G.R. Yeates's Blog, page 2
August 15, 2013
Conversations with the Dead
I’ve never been entirely comfortable with defining my work as dark fiction. It’s a term that seems to be getting so over-used these days that it will soon reach the point where it loses all meaning. “I’ve written a dark story. It’s about a room where the light switch doesn’t work.”
That said, I’ve also struggled until recently to find a definition of what I’ve been doing that has satisfied me. I came across an interview with Fantasy author, Tad Williams, where he described his Memory, Sorrow and Thorn series as being a conversation with J.R.R. Tolkien. As a definition for taking inspiration from those who have gone before, I think it works perfectly.
The Thing Behind the Door is one of my conversations with H.P. Lovecraft. It is my attempt to blend cosmicism with some of the very real horrors of humanity; some mundane and everyday, some more historically significant. The provincial high school of The Thing Behind the Door where much bullying and abuse occurs is compared to the Nazi regime’s Harthiem Castle at one point, just to give you an idea of the tone this conversation took.
The Thing Behind the Door will be going through something of a re-release this time next week. You will be able to pick it up as part of the Great British Horror collection, which will be available for free over the August bank holiday and, after that, all proceeds will be going to Centrepoint – a charity that helps disadvantaged young people. I hope that you will give it a look and lend your support when the time comes for the launch.
So, what conversations have you been having with dead people recently?
Join the Great British Horror launch party here.
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June 14, 2013
The Sceptre of Storms – OUT NOW!
The armies of the Fallen One have invaded the Three Kingdoms. A traitor sits upon the throne of Highmount. Malus, the Necrodragon, has been unleashed to lay waste to Seythe. The only hope left is Sarah Bean. But she has disappeared. Will she return and fulfil her destiny as the Living Flame? Or will she let the armies of the Fallen One conquer Seythe and plunge it into the Age of the Shadow forever?
Available from:
Due out soon on Kobo.
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June 3, 2013
The Sceptre of Storms – Preview
The Nightlands lay to the east, at the edge of Seythe, where land ends and the emptiness of the Waterless Sea begins and stretches away into the distance. Logic tells us that worlds must be round, but Seythe is not round, and logic is a new toy. Here, at the edge of the world, the Shadowhorn has stood since the beginning, before the Ages. A soaring goliath of a mountain where poison rivers run, black snow clings like fungus to its crags, and the ancient being known as the Fallen One—the Black Lord Under the Mountain—slumbers in his tomb.
But the Fallen One is not the only being that slumbers here. Long ago, the armies of the Fallen and the Flame fought a great battle at the borders of the Nightlands. Only four beings survived, only four would continue their fight upon the mountain itself. Each of them was the last of their kind, and none of them walked away from that final confrontation—but that is not to say they did not survive.
As there is light in the darkness and darkness in the light, life and death can be malleable things for some creatures. The remains of one such creature fell into the Great Abyss at the foot of the Shadowhorn, his bones left to rot and moulder since the last battle between Fallen and Flame. But now, they are to be disturbed.
E’blis, the fallen creator of men, stood on the very edge of the Great Abyss as the banks of fog and roaming mist that eternally shroud the Nightlands rolled on over wasteland and dark grey desert. Hooded as always, and carrying his one-horned staff, he muttered in a voice that seemed to summon strange cries and horrible groans from beneath the ground. He clashed the base of his staff against the rocks, building up rhythm as his mutterings became a hideous, guttural, wordless chant—sounds that should not be heard or even shaped by a throat.
Storm clouds gathered overhead, quickly growing swollen and black as E’blis pounded his staff against the stone faster, faster and faster. Finally, he let out an ululating shriek that split the air and lightning lashed down to strike deep into the Great Abyss, illuminating its sheer depths.
And then, there was a silence.
It was soon broken by sounds. Sounds of something stirring and waking in the Great Abyss, of flesh and bone grinding together. A great shadow was moving down in the darkness, and it spoke to E’blis.
“Why do you awaken me, O E’blis?”
“Because the time has come for you to arise and fulfil your oath sworn to His Shadow.”
