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Giveaway – The Gryphon And His Thief by Karen Michelle Nutt @RoxanneRhoads @KMNbooks

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Spirits from the Other Side by Karen Michelle Nutt

A couple of years ago, my friends and I went to see AJ Barrera, a psychic-medium.

There were about 158 people there for the event, so my expectations of having a reading were pretty slim.

Barrera explained that his communication with the other side was more like impressions, not actually chatting with the spirit in a way we have conversations. So, as he revealed the impressions and if it sounded like it could be one of our loved ones, he wanted us to stand. There was always a possibility of similarities, but as he continued to receive the impressions, it should eventually become clear who the spirit was trying to reach.

For the first reading, Barrera started by saying he felt the spirit was looking for someone in a particular area of the room, which so happened to be where my friends and I were seated. Then Barrera said the spirit’s name, which was my father’s. He then mentioned the spirit’s complications with his health right before he died. That was my father’s ailments. I couldn’t believe it. Was it really my dad?

When Barrera named my mother and my siblings, my two friends kept nudging me and telling me the spirit wanted to connect with me. Stand up!

Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely wanted to believe we could communicate with our loved ones, but there was that nagging feeling in the back of my mind wondering if this was all a sham, but yes, I finally stood.

However, as Barrera revealed other impressions he received, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with the possibility this reading was all too real. He knew my father’s personality, physical appearance, and what he would say to us. Perhaps the psychic could find some of this online, but there were other things he could not have known or located with a Google search. My father passed away before cell phones with video cameras and social media were around to broadcast our every move. A primitive Myspace was the popular platform when my father passed away. So, there weren’t any recordings of his voice or him talking anywhere online.

What proved even stranger— as if this wasn’t already extraordinary— was the two people I thought about before I left home to go to this event were the very souls that came through the strongest. My father, for one, and of course, you could easily assume I’d want to speak to my father, but the other spirit was even a surprise to me. I’ve lost many family members I was close to, so there was no reason for me to think of my father-in-law. The man passed away before I met my husband, but for some reason, impressions of this man popped into my mind right before I left the house. So even if the psychic could have somehow found out information about my family, he wouldn’t have known about the two people I hoped would come through for the reading? According to Barrera, my father wanted to introduce me to my father-in-law. Crazy, I know. According to Barrera, my father had quite a few souls with him, which I found comforting. Family and friends surrounded him.  

Everything considered I found the reading eerily fascinating. All I can say: It was an experience like none other.


The Gryphon and His Thief
Karen Michelle Nutt

Genre: paranormal/ shifter romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: June 15, 2022
ISBN: 978-1509241774
ASIN: B09VZS3LLZ
Number of pages: 220
Word Count: 57k
Cover Artist: Kristian Norris

Tagline: A gryphon shifter cursed for centuries encounters a thief who unearths his secret identity.  

Book Description: 

Darrien Andros, a gryphon sworn to protect humans is cursed to live forever, safeguarding the items in the Museum of Cursed Antiquities. His mundane life between the world of the living and turning to stone as the sun rises is disrupted when a thief attempts to steal Hecate’s Stone. He cannot eliminate her for her thieving ways. Not when she resembles his dead wife.

Cali Angelis, a thief for hire, needs Hecate’s stone for her client. Only Darrien makes her question her client’s motives. She’d like to think Darrien delusional, but she’s seen the unbelievable. 

Will they unravel the mysteries behind the stone before history repeats itself?




“Get a grip,” she warned herself. The gryphon didn’t blink his eyes. Yep, and it didn’t fly from the back room and station itself at the door, either. She gulped and leveled the beam of the flashlight on the statue once more. Only what stood there now was a man, a large man with dark hair, a beard neat and trim…and eyes that glowed like the gryphon’s eyes had.

“You cannot take the item from the museum,” the man’s deep voice boomed with authority meant to intimidate, and his words were flavored with a Greek accent. “You must return it immediately,” he finished the threat. Sure there had been no threat voiced, but she all but heard the ‘or else’ just as clearly as if the words had been spoken.  

“Who are you?” she countered, even though she had no right to inquire. Obviously, this man must be the night guardsman. Her gaze slid over his attire and frowned. He wore garments she’d only seen painted on Greek vases and paintings—an intricately designed tunic, a dark colored cloak, and gold sandals adorned his feet. Her one eyebrow lifted. Perhaps he was a thief who liked theatrics. She had an uncle who liked to dress like a caped superhero when he went on his jobs.  

