P.D. Alleva's Blog, page 3

Golem Contest & Giveaway

Hello readers, who wants to win a prize?


I do enjoy creating giveaways and handing out prizes to lucky winners. As I continue to publish more and more books, my goal is to list a giveaway with each new book. However, I’ve been so busy preparing Golem for release day the thought of the Golem contest was on the back burner, plus I wasn’t exactly sure what that contest was going to be, and then it hit me on release day, a selfie tour for Golem would be perfect. A simple giveaway that’s so easy to enter a child could do it.


So, let’s get into all the fine details. Here’s what to do and how to enter:

1. Take a pic of your Golem paperback, ebook, or hardcover. Pictures need to include one of the following: you holding your Golem book, maybe with a big old smile or jumping for joy or; a pic of your Golem book with other popular books (Stephen King books would be cool) or; a pic of your Golem book with some classy horror or Halloween decorations around it.

2. Email your picture(s) to pd@pdalleva.com OR post your Golem pic on Facebook and Instagram, tag me in the post, and write something about the book in your post, something nice of course. (FYI: if you do both you receive one entry each, meaning if you email me the pic then post the pic on your Facebook and Instagram accounts you will earn three entries into the contest. The more you post the more entries you earn but don’t forget to tag me in the post. Social media handles are below.)

3. Wait to see if you win.

Extra points given for posts and emails that include your review!

Contest runs until November 17, 2021. Winners will be announced on November 24th, the Wednesday before Black Friday and Cyber Monday.

Also, if you are emailing your pictures you’re allowing me the right to post your pic on social media.

There will be three winners chosen randomly.

Grand Prize: $100 Amazon Gift Card
Second Prize: Golem sweatshirt
Third Prize: Golem Tumbler

Any questions??? Send your questions directly to pd@pdalleva.com

Haven't gotten your copy of Golem yet? Ebooks are available for free in exchange for an honest review. Email me for details.


Social Media Handles:

Instagram: pdalleva_author
Facebook: @pdallevaauthor or simply Paul Alleva


Thank you and good luck on the giveaway.


Yours truly,


P.D. Alleva

Welcome to Golem!

Golem by P.D. Alleva




Release day has arrived!




Golem is now available for your reading eyes to devour. Digital and Paperbacks are on Amazon. Digital also offered through Kindle Unlimited. Hardcovers are available across most major book buying platforms.

It's the perfect Halloween read. Well hell the story begins on Halloween night with a special visit from the Black Eyed Kids.

At a certain point in the story you just have to put the book down and ask yourself, "What was in that Pâté?"

Grab your copy today. Click Here



View all my reviews

Golem Excerpts Week Two: Wanda the wise, the desecration of Sam, and the night Golem is born

Hello Readers:

Welcome to week 2 of the Golem Excerpt Blog series. This week we have three little excerpts for you to sink your teeth into, one excerpt from each of our main characters, Detective John Ashton, Annette Flemming, and Alena Francon.

For this weeks round up we’ll be introduced to the devil in the details with Wanda and Detective Ashton; then we’ll dive into Annette’s dire coaxing of her golden retriever Sam from the closet; and finally we’ll spend a night with Alena in the moments before her statue comes to life.

Excerpts that are sure to get you in the Halloween mood.

Golem is currently available for Preorder on Amazon and will be offered on Kindle Unlimited. Paperbacks also available on Amazon. Hardcovers can be bought across all major book buying platforms. Click here to preorder. Official release is Tuesday October 5th.

Enjoy the excerpts.

~ P.D. Alleva

Excerpt 1: Detective John Ashton meet Wanda the Wise




He was on his way to the elevator when he heard a familiar sound. Three xylophone vibrations, one after the other, followed by a pause, then two more. He stopped in his tracks. His chest tight, and his blood turned cold. John Ashton turned on his heels.
Where did it come from?
He searched over the ward. Patients moving restlessly across the floor, his eyes scanning each and every one of them, when he found Wanda. Her head was down.
Three more vibrations.
Ashton could see the xylophone on her lap, a mallet in her right hand.
Two additional vibrations.
John’s bones rattled with the vibration. His stomach turned. Wanda looked like a child who’d received a new toy she wasn’t aware how to work properly. But why would she play that exact tune? Is there a connection? Is this where Alena received the information? John stomped over to Wanda. She paid him no mind, keeping her head down.
“Wanda?” said John. She gave him no response. “Wanda, why do you play the xylophone like that?”
“Like what?” she said, her voice soft and unassuming.
“Three followed by two. Why? Is there some significance?” Silence as John waited for a response. “Wanda, did someone tell you to play it like that?”
Wanda said nothing. She passed the mallet from her left hand to her right then shifted in her seat, cross-legged and keeping her head down.
“Wanda? You ok?”
She sat motionless.
“It’s ok, Wanda, you’re not in trouble or anything. But I would really like to know.”
John knew all eyes were on him, watching. He could feel those stares roaming over his body, wondering what he was doing. Wanda made no movement.
“No worries, Wanda. Thank you,” he said then went to leave.
“In my dreams,” Wanda, her voice just above a whisper.
John stopped cold. He turned to her.
“I hear them in my dreams. Always three then two. Always.”
“Did Alena play them like that?” he asked. “Did she show you?”
Wanda chewed her lip, shaking her head.
“Ok,” John replied. ‘Thank you,” he said.
“The devil’s in the details, detective,” said Wanda as John was once again about to leave.
He curled his brow. “Come again?”
Now Wanda looked at him with a stare that turned John’s stomach.
“The devil,” she said. “The devil is in the details.”
John shook his head. “Why would you say that?”
Nothing. Wanda clasped her hands behind her back and starting swaying, her eyes lost.
“Did someone tell you to say that?” Johns voice just above a whisper.
Wanda nodded feverishly.
“Yes? Ok, who, Wanda? Who told you to say that? Alena?”
Wanda shook her head violently.
“Who then, Wanda? Who told you?”
Wanda’s hair whipped from one side of her face to the other. John could hear the growl erupting from her throat and his chest constricted, his whole body tensed. Wanda cupped her hands over her ears and Ashton moved back as if she were about to explode.
“G-O-L-E-E-E-E-E-M-M-M!” she screamed. “Golem! Golem! Golem! Golem!” Her head was shaking so violently phlegm and drool whipped across the room, splattering Ashton’s lips.
“It’s ok, Wanda, the officer was just leaving,” Melissa took hold of Wanda’s shoulders and shot John a stare that could have stabbed his heart. “Aren’t you, detective?”
John wiped the drool off his mouth. “Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Wanda calmed at that moment. She put her head on Melissa’s shoulder, started whimpering like a child. Started muttering beneath her breath. As he was leaving Wanda caught his attention once again.
A solid holler. “At night, detective. The devil comes at night.”
The elevator door opened.
"Let it go," John told himself, his heart jumping in his chest. He wanted to get the hell out and as quickly as possible. He entered the elevator and caught Wanda’s stare through the veil of blonde locks covering her face. Thought he was slipping, being drawn into Wanda’s stare. Quickly he shook his head, snapping his focus then his eyes settled on Wanda’s lips. Her voice a whisper but John heard her clearly as if she were whispering in his ear.
“AGIOS O BAPHOMET!”


