Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 256

A Bewitching Tuesday

Why Paranormal? Guest Blog - Custodian by Montana Ash #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/TRZS30iesG7

Enchanter Redeemed by Sharon Ashwood #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/GazY30ienMj

DEFINING HUMAN by Candace Blevins #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/MvUO30iemMb

EXCERPT - Storm Crossed (Grim Series, #4) by Dani Harper
https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blog...

Freaky Franky by William Blackwell #Horror William Blackwell #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Vz6230ienWT

Drinking the Knock Water: A New Age Pilgrimage by Emily Kemme - Excerpt - Giveaway! #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Axn530iemVR

Defining Human Excerpt & Giveaway!
#bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/vFzH30iesLq

Spotlight - The Black Sheep Shadow by Ashley Terrell #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/qaXH30iemB5

Farraway Mist by Tani Hanes #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Kxdk30ieszn

Book Tour & Giveaway: Freaky Franky by William Blackwell #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/2F2Q30ienYO

Giveaway: A Year in the Life of Dr. Fox by Frederick L. Malphurs #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/pH1C30iemtL

Watch the Book Trailer for The Black Sheep Shadow by Ashley Terrell ~ #Memoir #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/K0yy30iemzF

Dead Girls Don't Sing by Casey Wyatt Book Tour and Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/a9Mg30iemGB

The Black Sheep Shadow by Ashley Terrell #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/ymoN30iemCt

Spotlight, Book Trailer, & #Giveaway ~ A Year in the Life of Dr. Fox Frederick L Malphurs #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/kFlz30iemrG

Book Reviewers Wanted
Request your review copies here:
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Why Paranormal? Guest Blog - Custodian by Montana Ash

When I tell people I write in the paranormal and fantasy romance genre, one of the first questions I get asked is; ‘Why?’ For those of us who love all things paranormal, fantasy or supernatural, this may sound like a rhetorical question. Or the immediate answer that springs to mind is; ‘Why not paranormal?’. But for others, the appeal with this incredibly popular and successful genre remains a mystery. So sad, I know! I even know some secret readers – I’m sure many of you do as well. Those readers who indulge in shapeshifters, vampires and werewolves in private but in public; deny, deny, deny … boggles the mind! So, in light of that perpetual question; ‘Why paranormal?’ I decided to give it a bit more thought. Unsurprisingly, the answers to that question are as many and as diverse as the incredibly awesome genre itself.
For me, the most immediate and perhaps the most important reason is … freedom. As a writer, to have the freedom to make real anything I can imagine – and trust me, I can imagine a lot – is such a wonderful luxury. Not only am I allowed to let my rampant daydreams of alpha males with wings the colour of midnight and eyes the colour of aged whiskey run free, but it is expected, welcomed and even celebrated. A group of ancient knights with the birthright to protect and serve magical beings who have power over the elements? Bring it! Demons who have angels for their guardians? Right on! Just when you think you have read it all, an amazing paranormal mind spits out a whole new world. Such glorious freedom for authors and readers alike.
But what does this freedom to create and celebrate the unique and the surreal actual achieve to make us come back again and again? That’s an easy one – escape. The magical world of witches, mages and elves lets us escape from the real world for just a little while. Bills, dirty dishes, deadlines – all forgotten with the turn of a page and a witch wielding a spell to cast the evil out of the fey forest. And for those readers out there who happen to be single (or not so single – no judgement here), the ability to escape with a hot sexy vampire whose sole reason for being is to make his mate feel happy, respected, loved and very, very satisfied? Escapism at its best! Buffy totally had the right idea!
What’s more, the sheer variety available in this genre never fails to astound me. The term paranormalis flexible enough to encompass fantasy, science fiction, urban and even young adult. Talk about versatility! A genre that anyone at any age can read? Yes, please! As an author, this flexibility really makes me grin. It means I don’t need to pigeon-hole myself or even target a specific audience if I don’t want to; it’s all about pleasing the masses after all. Come one, come all; magic awaits to motivate teenagers to become avid readers, a tickle of erotic fantasy awaits to inspire adults on a rainy night, and sci-fi space cowboys await geeks to satisfy their geekdoms! Now don’t get me wrong, some – even most of the time – an author does write to a targeted audience. Exhibit A: please don’t let your fourteen-year-old read page 258 of my first book! My point however, is that I can target young adults next book, or men only, or geeks only without having to change my genre. The paranormal genre endures! Freaking cool! 
So we have freedom of the mind, escape from the hum-drum, and variety in spades. We have heroes and heroines, mystery and danger, good vs evil.  That ultra-cool chick who is prophesised to save the world and that leading man destined for greatness … seriously, what more can a human brain ask for?
The superpowers and the magical bling that the paranormal can bring us hits every chord with me as a reader and as a writer. So when people ask me; ‘Why paranormal?’, I respond; for fun, freaky and freeing times! Because I love to write what I love to read … and I do love to read!
If I could add one more thing, it would be my advice for readers out there who aren’t yet sold on the paranormal genre, or for those who find themselves sitting there and thinking; ‘Really? A five-foot-nothing redhead who can read minds, see souls and control the elements?’