She straightened her back and met the guy’s gaze head on. “I think you need to leave, or I’ll call the cops.” She pulled out her cell phone and lit up the screen to prove her point. The guy didn’t have to know she was bluffing. She didn’t want the cops here anymore than he probably did.

He didn’t quite react the way she thought he would. Oh no, he had the audacity to laugh, a deep guttural laugh. “You amuse me human woman,” he told her.

“Human woman?” Okay, this nut-job was off his meds. “Fine, you stay here, and this human woman will say good evening. It’s been a long day. I need to head back to my spaceship before E.T. calls home and tells Mom and Dad I’m late.”  

The man’s brows furrowed, deep creases marring his forehead. Maybe she loaded on the crapola a little thick. It was best to end this conversation and get out of Africa—as her father would say—and make like a cheetah on the hunt. She took a few cautious steps toward the front door.

“You will halt,” he demanded with his palm up as if his stance alone could stop her. 

Well, yep it did, for a full three seconds. She knew some self-defense moves, but this guy was built like he lifted weights in his sleep just so his bulk didn’t decrease in the middle of the night. It didn’t appear like the front door was an option, but… her gaze latched onto the window next to it. “Oh, hell.” She charged and prayed this old building hadn’t been refurbished with safety glass.

Otherwise, this stunt was really going to hurt.



About the Author:

Karen Michelle Nutt resides in California with her husband. Though her three children are grown and starting their own adventures, she still has a houseful of demanding pets.

When she’s not time traveling, fighting outlaws, or otherworldly creatures, she creates book covers at Gillian’s Book Covers, “Judge Your Book By Its Cover”.
Whether your reading fancy is paranormal, time travel or contemporary romances, all her stories capture the rich array of emotions that accompany the most fabulous human phenomena—falling in love.

Visit the author at her website: http://www.kmnbooks.com

Blog: http://kmnbooks.blogspot.com

Gillian’s Book Covers, “Judge Your Book By Its Cover”
http://judgeyourbookbyitscover.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorkarenmichellenutt

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KMNbooks

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/karenmnutt

Amazon Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/Karen-Michelle-Nutt/e/B002BLLBPE

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kmn_books

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/karen-michelle-nutt

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/karenmichellenutt  

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/karenmichellenutt

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/kmnbooks

IMDb: https://tinyurl.com/yy27qubr

 



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Giveaway – Unusual Light by J Elizaga @RoxanneRhoads @jelizaga1

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At Half Past Two

Our movie broke at half past two.
I begged Time to return to the black and white film
We lived in, with you by my side;
But the grand drapes stayed shut in silence and shock.
I closed my eyes and opened my mouth,
Mad about your sudden absence, with unrestrained outbursts
To a greedy God adored by millions. Only one adored me!
Had He really just snatched you away?
My mind kept restarting the movie before half past two.
Each time I waited for the roll to resume play
With you and me in high-definition color,
But tears blurred my vision and I couldn’t see you.
I kept moving your souvenirs back and forth,
With eyes unaware they should blink.
I struggled to savor each memory of you in my mind,
Flashing every second until my gut retched.
I followed your scent aimlessly through the house,
Before strength left my knees and I curled on the floor.
Then I saw my arms dance, caressing the air
Where you lay last night — I thought I heard you laugh.
Enough of this cruel joke. Stop it.
Come back. Please.


Unusual Light
J. Elizaga

Genre: Young Adult fantasy
Date of Publication: July 31, 2022 
ASIN: B0B85ZRPSZ
Number of pages: 86
Word Count: 20,000

Cover Artist: The Book Cover Designer

Tagline: A young engineer, a ghost, and a mystery at the morgue

Book Description:

How does one keep a promise to a ghost? Engineering student Ana Juliet (AJ) Diwa takes a summer job as a swing-shift security guard at a hospital morgue—the same morgue once investigated by the police for unusual calls received during full moons. And the calls happen only when Matt, a guard assigned to the overnight shift, is on duty.

AJ scoffs at the idea of otherworldly activities. But soon after, she witnesses a mysterious orb at the morgue. The orb reveals itself to be the ghost of Binni Almond, a teenager who went missing thirty years ago. Despite AJ’s shock, she befriends the entity. She vows to use her problem-solving abilities to find Binni’s family and solve the mystery of the young girl’s disappearance. But darker spirits are afoot.