Excerpt 2: Annette Flemming and the desolation of Sam the golden retriever




Annette Flemming was arguing with her golden retriever, Sam. The dog was curled up in her closet, whining and gagging. The dog had been throwing up for the better part of the last twenty-four hours; he appeared lethargic and wouldn’t eat a thing, not even the human food Annette offered him. Sam crawled into the closet earlier this morning and refused to come out. Annette tried all she could to coax the retriever from the closet, but with no luck.
Naturally she was concerned over the vomiting and included symptoms. What’s gotten into him? Annette thought. She’d gone over the events of the last few days, at first thinking that Sam had gotten into a bag of left over Halloween candy, but she was able to string together a blurred recollection that she gave all the candy bars to little Ivan so she dismissed that possibility. Perhaps the weather, she thought; the rainstorm on Halloween night had brought winter on its heels.
“C’mon Sam, c’mon,” she patted her legs, sitting cross-legged on the carpet outside the closet. All she received were more whines and one bark in between those whines. She wished her husband, Noel, were with her. Annette always felt safe with Noel. Camilla, the help her husband had hired was downstairs scrubbing the kitchen floor–a typical day for Camilla–while singing along to Nat King Cole playing over the radio in Noel’s study. Perhaps Annette would feel better if there were children in the house – someone to pass the time with, someone to feel safe with. Someone more like Annette. But the Flemmings had no plan for children, not in this house or any future house for that matter. No children, husband away – again – and it all added up to one eternal aspect that Annette could not get used to: loneliness. Sam had always been her rock, her companion to pass those lonely hours and days and now it seemed he was throwing in the towel, refusing to come out and obviously sick as a dog.
Sam whimpered, and Annette could hear his breathing was heavy, his chest heaving as his heart hammered.
“C’mon Sam,” Annette tapped her legs again, her voice desperate in spite of her will to project playfully for Sam to come away from the dark closet. Her eyes filled with frustrated tears she wiped clear. “Please, Sam, come out of there.”
“Perhaps a doctor for Sam,” said Camilla, now standing in the bedroom door. Her voice carried a thick South American accent.
Annette had been growing weary of Camilla. Her presence irritated Annette, and her suggestion fueled the irritation. Annette wanted to be left alone, not catered to in a small house she could clearly maintain on her own. Annette rolled her eyes. I don’t need advice, she thought. I’ll take care of Sam on my own. This thought process surprised even Annette; she’d historically been appreciative of Camilla’s contribution, but today that accent annoyed her, like twisting a knife in her ears.
“No, Camilla, he just needs some water and food,” Annette said.
“Si, signora,” Camilla answered. “Should I bring a water dish for Sam?”
“Please, Camilla, that would be great,” said Annette then returned to coaxing Sam from the closet, now lying on his side in a panting fever. “Oh, Sam,” she said. Perhaps a doctor is best, she thought, but neither Annette nor Camilla had the ability to drive so far out on the Island, which meant they would need to take a train. Annette hated trains; being so close to other people made her skin crawl. No need, she thought, he’ll be fine, he just needs water and food. Dogs get sick just like people do, let him flush it out with a good bowl of water. Annette sighed and gave up her coaxing efforts. Just for now, she thought. If Sam isn’t better within a few hours she would take the train. She went to the stairs where Camilla, dish of water in hand, was returning.
“Thank you, Camilla,” Annette said allowing Camilla to pass on her way to the master bedroom.
“No problems, Mrs. Flemming,” said Camilla.
Annette watched as Camilla made her way down the hall into her bedroom. “Master Sam,” she said. “Water for you.” Annette watched amazed as Sam hobbled from the closet to Camilla’s carefully placed bowl.
“Not on the carpet,” Annette said as Sam started to lap his tongue into the bowl.
Camilla looked at Annette feverishly. “It’s ok, I clean,” she told Annette then returned her eyes to Sam’s lapping. “Water for you, Master Sam.”
Annette watched Sam drink as if he’d been riding in a desert, and water was the dog’s only reprieve, watched as water splashed and splattered on the carpet. Annette shook her head, her jaw tight taking the stairs down where she stopped abruptly, looking over her home. Theirs was the only house with two floors in the neighborhood, a fact she’d welcomed with pride, considering the neighbors and their untrustworthy treatment Annette experienced the day they moved in. People always have something to say, she thought then. She’d been immediately put off by the neighbors. At least she had a husband who went out and made something of himself and wasn’t looking for handouts like everyone else. She couldn’t wait to get out of the neighborhood. Even more she couldn’t wait for the moving truck to be outside their house, for the For Sale sign to be erected on their lawn.
Now Camilla started hollering, “Mrs. Flemming, Mrs. Flemming, it's Master Sam…please come…please,” in that accent that drove Annette wild with rage.
Annette rushed to the stairs whispering under her breath, “Can’t do anything right,” on her hurried way up, and “What is it, Camilla?” while she trampled down the hall.
“It’s Master Sam,” Camilla called. “He’s bleeding.”


