Wandering Hallows Night

Hashing an Alien

2012-02-19T09:13:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I have one of those mornings when I wake up ravenous. Really, it sounds like I’ve been abducted in the night and by morning my stomach is ready to hatch an alien.

And so, since this overcast yet slightly muggy morning has me itching to make a feast, I give you one of my favorite recipes: Corned-Beef Hash!

Ingredients:

One package of uncooked cured beef with corned spice packet: Make this the night before as it takes a number of hours to cook a corned beef hash—and make sure you cook it with some cabbage in the pot to give it extra flavor! Just follow the package instructions (it’s really simple) and then add the cabbage to the pot and let it cook.

In the morning when you’re ready for your hash do this: use a food processor to grind up about a full two cups of the hashed beef, then set aside.

Chop up the following:

1/3 cup sweet yellow onion

¼ cup green bell pepper

¼ cup red bell pepper

½ cup cabbage (not the cabbage you cooked in the pot the previous night, but fresh uncooked cabbage)

¾ red potatoes (cut into small squares)

3 tablespoons oil (as needed to crisp and prevent sticking of your hash)

Salt and pepper added to your liking

Throw all of the above plus your two cups of hash into a skillet and crisp ‘til nice and brown. Serve over thinly sliced toasted bread and add an over easy egg. I guarantee your alien will settle back down from the depths of the bowels it grumbled its way from and both of you will go back to sleep in a warm and comfortable food coma!

Happy Feastings!

Nishi Serrano

“Creating fantastic worlds imaginative enough to hold the unexplored”

What's Love Got to Do with It?

2012-01-16T12:04:00.000-08:00

Ah, February how do I love thee ... let me count the ways: Flowers, restaurant reservations, waxing poetry, hand-cuffs, and... CHOCOLATE!

These are all things we associate with the American version of Valentine’s Day. But just where did this holiday of love spring from? Well, the answer is naturally exactly from Spring, the coming of that is. What better way to ensure the fertility of Spring than by bagging a man in an act of love well before the ripeness of Eostre (Easter—just think eggs, and you know what I’m sayin’) begins?

For instance, in Japan February is celebrated differently—actually, quite a bit more accurately—because it is the women who are obligated to give chocolates and cards to the men of their dreams. Yes, that’s right—women take the first initiative over there. Here is how the girls in Japan rate their chocolate misadventures (taken from the blog Colombianaenjapon.blogspot.com):

1. Honmei-Choko: Chocolate-of-love; for a lover, husband, boyfriend, partner, etc.
2. Tomo-Choko: From the word tomodachi meaning friends; therefore chocolates you give to friends with no romantic intent
3. Giri-Choko: meaning obiligatory chocolate. Giri-choko are treats with no romantic value that you give to your male co-workers because you have to. After a few nudges, male teachers admitted to me that they would feel kind of bad if they got no obligatory chocolate.
4. My-Choko: Chocolate you buy for yourself.
5. Giaku-Choko: meaning reverse chocolate, where boys give chocolates to the girls. I asked dozens of high school boys if they gave giaku-chokos and only one actually did. Word says it will be more popular next year.

But never fear, the boys have their day to woo a heart’s desire on March 14^th which is called ‘White Day’ (pun on Americans? Ha, ha …maybe!), and they are obligated to give the girls choko-goodness!

An interesting fact I came up with while researching Valentine’s Day in Japan is the name: Valentine=Barentain, which sounds an awful lot like Japan’s Shinto goddess Benzaiten. Benzaiten is the goddess of love, wisdom, arts, music, fertility, and good fortune, and she is one of the esteemed Seven Gods of Fortune, and being the only female of the seven.

Of course the Valentine’s Day we have come to recognize has its own ancient roots, and this does not involve a certain Saint—because let’s face it—which saint do you know who promotes sex? Saint Dominatrix maybe! Okay, let’s go back further to the Germanic and Greek/Roman gods.

Let’s talk about Juno. She’s this powerful chick who’s associated with marriage and love as well as war. I can see where she’s coming from, once in a while a little tiff can lead to some kick-ass steamy catchin’ of the fuzzies. So around February, the Roman’s would celebrate Juno Fructifier—juicy! And then the following day, they would celebrate the feast of Lupercalia, a feast honoring the god of fertility. I bet those parties were ROCKIN’!

The coming of Spring is after all the time of love, sexuality, and procreation. In Russia, you were not allowed to strike the ground with a hoe until after the spring equinox, as the earth was considered pregnant. The Spring Equinox today is in March, but in the past it has fallen in February. According to the ‘old calendar’, Imbolc (celebrated in Scotland and Ireland) was originally held on the 12^th of February, with ties to the goddess Brigid, who is the equivelant of the Norse/German goddess Freyja.

In many traditions it is speculated that the goddesses of this particular time are moon associated, to coincide with the lunar calendar of old. I don’t know about you, but a moonlit bumpy-bumpy is quite romantic—just like a candlelit dinner—sort of its own representation of the moonlight.

So, does all this talk about lusty shenanigans get you toasty? I hope it does! And if it doesn’t, then here are some things that will:

Some of the best droolicious chocolates I’ve ever tasted:

Jin Patisserie: http://www.jinpatisserie.com

Xocolatl de David: http://www.xocolatldedavid.com/home.html

Fran’s Chocolates: www.franschocolates.com

Theo Chocolates: www.theochocolate.com

Need advice on men and dating, here’s a fun blog to visit:

Jenn Burton’s Blog ‘Have Him Your Way’: http://www.jennburton.com

Oh, yes, let us not forget the cocktails!

Rouge Noir: Sultry and spicy, this cocktail originally delighted the court of King Louis XIV in 1632!

Ingredients:

1.5 oz. Combier Rouge
.5 oz Combier Orange Liqueur
4 oz. Champagne Brut
1 Orange zest

Preparation:

Pour Combier Rouge and Combier Orange Liqueur in a champagne flute. Top with champagne brut. Garnish with one orange zest.

Rose Drop: A favorite of mine from The Delta Café in Portland, and easy to make.

Ingredients: Imported Rose Water, Vodka, and fresh squeezed lemon. Sweetened and serve with a sugared rim in a martini glass.

Places to take your woman, or man:

If you are in Seattle, then you must take your date before dinner to ‘Dilettante’, ah, I cannot impart on how impressed your date will be by this choice! http://www.dilettante.com

In Portland, since I already mentioned it once, I’ll mention it again: ‘The Delta Café’ has some of the best cocktails in town, and the southern comfort food is better than the food I’ve had here in Louisiana. And, the décor is funky fun!

http://www.deltacafebar.com

If you are in Louisiana, then a romantic place to set out for is The Columns Hotel in The Garden District of NO. You don’t need a room reservation to go and enjoy the atmosphere. They have a full bar, restaurant, and Victorian tea room. http://www.thecolumns.com

Can’t forget my hometown of California, and yes, pretty much the whole state is my home. I recommend a valentine’s getaway to Santa Cruz—the beaches are fantastic, and a lot of the time secluded if you drive up north along the coast, so secluded that you can do a bit of nude sun-worshipping. Top your day off with a trip to Boony Doon Vineyard’s ‘Cellar Door’. The great thing about the Cellar Door is it is in a funky little shopping area filled with art and tasting rooms! Plus, the Cellar Door has a steampunk kinda feel to it. http://www.bonnydoonvineyard.com

Well folks, I could go on and on with my imparting of Valentine’s wisdom, but I think I’ll save some for next year!

Sending you all kisses of spring, and blessings from the goddesses of love!

Cheers … Nishi Serrano

And The Winner Is ...

2012-01-11T12:55:00.000-08:00

David Donaghe!

You are the winner of the New Year's Resolution contest!

Congratulations!

Stay tuned everyone, there will be more contests coming soon.

Infact, 'The Forbidden Bookshelf' is featuring a contest and character interview on January 29th--be sure to mark it on your calendars and stop by--I would love to see you there:

http://www.theforbiddenbookshelf.com

New Year's Resolution ...?

2011-12-29T13:44:00.000-08:00

The holidays are once again behind us, the time with family and friends eating and drinking until we pass out is over until next year, well, for some of us anyway.

           I’ve never been one for making New Year’s resolutions, because, like many others who are gun-ho in the beginning, life just gets so darn busy and I inevitably end up guilty for not keeping them. I do however have goals—I set these aside for myself all through the year.
           This year’s goals are already planned, and they’ve been planned since October, barring any unforeseen events—which always happen—I stick to these goals solidly, even with the unexpected. For those of my friends following my writing, this year you can expect some real exciting stuff! First off will be my erotic Steampunk novella Mile Below Peep Show the companion to my short story Mile High Airship Club. If you’ve ever dreamed of deliciously drenching undersea adventure then this will be the novella for you—and I can honestly say it is beyond your wildest imaginings! If you’re taking a vacation next year, be sure to take it while reading MBPS!
           Next will be the epic novel I’ve been dying to get to you all—I can’t divulge the title yet—as I’m not sure what the publisher will decide on, but it’s a young adult dark fantasy with a very unique twist on the world of the faerie. It’s not for the faint of heart, and yes, there is romance, but not much—this is a purely heart-racing on the edge of your seat adventure! Need a place to escape and love bigger-than-life world building—this will be the book for you to take note of! The pages are filled with monsters and creatures never before written about and chock-full of new and old mythology.
          Another little gem will be my short-story Chimera: A Dark Fairytale of Love, it’s available here on my blog for you to read for free, but I will also be adding it to Amazon. com as a free read.

            If food is your thing, two of my recipes will be in the Have A Heart for Horror Cookbook, a benefit cookbook brought to you by Crimson Stained Lace Productions.
            And for those of my friends who are GBLT , I’ve been working on an anthology of gay erotic horror stories, and again, this anthology will be much different from the usual fare of reads, and it covers a wide variety of monstrously entertaining treats!
           So, I better get writing, huh …
            What are your new year’s goals? I would love to hear what you have planned this year—whether it be this year’s Halloween costume, events attending, or even changing jobs—let’s work together to keep our goals positive and on track!

Thank You Everyone!--for your comments and participating ;) The contest is now over, but feel free to leave any comments you would like ... Cheers!

Wishing Everyone Years of Endless Wonders!

Nishi Serrano
www.decadentpublishing.com
www.hellfirepublishing.com
https://twitter.com/#!/NishiSerrano

Cursing Up The Christmas Tree

2011-12-22T07:23:00.000-08:00

(Disclaimer: no trees were hurt in the making of this story!)

CURSING UP THE CHRISTMAS TREE: Part One, by Carson Buckingham

READ PART TWO ON CARSON’S BLOG: http://carsonbuckingham.blogspot.com

*****

I don’t know about all of you, but living in my house is a real experience—especially at Christmas time.

To start with, I lapse into temporary insanity, which exhibits itself in the Yuletide delusion that I suddenly have the culinary ability that I so obviously lack during the rest of the year.

Oh, yes. It’s time to bake the cookies.

It would be sweet if it wasn’t so pathetic. Every year, I bake hundreds of cookies, which I tie up in red or green cellophane with a beautiful bow. These I then present to friends and relatives…who, if they are smart, eat the red or green cellophane and throw away the cookies.

And I don’t bake just one kind of cookie, either. My usual Christmas assortment includes:

· Peanut Butter Stuffed Dates: My adventure in taxidermy

· Sugar Plums: Which may not dance in your head, but certainly do a production number in your colon

· Russian Tea Cakes: Which resemble and taste like eastern European ammunition

· Caramel Bars: The operative word here is “bars”

· Chocolate Bark: With real bark!

· Divinity: A cruel joke

· Meringues: Who needs throwing knives?

· Black and White Brownies: My contribution to the complete destruction of interracial harmony within the fairy realm

· Hermits: What you will become whenever you hear that I’ve been baking cookies again.

The friends I have left refer to this farrago as “The Annual Waste of Ingredients.”

Naturally, my husband, Stij, plays a big part in the festivities of the season, as well. He goes with me to get the Christmas tree. Our children, Leo and Alexandrea, are left at home, suffering from some exotic, as yet unnamed malady resulting from careless cookie consumption.

The first step, upon our arrival at the tree lot, is for Stij to say—in a soft voice that will cause cattle to stampede two towns away—“Criminey! These things are EXPENSIVE! Let’s go over to K-Mart and get a fake one!”

This behavior ceases after I threaten to shove a Tea Cake down his throat.

The lot we go to every year always has a great selection—easily a hundred trees or more, much to Stij’s chagrin. I have the patience of the Venus Di Milo, and will carefully inspect every single tree before making a choice.