As AJ descends to the morgue’s basement to capture evidence of Binni’s remains, Matt’s visions worsen. Evil spirits surge around the premises. And AJ is in danger of getting caught in the middle of a paranormal showdown.



Chapter 1: An Unusual Call

AT half past midnight, a public safety dispatcher received a familiar but unsettling call. Amid the static and crackle, a voice uttered, “Send help.”

The strange calls started nine months ago, and they always occurred on or near the full moon. The voice supplied only their first name and location. The caller’s name changed every month, but the location stayed the same—Shoreline Hospital morgue. The police officer who responded to the first dispatch spoke with Matt Faulson, the morgue’s overnight security guard. He denied dialing for assistance. The officer walked around the perimeter of the building and witnessed nothing out of the ordinary.

But after three monthly calls involving the same person on duty, the department assigned Officer David Jackson to patrol around the time of the full moon, when they estimated a call would occur. They suspected the twenty-seven-year-old Matt to be the prankster.

Police interviews failed to pin him. Instead, the detectives saw video footage of stationary objects moving randomly in various rooms in the morgue late at night.

The young man admitted to seeing strange activity during his shifts. Adding to the mystery, the city’s emergency dispatch system saved the calls, but the hospital had no record of any of their phones being used.

David arrived at the parking lot with another patrol car at 12:25 a.m. He saw a lone figure sitting on a bench near the morgue’s main entrance.

“Matt.” He approached the security guard with friendly caution. As the guard greeted him, the officer couldn’t help but notice the dark shadows under the young man’s eyes and the ruffled hair. “Man, you look terrible.”

Matt sighed. “There’s not a lot of sleep with the graveyard shift, as you know. I don’t like walking the floors between midnight and one a.m., but I took too long answering an email, and I forgot the time. I rushed through the hallways, and let me tell you, I had more than one sighting,” Matt said. “I guess you received a call?”

David nodded. “You have to get me in there one of these nights. I want to see for myself.”

“I’ll call next time. But I didn’t make the call tonight,” Matt replied. He stood up and prepared to go back in the morgue, but froze. “Oh.”

“What is it?” David asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the second officer took a defensive stance.

“A gray entity floated out of the wall to my left,” Matt said softly as he kept his head very still.

David looked as soon as Matt spoke. “I don’t see anything.” He glanced at the other officer.

“I don’t see anything either.”

“Really?” Matt asked as his shoulders dropped. He gingerly turned his head and looked. “Am I the only one who sees ghosts?”

“I’m beginning to believe that,” David replied.



About the Author:

J. ELIZAGA is a fan of science fiction and science mysteries. Born and raised in Manila, Philippines, she peered over her father’s shoulders as he watched TV shows such as In Search Of, and Carl Sagan’s Cosmos during the 1970s. 

J. lives in California. She wrote stories in high school but had set aside her hobby for college and career…until she attended a writer’s conference in San Francisco in 2010. The experience unsealed a door in her mind that she thought had long closed.

J. works in information technology by day, and makes time to write stories about humans who face extraordinary circumstances and discover their superhuman abilities. 











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Giveaway – The Ghost Circus by Deandra Archer @RoxanneRhoads @OnyxWebb

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Onyx Webb: The 31 Immutable Matters of Life and Death
Based on the original 10 book, 31 episode Onyx Webb series. 

Episode 1: 
“Should you one day discover you have both light and darkness inside you, do not despair. We all do. The only thing that matters is which you choose to act on.”

Episode 2
“We do not fear heights, we fear falling. Nor do we fear the darkness… but, rather, what we think may be lurking there. And in matters of life and death, we do not fear dying: only that it may be final.”

Episode 3
 “It is not important to know what fate awaits you beyond the living plane. All that matters is that you know there is a ‘there’ there.”

Episode 4
“The greatest temptation in life is to pursue everything that catches your eye. What matters is: Are you willing to pursue only that which captures your heart.”

Episode 5
“The universe is a blank canvas, and you are the paint. The only thing that matters is how much of yourself you are willing to splash upon it.”

Episode 6
“The universe is impressed when you find the courage to stand with others. What matters more, however, are the times you find the courage to stand alone.”