Excerpt 3: Alena Francon and the night Golem is born




She completed the statue after midnight on December twenty-sixth. He became more than she had imagined. Delicate yet strong, courageous although compassionate, a leader who captured the pain of his people on his shoulders, and in his eyes.
Completed and marveled over, yet his manifestation brought Alena a sense of loneliness. She’d obsessed over him for so long, now that he was complete, she experienced loss. And she wanted more from him. "I love you," she told him, standing with a bottle of wine in one hand, a glass in the other, sipping slowly as she had been most of the day. Now the wee hours of early morning (three am) brought silence. And with the silence, the air changed with a sting of winter cold.
She’d lit a fire, which burned relentlessly, casting shadows on the walls. The crackling, popping wood received a breath of air from the chimney, raging the fire into a fury. Windows, buffeted by the outside wind, seemed to be on the verge of splintering, cracking, and caving with shards of glass blown across the sitting room.
She took a sip of wine, held the acidic liquid on her tongue before swallowing. Her eyes, stiff and staring, gleamed admiration and frustration.
“Tell me your name,” she whispered. His eyes were brought alive by the flames that didn’t reflect off the marble, but were capturedby it, swallowed by his soul. She wanted to lie in his arms, to fold herself in his embrace. To take that hand in hers, the hand that stretched toward her, palm up, as if he summoned her to him. Take my hand. Give yourself to my embrace. Kiss my eyes, my forehead, my lips. Declare your love for me. An undying, forever love, and I will protect and keep you always. Neither sickness nor tragedy will ever befall you. The world will appear beautiful, always.
She went to him and for a brief moment she thought he moved. That he was watching her, anticipating her every movement, willing her to him. Both glass and bottle dropped from her hands. The glass shattered. Bottle clanged against the marble tile then rolled to a stop; wine gurgled from the open bottleneck. Alena heard neither. She stepped on the stool beside the base, never turning her eyes from his. She placed her hand in his and as she stepped up it was as if his hand had helped her.
Her lips were shaking when she said, “I dream of you. Every night. I close my eyes and you’re there. When I wake, you are still there.” She leaned her head in his palm, gazing into those fiery eyes. “Wake up,” she said. “Please wake up. For me. For love and for beauty. Let me look on you with admiration and wonder.” Shadows flickered across the statue, providing an appearance of slight subtle movements. Her eyes, wide and staring, wanting to will life into the statue as a single tear fell from her right eye. Alena caught inside the pain from the past, as if the devil’s hand captured sadness and squeezed it into her heart. Tears now in both eyes, she lifted her head from his hand, Alena’s fingertips gently caressing the palm lines she’d created. And the tears fell into his palm.
“I gave you a long life,” she referred to the palm lines she crafted then looked at him. “You should be grateful.” Alena wiped the tears off his palm. Brushed those wet hands across the smock she wore then wiped her eyes as she sniffled. And she laughed. Laughed at herself. At the ridiculous wish that this statue would respond. That she wantedthe statue to spring to life. To take her in his embrace and never let go. She glanced at his eyes hoping he would turn those flames in her direction. “No?” she said then shook her head turning away, her eyes roaming. To the floor, to the ceiling, to the walls and fireplace, avoiding his eyes because she knew he would not look at her, and she hated him for it. This statue, born from the depths of her soul, was already gone. Had already abandoned and betrayed her, refusing to manifest her wish and desire.
Alena took the bottle off the floor by the neck and walked with grace to the fireplace. The crackling fire devoured its wood prey as she watched the statue reflected in the Victorian mirror above the mantle, hoping and praying that he would move now that she wasn’t in front of him. Paying no mind to the sweat, soot, and marble dust disturbed by smeared tears on her face. Her greasy hair seemed like marble in the way the hair matted within thick gobs across the forehead and down the back of her neck. She set the bottle on the mantle and her eyes fell on the letter, still sealed. In front of the letter was the gypsy statue, and she looked on it with a puzzled stare as if she’d never laid eyes on the gypsy before.
For protection.She heard these words as if they came from the dark recesses of her mind. Something that had been locked away but now peeked its head through a crack in the door and requested entrance to Alena’s thoughts. To survey if the coast was clear and all was safe before revealing itself.
She took up the statue and, as if a trap door had opened, the memories flooded into conscious thought. Alena saw the gypsy woman, the palm reading, and the goat. Remembered how sick she’d gotten, the hospital, and the aftermath. Her stomach wrenched with a stinging pain, acid gurgled in the back of her throat. She tightened her grip on the statue. Her hand was trembling, lips quivering, and the memories drove into consciousness. But she did not believe them. Did not believe that any such circumstances had taken place. Alena questioned her sanity as she stood by the fire glaring at the statue trembling within a shaking grip. The fire served as a backdrop framing the gypsy statue. She heard Crystal’s voice. “We thought the gypsy woman had something to do with it.”
"Did I hear her right?" Alena thought. She turned to her statue as if believing he would offer an answer. “Is it even real?” she hollered. How did this gypsy figurine find the fireplace mantle? The memory surfaced, being handed the small gypsy statue by Maleva. Then she saw the gypsy statuette on the carpet before losing consciousness so many months prior. Those tender gypsy eyes staring, unmoving, as Alena’s eyes closed.
It all seemed like a dream. Like drifting within a waking trance with no understanding where reality began, and the dream ended. Had this statue been on the mantle all these months? How could I not have noticed it before today?Because she never looked or gave so much as a glance at the mantle, diverting her eyes from the letter every time she stoked the fire. No, she was certain the figurine was not on the mantle earlier that day and without a doubt was not present when she’d added wood to the fire a few hours ago. She could not be certain about the memories, however real they now seemed. Or Crystal’s declaration. She could be filling gaps in her memory attempting to make sense of this new revelation.
“Did you…” her voice trailed off glaring at her statue, her new man unmoving with the exception of the shadows that animated his resonating bones. Her stomach twisted, acid gagged her throat. She dropped to her knees and vomited, feeling the goat inside her. A lingering sensation eliciting pressure in her abdomen.
“Can’t be,” she pleaded. “None of this is possible.” She cried, tears streaming from her eyes, down those thin cheeks, pooled on the jawline where they hung briefly before falling in small drips to the floor. She coughed and gagged as the fire’s heat burned her skin.
Her body shook. She gazed at the gypsy in her hand, clenching the statue. “You took everything from me.” Lips quivering. She squeezed the statue. “EVERYTHING!” Her face constricted squeezing with angered rage. The gypsy cracked in her hand, slicing through her palm as she squeezed even more. Blood dripping in streams escaped between her fingers. Her fist was trembling and when she opened her hand, small crushed porcelain pieces fell to the floor. Remaining in her palm was the statue’s backside and she could now see the evil eye staring at her. An eye had been painted on the inside.
For protection.
That’s what Maleva had said. The gypsy statue meant protection for whomever it was given to. The only protection I needed was from you.She let the remains drop from her palm and she sat on her legs, cradling the bloodied hand.
“My God!” she cried holding the trembling blood streaming hand close to her chest as she rocked back and forth. “I’ve completely lost it.” Her body jerked. Alena’s legs flopped from beneath her and she sat now on her backside, holding her wrist watching and staring as the blood kept coming. Bleed to death, she thought. For all I care.
Life is a cruel trick that God gets off on playing.
And hope is nothing more than a delusion.
She raised her head, her eyes to the back of her skull. She saw the goat. Heard that clunking bell as the beast mounted the cot. The thought disgusted every inch of her skin, tainted every thought, and constricted every muscle.
She felt Maleva’s hands on her wrists.
Alena stood.
She heard the bell. Heard the baa.
Alena went to the statue, herstatue.
She saw the goat snicker. Her lips trembled.
Alena was gazing at the statue with no ability to see the statue.
She heard Maleva chanting, AGIOS O BAPHOMET!
Alena held her clenched fist high over her head, squeezing the blood into droplets that fell from her palm.
AGIOS O BAPHOMET!
“You come to me,” she said, her voice gripped with anger. “You come or I will be no more.” Blood dropped on the base—“DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”—streaming down the base where the thick liquid pooled to where the marble protruded from the smoothness like an overhang for the floor. Alena scowled at the statue, whose eyes raged with fire. She dropped her fist. “Hear me,” she whispered. But the statue remained silent, unmoving and unwavering.
“You’re all I have,” she said, her head now bowed staring at the blood droplets cascading down the marble as if the stone was slashed by bloodied talons.
Now, outside, snow arrived with a relentless fury that turned night into a blanket of white reflected by the moon. The fury pelted the windows like white hail.
Alena shook her head. She walked away, to her room to attempt to find some form of peace within sleep. A rest that took her willingly and quickly. Should she have stayed to watch the furious falling blankets of white she would have seen how her blood was absorbed into the marble. She would have known he was arriving. She would have witnessed a transformation that could only be born from the depths of agony.

