Mystic Monday

Zombies and Ravens

Hi there all,

Sorry for posting late, but that's half the mystery about it, don't you think? I know I should have created my post this morning before I went to bed, but I was busy finishing the YA Room, which has functioning pages now and a list of YA links. The links are a work in progress and will be in flux as I determine sites that are worthy and those that aren't!

Today is the first Monday in October and I am in prime scare mode. Over the weekend, Steve and I watched a really, super cheesy zombie movie called, Dance of the Dead.  For some of you though, it might have one redeeming quality, the zombie love scene.

Yep, you read that right, zombie love scene! - I comment no further, here.  It was not the best part of the movie.  To me, the best part was from the trailer and it never really existed, which bummed me out quite a bit.  In the trailer, when the sci-fi club found a group of people locked in a room, they open the door and say, "We're the sci-fi club and we're here to rescue you!"  That would have been the ultimate and fitting line, right?  Well, that scene actually turned out to be a compilation of two scenes.  The way it actually happened, wasn't that great as far as I'm concerned.  In fact, the movie wasn't that great.  However, some of you may appreciate it and it might be good for a few laughs early on during the zombie fight scenes.  For some reason, zombies can rebuild themselves when they're pretty dumb to begin with, yet the human body just doesn't work that way...  Somehow, the zombie scenes looked much better in the mummy movies with Brendan Fraser than they did in this one. 

There was one redeeming quality to this movie, and his name is Nash Rambler (Blair Redford)!  Why?  Well, his music soothes the savage zombies and keeps them at bay.  Plus. he's the ray of light in what looks like the most dire scene for the hero and heroine of the movie in an all too predictable way.  But it was still a pretty good scene.  Gotta love the name Nash Rambler though.  When you try to google it, you won't get his pretty face because you'll get a gazillion images of the Nash Rambler car and the group named after them, the Nash Ramblers.  Your best bet is to search under the name, Blair Reford.  No relation as far as I can tell.

Now I have to pay homage to two great authors for without whom we wouldn't have the genre we do today - 

 

H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe.

H.P. Love craft wrote in the early 1900's and it is his writing that is responsible for much of what we have today.  Ever heard of the Cthulhu Mythos?  Well, that was his work which has influenced many people, including role-playing game creators.  Cthulhu was a hideous creature created by Lovecraft, which showed up in a few of his stories, and the Cthulhu Mythos refers to the system of lore created by Lovecraft.  His work has been referenced and used as a model so often and is now common place, so if you wonder where something from the paranormal came from, chances are, when you trace it's entire roots, you'll find them tied here, in some way shape or form.  Lovecraft has also spawned his own movement in music.  In one of my genre's articles I wrote for UW-Milwaukee's The Leader, I discovered that the group Blue Oyster Cult's music and lyrics were influenced by his works.  But they aren't the only band, there are tons.  So much so, that you might be surprised....

Edgar Allen Poe, on the other hand, wrote during the 1800's.  He had to be one of the most influential authors of our times.  He has book awards named after him and many authors in the genre of horror site him as one of their influences, but rather than having his own movement, was considered part of the romantic movement.  He is also considered to be the inventor of detective fiction.  He was also a huge contributor to the rising science fiction genre.  In case you haven't had the chance to read his poem, "The Raven," here it is below.  Enjoy!    

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" -
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never - nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore:
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore! 

SUPERNATURAL SUNDAY

~~~~~

BARBARA SHERIDAN MIXES UP

SOME LACE AND POISON

~~~~~

Barbara Sheridan is the author of over twenty books and she writes in the genres of romance, gay and lesbian, science fiction and fantasy. She’s written for Linden Bay Romance, Cerridwen Press, Loose Id, Noble Romance Publishing, Liquid Silver Books, Ellora’s Cave, Samhain and Ravenous Romance. Whew! That was a mouthful, but it also shows how successful she’s been in this industry.

Her latest novel is Falling Through Glass and is on sale now at Liquid Silver Books here: sale link -- http://tinyurl.com/ydktugj

To learn more about Barbara and her various other works, please visit her on the web:

Website: http://www.barbarasheridan.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/barbarasheridan
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/barbarasheridan

Now, that you know the basics about Barbara, let’s learn some ghoulish information about her…LOL…:

1. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

It’s not scary but I love “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”

My favorite movie “monsters” are definitely vampires which goes back to the days of Dark Shadows and watching old B-horror films on late night local TV

2. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

My girls are grown now and I’ve slacked off the past couple years but I was always in the Halloween spirit decorating and costume making-wise from late September on.

3. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

I haven’t decided yet but it will most likely be something bloody.

4. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

I’m not too superstitious. * knock wood * LOL

5. Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

I do believe and have a weird old house with inexplicable shadowy “things”.

6. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

The most amusing to me is the year I freaked out a passing little “Harry Potter” when I was in my Deatheater costume.

7. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

I don’t know. They all have their appeal and drawbacks. It would be a tough decision.

Now, let’s get to your writing:

8. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

As I said above I grew up in the days of Dark Shadows, Addams Family, the Munsters and Twilight Zone. And loved creepy comic books and the universal monster movies.

9. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

I guess “Truth is stranger than fiction” is a good one. I try to make the paranormal elements as believable or plausible as I can. I’d like readers to think “I can actually see that happening…”

10. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

Well I’m a big believer in HEA treats but ya know sometimes characters (and readers) have to put up with a trick before that final big treat payoff.

11. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

I don’t want to even talk about that dratted Muse who flits off when I need him most and leaves me to pull my hair out. LOL

12. What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

I think that would have to be the big bad Asian vampires Anne Cain and I came up with for our Dragon’s Disciple and Blood Brothers books.

13. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why? Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

I think the one I’d most love to chat with is Emmi Maeda the heroine of my latest release. Why? Because she got to go back in time and meet some historical samurai I’ve always wanted to learn more about. I’d want al the gossip on what hey were really like.

The ones I’d never want to meet would definitely be Shu and Sakurai two of our very baddest vampires.