Stij, you understand, has no part in this decision whatsoever. He’s just along to shut up, pay for the tree, and tie it to the roof of the car. Until he is needed, he wanders off to the sales shack to have a drink with the other men who are waiting for their wives to pick out trees. Oh, and that’s another thing—it’s an unwritten law that all men must BYOB to the Christmas tree lot. And they’re happy to do it, believe me.

OK. Three hours later, the tree is on the roof of the car and everybody’s happy—I because I got the “perfect” tree; and Stij because he got Alvin drunk enough on the good scotch he bought to knock an extra five dollars off the price. The simple economics of the fact that he had to pay forty dollars for the scotch that bought him a five dollar discount are lost on him.

By the time we get home, our children, being the resilient little creatures that they are, have recovered from the cookie poisoning that would have killed anyone else and are ready to help put up the tree.

The first argument is where to put it. Leo always thinks it would be best to put it in his room.

“You can’t have it in your room, Leo,” Alexandrea exclaims. “There’s no chimney!”

“That’s OK,” Leo assures her. “There’s one in the living room. He can just come down in there and walk into my room. He needs to lose a little weight, anyhow.”

It’s at this point that Stij has had enough and gives them THE LOOK. “It’s going in the living room,” he intones in a voice from beyond the grave.

They didn’t ever argue with him. Legend had it that after THE LOOK came THE REMINGTON. They’d never pushed their luck past THE LOOK.

Location decided, I fetch the tree stand…the bane of male existence everywhere. That metal nightmare with the three trunk screws has been known to fill lunatic asylums the world over during the month of December.

“It won’t matter which side shows,” I chirp. “The whole tree is perfect, just perfect.”

After twenty minutes of wrestling, Stij gets it screwed into the stand and steps back.

The tree is listing about 45 degrees to starboard.

“*($%*()(&%&$^*&(*@#@#@#!” he mutters. Crawling back under, unscrewing it, realigning the trunk, then rescrewing it back in place again.

He crawls out and steps back.

45 degrees to port now.

After two hours of this, he makes a discovery. About half way up the tree, the trunk is crooked. And not just mildly, either. The S-bend of the plumbing under the sink is straighter.

Stij slowly emerges from beneath the lower branches. His eyes are red-rimmed. His hair has gone completely white. His teeth are now elongated and pointed. He looks like Dracula’s Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

One look at this apparition and self-preservation kicks in. We all run and hide.

When the cursing and the sounds of heavy equipment die down, and after first waving a hat on the end of a stick out the door, we venture forth to survey the wreckage.

There is a chain saw smoking in the corner and greenery and wood ships festooned about the room. The tree stand has been reduced to a mass of twisted metal, after which it was summarily lobbed into the cat’s litter box.

The tree is now two and a half feet tall and nailed directly to the floor.

I gaze upon it lovingly and smile. “You see? I told you it was perfect.”

-END-

Carson Buckingham--Author of HOME

Sample or purchase HOME (KINDLE and PAPERBACK): http://www.amazon.com/Home-Carson-Buckingham/dp/1463676395/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1323675076&sr=1-1

HOME (PDF and PAPERBACK) : http://www.lulu.com/browse/search.php?fSearchData[author]=Carson+Buckingham&fSearchData[lang_code]=all&fSort=salesRankEver_asc&showingSubPanels=advancedSearchPanel_title_creator

Sample or purchase HOME (EPUB,KINDLE,PDF,RTF,LRF,PDB,Plain text download, Plain text view): http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/97889

Carson Buckingham's Amazon Author's Profile: http://www.amazon.com/Carson-Buckingham/e/B00512RXCK/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Carson Buckingham's Smashwords Author Profile: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/carsonbuckingham

Blog: http://carsonbuckingham.blogspot.com

Thank You Carson!--for this wonderfully tragical comedy or comical tragedy of a Christmas story!

The Curio Emporium's Endless Wonders!

2011-12-14T10:09:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder where you can find a Pipistrellus Javanicus, or perhaps you’re missing that perfectly delicious antique quack White Cross Electric Vibrator? Wonder not ye wayfarers of the curiously exotic, for The Curio Emporium has all your darkest gadgetry desires located under one roof in the steel jungles of the Los Angeles area—to be exact: 1020 Fair Oaks, South Pasadena, CA 91030. So, mark it on your maps and get thee to the emporium!

Furthermore Ladies and Gentleman, Co-owner Jenna Macabre is here today to give you the inside scoop on how she came about such odd treasures from around the globe, and what shadowy endeavors she and Dave Constantine have ‘in store’ for the future:

NS: Welcome to Wandering Hallows Night Jenna, I’m quite sure all my time traveling cohorts are thrilled to learn more about you and your curiosities. My first question is what I like to ask of all my guests: We are dying to know what kind of ‘macabre’ little chitlin’ you were? Obviously, you must have started at an early age as a lover of taxidermy?

Jenna: I have always been fascinated with the Macabre. Growing up I would watch a day’s worth of Tales From The Crypt, The Munsters, Bewitched.. etc etc. I was always so fascinated with the interior of the Munsters home- I always wanted to live in it; cobwebs & all- Can't forget The Tim Burton Films. Of course when it came to Halloween Time, I was ready to help my parents decorate with staple gun in hand! And I cannot forget how interested I would get when going to the local county museum and seeing all the old medical equipment, taxidermy birds & bears, along with the exciting stories that went along with the exhibits.

NS: On this note, tell us more about your artwork that can be found at The Curio Emporium.

Jenna: From all these images stuck in my head from childhood, my inspiration has definitely developed a uniqueness of its own. I create things that I love, things that I myself would buy. Using my fascination with the Victorian era & taxidermy I like to let my mind drift, letting my hands do the work. My Creations become however they turn out. I never truly plan out what it is I am going to make. In short, I like to make creations that one can wear, or displays well on a wall or mantel.

NS: Someone as talented as yourself must have an inspiration, would you care to indulge who, what, and why?

Jenna: Why thank you! I am inspired by everything around me! Candles, old books, a nice breeze, music. Of course I love to work off of history research, past memories, concepts of the occult and so on. I find it interesting that those that fall in love with my work are often not in tune with the past & history. So when they see something of mine, which is based off a concept from 100 years ago, they are astonished, because to them it is something new. In this sense, I feel happy to know that I am keeping the past ALIVE .

NS: I believe it’s safe in saying you’ve accomplished a dream, how did it all come about?

Jenna: My Love (David Constantine) & I share a likeness of minds. In many of our journeys we could never find the shop we dreamed about & on top of it all unique items in our price range. After years of it ‘just being a dream' we began to get serious about it—saving money, searching for a location, understanding the logistics & working hard for several months with the design of the shop & merchandise inventory. And now, here you go ~ a custom made time travel machine. :)

NS: In your words, how would you describe your store to someone who doesn’t know much about steampunk, or the types of curiosities therein?

Jenna: Think back to a time when a room was lit by candle, when movie cinema going was an occasion to dress your best for, when medical attention was nothing more than some alcohol and sterilized scalpel. A time when all men wore hats & women in corsets, inventions were at their peak & the newest book was all the rage.
The Curio Emporium takes you back to memories of your great grandparents long since past. We are viewed as a Museum in which you can walk away with a shopping bag, and money still left in your bank. Our shop in a nutshell—Come travel back in time with us!

NS: As a fellow time-traveler, on one of your sojourns to the past (or future) who was your favorite person of interest you met, or partied frivolously with?

Jenna: ... hmmm... I would have to say Houdini!

NS: Where online can we find you, and are there any events The Curio Emporium will be attending?

Jenna: You can find us 'The Curio Emporium' on Facebook of course, as well as our website www.thecurioemporium.com which has the link to our Ebay shop for those of
you not local, or just too lazy to leave the house :)
     You can also visit our shop at 1020 Fair Oaks Ave., South Pasadena, CA 91030 ( directly across from the old Rialto theatre)
     Our next event is Sat. Dec. 18th ' CURIO BEFORE CHRISTMAS' 3-8pm. food truck, puppet show, artists, ice cream, FREE.

NS: What wonderfully whimsical brassy bits do you and Dave have planned for the future of The Curio Emporium?

Jenna: ... expanding—same shop, more great finds. Stay Tuned!

NS: Fantastical meeting you Jenna! I can’t wait to visit the emporium myself when I’m back in California. Any last parting advice or curious crumbs you would like to leave our readers with?

Jenna: If you ever have an idea, a dream, a wish—Make It Happen! You are the only one who will ever truly stop yourself from anything it is you want to do in life!
     It was Great to meet you too! Thank you for having me!

Remember my friends—Christmas is just around the corner, and what better gift to give than The Curio Emporium’s wonders of worlds past, and futures yet imagined!

Links: www.thecurioemporium.com

Krampusnacht!

2011-12-06T16:51:00.000-08:00

Who’s been naughty, and who’s been nice? If you fear cloven hoofed devils brandishing switches, then you better say nice. Why? Because Krampus may have it out for you, however, if you’re into that sort of kink, well then your answer is—NAUGHTY! Have to say I may be in with the naughty crowd. Is it wrong for me to find a tall, hairy creature threatening to whip this very bad girl exciting? Did I forget to mention the chains (squee!)? Check out the pictures and you decide. I’ve posted a few of my favorites that I’ve found on the web (I do not own these photos), so grab a mug of hot spiked cider, and I’ll tell you a little about Krampus.

     Known as the ‘holiday demon’, Krampus is the evil counterpart to the generous and happy-go-lucky Saint Nicholas (you know—Santa Claus). Krampus follows Ol’ Saint Nick around to dole out the lashes to everyone on Nick’s shit list. If you’re a particularly pretty girl, he might be inclined to chase you even if you were a cherry on the pie all year long—sorry (I suggest you wear a cloak and doff a witch’s nose, fools him everytime!)!

     Krampusnacht (krampus night) is celebrated across the globe, but apparently started in the Alpine countries. Festivals celebrating Krampus can be found from Italy to Japan, and America. There’s even a Krampus beer—seems we all love a horny devil!

     I’ve even read somewhere of a dark and stormy night when a town was awoken by the incessant barking of dogs and the noise of Krampus galloping over the snowy rooftops. When morning came, the folk checked their roofs and found that over several miles the large hoof prints of an upright beast had made passage. Hmm …

Here’s an interesting websites to check out if you’d like to learn more about Krampus:
www.krampus.com

So, if Krampus and good ol’ Nick came to your door, would you plead naughty or nice, and why? I’m dying to hear your comments!

Winter's Kiss

2011-11-26T10:51:00.000-08:00

Winter's Kiss

*This winters wish is to feel a kiss

a frosty light on cheek and thigh

sliding in the dusting of snow

and lust

kiss, kiss blows a blush of winter

this season couldn't get much better

when our arms are bursting warmth

and lips hot as coals

fire and ice the perfect combination

why can't it be winter all the time

sprinklings of chocolate and frosting

coat the body divine

we worship the winter

and melt in the summer time*

By Nishi

Goodbye To A Fantasy Icon

2011-11-22T14:31:00.000-08:00

1967-2011

Fantasy readers and writers have lost an icon. Anne McCaffrey your imagination lives on in your books, and may you be traveling the stars and having grand new adventures.

Turducken!

2011-11-19T17:04:00.000-08:00

Sorry all my vegetarian friends out there, but this post is not for you. Have you ever wondered what a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken would taste like? It’s the best darn carnivorous masterpiece you will ever taste in your whole lifetime! Roasty, succulent dark and white meat from the three different fowl make it the richest offering to adorn any thanksgiving feast.

I’m a huge fan of traveling cooking/eating shows, and when I lived on the west coast I watched one featuring this most exotic of savory beasts called the turducken, but never thought I would get to eat one. Low and behold, not a year later and I find myself in the south. I had long forgotten about the turducken, as life gets busy, and was completely taken by surprise when my partner brought one home for me to serve as the main treat.

Now let me tell you, it was a bit overwhelming—turduckens are huge, and heavy! Where would I find a pan worthy enough to cook it in? And how the heck do you cut it once it’s cooked? Thankfully it was pre-stuffed or I would have lobbed it at a passing car in frustration. I admit my intimidation. It glared at me, while I glared at it. Gross. But the meat would be sooooo juicy! I made my peace with the turducken as I devoured its meaty goodness.

You can too by ordering a turducken online. And here is where it came from: Hebert’s Specialty Meats (hebertsmeats.com), it’s a bit spendy but once the meat is in your mouth it’s worth every cent! And I guarantee you will be the envy of every thanksgiving family member for years to come! Make sure to scroll down to my collards post, because nothing beats a great pairing like a turducken and collard greens!

