Ainsley Shay's Blog

After the Curtain Falls ~ Chapter One

Chapter 1
Three minutes.     I roll my sleeves up to my elbows and take one last look in the small mirror hanging to my right. Beneath dark strands of hair, black-lined eyes flash with uncontained eagerness. Their engorged pupils mostly hide gold-flecked blue irises. They always look like this just before the curtain goes up.      Two minutes.      Just beyond the wall of fabric dividing me from my audience, fragments of conversations fuse together and flitter to my ears. To any other person the sounds and syllables of each broken sentence would create a chain of meaningless nonsense. But to me, they are strung together in such a perfect way they cause my nerves to whine with excitement. “Magician,” “illusionist,” “a fake,” “an act,” “how much longer?” Ah, what bliss to savor the anticipation; they are starving for me, and I drink in every drop of their expectations and accusations alike.      One minute.     I shake out my arms and roll my neck to loosen and warm my muscles, preparing for the surge of blood about to storm through my veins, and the brilliant energy that will race alongside them. In moments, raging heat will consume me, and with pleasure, I will lose myself in it, inviting it to ignite every cell in my body. The curtain cannot open soon enough.     The lights dim, and the hum of a long single note resonates within the walls of the red tent, suspending half spoken words in mid air. I bring the inside of my wrist to my lips and kiss the inked dragonfly.     It’s time.     The music ripens into a haunting rhythm drowning out the roar of the roller coaster and the screams that follow as it falls back to the ground. As the curtain opens one hundred pairs of eyes return my stare. Their expressions are the usual collection of amusement, suspicion, disbelief, and even a fair amount of hope as they search my face for the truth.      I reveal nothing.      The black satin cloth slips between my fingers as I grasp the corner of it. Expecting to possess each one of their morbid curiosities, I open my arms and pull away the smooth cloth. The spectators’ gazes fall to the three small tables between us. Murmurs and whispers escape their open mouths. I steal my attention away from the audience and focus on the dead things surrounding me.     Some of my guests fidget in their seats; others are motionless, but all appear impatient to see the phenomenon they’ve paid their five bucks to witness. In the second row, a teenage girl with red hair looks up from the tables to me. Her eyes are wide. She inhales sharply, puffing up her already too large chest. I glare at her, feeding on her apprehension as she reaches for the hand of the blonde girl sitting next to her. Redhead’s eyes dart from me to the stage. I tilt my head, focus in on her, intent on nurturing her anxiety, she is after all a witness to a freak show. She cowers, tucking herself deeper into her seat, and looks down at her lap.     The blonde looks at me and leans into the redhead and I hear her say, “Don’t be such a wuss. Besides, he’s hot.” And then she winks lasciviously‎ at me.These are the moments I feel like a rock star, and there’s no other place than on this stage I’d rather be. It’s that shot of adrenaline that triggers the unnatural energy inside of me. The feverish excitement rides along my veins as I pick up the butterfly by one of its delicate blue wings.      A fat woman in the front row eyes me with skepticism. Her dress has risen and settled on her thighs, presenting me with the mortifying view of thick calves stuffed into flesh colored socks reminiscent of horrid sausages straining to burst forth from their restrictive casings. To her left, a boy about eight or nine sits as still as a cactus in the desert. His eyes are nearly glazed over and his mouth hangs open as if I’ve already performed my trick. The woman holds one of his hands in both of hers on her lap. She kneads her fingers over his, the movements animating the purple and yellow flowers on her dress.     “Young man, would you like to assist me?” My tone is deep and insinuating.     His mouth closes, and he points to his chest. Wide-eyed he whispers, “Me?”     “Yes. You, in the red shirt.”     He looks down at his red t-shirt and then up to the fat woman. His head bounces up and down. A plea spreads over his freckled face, as if his dream to be a freak’s assistant has finally come true, and she’s the only one standing in his way.      Hesitantly, she releases his hand. He tears out of her grip and climbs onto the stage, not bothering to use the stairs, and hurries to my side.      “What is your name?” I inquire. He smells of rotten fruit and dirt, the pungent odors of a boy who hasn’t yet found the marvelous invention of deodorant.      “Riley,” he says. His lips are outlined with a caked-on white substance. His fingers twist around and through each other like a ball of knotted, writhing snakes.     “Please welcome Riley.” The audience claps for the pudgy boy.     “May I put this dead butterfly in your hand?”     “Yeah! Yeah!” His smile divides his face in two, and he opens his hand. White speckles dot his fingertips. No doubt, the same as the once powdery sugar that’s around his mouth.     I place the insect on his palm. “Do you believe the butterfly is dead?”      He studies the motionless insect and shakes his hand, as if the jarring might wake it from a deep sleep. After poking at its bulbous head, Riley nods in short bursts and says, “It’s dead.”      “Thank you,” I say.     I wait a few more beats and for effect only, circle my hand over the butterfly’s lifeless body. The boy’s nerves get the better of him and he shifts from one foot to the other. I place my free hand under his to keep it steady. “Riley, please stay still,” I whisper.     “Sorry.” He bites his lip nervously.     The music heightens and intensifies. Each blow to the invisible drum matches my pounding heart. The energy begins to writhe inside me. Everything under the tent fades as I focus on the unexplained vigorous force taking over my body. My eyes dance in rapid jerky movements behind my lids, and the fierce flood of heat courses through me. Scorched streams of energy furiously wake each cell in my now slightly vibrating body.     I open my eyes and touch the butterfly. A single drop of sweat rolls down the side of my face as the intensity of the energy leaves my body. Waves of dizziness immediately take its place. The creature mere moments ago, void of life, once again comes alive. It flexes its wings as if emerging from the cocoon for the first time, and then lifts each leg until all six have exercised the movement.Gasps echo throughout the tent. Riley’s eyes are huge as he stares at the butterfly moving on his palm. I raise the boy’s hand so the audience can see the creature is alive, and the movement sends the butterfly into flight. As if rehearsed, it flies over a spot light, magnifying it a thousand times against the backdrop of the tent. The audience “oohs” and “ahs” as they watch the butterfly flutter over them. Arms reach up, eager to touch it, but it flies to the tallest part of the tent and disappears into the darkness.     From the corner of my eye I see a streak of pink—CeCe, my little sister, dressed in a tutu. The curtain veils her from the audience. I imagine the smile on her face, and her brown ringlets bouncing with excitement. She is, by far, my number one fan. Her happiness is infectious and it pulls a smile from me.      Whistles from the audience resonate around me; they clap and yell for more. Their excitement stirs the simmering warmth inside my bones, and I’m impatient to continue.       I thank Riley and guide him to the stairs. He turns and looks up at me, his mouth once again gaped open. “You were the best assistant I’ve had the pleasure of working with. In fact, you were so good, you yourself might have a future as a Freak.” His face beams with undeniable happiness. The audience chuckles, all except the fat woman. She’s glaring at me with pure hatred as she grasps the boy’s hand and returns it to her lap. I flash her a wicked smile and wink.     When I glance up, Zane, my best friend, gives me the corona gesture and mouths, “You rock.” Half of him is tucked in the shadows behind the audience. The unhidden half flickers in the light. He lifts the corner of his mouth and the metal spikes and rings piercing his entire face glint from the light hanging to his left. I stifle the grin that threatens my lips, and lower my eyes to the corpse on the second table.     The dead frog feels like a flattened rubber ball in my hand. Wart-like bumps are scattered over its dark green body. The energy continues to weave itself through my body like a slinking reptile, begging to be released. And this time, without an assistant, I repeat the process. When I pull away my hand, lightheadedness creeps into the crevices of the relinquished energy. Fatigue, a recently found acquaintance, greets me early this evening. I spread my arms to the audience, more to steady myself than to imply they are witnessing greatness.      After the third resurrected corpse scurries off the stage, I thank the audience for attending and give a final bow as the black velvet curtain falls and pools in front of my feet. My head falls to my chest, and my shoulders slump surrendering to the exhaustion.     “Erik, you were fantastic,” my dad says as he slaps me on the shoulder.     I offer him a tired smile. “Thanks.”     “Hey, you okay?”     I should have tried to hide the weakness I feel, but that would have taken more energy than I had to give right now. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I plaster a smile on my face that I hope looks convincing.     