A visit on Halloween, a new assignment, and the Gypsy: Golem Excerpts

Hello Readers:

Thank you for your interest in reading a few Golem excerpts. What we have below are three excerpts, one from each of the main characters introduced in the Character Introduction Blogs from the previous weeks.

All excerpts are spoiler free and provide a good introduction to Annette Flemming, Detective John Ashton, and Alena Francon. Just enough to get you into the mood for Halloween and the horror novel Golem.

Golem will be released on October 5th in digital, paperback and hardcover formats. Digital format also available on Kindle Unlimited. Click here to preorder.

Enjoy the excerpts.

Regards,

~ P.D. Alleva

Excerpt 1: Annette Flemming: Halloween 1951 with her golden retriever, Sam.



Sam scuffled to the bathroom door.
“Oh, Sam,” Annette said. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”
Sam sat in front of the bathroom door, panting as if he’d run a few miles, a whining, fearful wheeze beneath his breath. His tongue dripped across his canine teeth.
Knock. Knock!
Sam whimpered, rolled his tongue in, and backed away from the bedroom door. Annette surveyed the room. Another trick-or-treater? Maybe, she thought, but at this late hour? Anything is possible. She looked in the mirror, stretched her nose to make sure all the blood was gone (it was), then took a glance through the open window. The street was empty although leaves were bustling in the wind being carried on its heels.
Thunder!
Lightning!
Strong wind getting stronger!
She closed the window and locked it, then pulled off her towel—wiping some dried blood from her chest with it—and tossed her nightgown over her shoulders followed by a thick velvety robe.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. KNOCK!
Is this a joke, she thought and hurried to the hall, knotting the robe around her stomach as she stomped to the stairs when lightning and thunder rolled together.
Knock! Knock!
Maybe they need help?
Knock!
She raced down the stairs.
Knock, knock. More like a tapping this time. Or maybe a rapping. She couldn’t remember which one.
Rap Rap Rap.
She approached the door, reached for the dead bolt, and paused. Her hand pulled away from the lock as if it had a mind all its own. Her left hand on the doorknob, her right hand found the middle of the door and gently rested on the thick wood. She stretched her neck to the window. Staring back were those kids, and Annette recoiled from the window. Her stomach churned.
Rap Rap.
She was about to scream but held her hand over her mouth instead. “Who is it?” she stuttered, a crack in her speech.
The voice that answered was monotone and matter of fact. She couldn’t tell if it were boy or girl. “May we come in?”
“Why do you need to come in? Was there an accident? Do you need an ambulance?”
“May we come in?”
Pause. Brow furrowed. She pursed her lips and swallowed.
“Where are your parents? Aren’t they with you?”
Another pause.
“They’ll be here soon. May we come in?”
Annette nervously and slowly peeked through the window. As if this was anticipated, the little one was looking, staring, blank faced and…peculiar. Yes- the clothes were tattered, but what does that mean, their parents are poor? Probably trick-or-treating in the good neighborhood. But there was more not yet revealed. Their eyes, Annette thought. What’s wrong with their eyes? The little one, boy or girl she wasn’t sure although the dress definitely indicated girl, was mesmerized and blank faced. And the eyes. Yes, Annette could see it now. Her eyes were pitch black! No pupils, no iris, just jet, metallic bulging black eyeballs.
It was the older one who continued to speak through the door. “May we come in? Our parents will be here soon.”
Annette noticed Sam wasn’t barking. Noticed Sam wasn’t anywhere close to Annette.
“May we come in?”
Thunder! Lightning! Annette’s breath stuttered, constricted. She snapped her head around, looking through the hallway. Pitter patter pelts of rain snapped against the back windows. Lightning illuminated an empty backyard.
There’s no one there, no one out back. Am I going to leave needy children out in a rainstorm?
Then the little girl said, “Let us in!” Annette knew it came from the little one because the voice changed. Although still monotone there was a softness to it only little children carried.
The wind lifted into a frenzy. The rain fell hard now, showering the windows. Thunder. Lightning. Wind. Rain. Heavy rain.
“Can we come in?”
“Parents will be here soon.”
“Let us in.”
Annette caught sight of Sam at the top of the stairs. The retriever cowered in anticipation of Annette’s next move. Now the storm strengthened with a swirling, squall filled wind that howled through the house. She gripped the dead bolt, and Sam whimpered and whined and rushed down the hall to the bedroom.
“It’ll be all right,” she said. “They’re just kids.”


Excerpt 2: Detective John Ashton: The war hero gets his badge and his first assignment.



He could taste it like a tinge of metal on his tongue. He was about to receive his first assignment. Like a bloodhound on the scent of a hot trail, his anticipation brought him to the edge of his seat.
“Do you know district attorney Charles Xavier?”
Hearing that name formed goose bumps on John’s arms. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Of course he knew DA Xavier, his daughter had gone missing almost two years ago. The investigation was still ongoing. High profile case too. John’s apt anticipation took a turn into pure one hundred percent excitement. Couldn’t believe it really, his blue eyes gleamed with that same excitement and he did all he could to taper down that smug, way-too-happy smile. This is about a missing child. Mental check: learn to hide your excitement.
“Not personally but I have kept up on the investigation regarding his daughter. As much as I possible could with limited access and…”
“It’s a dead end,” Knowles interrupted him. Maybe he didn’t like the excitement he saw in Ashton’s face. Maybe he had no time for new recruits and their let’s save the world attitude. Maybe he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Still, his “dead end” declaration was disappointing. “I’m sure that child is calling someone else mommy and daddy right now or fertilizing daffodils. Either way, the politics in the situation is obviously paramount. We’ve exhausted all avenues over the last year. Came up empty and still empty. We normally would close this case but considering it’s the DA, as a courtesy, it’s still open.” John listened, waiting, anticipating, eager for the assignment to be handed to him; he could feel it in his bones. “However, there is a new lead.” Knowles looked up from his pad, his brown eyes stiff as if he was sizing up his new detective, looking for any sign that could break him. Knowles rolled his tongue inside his cheek and sat back, still holding his pen over the pad he’d scribbled on. “Have you ever heard of Alena Francon?”
The name did ring a bell, although John couldn’t place a face with the name. “Sounds like high society,” is what spat out of John’s mouth.
The captain didn’t laugh as John expected. He sat there, stiff and staring mindlessly at John
“High society is just the tip of the iceberg with this one. Remember the ClairField Hotel?”
John did remember the ClairField. Who in New York didn’t, especially after a fire ravaged and destroyed the hotel earlier in the year?
“Of course,” John replied. “Did she have something to do with the fire?”
“Officially, no. Officially hot coals left unattended by the destruction crew started the fire. Unofficially, we have reason to believe she is the reason for the fire. A few firemen pulled her out, a bit delirious too. Kept going on and on about the children. Had a delirious story to go with it.”
John crinkled his brow. “Story?”
Now Captain Knowles laughed, more like a chuckle of disbelief. His eyes were cast down, as if he’d found some bug on the floor. “Said the Golem had kidnapped and was holding captive a horde of children in the hotel.”
To this John perked up. “Really? Did they find any remains?”
Captain shook his head, and brushed his shirt off then sat forward. “None. We ceased the search after hearing her story.” He laughed again. “She indicated this Golem is a statue that came to life.”

