSL, maybe an after school program for children to learn how to make films. Create a small festival for horror in my hometown. But, the ultimate goal is to keep making awesome movies and making them bigger and better, and just maybe having enough of a following that will help us fund our films for the future. We really love making shorts, but would like to try our hand at making a feature. It's kind of a toss-up, CSL and I are one in the same, and I want a lot for it. So for now we'll just live in the moment.
NS: Where can we find you this Halloween, and what costume will you be traipsing around in?
LC: Hmmmm....I might not be dressed up, but I'm hoping to go and see Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer here in LA. "Internal Thoughts" is kind of picking my pocket, because it’s such a labor of love. So Halloween may consist of jack-o-lanterns, pumpkin ice cream and Charlie Brown may be in my plans, which will be perfectly fine with me. However, I recently went red, and if at all possible I'd like to just dress up as Poison Ivy for no reason. I'm a fan of being crazy and dressing up anytime. Don't be surprised if I do that for a red carpet event. Halloween is awesome, but I don't really have a strong pull to dress up and do crazy stuff just on that particular day, everyday should be Halloween.
NS: Any advice you would like to impart on those aspiring to create their own horror films?
LC: Just make a film, get a camera, and get some friends. Make a film that's a couple of minutes, and then get longer and longer which each following film. It doesn't matter what camera you use. In all honesty its more about sound. I had a teacher to tell me that you blink your eyes not your ears, so you can miss the visual mistakes, but your ears are not so forgiving. Don't overwhelm yourself, it's a good idea to start off with as few players as possible, then add more and more as you get comfortable.
Keep in mind that a bathtub of blood is a lot of work. it once took me about 12 hours to mix one up for my very first film. Funny story. Really just be passionate about it, don't get into making any sort of movie with the idea that you're going to make money, because you'll be disappointed. The last piece of advice is, it's ok to panic. Right before I film any of my films, I go into a small anxiety attack, which may or may not require a visit to the toilet. But panic before filming, it'll get it out of your system and keep you cool for the shoot. It's my secret to share with aspiring filmmakers.
NS: Last parting words? J
LC: Thank you so much Nishi, for having me. Sorry if I've talked your head off, it's really been a blast. I'd just really like to encourage everyone to support female filmmakers, they often don't quite get as much recognition as their male counterparts, but they make some awesome films, and a lot of them will be featured in the cookbook. One last this is to go check out the IndieGoGo campaign for "Internal Thoughts". We thought we would have another go with trying IndieGoGo, last time we had some success. We're offering some really great perks and awesome items in exchange for donations. It's really worth checking out.
What a pleasure to have you over for an interview! I’m thrilled to the bone for Crimson Stained Lace, and plan to see great projects gracing the horror industry.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
She's been writing since she was fifteen. Her first novel, "Love on the Mats" was a graphic, heartwarming tale of a wrestler and a cutie coed which was lovingly edited by the c-squad basketball team on the long bus rides throughout the season. They were all sure it would be published and it still has a home in a folder...somewhere.
Stephanie Beck loves romance and all things romantic, heart-warming and usually funny, though a more serious piece will find its way in occasionally.
In her spare time she knits and sews, walks the dog, plays with her three wonderful children and tries to get her husband to act out the naughty things she researches...oh the sacrifices she makes for her craft.
Blurb for Hog Wild:
When Lula Wolfendale’s motorcycle breaks down on her way to a Harley rally, she detours into tiny Shoshone, CA to find a new ride. Seducing bikers Beau and Rob Hogue and commandeering their Haleys is easy; finding sexual satisfaction is a “hog’ of a different color. A Blue Phantom, to be exact, owned by the pair’s older brother, Jesse. After brief, unsatisfying encounters with the first two Hogues, Lula approaches Jesse with a proposition: a sexual contest for his Phantom, where Lula will emerge with either a bike to die for or the climax of her dreams. Or can she possibly obtain both?
Blurb for Almost Perfect: