R.A. Evans's Blog, page 21

Courtney Conant, Author of Blood Moon of Winter, Guest Blogs Tomorrow

The very talented Courtney Conant, author of The Blood Moon of Winter, will guest blog tomorrow.  Her piece, To Think or to Write? A way around writer's block is sure to strike a chord with readers. Please help me spread the word on her appearance here at R. A. Evans writes…

Win an e-book version of Asylum Lake

Over the course of the next several weeks I will be offering free e-book downloads of my debut thriller Asylum Lake to randomly selected followers who make comments here at R. A. Evans writes…

If you want to improve your chances of being selected, simply recommend this blog to your friends and when they register as a follower have them include a message with your name/email as the reason they found me and my dark musings online.  It's that easy!

Help me spread the word about the mysteries of Asylum Lake before the next dark chapter in the story – Grave Undertakings – hits the shelves in May.

From Start to Finish

I like a good challenge and have been thinking about various ways to stretch the limits of my own imagination.  Here's what I've com up with. For the next two days I will be accepting story starters and finishers on my blog. What's a story starter or finisher, you ask? It's one sentence – an important sentence. It's the first sentence or the last sentence to my next short story and I will share it exclusively on my blog.

All you have to do is comment on this post. Include your offered story starter or finisher (please indicate which it is) and your name and where you hail from. I will randomly select the story starter and finisher and try my best to come up with 3,500 words in between that ties it all together.

I'm up for this challenge…are you?

My very own "trailer" park…

My parents split when I was 10. My mom and I went from a big house on a private beach to the mean-streets of a trailer park.   It's been 20+ years since I left that home on wheels, but I still carry a piece of it with me today. I never knew we were poor. Mom never let on and I was too busy being a kid to understand.

As I started promoting my first novel Asylum Lake I toyed with the idea of creating video-teasers for them.  It occurred to me last night that I have quite the collection of these teasers – enough to finally open my own "trailer" park.  So without further adieu – welcome to the Dark Musings TRailer Park.

After the sudden death of his wife, Brady Tanner moves to the small Michigan town where he spent summers as a youth. But he soon learns that small towns can be stained by memories…and secrets too. As Brady is drawn into unearthing the secrets of the town and of the abandoned psychiatric hospital on the shores of Asylum Lake, he discovers a new love in an old friend. But there is an evil presence lurking beneath the waters of the lake. What is the source of this evil–and what does it want with Brady Tanner?

At the bottom of Asylum Lake – the unremembered are growing restless. Brady's search for answers intensifies as he and his companions pick up the trail of the illusive Dr. Wesley Clovis. As the mysteries surrounding the man's sinister plans begin to unravel, Brady is left to ponder just what could lead a man to such Grave Undertakings……

Welcome to Hell, an unincorporated stretch of land in Southeast Michigan. With an advertised population of  666 and a playful proclivity to garner attention from its infamous name,  nobody batted an eye when the self-proclaimed Prince of Darkness chose Hell to set up shop. But as business booms in his Soul Proprietorship, rumors begin to swirl. Who is this mysterious stranger and what is really being bought and sold behind the doors of The Devil's Pawn?

U.S. Air Marshal Liz Downie thought she had lucked out with her assignment – a half-empty red eye from London to the states. The passengers – an odd assortment of State Department staffers freshly plucked from the embattled U.S. Embassy in Iraq. These arent your usual friendly skies, however. Tucked into the passenger jet's shadowy cargo hold hides a secret the U.S. Military will do anything to protect – and Liz Downie everything to stop.

Where do you run when you are 33,000 feet up?

FLIGHT by R.A. Evans

Guest Blogger Daniel Audet's Sweet Inspiration

Sweet Inspiration



The ever elusive intangible.
Like the wind, no one knows where it comes from or where it goes.
Some might say that the best and worst of the human endeavor is, and has been, based on inspiration in one form or another.
As authors, we are inspired to write, often about the inspirations of real-life people, and, of our fictional characters. We've even written about this virtue, both good and bad, in animals. We describe with skilled literatic detail the exodus of events which led our word formed creations to the threshold of it, and beyond. Beginning scribes will often hear words of wisdom and experience from their more accomplished counterparts and peers telling them not to wait for it, to forge our thoughts onto the page daily, to rely on our technical skills and work ethic in support of our efforts to compose and complete masterpieces. And we do. Someway, somehow, functional bridges are built across the expansive gaps separating  those sweeping and torrential, yet beautifully golden moments from the foundational ones. We pray we might be hurled into fabled hurricanes of fear, pain, hatred, anguish and despair, of  hope, sacrifice, love and triumph each time we put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard. But, inspiration, being her own mistress, appears as she pleases, only when she is willing. As authors we live and die by her graces, her passion and tender caresses. We are destroyed by the torment of her dark heart and white hot scorn as she dances in the moonlight with someone else, somewhere else. We endlessly await the breath of life she imparts to our souls and minds and abilities and words. She has many faces and infinite forms. Our souls call out to her never knowing if she will come.



Or not.



I haven't always written but I've always been a writer. Blessed to have been a fearless dream chaser from day one, life for me has always been, and still is, a perpetual stream of raging moments wherein lay treasures of all the profound elements of life, in their purest sense. I have left hurried footprints in the sands of time and many a high speed full body imprint on the brick wall of life. Every second I exist I am inspired by what the next one will hold and inspired that I might live to enjoy it or fight through it in a hazy bloodbath of negativity.
Nature in all her fury has unspeakable beauty. The walls of the pit of despair are lined with scrawled messages of hope and testimony. Love – the crystalline thrill of it in the eyes and voice of someone familiar, defined by the endless trek to reach them. Haunting and horrific screams of the damned shattering the virgin stillness of the night. A brand new moment of discovery in the heart of a child. Shadows of dusk and darkness gasping as a blazing burnt orange sun plunges behind the shoulder of a snow capped summit. The stinging rain of a summer thunderstorm. The classic peacefulness of strolling the ocean shoreline at dawn. A soft bed and warm blankets. Sitting in chair on the back porch doing nothing. Walking out to the mailbox on a sunny day. The face of death or the eternal visage of life reflected in the glimmer of every molecule. In all, inspiration lives, though it may not be in the form of an answered prayer or even something we might understand.
There is hope in every moment of fear and fear in every moment of joy. Confidence rises like a phoenix behind the smoldering pyre of doubt and uncertainty. Despair blows like a frigid arctic winter wind against the doors of our homes of peace, while we yearn for the certainty of spring. Within every breath is the desire for the next, every thought the dream of another. Gems of revelation and insight litter the landscape of  all that we see and hear and think and feel, all that we know or will ever know. Not one of us is ever really a stranger to, nor are we abandoned by that which we are told and therefore perceive comes from outside of us. It does not. It is always within us, always at our finger tips, always in the next breath and thought. Always.
Stop and examine the myriad of  precious stones you have routinely tread upon. Pause between breaths or blinks of your eyes. Savor the gift of utterance to a loved one. Suddenly in a blinding flash all around you will be the very thing you only knew to wait for. You will overflow with it, you will infuse your characters, narration, description and dialogue with it, and because of it. Imagination too, requires the lifeblood of inspiration to keep it alive, just so you know.



Happy and so very grateful to have returned from countless green pastures and bloodstained battlefields both in my mind and those which literally cover the earth I reach into myself, through myself, and beyond myself knowing I am never far away from nor will it be long until I find – Sweet Inspiration.

Still time to join the discussion on Goodreads!

 

Ever wish you could have the author take part in your book discussion group? Now is your chance. I am offering free shipping on my debut thriller – Asylum Lake – and you can take advantage. Simply order your copy and dive into the mystery of Asylum Lake. Sign up to be a member of the discussion group and then join me and other readers.

CLICK HERE to sign up!

Read what group members are saying about Asylum Lake!

Jennifer Place's review
Jan 30, 11

status: Read from January 27 to 30, 2011

The first thing that intrigued me about this book – even before the synopsis – was the cover art. I don't know why, but it captured my interest immediately. I have a book "problem" and have endeavored to stop spending so much money on them and be more selective in my choices but this one I had to have.

I finished it this afternoon and it was a good, entertaining and quick read (quick despite having a three year old. If it's less than a week to finish, I consider that "quick" these days).

Great premise. Great characters. Witty dialogue. I loved the mystery in the story and needed answers to the story. I'm looking forward to reading more by Mr. Evans for certain.

My only complaint – and it's certainly not much of one – is the end felt a little rushed to me. This isn't entirely a bad thing because I felt myself rushing as I was reading, trying to find out how the story would end. So the story's pacing sort of fell in with my own frantic need to know what was going to happen to the characters I had really begun to enjoy.

 

Charlie's review
Jan 26, 11

bookshelves: horror

status: Read from January 23 to 25, 2011


In the spirit of full disclosure, I must confess I was originally drawn to this book for two reasons: it is set in Michigan, the place where I born and grew up and it's horror. Little did I know, I'd discover another connection, that to Seattle, where I now reside. If this wasn't enough to give me a shiver, the story of Asylum Lake certainly was! Beware, you might not want to read right before turning off the lights and going to bed. Too scary? Not for me! This is exactly the kind of mysterious paranormal horror I love to read. The characters attract tragedy and death. At first, they seem like a very unfortunate lineage, but as this mysterious thriller unfolds you will be enlightened to the purpose behind the events.