Just go with it!  

CustodianElemental PaladinsBook FiveMontana Ash
Genre: Paranormal/fantasy romance
Publisher: Paladin Publishing
Date of Publication: January 20th, 2017
ISBN: 978-0-6482396-1-1ASIN: B07874BLBD
Number of pages: 310Word Count: 81,328
Cover Artist: LKO Designs
Tagline: Ancient knights … with a modern twist!
Book Description:
Max has finally found everything she never dared dream of; family, friends, and love with a man who does terrifying things to her independence. She has more to lose than ever before. With lines being drawn in the sand and sides being chosen, the future from her nightmares seems set in motion. Max is terrified – feeling the weight of her Order’s lives on her shoulders. But she’s also resolute, because she’s calling do-over on their entire society!
Ryker had been a miserable bastard for years before Max stumbled into his life and turned his whole world upside down. Months ago, she arrived and offered him everything he swore he would never want or need. Now there was no question; he was blissfully whipped. But who would have thought that winning Max’s heart wasn’t the real fight?
With the rot at the centre of their society uncovered and the hidden threat identified, Max and Ryker must unite all – wardens, paladins, rangers, and chades – if they are to defeat their common enemy.
But hey, with a Goddess on their side, how hard can it be?   
Amazon     BN
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Excerpt: "We totally crushed that. High five," Max wheezed out, holding her hand up.Despite his exhausted and satiated state, Ryker laughed, raising his hand high enough to give her a companionable slap before grinning at her."What?" Max asked.Ryker shook his head, "Nothing. It’s just you. You are so awesome."Max snorted, stretching languidly and causing his idiotic body to stir once more, "I could have told you that.”"I know you could. But it loses a little something when you say it yourself," he informed her. Max rolled her head to look at him once more, "I've never found that to be true.”Her words caused him to snort out another laugh, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

The shock of seeing so many bodies had reality returning swiftly and the ramifications of what she was about to do had bile rushing to her throat. “This can’t be why I was made,” Max whispered, turquoise eyes desolate as she watched the writhing mass of evil bodies in the distance. She didn’t see Ryker move but he was suddenly in front of her, cupping her face in his large hands. His russet eyes held hers captive as he spoke;“It’s not. You were made for me.” His lips brushed hers, once, twice, and a third time. The kiss was soft and sweet as if they had all the time in the world. Max was still a little out of breath when he pulled back, despite the leisurely pace. She stood up on her toes so she could wrap her arms around Ryker’s neck, smiling and shaking her head; “How does the man who called me a liar and told me I looked like shit, always know the exact right thing to say now?” she asked, absently playing with the hair on his nape.
Ryker grinned, “I’m complicated.”

About the Author:
Montana is an Aussie, self-confessed book junkie. Although she loves reading absolutely everything, her not-so-guilty pleasure is paranormal romance. Alpha men – just a little bit damaged – and feisty women – strong yet vulnerable – are a favourite combination of hers. Throw in some steamy sex scenes, a touch of humour, and a little violence and she is in heaven! She is a scientist by day, a writer by night, and a reader always!
Facebook author page- https://www.facebook.com/montana.ash.author/
Fangirling group – Montana’s Maniacs-https://www.facebook.com/groups/montanasmaniacs/
Newsletter sign-up – Montana’s Memos http://eepurl.com/cWfNKP
Website http://www.montanaash.com/
Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/author/montanaash
Twitter @ReadMontanaAsh
Goodreads page https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14661560.Montana_Ash

Review - Five Fangs for Nine of Stars by Laura Bickle

Nine of Stars by Laura Bickle
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This series just keeps getting better.

Nine of Stars introduces us to a new monster, SkinFlint Jack who is hunting wolves, that are more than wolves. Where did this monster come from? In this series just about all roads lead to Alchemy.

Petra and Gabe know magic is involved so they go on the hunt to take down Jack in the middle of a blizzard while being chased by an insane sheriff who thinks Gabe is responsible for his cousin, Sal Rutherford's, death. This frozen trek is quite a nail biting adventure filled with twists, turns and many revelations. The one I found most interesting relates to Sig.

The book focuses on four main characters- Nine, the wolf, Petra, Gabe, and Owen the Sheriff and cousin to Gabe's deceased boss, Sal Rutherford.

Owen's story is quite interesting because he's discovering magic and monsters for the first time, even though he has a ghost that follows him around.

Nine is obviously more than just a wolf, her story adds depth and a touch of sadness.