To get your turducken just right, slit the skin and rub bacon fat and butter mixed with salt and pepper under the skin on the meat, massage the yummy beast, it deserves it after the feast it will give you! I cooked it breast side down first so all the meat would be simmering in its own juices. Toward the end, I flip it back to breasts up (it takes two people to flip it) and let it get nice and crispy golden.

Eat, drink, and then pass out from the meat baby brewing in your tummy! Happy Thanksgiving!

Vampire Interview!

2011-11-12T14:08:00.000-08:00

Author Lynn Croft

Ever want to meet a vampire? Well guess what? You’re in luck; we actually have two vampires here today giving Lyn Croft the news on Halflings, demon dogs and evil queens! Enjoy …

Lyn: Hello everyone! Today I’d like to welcome two of my favorite girls in the whole wide world—Celeste and Estelle. They are the hot Vamp Twins from my book Blood and Lilies – Bloodlines. I’m so glad the two of you could join me today!

Estelle: Yeah, yeah. Can we hurry this along? We have something better to do.

Lyn: Oh. Ok… Well, I see we’re a bit moody today. May I ask why?

Celeste: We’re hungry and we were told… sadly, not to eat you. Pointless, I say.

Estelle: Nishi did say during the interview we couldn’t… but nothing about after… ;)

Lyn: Oh my... Um…Well, I’m glad the two of you are here today. I’m dying to get to know you better.

Estelle: Oh, you’ll be dying alright. Ha!

Celeste: Now sis, let’s let Lyn here do her thing. It’s not every day we get some exposure. You never know. That agent we’ve been stalking may see this interview… Don’t ruin this for me, ‘k?

Estelle: Fine, let’s be on with it.

Lyn: Ahem, ok. Well, I see you two are twins.

Estelle: Duh?

Lyn: May I ask who’s the oldest?

Celeste: Well by mortal birth, that would be me. But our rebirth—

Estelle: That’d be me! Ha-ha, I’m older now…

Lyn: How long have the two of you been vampyres?

Estelle: Longer than you’ve been alive. Next …

Celeste: Geeze! Bitch much? Lyn, don’t mind her. You know how grumpy she can get.

Lyn: Yes, yes. I know. So, you two are quite the duo in Blood and Lilies. What’s your story?

Estelle: Well, see…there’s this annoying little twit named Cara. She’s supposed to be super special or something.

Celeste: Yeah, Zillah wants her, and wants her real bad!

Lyn: Can you tell us about Zillah?

Celeste: She’s the queen B. You know, the big boss of us all. But we’re gonna show her.

Lyn: Oh, I see. So, do the two of you have a plan?

Estelle: Yeah, but that’s none of your business. Not unless you can help us get our claws dug deep into Cara’s face. She’s so overdue for a facial.

Lyn: I’m sensing some animosity towards Cara. What’s the scoop?

Celeste: She’s got these stupid creatures called Halflings watching over her. You know—the offspring of the Nephilim. They like to believe they are good, when in fact the same demon blood runs through their veins. Just like us. They are so NOT better than us.

Lyn: But they don’t drink human blood or kill humans. They’re not vampires like you. So in my world, they are better…

Estelle: Hmph, if you only knew.

Lyn: What’s that supposed to mean? Care to go into more depth?

Estelle: Not really. Are we done yet?

Lyn: Um, no. So…Vampires, Nephilim, and Halflings— what else is there that I should know about?

Celeste: Oh! Don’t forget about the Demon Dogs! Best to stay away from those things, they’re big, and not very cuddly.

Lyn: Yeah, well you don’t seem so cuddly yourself.

Celeste: Excuse me?

Lyn: Never mind…So, do you know why the Halflings are protecting Cara? From what I hear, they’ve given you a pretty good run around so far.

Estelle: Does it matter? All I know is that girl is my next meal. Well, okay … maybe after you being my next meal. But she’s toast.

Celeste: Sis, you know they aint gonna let us anywhere near her. And Zillah said—

Estelle: Shut up! God, I can’t take you anywhere.

Lyn: What did Zillah say?

Estelle: None of your business, mortal. Next!

Lyn: Well. I can see I’m gaining great distance with the two of you. This is so much fun.

Celeste: Sorry, Lyn. Hunger, remember? We’ve been gunning for Cara, but no luck so far. Besides getting our butts beat pretty good.

Lyn: Understandable. So, what is it you’re going to do with her? Well… besides have her over for “dinner”.

Celeste: Well, legend has it that she carries some special bloodline. Like her dad was a high level angel or something. I think it gives demons super immortality or something. We plan to get her first and find out. Then we can be the queen B’s, if you know what I mean… ;)

Estelle: Dude! Shut up. Why do you always have to give away too much? Can you seriously please plug up that air leak in your head? It’s called your mouth!

Celeste: Whatever. Like she doesn’t already know! Duh!

Estelle: Yeah, but hello??? What about the others who don’t. You so don’t understand being secretive. Do you?

Lyn: Ahem, ok you too. Well, before tempers flare any further, can I just say what an honor it is to finally meet you in person? You too are exactly the way I imagined, except maybe even more stunning in person.

Estelle: Yep. We know. Are you done now with your “questions”?

Lyn: Well, I guess I can be... Did you have anything else to add?

Celeste & Estelle: Nah, except that it’s dinner time!

Lyn: Crap! Good thing I have those Halflings on standby… Eamon! Seamus! Shannon! It’s time!

Celeste & Estelle: Oh…. Not good…

Look for Blood and Lilies – Bloodlines by Lyn Croft, March 30, 2012.
Print and EBook available via Hellfire Publishing: http://www.hellfirepublishing.com

And Find Lyn Here:

https://www.facebook.com/?sk=lf#!/profile.php?id=100002386426181
http://lyncroft.blog.com
www.outerealmhorror.blogspot.com

Blood and Lilies—Bloodlines excerpt:

Cara closed her eyes and started to pray silently to God, asking for rescue and for lighting to strike these two demons back into hell. Let them burn for eternity for all the evil they had caused, and all the evil that they were! She could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she prayed harder. The knocking on the door continued making her heart flutter a million miles a minute. She had brought them through her dream and damn, she was really scared.

She held silent, like a mouse in a dark hole, as she listened to the two of them continue to taunt her through the door. Then she could hear them twisting the door knob as they pushed to gain entry. The door was locked, thank God. But she knew it wouldn’t hold on. She turned to the window getting on her knees as she unlocked it as quietly as she could.

The door rattled louder as the banging grew stronger. They were irritated now, like two little children ready to throw a tantrum, barking and whining through the door. Cara could feel it in her bones as well as hear them behind her. She wondered how long the door could keep. Were they toying with her? Couldn’t they tear it off the hinges with one arm? She kept waiting for the door to fly open any second, the two of them taking her and killing her instantly. That’s if they had any mercy; which she knew they didn’t. They would torture her and love every bloody second of it.

More footsteps came from down the hall and a voice calling to the twins asking what they were doing. It was muffled, but Cara was able to make the words out. She heard laughter and hissing in reply, and then a couple of thuds in the hallway.

Oh God!

Cara prayed it wasn’t someone she knew, but also that she had to take this moment to make her move. She had been granted a momentary distraction, and needed to use it before it was taken from her. She jumped from the window, so thankful now she was on the bottom floor, but wishing she had time to put sneakers on her sock covered feet. It stung instantly, the icy ground beneath her toes, nipping as she crouched.

The cold air surrounded her as she hit the ground, her t-shirt no match for the dead of the winter’s night. Luckily she had sweats to help, but the instant chill raked at her body, sending chills through every muscle inside of her. She tried to ignore the pain and focus on her escape. Adrenaline pumped through her, awakening her as she gained her composure and searched her surroundings. She booked, charging as fast as she could around the corner of the dorms to the parking lot, trying desperately to remember where Kelsey had parked her car. Her feet slapped against the icy pavement, sending shockwaves of pain as she ran, but she couldn’t stop. Not for a second. If she did; she truly stood no chance.

She saw her little blue Chevy cavalier parked nearby and ran to it, stumbling and slipping along the way. She almost made it, till she tripped and went flying head first towards the car. She put her hands in front of her to catch her fall, but failed; shredding her delicate palms as she went tumbling over anyway.

She looked down at them seeing the blood on the ground from where they hit. Not good! Vamps smelling her blood when it was inside her while it was still pumping under her skin was one thing. Now she was leading them right to her. Plus it hurt like a son of a b….

Dazed, she pulled herself up and made her way to the drivers’ side, searching under the car for her spare key. Her sore hands hit the small metal box holding her escape and dropped to the ground. She picked it up, all the while her eyes searching the parking lot, waiting for the twins to appear suddenly in front of her. Fumbling with the box, trying to open it and get the key out, she managed to drop it as it flipped back under the car. Irritated, she crouched again, and found the box under within reach. Grateful, she reached for the box with ease and smashed the stupid plastic shell against the ground, wincing as shards of pain shot through her hands and up her arms.

Still shaking, she flipped the top open and grabbed the key, dropping the blood smeared box in front of her. She jammed the key into the door and turned it. It gave way with a little force and Cara opened the door and jumped in. Starting the car, she kept praying; hoping it wouldn’t stall. She found the engine choked for just a second, but then the motor purred for her.

“Thank you God!” she cried as she threw it into reverse and backed out of the parking space. She lurched it into drive and peeled out of the driveway like a bat out of hell, while she watched in the rear view for the twins to be after her. She didn’t see them behind her and began to wonder why. She thought for sure they would have had her by now. Not like she was ever so graceful in her getaway.

She looked at the steering wheel in front of her and saw a mixture of gravel and blood sticking to it. Her hands and arms were cut pretty bad and she was leaving a trail on everything she touched. The burn was still creeping through her skin as the air continued to nip at her wounds. Cara hissed in pain, as she turned the steering wheel, blood streaking along the leather.

She looked back at the road and tried to figure out where she was going to go. She couldn’t go back. Not now anyways. The lack of sunlight made her nights so dangerous, she couldn’t think of anywhere to go. The only direction she could think was to go up. Up the mountain, only hoping she could remember where he lived. She looked down at her gas gage to see if she could make the trip, finding she was already almost on empty. Cara cursed internally at herself for not filling up earlier today when she told herself too.

“Ugh!” she screamed, with only the dark lonely road ahead to listen to her. She pounded her palm the steering wheel in frustration; quickly regretting it as the pain shot up through her soiled hands. Tears started flowing heavily, as she looked in the rear view mirror still expecting to see the twins chasing her.

Veterans Day

2011-11-11T07:34:00.000-08:00

To all the Veterans who have served and lived, and those who are now traveling the stars, I give my thanks for your sacrifice to keep your families safe.

Tasty Collards and Tuaca!

2011-11-10T10:44:00.000-08:00

Ahh … It’s finally getting cooler here in Louisiana. Nice weather comes and goes too quickly, I cherish each chilly day I have. It’s a good thing the cold days arrive around the holidays—all that food I get to walk off!

Thought I’d start sharing some of those recipes I promised! The first is a southern staple and tasty too:

Collard Greens

You will need a pound of bacon, chopped and fried to where it is just slightly under-crispy, set aside. Save some of the bacon grease (about 2 tablespoons) to add to the collard pot.

(if you are making a turkey, save the rest of your bacon grease for that!)

Clean and de-stem as much collard greens as you can fit into a large pot (the greens shrink down to more than half their size).

Chop half an onion.

In the large pot add your bacon grease, cooked bacon, chopped onion, garlic, salt and pepper, chipotle Tabasco, and about ¼ a tsp of crushed red peppers, and cook for about 10 minutes.

Now add: about ½ cup rice vinegar, 1 tablespoon brown sugar, and about ½ a cup of beef broth.

Cook this all until the collard greens are dark green and look like cooked spinach. At that point you can start adding more of any of the ingredients you want until you get the taste you desire.

Sometimes, I add sausage to my collard greens too. Enjoy!

Tuaca Sidecar

In a shaker with ice add the following:

1 ½ ounces of Tuaca (Italian liqueur)

¾ ounces Triple Sec

1 Fresh squeezed orange and half a lemon.

Add sugar or honey to sweeten to your liking.

Mix and strain into a sugar rimmed glass.