For those from the 'mitt' you will like the authentic setting and subtle humor. I had to chuckle at the Up North House. Any true Michigander goes up north for vacation because south would lead to Chicago. I can not think of a better setting for this tale to take place than on a secluded lake in northern Michigan, whether it is on a hot, muggy summer night or a cool, breezy fall day, viewing an abandoned state asylum would be enough to scare even the toughest Mid-Westerner.

Another interesting aspect, and I'm certain this is the case with many small towns, is our fascination with old crime stories. I appreciate how influential cases are sited by the author (whether they are real or not) and work to draw a connection from past to present. This grounds the paranormal making it believable, which in my opinion is a key element to escalating the horror level. Getting a reader to imagine that an event truly could or did happen is essential. Old crimes and cases don't die in places like Bedlam Falls. One thing you can count on is people will certainly remember what happened but might forget the details. By making use of this human tendency, Evans creates a creepy mystery. Circumstances similar to the one surrounding the characters of Asylum Lake become legends in towns like Bedlam. Stories permanently attach to the land, they seep in and hibernate until the next thaw. Brady brings the thaw, but why and how? Well, I'm not going to give that away! I can't wait to read the next book and learn more about what happened to Lionel and Dr. Clovis!

The Blizzard of 2011

Turn on any channel and everyone's talking about the blizzard.  Local talking heads are calling for 10-16 inches of snow over the next 36 hours and people are streaming into the grocery stores to stock up on all of the necessities. It really is great theater!

So how am I preparing for this blizzard, you ask? By writing, of course! The very kind folks at www.indiehorror.org are currently seeking short stories for their first Cannibal Cook-off Writing Contest.  I've been waiting for just the right inspiration to sink my teeth into this contest and this storm is sure to provide it!

I encourage you to visit Indie Horror and discover all that they have to offer. I'll be submitting my piece for the Cannibal Cook-Off in the next few days and will surely tease it here.

 

Sir, you need help?!?

It happened again – my imagination got the best of me.  I was at the grocery store yesterday enjoying my weekly people watching excursion and picking up a few random items (beer and Funyons) when I found myself by the meat counter.

My father was a butcher and for some reason I am always drawn to this area of the grocery store.  I can vividly recall the reality of life, death, and the joy of being atop the food chain being played out in great detail inside my father's butcher shop. Hell, during hunting season I would also come home from school to find deer strung up in our garage at home ready to be dressed. On more than one occasion I was scolded for my bloody footprints leading into the house.

I digress – grocery shopping. Behind the meat case was an older woman grinding beef. The steel grinder looked ancient. With each rotation of its metal arm chunks of animal flesh would spill out. I was silently watching this woman work when it happened.

"Do you ever worry about someone coming up behind you and forcing your hand into the grinder as you work?"  The words were out of my mouth before I even realized what i was asking – a thought spoken aloud.

The woman looked up from her work, startled by both my presence and the question.  I tried my best PR smile to cover my awkward words; she wasn't buying it, however.

"Clint," she called anxiously taking a step back from the grinder and letting some of the meat fall to the floor. " Through the swinging doors behind where she stood, leading to where the real work in a butcher shop takes place, strolled quite possibly the largest man I have ever seen. Clint leaned down as the woman whispered something into his ear. I could only imagine what she was saying.

Clint nodded as the woman stole one final glance in my direction before walking through the swinging doors. y attention diverted by her hasty retreat, I failed to notice Clint's approach. "Sir, you need help?!?"

He was standing at the counter, over-sized hands resting atop the meat case's shiny surface.  I couldn't tell if his words were a question or a statement. Unsure of how to respond, I merely smiled and nodded as I proceeded to wheel my squeaky cart away from the meat counter.

I'm not sure if I will be welcome back at that meat counter, but the experience did make for a fruitful night of writing. And, something tells me that woman will never again operate that meat grinder without worrying about who might be lurking behind her.

Proud to Welcome Author/Radio Host Daniel Audet as a Guest Blogger

On Wednesday, February 2nd Daniel Audet will be gracing this blog-space with his pearls of wisdom. For those how are unfamiliar, Daniel is an aspiring commercial action/adventure/thriller  author also dabbling in blogging, poetry and song lyrics. You might even  hear him on the radio some night doing his talk show.

 

Help me make Daniel feel welcome and please check out his blog HERE.

 

Another Rave Review For Asylum Lake

Asylum Lake continues to win over new fans. CLICK HERE for the latest review from Bitsy Bling Books.