His eyes gleam in the spotlights; they portray skepticism tempered with pride. He nods and forces a smile of his own. “Watching you night after night makes me want to start performing again.” A proud father that, up until four years ago, was a great illusionist in his own right. Then one night he put his thirteen-year-old son on the stage and laid a dead dragonfly at my feet, and I did what only comes natural to me. The theatrics of it were never planned or practiced, and without any uncertainty, word of my performance spread and gathered many and they wanted more.     I pull back the curtain and see the last of the crowd have left.      “Your mom and CeCe should be back soon. I bet they’ll sell out tonight.” At the end of my performances, CeCe and my mom sell autographed pictures of me at the exit. Most of the audience buys them; they’re still on the high from the show and want whatever memorabilia they can get.“You look tired. Why don’t you head in and we’ll be over after we finish here?” He lifts the bottom of the tent and nudges the frog through the small hole. It hops away.     As I leave through the back of the tent, I sense someone watching me. About twenty feet away, a man leans against the supporting rope of a tent. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s staring in my direction.     “Hey, Mister.”      With my attention on the man, I didn’t notice the little girl standing next to me. Blonde pigtails frame her doll-like face. A pink purse hangs on her shoulder, and she’s holding a bag of cotton candy.            “Yes?”     “I just saw you bring those dead things back to life.” Her voice is shaky like she’s been crying.       The light is sparse in the alley behind the tents, but there’s just enough of a glow to catch the streaks of wetness forging trails from her eyes.     I glance up and the man hasn’t moved. His expression is barely readable, but his guarded stance suggests I proceed with caution. Unnerved, I rub the back of my neck.     “Was it real?” the little girl asks.     A request. One I’ve been asked a thousand times before. Now all of this makes sense. She wants me to bring Fluffy or Rover back from the dead. People come to the carnival to be entertained. The only thing that needs to be real, and I want to be real, is the illusion I bring back the dead. Nothing else. But, out of all the people that come to my show, the children are the most difficult to fool. They believe what their eyes see. Adults are easy to deceive; they’re immune to magic, enchantment, and fairy-tales alike. Sad really, but it’s a belief I thrive upon. I’d rather be in a freak show than a science lab.     Avoiding her question, I ask, “What’s your name?”     “Sophie.”     “It’s nice to meet you, Sophie.” I put my hand out for her to shake, but she ignores the gesture and pushes her small purse farther up onto her shoulder.     “It looked pretty real to me.”     “I’m glad. It sounds like you enjoyed the show.”     As if I’d never spoken, she asks, “Can you bring back my mama?”  Her mother. Why couldn’t she want me to resurrect her dead goldfish or hamster? Not that I would have, but that request would have been a hell of a lot easier to dismiss. I close my eyes and try to shut out the sight of this motherless child. The lights from the Ferris wheel blaze behind my lids. Nubby balls of fabric rub against my fingertips as I dig my hands into the pockets of my jeans. I’ve never wanted to have the talent of Houdini, the man I was named after, but I would give anything to be able to escape this moment.     When I open my eyes, Sophie is looking at me, waiting for an answer. She reminds me of CeCe, not in looks, but age, and most of all, her bravery. My fatigue multiplies as I watch this little girl suffer for want of her dead mother. Her pain, her plea, her desperate hope is etched on her face and I have to look away.      The mass of air I suck in tastes sour. I kneel down so we are eye level, giving her the respect she deserves. “Sophie, I wish I could, but that’s not something I can do.” As the words leave me, I’ve never felt so helpless.       She says nothing else as the hope slides down her cheeks. Her arms slack at her sides and her pigtails flop forward with the fall of her head.      “I’m sorry.” The need to comfort her is overwhelming. But, I stand and do nothing except fight the urge to fold in on myself.       Without another word, she turns away from me and walks toward the man propped against the rope. Her purse falls off her shoulder, and the bag of cotton candy drags on the ground. He gives me a slight wave. I return a nod that I hope conveys the regret and remorse I feel. He holds out his hand, the little girl puts her small one into it and they walk into the blinking lights of the carnival. I collapse to my knees with unbearable exhaustion and the bitter taste of regret in my mouth.

    Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of After the Curtain Falls. If you'd like to continue Erik's story, please visit Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes or Smashwords!

~A

Sky on Fire!

Morning sky in S. Florida 1/26/15How infinite and beautiful our world is! 
Enjoy your day with all of its infinite possibilities!~A

Delicate Thorns is now on Audible!

 Delicate Thorns Is now available on Audible!

 I have always loved listening to audio books. It's not only the story that makes a great audio book, but also, the narrator. Of the hundreds I've listened to, Angie Hickman does not disappoint! She has the perfect voice for the main character, Jasmine, and all the other characters.


Click here to listen to a sample of our book that Angie Hickman, the amazing narrator, who brought our book to life.



  
Delicate Thorns is a  NA Paranormal Novella
Authors: Miranda Hardy and Ainsley Shay
Publication Date: September 27, 2014
Waking up on a deserted island with no memory of who you are is scary, but when your throat burns for the thirst of blood, it's terrifying.

For months Jasmine has managed to feed her new hunger in solitude while teetering on the brink of insanity. As her delirium increases to a new level, an unthinkable opportunity offers an escape into a world of cruelty, vengeance, love and lust. Now the need to remember her past becomes vital if Jasmine plans to survive.

Delicate thorns is a 26,000 word New Adult novella that brings an interesting twist to the vampire paranormal genre.
Paperback available through Amazon, and Amazon UK. Ebook available through Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Apple iTunes, Apple iTunes UK, Kobo, and Smashwords. Audio available through Audible.Hope you all enjoy listening to it as much as I did!What's your favorite way to get inside a book: reading or listening?~A

Thirst: An Edgy Vampire Bundle - ONLY $0.99

 Thirst: An EIGHT Author Vampire Bundle of Edgy Vampires that THIRST for the one. Deliciously inhuman, paranormal sexiness!
ONLY ONE MONTH LEFT TO ORDER! GRAB IT BEFORE IT'S GONE! JUST $0.99 AMAZON: http://amzn.to/1sjtHgxBARNES & NOBLE: http://bit.ly/XYWtFc
Are you THIRSTING for the unusual? Try thousand-year-old vampires, Latin and French vamps, vampire Earls, sexy Native American vampires and even berserker vampires! This bundle will slake your THIRST for otherworldly, hot and sexy, unique vampire stories.
EIGHT creative and original stories that prove, one little seductive bite doesn't hurt.------Vampire Berserker by Carl East: A vampire that needs to feed on other vampires in order to survive.
The Vampire and the Rose by Yvonne Anthony: Rose's mother has often warned her to stay away from dark places--especially at night, but curious Rose will ignore the warnings, jumping headlong into danger with startling consequences.
Dark Velvet by Lisa Carlisle: Savannah is thrilled for her residency at an art colony where she meets the sculptor Antoine. She discovers his dark secret, putting her life in jeopardy.
Vampire Lords of Blacknall by Shirl Anders: Only a creature of the night can save her. Lady Beth never stays home in the evenings. She fears her evil stepbrother. Then a monster stalks her in the dark and she cannot tell beast from savior.
The Vixen Torn by J.E. & M. Keep: Anjasa has been through the worst parts of hell and come back from it wounded but stronger. A trained assassin and courtesan, she's seen the worst in others... and herself.
When Comes the Night by Anita Dobs: Trying to leave a troubled past far behind, Stacy escapes to England, but gets more than she bargained for when she meets Rafe Hawkins, the mysterious C.E.O at the renowned Sirius Advertising Agency.
Ash: Before Dawn by Skye Eagleday: Ash drank deeply of the blood of his enemies at Custer's Last Stand. Now the beautiful Native American Vampire hunts in the gay bars of Seattle, where he will face an ancient Vampire far more deadly than the troops at Little Big Horn. Will he and his new human lover be able to use his powers of seduction and warrior skills to survive until dawn?
Love Blind by Claudia D. Christian: 1978. Rio de Janeiro. Josephine made a desperate bargain with a vampire named Julio Alberto. Her life for another. Kept in a gilded cage, will she ever allow herself to truly love her charming captor? *NO CLIFFHANGERS*