“I was dying when those words were spoken.”
“And those who serve His Shadow do so in death as much as in life. You know that well enough.”
“Your tongue is like that of a snake, O E’blis.”
“I think the snake is more of a brother to you than to I.”
The shadow crawled higher up the side of the Great Abyss. Steam and fumes billowed around it. Two eyes shone in the dark at E’blis.
“Why has the time come to disturb me? Speak, E’blis. You bound my soul to my bones. I have not crossed yet into the Lands Beyond to be with my kin. I have slept in this night-soiled ground alone for centuries. I would know why you have put flesh on my back and life into my heart.”
“Because She has returned.”
“She … ?”
“The one who ruined you. The Flame has been born again and walks the land.”
“A’aron … reborn.”
“Yes, and you know His will.”
“And I know my will,” the great shadow said, “and it is to destroy. All things will be destroyed. I will tear down mountains, uproot forests and flatten cities and their people into dust just to see Her weep. I will burn this world until it is nothingness just to know that She died in the inferno.”
As the great shadow spoke these words, the ground surrounding the Great Abyss began to rumble and shake. Dust and debris showered down, and traces of white fire began to flicker up from the pit.
“You speak well, as ever you did.”
So saying, E’blis stepped away from the Great Abyss, and as the storm clouds rolled overhead, he struck his staff against the earth until the smouldering base was buried in the black soil. A column of searing fire burst upwards from the Great Abyss and a curving snouted head, horned and dark-eyed, loomed out of it and over E’blis.
“Arise, O Malus! Arise, O Necrodragon!”
The Sceptre of Storms will be released 14th June on Amazon, B&N, Kobo & Apple.
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April 22, 2013
The Age of the Flame has Begun
My thanks to everyone who has supported The Sword of Sighs in its first month of release. For those of you wondering where the story of the Living Flame will be going next, I can now confirm the titles of the rest of the series. These will be released over the remainder of 2013 and into 2014.
June 2013 (tbc): The Scion of Storms
Autumn/Winter 2013: The Stone of Sorrows
Spring 2014: The Shield of the Sun
Summer 2014: The Song of Sacrifice
Autumn/Winter 2014: Shadowhorn
Further details about The Scion of Storms will be released shortly.
You can sign-up for the mailing list to be updated on all future developments with the series at the following link: http://eepurl.com/vfYf9
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April 19, 2013
Feature Friday welcomes Red Tash’s Troll Or Derby!
“Your parents probably won’t want you to read this book. Read it, anyway. Five stars.” Ian Seta, Floating Leaves Reviews / Indie Bookshelf
Troll Or Derby: A Fairy Wicked Tale is the story of Deb, a punk kid from the wrong side of the trailer park. In her rural Indiana hometown, Deb can’t fit in, so all she wants to do is skate away. She’s not into line dancing or partying it up, and she can’t sit still long enough to escape into a good book. No, every time Deb rolls to a stop, her alcoholic mom is hollering for another pack of cigarettes, or another six pack of Bud. Making matters worse, Deb’s portly beauty queen sister Gennifer is the town’s “It girl,” a stark contrast to Deb’s exceptional lack of charisma; her closest friend is either the old man who runs the roller skating rink, or the annoying neighbor who’s had a crush on her since he discovered he had a penis. As if all of that weren’t enough for any girl to handle, Deb is queer, and she’s starting to realize that even if that side of her personality doesn’t define her, it makes her a target for high school bullies.
Skating is the only thing that brings Deb joy; the rink is the only place where she can forget her troubles and lose herself in the speed and the exhilaration of living, one blistering lap at a time. Out on the rink, she forgets about her Mom’s ever-present breakdown. She forgets about the fact that Gennifer is dating the town sleaze, and probably using meth. She forgets all about the bullying, the name-calling, and the hundreds of days between now and graduation. Out on the rink, there is only this fleeting moment, and Deb is the one in control. Skating might as well be flying, and Deb is the hottest chick on the hardwood when she straps on eight wheels. Skates? They might as well be wings, and someday she’ll use them to fly away from this town.
Everything changes when Gennifer is kidnapped by her horrible boyfriend, and secrets begin to come out. Deb’s mother turns out not to be more like a legal guardian, the old man who owns the rink might be a troll, and Deb’s discovers magical powers she didn’t know she had. Before she can stop to catch her breath, Deb’s on the trail of a murderous monster and deep in the realm of the bad fae.
And by bad fae, dear reader, I do, of course include trolls.
Not all trolls are baddies, though, and not everyone Deb meets is out to to tear her wings off—just most. She soon meets Harlow, the benevolent loner who takes her in for as long as she’ll stay. A gravel-voiced rock singer who lives in a garbage dump, Harlow may be a troll, but he’s got a heart of gold. The question is, can a girl like Deb learn to trust a fella like Harlow? Deb’s fairy nature keeps her constantly on the move—can Harlow tell her all she needs to know before the lure of an illicit roller derby ring pulls her into its wicked game?
In an odyssey through Amish Rumspringa, biker bars, trailer parks, Bingo halls, flea markets, fairy realms, trolls underworlds, roller derby, tractor pulls, dungeon cells, and rock and roll concerts, Deb slowly uncover her own truth as she tries to do what’s right in all the wrong places. Love her or hate her, once you roll with Deb, you’ll never see the world the same.
Troll Or Derby is now on sale for $.99! Grab it here: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo
About the Author
Red Tash is a journalist-turned-novelist of dark fantasy for readers of all ages. Monsters, SciFi, wizards, trolls, fairies, and roller derby lightly sautéed in a Southern/Midwestern sauce await you in her pantry of readerly delights. Y’all come, anytime.
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March 15, 2013
BOOK LAUNCH: The Sword of Sighs
Today, the Age of the Flame begins…
Sarah Bean lives a quiet life in Okeechobee, Florida until the day when she is transported from our world to the fantastic realm of Seythe. She meets a wayfaring wizard called Ossen who saves her from the dreaded black riders, servants of a being known only as the Fallen One. Together, they will have to undertake a treacherous journey to the far-away Fellhorn mountain where Sarah must find the one weapon that can save them from the black riders pursuing them – The Sword of Sighs.
Available NOW from:
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February 19, 2013
The Sword of Sighs Preview
The night winds droned low and bitter around the snow-crusted flanks of the lone-standing mountain known as Fellhorn. Its forbidding heights were only slightly smoothed by the ice that had settled over its treacherous, beetling crags. Clouds clung, cancerous, to the bone-white breast of the moon, darkening the storm-wracked landscape below.
Sarah Bean ran through the snow, dragging herself along the narrow path ahead. Her teeth chattered and her head ached as the insistent, howling blizzard battered her skull and stung her freezing flesh. Flicking long dark strands of hair from her eyes, she tried to see more clearly where she was going—to no avail. Streaming currents of snow and high-altitude fog swam in, obscuring everything before her. And she well knew what was behind her. The sonorous notes of hunting horns momentarily cut through Nature’s deafening roar.
The Fallen-born were coming.
Forcing her numb feet to run on through the storm, she stumbled and slowed, although her screaming brain demanded speed and dexterity. When she was not grasping at outcrops to keep her balance, she held her arms tight across her chest, trying vainly to trap warmth within. She had never felt such cold before, nor had she been in such a place, not in her life, and never in her dreams. She knew the old saying that a pinch should be enough to awaken someone from a bad dream. But this was no bad dream. This was her Path, and she had to follow it to the end, whatever that might be. So Ossen the Wayfarer had said. But Ossen had been wrong about other things—maybe he was wrong about this too? Maybe she would die here, on the mountain, torn apart by the Fallen One’s Five Shadows.
The storm’s white winds bit harshly at her ears as she listened. They were coming closer. She could hear them over the blasts that came again and again from their horns. Could hear the beating hooves of their corpse-horses, the scraping iron welded onto their skulls and bones. Her heart hurt in her chest as it tried to pump harder, scouring her veins and arteries with stabs of adrenaline. She did not want to look into the eyes of a Fallen-born again. She knew now why Ossen called them Devil-eyes.