Excerpt 3: Alena Francon: In the back room with the Gypsy



She awakened with a heavy gasping inhale. Alena had been placed on a cot, which she surmised was in the shop’s back room. Sweat beaded her face and forehead. And she felt sick, her stomach wrenched, and her head weary. Maleva, her back to Alena, stirring a pot on a small half stove on the far end of the room.
“You sick,” Maleva said continuing to keep her back to Alena. Daylight struggled to find its way into the room through the room’s single window that had either been painted black or was covered in soot from years of neglect, giving a dark soft glow to the room that could not have been any larger than six feet by five feet.
She remembered vomiting. Remembered passing out in Maleva’s arms.
Whatever Maleva was concocting she mixed frantically as if the recipe called for furious mixing or she was hurried due to a lack of time. “I’m making a tonic. It’ll help with the sickness.” Her voice was different, hoarse, but somehow high pitched as if there was a snicker behind the thickness. “Old gypsy remedy,” she said pouring the liquid into a small cup. The scent was God-awful; it turned Alena’s stomach into a wrenching, grinding twist of boiling acid. Alena draped her legs over the side of the cot. The cement floor was cold to her bare feet. She wondered where her shoes were. She held her head in her left hand, her right hand across her stomach.
“Always safe…” Maleva said forcing the cup into Alena’s left hand. “For those with child.”
The dark liquid steamed from the cup. Alena turned her nose away.
“Drink,” Maleva said. “You will be better soon.”
I want to go home, Alena thought. To lie down in her own bed, beneath the sheets and nurse herself back to health. To comfort her baby.
“Drink,” Maleva repeated forcing Alena’s hand—and cup—to her lips. “You have fever.”
She was hot, burning even, her head seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, difficult to hold up, and she was fighting off the need to flop back down on the cot and stay. Alena wanted her own bed, not this decrepit cot in this small dark back room. Not with the gypsy woman. Away from the darkness to the comfort and light of the ClairField where she’d always felt strong and delighted.
“Drink,” Maleva said. “Drink and feel better.”
Alena stared into the cup through wet, narrow eyes. Steam rose from the cup and circled her head, as if the steam forced her head down and her lips to the brim. The thought of her mother passed through her mind. She’d always possessed an aggressive demeanor. If her mother were here now she’d be telling Maleva exactly where to stick her cup. But she wasn’t here. Alena was alone. Alone with the exception of Maleva, standing and hovering like a brick wall, guarding against Alena’s escape.
Or attempting to stay Alena’s eyes from the goat in the corner sitting on its hind legs wrapped and shaded in darkness. The room buzzed with waves of unrelenting continuous vibrations. A slight humming beneath the buzz as Alena’s eyes rolled behind limp eyelids then resurfaced on the goat. Its chin raised high and proud, the goat watched Alena through the corner of its black eyes as if anticipating Alena’s response. No baa, only silence, and Alena noticed a cowbell tied around the goat’s neck. She thought the goat smiled but dismissed the notion. Maleva brought the goat inside when Alena passed out. Why wouldn’t she, after the bridesmaids’ taunts? Of course she would demand the goat come inside.
She could never remember drinking, but she knew she did. She remembered the taste, like drinking liquid dirt and the pain that followed. Like acid depleting her insides. Remembered hearing Maleva say, “Good girl. Good girl,” as she took the cup from Alena’s hand. And how Maleva changed then as if somehow she’d become lighter and younger as if the stress of old age was torn from her thoughts.
Maleva escorted Alena through the shop where sunset beamed through the windows with a gold tint that drove the beat generation into a frenzied cycle of cheer and high energy.
Sunset, Alena thought. How long have I been here? She remembered telling the bridesmaids she’d meet them for a late lunch and now evening was ushered across the city. She couldn’t recollect the last few hours. Had she been sleeping the entire time? She stood at the door, almost afraid to leave and venture through the street festival. She thought they’d pass judgment, thinking she was some fall-down high society drunk.
“A gift for you,” Maleva said, standing behind her.
Alena turned and Maleva was holding that small statue, the gypsy statue she’d said provided protection.
“Will you take it?” Maleva again, her eyes staring. Alena thought she looked younger.
Will she ever let me leave? Alena thought. She took the statue. And Maleva smiled, her head bowed.
“Manners, my dear,” Maleva said and for a brief moment Alena was confused. A perplexed gaze on her countenance. “For the statue,” Maleva said. “A gift.”
Alena looked at the statue in her hand and those beady little eyes that watched her. She wanted to smash the statue and run; to curse Maleva for whatever had taken place in this shop; for whatever atrocities Maleva had subjected her to while unconscious. Alena’s skin crawled. Felt that stinging pain in her stomach.
“Thank you,” Alena said in a soft hush.
Again, a smile from Maleva and Alena noticed how white her teeth now were as the memory of Maleva’s yellow grin passed through her thoughts. Alena squeezed the statue.
“You go,” Maleva said. She opened the door for Alena.
“Go,” she repeated. “And may the gods be with you.”

'Golem' character Intro: Introducing Annette Flemming

Neighbor. Wife. Karen.

Annette Flemming leads a lonely life confined to her home while her husband, Noel, is away on business. They’ve done well for themselves, the Flemmings have, rising in the ranks of the social elite from a small apartment in Queens to a new home on Long Island, Annette’s doing her best to adjust to suburban life, but those damn nosy neighbors won’t relent with their petty judgments and insipid jealousy.

Sure, the Flemmings were able to hire a helping hand, a bit more than a step above in this suburban neighborhood, and Annette is that neighbor that keeps the lights off on Halloween, well, on most years that is, but to hell with the neighborhood. Now that Annette has found a confidant in Alena Francon things have changed for the better, or at least that’s how they seem.

But now that Alena’s been committed under duress to Bellevue’s psychiatric facility, Annette spends those lonely days and nights with a bottle of scotch and her trusted golden retriever, Sam, indulging in the many terror filled literature of Poe and Lovecraft.

Was that a knock on her door? On Halloween too no doubt. But at this late hour? Who could it be, rapping on Annette’s door?



Author Note: For the last of the Golem character introductions I had to include Annette Flemming. Yes she is a Karen, the type of person who leaves the lights off during Halloween, and always has something nasty to say, with no filter what so ever. Annette’s transformation in the story is wrought with anguish, loneliness, and it all began with a knock on her door. My goal was for the reader to despise Annette, allowing her to get under the readers skin and irritate it like rash that just won’t go away. Perhaps a kinder human would sympathize with Annette’s situation, but then again, maybe they won’t, she is a first rate bitch.


Golem is currently available for Preorder on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited by following this link.

Hardcovers and Paperbacks will be available on release day October 5, 2021.

If you enjoy free books and book clubs, we are currently reading Golem as our September read in the PD Alleva Reader Group and Book Club. Would love to see you there. Click here to join the discussion.

~ PD Alleva

'Golem' Character Intro: Introducing Detective John Ashton

Detective. War Hero. Medium.

John Ashton has a secret, a secret he keeps buried deep inside his subconscious, fearful that others will see him as different should he allow his secret to be known. His mother referred to it as ‘the seeing;’ the ability to see what hides beneath the surface, behind the lies, and in between the folds of time.

John Ashton is a cop, an NYPD flatfoot who’s recent collar earned him his promotion to detective in the missing persons unit of the NYPD. His first case is to find the DA’s missing daughter, Isabelle; a high profile case that when solved could earn John accolades and accommodations for the rest of his career. Unfortunately his only lead is Alena Francon, a high society sculptor and philanthropist committed under duress to Bellevue’s Psychiatric Facility. John’s never had any experience with mental illness, and Alena’s story seems like a wild goose chase to the young detective, considering the fact that there’s not one person who corroborates Alena’s surreal claim that she incarnated a demonic presence into a statue she created in 1947. The same demonic presence she claims has kidnapped the DA’s daughter.