Petra and Gabe's relationship gets deeper with each book. Their love grows and the bond between them becomes more intense, even though both of them are rather clumsy with love. Petra has a no nonsense approach to relationships and isn't sure what to do with it. Gabe's experience is from over a century ago and he's not exactly sure how to handle a modern woman. But they make it work even with all the obstacles put in their path.

The end....wow. I'm so glad I waited to read Nine of Stars until the next book was available because after that ending I can jump right into Witch Creek, the next book in the series.


Nine of Stars is simultaneously the third book in the DARK ALCHEMY trilogy (Dark Alchemy and Mercury Retrograde) and the first installment of the WILDLANDS series. I highly recommend reading Dark Alchemy and Mercury Retrograde so you know the full story before jumping into Nine of Stars.

View all my reviews

A Bewitching Monday

An interview and press release with Author William Blackwell, Author of Freak Fanky: Santa Muerte followers discover the horrifying consequences of worshipping with evil intentions. #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/fFTF30icDhx

Guest Blog "Farraway Mist" by Tani Hanes #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/jett30icDfg

Interview Storm Crossed by Dani Harper and Giveaway
https://viviana-mackade.blog/2018/02/...

Custodian by Montana Ash #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/8MV730icCIk

Drinking the Knock Water: A New Age Pilgrimage by Emily Kemme #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/9AOn30icDbv

Enchanter Redeemed by Sharon Ashwood #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/3JZ330icDcU

Series Spotlight & Giveaway: Ages of Invention by S.B.K. Burns #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/GikC30icCL0

A Year in the Life of Dr. Fox by Frederick L. Malphurs #thriller #action #adventure http://teatimeandbooks76.blogspot.com...

A War has been Brewing in the Shadows. Blood Awakening by Miranda Nichols. #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/bI1130icD4x

Ages of Invention Books One and Two by S.B.K. Burns #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/A6uB30icCVg

Spotlight & #Giveaway ~ Blood Awakening (Immortal Sleepers Series, Book One) by Miranda Nichols #FantasyRomance Miranda Nichols #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/pobA30icD6c

Book Spotlight & #Giveaway ~ Into Nostra (The Pact, Book 2) by Brantwijn Serrah ~ Supernatural Adventure ~ @Brantwijn #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/GmjE30icDjn

Book Reviewers Wanted
Request your review copies here:
https://goo.gl/forms/vJflYYyPlykiLEiB2

Moonshine Madness - Freaky Franky by William Blackwell

Moonshine Madness
I’m fortunate enough to be in the peacefulness of the country on Prince Edward Island. I live in a 130-year-old-home on forty-five acres that includes a beautiful forest, almost 1300 feet of oceanfront, and a spectacular beach. The area is rich in history, ghost, pirate, and moonshine folklore. Needless to say, my surroundings and the abundant legendary tales have inspired many horror novels.

After I moved in about five years ago, it didn’t take me long to discover that my home was home to one of the biggest moonshine manufacturing and distribution facilities on the Island. I found old ornate bottles, copper tubing and other evidence of moonshine stills; even full bottles of the home-made hooch hidden deep in the forest.

Prohibition on PEI, a temporary wartime measure, was enacted from 1918 to 1920, but alcohol was actually illegal here from 1901 to 1948. During Prohibition, John, the now-deceased previous owner of my home, manufactured and sold moonshine—not only throughout PEI, but also transported it to the United States via the waterways.

As I got to know the neighbors, I heard many stories about John. Although everyone knew moonshine was one of his biggest tickets, and word had it he frequently indulged in drink, nobody had a bad word to say about him. “He would give you the shirt off his back,” one local said. “He was one of the kindest men I’ve ever met,” said another. “He endangered his own life pulling my father out of a ditch during a nasty snowstorm.”

Soon I got to know Bob, John’s affable son-in-law, who had married John’s daughter and lived in the old house for a number of years before the young couple could become financially independent. Bob would drop by periodically out of the blue (it’s what they do here), and entertain me with colorful stories of his past. On a hot sunny day we sat on the back porch swilling moonshine. Fascinated by Bob’s stories, I listened with rapt attention.
One day, he said, he was returning home from a moonshine delivery (John was generous enough to incorporate Bob into the family business) and was having trouble staying on the road. Entertaining clients, he had sampled more than his fair share of the fine and potent hooch. Finally, he did manage to find his driveway, but had a little trouble navigating the entry to the double-car detached garage. He crashed the truck through the wall of the garage, partially destroying it.

“I managed to get myself out of the garage, uninjured, and get up to bed,” Bob said. “But I left the damaged truck embedded in the garage.”

And waking the next morning with a hangover fit for a moonshine delivery driver, Bob was sure he would get a well-deserved tongue-lashing from John.

 “But do you know, John never mentioned a word to me about it,” he said, between sips. “Not a word. He wasn’t even angry, or at least if he was he never let on.”