Indie Bookfest 2014 in Orlando

GOT INDIE?




This weekend, August 8th and 9th, I will be attending the Indie Bookfest at the Buena Vista Palace in Orlando, Florida! I'm super excited to be part of such an incredible event. Friday will be a day filled with panels of some super authors that we all love. On Saturday, there will be a book signing that is open to the public from 1-4. Miranda Hardy and I will have a signing table, so if you are planning to attend, please stop by and say "Hi!"
Are any of you going to this incredible event?
~A

Cover Reveal: Death Knocks

Miranda Hardy and Jay Noel have joined forces. Together, they have created a Young Adult paranormal thriller about the strange global phenomenon known as the Black-Eyed Kids. 
Take a creepy and exciting ride in a world where myth meets reality. 


Death Knocks Blurb :Who knew a knock at the door could rupture your entire world? They don’t demand money or possessions…they want much more than that, they want your life. Maverick is preparing for senior year: he’s no longer stuck in the “friend-zone” with the girl of his dreams, he’s looking forward to choosing the right college and being on his own, and he plans to have a blast along the way. But a knock on the door changes all of that forever. Maverick begins a mind-altering, life-changing journey to discover the truth—a truth that certain individuals will do anything to keep hidden.

Death Knocks is scheduled for publication on September 26, 2014 by Quixotic Publishing.

Check out the book trailer HERE!




Quixotic Publishing
Miranda Hardy
Jay Noel

Cover Reveal: Shadow Warrior by Jay Noel

Here's the cover for Shadow Warrior, the second book in Jay Noel's AMAZING steampunk series, The Mechanica Wars...





Shadow Warrior
The agony of a failed quest haunts Kanze Zenjiro, but the betrayal by those he once trusted has turned his world upside down. With a heart full of hatred and defeat, Zen is desperate to return home and demand the truth from his father.

Meanwhile, the Iberian Empire sends their soaring airships and steam-powered giants into the Orient. They threaten to upset the balance of power, hoping to exploit the faraway land in their greed for the resources needed to power their machines. Zen and his companions must fight to keep the world from plunging into total destruction.

And at the center of it all is a nine year old boy with the power of a god.


Shadow Warrior's release date is scheduled for August 4, 2014.





Jay Noel Blog: http://jaynoel.comOfficial Author Website: http://jaynoelbooks.com

Only one day left to enter the Indie Extravaganza GIVEAWAY

Susan Kaye Quinn is hosting this AMAZING
Indie Extravaganza: New Book Releases You Should Check it Out
PLUS Gift Card Giveaway!

There are so many GREAT titles below - you'll have no problem feeding your E-reader!