Episode 7
“Everything in the universe is temporary, yet everything lasts forever. And it does not matter if you believe this—it will be true with or without your consent.”

Episode 8
 “It is not the job of the universe to tell you what your destiny is. For that matter, no one is destined to become anything other than what they choose to become.”

Episode 9
“No matter how unfair the world may seem, the world is perfect just the way it is.”

Episode 10
 “Those filled with hate believe the edge of the universe is surrounded in darkness, while those filled with love believe it to be bathed in light. But what does it matter? Upon their deaths, both will discover they were correct.”

Episode 11
“Your forgiveness may not matter to those who harm you, but it was never intended for them anyway. It is a gift you give yourself.”
 
Episode 12
 “When you die, one of the following two things must be true. You are dead and gone, or you are dead but not gone. To settle the matter once and for all, as far as the Universe is concerned, we are never gone.”

Episode 13
“The desire to remain young matters most to those who do not realize that growing old is a privilege denied to many.”

Episode 14
 “Your dreams matter to you, but also to the universe. Do not let anyone who has given up on their dreams talk you out of yours.”

Episode 15
 “The world is filled with unspeakable evil, but it is also filled with unstoppable love. The only thing that matters—as long as there is one person with a single ounce of love in their heart—is that evil cannot win.”

Episode 16
“The thing that matters most in your final hours is that you do not find yourself crying and begging for more time. Only those who have failed to live fear death.”

Episode 17
“There is no such thing as a lifetime—only a series of moments strung together that matter to us that we call a lifetime. To miss these moments is to miss your life.

Episode 18
“The universe is not interested in your long list of casual wants. The only thing that matters is your short list of passionate desires.”

Episode 19
“No matter what you think or how you feel when times are tough, life is a precious gift. Just how precious is it? Don’t worry. You know when you’re dead.”

Episode 20
“If knowing every secret in the universe matters to you, your time on earth will be a disappointment. The number of secrets is infinite; the capacity to understand is not.”

Episode 21
“The best way to deal with matters of hate, jealousy, anger, fear, and regret is to be so busy living your life that you simply have no time for any of them.”

Episode 22
“It does not matter that you reach out to the universe. What matters is that you reach inside yourself.”

Episode 23
“The universe does not care if you are beautiful. What matters is that you surround yourself with that which is beautiful to you.”

Episode 24
 “Nothing in the universe is good or bad, big or small, hot or cold, up or down, right or wrong. The only thing that matters is the perspective of the observer.”

Episode 25
“If fulfilling your mission on earth truly matters, why have you yet to even start? And don’t say it is because you don’t know your mission. You have always known.”

Episode 26
“In matters of karma, the universe is excruciatingly fair. What goes around does indeed come around. But you must understand: the universe is under no obligation to ensure it comes around to you.”

Episode 27
“Thoughts don’t just matter. They are matter. In the same way that the moon tugs on the oceans, the gravity of your thoughts have pulled both things and people into your life.”

Episode 28
“The true wonders of the universe can be seen in three ways: through the lens of a telescope, the lens of a microscope, and—when it matters most—the lens of human understanding.”

Episode 29
“Every choice, large or small, matters more than you’ll ever know. In the end, your life will have been nothing more than a collection of your choices.”

Episode 30
“Show the universe what matters most to you, and the universe will show you… you.”

Episode 31
“The differences between us matter less than the ways in which we are the same, for in the end we come to understand we were all connected by the same frail web called life.”


The Ghost Circus: An Onyx Webb Supernatural Thriller
Diandra Archer

Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Publisher: Lust for Living
Date of Publication: July 26, 2022
ISBN: 978-1947814226 
ASIN: B0B7QVRLYK
Number of pages: 280
Word Count: 64,000
Cover Artist: Alex at https://www.nessgraphica.com/

Tagline: If You Think Life is Precious, Just Wait Until You’re Dead

Book Description: 

A ragtag traveling circus sits outside a small California town. Two hundred miles north, the rumors of Onyx Webb, a legendary ghost, are “alive and well” in the seaside hamlet of Crimson Cove, Oregon.

After mysterious deaths occur in both places, the FBI gets involved. By the time the circus travels to Crimson Cove, the little town is starting to unravel. It’s one thing to stop people from committing crimes, but how do you stop ghosts?



