Noree Cosper's Blog, page 17

Book Blast: I Am Forever by Wynne Channing

It all began with a prophecy. It warned that a human girl would destroy the vampire race. And when 17-year-old Axelia suddenly became a vampire after falling into a well filled with the blood of their gods, they feared that she had been born to kill them all. Author Wynne Channing has followed up her action-packed, best-selling debut novel, What Kills Me, with the much-anticipated sequel, I Am Forever (released January 31)! The sequel picks up after Book One's shocking ending and is another heart-pounding thrill ride filled with stunning twists, tragic betrayal and bloody action. Check out the blurb for I Am Forever: Axelia fought an army of vampires and survived. Once fated as the destroyer of the vampire race, she is now welcomed into the immortal empire and revered as a god. But instead of relishing her victory, she faces a dangerous new world and an empire at war. Axelia is thrust into the position of supreme vampire and caught in the crossfire of battle. To make matters worse, her role alienates Lucas, the one vampire that she trusts. Her power spawns evil enemies. And they know how to get to her — by hurting those whom she loves most.
Buy I Am Forever: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Kobo | B&N | Smashwords | GoodreadsWatch the Trailer!About What Kills Me, Book One: An ancient prophecy warns of a girl destined to cause the extinction of the vampire race. So when 17-year-old Axelia falls into a sacred well filled with blood and emerges a vampire, the immortal empire believes she is this legendary destroyer. Hunted by soldiers and mercenaries, Axelia and her reluctant ally, the vampire bladesmith Lucas, must battle to survive. How will she convince the empire that she is just an innocent teenager-turned bloodsucker and not a creature of destruction? And if she cannot, can a vampire who is afraid of bugs summon the courage to fight a nation of immortals? Buy What Kills Me: Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N | Kobo | iTunes | Goodreads Wynne's giving three readers each a prize pack (a signed What Kills Me bookmark, a notepad and a rhinestone butterfly necklace). Enter here for your chance to win: A Rafflecopter giveaway! About Wynne: Wynne Channing is a national newspaper reporter and award-winning young adult novelist. Wynne loves telling stories and as a journalist, she has interviewed everyone from Daniel Radcliffe and Hugh Jackman to the president of the Maldives and Duchess Sarah Ferguson. The closest she has come to interviewing a vampire is sitting down with True Blood‘s Alexander Skarsgard (he didn’t bite). She briefly considered calling her debut novel “Well” so then everyone would say: “Well written by Wynne Channing.”
Connect with WynneWebsite | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | GoodreadsGoogle+ | Pinterest |YouTube |Amazon Author Page

Hades and Persephone: The Underworld

Here is the second part of the story of Hades and Persephone. If you haven't read the first, it's here.

Persephone, Art by JJLovely

I sighed and crossed my arms as I sat on the couch of my beautiful prison. Drapes of silk and gold beads hung around the room. There was a bed made stuffed with the softest down and covered with silk. Flickering candles reflected off the rubies encrusted in the gold candelabras. Every table in the room sparkled with diamonds, emeralds and other jewels. They were gifts from Hades. I gazed to the center of the room were a banquet table that constantly stayed filled with delicious food and wine.             I was so hungry, but I could not eat. My mother had warned me away from eating the food of the underworld. Those that consumed it were forced to remain forever. I did not wish to be here now, much less for eternity. I sighed again and lay back on the couch, closing my eyes.            The door opened and Hecate stepped in carrying folded clothes. Her silver hair was pulled back from her face and her black silk dress contrasted to her porcelain skin. She was beautiful and ethereal. Hades had given her to me as a handmaiden.            She gave me a gentle. “It is time to bathe, my queen. I have brought fresh robe for you.”            I winced. “Do not call me queen, Hecate. I am merely a prisoner. Hades will realize that we are incompatible. I belong above ground with my mother.”            She gave me a sympathetic look. “I understand how you feel, dear Persephone, however, I must follow my lord’s orders. He wishes you to stay, so stay you must. Now, please, you must bathe, he will be here shortly.”            I snatched the clothes from her, stalked to a curtained doorway, and yanked the silk aside. Steam rose up from the spring in the middle of the room. My feet smacked against the black marble tiles as I made my way to the pool, throwing the clothes down as I went. The water stung my skin as I stepped in. I grabbed the soap from the ledge, scrubbed my skin in quick jerking strokes, and then dove under when I had been completely lathered. I stayed underwater as long as I could, trying to calm myself. Hecate was just following orders; she had no control over my freedom. It was Hades that I must convince to set me free. He should see that I was not meant to be his queen. With new determination, I rose out of the pools and robed myself. When I stepped back into the sleeping room, Hecate was gone. Hades stood before the table, eating grapes. He turned when and stepped in, and a smiled touched his cold lips. “You look as beautiful as ever, my dear. Did you enjoy your bath? Grapes?” He offered them to me but I shook my head and stared at the ground. He sighed and set them down. “You cannot continue this. I will not have my queen starve.”“I am not you queen. I do not belong here Hades. Please, you must return me to my mother.” I entreated as I moved closer to him.He put a cool hand against my cheek. “My dear, daughters must eventually leave their mothers and become wives. It is time for you to bloom, little flower.”“Flowers cannot bloom without sunlight. How can I bloom underground?”He sighed. “Persephone, what do you wish in life? To spend you days in meadows and flowers, coddled by you mother? I sense great power in you. Why not use that power? As my queen you would rule here by my side.”I paused, contemplating what he said. My life before this capture had been as he said. I had spent my days collecting flowers. I ruled over nothing. Even Artemis ruled over the moon. “Let me ask you, is there another that you favor more than I?”I shook my head, still thinking on his words. “N-no.”“Then I ask you give me a chance to win you affections. Think on my words, I offer you a purpose.”
He took my hand and placed his daily gift in it. I looked down and gasped in pleasure. In my hand was a rose carved perfectly out of silver. It was detailed down to the tiniest thorn. I clutched it to my chest and sat on the couch deep in thought.