Problem is, Alena is his only lead, and according to Captain Knowles, John’s responsible for following up on any claims, no mater how insane they may seem. If he could just find someone who would shed some light on Alena’s story perhaps he’d have a bit more to go on. After all, inanimate objects don’t magically come to life. Do they?


Author Note: One of the many themes addressed in Golem is the theme of self-deception within each character and how they manipulate themselves or rather, allow themselves to be manipulated, and John Ashton is no exception to this rule of thumb. His internal conflict with the so called ‘seeing’ part of himself is based on societal norms, shame, and fear, resulting in self-denial, stuffing down the clairvoyant part of himself out of fear of being judged and seen as insane rather than the insightful police officer he is. Shame follows our young detective through the busy Manhattan streets, as he searches Alena Francon’s claims about an inanimate object that she purports has come to life to strangle the very breath of society. But is he going to need that seeing part of him to confront the demonic presence that is Golem? Hmm, seems we will just have to find out those answers on October 5th, Golem’s official release day.

Golem is currently available for Preorder on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited by following this link.

Hardcovers and Paperbacks will be available on release day October 5, 2021.

If you enjoy free books and book clubs, we are currently reading Golem as our September read in the PD Alleva Reader Group and Book Club. Would love to see you there. Click here to join the discussion.

~ PD Alleva

Introducing Alena Francon: Main Protagonist from Golem, a psychological horror novel

Introducing Alena Francon

Artist. Philanthropist. Sculptor.

Alena Francon enjoys the simple things in life; friends, wine, art, and good conversation. After her parents death Alena inherited the Francon Mansion on Long Island, and the ClairField Inn in Manhattan. Her philanthropic endeavors have provided Alena with a stellar reputation among the New York social elites including actors, writers, mayors, government officials, and the NYPD.

But here’s the rub in the Alena Francon story, she’s been committed to Bellevue’s psychiatric facility for the past nine months, the result of a mental breakdown and possible schizophrenia. She keeps the doctors and staff on their toes and on high alert, considering that she’s exhibited acts of violence towards staff. Alena’s violent exploits even landed a staff member in the ICU after Alena cracked his skull against a wall.

Plus, she’s been indulging in her delusions. According to Alena she incarnated a demonic presence into a statue she sculpted in 1947, a demon with the name Golem.

When Alena sees a picture of the District Attorney’s missing daughter, Isabelle, in a newspaper she begins to raise holy hell, demanding to provide her story to the police. Alena purports to know the whereabouts of the DA’s daughter. According to Alena, Isabelle’s become one of Golem’s demonic minions, continuing to wreak havoc on the good people of New York.

Now if she could just get someone to believe her story, perhaps Golem’s reign will come to an end. But when you know the devil is always in the details, who can you trust?


Author Note: Alena was a combination of more than three women, all of whom have had a large impactful role over the course of my life. Alena is gentle but strong, fearful yet courageous, and intelligent although naïve when it comes to matters of the heart and the streets. My goal with Alena was for the reader to fall absolutely head over heels for Alena Francon, wanting, hoping, and wishing for her to overcome and turn Golem’s plan on its head. Walking side by side with a character, through all the hell they endure, the hardships, victories, and battles of the heart and soul connects the reader in a way that relates the reader to the character in a most profound manner. I want the reader to be in Alena’s mind and skin. Want them to feel as she does, with all the fear, terror, and hope, even during the most dire and hopeless turn of events. Alena is an angel, that’s for sure. Check her out, I do believe you’ll enjoy what you find.

Golem is currently available for Preorder on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited by following this link.

Hardcovers and Paperbacks will be available on release day October 5, 2021.

If you enjoy free books and book clubs, we are currently reading Golem as our September read in the PD Alleva Reader Group and Book Club. Would love to see you there. Click here to join the discussion.

~ PD Alleva

'Golem' Fun Facts

I do enjoy doing research, especially when that research has to do with history, and even more so, the history of my hometown New York. Considering that Golem takes place in the 1940’s and early 1950’s I needed to make sure I had the history and timeline of events spot on for the book, including the culture, fashion, what was the most popular candy for Halloween, and yes, even the misdeeds.

So, here’s a few details, some fun facts about the 'Golem' story:

- Charleston Chews were the most popular candy in 1951
- Top costume in 1951 for Halloween was Alice in Wonderland
- The ClairField Inn is based on an actual hotel, although it was called the Claremont Inn.
- The winter blizzard that erupts over Alena’s Mansion on the night Golem is born was a real blizzard that shut down NYC the day after Christmas in 1947-I thought it was cool that he was born during a bitter cold blizzard.
-The gypsy woman, Maleva, in the Golem story is based on the gypsy character from the old black and white Lon Chaney Jr. classic film, The Wolf Man. In the film, iconic film actress, Maria Ouspenskaya, plays the gypsy. The Wolf Man is one of my favorite all time movies and the gypsy woman has captivated my psyche for the better part of my existence. I kept the first name of the film character, Maleva, and altered Maria’s last name just a bit to pay homage to a character that has provided incredible influence across a lifetime.
- All scandals, controversy, and misdeeds referenced in the book are real and factual, according to the research at least. I found it ironic how scandalous the era was, considering I was writing a book with a scandalous nature, all references fit in perfectly with the narrative. Well, except one, inanimate objects don’t come to life, do they?
- The quote I’ve been pimping out over the last few months-“Books and movies are like a blueprint. A survival manual disguised as fiction. As folklore. Because the truth hides in plain sight and those that see have to hide and those that can’t see, well, they’re just a part of the plan”-promoting ‘Golem’ is based on the author notes from the novel, Dracul, by Dacre Stoker and JD Barker. In the author notes the authors reference that Bram Stoker believed his novel, Dracula, was a true and accurate account of a real vampire and that his novel was a warning to the public about these vicious creatures of darkness. Now that’s some cool shit IMO. Great book Dracul, definitely recommended.

I could go on and on, but not spoilers here, so we can discuss all that at a later time.