All of these books are New Releases in the last few months. Skip to the genre you love, sample a new indie author... and enter the giveaway at the bottom! (Also check out the FREE books associated with these New Releases at the bottom.) And THANK YOU for supporting indie authors! (click on covers to learn more) p.s. is it me, or are these indie covers amazing?Young Adult Science Fiction    
Science Fiction/Dystopian             Young Adult Fantasy             Fantasy   Young Adult Contemporary Romance     Contemporary/Historical Romance         Young Adult Suspense Middle Grade   Steampunk/Alternate History  Thriller/Suspense     FREE BooksConnected with New Releases Above         Giveaway includes Gift Cards, Original Art, paperbacks, ebooks, and a mug!
ENTER HERE

Everyone loves Cheetos...and other stuff

pic taken by me
Hello to all ~
I vowed to be a better blogger and socializer and I have failed miserably. There are so many great readers and writers out there, and here I stay, locked away in my own little world. It's truly my loss. Although, I have been making it over to Facebook this past week, and finding a lot of great news and info!
Here are some things I've been up to and also looking forward to...
Hugh Howey!Yes, the great man lives mere minutes from me and I am very much looking forward to meeting him at the Jupiter Library on April 22nd. My copy of Wool is patiently waiting on my nightstand for his autograph.
Indie BookFest 2014Something else I'm looking forward to is the Indie Bookfest. It's going to be held at the BuenaVista Palace in Orlando, FL August 8th & 9th. There will be a ton of authors there and book signings. What I'm REALLY, I mean REALLY excited about is I get to meet Najla Qamber, the amazing cover designer. She's coming all the way from Manama, Bahrain! It's going to be a great time so get your ticket now! Check out Indie BookFest on Facebook. Hope to see you there.
My New LoveI have recently fallen in love! A few years ago I purchased a writing program, Scrivener, and I had a heck of a time getting use to it. I watched a ton of videos and even took notes, but still couldn't grasp it. But a few weeks ago, I watched a video made by the developer himself and in less than 10 minutes I was COMPLETELY INFATUATED! The infatuation immediately turned into love. The program is perfect for the way that I write and now I'm so organized with all of my chapters, notes, scenes, even my pictures I use for reference (I'm very visual) - it's all in one place! Anyway, if you're a writer and haven't checked out Scrivener yet, I suggest taking the time to do so. I bet you'll fall in love too!
And lastly...
New Series Coming Soon!I've been diligently working on an episodic storyline that I have been very excited about for a long time. I really can't wait to share it with you guys. I'm going to start releasing them in July - so be on the lookout for teasers and cover reveals!
That's all for now!
I hope everyone is doing well!
~A

After the Curtain Falls is ONLY $0.99

Get your ebook now for ONLY $0.99!
From now through February 28 After the Curtain Falls will be on sale and available from:
Amazon,   Barnes and Noble,   Smashwords,   iTunes,  
Also, this is the last week to enter to win a print copy of After the Curtain Falls from Goodreads!

.goodreadsGiveawayWidget { color: #555; font-family: georgia, serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; background: white; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget img { padding: 0 !important; margin: 0 !important; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget a { padding: 0 !important; margin: 0; color: #660; text-decoration: none; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget a:visted { color: #660; text-decoration: none; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget a:hover { color: #660; text-decoration: underline !important; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget p { margin: 0 0 .5em !important; padding: 0; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink { display: block; width: 150px; margin: 10px auto 0 !important; padding: 0px 5px !important; text-align: center; line-height: 1.8em; color: #222; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; border: 1px solid #6A6454; border-radius: 5px; font-family:arial,verdana,helvetica,sans-serif; background-image:url(https://www.goodreads.com/images/layo... background-repeat: repeat-x; background-color:#BBB596; outline: 0; white-space: nowrap; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink:hover { background-image:url(https://www.goodreads.com/images/layo... color: black; text-decoration: none; cursor: pointer; }
Goodreads Book Giveaway After the Curtain Falls by Ainsley Shay Giveaway ends February 28, 2014.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.


Enter to win

Have a great day!
~A