2104 Calender of Hot Reads: January

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
It's 2014 and we're celebrating with an awesome fantasy themed calendar. This calendar is for the background on your computer and you can get this month's image below. (Just right click and save, then set as your desktop background!)
Each month will feature a different book or series, so if you want to challenge yourself, try reading each book or series that is featured before each month is over. The series to kick off the beginning of the year is the Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter Series by Nikki Jefford. She is also running a giveaway, so be sure to enter for your chance to win some great swag!
Right click and save as an image. Then set as your background!
New Year’s Resolutions From NikkiAfter Aurora Sky nearly dies and is forced to kill vampires for the government in repayment for her life, she comes up with some sketchy New Year’s Resolutions:kill first vampireget drunkkiss a boylose virginity 
My own list seems to be on repeat year after year: Get in shapeLose weightEat healthierRead and write more booksGet organizedBudget better
I do like to throw in some fun things here and there, like learning to ride a motorcycle last year. Someday I’d love to learn to sail. I’d also like to pick up where I left off with my French and become fluent. I wish I could travel more. That’s more of a fantasy than a resolution or maybe if I budget better… ;-)
 What are your resolutions for 2014?
Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter



If there is one thing eighteen-year-old Aurora Sky wants, it's to get off the iceberg she calls home. Being kissed before she graduates wouldn't hurt either. Then a near-fatal car wreck changes everything. Government agents step in and save Aurora's life in exchange for her services as a vampire hunter in Alaska. Basically she's a glorified chew toy. All thanks to her rare blood type which sends a vampire into temporary paralysis before she has to finish the job...by hand. Now Aurora's only friends are groupies of the undead and the only boy she can think about may very well be a vampire. And if he's a vampire, will she be forced to kill him?   AURORA SKY: VAMPIRE HUNTER is the first in a YA Mature/New Adult paranormal fantasy series.Amazon| Other Buy Options
Northern Bites (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter #2)


Love Bites. Probation sucks. Thanks to Dante's recklessness, Aurora is now partners with Valerie: the redheaded, backstabbing vixen. Dante is in full flirt mode. Fane's tactics are more ruthless. Something carnal has awakened in Aurora and neither boy is helping tame her cravings. When a member of the unit's team is found dead, Aurora and Valerie are sent after a vampire in Sitka, but Aurora suspects the killer's much closer to home.  Amazon| Other Buy Options
UPCOMING RELEASE!Stakeout (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter #2.5)


Noel Harper got a second chance at life when the government recruited her as an undercover vampire informant. Since the day they brought her back from the good-as-dead, she has wanted to prove herself worthy.

When a member of her investigative unit is murdered, Noel is paired up with a vampire hunter named Dante to spy on a suspect in Fairbanks. The problem? They're not the only ones on stakeout. Taking down murderous vampires is one thing. Dealing with the past is another. But this time, Noel isn't letting fear win. She's calling in help from the other side and discovers a shocking secret along the way.

(STAKEOUT is an Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter novella told from Noel Harper’s POV. Approximately 54,000 words.)Expected release: January 14thGoodreads
Author Bio:
Nikki Jefford is a third generation Alaskan who loves fictional bad boys and heroines who kick butt. She writes edgy teen fiction, including the Spellbound Trilogy and Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter.

Nikki married Sébastien, the love of her life, while working as a teaching assistant in France. They now reside in the not-so-tropical San Juan Islands, 70 miles northeast of Forks, Washington in a town without a single traffic light.Website | Facebook | Twitter
Giveaway:


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Hades and Persephone: The Abduction