Golem is currently available for preorder with an official release date of October 5, 2021. Paperbacks and Hardcovers will be available across most major book buying platforms. Ebook will be available on Amazon and through Kindle Unlimited for the first three months after release day.

To preorder follow this link: Golem PreOrder

For advanced reader copies feel free to join the PD Alleva Reader Group and Book Club on Facebook. Golem is our current book club read and we'd love for you to join us in the discussion. Follow this link to join: Book Club

Until next time, be bold, be brilliant, and be reading!

~ PD Alleva

Golem Cover Reveal

“An extraordinary psychological horror book. Excellently written, with a twisted, spiraling, unexpected end that will leave you speechless.” ~ TBM Horror Experts



We will be reading Golem by P.D. Alleva in the PD Alleva Book Club on Facebook. eBook copies of 'Golem' are available for Free to all group members in exchange for an honest review. To join the group click here



Would love to see you there. More to come in the blog and if you're not a Facebook Fan feel free to reach out to me for a free eBook copy.

Book Description:

Detective. Angel. Victim. Devil.

A haunting tale of suspense, loss, isolation, contempt, and fear.

On November 1, 1951, war hero John Ashton was promoted to detective. His first assignment: find the district attorney’s missing daughter. But his only lead is Alena Francon, a high society sculptor and socialite committed to Bellevue’s psychiatric facility.

Alena has a story for the new detective. A story so outlandish John Ashton refuses to heed the warning. Alena admits to incarnating Golem, a demonic force, into her statue. A devil so profound he’s infiltrated every part of New York’s infrastructure. Even worse, he uses children to serve as bodily hosts for his demonic army, unleashing a horde of devils into our world.

When Alena’s confidant, Annette Flemming, confirms the existence of Golem, John is sent on a collision course where fate and destiny spiral into peril, and the future of the human race hangs in the balance.

The Devil Is In The Details!

Fans of The Silence of the Lambs, Clive Barker, John Connolly, old Stephen King, and Anne Rice will be fascinated by this edge of your seat psychological horror thriller with a story that rips out the heart of humanity and throws it on a slab to be feasted on.

Golem: A Horror Novel LIVE EVENT

Hello Readers:

I recently scheduled an event for the upcoming horror novel, Golem and wanted to share the event details. The event will take place on August 19, 2021 from 1PM-4PM AND 9PM-11PM EST in the PD Alleva’s Alternative Fiction Reader Group and Book Club on Facebook. That’s five hours of supreme horror content capable of satisfying any horror or terror filled itch that may come your way. ‘Golem’ represents the first book that will be read in the PD Alleva Book Club group with the August 19th event kicking off this unique celebration. This is an exclusive event for group members

Each hour will include information about the book, the story, the characters, and the many inspirations behind the ‘Golem’ story, a deeply profound psychological horror novel by PD Alleva, including games, trivia contests, and prizes such as ‘Golem’ hardcovers, t-shirts, tumblers, beanies, and gift cards. All participants will receive a FREE ebook copy (mobi or epub) of ‘Golem’ in exchange for an honest review. Participation in the book club discussion is encouraged and appreciated but not required for your ebook copy. Book club discussion will begin on August 23, 2021, with the first round of questions beginning on August 30, 2021.

Participants are encouraged to ask interview questions for each character, participate in games and trivia contests, and participate in a Q&A with the author. We are planning for a fully interactive experience and hope that you can all join in what will be an epic event.

Event details and schedule are below. ‘Golem’ will be released on October 5, 2021, just in time for Halloween. I’ll update everyone as needed prior to the event. Event is open to members of the PD Alleva Alternative Fiction Reader Group and Book Club; feel free to join the group to participate by following this link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/pdsth...

Welcome to PD LAND. Welcome to Golem. Leave your insecurities at the door, this is a horror novel after all; you’ll need all your strength and courage to survive.

See you at the event,

~ P.D. Alleva

For updates on the event please follow the event page here: https://www.facebook.com/events/86876...




“Golem is an extraordinary psychological horror book. The characters get deep into your mind. Their brokenness both terrifies and fractures you. With his addictive narration and unusual horrific (somehow poetical) elements, PD Alleva will make you fall for this story like mice in a trap. Excellently written, with a twisted, spiraling, unexpected end that will leave you speechless.” ~ TBM Horror Experts


Event schedule is as follows (times noted are EST):

1:00pm-2:00pm:

:00 -- Welcome live video
:10 – Introduction to ‘Golem’ (Book description and Cover Reveal)
:20 – Introducing Alena Francon (Feel free to ask Alena any question you may have)
:30 -- Never Have I Ever (A horror lit game)
:40 -- Would You Rather (Game based on Alena Francon)
:50 -- Questions for fans (This is where the author asks readers a question. Prizes awarded)

2:00pm-3:00pm:

:00 -- Live video (Inspirations behind ‘Golem’)
:10 -- Round robin, writing with members
:20 – Introducing Detective John Ashton (Feel free to ask John any question you may have)
:30 – What’s that line from? (A game based on popular horror movie quotes)
:40 -- Would You Rather (Game based on John Ashton)
:50 – Author question for fans (Prizes awarded)

3:00pm-4:00pm:

:00 -- Live Video (Making a villain, inspirations behind the diabolical Golem character)
:10 – Fun Facts about ‘Golem’
:20 – Introducing Annette Flemming (Feel free to ask Annette any question you may have)
:30 – Favorite Villains
:40 – Author question for fans (Prizes awarded)
:50 – Ask the Author

9:00pm-10:00pm:

:00-50 -- Live Video: Live reading from ‘Golem’ followed by the Horror Trivia Contest (6 questions for 6 prizes)

10:00pm-11:00pm

:00 – Get your Free Golem Ebook: Comment on the post with a ‘yes’ and I’ll touch base with everyone individually for their free ebook. Post will remain up throughout the weekend.
:10-50 -- Live Video: Upcoming horror novel: ‘Jigglyspot and the Zero Intellect’; Information about the book club and discussion schedule for Golem; Closing remarks.