** * * *

I have an awesome video trailer for my latest Falling Through Glass here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bd4WgfyKgFA

The book is on sale now at Liquid Silver Books here:
sale link -- http://tinyurl.com/ydktugj


BLURB:

Swept from the glitz of Hollywood to the bloody streets of feudal Kyoto, Emmi Maeda encounters the love of her life and the greatest fear she’s ever known.

EXCERPT:

Within seconds, Emmi began coughing. She flailed her arms and legs, swatting a blanket from her face. Her brain took its own sweet time processing the Japanese words someone called out. "Calm down. You're safe now. You're safe."

Coughing, she sat up and scrambled to her knees as much as the cumbersome layers of clothing and the blanket covering her would allow. She bent forward taking in large gasping breaths, hacking to expel the smoky air from her lungs.

"Daijoubu desu ka? Daijoubu desu ka, oni?"

Was she a demon? What the hell kind of question was that?

Still kneeling, Emmi straightened and swiped her tousled hair from her eyes. She then turned to look over her shoulder. Had her mother sent some distant relative to watch over her and taunt her with the demon epithet in her stead?

"Are you a demon?" the man kneeling before her asked again.

Emmi blinked and wiped her eyes; they still stung from the smoke. She glared at her supposed rescuer. "Yes, I'm alright and I'm not a demon, you idiot."

She looked around. This did not look like the sound stage. Where was the storm? Why were there no firefighters or paramedics?

Where on Earth was she?

"What?"

Emmi looked back at the confused man. He was around her age and seemed rather familiar somehow.

"What?" she asked in answer to the very same question from him.

"Nani? Nan desu ka, oni?" he repeated.

"Look, I know I should be grateful to you and all, but…"

She broke off as his look of bewilderment grew. She closed her eyes a moment. She hadn't carried on any long conversations in Japanese since she'd last seen her grandparents at the funeral. In fact, that hadn't been quite normal since a lot of the time they chose to use the old, classical Japanese...…which was exactly what this guy was speaking.

She spoke to him slowly in Japanese, hoping he'd get it straight that she was not a demon and that she was indeed all right.

"What is i-di-ot?"

Emmi coughed and wondered if coughing more might distract him from wanting to know what idiot meant. However, when he repeated the question, she knew that wasn't much of an option. She looked at him and translated 'idiot' as best she could.
She gave a start when the look of bewilderment, which she thought might be his natural expression, turned to one of fury.

When he jumped to his feet and grabbed the katana lying on the floor a few feet away, Emmi knew without a doubt that he was not holding any movie prop.

It didn't look like any unsharpened practice or prop swords she'd ever seen, but it did look exactly like the antique sword her father had owned. She knew without a doubt that this katana was very much the same, very real and very deadly.

She looked around the room again. Why wasn't she in the same room? Why wasn't it a shambles? Where were the security people or the paramedics, the police, and the firefighters? Where the hell was she?

Before she could figure it out, the man ordered her to stand. She knew that to refuse would not be wise--even if he insisted on calling her a demon.

He pointed the katana at her. "Go back to where you came from, demon. Now!" he ordered in Japanese, pointing the blade to the mirror lying face down on the floor near a small lacquered cabinet.

The mirror!

Emmi ran forward, fell to her knees and picked it up, making sure it was unharmed.

It was her mirror, but it was different. It looked newer, shinier, and while it had a dent on the right side, the other nicks and dents were missing from the base. Where did the cloth tacked onto the back come from?

"Go back inside, demon! You will not have my soul! Not now or ever!"

"Wha--?" Emmi's voice died the instant she turned. The man had the tip of his katana a fraction away from the base of her throat.

"Go back inside to where you came from."

What was happening?

Was she dead and in some kind of hell for causing the accident that killed her father?

Was she unconscious and having some freakish dream?

"Go back now, demon!"

Shaking in fear, Emmi blinked back the tears that formed in her eyes and prayed she wasn't screwing up any old Japanese pronunciations. The last thing she wanted was to say something wrong, something that would push this guy over the edge.

"I'm not a demon. I swear I'm not. I don't know how I got here. I was caught in a storm at a place I was working. The wall fell on me. There was a fire. That's all I remember. I'm not a demon. I swear I'm not. My name is Emiko. Maeda Emiko."

"Maeda?" he asked.

"Yes. My family comes from Kanaz--the Kaga han," she added.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then how did you come to be in the mirror? If you are human, and truly a Maeda, what did you do to disgrace yourself? Why would your family send you here to Shimabara to be a whore?"

He pointed the tip of the sword to her throat.

"Prove to me that you are human."

Emmi licked her dry lips and tried not to flinch. "How do I prove I'm human? Maybe by dying if you stab me?"

"Perhaps," he said flatly.

Starlight Saturday

YA Author Spotlight Presents...Lisa McMann!

Hello everyone, sorry I'm so late in getting this posted, but I've been busy reading Wake.  As many of you know already, the new sight design has been eating up a bit of my reading time, especially with it's launch this week.  However, when I woke up at 3:00am, I thought it would be a perfect time to catch up on my reading, so I did.  I figured, if I could at least read enough of the book to give you an idea about it, I'd be in good shape.  I figured it would be decent, as pretty much all of the YA books I've read by the authors I featured here, but I never could have expected what I found between the pages of this book.

I finished the book about fifteen minutes ago.  I couldn't put it down and reluctantly did so at the end of the book so I could share her interview with you today.  Before I do that though, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you.  Have you ever been sitting on a bus, or in the airport terminal seeing someone sleeping and wondering what it is they're dreaming about?  Wish you could see inside their heads?  I know I have.  But, you have to ask yourself, are you really ready the see the demons that plague their minds?  What do you do once you're in their heads, in their dreams?  What do you do if you can't get out?  Could you handle being forced to watch someone, like your husband for instance, live out his sexy fantasies and it reveals just way too much, more than you ever wanted to know, and have no way to not watch?