Just a little something I found. I'll be putting this up in small parts.
           The laughter of the nymphs reached my ears as I lay in the tall grass enjoying Apollo’s light. Kalypso sat beside me, her golden hair spread out around her as she weaved flower stems together in a wreath. The aroma of roses, crocuses, and violets mixed with irises and hyacinths surrounded me and I smiled sleepily, content in my grassy bed. I looked up, blinking as someone blocked my light and found Artemis, standing with her hands on her hips. Her toga accentuated her athletic curves and her black hair flowed behind her in the breeze.            “Persephone, there is a boar further in the forest that I wish to hunt. The others follow me. Do you wish to join us?”            I shook my head and stretched my arms out. “I think I shall rest here for a while. Apollo’s rays are so warm that I can barely keep open my eyes. Kalypso may wish to accompany you.”            The nymph nodded, smiling and laid her flowery crown on my breast. She stood, dusting her dress off and joined hands with another of the nymphs.             Artemis leaned forward, kissing me on the cheek. “Rest well, cousin. We shall return triumphant.”            She set off in a graceful sprint towards the mountain. The nymphs’ laughter once again filled the meadow as they ran behind her. Soon their voices faded, replaced by the songs of small birds. I drifted into a light slumber, listening to their chirping.            The sweet scent of a flower woke me as it drifted on the wind. It was unlike anything I have ever smelled before. I sat up peering around the meadow dazedly. Unable to locate the source of the smell I climbed to my feet and the green waves of glass, using my hand to shade my eyes from the sun. A small amount of time had passed and Artemis had not yet returned from her hunt. I was alone in the meadow.            Intrigued by a flower would have such an intoxicating perfume, I followed the trail of the scent through the high grasses. I passed the roses and violets without a second glance, for I was quite familiar with their aroma. This was something new and I wanted to learn everything I could about it. The scent of the flower led outside the meadow and I paused, uncertain of whether to wait for the others or continue my search. This meadow was protected by my mother, for she feared my being alone. Even here she had me accompanied by Artemis and the nymphs for Artemis was skilled in battle and had a strong dislike for men. I sighed, torn between my curiosity and the inclination to obey my mother. Knowing Artemis, she would be on her hunt for the rest of the day. When she returned there would be no time to investigate my flower.            With a nervous breath, I stepped out of the protective confines of the meadow. I gained more courage with every step towards the forest as I tasted independence for the first time. I slowed my pace, admiring the way the shafts of sunlight hit the trees. The scent was stronger towards a small clearing and I stepped in eagerly, searching for the source. To the left of the clearing was a group of tiny white flowers. The shafts sprung up several inches with four or five snowy blossoms each. I knelt down taking one of the delicate blooms between my fingers.            “The Narcissus.” A man’s voice murmured close to my ear.            I jumped back startled, dropping the flower. My gaze traveled up the gold trimmed ebony toga to the cold pale face of my uncle. His black hair was slicked back and fell to his shoulders. His lips held a stiff smile, as if they were unused to such an action. That smile did not travel to his gray eyes, which traveled with icy calculation.            I backed away from him in silent uneasiness, searching for an escape route. I  had seen very little of this uncle as my mother discouraged much interaction with my male family members, but he always frightened me with his aloofness.            “He waved his hand to the collection of flowers. “It is called the narcissus. Beautiful, aren’t they?”            I turned to run and found him in my path, holding a bouquet of narcissi to me. “Please, stay for a while? I would like to speak with you. Do you really wish to end your exploration so soon when you have only begun to have your first taste of freedom?”            I paused, biting my lip. While I was very wary of men, I did not want to end my little adventure just yet. Sensing my wavering attitude, he took a step back and motioned to a obsidian and gold chariot, pulled by a large black stallion. “Have you seen the mountain from an aerial view? It is a wonder that you should experience at least once. Shall we take a small tour?”            I stared at the chariot. What was the harm in one little ride? I nodded my head. My curiosity had overcome my wariness of him. I took the flowers and stepped into the chariot. There was very little room for two people, so when he stepped into the chariot he pressed close to me. His arms came around either side of me as he grabbed the reigns. I shivered as I felt his warm breath of the back of my neck.            He flicked the reigns with a “Hyah!” and the stallion reared and leaped into the air. The horse’s hooves made no sound as it galloped through the sky. I gave a gasp of amazement as we rose higher and higher. The large mountain covered by a blanket of green trees and the peak was capped with snow. I started down below as we circled the mountain and spotted the meadow. From here it was a bright emerald patch surrounded by the deeper green of the forest and brown of the mountain. I could make out small bursts of color which I guessed were the flowers. So caught up was I in the wonder of seeing the area from the sky that I was completely taken by surprise when Hades abruptly reigned the horse into a fast decline. I began to struggle in horror as the ground rushed closer and he pulled me against him in a strong grip. He spread the fingers of his other hand apart and the earth split into two.             “No! Let me go! Please!” I beat my fist against his chest.            “Silence child! You should feel honored. I have chosen you to be my queen.” His voice was now coldly arrogant and he tightened his grip on me.            I screamed and covered my face as we passed into the crevice. Darkness surrounded me as the earth swallowed us.
To be continued next week in The Underworld.

Darkness and Light

In the beginning there was Darkness…

Which is true, but there was only darkness from what we can tell. Neither Earth nor water existed. Then the Big Bang occurred everywhere at once in the universe.

Let there be Light!


And there was. The first elements created were hydrogen, helium, and traces of lithium, all light elements. Stars began to form after a few million years. As the stars burned up their hydrogen fuel, their cores became heavier elements. The most massive stars ended in iron cores that exploded. Interstellar dust made up of these elements became the medium for new stars and everything else in the universe. So…

We are all Stardust.


We still don’t understand about 95% of our Universe. This consists of dark energy and dark matter. Dark matter makes about 27% and its gravity helps hold everything together. It’s called dark matter because it’s not made of anything we know. Light doesn’t interact with dark matter. Dark energy makes up about 68% and is the force that is pushing against gravity. It’s increasing the expansion of our Universe.

So the universe is continuing to expand faster and faster. This has the possibility of expanding so far that our universe could rip apart. However, we’re still safe. Most likely after many, many millennia (seriously, it’s so far beyond that. I think it’s at least Sextillion years, which is 1036) the stars will all burn out. This will begin the Degenerate Era, where only brown dwarfs (objects too small to be stars), white dwarfs (dead cores of smaller stars), and black holes will exist. Even they will die out.

And we will end in Darkness.

It all has a nice symmetry. Though, the ideas it’s giving me for the Van Helsing series is a little frightening. Yes, eventually this will have meaning. The stars play an important role.

Do you like stories about angels, demons, and the supernatural? Pick up a copy of "A Prescription for Delirium" available on Amazon.

Rebecca Hamilton's 5 Favorite Paranormal Things

Hi all, it’s Rebecca Hamilton here! Noree Cosper was so kind as to allow me visit her blog today and talk about some of my favorite paranormal things! I’ve loved all thing paranormal since I was a kid—so young, in fact, I can’t really pin point exactly when it was my interest first began. If you’re reading this blog post, my bet is you are also a fan of the paranormal. So let’s just in to talk about my favorite paranormal things.   1)      Paranormal Books!
Of course I love both reading and writing paranormal books. For me, paranormal lends itself to a kind of magic that gets under your skin. A magic you can believe in, one that brews right beneath the surface. It might instill wonder or fear, but the point is, it instills something. It takes any atmosphere there and amplifies it. And I absolutely adore when a book can do this! So, with no further ado, I give you my favorite paranormal book of all time…
THE VIRGIN OF SMALL PLAINS by Nancy Pickard