November Kisses

2011-11-03T08:38:00.000-07:00

Winter is a busy time for me. It is the time I’m most creative, and as such, I tend to work harder on my writing. This year I’m a bit far from home and won’t get to share the holidays with family, but I will be sure to share a few of my favorite Thanksgiving recipes with all my cyber friends/family.

A few posts to get excited about this month will be from two authors who are working hard at bringing everyone fantastic stories of love, thrills, and the supernatural, but more about that later!

Another note of interest is one of my publisher’s—Decadent Publishing—is opening a new site for ‘sweet romance’ and YA. If you have a novel you’ve been dying to submit, then get over there and send them your query, they are a fun bunch of good peoples to work with.

Here’s a little something to enjoy until the next post:

Pumpkin Pie Martini Recipe (One of my favorite November cocktails!):

First make the mixture you will coat the rim of your martini glass with: graham crackers, cinnamon, and brown sugar—put in a food processor and grind it to a fine mix. Use a lemon to ring the glass then dip your glass in the mixture, set aside.

In a shaker with ice add:

1 ½ ounce goldschlager

½ ounce bailey’s irish cream

½ ounce coffee liqueur

½ ounce half and half cream

Shake and strain into martini glass, add a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg and serve—yummy!

And, a nice poem to read to your lover, friend, or family:

The True Gem

In the waters of time we find peace

In the weathering of the sky we find contemplation

In the landscape of the earth we find new roads

In the by-ways of the mind we find new journeys

But, in the complexity of the heart we find the true jewel, love.

Staying Scared With Scopel!

2011-10-27T08:22:00.000-07:00

October, the leaves are falling off the trees, flickering grins wink at us from pumpkins, candy abundantly appears in bags held by costumed children, and Thomas Scopel scares the crap out of us unwary readers.

If you’re one of those people who are afraid of evil clowns, then you’ll want to wear a diaper when Mr. Scopel is in your hands or on your screen. But seriously, underneath the bloody, grimy, creepy makeup, Thomas is a sweet heart—I promise (he only bites on the full moon). I saved Mr. Scopel’s interview especially for Halloween time, because most of all, I truly enjoyed reading his short story ‘Twitch’, not to mention all the other amazing short stories and entertaining blog posts he writes. And don’t miss this cleverly horrific creative author’s new webcast: Wee Willie Wicked!

NS: *SCREAM* Oh, it’s just you Thomas—you scared the heck out of me! Now that you’ve snuck up on me, why don’t you tell everyone out there who you are, and give us some links to your sites and webcast.

TS: Well, there’s my main website http://www.thomasscopel.com. Then there are two blogs that I write on. Http://stayingscared.blogspot.com is what I like to consider my official blog, while http://weewilliewicked.blogspot.com is my evil clown alter ego’s blog. On a whim I started the webcast and tried on both Ustream, as well as Livestream, but found both to be a bit slow. And, while we’re on the webcast subject, I am regretful to say that due to recent changes in employment, time constraints have reared their ugly heads forcing me to limit some of my horror endeavors. It was a matter of selecting one or the other, and since I’ll never eliminate writing, the next in line was the webcast. I hated to do this, but there are some things more important like food and shelter. Although, and at this point I can’t say for sure or exactly when, but I suspect that this webcast will continue. In the meantime, time permitting, I’m occasionally creating little creepy videos featuring Wee Willie Wicked and posting them at various places.

NS: One of my favorite things to learn about authors is what they were like as children. So, what sort of a horrible munchkin were you? And what were your hobbies back then?

TS: I grew up in the shadows of Pittsburgh’s Chiller Theater. This was a Saturday night staple featuring Chilly Billy Bill Cardille (the newscaster in the movie Night of the Living Dead) that I began watching at a very early age. Every Saturday night from 11:30 pm until 3:00 am I could be religiously found glued to the television watching. Sometimes I made it through both films and sometimes I didn’t. This show is what I primarily contribute to starting me on the road to horror. I also read voraciously too, and am a huge fan of horror magazines and comics. There was a massive Oak tree in our front yard that I had climbed and wedged an old chair seat from one of those single piece school desks into a couple of branches. This is where I did a majority of my reading. Comfortably perched high and hidden by the foliage. With the exception of an occasional car passing by, it was serene and secluded, a perfect reading spot. This is where I found the likes of Poe, Lovecraft, King, Stoker, Serling and so many others.

As far as hobbies were concerned, besides reading and film, I built the old Aurora monster models and had them scattered around my room. I also had a fair amount of horror type ceramics too. When I hit my early teen years, I found special effects, masks and such, to be quite interesting. I suppose that’s where Wee Willie Wicked stems from.

NS: Everyone has someone who influenced them. Who or what influenced you to be truly passionate about horror?

TS: I guess Chilly Billy would be considered my most influential. Even though he never wrote horror, he certainly introduced me to it. Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee from the old Hammer films had a lot to do with this too. As far as writers’ are concerned, I’ve admired and enjoyed many, but don’t truly have a favorite. I really enjoy horror anthologies filled with established and the up and comers.

NS: So, I have to know, will there be a companion story to Twitch? And what other haunted goodies do you have in store for us?

TS: I’ve been asked this a number of times and yes, there is another Twitch tale in me. When? I can’t say other than I’ve jotted a few things down and it will be his chronological middle story. I’m working on fleshing it out, research and with how to make it a standalone. I may take the novella and rearrange it, include the middle tale and make it a novel. But, I’m not sure yet and would like to finish a few other things first.

Otherwise, I’m working on a horror / sci-fi type novel called Future Past. It is a story about a company that you can go to in order to see what could have happened had you taken a different route in life. But, you can’t change it and this has various repercussions for the characters.

Besides that, I have a number of short pieces (A Lawnly Existence, The Sidewalk Ends, Legacy, Dreamented, Rudely Yours and more) in various stages.

Most recent publishing includes The Pumpkin Patch (NorGus Press’s Look What I Found anthology) and The Christmas Help will be in the Open Casket Press (an imprint of Living Dead Press) Dead Christmas anthology slated for release in December.

NS: In the future, when you have a story that will appear on the big screen, which producer/director do you most wish to work with?

TS: I’ve never given this much thought and actually never considered one of my tales for the big screen. But, now that you’ve mentioned it and planted the seed, if it ever happens, Rob Zombie would probably be my first choice. And, I might add that if this were to occur, I would like to follow the Stephen King route and play a very small role too.

NS: I’ve heard rumors and want to clarify—were you really chased away from a carnival by an angry mob with torches and pitch forks?

TS: I guess my clown outfit wasn’t appreciated heh heh.

NS: What is your costume for this Halloween? And where in the world will you be materializing during October?

TS: A lot of people hate clowns and since I am to frighten, I’ll most certainly be Wee Willie Wicked. However, his brother Jack (a jester who is just as wicked) may also show up on a doorstep somewhere. And, there is a little film in the works that includes both. Mwhahahahahahahaha!

NS: Any bloody bits to impart on the readers (quick, everyone don your raincoats—he took that literally—WATCH OUT!)?

TS: The dull crack of the cleaver gashing into and through her skull bone was music to his ears. Somewhat disappointed the scream didn’t last as long as he had hoped for, the warm blood spraying across his face made up for it. And the taste was oh so sweet…

Wow, you are one freaky author Thomas, and I’m super excited you stopped by for the interview. Many, many spine-chilling thanks! Happy Halloween Everyone!!!

Find Thomas Scopel here:

http://www.thomasscopel.com

http://stayingscared.blogspot.com

http://weewilliewicked.blogspot.com

-----

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale of Love, Part 6: The Final Chapter!

2011-10-18T09:57:00.000-07:00

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale of Love, Part 6 Baked Goodies

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 off 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 bitter wind was blowing, canceling out a row across the lake to the island, dampening William’s plan.
     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.
     “Perhaps …”
     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.

* * * * *

The Hunter’s Moon watched over the party of two horses tracking fowl through the forest. Maira rode in front of William, because he meant to give her a fair shot at the prey, while he took one of his own—at her back!
     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.

* * * * *

Spring … flowers burst open spilling their fragrance, people skipped about happy and horny, and on the island, Maira’s apples came early. But inside William’s head it was winter, dark, abysmal, and permeated with fury. Just like her devilish bird, Augden, Maira’s supernatural luck kept her from all his attempts at taking her life. And, she seemed innocently unaware of every one of his diabolical undertakings.
     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.

* * * * *

Drenched in the puddings of William’s gore, Maira hummed a cheery tune and set about creating her art. Augden watched from a nearby bush as he cleaned his beak and feathers, the knight had made for a delectable lunch.
     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?”

The End

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.

Women In Horror: Crimson Stained Lace

2011-10-12T13:03:00.000-07:00

Lisa Coffelt {director}
Crimson Stained Lace Productions
www.crimsonstainedlace.com

It gladdens my heart when I come across women supporting women in horror, and one such person is Lisa Coffelt and her production company ‘Crimson Stained Lace’.

If you visit the CSL site you will see they are busy at work on projects ranging from a horror benefit cookbook, to their newest scream-a-licious films. Media today makes it possible for great indie production companies to empower all walks of life, and it only takes a little interest and love from us dedicated horror fans to keep them thriving—so, check out CSL and show them some props!

NS: To start, why don’t you introduce yourself and tell us a little about your history, like where you grew up, and what inspired your passion for horror.

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.

Cheers!

Scavenger Hunt Winners!

2011-10-06T10:02:00.000-07:00

The Hauntingly Erotic Scavenger Hunt Has Ended!

The Two Lucky Winners Are:

Jean P

Dyllan Lira

Thank you everyone for participating, we greatly appreciate it! And a big props to the lovely authors who donated their time and ebooks. Big Hugs to Bookie Nookie of the goodreads group Erotic Enchants for all her suggestions and hosting a successful giveaway!

Cheers! ... Nishi

The Participating Authors Are:

Nishi Serrano

http://www.facebook.com/#!/NishiJean

DL Jackson

http://authordljackson.com
http://backwardmomentum.blogspot.com
http://para-fanatics.blogspot.com

Jenna Jaxon:
http://www.jennajaxon.wordpress.com

Stephanie Beck:

www.stephaniebeck.net
www.facebook.com/StephanieBeckAuthor

And the participating Goodreads group is: Erotic Enchants

http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/2344.Erotic_Enchants
http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/1488662-i-bookie-nookie
http://bookienookiereviews.blogspot.com/p/hauntingly-erotic-scavenger-hunt.html?zx=54787c8ff81ffe8b

About The Authors:

D.L. Jackson:

D. L. Jackson is a writer of urban fantasy, science fiction, military romance and erotic romance. She loves to incorporate crazy plot twists, comedy and the unexpected into her worlds. As a U.S. Army veteran, she naturally adores men in uniform and feels the world could always use more. She does her part by incorporating as many sexy soldiers in her novels as she can. When she isn't writing or running the roads, you can often find her online chatting with her peers and readers. Grab a cup of iced coffee, pull up your virtual chair and say hi. She loves emails and blog visits from her readers. http://www.authordljackson.com

Other places to find D.L. Jackson:

http://backwardmomentum.blogspot.com
http://para-fanatics.blogspot.com

Stephanie Beck:

Stephanie Beck is a full time mom, part time writer and ameture speller.

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.

Other Places to Find Stephanie Beck:

www.stephaniebeck.net
www.facebook.com/StephanieBeckAuthor

Jenna Jaxon:

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?

Available from: New Dawning Bookfair

Blurb for Almost Perfect:

Pamela Kimball’s birthday present, a 1Night Stand adventure, is supposed to help her jump-start her life, put a new man in her bed, and help her forget her ex. Unfortunately, movie-buff Pam’s Pirates of the Caribbean fantasy goes wrong when she’s abandoned on a not quite deserted island with ex-husband Roger Ware. When Pam is forced to accept Roger’s offer of dinner, she recognizes that he’s changed since their divorce and his newfound sensuality re-kindles an old fire. When he challenges her to find out how much his amorous skills have improved, Pam is torn between self-preservation and desire. With time running out before they’re rescued, Pam has to decide if her heart can survive the consequences of becoming Roger’s “almost” perfect 1Night Stand. Coming in November from Decadent Publishing: http://www.decadentpublishng.com

Other Places to Find Jenna Jaxon:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jenna-Jaxon/146857578723570?sk=wall

http://www.jennajaxon.wordpress.com

Nishi Serrano:

http://www.decadentpublishing.com

Nishi is busy at work on new projects ranging from a M/M horror anthology to a YA dark fantasy novel. Here current work is published through Decadent Publishing and Hellfire Publishing.