Well, Janie could tell you that it's not that easy to see inside people's heads, and in can pretty hard to get out of their heads once you're there, and it's no fun either because you have no control over your own body when someone else's dream forces it's way into your waking mind, especially when you don't understand why it happens or how to make it stop.  It can wreak havoc if you happen to be in a car when you're caught by someone's dream, and can't drive the car and wind up in a ditch.  You can also learn things about people you would really rather not know, but once you see something, or learn it, you can't undo it and what you know colors your mind every time you see that person in "normal" life.  But, once you understand it, it's not that bad, because you can learn to help people, but the road will never be easy.  She's now 18, and has learned all that, and that doesn't include the life lessons she's learned through life without knowing her father and having to deal with a mentally absent mother.

And you thought you had it rough, well Janie has had it a bit rougher, and she has had to deal with her issues since she was eight, so she really didn't get much of a childhood, at least not in the way we would expect.  Janie is a strong girl with big dreams and is strong enough not to give up on them.

I dislike that Goodreads only goes up to 5.  So, my rating?  10 out of 5.  This book was an exciting page turner.  Just when I thought I knew what direction the story was heading in, Lisa McMann found a whammy to throw at me.  It was great.  There were so many things in this story that you just can't see happening until the very second they do.  It keeps you guessing and it keeps you reading.  The style of this book is also special and makes it another perfect suggestion for reluctant readers.

While McMann doesn't use the proetry format that Jaime Adoff does, her story is broken up into entry dates, almost, but not quite, like a journal.  Some entries are short, some are long, but either way you look at it, the story isn't in the dense format and is a book someone who prefers to read small chunks at a time, or doesn't have time to read a lot at once.  Basically, it has built in break points that do not in any way detract an eager reader from enjoying the story.  This book is a definite must read for anyone!

Now, on to the interview!  

Let’s start with some trivia about you, Lisa:

Q.  Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween?  What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

A.  I’m actually not fond of scary movies. I used to be, but none in particular. I also used to love roller coasters but I can’t seem to take them well anymore. Do I sound old or what?

Q.  Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.? 

A.  When the kids were little, my husband Matt used to take the kids around while I stayed home and handed out candy to the trick-or-treaters. Now the kids can go off on their own and we usually hang out with our neighbors and hand out candy.

Q.  If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year?  What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore?  Why?

A.  Nope, I don’t dress up. When I was a kid, we were poor. All my costumes were terrible! Hobos. Mostly hobos. Which made them great, probably.

Q.  Are you superstitious?  Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder?  If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

A.  No again. Sorry. Not superstitious. But in the 6^th grade spelling bee, “superstition” was the word I messed up on, and I was devastated. So I am against it for all time.

Q.  Do you believe in ghosts?  If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

A.  If somebody told me they’ve seen a ghost, I’d give them the benefit of the doubt. I’ve never seen one.

Q.  Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

A.  Um…one year it snowed and the next year it was 75 degrees out. That’s all I got.

Wait, one more! My daughter was born in the evening on Oct 30, and on the 31^st in the hospital my doc came in dressed up like a doctor. Er…plus she had her little 3-yr-old son with her, and he was wearing an M&M costume. So that was cute. That year my 3-yr-old son went trick-or-treating with our friend June and her kids. He was a puppy.

Q.  If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

A.  I’m really not all that into paranormal creatures. I prefer characters that are human and have special abilities.

Now, let’s get to your writing:

Q.  Why the paranormal genre?  What was the draw for you?

A.  I’ve always loved books that were mostly real with a little dash of something beyond reality, ever since I read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Charlotte’s Web.

Q.  If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be?  Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

A.  Empathy.

Q.  Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats?  Does that show through in your writing?  If so, how?

A.  I’m totally a treat giver. I love to give things. It makes me happy. I think probably Captain in the Wake trilogy is the one who shows that part of me through the way she treats Janie.

Q.  Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse?  What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

A.  The muse is unreliable and fleeting. I rely on myself for most things and my dreams for the rest. I demand the muse appear, and the muse, she listens.

Q.  What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

A.  I don’t write about creatures. None that anybody knows about yet, anyway. And none that I can reveal at this time. (Ah, but there’s a hint … there may be news coming soon.)

Q.  If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why?  Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

A.  I don’t think there are any that I wouldn’t want to meet. If I had to choose just one that I could meet, it would probably be main character Janie.

Wake hit the shelves March 2008, Fade in February 2009, and Gone will hit store shelves in February 2010.  If you invest in one YA series this year, make it McMann's Wake trilogy, you won't be disappointed!      

Reluctant Reader Home

PHANTASM FRIDAY

ANIDA ADLER STIRS UP

A HOT CELTIC BREW

~~~~~

Writing as Nadia Williams, Anida Adler is the author of The Pebble, a spicy paranormal romance published by Amira Press, and the author of, Offering, a paranormal romance published by The Wild Rose Press. Ms. Adler’s newest book, The Ancient, is a celtic mythology/shapeshifter paranormal erotica, which was recently released by Loose, Id.

To learn more about Ms. Adler, drop by her website at: http://www.anida-adler.net/home.htm

~~~~~

It’s a pleasure to have you with us today, Anida. October is a month long paranormal event for us Moonlighters, so we’re delighted to have you with us. Let’s start with some trivia about you:

1. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

Aaargh! Scary movie! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! I am incapable of watching scary movies. One of two things happens:
a) I get really involved with the whole thing and I’m petrified, have nightmares for days to come. I jumped from a standing position over a double bed to get to a door once from a scary scene in 1988’s The Blob. Yes, that’s right, The Blob.
http://blog.mycology.cornell.edu/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/the-blob-eats-a-jock.jpg

Once, at a video night (this was in the days when owning a video machine was still unusual, which was not as long ago as you might think), I was trapped at the far end of a carpet of teenagers and couldn’t get away. I had to watch all of the 1987 film The Curse, and developed a lifelong fear of rotten vegetables.
http://media.photobucket.com/image/curse%201988/udar55/curse1.jpg

b) I use humour to distance myself from the film, making fun of every single thing in it. This unfortunately spoils it for everyone else. This technique didn’t work for The Omen. Not at all.

http://api.ning.com/files/vpVxQeNmkOZO72HghjvmP3pUJr7ea6ZHkEqn6xOhIv7auQMYFM10shDRXv3pmCcUeNk-j5gBr*E-gLU8bKM-pC7qM90e4-Mr/omen1.jpg

2. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

In South Africa, Halloween is not traditionally celebrated. Strange, I know, but there you have it. It was surprising to move to Ireland and find quite a big deal made out of Halloween. My family agree that I look scary enough when I wake up in the mornings to not need a costume.
http://comps.fotosearch.com/comp/ARP/ARP115/medusa_~Medusa.jpg

Also, as the resident mild eccentric in the neighbourhood, I think people are wary enough of me.

3. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

Not having dressed for Halloween doesn’t mean I don’t have a fond memory of dressing up as something scary. I did a monologue for a yearly talent competition, in which I portrayed a witch. I can still remember the first few lines, and apparently I did a mean cackle. So much so that I was asked to perform the monologue again at the school concert. My dad, who’d dabbled with amateur acting as a younger man, did an excellent job with my stage make-up. I even scared myself, when I looked in the mirror. That was really awesome.

Choosing now, I’d die to celebrate Halloween with the characters from The Big Bang Theory, one of my favourite television shows. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J43lAESftPs&feature=related

4. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

Superstition is fascinating, especially when you start looking at its origins. Sometimes it’s logical: don’t open an umbrella in the house, as it brings bad luck, the people hereabouts say. Well, I don’t know about bad luck, but have you ever tried going through a door with an open umbrella? Don’t walk under a ladder - someone is usually up on the ladder doing stuff like painting or drilling. Something could fall on your head.

But something like knocking on wood… apparently, in ancient times, people believed deities often lived in trees. So if they spoke of something they hoped for, they knocked on wood to probably wake up the darn deity so s/he could hear the request and get working!

Tossing salt over your shoulder, I was told when I was a child, sprang from the belief that spilling salt brought bad luck, and tossing some of it over your shoulder got salt in the devil that resides there.

I myself am not superstitious, but I love doing something at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s eve that embodies what I hope for in the year ahead. This last New Year’s Eve saw me cycling, with my laptop in a knapsack on my back to represent the writing I hoped to keep devoting my time to.

5. Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

I don’t, though I believe we don’t just cease to be when we die. I get the eeriest feeling when I visit an historical site, such as Roche Castle just down the road from us http://iol.ie/~scphadr/roche.html It’s as if I can hear the echoes of the people who had lived and died there.

6. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you, or someone you know, on past Halloweens.

We’ve only celebrated four Halloweens so far, so there’s little to work with. Beyond the everyday odd things such as that dismembered hand which always passes you things from the kitchen drawer and the headless man next door, I haven’t had any strange experiences on Halloween. Yet.

7. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

I’d be one of the Tuatha De Dannan as I envision them, because I love life (they’re immortal) and I think being able to do magic would be cool.

Now, let’s get to your writing:

8. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

I’ve been a fan of fantasy since I was a child. I am most intrigued by the problems people would face if they had supernatural abilities, how it would influence their personalities and the course of their lives.

9. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

Delighted fascination. I absolutely adore writing, I live for it, and if my readers can come away with just a fraction of the awe and rapture I feel when I create a story, I will have achieved something really special.

10. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

I prefer bestowing treats, though they may look like tricks at first. I sometimes feel like a sadist, as I love throwing a character into a near impossible situation. Yet my goal is always to bring him or her through to the other side a better, more fulfilled person who has a deeper knowledge of self and the world.

11. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

My muse is an absolute bitch and I hate her. And I love her, adore her, worship at her feet. I am her slave, but a willing slave, an addict who runs from the drug that is writing in vain, who always comes back for another fix, allowing the pleasure-pain of her cruel ministrations to drag me through hell into heaven.

I also tend to be a bit melodramatic.

Stories come and reside in my skull. They live there until I know them like I know the face I see in the mirror every day. I know where they start, and vaguely where they will end. From there, they do what they like, and I am no more than a medium for them.

12. What was the creature that you had the most fun creating and why?

I loved taking Irish mythology and filtering it through my mind to produce something fascinating. I loved creating this race and seeing what effects their particular abilities had on their psyches.

13. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why? Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

Oh, dear, this is a difficult one. I would love to befriend Tadhg from The Ancient, because I think he and I would get along like a house on fire. I am particularly fond of Ronán from The Pebble, but I’m afraid he would probably not get along with me very well.