Onyx existed in a constant state of guilt over what she considered to be stealing the best years of Noah’s life. What some would call robbing the cradle or being what was currently called a cougar.

It was the opposite of the norm, in which men had a tendency to date and marry younger women.

When Onyx brought up the topic, Noah pointed out how it was no longer a big deal for couples to have differences in their age. “Age is just a number,” Noah would say, having pointed out the age difference between Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. “She’s like 15 years older than he is.”

First, Onyx had absolutely no idea who these people were since she never watched television. And the 15-year age difference paled in comparison to their ages since Onyx was 114 and Noah was still in his 30s.

The thing that made the age difference livable, no pun intended, was that ghosts appeared as the age they were on the day they died and returned as their perfect selves. No scars or blemishes or wrinkles. Even severed limbs reappeared.

She may have been 114 years old, but in terms of appearance, Onyx looked 39.

And as a ghost, she would be 39 forever.

Assuming she could get the energy.

Onyx watched as Noah took advantage of the last bit of daylight, shirt off—sweating and swearing when the rocks wouldn’t fit together—his skin glistening with sweat and red with color.

Onyx held up her hand and examined it. Unlike Noah’s, her skin was gray. Transparent.

When she held the hand up to her face, she could see right through it.

Unacceptable.

Tonight, she would go to the hospital and see if there was anyone whose time had come. If there wasn’t, she would go into town and look for an addict shooting up in a dark alley—the kind that could be found in all towns, even small ones like Crimson Cove.

She had no problem taking drug addicts. They were killing themselves, anyway. If they wanted to die, she was happy to help them along.

Those who were young and healthy? No. Onyx’s code would not allow it. They were off-limits.

And children? Never.

Onyx walked to the opposite side of the lighthouse and peered out toward the water, seeing thin red lines of red forming as the sun was being slowly swallowed by the ocean.

Soon it would be dark. It was time.


About the Author:

Diandra Archer is the pen name for professional speakers and best-selling authors, Richard Fenton and Andrea Waltz. Richard and Andrea have been entrepreneurs, writing and publishing non-fiction business books for over twenty years. Onyx Webb is their first fiction book series. They live in Central Florida with their cat Storey, and newly adopted senior dog, Peppers. Diandra Archer is a combination of both of their first names. 










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Giveaway – Hungry Business Maria DeBlassie @EnchantmentLL @RoxanneRhoads

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The Terrible Delights of Spooky Stories
 
I love scary stories. I’m also a total chicken. I grew up telling stories on the playground, huddled around trees or crawling into quiet places with friends to to listen to urban legends and frightening tales, from La Llorona to to Bloody Mary, to strange tales of a woman with the ribbon around her throat that literally held her head on to creepy dolls come to life the moment you closed your eyes to sleep at night…I couldn’t help myself. I devoured them!  
 
In class, we learned more about La Llorona (a figure that inspired my novella, Weep, Woman, Weep), Baba Yaga, and all sorts of spooky stories that gave me a good chill but were rather less terrifying than what I heard on the playground.
Of course, there was no better time to tell and listen to these stories than the fall, as the season slowly ripened into Halloween, the days got shorter, and the cool evenings and turning leaves were the perfect backdrop for stories that reminded us that there is more to this world than meets the eye.
 
I would come home from school filled up on those terrible tales and, after playing in piles of leaves in my backyard, would feel a growing sense of unease as the sun began to set and darkness took over. I was certainly grateful for the comforting presence of my dogs when darkness stole across the sky. The feelings were pushed away with dinner, in the cozy brightness of the kitchen and the warmth of family, but readily came back when I was tuckedin bed later that night.
 
Every creek, howl of wind, or cricket chirp sounded like aghostly footstep, theweeping woman, or all manner of supernatural threats. Mirrors were not to be looked in, when the sun went down. Windows must be closed at night, lest La Llorona find a way in. Blankets were to be tucked around you up to your chin to protect you from whatever might be lurking under the bed.
 
I felt would never fall asleep!
 
But, of course, I did. And with the coming sun, came the confidence of youth that there was nothing truly scary in this world and I went right back to the playground ready to consume more lurid and horrible tales. 
 
They were terrifying. They were also thrilling.  I couldn’t help myself—even when they gave me nightmares and my mom tried to get me to stop listening to these stories—they had this allure to me, pulling me into a world of the strange and gothic.
 