Bob’s demeanor grew serious as he relayed another story, one that would send a cold chill up my spine. He and John had made arrangements with another party for a moonshine delivery. They meticulously packed and transported the order to the waterfront, about three-quarters of a mile from the house, where they were to meet the moonshine buyers in a boat. Something went wrong that resulted in the two parties exchanging gunfire.

“It got a little ugly,” Bob said, his creased complexion whitening. “That’s all I can tell you.”
I was silent for a long minute, wondering: People were shooting at one another? That means someone could have gotten killed. If someone was murdered, where were they buried? 

Who’s buried in the back-forty? My back-forty.



With an unsteady hand, I drained my shot of moonshine and stood up, telling myself repeatedly that discretion is the better part of valor. Did I really want to know? “What a beautiful day,” I said. “Let’s have another drink and talk about your lovely wife, Betty.”
Handing me his empty glass, Bob’s face brightened. “Such a lovely woman,” he said. “God rest her soul.”

To read more musings from a meandering mind, please visit my website. You’ll also be able to download a FREE copy of horror novel Resurrection Point. Thanks for stopping by.




Here’s the link:  http://www.wblackwell.com/free-ebook/

Freaky FrankyWilliam Blackwell
Genre: Horror
Publisher: Telemachus Press
Date of Publication: December 3, 2017
ISBN: ISBN-10: 1945330945ISBN-13: 978-1945330940ASIN: B077X41V9J
Number of pages: 326Word Count: 66323
Cover Artist: Johnny Breeze
Tagline: Santa Muerte followers discover the horrifying consequences of worshipping with evil intentions.
Book Description:
When an enigmatic town doctor saves the life of Anisa Worthington’s dying son, she abandons Christianity in favor of devotion to the cult of Santa Muerte or Saint Death. Some believe the mysterious skeleton saint will protect your loved ones; help in matters of the heart; provide abundant happiness, health, wealth and justice. But others, including the Catholic Church, call it blasphemous, evil and satanic.
Anisa introduces Saint Death to troubled Catholic friend Helen Randon and strange things begin happening. One of Helen’s enemies is brutally murdered and residents of Montague, a peaceful little town in Prince Edward Island, begin plotting to rid the Bible belt of apostates.
Anisa suspects Helen is perverting the good tenets of Santa Muerte but, before she can act, a terrible nightmare propels her to the Dominican Republic in search of Freaky Franky, her long-lost and unstable brother, who mysteriously disappeared without a trace twenty years ago.
To her horror, Anisa learns Freaky Franky is also worshiping Santa Muerte with evil intentions. As a fanatical and hell-bent lynch mob tightens the noose, mysterious murders begin occurring all around Anisa. Unsure about who’s an enemy and who’s an ally, she’s thrust into a violent battle to save her life as well as the lives of her unpredictable friends and brother.
Amazon     Amazon.ca     BN      Author Website
                                                 PROLOGUE
I’m sick of being poor. Estella Mendoza peered out the misshapen window of her ramshackle home on the outskirts of the small city of Nacozari in Sonora, Mexico. All she saw was a barren and scorched landscape, the sun setting in the distant, bleak horizon. Her stomach was knotted by more than just hunger pangs. A sense of frustration and hopelessness was giving birth to desperation. A fly buzzed around her head and landed on her cheek, which was leathered, lined, and pock-marked by the cruelty of Mother Nature. Time had not been kind to her. She smacked her face hard, squashing the pesky fly and smearing its blood and guts across her face and hand.            “Got you, you son of a bitch,” she said in Spanish, wiping her palm on the knee of her dirt-stained, torn jeans. She ignored the fly remains on her cheek, moving away from the screenless and paneless window and rummaging through dusty cupboards for a morsel of food. Nothing. A grease-stained, dented fridge door hung open, a small bowl of rice the only thing resembling nourishment on the otherwise empty shelves. Flies circled the rice, at times dive-bombing in for a small stale snack. Bending down, she reached inside, waved the flies away, and picked up the small bowl. Looking around the cluttered kitchen counter, she found a dirty spoon, wiped it on her tattered white t-shirt and, sidestepping debris littering the dirt floor, walked over to a green plastic lawn chair, weathered by the elements and cracking in various spots.            As she sat down, a brittle leg snapped, catapulting her headfirst into a wooden wall. The rice bowl flew out of her hands, shattering against the wall and showering her head with rice and shards of glazed earthenware. She hit the ground ass-first and groaned. “You son of a bitch.” Dazed, she rubbed a small goose egg beginning to sprout on her forehead. Realizing she still clutched the spoon, she flushed and flung it against the door. With a metallic clang, it bounced off the door and skipped along the floor, stopping a few inches from her outstretched feet. Her face tightened and she reached for it, with the intention of throwing it clear out the window.            A knock on the door stopped the arc of her arm. “Who is it?”            From the other side, she heard a female voice say in Spanish, “It’s me. Are you busy?”            Estella recognized the voice. Alejandra Rivera, her friend for over twenty years. Alejandra lived a few blocks away and in Estella’s view, she had everything. A middle-class home, a wonderful working husband, and a ten-year-old devoted and well-behaved son. Where Estella had famine, poverty, and despair, Alexandra had an abundant food supply, an income stream, love, and hope. Poison tentacles of jealousy and resentment coursed through Estella’s dazed mind. “What do you want?”            “I brought you refried beans. And rice.”            