I would rather not under any circumstances meet Dian Cecht. The man is truly evil, he killed his own son because he was jealous of him. How mean is that!

~~~~~~

BLURB - THE ANCIENT:

What would you do if you fell in love with the goddess of death?

Tadhg Daniels’ gift of days is at an end. When Morrigán, goddess of death, visits him to announce his impending death, she sees something in his eyes which she has never observed in any of her charges. She wants him, in every sense of the word. But can he handle the consequences of sex with an Ancient?

A part of Tadhg accepts his fate, but there’s another part of him that wants to live at any cost. How can he die, when he has just met a woman who sparks a consuming need in his soul?

There is a way for him to gain eternal life. Tadhg will have to face hidden desires, needs he has always denied. The shackles are waiting, and time is running out.


EXCERPT - THE ANCIENT:

Tadhg glanced at Morrigán and hesitated. Her gaze rested on him, and he saw eternity in her eyes. “No, Morrigán. No.” And with that he followed Mark, lifted his body from safety -- and felt the bullets slam into his chest as if time had slowed to a trickle. He fell and slid back into the shell hole, stared up at the blue sky in stunned disbelief.

Sound receded until he lay in utter silence among screams of pain and anger, in the midst of pounding boots and rattling guns. He felt no pain, but it was difficult to breathe, and something wet bubbled on his lips.

Morrigán crouched beside him. Why did she look angry? “You want to live, poet? You want to live no matter what?”

Again he felt that odd sensation of a part of him accepting, looking forward to entering the land of shades. He could blend with the power of running horses, exist in the steaming joy of early-morning gallops across dewy fields. Yet inside him, another part rebelled, struggled for life, even as he sensed the last few grains of sand sink to the narrow waist of the hourglass of his measure of days. And as he lay dying, he rested his gaze on Morrigán’s beautiful, pearl white face, and the part that wanted to live grew, filled him, became all of him.

“Tadhg, answer me. Do you want to live, no matter what the price?”

He couldn’t speak. Dear God, she offered him a chance, and now, because his lungs were filling with blood, he could not force his voice to reach out for what he craved with his entire being. Blackness tinged the edges of his vision; he fought to hold the receding image of her face. He nodded his answer, and she reacted in an instant, flicked her cloak over his body, and Tadhg felt himself falling, falling into a landscape of terrible dreams

Twilight Thursday

Keta Mixes Up Some Mayhem with the Moonlighters

Author, Keta Diablo, is the author of several books, including, Decadent Deceptions, which was a 2008 Molly Contest Finalist. Other books by her include Carnal Cravings, Land of Falling Stars, Dust and Moonlight, Crossroads and Crossroads Revisited.

I had the pleasure of reading two of Ms. Diablo's books, Decadent Deceptions and Carnal Cravings. I loved both books and still find myself thinking about the characters she created, especially the voyeur scene in Decadent Deceptions. Christ, that was a powerful scene!

Reviews for both books were posted here at Moonlight, Lace and Mayhem. To revisit those reviews, click the following links:

Decadent Deceptions Review

Carnal Cravings Review

Keta notes on her bio page that she loves to garden, read and write. Some of her favorite movies include Legends of the Fall, Man on Fire and Cold Mountain. In my opinion, all are excellent movies. Keta's books can be found at a host of different publishers, including Dark Roast Press, Noble Romance Publishing, Phaze and Ravenous Romance. To learn more about Keta, make sure you visit her links:

Author Home: http://ketadiablo.blogspot.com/
The Stuff of Myth and Men: http://thestuffofmythandmen.blogspot.com/
Keta’s Keep: http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com/
Keta on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ketadiablo

~~~~~~

First, let me thank you for guest blogging with us Moonlighters today, Keta, and for kicking off our month long Paranormal event! It's an honor to have you with us! Now, let’s get started with the juicy stuff. *laughs* Okay, so we didn't ask any juicy or scandalous questions, but some fun trivia about you is just as good:

1. Do you have a movie that you must watch every Halloween? What's your favorite scary movie? Do you have a favorite scary character or character type?

I’m not a fan of horror in the grisly sense, but I do love psychological thrillers. Two movies I watch at least once a year are Silence of the Lambs and Copycat with Sigourney Weaver. For me, these movies are terrifying, yet fascinating.

2. Do you have any Halloween traditions like decorating your house, having house parties, wearing costumes, etc.?

We do decorate the house and, of course, there is our annual trip to the local pumpkin patch followed by a carving contest in the family. Over the years, the carving process has resulted in some unique, elaborate designs.

3. If you do you dress up for Halloween, what will you be dressed up as this year? What was your all-time most favorite costume that you ever wore? Why?

The costume I enjoyed the most was the “witch” persona I adopted several years back when we attended a costume party. We’re talking green skin, warts, hook nose and long gray hair! My niece and nephew were terrified!

4. Are you superstitious? Do you find yourself knocking on wood or throwing salt over your shoulder? If not one of these two, what is your superstition?

I’m more superstitious about dates. For instance, I’ve never liked the Ides of March, yet can’t remember anything particularly horrific happening to me on that date. I’m also wary of Friday the 13th, and while I don’t go out of my way to stay home on these days, I’m aware of their existence.

5. Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever had a ghostly encounter and tell us about it?

I absolutely believe in spirits. When I was four, we lived in a house that was about a hundred years old. I was terrified to sleep alone in the back bedroom off the kitchen and insisted a little man sat in a corner between the coving and the ceiling. I still remember him, and liken him to a faery-like being. At the time my mom insisted there was no one in the room, and I couldn’t understand why she couldn’t see him. Psychologists maintain animals and children can see ghosts/spirits because they haven’t read about them or know nothing about them.

6. Tell us 3 funny or strange things that happened to you or someone you know on past Halloweens.

When my youngest child was in 7th grade, I decided to dress up as an old man and pick him up from school. Remember, at that age, the tiniest thing that called attention to you was mortifying. My son came out of school with his usual broad smile when he recognized my car, but then he saw the old man sitting behind the wheel and his smile vanished instantly. He knew it was me, but he was irate – walked right past me and I had to follow him for two blocks before he’d get into the car. I laughed all the way home, but he didn’t. Only now does he say it’s one of his favorite memories of Halloween.

7. If you could be any paranormal creature, what would it be and why?

A time-walker or traveler for sure. I love history and have so many questions about what happened back when. I’d love to see some of these eras first-hand.




Now, let’s get to your writing:

8. Why the paranormal genre? What was the draw for you?

My fantasy/time-travel, Dust and Moonlight, really came about as a fluke. I accepted an offer from an author friend to contribute to an anthology and wrote the short story. It came out so well, I dropped from the anthology (with her blessing) and lengthened it into a full novel. Again, it seemed natural to write about a character journeying into the past because of my love of history.

9. If you could describe your paranormal writing with a word or phrase, what would it be? Please be creative and look beyond words like vampire, werewolf, etc., and delve into the core of your writing to tell us what word or phrase you want readers to take with them when they've finished reading your story.

Depth of plot and characters.

10. Do you prefer playing tricks on people or bestowing treats? Does that show through in your writing? If so, how?

I’m much better at bestowing treats than playing tricks, and liken that to bestowing surprises on my readers rather than throwing a big monkey-wrench into the plot. I’ve read some books that have completely turned south at the end and I didn’t like the direction they took. Here you’ve spent all this time getting to know your characters and think you know how they would react in a certain situation, then suddenly the author whips something on you that is totally out of character or doesn’t belong in the story at all.

11. Who decides what creatures you write about, you or your muse? What kind of influence do you have over your story, or is the muse always the one stirring the cauldron?

I like to think I have most of the control in the direction a story will take or what my characters’ idiosyncrasies are. I do admit that in one book I was determined to kill off one of the main characters and when it came time to do it, I just couldn’t get the words on paper. So . . . is that my muse taking over?