Here’s what’s neat about this choice. It’s NOT a fantasy novel! It’s actually more of a mystery. It’s not about witches or vampires (thought I love those things too) but more about a subtle presence, so subtle it might be coincidence, but it’s too much of a coincidence not to mean something more. 
2)      Paranormal Movies!I’m not sure which I loved first—paranormal books or paranormal movies. I always loved books, but I guess it was my love for creepy paranormal-based movies that got me seeking out fiction of the same kind. There’s so many amazing paranormal movies out there, that it really is hard to choose just one. So what I’m going to do is name one that most people haven’t heard of and that is one of the most original offerings to the genre I can think of:
JUG FACE
So, here’s what’s really neat about Jug Face: It’s actually an indie film! And I think the quality of the screenwriting and acting really lends credence to the indie film community. I watched this movie not even knowing it was an indie film until I spoke to the producer on twitter! I was shocked—not that an indie film could be this good, but rather that a bigger film company hadn’t picked it up before it got to that point! I can’t believe it’s not a cult success by now! Seriously, though, check it out. The CGI isn’t anything to brag about, but hey, they were on a budget. This is a really unique, inspired paranormal film, and you’ll be wondering as you watch if this backwoods community is just crazy or if there really is something other-worldly going on here.  3)      Paranormal Games!To some, these are paranormal games. To others, they are paranormal tools. From tarot cards to Ouija boards, there’s all kinds of ways people can tap into a paranormal or supernatural presence. Or, ya know, maybe you don’t believe in that stuff but think it’s all in good fun when you’re trashed at some party. To each their own, but I, for one, have always found Ouija boards particularly exciting. And, as a writer, you can use totally use tarot cards or Ouija boards to write books. Not that I’ve ever done that…
What ever happened to Ouija boards, anyway? When was the last time you saw a commercial for one. I wonder if they have been banned from the air, much like Halloween has been banned from many schools.  In any event, if the only Ouija board you know of was created in the ‘90s, then you still have a lot to learn about Ouija boards!  We can find mention of it in history as early as 1100 AD. And no, it’s not the one Hasbro made. Ouija boards don’t all look the same. Some people even make their own!
OUIJA BOARDS take the cake on this one for me. Here’s one I think is pretty neat:

4)      Paranormal Researchers and Magazines (does that count as 2?).Say what you will, believe what you want, but paranormal researches and investigators are, at the very least, awesome people to hang out with! I grew up in New Jersey, and we have this ‘zine there called Weird NJ. Now, I’m not saying that ‘zine is a pristine example of paranormal research at its finest, but it sure was a fun resource to give us ideas of places to go when we were teens.
So, if for no other reason than Nostalgia, my favorite paranormal ‘zine is WEIRD NJ.In Weird N.J. we travel to places that are seen for what they are; weird, odd or unique, all told by New Jerseyans to Mark Sceurman and Mark Moran, publishers of Weird N.J., while traveling the backroads of the Garden State in search of local unwritten history and modern folklore.

When we travel the state of New Jersey, we are looking for tales told only inside the perimeters of a town. These stories and places tell a story that cannot be found in any history books and are not often perceived as “history,”…until we arrive.
  5)      Paranormal Places.
Number 4  can only logically lead us to my number 5: Paranormal Places.  When I was growing, my friends and I used to all meet up at the parking lot of Dunkin Donuts (the owner worked late and would give us free donuts) then we’d head off of to do some investigating of our own. Which, in our case, was really just goofing off, probably trespassing on abandoned property, and either not realizing or not caring that we shouldn’t be there. But boy, it gave us a thrill! (Not the trespassing—but the bizarre and atmospheric locations we visited.) Was there something there, lending its energy to the space, or did we bring the energy there ourselves?  Whatever your take may be, paranormal researchers and investigators know quite a bit more about the energies surrounding us than most of know!
Plus, they get to visit cool places . . . Here’s one I’ve never visited but would be a dream vacation stop for me:
VILLISCA AX MURDER HOUSE
On June 10, 1912, the old white frame house at 508 E. 2nd Street became a grisly crime scene. The heinous murder of Josiah B. Moore, his wife, their 4 children and 2 young girls who were overnight guests rocked the small town of Villisca, IA, and the murderer was never identified. Over the years, residents of the home reported visions of a man with an ax, children crying and unexplained paranormal activity. In 1994, the home was restored to its original condition with no indoor plumbing or electricity. These touches add to the chilling ambience during a lamplight tour from April through November or an overnight experience available by reservation for groups.



Thanks so much for letting me shares some of my favorite paranormal things with you! I’d love to hear what YOUR favorite paranormal things are in the comments section below J Also, if you’re interested in more paranormal fun this month, I’m celebrating the German release of my paranormal fantasy bestseller THE FOREVER GIRL all month! Stop by MY BLOG for games, guest posts, writing workshops, giveaways, and more.

Coven and Coffin Blog Hop: Burn

And to end things, here is a frightful tale from yours truly.