Estella got to her feet. “Come in.”            The door opened and Alexandra entered. “What happened?” she asked, concern furrowing her brow as she examined Estella and the accident scene.Estella pointed to the shattered remains of the plastic chair leg. “It broke and sent me flying.”“I’m sorry,” Alexandra said, putting the white bowl of beans and rice on a cluttered kitchen table and rushing to her friend’s aid. She escorted Estella to a nearby wooden chair, which looked slightly less dangerous than the offending plastic one, and sat her down. The chair creaked and groaned, but held.Alexandra produced a plastic spoon from a blue apron attached to her white dress and handed it to Estella. “Eat. It’ll do you good.”Estella peeled the plastic wrap from the spoon, tossed it on the floor apathetically, and stabbed the spoon into the food. A wave of dizziness swept over her and she waited a moment for her head to clear before digging in. She quickly shoveled three spoonfuls into her mouth and swallowed them, hardly chewing.Alexandra looked at the bump on Estella’s head and searched her friend’s eyes concernedly. “Are you okay?”Between mouthfuls, Estella said, “Yeah, just a little bump.”“Well, be careful.” As Estella ate, Alexandra approached the kitchen counter and began cleaning up, throwing food wrappings into a nearby wastebasket and neatly piling dirty dishes next to the sink. It wasn’t the first time she’d helped her starving friend by bringing her food and cleaning her humble abode.“You don’t have to do that.”Alexandra spun around and looked at Estella cheerily. “It’s not a problem. And look at you, you’re in no shape to do it right now.” She resumed cleaning, turning her back to Estella.A blind rage—a dark and hateful energy—seethed through Estella’s veins. My chance. Now’s my chance. Before she even realized what she was doing, she leapt from the chair with a vitality and vigor she never knew she possessed, grabbed a hatchet, and rushed toward Alexandra. As Estella swung the hatchet, Alexandra turned around. Her jaw dropped in shock and horror as she looked at Estella with fear-filled brown eyes.The hatchet sliced into Alexandra’s throat, blood spraying Estella’s face and body. Two more swings and she’d chopped Alexandra’s head clean off. The decapitated head dropped to the floor, rolled into the front door, and stopped. Almost as if she were pursuing her head, Alexandra’s headless body convulsed and, spewing blood like a lawn sprinkler, staggered to the door. She crashed into it and slumped to the ground, outstretched hands frantically reaching for her head for a second or two before growing still.Estella put the hatchet on the kitchen counter and wiped her bloody face with a soiled dishrag. She sat down at the kitchen table and continued eating. She glanced at the lifeless head and body of her one-time friend. “By the way, thanks for the food.”Two hours later, when night had blanketed the day, Estella clutched Alexandra’s head in both hands. She danced around a small skeleton statue, sprinkling blood on and around the shrine. Satisfied with her efforts, she put the head next to the statue, lit a candle, and placed it next to the skeleton. She knelt down and began praying for abundance. In the suffused candlelight, the skeleton saint’s hollow eye sockets glittered and glowed. Its grin seemed to mock her efforts and she realized there was more work to be done.In the month that followed, Estella beheaded two ten-year-old boys, one of them her grandson, and sacrificed their blood to the skeleton saint. At the end of that month, she was convinced she had finally won the favor of her Goddess. On that day the police raided her home and discovered the bodies of all three victims buried beneath her dirt floor. She was sentenced to life imprisonment, showed no remorse for the killings, and authorities labelled her a serial killer.


Freaky Franky Amazon Reviews

Another captivating thriller from author William Blackwell. This is a well-researched and well-crafted read. Tension is maintained at a high level throughout the novel and threads are expertly woven between the characters to pull them all together in the end. I highly recommend this book if you enjoy suspense, a fair bit of graphic violence and generally being scared to death.N.B.
A wonderfully written book where the reader can’t help but be drawn to the characters. Mr. Blackwell’s descriptive writing style allows us a personal glimpse into the minds of his characters to a point where you will feel as though they’re lifelong friends. My only dislike is that it ended.Tawnya Lynch
In a few words, Freaky Franky is different to what you have seen so far. The latest novel from Blackwell is probably one of the very best books I had my hands on of this genre. Fine writing, and not just one of the best novels from Blackwell, but in my opinion one of the best dark-fiction novels ever written to date. Starting up with a charismatic and charming story-line that quickly develops into a full-blown nightmare, taking the reader on a fascinating voyage to hell, and showing the reader the filth of the human soul. Freaky Franky is going to anchor deep down in the reader’s sub-conscience in a very complex way. That been said, this novel and the story is filled with vibrant emotions, and simply outstanding writing.
Amazon Kunde
About the Author:
William Blackwell studied journalism at Calgary’s Mount Royal University and English literature at Vancouver’s University of British Columbia. He worked as a print journalist for many years before becoming an author. He has written over seventeen novels, mainly in the horror genre. Currently living on an acreage in Prince Edward Island, Blackwell loves to travel and write dark fiction.
Author Website http://www.wblackwell.com/
Twitter: @wblackwell333
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/william.blackwell.5264
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5241726.William_Blackwell
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/william-blackwell-92018053/