Azalea’s Of a Unique Sort

2011-09-29T11:03:00.000-07:00

Chloe Schwanz is a talented jewelry designer located in the mysterious land of Louisiana, and I’m pleased to say she recently designed a special piece for me to show off proudly. Chloe and her husband are both artistically gifted. Her husband is an architect who won the very first Zombie Safe House Competition (check out the facebook page!). Chloe is quick as a whip with her wit, and fun to work with. Her wearable art can be found at Azalea St Studio on etsy: http://www.etsy.com/shop/azaleaststudio?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=App_Seller&utm_content=shops&utm_campaign=fb_seller_shop2
Her work utilizes leathers, natural rocks, found treasures, and has an earthy-yet-modernistic style, and is definitely uniquely Chloe:

NS: Chloe, why don’t you tell us a little about your past, like where you grew up, what your hobbies were as a kid, and what type of jewelry you wore as a teenager?

CS: Well, I grew up in the teeny tiny rural town of Sunset, LA—making mud pies, tending to hoards of animals, composting, gardening, and overall good ole country fun! When I reached high school, I longed for that city-girl feel! We wore uniforms to school, so I took every opportunity to differentiate myself from the masses. I was known to wear sport accessories you didn't normally see on a teenager, things I'd inherited from my mom or grandmother. Really funky stuff! I moved to Lafayette when I began college in 2002

NS: When did you decide to start making Jewelry?

CS: Jewelry making all started when I began studying architecture at the University of Louisiana. I just hated to throw away all the scraps of various materials I used in my design classes. In an effort to be efficient and create less waste, I fashioned pieces of stained and painted wood into earrings, sold them, and have been growing as a jewelry maker ever since!

NS: Who is your biggest inspiration for making wearable art?

CS: Geez, I'm not sure! I suppose I could credit every environmentally-conscious voice out there that seeped in over the years stirred in with all those times I saw something clever and said, "Hey, I can do that!"

NS: Who is your favorite jewelry designer?

CS: Another hard one! I have a few Etsians (Etsy artisans) that I just love seeing new work from!—such as SSD jewelry, Neile, and Kikisan—just to name a few. Also, I will turn the pages of a Sundance Jewelry catalog until they turn to dust! The artisans that are lucky enough to grace said pages certainly deserve it.

NS: If you could own any piece of jewelry in the world, which would it be, and why?

CS: As a huge fan of the ancient, antique and vintage (it is a form of recycling!) I would cherish and make an alter around a Victorian Chatelaine—a woman's wearable tool kit, if you will. These pieces represent everything I'd want to achieve as a craftsperson: ultimate aesthetic appeal and perfect functionality.

NS: If you could design a piece of your art for any superstar to flaunt, who would it be, and why?

CS: Just a few that came to mind: Sienna Miller, Kate Hudson, and Zoey Dechanel. I think each of these lovely ladies have a history of sporting some eclectic pieces. They are very current and 'in the know' when it comes to fashion, but aren't afraid of taking chances. I also think that these women each pay tribute to fashion's past and those are some things I try to convey in my pieces. I'd love to find a place in their jewelry boxes!

NS: So, I hear your moving to New Orleans? Where can the fine citizens of Louisiana find you displaying your crafty wares?

CS: I'm always near at azaleaststudio.etsy.com. As an artisan, I'm kind of like a gypsy when it comes to a physical locale! 'Like' azalea st studio on Facebook to find out where I'm squatting next!

Also, I've begun the very fun venture of giving jewelry fans the opportunity of hosting jewelry parties! As a host, you'll get 20% of the total sales in free jewelry a la azalea st studio! Anyone interested can send me a message via my etsy shop for questions and details.

NS: Any last tips for making jewelry or tidbits you’d like to share with my awesome blog followers?

CS: Always go with what feels true to you, whether it's creating original pieces of art or your next outfit. If you force it, it will look forced and you won't feel 100% you!

Chloe, you know how to wrap the rock! I hope all you amazing readers out there support local artists, and take the time to explore Chloe’s sparkling flair. Cheers …!

Annie M. Vicar: Dolls & Skellery and Fantastic Delights!

2011-09-07T09:35:00.000-07:00

http://anniemvicar.webs.com

There is something I have to admit. I’m deathly afraid of most dolls, especially baby dolls—yuck! Destination Truth is one of my favorite television shows, and on a certain episode, Josh Gates (the host of DT) travels to Mexico’s Doll Island to do a bit of ghost hunting. Being a die-hard fan, I didn’t want to miss a single moment, even though I was petrified. My hands were sweating and I turned hot then cold and was shaking. Seriously, I do not like dolls.

Then something magical happened. I came across the Dolls & Skellery work of Annie M. Vicar. These were dolls I could handle, some of the most curious and marvelous creations I have ever allowed my eyes to alight upon—without breaking a sweat. The detail of Annie’s work goes beyond the doll itself, like, Siamese Cat Yokai with its tiny Japanese sandals and miniature sushi platter. Not to mention the mysterious boxes, adorable custom cake toppers, and darkly hip jewelry she designs. Visiting her site is like trick-or-treating for mind-candy.

NS: Your work borders on the gothic (but much, much more than that), so I have to ask what you were like as a child, because I can picture all sorts of cool stuff you might have been into!

AMV: In all honesty, not much has changed. I'm still that oddball little kid. I was (and generally still am) happy to live inside of my own head, daydreaming stories and building my own fantasy land out of anything in arm's reach. It was kind of difficult for me to connect with other kids - I was too weird and too awkward to ever fit in, so I just kind of locked myself in my room with clay, paper, markers, my dad's old Beatles records and comic books. I would play in the back yard for hours alone, pretending to be a witch, and pick all of the "poison berries" off of the neighbors' hedges, dig up dirt and tare leaves off of the trees to make "spells". I was Halloween obsessed and ghost obsessed - thanks to my father, who would scare the holy bejesus out of me by telling family ghost stories.

NS: Were you into monster movies? What type of books did you read, and did the movies/books help to influence your current art? If not, then what did inspire you?

AMV: Oh yeah, I love the classic Monster flicks!! I'd say the Universal Monster films have left a HUGE imprint on everything I do, being as they were my first introduction to the horror genre and something I always relate to Halloween. Other movies? Well, things like Never Ending Story, Dark Crystal, The Exorcist, Beetlejuice, Rosemary's Baby, Return to Oz etc. A healthy (or unhealthy, whichever way one may view it, I s'pose) of fantasy and horror. There are also a few Czech animators, like Jiri Barta and Jan Svankmajer, who have been my biggest influence for doll making, specifically. Really, the dolls came about through failed marionette designs I was working on some years back. Eastern European puppetry is something that's fascinated me since I was a kid. Books?? I've always loved comic books most of all. Started out reading Tales From The Crypt reprints (EC horror in general) and then got into things like Sandman and Preacher when I was in high school. When my attention span matured a bit, I started reading Anthony Burgess & Dostoevsky, to name a few favorites.

NS: How did you get to the point where you decided to start your own business making dolls and skellery?

AMV: It seemed like a no-brainer when the opportunity presented itself. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I'm the worst employee of all-time when it comes to grown-up day jobs. I've never really played well with others in those situations and I've never taken authority seriously. Basically, any time I've felt that something or someone has taken me away from creative projects, they were in my way. I know that all sounds terrible, but the way my brain is wired, I just really start to resent any situation that takes me away from fantasy. I had no other choice than to be my own boss, doing the only thing I'm comfortable with. Hell, I have trouble figuring out a cash register. It's kind of sad. haha. This is the only way I can really function in the world.

NS: Besides your own creations, do you admire any other doll makers?

AMV: Most definitely! There are some incredible artists out there. And more than just doll makers, too. As for dolls, LaTeefah Dolls is my favorite:
( http://www.etsy.com/shop/laTeefahDoLLs1898?ref=seller_info). Bizarre, kind of Victorian Erotic creations that just blow me away. She works in ceramics, fabrics and fur. Illustration wise, I love Christine Ernst from Crows Feet Studios(http://www.crowsfeetstudios.com/), Rachael Deacon, illustrator and filmmaker (http://www.gonzoriffic.com/uncategorized/watch-this-now-a-fever-and-a-river), and Jeremy Baum (http://madbaumer37.deviantart.com/) - all under the radar, quite amazing and worth a look.

NS: If you were hired to have your talents used on the big screen, what Producer/Director would you most want to work with?

AMV: Werner Herzog! I know, he has nothing to do with puppets or animation, but HE SHOULD! I'd love to animate a puppet version of the film "The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser".

NS: Say a famous person contacted you to make a piece of art/jewelry for them, who would that famous person be, and what type of piece would you make for them?

AMV: Hmmm. That's a question! Well, if Werner Herzog wanted a Kaspar Hauser puppet....

NS: When you’re not creating fantastic art, what are you usually up to?

AMV: I like to star gaze in the mountains or spend my Sundays at the shore. Just being out in nature and enjoying what I can of the world while I'm here. When I decided to throw conventional living out the window with my day job and moved across the country, I promised myself to love life a little more and actively pursue happiness instead of waiting for it to fall in my lap. It's been good :)

NS: Are there any parting tid-bits of information you would like to impart upon the fabulously awesome readers out there?

AMV: There is a way to do what you love. There's a way to be happy. Find it.

Annie, you are number one on my list of amazing artists, and you are an inspiration for all of the artists out there who are intent on following their dreams and artistic inclinations.

Please visit Annie M. Vicar at the following sites:
https://www.facebook.com/anniemvicardollsandskellery
http://anniemvicar.webs.com/
http://www.etsy.com/shop/AnnieVicar?ref=si_shop

"The only thing standing between me and greatness is me."

-Woody Allen

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale of Love, part 5

2011-08-22T15:34:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, part 5 is long overdue, and I apologize, but the wait is worth the spoils. If you want to re-cap click here: http:www.nishiserrano.blogspot.com/2011/05/chimera-dark-fairytale-of-love.html

Happy readings!

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale of Love

Part 5 Not So Knightly

It took some convincing, but eventually Maira agreed to move with William to his home where they would wed. Her only demand was they move near a lake, so she could transport her precious island and orchard. How she proposed to relocate an entire isle confounded William. Maira assured him construction would all be taken care of, without the need of it bothering his pretty head.

His other concern—that of her fortune—would have to be moved securely, and he was going to make sure he was there to see its removal. Only, as they made preparations to leave the isle without any treasure chests, Maira again batted away his questions and would not speak of how or where her fortune would arrive at Court. Because of this, William knew Maira had someone working for her, keeping her wealth in check and accounted for nowhere near the clump of water locked land. He was ready to spiral out of control with anger. His hands ached to grip his knife as it scraped across her slender neck. As soon as they were bound to marriage, he would send spies to find her associate.

Unaware of her husband’s treacherous intentions, Maira was too happy for words. True love took many years to come by, and it was the only thing she desired most. William’s family and Court were instantly smitten by his choice of bride, and accepted her beauty with open arms. This was the first time Maira let anyone lure her from her island, but she didn’t worry much. Her new island would be just as secreted and cozy. In fact, unbeknownst to her new husband, the island was already in place.

At their mansion reposing on the banks of a loch, William leaned against a widow frame as he gazed out at the hazy dusk of the waters. He wondered why he didn’t remember the ghostly island peeking through the mists on his visit in procuring the estate.

“Maira my dearest, how did you know there was already an island on the loch?” William asked as he turned from the widow.

“Why ever should I know? You picked our location my love. And it’s the most splendid palace a lady could wish for. My orchards will be quite at home,” Maira said as she placed aside her stitching to stand beside her husband.

“And what of Augden, the damnable bird hasn’t shown itself since we arrived.”

“Augden is upset with the move and wedding. But I assure you, he is even now making a nest out there,” Maira waved towards the isle. William rolled his eyes, better the bird stay away. He swore the bird was possessed, always watching him from its upturned beak. Poisoning, arrows, and even trapping the beast proved impossible. He even tried sneaking up on the creature and succeeded in getting a bag over its eyes. But before he could stab it, it promptly had its revenge by shatting all over his face. A horrid, stinking offal William would never forget the smell of in all his life. After that, he left it alone. It didn’t seem to be capable of relaying any messages to Maira about his extracurricular activities snooping around her island.

“Now we are entwined, do you not think it my right to inquire of your assets?” William hedged. “After all, I’m the king of this humble castle, and should be providing for you.”

“Nonsense, I have everything you desire my knight-in-shining-armor. My wealth is yours, as is youth and the promise of a saucy love life! What more could be provided?”