The air she breathed was thinning out, but so too was it finally clearing about her, showing her the way. She could see something rising out of the rocks above. A change in the nature of her surroundings. Then, as if a god were catching its breath, the night cleared, the moon shone and it was there before her—the top of the mountain. And glittering in the wan light was the object of power that she sought.
The Sword of Sighs.
Atop the Fellhorn, it was driven into the snow-crusted summit, where it shone like a fallen star. She went to it. She could hear it: low whispers and light sighs, in languages she could not understand, emanated from the shimmering blade.
Further shouts and calls came from the belts of fog below. Her insides felt cold, fluid, and empty as she realised how alien the realm of Seythe truly was. How far away she was from home. Then there was a series of howls, strident, hungry, and close at hand. The tone of their hunting horns rang, victorious and mocking, in her ears. Again came the pounding of hooves, the scraping of iron, the sound of swords being unslung. Sarah no longer looked upon the strange sword before her with fear. It was her only means of survival now. She grasped its hilt with both hands, meaning to draw it out so she could turn and face the gathering darkness.
The howls of the Fallen-born and their hunting horns stilled into silence.
Sarah braced herself against the ground, shaking violently as she tried to pull the sword free from the mountain. It would not move. It might as well have been a part of the stone. She rubbed her hands together and tried again. She could still feel the bite of the storm’s cold in her bones. Death was behind her, coming closer; it had dismounted and drawn five swords from black scabbards.
Tears streamed from her eyes.
She heard the heavy sound of armoured feet crunching through snow and ice. With every muscle screaming, Sarah hauled at the Sword of Sighs one last time.
It would not give. It would not move. It would not come free. The ghostly voices swimming out from it seemed to mock her.
Shoulders sagging, senses and sight failing, she turned to face them without it.
The Fallen-born, sons of shadow and darkness. Their bodies were wasted away, bones and bare muscle showing where greying skin had torn. Their eyes were open red sockets and a yellowish slurry ran from between sharpened teeth diabolically fused with a black iron, which itself smoked and reeked and steamed. That same iron was also one with the rest of their bodies. In their creaking, skeletal hands, they wielded black swords, the blades of which resembled polished ebony glass. One let out its familiar feral howl, and it was joined by another, another, and then another and another, until the chorus they made was an ear-splitting screech. It paralysed her as well as any spell or hypnosis might. The Fallen-born encircled Sarah and closed in on her. She tried to dodge or feint, to get away, but there was no way out. Each of the Fallen-born raised its sword high and then swept the blade down in a screaming arc. The voice of the storm shook the great mountain to its roots.
Sarah licked her dry lips.
Her head fell at the feet of the Fallen-born. And, as darkness hurried in, she heard the storm itself speak: “I take your life again, O Flame. I win.”
And then there was only laughter and the storm’s black thunder.
The Sword of Sighs will be released on 15th March 2013. To join the mailing list for new releases, please use the following link: http://eepurl.com/vfYf9
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January 30, 2013
“What do you fear?” Wednesday welcomes Shea Macleod
This Wednesday I would like to welcome Shea Macleod who has just released, Dragon Goddess, the third book in her series, Dragon Wars.
1) Can you tell me where the idea for the Dragon Wars series came from?
I’ve always been marginally (Okay, a LOT) obsessed with all things apocalypse. Unfortunately, while I love zombie stories, I’m not really a zombie writer. I wanted to do something different for my apocalypse. I remembered a movie I’d seen awhile back called Reign of Fire and I wondered what would happen if dragons suddenly did appear in our world. What would that look like? Where did they come from? How would the survivors deal? Clearly, I don’t have as bleak a vision of such an event as the movie did. Also, I like a splash of romance with everything. Even the apocalypse. I sort of mashed everything together in my strange little brain and voila!
2) You fused a number of genres together in the Sunwalker Saga so what’s the genre mash-up description you would give for these books?
Hmmm…Post-apocalyptic sci-fi romance with a twist of kick ass. 