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Guest Blog - The Black Sheep Shadow by Ashley Terrell

The Glimmer in the Dark
      Life can teach us, just as it can be considered golden. The everlasting journey requires  two destinations. Why doesn’t each destination tell us if there’s to be speed bumps?
      It doesn’t. Every everlasting journey is equipped with adaptive skills that’ll propel you forward from heartache, stagnation and making mistakes twice. Your perseverance transforms into passion for your newfound family or the upcoming generation. Life doesn’t tell us when there will be speed bumps within our own journey, but there will be a few in life. 
    I found the unknown to be the most inspiring in life. In my memoir, The Black Sheep Shadow, the unknown terrified me. Not knowing the future can be scary, if you don’t have a plan, but what if you do? The thrill in the unexpected motivates me to continue to plant seeds of positivity.  
In The Black Sheep Shadow, you may find yourself resembling the black sheep. As you read to live within the scene, find time to close your eyes.  Feel how life happens. What do you think needed to be learned? Was the journey dark? 
Now, open your eyes. Life seems brighter now - because you survived. Wouldn’t anyone appreciate life more if they survived a dark period on their journey in life?I do. 
The Black Sheep Shadow grants me a fresh breath of air and life to be worth excited for.  I hope my memoir, The Black Sheep Shadow, does the same for you. 
With Love,Ashley Terrell 


The Black Sheep Shadow
Ashley Terrell
Genre: Memoir
Publisher: Ashley Terrell LLC
Date of Publication:  April 19, 2017
ISBN: 978-1-329-90288-6
Number of pages: 130 pages
Cover Artist: Freepik
Tagline: “We have symptoms of ‘The Black Sheep’. Aren’t you aware?”

Book Description: 
A unique book on strength and how a person can overcome difficult events in their lives.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/GbjPHJs62Os
Amazon       Black Sheep and Company
Miles Away From Ordinary
I have always been told that with success on any level come prices, struggles and journeys that can take you off road, and from the things that you have always known. In my mind as well as my life, I always considered myself one that would never understand what it was to succeed. I did not have the best support system ­ especial y with any day ending in a Y.Growing up, I remember the white picket fence in some instances though they were blurry. What I do remember the most is the feelings I bottled, the conversations that pierced more than my self-esteem, but it factored into my confidence, my beliefs and my lifestyle.You never know what someone is thinking or how their life has been affected no more than you know how damaging words and actions can be.As one that was affected by the “what happens in this house, stays in this house” policy, I began to not say much. Unlike other households that had an “open door policy”, things were very strained in the Davis household. As time I grew older, I felt like my opinion didn’t matter and affected how I treated others. It also had a bearing on how I treated myself.My life isn’t ordinary. I was not a person that uses to be happy. I was not a person that enjoyed company of friends, nor did I have the desire to be a socialite. I was determined to come from under the stigma of being the black sheep.In all my years of living, the thing I found most profound is the power of God. God will have you speak to someone to deliver His words because He knows that person who is consulting with you will listen. That is trust. When God began to use people to speak to me, it was groundbreaking. It was scary. I never thought I was special enough to have such a privilege.As I was sitting with my mentor to write an alternative book, we were brainstorming on paraphrasing when suddenly I blurted out, “There is no real word to describe my brother being murdered. There is no real word to express my darkness. People see the success of what I have done, not the pain that I had to endure to get there.”Within that moment, I knew my time has come ­ I didn’t know for what though. He slowly looked around and I noticed his leg overreacting under the table.“That’s your story,” he hissed. I paused. For the first time, I felt like a big, fat old-school Jawbreaker was lunged in my throat.“No one wants to hear my story. They want to know how to go from sleeping on air mattresses and eating Ramen Noodles to how to go on tour, promote and do the stuff celebrities do,” I replied.Just off the tidbits I had told my mentor, I never seen his face more flushed. “If you don’t tell your story,” he pauses and looks away, “then the Devil wins.”I notice the goosebumps that wildly appeared on his arms. His body is still overreacting. The scent of the air changes. His advice is no longer suggestive, it is pushing and piercing.“Your story is the raw truth, this book here we are editing is pretty. We need truth. Help someone break out from feeling alone. Help others take a step forward to want to be better. Your story is compelling and can do that,” he told me.
For the first time ever, I confidently agreed with him- in silence.
About the Author:
Ashley Terrell is founder of BSC and Co. She resides on the East Coast where she enjoys blissful sunsets and sounds of ocean waves.
Website: www.blacksheepandcompany.com
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/bscandco
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ashleyterrellllc