“Yes, dearest,” he said tangling his arms around her slender waist. “However, if I do not know the amount of your wealth, how can I be certain it will last our lifetime? Wouldn’t you rather me be prepared to afford we continue this lifestyle in the event of an emergency, like, your coffers depleting?”

Maira laughed. If he only knew her secrets, which she hoped he never would. She did so adore this particular husband, what a shame if he broke his pledge. Why were men so obsessively worried about prosperity? Couldn’t he just relax and worship her for her gorgeousness? She was every man’s desire, wasn’t that enough? This line of questioning was making her uncomfortable. “No more interrogations,” Maira smiled. “I have wealth and beauty enough for three life-times over, I assure you.”

All was going splendidly for Maira, until the second summer of her marriage. Her apple orchard was brimming with life. Her and William would venture out on a boat and have a charming picnic whenever the weather was permissible. He never touched her apples. But, someone else did.

***

Maira sat at her mirrorless vanity as a handmaid brushed strands of her golden flax. She wasn’t paying much attention to the girl, who had a penchant for talking, mostly of gossip. On most days she let the handmaid ramble. It was a good source of news she might not otherwise have heard about. This particular day, the girl made mention of the stable boy and one of the serving girls taking the row boat out onto the lake. They were keen on each other, and thought it a good place to hide from prying eyes. Maira questioned if they had landed on her island, but the handmaid denied any knowledge of trespass. A worrisome thought passed over Maira’s eyes, and was quickly left behind when William entered the room dismissing the maid and showering her with kisses. It wasn’t until supper time when the bothersome notion made itself manifest.

At a table set with a feast fit for a kingdom, Maira sat with William and his favorite Aunt and Uncle who were visiting from elsewhere in the countryside. A scream jumped everyone in their seats followed by the racket of a crashing platter and liquid splashing against the floor. All turned in the direction of the serving girl, whose eyes were bugged and shaking hand pointed a finger directly at Maira. The serving girl continued gasping, unable in her terror to clearly speak the words stuttering from her mouth.

Maira stood, anger suffusing her cheeks. “Get her out of here, now!”

Everyone’s shock seemed to suspend the scene long enough for the serving girl to exclaim ‘Monster!’ before she was whisked away from sight. There was much apologizing as the servants scrambled to right the scene. The Aunt and Uncle waved the outburst aside, and William declared the help nuttier than a squirrel’s cheeks. But Maira sat fuming, and had noticeably lost her appetite.

***

“Come now my love,” William said as he held Maira, “Surely the girl is insane. Why do you let it bother you?” They lay together on a plump bed, and at his words Maira pushed away and pouted.

“She is a foul girl to make such a statement! One cannot help nature’s curses. Tell me you will let her go immediately.” Tears suffused Maira’s eyes.

William laughed. “What curses? You are a goddess, my love. This is the first outburst by the girl, likely the vapors or something.”

“I demand her gone!” Maira shouted.

William shook his head offering placation. “Very well, it is done.” William thought Maira over reacting, but if he sought to keep her ultimate trust, he did as she was want. “Tomorrow I will take you to the island, where we can relax away from the eyes of our household.” Maira smiled at the suggestion and allowed him to once again wrap his arms around her.

***

Lounging in the sundrenched grove, Maira and William listened to the chirping birds and whispering leaves. Vexing thoughts still clung to the princess’ mind, but she hid them away from William. He was disturbed no less than she.

It had been an entire year of sending out the finest of the kingdom’s spies, rogues, and trackers, yet none returned with news of Maira’s associate. Her wealth was a complete and unsolvable mystery. It would take a miracle for William to unlock her secrets, for he was at a dead end, and the wrath it filled within him grew stronger every day. Moreover, the itch to kill was driving him mad, no amount of game hunting could satisfy that particular need. And frankly, he tired of playing the doting husband.

As it happened, William’s miracle arrived in the orchard to interrupt their uneasy rest.

From the shadows of the grove two figures emerged. Both held bows aiming at William and Maira’s hearts. It was the serving girl and the stable boy.

The serving girl’s hands slightly trembled, causing her bow to quiver, as did her voice. “You see James, she is as I spoke! Do you believe me now?”

When he glanced to Maira, it was as if the boy were seeing a specter, his face was drained of blood, and horror was close to overriding his sanity. “It is true!” William went to move, but the boy tightened his string indicating he meant to surely loose his arrow. “Do not move Sir or I will shoot to kill, and as you know, I am an excellent mark.”

William raised his palms in submission. “What is the meaning of this intrusion James?”

James’s eyes darted to the serving girl who inclined her head to Maira, “Your wife Sir, she is not as she appears!”

“Girl, explain your accusations.” William, who had taken an upright position upon seeing the arrowed couple, dropped his hands near his feet and stealthily removed a dagger from one boot.

Shaken beyond any human reason, the girl shouted the same words from the dining hall, “She is a monster—a demon in disguise sent to breed plague and death!”

Maira stayed motionless. Would she be capable of saving William from these ignorant lovers? It was imperative she keep her cool, despite the desire to tear the serving girl’s heart out.

William looked over to Maira, who eyed him quizzically back. “James, if you are angry about Maira dismissing your woman from the house, this is not the way to handle the situation. If you kill either of us, you will be hunted down and hanged, it is the law.”

“You do not see it Sir, she has bewitched you! Our eyes are pure and blessed by God, they show us the truth. Your wife has been sent by the devil himself—”

Maira cut in, “This is nonsense William, a woman’s scorn!”

Damnable peasants were always meddling in superstitious twaddle. William was beyond understanding what madness seized the couple. Though, the present circumstances were a boon to his needs, twofold. If he saved his beloved wife, she would deny him nothing, and yes, oh yes, slay these bumpkins.

“I assure you James, I am not bewitched. It is you who is blinded by love. Do you plan on using your talented marksmanship, or are you finished with this rubbish?”

James words pleaded, “Noble Sir, you have fought for king and country, and now your very soul is at stake! She must die. Look hard at her Sir Knight, see the soulless evil.”

William could not control his laughter. Obviously the boy was accusing the wrong person. The true evil was sitting right in front of him. But he obliged the boy and gazed hard upon his distraught wife. “I see nothing but my loyal wife lounging next to me. Tell me James, have there been any plagues or unusual deaths as of late, or, perhaps, crops failing and still-born children?”

James seemed to falter at the posed question. The serving girl quickly spoke, “No, but the devil is patient.” Maira harrumphed at the ridiculous answer.

William snorted. “I admire the devil then, because my patience is wearing thin.”

The serving girl began a low chant of scripture; her stance became solid as her arm drew the arrow. Maira knew it was a matter of seconds before the deadly point flew.

A wild screeching pierced the air as a volley of wings and claws descended upon the serving girl. Her scream momentarily stunned the stable boy. William threw his dagger. The boy stumbled back in a gurgle of shock, the blade stuck deep in his neck. Maira jumped to her feet, and William, not missing a beat, rushed to the boy with his sword held forward. The razor sharp metal slid easily into the boy’s stomach. William pressed his face close to the boy’s ear and whispered, “Wrong, boy, I am the evil you fear!”

Augden had successfully caused the serving girl to drop her weapon, and then flew off as swiftly as he had arrived. Blood covered her face and made her blind as she scrambled on the ground to find her bow. Not far from her, she heard the crunching of bone as William hacked her lover to pieces. Her chanting became a pitiful cry.

William was unaware he was smiling maniacally as he left off from butchering James. And damn if he wasn’t one of the best stable hands he had ever found! What a waste. William turned to see Maira gazing in alarm at the serving girl, who had found her bow and was again aiming it at Maira’s heart.

William launched his body toward her and sliced. In a spray of gore, one arm detached and hit the crimson soaked grass. The girl howled and the bow dropped. The arrow plunged safely away from Maira. In spite of the threat being resolved, William unleashed his pent up fury and pummeled the girl with his fists, until there was nothing but brains mushed into the dirt.

Maira’s gasp brought him round to his senses. He stood, ineffectively brushing the grass from his trousers, righted his shirt and vest, and flipped the hair from his sweaty brow. How was he going to explain his brutal actions? Facing Maira, he noticed she was covered in the girl’s blood, and read the dreadfulness of her expression. William was in a quandary. Should he kill his wife now, and lose the chance of one day obtaining her secrets, or play it off as a lapse of war memories? Maira shrieked and ran toward him. He braced for the impact. But instead of attacking him, Maira’s arms wrapped around his neck as she hugged him to her and cried “My hero, my knight-in-shining-armor!”

Steamy Friday Book Releases From Decadent Publishing!

2011-08-18T17:37:00.000-07:00

Available August 19th: Pandora's Box by Gracen Miller, and Mile High Airship Club by Nishi Serrano! http://www.decadentpublishing.com

Pandora's Box by Gracen Miller:

Where does the road to Hell begin?

What happens when your son turns homicidal overnight and your husband disappears on his way to work? Do you cower in fear or fight for your life? Madison Wescott fights against the odds. Distrustful of a God she doesn't believe in, she finds herself face-to-face with a world she didn't know existed and discovers her own soul is darkened with demonic connections.

With good intentions? Or by demonic design?

Phoenix Birmingham bursts into Madison’s life in a whirlwind of sarcasm and sexual appeal. A hero for the masses—and for her jaded heart—but few will ever know the sacrifices he has made or the sacrifices to come. Discovering her entire life has been influenced by multifaceted paranormal beings, Madison is determined to defeat the apocalyptic blueprint fate has decreed, but only one man dares to challenge the supernatural forces manipulating them. Even with Phoenix's aid, can destiny be denied? Or will demonic design prevail while they pay the crucial price with their souls?

In a small, sleepy Alabama town the battle for mankind's liberty has begun...

Author Gracen Miller

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

Mile High Airship Club by Nishi Serrano:

Tea, airships, and stockades—oh, my!

Newlywed Lady Rose’s curiosity is inflamed when a mysterious airship captain shows up extending an honorary invitation for her and her husband, Lord William, to join the Mile High Airship Club. A club she has never heard mention of in polite society. Rose is excited for the trip. It will be her first time aboard an airship. However, Rose is modestly unaware of the trials she will endure to acquire a membership in this pleasure club!

Author Nishi Serrano

Rockin' thanks to all of you out there supporting the small press and its talented authors!

Whipped and Steamed and Ready For Release!

2011-08-03T13:20:00.000-07:00

Are you ready to lose yourself in an erotic Steampunk adventure? Whip yourself into a frenzy of delight on August 19^th when ‘Mile High Airship Club’ is released through Decadent Publishing. Tea, airships, and stockades—oh my!
     Being a fan of Steampunk, and of Ann Rice (aka A.N Roquelaure), I felt the need to dabble a little into my own brand of erotica—classy, alternative, and atmospheric, the later in fancying the story transports you to a different world, not just focusing on the naughty bits. So, without further ado, allow me to give you a nibble of what is to come:

Mile High Airship Club (PG Excerpt):

“I commend you on your fashionable home and sharing a marvelous selection of wines.” Captain Harland complimented. “And, may I politely add, you are blessed with a wife as beautiful as the diamond-bright stars.” Rose squirmed uncomfortably at the compliment, afraid her husband would become jealous of the captain’s obvious admiration.
     William winked at Rose, allaying her fear, and held his glass high. “Indeed, I am a fortunate man, Captain Harland, and even luckier for the honor you are soon to bestow tonight.”
     “Oh, my, what tribute have you gained?” Rose was not aware of any new titles to her husband, but knew he deserved the highest of praise.
     “For us both, my love, a membership to an elite club,” William clarified.
     Rose clasped her hands together in excitement; she had only just started accepting societal invites, as every married woman should. Her favorite clique was, of course, the Royal Temple Gardening Society. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What affiliation will we be attending?”
     Captain Harland clucked. “It’s a secret, my lady, and must not be spoken of.”
     Rose scoffed. Surely he was joking. Seeing her disbelief, William added, “It is true, Rose. We must first prove our loyalty before we gain membership.”
     “My lady, the path to membership will begin aboard my airship, and a more delightful voyage you will never have,” the captain claimed. Rose was mystified, then ecstatic, for she had never traveled in an airship. It made her giddy expecting to share the first experience with her lovely husband and perhaps the fine-looking captain.
     “Ah, but let us retire to the study, Captain. An after dinner tawny pairs well with a fine cigar. Rose, if you will excuse us.” William stood and bent to kiss his wife on the forehead. Rose watched the two men leave, paying extra attention to the captain’s firm behind. She waited a solid twenty minutes before removing herself from the dinner table and sneaking quietly to the door of the study. Rose’s stomach fluttered as she peeped through the large keyhole, intent on discovering all she could about the captain’s mysterious invitation.