12. What was the creature you had the most fun creating and why?

Owen, the sin eater from The Sin Eater’s Prince in the Boys of the Bite Anthology. I was totally entranced reading about the real sin eaters that existed in England, Wales and Scotland. While they weren’t really creatures in the physical sense because they were real, they were shunned by the local villagers and considered sub-human.

13. If you had the opportunity to meet just one of your characters in real life, who would it be and why? Which of your characters would you never want to meet under any circumstance and why?

I’d love to meet either Morgan from Decadent Deceptions or Gavin from Land of Falling Stars. Obviously, I’m biased, but I think my heroes are decadently wicked and gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want to meet such men?




BLURB:

About Decadent Deceptions: A 2008 Molly Contest Finalist – Erotica category


Daring and desperate to win Morgan’s love, Olivia Breedlove embarks on a reckless folly. But everything backfires when Morgan remains one step ahead of her and the game ventures down a path of duplicity and murder.A decade ago, Morgan was a heartbeat away from taking Olivia’s virginity. Her father, Thaddeus, intervened and threatened to meet him over pistols if he so much as looked at his daughter again. But now, Thaddeus is dead and Morgan has no intention of ignoring the ravenous hunger he’s harbored for the blasted woman for ten years.One way or the other, he will quench this burning desire and make her his forever.

Special Content Alert: Voyuerism


EXCERPT:

Chapter Seven

Morgan had been so lost in thought he almost failed to see Olivia ducking into the mercantile across the street in town.

Almost.

Silently he thanked his lucky stars. He intended to have a drink prior to calling on Madame Rousseau, but now that fate had intervened and placed the Goddess of his breath in his path, he altered course. Pushing the door open amid a melodic chiming of bells, he searched for her down every aisle. Finally he found her among the bolts of fabric, her brow creased, her selective eyes glancing between the terra-cotta and its sibling cinnamon.

“Why don’t you purchase both?” he said from over her shoulder.

She turned and looked at him, her searching gaze a mixture of surprise, and dare he think, subtle delight?

“Morgan, what-whatever are you doing here?”

“I desired a drink and intended to follow it up with a visit to Immortelles.”

“Immortelles?” Her eyes widened, and a blush rose in her cheeks. “You frequent the establishment in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Under a blue moon, in the afternoon, whenever the fancy strikes.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she said, her eyes sparking.

“You misunderstand me. I mean only to observe, not partake.”

Giving him the direct cut, she placed the fabrics back onto the shelf and said, “Good day to you, then.”

Denying her a chance to bolt, he grabbed her elbow, ushered her to the back of the store and backed her into a wall. With his hands at the sides of her head, palms flat against the hard surface, he said, “Join me.”

Bewilderment masked her features. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know you’re itching to return.”

A stillness fell over her.

“Why not with me?” It wasn’t easy to torment her while she looked at him with those green-spoked eyes, but he wanted to be near her, had an overwhelming urge to watch firsthand her sudden interest in carnal lust. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid,” he said.

His words effectuated the desired response. Her spine stiffened and her chin swept up.
“You’re the one who should be afraid,” she said smugly. “Especially since you can’t control, shall we say, a certain growing interest whenever a woman merely falls into your lap.”

It was clearly a taunt, and oh, how he wanted to toss her onto the floor, take her like a common camp follower and show her she had been equally affected. Realizing any such action would put an immediate halt to his pending suggestion, he gathered his wits.Catching her chin in the firm grip of his hand, he pressed on. “Yes or no, do you have the courage?”

“You’re mad,” she said on a half-laugh. “People will see us; it’s broad daylight.”

“No, they won’t.” He pointed to the back door. “That leads to the alleyway, and one block away is another back door to the brothel. I assure you, not a soul will notice us slip out of here and slip into there.” She glanced around the room furtively. “I double-dare you,” he said with emphasis.

“You’re certain no one will know?”

He crossed his heart, and without waiting for her to change her mind, led her through the back door and into the alleyway. Arriving at Immortelles within minutes, he ushered her through the door and down the hall to a room. It had all happened so quickly, he had a hard time reconciling that his plans were to speak with Madame first. Instead, he found himself about to enter a peep room with the woman who made his blood clot.

“Don’t tell me.” She paused at the door, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You have a standing appointment to voyeur? You can just walk into the brothel in the middle of the afternoon and go directly to a peep room?”

“I told you, I planned to call on Madame today. I sent a missive this morning,” he said and pushed the door open. “It has all been prearranged.”

“You prearranged it?”

With a nod, he pointed to the chairs, about to offer a lame answer when she said, “How convenient, two peepholes.”

“There are those who adore having company while they engage in voyeurism.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said with narrowed eyes. “In fact, I find it a little crass.”

“Pretend I am not here.”

“And how am I supposed to accomplish that with the holes mere inches apart?” She looked at the seating arrangement. “And the chairs nearly on top of one another?”

“Sit,” he said calmly, directing her into the plush cushion.

She shot him a lethal glare and slumped into the chair. He was delighted with the layout. He eased himself down beside her and inwardly smiled. They were shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh. Perfect.

“Must you be breathing down my neck?” she asked, the familiar scent of tea roses and jasmine wafting over him.

“I can hardly enjoy the performance from the mezzanine.”

The door opened moments later. Morgan didn’t know the man, but that fact wasn’t unusual. Hundreds of transients passed through the brothel monthly, in addition to the regulars. If women thought this particular John handsome, it would be in a rugged way. The rough-hewn features, textured skin and dark, wavy hair that hung a bit unruly around the collar of his shirt definitely lacked polish. He cut a fine figure, however, with wide shoulders, trim waist, and underneath the trousers, Morgan imagined, strong, well-muscled legs.

From the corner of his eye, he studied Olivia, and at the same time cussed the betraying blood pumping to his cock. That’s all it took, one look at her face or her exquisite profile, the slightly upturned nose and high cheekbones, long lashes and rose-petal lips, and the cursed member between his legs saluted the ceiling. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. How in hell could he watch a man and a woman make love and not imagine—wish with all his heart—it was he and Liv?