3) Can you tell me a little about what has happened in the series before Dragon Goddess?
Oh, that’s hard to do without spoilers, but let’s just say there’s been some genetic experimentation, lost memories, reanimation, dragon attacks, explosions, ass kicking and smexoring.
4) Do you think you have achieved what you set out to do with this series so far?
Well, since I don’t really plan very far ahead, I can’t say it did or did not go as planned. I love the way the story, and the world, is shaping up. I think I definitely have achieved what I wanted in that the series approaches the idea of what the future might look like after an apocalyptic event and that there will always be good people and baddies. That just because everything has gone to hell in a hand basket doesn’t mean there isn’t hope for the future. And that women, just like men, are strong, capable, and can totally kick ass. In Dragon Goddess in particular, I tried to tell a redemption story of sorts, and I hope I’ve done that.
5) What can we look forward to in the future from the series?
Funny thing is, this series was only ever supposed to be two books. Then it was 3. Then 4. Now there are 6 books planned with a very great possibility of more beyond that.
There will be a lot more of my new protag, Audrey, in the future. She’s still got a lot of rage inside her. So, her road to redemption isn’t quite over yet. A currently minor character is going to play a pretty big role in the future and that will allow us to see what has happened to the cities. It will also introduce us to some fantastic new antagonists. We haven’t heard the last of the Rev and his band of merry (human sacrificing) men, either. They’re going to rear their ugly heads. AND the Marines are still wandering around wreaking havoc. Don’t forget the ‘creatures’ either. 
6) What else is happening for Shéa MacLeod in 2013?
Ohhhh… Shéa MacLeod is going to be a very busy girl! I’m currently working on the fourth novel in my Sunwalker Saga: Kissed by Moonlight. In addition to that I plan on starting a new series called OMICRON ZX. Think Firefly meets Magnum PI. I hope to have the first book, A Rage of Angels, out before autumn. Naturally I’ll be working on my little Cupcake Goddess Novelettes, as well as short stories with The Eclective and a special Christmas project with my friend and YA author Tara West.
I always post new releases on my blog: http://sheamacleod.wordpress.com/
7) Any last words?
We who are about to die salute you. No?
Okay, how about, “Everything’s better with dragons. Especially the apocalypse.”
Thank you Shea!
Dragon Goddess can be purchased from the following links:
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January 18, 2013
Phobia Friday welcomes Michelle Muto
Today, please join me in welcoming Michelle Muto to Phobia Friday where she will be talking about her new release – The Haunting Season.
1) What attracted you to writing in the first place?
My love of the story within the words. I’ve always loved to read about other worlds, realities, and all things fantastical. Writing was merely a way of putting my own imaginations into words.
2) Tell me more about your new release, The Haunting Season, and its inspirations?
I’ve always loved haunted house stories – The Shining, Hellhouse, The Haunting of Hill House, and Rose Red. After taking a ghost tour in Savannah, Georgia, to the Sorrel-Weed House, I couldn’t stop thinking “What if” and the story was born from there.
The Haunting Season is about four older teens (17-19) who have had a brush with the supernatural. They’re brought to Siler House for a funded experiment in which they’re expected to harness their otherworldly abilities. But the house and the inhabitants have a plan of their own, none of which letting them leave. There’s demons and ghosts and romance, oh my!
3) Dark fantasy, horror and paranormal tend to be the genre labels that are appended to the kind of fiction we both write so I’d be interested in what your feelings are about these tags? Do you think there are any pros or cons to them? Do you think they can be grouped together or should they be kept distinct from one another?
My two cents? It’s probably all a matter of opinion. I’d think that dark fantasy and horror will always contain the true definition of horror itself; dark fantasy most likely having fewer scary/dark scenes than books labelled solely as horror. Paranormal can be anything from light and fluffy to moderately dark. At least, that’s my take. I don’t think they should necessarily be grouped together as long as books can easily fit into more than one category. I liken categories to colors – green is really the combination of blue and yellow. It’s a little of both. And which color would you classify teal under: green or blue? I think stories are that way, too. They can contain elements of a few different categories.