MHAC's release is August 19th, be sure to support the small press and their authors: http://www.decadentpublishing.com

The Scariest Tree, Ever!

2011-07-02T09:02:00.000-07:00

Recently, Yahoo posted a blurb about the creepiest trees. Well, not to brag, but my tree blows them away! I found this tree in a little town in Louisiana while I was on my way to the Myrtles Plantation. A great way to start a spooky weekend is to find a gem like this.
Tree's have always been a fascination of mine. They truly are one of nature's most beautifully sculpted creatures.

Do you have any scariest trees or haunted places you want me to post? Send them, and I will do a blog on your vision of the ghoulish and phantasmagorical world of wonders.

... And here's a few more:

And this last one, well ...

Cheers!

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale of Love, Part 4

2011-06-22T17:09:00.000-07:00

Long overdue, but here it is: part four of Chimera. If you missed parts 1-3, then scrolldown to catch-up. Cheers!

Chimera:
PART 4 Maira Annwyn

The Princess Maira led William to her fortress hidden amongst tall pines at the heart of the island. William felt the length and breadth of the isle rather deceptive, as they walked quite far to arrive at her abode. It wasn’t a tall fortress, nor as expansive as a castle. But once inside, the fireplace crackled brightly, and the décor was plush. Richly colored fabrics hung from windows and ceiling, and couches stacked with pillows waited to be reclined upon. The table was set with golden wares, William’s eyes ignited.

“You must be parched,” Maira smiled. “I shall fix you some tea. There is a pot of roast near the fire.”

William took a bowl from the table and hungrily dished up the tasty smelling grub. He returned to the table in a state of bliss at the wonder of his fate. “Obliged your Highness, this roast is most delicious. But, where are your servants?”

“Oh, I’ve no need of them. They tend to be bothersome, and never do as told. I don’t mind fending for myself. Besides, the boredom of someone constantly pandering after me—besides a husband mind you—would be tedious.” Maira poured him tea and sat opposite.

“May I be so bold as to inquire… why are you hidden away on this island, instead of at Court?” William asked with the most innocent face he could muster.

“Well, it’s a long story Sir Knight. The short of it is I rebelled. And one does not rebel against the King and Queen. Not to worry though, my kingdom is far, and they care none I’ve fled.”

William huffed, “Surely it is not right for you to live here alone! You are far too brave and lovely to not have comfort on bitter nights. Aren’t you frightened? Tell me, how do you supply yourself?”

Maira laughed. “Your concern is touching. I’m a modern woman dear Knight, and fear not the darkness nor storms. I’ve learned to control any tomfoolery from nearing my isle. And my considerable fortune supplies me just fine.” With a dainty hand she tipped her cup against rosy lips.

This lady was the most perplexing creature, William mused. Her fortune must be considerable, indeed. A forlorn princess could easily be swayed, and it wouldn’t take him long to find the treasure. “If you would give me the chance fair princess, I would like to stay awhile. I’m sure the company will alter your ideas of solitude. For you are clearly divine, and deserve to be seen at Court.” William reached to place a hand over her resting one, turning puppy dog eyes compassionately to her liquid amber ones. She batted her lashes, and grinned shyly.

“On one condition, Sir Knight,” she gravely remarked.

“Anything, your wish is my command,” William bowed his head.

“You must promise to never—never—eat or even think of touching one of my apples, on or off the trees.”

Maira stared hard at his face for any deception as he replied, “An easy task. I promise beautiful princess, to now and always stay clear of your fruit.” The isolation must have touched her head. Apples he could handle, but her other yields were fair pickings!

“Good, I’ll hold you to the promise, and in return I will shower you with youth and wealth eternal, for as long as you comply.” Her gaze was suddenly as a snake’s, tempting him of pleasures to come. William pulled his hand back. He was hoping for a challenge, but clearly this fair maid had it in mind to bed him from the very start. No matter, all the quicker to reveal the cache and dispose of her. Oh, he would surely enjoy taking his time carving the prize, bit by bit.

The day passed gaily, and by night’s arrival William had gained Maira’s full trust. Earlier in the day he retrieved his horse and possessions, and now reposed in his personal chamber, listening to frogs and night birds lull him to sleep. Surprisingly, Maira coyly bid him good dreaming without so much as a peck on the cheek. When he slept, he dreamt of only her—wrapped in red and surrounded by sharp pointy things. It was a pleasant dream.

Sunlight woke the handsome prince, for that is exactly what he would be once he obtained Maira’s assets. He busied himself with freshening up, and noticed something odd. There was no mirror in his room. In fact, he hadn’t seen a single mirror in the entire fortress during his tour. ‘Hmm … she must be more daftly insecure than I guessed,’ He muttered to himself. The thought quickly left him as he exited the bedchamber and smelled fresh biscuits and eggs wafting from the kitchen, and always the enticing smell of apples underneath.

Maira was as golden as a honey bee flitting around making breakfast. All bashful smiles and good mornings, she insisted they have the morning’s meal outside. Crisp beams of heat filtered spotlights through the boughs, greeting them with a perfect morning. William fancied himself almost content. A strange feeling for him, he hastily shook it off. During their meal, a large bird arrived. It soared and screeched amongst the trees to land on a perch near Maira.

“William, I’d like you to meet my companion Augden. He is a very special bird,” she said, smoothing its giant feathers.

The bird closely resembled a hawk, but this was clearly the largest and most menacing hawk in existence. “Hello Augden,” William said uneasily. It continued glaring at him. He decided right then he hated the bird.

“Oh, don’t let him ruffle your feathers William. He’s harmless, keeps the vermin from messing with my orchard.” Maira cooed and rubbed behind the bird’s head. Augden chirped once and turned its head up at William, eyeing him sideways down its curved beak.

Snobby little pecker! Maira would be short one companion soon. “Fair Lady,” William began.

“Please, enough with the chivalry if you don’t mind. Simply call me by my name,” she interrupted.

Right then, he’d get down to it. “Maira, shall we walk a bit. I could do with a morning constitution.” Walk they did, eventually hand-in-hand. William’s arms circled the princess’ waist, and kissed the serum of her mouth. The two found themselves to bed. Between the sheets and William’s limbs, Maira promptly alleged her devotion. By far, she was the best lover he’d ever seduced.

The days became a blur to William in Maira’s wild passion. The damnable bird eluded every attempt of death as William searched the island for her riches, and at the end of each day he retired empty handed, exhausted, and secretly enraged to her all consuming lusts. After what seemed an eternity of frustration towards not finding the treasure, William’s last resort was to ask Maira’s hand in marriage. She gleefully accepted. William was grim. Proceedings were certainly not going as planned.

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale of Love, Part 3

2011-06-06T13:05:00.000-07:00

If you missed parts 1 & 2, then scroll down a bit to catch-up.
Chimera is a spin-off of a favorite character--Maira Annwyn--in my novel 'Wandering Hallows Night', But be warned: Please don't touch her apples!

PART 3 Secret Passage

William was exhausted. The lake proved to be farther from the tavern than he expected, and the road unmarked. When he did arrive, it was deep night with little moonlight to guide him. Once past the tree-line, the lake was magnificent. It appeared to stretch as far as the sky, and off in the middle was an island. William scoffed, “Ha, nothing unordinary looking about that lump of land!” Well, these peasants could make a right yarn out of an old sock, he mused.

Deciding it was time for a wink, William followed the shore until he found a group of enormous boulders which concealed him from sight, just in case the wench was missed. He doubted anyone would in the first few days, instead they’d probably think she had finally run off with a traveler. William changed out of his blood soaked garments and unrolled his bedding. With a contented smirk, he snuggled in. Tomorrow he would swim to the island and find the treasure he was sure was buried there, after all, stories were woven for a reason.

The morning was cold. William sat up and wiped the grunge from his eyes and gazed about. A heavy mist rolled in from the lake causing an eerie dawn. As he gathered his night accouterments, William noticed something odd. Between the crevice of two boulders was a doorway. At night it would have been hard to see, but in the misty light, the opening glowed with a dull illumination. Intrigued, William prepared to explore.

Standing at the opening, William stared down a flight of fifty steps cut into the rock. However, the strangest thing was he could see. Someone had lit candles sitting in alcoves in the walls, which meant as he slept, he was most likely not alone. His footsteps were hushed as he slunk into the unknown. At the bottom of the steps is a short corridor and then another set of stairs. Beyond the second set the lengthy hall wound. Drops of water fell from the ceiling into puddles on the floor. “I do believe I’m under the lake,” William uttered in awe, “How ingenious!”

Nearing the end of the tunnel, William noticed the sound of the most heavenly voice he had ever heard, lovelier even than the voice of the homely girl with the charmed vocals who sang at the Sunday church services back home. Of course, she had vanished four days before William left to war. Though he didn’t take stock much in superstitions, William carried her dried chords in a box to insure the luck of a smooth talker. Always pays to have a bit of luck on one’s side.

Ah, but this voice, if only it could be bottled! It was enough to make the seraphs weep. Upwards he strode upon more stairs to alight above ground. William chuckled, he was on the island! It looked different somehow, the lackluster seen from the opposite shore was gone. Orchards of apple trees stretched thick and fragrant, and in the center a gazebo garlanded in flowering vines. From the distance, he could barely make out the figure reposing in the garden covering as it sang and stroked a harp. The notes it played where so pure, the apples on the branches seemed to vibrate, adding to the mystical sound. Was he dreaming?

Sneaking closer, William positioned himself to just beyond the harp player’s periphery. Cascades of sun-drenched locks hid the woman’s face, but the slender fingers plucking the strings glittered with a king’s ransom of jewels. William had found his fortune. Entranced by the rings on her digits, William didn’t realize the music had stopped, and the woman was staring right back at him. Oh, but she was golden! A chastely angelic, heavenly woman—and they both fronted each other with the same expression of surprise. For once in his life, William was speechless.

“Sir, do you make it a habit of sneaking up on women?” she demanded.

Actually … “Uh, no, forgive me if I startled you fair maiden,” William sputtered.

“Ha, I’m a princess, sir, and you are?” The lady moved her harp to the side and stood. She waited for his reply with hands on hip, her voluminous gown spilling around her like a solar flare of sparkles.

Never in his life had William spied a more beautiful woman. Perhaps he would take his time with this one, if she were to allow his favors. “Pardon my insolence, such magnificent beauty could be nothing less than a princess. I’m but a weary traveling Knight, on my way home from the recent war. Sir William Rourkevedin, at your service …” he bowed.

“It’s not often one finds my secret passage. Welcome to my island Sir William, it’s a good thing every princess needs a Knight in shining armor … er, you do have armor don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. I left it by the passage, as I was curious to find what lay on the other side,” William waved.

“You know what they say about curiosity,” she said.

“Killed the cat?” added William.

“No silly, it questions an apple’s fall.”

William blinked. Was this a riddle?

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale Of Love, Part Two

2011-06-03T16:44:00.000-07:00

If you missed Part 1, you can scoll down a couple posts to read it first (which I suggest). Chimera is a little taste of one of the main characters in my novel 'Wandering Hallows Night'. Enjoy!

PART 2 Night’s Temptation

A half-moon of teeth gripped the night as William hid behind a tree. As serene as a ghost, he watched the road while puffing on a fragrant pipe. The wait was long, but eventually the barmaid traipsed nervously down the road with a small lamp as her guide. William’s horse gently snorted, alerting the girl of an unseen presence.

She whispered, “Sir Knight, be that you?”

William ignored the question and watched her wrap a chilled arm around her chest.

“Who stands in the shadows?” she demanded. William smothered his pipe, and crept as quiet as a cat stalking a mouse.

Holding the lamp higher, the barmaid squinted at the dense trees surrounding her. The night was still, unlike her heart, of which William swore he could hear galloping from her quivering chest.

“Well then, I’ll be off …” she muttered angrily, a poor attempt at bravery. When she turned to flee, William leapt, causing the poor girl to scream and flail in terror.

Keeping a firm grip of both arms, William covered her yowling with a kiss. William felt her muscles relax, and the scream melt in her throat. He pulled back, saying, “A warning fair maiden: a young woman could get herself killed alone at night on an empty road!”

A slap burned William’s cheek—a saucy lass was she! “You nearly killed me with fright, where’s the honor in that, Sir Knight?”