Worse, she seemed intent on the man, her lashes half-shuttered, her bottom lip parted expectantly. What did she think at this moment? Damnation, he didn’t want to go down that road. What if she imagined he waited for her, hoped that soon his hands would caress her body, his rough mouth would brush against her naked, dew-kissed skin? Christ! What had he been thinking? There was no point in pleading a sudden headache or inventing feeble excuses as if he’d forgotten some important appointment. Olivia Breedlove would see clear through his lies and raise the victory banner. No, come Heaven or Hell, he would draw on a lifetime of reserve, force his runaway heart to calm, turn his eyes away from that temptress’s face and watch the performance.

The woman entered—Annie, his most skilled courtesan. She had the capabilities and the body to call forth the thunder while pleasing a man. Or so Madame said, and so did his ledgers. Her willowy legs went on for miles, and her firm, pert breasts and sensually dark nipples contrasted sharply with her pale, flawless skin. Hair the color of chocolate tumbled around her patrician features in wild abandon, begging a man to crush his hands in it. She undressed, and Olivia licked her bottom lip.

And he reminded himself to quit looking at Olivia.

The man disrobed, right down to his birthday suit, and smiled the legendary smile of a master at seduction, a skilled craftsman about to ply his trade. Olivia squirmed in her chair and leaned forward. Morgan wondered if she recognized it, the gift that set this John apart from other men on the street. If not, she would soon.

Annie walked to the man, her hips swaying with nimble grace, her lips parting to accept his mouth. With his eyes closed, he ran his hand along the side of her neck and slipped it down to fondle her breast. His thumb and forefinger found a nipple, and he stroked it deliberately, tweaking it until she moaned her pleasure. Drawing him tightly to her, she wound her arms about his neck. He caressed her, gliding his fingers around her waist and over the soft flesh of her buttocks. Slipping his hand between their bodies, he found her mound of dark curls.
His fingers entered her, coaxing a wanton response. She threw her head back, and her lips opened, allowing a string of moans to escape. Annie purred her bliss as she arched her back and spread her legs wide, affording him full access to explore her thoroughly.

“Exquisite, isn’t she,” Morgan whispered.

Olivia cast him a sideways nod, her eyes half-closed, her breathing erratic. As for Morgan, his chest burned, his cock pulsated, and he accepted that it probably leaked, as well.

The man walked to the chair near the bed and settled into it, drawing Annie into his lap so she faced him. He took a breast in his mouth and suckled her, eliciting a strident stream of broken cries from her lips. His hands stroked and caressed her naked buttocks, his fingers entering her from behind. She arched up, bearing her weight on her knees while she straddled him, gyrating wildly above the wicked assault of his fingers inside her as his mouth sucked hungrily on her hard, peaked nipple.

Despite his vow, Morgan looked at Olivia, the blood pounding hard in his brain. Her lips parted slightly, she drew a shuddering breath, and her pale, staid face contrasted sharply against the flames of desire in her moist, jade eyes. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, but knew if he did, in the next moment he’d toss her under him and take her, without remorse, without regret. And she would let him. He saw it in the deep fathoms of her pupils, heard it in the decadent whisper of lust enveloping them.

Olivia looked away quickly. Was she terrified she might reveal her innermost fantasies, horrified to think he could see into her exposed soul? Morgan withdrew his gaze, too, and returned to watching the couple in the room. The man clasped Annie’s hips and plunged into her. In a restless state of delirium, her sweat-damp body rode him hard. With a shiver, she threw her head back, her long black hair cascading down to her waist.

Olivia rose from the chair to a stream of fractured moans from Annie, and with the look of a trapped minx, made a bolt for the door. On his feet in a heartbeat and knocking over the chair in the process, Morgan caught her wrist and spun her around.

“Let me go,” she said with ragged breath. “I’ve seen enough.”

Her unearthly beauty nearly felled him, not to mention the white-hot flames of desire licking every cell and pore in his body. “You’re such a little hypocrite, Liv. Voyeurism is perfectly acceptable, providing no one knows you engage in it . . . or enjoy it, is that it?”

“I must have been out of mind to agree to come here with you.”

“Why? Does it strike too close to the heart?”

“Oh, you really are a despicable, heartless scoundrel, a lowdown bounder who preys on helpless women.”

He couldn’t help the laugh, despite her outraged expression. “You? Helpless? If I remember correctly, you were the one who begged Cain and I to assist you in this sullied endeavor.”

“Sullied endeavor!” she said. “Why is it men can bed every woman from London to Luxemburg—married, maiden, or widowed—and no one bats an eye?” She trembled. “They frequent brothels and gentleman’s clubs, drink far too much, gamble their estates away, and society looks the other way.” She pushed him. “Huh, why is that, Morgan Gatewood? And more to the point, how dare you refer to this as a sullied endeavor!”

“Liv, I’m not like—”

“Turn me loose this instant.” She yanked her elbow from his grip. “And thank you very much, I shall find my own way back to the phaeton.”

“Find your way back to the phaeton, like hell; not until I’m done with you.”

* * *

You can find Keta Diablo on the Internet at the following places:

Author Home: http://ketadiablo.blogspot.com/

The Stuff of Myth and Men: http://thestuffofmythandmen.blogspot.com/

Keta’s Keep: http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com/

Keta on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ketadiablo

Be sure to leave Keta a comment, as she has agreed to give a lucky winner an e-copy of Boys of Bite!!! Judging by her other books, you won't want to miss this one!

A Moonlighters Review of According to Jane by Marilyn Brant

When I first read the premise of According to Jane, I thought, Well, this could be interesting. A young girl inspired by the voice of Jane Austen, whose ghost has taken up residence in her head? Well, that was different. But I like Jane Austen and I've read and enjoyed several books inspired by her, so when I was given the opportunity to read an advance copy of this book, I took it. And I am so happy that I did. According to Jane is everything you could wish for in a book. It's funny, it's witty, even poignant at times, and it's one of those books that grabs you from the beginning and won't let go until you're finished. It's a book that you think about in the down time between readings and stays with you after you finish it. an absolute dream of a book.