The feeling didn’t go away as I got older. Take, for example, the time I went trick o’ treating with a friend in middle school, one of the last times I would venture out on that childhood ritual. I was no stranger to haunted houses—there were plenty in my neighborhood. I livednext door to one and there was another a few blocks away that looked like something out of a gothic novel: big, dark, looming, and a story about a murder so strange and unexpected it devolved into its own neighborhood legend with everyone having a slightly different explanation for why the house just felt…off.
 
My friend and I were alone on the street and were doing our best to casually walk past the house, feeling very brave and very adult in our fairy costumes, proud of the fact that we could trick-or-treating unchaperoned. But once we neared that house, suddenly home felt so very far away, the other groups of Halloween revelers so very far away.  There was only the darkness surround us and the specter of that gina those before us. 
 
Then we heard something—a yip, a yell, from someone in the distance—and we screamed, running for the safety of my home.Gone were the bold, brave adults and in their place were two frightened children who wanted nothing more than the warm lights and safety of home. As it turns out, the noise we heard was from a bunch of wildpartiers, but it became so much morefrightening when it was disembodied and the shadows fed my imagination, as did all the terrible tales I’d been coming that season.
 
As scary as that was, and as silly as my friend and I felt in retrospect, there was no denying the fun we had, nor the deep sense of comfort we felt in returning to my house. That’s what scary stories do for us. They bring us home. We find catharsis in facing the darkness and making it out the other side. We appreciate the light where and when we can find it.  
 
Here I am now—still loving scary stories. Still a total chicken. Still ready for a good tale of terror…in the daylight. Still not looking in mirrors and closing all my windows at night. And I speed up whenever I have to walk by that haunted house, indeed any haunted house, less the specters inside think to invite me in.
 
That’s the beauty of these early childhood frights. They gave me a solid appreciate of the thrills of a good scary story and a healthy respect for the unseen worlds or even vibes I get that tell me a person or situation is more than meets the eye. 
 
This is why I tell spooky stories today. They reveal so much more about ourselves and the world around us than many an ordinary tale. From writing horror comedy about the terrors of dating in Hungry Business to the haunting wails of La Llorona in Weep, Woman, Weep, all my tales are inspired by the ordinary gothic all around us, pairing catharsis as we face the dark and find the light.  What do you love about scary stories?

MY REVIEW

Hungry Business by Maria DeBlassie is a quick read horror story with a little snark on the side. Dating during a zombie apocalypse is not and easy thing to do. Are you eating or being eaten? Do they have a heartbeat, even if half their face is missing? Will she be alone for the rest of her days? Is there any point in leaving the house? The cat in the window….

Hungry Business by Maria DeBlassie is an okay read and the cover does intrigue me.

2 Stars





Hungry Business: A Gothic Story about the Horrors of Dating
Maria DeBlassie

Genre: horror, comedy
Publisher: Kitchen Witch Press
Date of Publication: October 12, 2020
ASIN: B08L48MVHD
Number of pages: 20
Word Count: 4400

Tagline: Dating. It’s hungry business. 

Book Description:

Looking for love can be deadly…

A short story on the horrors of dating during a zombie apocalypse by bruja and award-winning writer and educator, Maria DeBlassie.

“Simple yet detailed, unique, and innovative. A brilliantly written little gem that is equal part creepy with the plague of walking dead and equal parts cozy with the hot chocolate and watching the neighbor’s cat.”

“Drawing parallels between the pitfalls of dating and dating in the zombie apocalypse, this short story packs a big world into a few pages.”

“Just the right size to occupy your time while waiting. I hope you find the humor I found.”

You know how it goes.

You go out, hoping to meet someone.

You wade through your fair share of brainless automatons, lifeless bodies, and ravenous undead, good at passing as human.

The more you go out, the less hope you feel and the colder your body gets.

But you keep at it.

All you need is one beating heart to match your own before yours stops pumping altogether.

How hard can it be to find one living, breathing human in a city full of bodies?

Dating.

It’s hungry business.

CW: Assault



He said he’d love to have you for dinner—but you are careful.

A woman has to be careful.  Never give them your address.  Don’t drink too much.  Be aware of your surroundings at all times.  Carry grave dirt to throw at them if they get too forward.  Be ready to run to the nearest safe space if needed.  The good news is that the Hungries, while persistent, are dumb as fuck (brain rot, you know) and slower than the sickness overtaking their bodies.  Unless, of course, they are well fed, which is rarely the case.