“As much honor as inviting a wench into the forest!” he laughed, and seeing her soured face, added, “As pretty a lass as you at least deserves a full-moon, and a bed of warm leaves.” She smiled, mistaking his words for a compliment. William clutched her hand and led her into the brush, away from the road. The barmaid was envious of his grace, his steps quiet and unencumbered by the vegetation, whereas she sounded like a cow blundering about. Passing his horse, the two made their way farther from the road. She giggled when William flashed her a smile and wiggle of brow. She couldn’t wait to taste those lips again! He was like a dream, and for tonight she was his princess, she would deny him nothing.

“The moon is at the half, winking at my little secret!” William said.

“Our secret!” she laughed.

William halted next to a sprawling oak tree. He twirled the barmaid under its branches, then pushed her, squealing in delight, against its massive trunk. William hovered over her, one palm resting on the bark over her head, the other fondling locks of her hair. The lamp she clung too shook with a yearning for his intimate caresses. His hand grazed her cheek and neck as he slid it along the hair framing her face, continuing down her arm to the lamp. He imagined a hundred ways to torment her with the fire, sequestered it from her grasp, and set it on the ground.

Her hand freed, the greedy girl clasped his neck and tugged him to her mouth, seeking to taste his love. William obliged, he was in no hurry. There was plenty of darkness to last. Her hands were all over, and William enjoyed her exploration. An owl screeched above, causing her to jump. “Perhaps it was a banshee crying for a soul,” he joked.

“Don’t frighten me luver,” she pouted.

William looked concerned. He put a finger to his lips, “Shh … did you hear it?”

“Hear what?” she queried. She wished he’d stop the tossing and get on with the snogging.

“Hmm … I swore I heard something,” William looked to the right and left.

“I heard nothing. Stop teasing me—”

“There it is again!” William’s wide eyes pinned her against the tree. Was he serious?

“Nothing, I hear nothing,” she snapped.

“There! Do you hear it now?” William barked. A Knife materialized from William’s back, held high in the air and pointed at the barmaid’s chest. She howled in terror. William’s body kept her fast against the tree, she kicked and screamed. The handsome face turned into something hideous—the face of a mad-man! “Oh, but you hear it now don’t you!” William snorted angrily. The half-smile of the moon glinted on the blade as it came down hard, repeatedly, crunching into the barmaid’s flesh and bone. Shrieking in tandem with the noise below, the owl took flight. Grunting from his hearty administrations of ghastly veneration, William smiled as he watched the owl disappear. Yes, he thought, take her soul my friend, there are plenty more.

He gazed at the slumped, blood soaked remains of the barmaid. “Here is your warm bed of leaves my love,” he arranged her as if she were sleeping. “Now then,” William announced to the night, “Off to find that lake!”

Return soon to read Part 3 of Chimera!
Cheers ... Author Nishi Serrano

In Memory Of A Hero ...

2011-05-30T08:29:00.000-07:00

Sergeant Jacob F. Livesey 1980-2008:

A brave soldier, hilariously lovable little brother, caring and respectful son, and the best uncle—ever! Jake was (and still is) my youngest sibling. He died while serving in the military under suspicious circumstances. These circumstances were never fully divulged, but eventually there were arrests made. He died about five weeks before his fourth round of deployment. It took us over two weeks to finally have his body released for burial. His death was sudden, and inexplicable. It happened on base in Colorado, Fort Carson.

I hope in his peace he knows how much of a Hero he is to me, and that we miss him too much to express.

My favorite quote from Peter Pan is: "To die would be an awfully big adventure." Jacob has moved on to that next big adventure, and someday, perhaps, his family can join him.

This blog is to all the Hero's who have fallen, and to all those who are still fighting for our freedom, thank you doesn't express the gratitude I wish to convey, but you--the hero's--are in my heart and thoughts.

Chimera: A Dark Fairytale Of Love

2011-05-22T20:38:00.000-07:00

Chimera is a short story spun from a favorite main character in my dark fantasy novel 'Wandering Hallows Night', namely the character Maira Annwyn. I don't want to divulge too much information, instead, I'll let you delve a little into her back story, but be warned: please don't touch her apples ...

Part One: William

William was parched. Even after his second ale, his thirst grew. He eyed the bar wench and winked. A pretty tart, though a little thin for his tastes, still, she would have to do. The small hamlet in the forest wasn’t much for choice damsels, and the wench was far from distressed. Sauntering to the table, she bent over to whisper in William’s ear exposing a nice peep of small mounds.

“Sir Knight, may I be bringin’ ye another round, or perhaps a nibble?” the barmaid crooned.

“Lady, I do believe a nibble would be most appetizing,” William smiled. His charms had won over many a fair maid. In fact, William was irresistible to woman. It gave him an advantage over others that sustained him quite agreeably. And because of his persuasive talents, William rose to the ranks of knighthood faster than most young men his age. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind bringing me a bit of bread and stew,” he asked politely. The wench frowned. William grinned and added licentiously, “And dessert will most definitely be in order ….” Giggling, the barmaid went to fetch William’s request. She was confident her favors would win over the handsome cavalier.

William enjoyed traveling, and he preferred to do it alone. This last campaign had taken William farther from his birthplace than usual, but war and wanderlust were in William’s blood. He hated the fact he was heading home. The men’s laughter next to William’s seat broke his reverie. He listened in, hoping to gain a peasant’s anecdote, or gossip.

“Nay, nay, I swears it be! Me laird’s lad tried to woo her an’ woke without memory, ‘cept that of a beautiful woman!” said a grizzled old man. The others clucked and scoffed.

“All that talk of the islands on the lake is rubbish—been out theres me-self and never seen hide nor hair stirrin’!” chuckled a broad, bearded man.

“How now Jack, ye never go out there lest yer snooked! I heard ye babblin’ to Gus ’bout the mists got on yer boat scarin’ the piss outta ye! Ye swore heaven an’ hell ye never paddle near the cursed island again!” The thin, wiry man spoke through missing teeth, a fish monger, no doubt.

The broad man’s face turned red. “Ain’t so!” he shouted.

“Is so!” laughed the fish monger.

“I heard it be a wealthy princess secluded herself on the island. Upon close to losing her family and title, buggered off to hide her and the kingdom’s fortune, gets a little lonely from time t’ time, picks a man and lets him stay awhile. Then, bewitches him so’s he can’t remember snogging her. Maybe you been snogged Jack, an’ was too pissed to remember!” teased another member of the ragtag table. The others hooted.

Jack defended himself. “Folks go missin’ out there! It’s them fairies, they don’t like trespassers!” Mention of fairies by the big, strapping man was enough to send the table into roars of laughter. William chuckled silently too. These peasants were a superstitious lot! There were many foreigners about these days, but any reasonable Knight would never fancy fairies! However, the story piqued William’s curiosity.

Bread, stew, and ale clunked onto the table. The wench eyed him voraciously. William stroked the hand resting on the table, then quickly wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her closer. “Meet me tonight, at the road marker just before the forest begins. I desire something soft and sweet …” William let his words linger, enjoying the blush spreading over the barmaid’s skin. He let go of her wrist. She beamed with delight at their little secret. For the rest of William’s visit to the pub, the wench’s anticipation of the rendezvous bounced her around the bar as if she were a queen. Oh yes, William thought, the royal treatment awaits her!

Tune in next week for part two! Cheers!

Myrtles Plantation Ghosts

2011-05-07T13:44:00.000-07:00

Recently, I took a small excursion with my Mom to the world famous Myrtles Plantation. Myrtles’ claim to fame is "One of America’s Most Haunted Homes", and I was excited for the opportunity of perhaps being lucky enough to be honored with a glimpse of its ghostly denizens.

Myrtles Plantation is located on US Hwy 61 just a little past St. Francisville, Louisiana. If you stop by the cute little town, be sure to have a cup-of-Joe at Birdman Coffee & Books, where art and birds fill the walls, and is the only place in town to get breakfast, other than the delicious breakfast you’re served if spending the night at the plantation. You might also want to pop into the Audubon State Historic Site.

Arriving around 4:30pm on a Sunday, I was disappointed we were not able to have dinner at the Carriage House Restaurant due to a wedding, and further disappointed we had to scramble to find somewhere to eat because we paid for the Mystery Tour at 6pm. We ended up going to a grocery store and buying the makings of baloney sandwiches, and sadly settled for beer with lime instead of my mint julep, which I planned on sipping while sitting on the massive porch in a wooden rocker.

The mystery tour was informative, but only one picture was allowed during the tour, and that picture was of the old mirror where many a supposed eerie face shows up. Or, as the tour guide claimed from the stairs she stood on and could be seen in the mirror, the tour guide is guaranteed to not show up in at least one of those mirror photos clicked hungrily by us tourists. Most of the camera’s were digital, and no one claimed the tour guide missing from their pics.

After the tour, surprisingly most everyone cleared out, leaving me and my Mom to snap photos of the quickly retreating sun. The grounds of Myrtles are indeed peculiar feeling. Massive trees dot the plantation, and solemn statues peek from around bushes and gas-lamp poles. The courtyard is squared with laid bricks and metal patio furniture. A large fountain in the center of the courtyard spits water at the moon. Two raggety black cats and one tabby beg for handouts, and will be your friend for the rest of your stay if you oblige. A feature I found haunting was the gazebo on a small island surrounded by a moat. A long bridge takes you to the mini island, where an apparition of a woman is supposed to roam. We took our time exploring the landscape and snapping pictures we hoped would reveal the paranormal.

Inside, we headed to our room: The John W. Leake Room, where—if you are a Ghost Hunters fan—you’ll remember GH debunking the cigar smell. The room also sits over the old dining room, so listen for bumps in the night below! I have to add here that the room we stayed in was quite dirty, and for the price and world famous part—you would think the proprietors would keep it a little cleaner (the dust on the chairs was so thick they were turning into giant dust bunnies!). In bed, we set our clock to wake up at midnight in order to do a bit of ghost hunting ourselves. When it was time, we stepped out, but found that everyone who had booked a room decided to head out too! Needless to say, I didn’t find any ghosts … or, did I?

Breakfast was served in the quaint gift shop: coffee, juice, grits, ham, eggs, and a biscuit with pecan butter and jelly. It was a good time to meet the other ghost hunting enthusiasts and share our nightly stories. The married couple who stayed in the nursery and set out jelly beans didn’t seem to encounter anything except what sounded like a bass guitar. I promptly replied it must have been the ‘air guitar’ played by the ghosts—and my Mom added “They must have tired of the elevator music.”

We decided to do one more round of snapshots, and then packed up for our next adventure at the ‘Afton Villa Gardens’, which is entirely a separate blog. Upon scanning my digital pics, nothing unusual seemed to show up, and again, I was feeling a smidge of disenchantment. However, on returning home, two unusual anomalies did in fact emerge.

The first photo is at midnight in the trees at the front of the house, and shows some orbs. When I magnified the orbs, I noticed one had a face … now, I’m not into orbs, and personally I think they are almost always dust and bugs, but these were up high and kind of peculiarly bright, even in the dark. Maybe it’s only my brain trying to make some recognition sense, but, well, you can decide:

And here is the orb photo originally, but slightly lightened, as it was a very dark photo:

The next picture is the truly strange one. It was taken on our dusk stroll, and is of the gazebo and island. What I noticed was a strong whiteness on the island not far from the white of the gazebo, near the dark bushes. When I magnified it, I could clearly make out the image of a woman in a long dress and ruffled hat or bonnet. I circled it in black so it’s easier to see. I played around with the photo by saturation and darkening and stuff, and something is definitely there, but barely there. The photo I have posted is not messed with in any way except lightened a little to see the figure better (and of course the arrow and circle added so you know where to look):

And again, here is the full photo in its original without me brightening it for detail:

Perhaps the wispy occupants of the Myrtles Plantation were watching us all along …

Hellfire Publishing's Grand Opening!

2011-04-29T14:29:00.000-07:00

Friends and family,

Please join me in welcoming Hellfire Publishing as they open their doors to the publishing industry by launching their fabulously fiendish website this Saturday (April 30^th)!

To celebrate this exciting occasion on the eve of May Day they will debut a fantastic group of talented authors. Plus, ‘The Hellfire Book Of Beltane’ benefit anthology with my short horror story ‘Old Looshi’ will be ready for purchase, and a portion of the proceeds go to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital!

Don’t forget to stop by the Hellfire Herald for advice on writing, and Carson Buckingham’s hilariously horrific horrorscope, and meet Hellfire’s authors at ‘The Campfire’ blog-site.

http://www.hellfirepublishing.com/

Long live the small press!!!