BurnBy Noree CosperLacey rubbed her upper arms and bowed her head against the wind. The tree in the yard of the defunct asylum shook it bare branches with a rattle. The moon hung in the air like a creepy spy. Jake held the lose board and pushed the door behind it. White chips of paint came off at his touch and it swung inward with a creak. Darkness beckoned them from within.We shouldn’t be here, she thought.But saying no to Jake Peterson was like a death sentence at school. She was lucky to even be out on a date with him. With his short blond hair and broad muscled chest, who would want to? Half the girls in school had been vying for his attention and he had chosen Lacey with her overly curly hair and freckled. She should feel honored. Yet, why did her feet not move when he waved her into that dark hall?“Don’t tell me you getting scared.” He laughed, flashing his perfect white teeth.“Of course not.” She forced herself to climb through the rotting boards.Jake clicked on a light and shone it down the hall. Dirt had ingrained itself on the walls, turning the white to yellowish gray. They walked the lobby. A faded sign hung on the wall in front of them, reading Anderson Lunatic Asylum. Luke took her hand and pulled her to the stairs.“The best part’s up here,” he said.                                                            *The voices of the warm creatures disturbed the waves of voiceless whispers that surrounded her. They were in elongated syllables she couldn’t quite comprehend. The shadows that flickered with their twisted faces faded away and color replaced the gray waves, beginning with the two figures in the center. The boy glowed a bright pink and mustard yellow while the girl was a dark green. She reached out her hand towards them. If only she could hold their heat, their life.*A chill crept along Lacey’s shoulders as something brushed her hair. She spun around and peered into the darkness.“What’s wrong?” Jake asked.“Something touched me.”He chuckled and wiggled his fingers at her. “Maybe it was her. Crazy Anna.”She rolled her eyes at him. “Right.”He put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. “It’s all right. I’ll protect you.”A different sort of shill settled over Lacey and she pulled away. “So where did she die?”He shrugged, trying to hide his scowl. “In the boiler room. Come on, I’ll show you.”He led her down the stairs stairs and through a musty hall filled with rusty metal doors. Lacey shivered at how little his flashlight pushed the gloom away. She moved closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her. She wanted to pull away but she didn’t want to be separated from the only other living person here. The shadows seemed to have a life of their own, dancing just out of reach of the light. Jake pulled her into the last room on the corner. Lacey wrinkled her nose at the faded smell of ash.“This is it. They say she was a favorite of some of the orderlies and they used to take her down here all the time.” He played his light over the blackened remains of the giant furnace in the center of the room. “One day she got uppity and decided to fight. No one knows exactly what happened but both her and orderly were burnt to a crisp.”“That’s awful,” Lacey whispered.“She should have known her place.” Jake sneered.Lacey inched to the door. “Be careful, if she really haunts this place, do you want to make her angry?”He snorted. “I’m not afraid of her. Hey, you’re shaking, are you cold or scared.”She gave a nervous laugh. “A little of both I guess.”“Well, I can take care of both.” He moved closer and wrapped his arms around her.She tried to pull away but he tightened his hold.“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.“We should keep exploring.” She tried to keep her voice steady.“No need to rush. Let’s hang out here for a bit.” He nuzzled her neck while one of his hands trailed down her back.She pushed at his chest. “Stop.”He held tighter. She twisted in his arms and brought her hand up. The slap echoed in the empty asylum. He pulled back, touching his cheek with a look of shock. His face reddened and a twisted scowl replaced the shock.“You bitch,” he said.He grabbed her arm and slammed her against the wall. Light burst in front of her eyes. She slid to the ground with a moan. He was on top of her, ripping at the buttons on her blouse. She tried to grab at his hands and kick, but he was so strong and so heavy. She scream.He laughed. “Shriek all you want. Only Crazy Anna’s ghost can hear you.”*She didn’t like this room. Yes, it was hot unlike the rest but it burned too bright. Dead screams reverberated around her. She covered her ears and ducked her head to avoid them but they didn’t fade. A sharp cry cut through the rest and she looked around. The warm bodies struggled on the floor, just like before. The room flashed white and she could feel the rough hands on her thighs. Her lip tasted of blood. She roared and flew at the figure, her form shifted to smoke, ash, and flame. The girl’s mouth was agape and she filled it.*Lacey raked her nails down Jake's arms as he yanked her bra down. He gave a low growl, covered her face with one hand, and slammed the back of her head against the wall. She cried out and a cloud of smoke filled her mouth. It traveled through her body, leaving a trail of heat in her veins. The world became covered in a hazy veil. Her hand rose up of its own volition and touched Jake’s chest. His skin blackened underneath her fingers and he jerked back with a yell. She grabbed his arm and a manic laugh escaped her lips. His jacket sizzled and caught fire. The flames spread to his chest. He struggled to break from her grip but this time she was too strong.*
Anna rose and stepped over the burnt husk of the boy. She stared down at her hands as she rubbed them together, enjoying the feeling. This body was perfect. She picked up the fallen flashlight, headed up the stairs, and out of the wall that held her prisoner for so long. 
So this wraps up our Covens and Coffins Blog Hop. Be sure to stop by the other authors sites for their great posts (Some are even by me.)

Peter Dawes: Stormy Night Flash FictionJessica Fortunado: Halloween Treats and RecipesKayleigh Grian: Characters in CostumeM. R. Graham: Tributes to Those We’ve Lost
Kalya Curry: Murder Mystery Party

Today's the last day to sign up for your Treat. One lucky winner gets all this.

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Coven and Coffin Blog Hop: Last Call for Tanner Lee