According to Jane tells the story of Ellie Barnett: Just your average high school kid until the day that Jane Austen comes to visit her mind - and stays there. the dialogue between them is sharp, witty, sometimes cutting, but always insightful. You see, for some reason, Jane has become Ellie's champion and has taken it upon herself to guide Ellie through the treacherous grounds of high school into adulthood. And Ellie, after a time, even learns to welcome it - for the most part. There are times when she decides to tune out Jane completely and she suffers the consequences for doing so. Especially when it comes to Sam Blaine, whom Jane describes as Ellie's own Willoughby. Sam is the ideal crush material - until he opens his mouth and some unflattering things come out. Sam is always giving Ellie a hard time, which sometimes leads them into trouble, both at school and beyond, when they are both adults. But he isn't just a pretty face. He can be kind and caring and even chooses to go into a noble profession. Sam is more than just a Willoughby; he is far more complicated and multi-layered than the original Willoughby. But of course Ellie doesn't realize this in the beginning. This is one of the lessons that she has to learn on her journey with Jane.

If I had to complain about one thing in this book, it's that there wasn't enough Sam! As I read it, I found myself breathlessly awaiting the time when he would reappear in Ellie's life and they would realize they were meant to be with each other. Then he would appear and I would think, Yes! only to have them part ways again, which left me unfulfilled. And whenever Ellie was with someone else, I secretly thought, No, she should be with Sam, or I like Sam better than this guy. But I suppose that this is a great testament to the storytelling; I became invested in Ellie's life and, much like Jane, I wanted her to make the right decisions. I found myself echoing Jane's sentiments and silently imploring Ellie to listen to Jane, take her advice. This, to me, is the mark of a good writer. Ellie's story became my story and I didn't want it to end, but when it did, I was satisfied with the way it turned out and already thinking of when I would read it again.

So does Ellie take Jane's advice? Does she end up with Sam - or someone else? And does she ever discover why Jane Austen's ghost took up residence in her mind? If you want to find out the answer to these questions, do yourself a favor and get a copy of According to Jane. You will be glad that you did.

Marilyn’s website: http://www.marilynbrant.com/

Marilyn’s blog: http://marilynbrant.blogspot.com/

Where to buy: http://www.amazon.com/According-Jane-Marilyn-Brant/dp/0758234619/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1238387155&sr=1-1

Author Jade Lee!

Terrific Tuesday!

Hi there everyone!  

I can't tell you why I have a fascination with the orient.  I'm not sure if it has to do with all those Charlie Chan movies I watched as a kid (ah, Son number 2 makes good observation!), the intrigue of Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express, my fascination with dragons, or if it was because while growing up I heard comments about my eyes being somewhat Asian-looking.  That's also been commented on recently as well.  While I can't say for sure that I do have an Asian connection because I'm just not ready to go searching for my true lineage (I'm adopted), I can say with certainty that I've always been fascinated with the orient and all things Asian.  I also have a fondness for Asian music, especially that found in anime.  Try as I might, I can't understand why I love Japanese and Chinese architecture so much.   


No matter how it happened, I found myself thoroughly enjoying historical novels from Mary Jo Putney based in China.  Okay, call me crazy, but I just never realized that other people would appreciate historical novels set in China, so I didn't expect there to be too many of them.  Imagine my surprise when I recently discovered Jade Lee.  

I found her completely by accident.  I was really intending to interview Katherine Greyle for today, but found that Katherine Greyle is now Jade Lee, and Jade Lee has lots of steamy, no, wait, make that fiery novels set in historical China.  I haven't quite gotten to them yet, but they are on my list and queued.  However, I have managed to skim through enough of them to know that I really want to read them!  So, I bring you Jade Lee!

Shorting the Glitz and the Glamor
I’m in between books right now. This means...well, it means that I get up late, read or watch tv, and rollerblade until my hip hurts. I also play a lot of solitaire, all in the name of finding that great idea. Truthfully, no idea comes to me until I spend some time meditating. No games, no tv, no physical activity, just my mind quiet and receptive. A mature woman would skip all that other stuff and go straight to meditation, but we’re talking about me. So, it took me a couple weeks, but, yippee! I finally got an idea for my next regency-era historical. I’m going to explore sibling issues in this next book (and sorry, that’s all the teaser you’re going to get!)

But once the basic concept was nailed down, I have a ton of other questions. In this blog, I’m going to ask you all about SETTING. Don’t roll your eyes, it’s not as boring as you might think. We all know the basic settings for regency era. You’ve got ballrooms and Almacks, Hyde Park and carriages, plus secret alcoves for kissing. There’s even the occasional folly or stable where more than kissing can take place. So here is my question to you:

How much setting detail do you want?

Assuming that the characterization and love story are gripping, do you really care about the pretty dresses, ballroom crush, or bad lemonade? If the writer gives you general descriptions: nice trees in the park, grand buffet at the ball, intimate spaces in the folly, can you fill in the other details all on your own?

I’m not talking about historicals set in China, for example. When I wrote my tigress series set in historical China, I knew that most people didn’t have a clue what Shanghai looked like in 1800. Smells, textures, even furniture decor had to be described. But I’m talking about Regency England, the mainstay of mainstays in historical romance. If I say there’s quite the crush in the Duchess of Whatever’s ballroom, do you need to have more detail? Or can I just go on to talk about what the hero looks like as he reacts strongly to my heroine’s gawd-awful gown (which of course would be described because...well, it’s gawd-awful).

I am guessing that you the reader has turned to a regency-era historical because it’s a land of balls and lords, glitz and glamor. So am I shorting you by not dwelling on the glitter? Can I give you the romance without the period details beyond the very basic? Inquiring minds want to know!

And if you answer in the comments, then someone will win a copy of one of my Jade Lee books be it contemporary Blaze, historical regency, or dragon fantasy. And yes, they’re all romance! So...what do you think? Oh...and extra point if you’ve purchased my current Blaze release Getting Physical. But my most recent historical, btw, is The Dragon Earl.