This one looks a little better, you think optimistically.

You sit across from each other at the dinner table.  The white tablecloth is as smooth and unblemished as his collared shirt.  He has dressed for the occasion, taking care to hide the evidence of his affliction as best he can (though truly there is only so much he can do with a missing ear and half a brain).  Still, the tuxedo and carefully applied makeup are enough to create the illusion of pumping blood beneath his pallid, blush-stained cheeks—in the right light. Which is another reason why you chose this place.  Candlelight can hide a multitude of sins.

His manners are studied and smooth, as if he has spent a lot of time practicing more human-like movements and behavior. You admire a man who makes that kind of effort.  He watches you as much as you do him, as if he is trying to remember what it was like to be alive. When you reach for your wine glass, so does he—only his thick decaying fingers almost crush the stem, whereas your nimble live ones carefully bring the dark red liquid to your mouth. You try not to notice how he stares at your lips—stained now from the wine—wondering, perhaps, how you taste. As it turns out, he does get a taste of you. You’ve been surreptitiously picking at a hangnail on your pinky finger—that’s how scintillating the conversation is—when you looked down and realize it is your whole fingernail that has come off.  You stare at it in horror, letting the truth of your situation sink in.  

At least he has the decency to wait until you’ve left the table before grabbing your napkin and stuffing your bloodied nail in his mouth.  A little color comes back into his face.  He groans in ecstasy.

Nice to know you could still have that effect on a man.




About the Author:

Maria DeBlassie, Ph.D. is a native New Mexican mestiza blogger, award-winning writer, and award-winning educator living in the Land of Enchantment. Her first book, Everyday Enchantments: Musings on Ordinary Magic and Daily Conjurings (Moon Books 2018), and her ongoing blog, Enchantment Learning and Living are about everyday magic, ordinary gothic, and the life of a kitchen witch. When she is not practicing her own brand of brujeria, she’s reading, teaching, and writing about bodice rippers and things that go bump in the night. She is forever looking for magic in her life and somehow always finding more than she thought was there.


Find out more about Maria and conjuring everyday magic at www.mariaddeblassie.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/enchantmentll

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Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mdeblassie.writer

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Playlist & Giveaway – Witch of the Cards by Catherine Stine @crossoverwriter @RoxanneRhoad

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Here’s the playlist I created for my paranormal historical romance, Witch of the Cards. 

It’s set in 1932, so I mixed in a couple of era classics having to do with witches, magic, and the ocean, where an epic battle takes place between the witches in my tale. Enjoy!


Deep, Wide Ocean – The Jezabels

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbAyUjclZgc

 

I Put a Spell on You – Nina Simone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDprYZ-tgiA

 

Alice Underground– Avril Lavigne

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMeiP69HlCM

 

Pennies from Heaven – Bing Crosby

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IFgC7JhVrM

 

Season of the Witch – Donovan

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAzTnsSgs2s

 

Heartless – The Fray version

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBTdJHkAr5A

 

Black Magic Woman – Santana

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyQUCYl-ocs


Cuban Love Song – Ruth Etting

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuXl6Rh3zPk


Hunting for Witches – Bloc Party

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmPNuruWMTA

 

Heavy Like a Witch – All Them Witches

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KhzvanE-O14

 

How Deep is the Ocean? – Brenda Lee

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R5Dpcm8_6Kw

 

Do You Believe in Magic? – Lovin’ Spoonful

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDYNuD4CwlI



Witch of the Cards
Catherine Stine

Genre: paranormal historical suspense
Publisher: Konjur Road Press
Date of Publication: March 16, 2016
ISBN 13: 978-0-9848282-6-5    
ISBN-10: 0-9848282-6-5
ISBN 13: 978-0-9848282-7-2  
ISBN 10: 0-9848282-7-3
Number of pages: 265
Word Count: 76K
Cover Artist: Mae I Designs

Tagline: Fiera was born a sea witch with no inkling of her power. And now it might be too late. 