Happy Halloween! Today we have another chilling tale. This one is from M.R. Graham.
Last Call for Tanner Lee
Tanner left the hospital feeling strangely empty. He had expected agony. From the moment he had heard the Code Blue declared over the intercom and been forced out of Leah’s room (Room 318; he would never forget that number, or the feel of the sheets beneath his hands), he had known his life was coming to an end. They did not give up, and he gave them credit for that, but there is only so much time and effort a doctor can put into saving someone who is determined to die, and twelve hours later, Tanner and the bag of Leah’s effects sat in the back of a cab, on their way home. He would have to plan a funeral. Of course she had no life insurance; she had only been eighteen, a grinning college freshman home for her first Christmas break. He sat at home that night and called her cell phone, letting it ring out at the foot of her bed for the sake of hearing her voice in the recording. Hey, it’s Leah. I can’t come to the phone right now, probably because I’m having more fun than you, but if you’ll leave your name and number, I might get back to you when I get around to it! He thought about hanging up before it could beep, but he left a message anyway. Maybe somewhere, Leah was listening. “Hey, baby. I love you.” He walked to the other room and looked at the lighted screen of her phone. One missed call. The battery was nearly dead, and he did not plug it in. The house was very empty that night. He propped Leah’s photograph on the bedside table, beside the picture of her mother. He texted her in the morning. “Love you, baby. I miss you.” Her phone buzzed in the other room, but by the time he got there, the screen had gone dark. He still did not plug it in. There was no point. Sooner or later, he would have to cancel her service, but for the moment, that recorded voice meant too much to him. He called again, and because the phone was as dead as his daughter, it went straight to voicemail. Hey, it’s Leah. I can’t come to the phone right now, probably because I’m having more fun than you, but if you’ll leave your name and number, I might get back to you when I get around to it. “I love you,” he said, then his hand clenched. “What the hell were you thinking, Leah?! You’re eighteen, what the hell were you doing, getting hammered like that?” He hurriedly erased the message and re-recorded, just in case, somewhere, Leah was listening. “I love you, baby. I love you. I miss you already.” By noon, the food was already arriving. Tanner did not understand what exactly it was about heartbreak that made friends and neighbors feel the need to feed him, but they brought salad and casserole and lasagna and cake. They brought enough food to feed a small army, more than one man could eat in a month. He piled it into the refrigerator, hating everything, and thought bitterly that he would have to start sending out thank-you notes, sooner or later. They should have left him alone. He texted Leah. “Wish you were here to share all this crap with me. Love you.” Christmas came and went, but the food in the refrigerator barely dwindled. Tanner did not feel like eating. He did not feel like doing much at all. Work hurt, and home hurt, and sleep hurt, and church was the worst, because they left up the white flowers he had bought, mingled with poinsettias, absorbing his grief into their celebration. He called Leah. Hey, it’s Leah. I can’t come to the phone right now, probably because I’m having more fun than you, but if you’ll leave your name and number, I might get back to you when I get around to it! “Just thought I’d tell you I got you a new laptop for Christmas. It’s a good one, really fast. Wish I could have watched you open it. I love you, baby. I miss you.” He stuck his phone back in his pocket and headed for the parking lot across the street from the church. His phone buzzed. One message received. He stopped in the crosswalk, staring at the screen. A horn blared, and Tanner looked up. He smiled at the eighteen wheeler and the smell of burning rubber, clutching his phone tight. “Love you, too, Dad. See you soon.”  
The Books of Lost KnowledgeTruly, there are more things in heaven and earth… For instance, a dark and subtle world of magic, hidden just below the surface of reality. Lost Knowledge is a series of novels – two complete, many in progress – that centers on the reality of the things mankind has chosen to forget. There is beauty in the mist between the sea and the land, and dark things exist in the dim chasms of memory. Learn more at the Lost Knowledge website, or buy now here.


About MR GrahamMR Graham is a native Texan who traces strong cultural roots back to Scotland, Poland, and England. A mild-mannered Latin teacher during the day, Graham transforms at night into a raging Holmesian loremaster and rabid novelist. Though passionate about all scholarship and academia, Graham’s training and true love lies with anthropology, particularly the archaeological branch.Connect with MRGoodreads | Facebook | Twitter | Blog

Tomorrow we end this little soiree with a story from yours truly. I'm sure it will raise the hair of he back of your neck.  Be sure to visit the other blogs for some more festivities.
Peter Dawes: Stormy Night Flash Fiction
Jessica Fortunado: Halloween Treats and Recipes
Kayleigh Grian: Characters in Costume
M. R. Graham: Tributes to Those We’ve Lost
Kalya Curry: Murder Mystery Party


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Coven and Coffin Blog Hop: A Ghost's Story

We come to the fourth day of the party. Is your heart pounding yet?
A Ghost's Storyby Jessica Fortunato
I remembered picking him up from the airport.  Seeing him at the gate, so proud of himself he’d made it all the way to Europe and back.  I remembered he looked confident, and much older than the kid I’d dropped off months before.
Are we destined to turn out like the generations before us? Is it foretold in some place dark and unnatural that we repeat the mistakes we’ve bore witness to?  Are the Fates the weavers of our demise?  I don’t know.  Yet in the inky, moonless night, I believe so strongly it makes me sick, that we have only ourselves to blame for our sadness and misfortune.  Perhaps life is cruel and it is a bit of both.  Still, it seems like an endless struggle, a tugging between a foolish tradition of drifting and a plaintive desire to remain intact.  I’ve seen the ashes and smelled the bitter smoke of those burned bridges.  My fingertips have blistered as I came to realize it was I who lit the match. 
What would I dare say if they were listening?  If they spoke the same ominous and brutal language, I now whisper.  Lives can be separate but still entwined.  You needn’t choose one or the other.  It is not in our natures to pursue the hidden, but we should do it nonetheless.  I would ask if we don’t bother to save one another, then why bother at all?    Stop crouching behind the rotting decay of disease, anger, seductively busy schedules.  Speak even when you have forgotten your name or your purpose.  Cling to the belief that if not for the people in our portraits we would not be who we are. 
Whether because of them or in spite of them, they are our beginning.
This is the easy part.
I saw the wreckage, and I remembered the deer.  How had I thought for a moment that preserving a deer was better than this?
In that inky, moonless night, there will be demons.  Their claws will dig into your flesh, their teeth tearing for your throat.  They will be strong, their eyes will know no pity or remorse and they will know your heartbeat from a thousand others.  Hiding will do no good. As you stumble, realize that running will only make your bones ache, the evil has already caught up with you.Because it is you.
The bloody lining will be suffocating and intoxicating at the same time.  The taste in your mouth as sweet as it is metallic.  But you mustn’t succumb. 
Finally, I found him.  Strapped to a backboard, awake and alert and for a moment he looked right through me.
There are still those who remember who you were.  Before you ran, before you knew the names of the creatures that stalk you.  You are within their memory.  In their knowledge, you will find your salvation.That, little brother, is the hard part.
I saw the kind officers drape the white sheet over my body like angel wings.
Bleeding and full of anguish their light will guide you to the dawn, to your home.
But first, little brother, you must ask.
Jessica Fortunato writes a rare combination of Paranormal/ Supernatural/ Religious Literary Fiction.  She lives in Pennsylvania with her family, a clumsy black cat, and year round Halloween decorations.  Rarely seen in direct sunlight, reports of Jessica’s vampirism remain unsubstantiated.
Visit her Blog
The Sin Collector
"The Sin Collector" follows the life of Liliana, a born Sin Collector. She has spent over 100 years absorbing people's sins so they may rest in peace come death. However when she meets another Collector, one who insists everything she has been taught is a lie, Liliana must make her way from Sunny L.A. all the way to the streets of Madrid. Searching for answers to a question we all share. Why are we here? The friends and enemies she makes along the way only seem to blur the line between right and wrong. Can Liliana fight the Castus, an organization bent on killing off every Sin-Eater? Should she trust her head or her heart when the two most important men in her life are fighting alongside her?
Then there is the worst question of all, who will be left when the dust settles?