DEFINING HUMAN by Candace Blevins

DEFINING HUMANONLY HUMAN Book FourCandace Blevins
Genre:  Urban Fantasy
Publisher:  Excessica
Date of Publication:  2/2/2018
ISBN: 1230002076652ASIN: B078TJKST7
Word Count: 85,000
Cover Artist:  Syneca Featherstone
Book Description:
Book four of the ONLY HUMAN series…
Kirsten negotiated for what she hopes will be two glorious hours with Xaephan, but the Lord of Lust has his own ideas of how the afternoon will transpire, and the consequences of her evening are long lasting.
Her deal with Ryan means she must go to Africa to help guard gazelles for a week. She trains for the event, but her preparation doesn’t cover the Strigorii vampires who have their eye on her. Since she broke up with Abbott, gaining control of her will be like hanging a sign saying they’re more powerful than The Abbott without having to actually fight him.
Throw in complications with Nathan and a few battles with her old enemy Aquila, and Kirsten doesn’t know whether she’s coming or going. She wants peace and quiet with her daughter, but is it possible? Is she too embroiled in supernatural politics to live a normal life? Kirsten feels as if she’s become a game piece in a sick game of chess, and she wants off the board.
Book Trailer:  https://youtu.be/HLUWBFu6IIU
Series Trailer:  https://youtu.be/1dNZydE_LNI
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Excerpt:
“Chère, it’s good to see you.” Xaephan walked to a nightstand, opened a drawer, and chuckled. “Your lion follows instructions well.” He stood and inhaled. “He’s close enough to keep an eye on you. Nice.”
“He isn’t my lion. He’s my friend, and he happens to be a lion.”
“He’s more yours than anyone else’s, Chère. Eventually, you’ll have to confront his Pride, but he’s keeping them in check, for now.”
I forgot what I’d intended to say when he lifted a paddle and flogger from the drawer, followed by a large glass butt plug and a worn leather strap.
The first three items were obviously new, but the strap wasn’t, and I eyed it a few seconds while I tried to figure out how to word my question. “The strap has a story. I want to hear it before you use it on me.”
“It belongs to your lion and is on loan to me for the evening.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by using something of Nathan’s to whip me, but I don’t agree to it.”
“Nothing in our agreement says I can’t, Chère. You said I’d have to act in your best interest, and you bound me from tricking you into anything. I said to find a place I could spank you and make you scream without us being heard, and I warned you moving the marks will hurt nearly as bad as receiving them in the first place. Nothing in that agreement says I can’t use something belonging to the Lion King to spank you with.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t like it.”
He gave me a rakish grin. “Works for me. Our two hours of Earth-time doesn’t begin until we get started, so get rid of the robe and bend over the bed.”
Part of me wanted to bitch about him being a jerk, part of me appreciated the emotional distance it created. I stood, tossed the robe onto a chair in the corner, and bent over the tall bed. I’m short, so I don’t think it worked out quite the way he intended.
“On second thought, tiny human, bend over the chest at the foot of the bed.”


About the Author:
Candace Blevins has published more than thirty books. She lives with her husband of nineteen years and their two daughters. When not working or driving young teens all over the place, she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming. The family’s beloved, goofy, retired racing greyhound is usually at her side as she writes, quietly keeping her company.
Candace writes Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Contemporary BDSM Romance, and a kick-ass Motorcycle Club series.
Her urban fantasy series, Only Human, gives us a world where weredragons, werewolves, werelions, three different species of vampires, and a variety of other mythological beings exist.
Candace's two paranormal romance series, The Chattanooga Supernaturals and The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, are both sister series to the Only Human series, and give some secondary characters their happily ever after. 
Her contemporary Safeword series gives us characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. Each couple in the Safeword series gives the reader a different take on the lifestyle. 
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Press Release: Santa Muerte Worship Spreads Across Canada like Wildfire