Book Description:

Witch of the Cards is a supernatural romantic suspense set in 1932 on the Jersey shore. Fiera has left the Brooklyn orphanage where she was raised and works in Manhattan as a nanny. She gets a lucky break when her boss pays for her vacation in Asbury Park. One evening, Fiera and her new friend Dulcie wander down the boardwalk and into Peter Dune’s Tarot & Séance, where they attend a card reading. 

Fiera has an unsettling ability to sense future events and people’s hidden agendas. She longs to either find out the origin of her powers or else banish them because as is, they make her feel crazy. When, during the reading, her energies somehow bond with Peter Dune’s and form an undeniable ethereal force, a chain of revelations and dangerous events unspool. 

For one, Fiera finds out she is a witch from a powerful sea clan, but that someone is out to stop her blossoming power forever. And though she is falling in love with Peter, he also has a secret side. He’s no card reader, but a private detective working to expose mediums. Despite this terrible betrayal, Fiera must make the choice to save Peter from a tragic Morro Cruise boat fire, or let him perish with his fellow investigators. Told in alternating viewpoints, Fiera and Peter each struggle against their deep attraction. Secrets, lies, even murder, lace this edgy fantasy. 

From Lovers of Paranormal: “Interesting story of witches, deceit, secrets, romance and friendship. Fun and creative.”

Amazon     Amazon UK     Amazon CA     Amazon AU

iBooks      Kobo      BN      


Excerpt:

If I only had a week in this glorious beach town, I wanted to catch up with sleep and plunge into as many escapades as possible—even bewildering, outlandish ones.

We walked in, to the jangle of Mr. Dune’s door chimes. I skated around, ogling the floor-to-ceiling shelves brimming with leather-bound books on cosmic mysteries, spiritualism, and witchcraft. Two immediate standouts were Ten Ways to Practice Mentalism and Dona Bella, Memoirs of a Southern Witch. These were my fare, similar to a favorite book at the public library—a tome on dark magic. The most stirring part was about each witch dynasty having its own grimoire, a sort of magical recipe book. I had no clue as to why dark tales tickled me so, and often wondered about my taste.

Still, I read everything I could get my hands on, even boring books that drifted me right off to the Land of Nod. At my nanny job, I was so desperate for stories I even read the tedious articles about cooking and how to throw a proper cocktail party in Mrs. Cuthbert’s Reader’s Digest and Home Arts magazines.

 Mr. Dune strode toward us. His handsome aura and towering presence intimidated yet thrilled me. He was dressed in crisp, charcoal gray pants and a vest with a double-breasted pinstriped jacket. “Are you lovely ladies here for the séance?” He held out a long, elegant hand, studded with a silver ring. I barely collected my wits enough to shake it and nod. Dulcie’s hand whooshed out and hardly touched his before she clamped it protectively back to her side.

No doubt about it, he was the most striking man I’d ever seen. His thick mop of dark hair tapered into long sideburns, rendering his jawline a tad dangerous. I guessed he was in his mid-twenties. When his coffee-brown eyes gleamed at me, my breath caught, and a heat greater than any moonshine fired through me.

We paid the dime admission. He escorted us to a round, wooden table with lion-footed legs where we joined a heavyset older couple and a reedy gentleman with thin, blond hair. His lime-fizz eyes darted over to Dulcie, and then away. Two empty chairs still beckoned.

Dulcie looked terrified, so I smiled at her. She calmed enough to take a seat.

Mr. Dune strode to the window, loosened the crimson curtains, and lowered their heavy velvet over the windows, lending the already-pensive storefront a mystical aura. 

About the Author:

Catherine Stine is a USA Today bestselling author of paranormal, urban and historical fantasy. Witch of the Wild Beasts won a second prize in the Romance Writers of America’s Sheila Contest. Other novels have earned Indie Notable awards and New York Public Library Best Books. She lives in New York State and grew up in Philadelphia. Before writing novels, she was a painter and fabric designer. She’s a visual author and sees writing as painting with words. Catherine loves spending time with her beagle Benny, writing about supernatural creatures, gardening and meeting readers at book fests.

Learn more at catherinestine.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/crossoverwriter

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kitsy84557/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kitsy84557

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@catherinestine7

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorcatherinestine

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/catherine-stine

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1018139.Catherine_Stine

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Catherine-Stine/e/B001H9TXJC

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiYPFXTOO0EQ2XRW72PJiyw

Newsletter: https://catherinestine.com/wp/get-the-newsletter-contact-me/





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