The Sin Collector: Thomas
This story is meant to be read following Book One in The Sin Collector Series.
Thomas has taken vows. As an immortal, he is impervious to harm on the battlefield. As a Collector, he alone can take away the sins of the fallen and allow them to move peacefully into the next life. But valor never comes without sacrifice.
Far away from combat is his home, and her name is Lucy. Lucy is a human and frail from the explosion that nearly took her life, but Thomas’s duty pulls him from her before she can recover. His letters are his only connection to her, and to her caretaker, Thomas’s best friend Emmilina.
Thomas has gone to War for his God and for honor but there is an even more personal mission that drives him.
He will find other Collectors, and tell them the secrets he has learned.



Sacrifice: The Sin Collector 2
As an immortal Sin Collector, Liliana lead a transient life of solitude for over one-hundred years. Now with a growing family, she has found herself liking normalcy and the façade of being human. However, when old friends begin to turn up dead, it is clear Collectors are not safe. The battle that Liliana thought she’d won, has only just begun.
She must save herself, her family, and her friends from the Castus, a fanatical group sworn to eradicate her kind.
As Liliana travels the globe making allies, and discovering secrets, she soon learns that the threat to her safety is closer than she ever thought possible.
Will she be able to fight her fate, or will she succumb to an ancient Castus prophecy?





Steam

Charlotte Amelia Caprice may seem like an ordinary girl. She has a job she hates, a boss she despises, and zero romantic prospects. Her friends call her Charlie, when she can keep one for more than a few weeks. Though Charlie may seem ordinary, she is anything but. Charlie doesn’t have a heart. Instead, she has a steam driven machine in her chest, always making her feel less than human. Gears and pistons have been using her own body heat to pump her blood for over a decade. There is one small problem. Her heart is beginning to break. When Charlie meets a brilliant man, one who could save her life, she must choose between being heartless and being alive. A simple choice for some, but for Charlie living on steam isn’t easy.

Return tomorrow for a new story. Be sure to visit the other blogs for some more festivities.

Peter Dawes: Stormy Night Flash Fiction
Jessica Fortunado: Halloween Treats and Recipes
Kayleigh Grian: Characters in Costume
M. R. Graham: Tributes to Those We’ve Lost
Kalya Curry: Murder Mystery Party

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Coven and Coffin Blog Hop: From One Shore to the Next

Gather round and hold your lovers tight for this next haunting tale.