4) The Haunting Season has a classic ghost story set-up that put me in mind of Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and Alexandra Sokoloff’s The Harrowing – what was the attraction for you of writing about such an isolated location like Siler House and individuals who are isolated, literally and/or psychologically? Being separated from the world rather than being a comfortable part of it has always seemed to me to be a key feature of the darker genres in literature.
I think half of what makes a good setup for horror is isolation – physical or mental. In The Haunting Season, the study participants have both burdens to bear: each of them are either ignored or have certain heavy expectations from family and from the study itself. Isolating them physically from the world forced them to think and react in a fashion more adult than their years. We all fear isolation to some extent. Physically, what if we were in a situation with no one else around? What if no one believed you or cared? That fear helps the reader connect with the characters – to be afraid for them.
5) Do you have a favourite ghost story, from literature or otherwise, or a supernatural experience that you’re comfortable talking about? And did you find any personal thoughts or feelings about the supernatural informed your writing of The Haunting Season?
My favorite ghost stories are The Shining, The Haunting of Hill House, a lot of the old Twilight Zone and Night Gallery episodes.
Personal experiences? I’ve seen a few things I can’t readily explain. I’m not saying there’s no scientific explanation, but I try to at least keep an open mind that when we die, it might not be the end of our existence.
As for personal thoughts, I always do research. With The Haunting Season, I learned more about ghost hunting equipment than I ever cared to know. But the real hair-raiser was how much I creeped myself while researching Ouija boards. I thought I knew pretty much all there was to know. I was wrong. If I had known what I do now, I doubt I ever would have played with one as a kid. Illogical, but hey – so is being a little on edge and thinking about ghosts in dark basements and wondering about what might lurk under the bed, right?
6) So what’s next for Michelle Muto? Any last words?
I’ve decided to drag out a trunked novel and do a little revising. It’s much better than I originally gave the book credit for. I guess as categories go, I’d say it straddles the line between dark contemporary fantasy and horror.
Last words? Thanks for the interview. It’s been a lot of fun. For Greg’s fans out there, sweet dreams. You never know what horrors of your imagination he’ll come up with next.
Thank you, Michelle!
If you would like to find out more about Michelle and her work, please visit the following links:
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January 16, 2013
“What do you fear?” Wednesday – Jack Wallen is Hell’s Muse!
What if everything we’ve been taught was a lie?
It’s a question I ask myself all the time and can be applied to nearly every level of existence. What if I’m kidding myself? What if failure is an option. What if traditional publishing isn’t the holy grail for writers? What if Heaven is Hell and Hell is Heaven.
Wait, did I really ask the question of questions that no one wants to ponder? I did. The resultant answer is Hell’s Muse. But it’s much more than an expose on the truth or fiction of the great hereafter. Hell’s Muse was a means to an emotional end. Sometimes writers need to play, and what better playground with which to exercise a few demons than Hell?
It was, quite literally, a dark and stormy night and I wanted to take out a little rage upon the page. It was supposed to be nothing more than one of those “letters” you write to purge yourself of emotions. What happened turned out to be so much more. A story and a world began to unfold. Eventually that story dove into the very pits of Hell and a lot of fun was had. What came of this was a novel within a novel within a novel. The construct not only challenged, but thrilled me. The end result is Hell’s Muse.
This novel is one of my proudest moments as a writer. I took on the challenge to create something unique and important for not just the horror genre, but for writers. I think every author on the planet has experienced some of the feelings expressed in this novel – though they may not have reacted in the same dark way.
In the beginning was the Word – and the word Was a lie.
A struggling writer dives into the dark pits of madness to create his most perfect work – a parallel of his own life, only twisted into a malignant hatred. When the written word opens a gateway to Hell, every truth the writer believes is challenged, every lie made truth.
As a trail of death and sorrow spills from the words, the writer is drawn into an unholy abyss to become Hell’s Muse.
If you want find out more about Jack and Hell’s Muse, please visit the following links:
Get Jack’d: http://www.monkeypantz.net
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