The cult worship of a female grim reaper known as Santa Muerte is spreading like a raging wildfire across Canada.
In recent years, Santa Muerte, Spanish for Saint Death, has exploded in popularity, both in Mexico and the United States. But now, worship of the Skeleton Saint, the personification of death, is spreading into Canada.
In his newly released horror novel Freaky Franky, Prince Edward Island dark fiction author William Blackwell examines both sides of Santa Muerte worship—the gruesome and macabre murders committed in her name, and the benevolence she bestows upon those who revere her positively. Although a work of fiction, Blackwell said Freaky Franky was painstakingly researched and many scenes were inspired by real-life events.
“Freaky Franky is much more than an examination of the horrifying consequences of worshiping Santa Muerte with evil intentions,” Blackwell said. “It offers a message of salvation, redemption and hope for people who are willing to change for the better.”
“From Chile to Canada, Santa Muerte has no rival in terms of the rapidity and scope of its expansion,” said Andrew Chesnut, a professor of religious studies and author of Devoted to Death: Santa Muerte, the Skeleton Saint.
The statues used in Santa Muerte worship depict a tunic-draped skeleton, often holding a scythe and a globe, a sort of female grim reaper. Devotees burn symbolic candles, offer gifts to their saint, and pray for prosperity, healing, love and protection.
In many news reports, Santa Muerte worship is depicted as evil, since criminals and gang members pray to her for safe passage of drugs and death to their enemies. The FBI has documented numerous murders related to the worship of Santa Muerte. In some cases, victims were decapitated and used as sacrificial offerings to the mysterious folk saint. The Catholic Church considers it evil, blasphemous and satanic.
But, according to Toronto resident Tom, who asked that we use his first name to protect his professional life, nothing could be further from the truth. “I was going through a very bad patch in my life. I was depressed, suicidal and jobless. A friend turned me on to Santa Muerte and my life turned for the better almost immediately. Now, I’ve found love, have a great job and I’m at peace.”
Tom said worship of Santa Muerte helps you come to terms with your death so you can live your life to the fullest. “She’s pretty far from evil, I’ll tell you that much. So many murders have been committed in the name of Christianity and Islam, yet Santa Muerte gets the bad rap. It isn’t fair.”
Tom said because many Canadian Santa Muerte devotees are concerned about their personal and professional reputations, they’re reluctant to let the Skeleton Saint out of their closets. They worship in private and refuse to discuss their worship publicly or join public internet-based groups that venerate the Skeleton Saint.
Montreal-basedVice Media recently interviewed Cindy, a Toronto health care worker, who asked that her last name not be used to protect her professional reputation. Although skeptical at first, Cindy turned to Santa Muerte in her time of need. "I was in a really dark place for a while," she said. "I lost my job and couldn't find anything else. I was depressed—I didn't know what to do. I was desperate for the momentum to turn my life around."
Although Cindy knows of public shrines to Santa Muerte in Montreal, she worships in the privacy of her own home using a statue of the Skeleton Saint and votive candles, Vicereported.
A Facebook search produced a number of Santa Muerte groups and pages. One page called Santa Muerte Canada at last count had 112 likes and 113 followers. On it, people post images and prayers to their beloved saint. One post depicts a female skeleton with her iconic scythe. Above the post, a message: “Holy death sweet mother, don't walk away… don't step aside. Come with me everywhere and never leave me alone. Since you protect me as well as true mother, make me bless you in the name of God, father, and my mother, my holy death. Amen.”
Another group, Santa Muerte Grupo, at last count had 51,888 members and 151,325 likes. Members often post images of Santa Muerte that quickly generate hundreds, if not thousands, of likes and comments, most of them simply “amen.” One image depicts a skeleton with angel wings holding an hourglass. Its message: “Today I come to you to do that miracle that you need so much. If you believe in me, comment amen.”
In another group called Santa Muerte, an image of the Skeleton Saint proclaims: “Santa Muerte of my heart, do not forsake me and give me your protection.” Santa Muerte at last count, had 70,010 members.
From marginalized members of society such as the poor and disenfranchised, to lawyers, doctors and police, the growth of Santa Muerte is on fire. It is said to have as many as fifteen million followers worldwide. It is believed to be the fastest growing cult—or religion—in the world.
Enriqueta Romero is credited with taking Santa Muerte mainstream in Mexico around the turn of the 21st century. “She shouldn’t be feared,” Romero said. “She is not vengeful, she will not hasten your death. She is part of life and she protects those no one else will.” Often referred to as a high priestess, Romero has a shrine to Santa Muerte at her home in Tepito, Mexico, where worshipers come from around the globe to give offerings to their saint. Offerings include tequila, cannabis cigarettes, votive candles, incense, sodas, chocolates, fruit, flowers, tacos, pastries, and amulets. Often devotees arrive on their knees to worship at the Santa Muerte shrine.
Romero defends her Skeleton Saint. “Everyone thinks the Santa Muerte is for narcos (drug traffickers). But it can be whatever you want and for whoever wants to have faith in her.”
Freaky Franky author William Blackwell also defends the mysterious Skeleton Saint taking the world by storm. “Life is never black and white,” he said. “There are always shades of gray. It’s obvious the worship of Santa Muerte is not all bad; she has followers from all walks of life—looking for prosperity, protection, healing and love.”

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