From One Shore to the NextBy Peter Dawes
Lady Liberty stood guard over us just as I had been warned she would, her distant gaze peering out across the harbor as though she could connect with some other soul standing across the ocean. The thought caused me a moment’s pause, distracting me from a rousing conversation happening near me centered on the technological marvel which was the boat we stood upon. Just like that, I had been captured by a wistful notion and sent back to the shore from where I had departed.She had forced me to leave her. Love could find no way of sugarcoating this truth no matter how hard I tried to be gracious to my darling Anneleise. While she had attempted every practical reason under the sun to convince me it was for the best, I bought them just as readily as I did the thought she actually wanted me to go. Our affair had been complicated at best, convoluted at worst, and while I was a man of questionable morals from the start, even I struggled to define us.Especially when our first tender moments together fell under rank deception.My darling Anneleise. I could not fight the frown her memory summoned. She had been exquisite, her beauty something which defied mere aesthetics. Whatever gods had crafted Annie took care to imbue her with the graciousness of a noble, the patience of a saint, and the wisdom of a sage. As one could expect, this meant she fell into a relationship with a man who could see none of these attributes. After she failed to become pregnant three years into their marriage, she had been relegated to servitude. Nothing more.When she thought herself alone, though, her true self shone through. She sang whilst cleaning the modest house she shared with her brother-in-law. Lithe feet twirled across the wood floors and the first time I caught her mid-spin, I wondered if she might have been a pixie. Even the brute she had wed could not kill such a carefree spirit, one which simply settled into demure when he returned from work. He’d grunt out a greeting and from there, would sit in his chair, waiting for dinner. Annie would return to the kitchen and hum the rest of the melody he had interrupted in softer, dulcet tones. For the most part, they carried out their separate existences with little incident. Until the night he made her cry.I stood by as an unwitting bystander, my words trapped in my throat when Annie caught her foot on the rug and spilled his dinner. They both stared at the mess for several seconds, Annie too horrified to move and her husband seeing more than wasted food spattered across the floor. I winced when he breathed a heavy sigh and as he stood, feared he might raise a hand to strike her. What followed encompassed such a harsh upbraiding, however, that I believed Annie might have preferred being beaten. Through her tears, she dropped to her knees and wiped at the stained fabric.It happened so quickly, I could not bring myself to stopping it. He had been on his way out the door when suddenly he paused, taking a deep breath and turning to look at her. She failed to notice it at first. Through sobs and sniffles she continued collecting food back onto a plate.Annie startled when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Schatzi.” The tough, booming voice sounded calmer, and much more composed than it had several minutes ago. He shut the door, tossing his coat aside and walked to close the distance between them. Her eyes widened when he crouched beside her. “We’ll clean this up together. No more tears.” The corners of his mouth curled in an apologetic grin.Nodding once, she remaining quiet whilst his hands reached for the plate. Hers shook as she handed it over, but she did, and seemed not apt to question the miracle. Perhaps that was the moment I should have said something, but I remained mute and allowed the rest of the evening to play out, even when her husband returned to his normal senses and failed to bring up what he had just done. We might have fooled Annie, but the woman bore more intellect than her simple demeanor suggested.Over the next few weeks, the boorish man experienced rare moments of humanity, which shone through just as another upbraiding seemed eminent. One second, he would have his pipe lowered from his mouth, the insults dancing on his tongue, and the next, he would issue a compliment instead, and resume smoking. The ice thawed in such gradual stages, I thought she might remain ignorant of the changes. He kissed her again after having not touched her in months. He made her smile ear-to-ear, where only he had managed to conjure soft, determined grins onto her lips. One evening, their kisses had turned heated and his strong arms carried her into the privacy of their bedroom.In the dark, in the still of the night, she finally called his bluff.“Who are you?” she asked, her fingers tracing down the hand which had settled onto her stomach. The inquiry spurred him to laugh. “Schatzi, what kind of foolish question is that?” he asked, stopping her gentle strokes by moving his hand.Annie froze for a second, and then turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised in a dare. “You call me that. Schatzi. He never did. Not even on our wedding night.”Those eyes – that crystal blue gaze which had managed to penetrate into my soul – would not look away and in that moment, I found my voice again. It might have sounded like her husband’s, bearing his timbre and diction, but the words which emerged were mine. “It’s still a foolish question. Shouldn’t it be what has gotten into you?”The arched brow relaxed. Annie failed to blink. “No amount of drink or food or comfort would have made Wilhelm this tender, stranger. It never has. And I had accepted that a long time ago.”“Should you have?”“What business is that of yours?”“I suppose I’ve made it my business.” I frowned – using his lips to frown – and nodded when Annie continued holding me hostage with her eyes. “If you think me a stranger, why have you let me into your bed?”“That isn’t your business, either, especially if you won’t tell me who you are.”“My name is Christian,” I said, “And I’ve come to protect you.”The comment had been intended to be heartfelt. It prompted an uproarious amount of laughter from Annie, however, and as she asserted I was the one who needed protecting, I could not help but fall into hysterics with her. A night of visceral honesty followed, as did twenty-one blissful years of lapses on her husband’s part.But she had sent me away. And I would be lucky if I ever saw her again.I felt a tug, disrupting my thoughts and bringing me back to Lady Liberty, and what would be my new home. After five hundred years, I had been taken away from the continent on which I had lived and died, where I had experienced both love and loss more times than I dared to recount. The young lady who peered in my general direction smiled warmly as she clutched her purse and motioned to follow a young man dressed in uniform.“Come, Papa. I don’t want to leave you behind,” she said. In her voice, I heard the delight of a child. In her laugh, I heard the tinkle of wind chimes, reminding me that while the world could still hold beauty, even if her mother had captured more than a fair share of it.I sighed good-naturedly. “Very well, Marjorie,” I said, my steps lighter than air, my form passing through the obstacles stopping me from following along.“Promise me you’ll stay with our daughter. I’m growing old, and don’t want you to be stuck with me while I die.”
“I promise,” I had said to Annie. Even if it had meant saying goodbye.



Peter Dawes is the author of The Vampire Flynn Series, published by the micro-press Crimson Melodies. His serial story, “A Maker and His Child” appears on the BloodTideZine website and short “Lost Highway” has been featured in the Nocturnal Embers anthology, also by Crimson Melodies. While primarily a novelist, he has also contributed to the story cycle Red Phone Box, featuring the work of fellow authors Warren Ellis, Dan Wickline, and more. Always working on something new, Peter leaves it up to the reader to decide if it’s by sunlight or candlelight.You can follow the author on any of these sites…·         Twitter: http://twitter.com/peterdawes·         Facebook: http://facebook.com/AuthorPeterDawes
·         Wordpress: http://peterdawes.wordpress.com



The Vampire Flynn SeriesBlurb:As the moon rose over Philadelphia, on January 20, 1983, nobody could have known what was about to happen. Inside a coffee shop, a meeting between a young resident doctor and a redheaded vixen would end with a night of bloodshed. Two people would lay dead inside an apartment near Fairmount Park. A third victim would be claimed when their killer ran into the waiting arms of a vampire.Rather than being met with eternal condemnation, however, Dr. Peter Dawes would wake several days later as a new creature. No longer possessing a pulse and with sharp teeth itching for purchase on human skin, Peter’s first days as an immortal would blossom into five years of decadent, sadistic killing. Exchanging the scalpel for a dagger and the scrubs for a suit, the man who once sought to heal would come to be known as the deadliest vampire ever to wield a sword. The covens referred to him as the Black Rose Assassin. To his maker, Sabrina, he was known as Flynn.Her instrument in an ambitious struggle to gain control of the city, Flynn amassed a collection of conquests. All the while, secrets circled around him, speaking of special gifts and a human destiny left behind upon his turning. It would take an immortal named Anthony, a mysterious pendant, and a human sorceress named Monica for Flynn to learn the truth behind his turning. And what resulted would send a shockwave from the City of Brotherly Love outward to the rest of the world.
Join Flynn on his journey from ruthless assassin to immortal seer. In a mission which takes him to Chicago, Seattle, and the darkest corners of the globe, a vampire will reconnect with his humanity and a villain will become a reluctant hero. Along the way, wicked immortals, unlikely allies, and a society of gifted humans called the Supernatural Order will test the mettle of the reformed killer. In the end, a man divided will be forced to reconcile with his darkness, and two beings shall emerge from one.

Tomorrow we return with another story sure to raise some goosebumps. Be sure to visit the other blogs for some more festivities.

Peter Dawes: Stormy Night Flash Fiction
Jessica Fortunado: Halloween Treats and Recipes
Kayleigh Grian: Characters in Costume
M. R. Graham: Tributes to Those We’ve Lost
Kalya Curry: Murder Mystery Party

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