Krista Clark Grabowski's Blog, page 4
October 7, 2015
October 6, 2015
Evan Guilford-Blake Book Signing
Evan Guilford-Blake will be signing books at Barnes and Noble this Saturday at the Valparaiso Barnes & Noble as part of the Indiana Writers' Consortium! His short story "The Invasion" appears in In the Trenches and Verto Publishing will be publishing Love and Loss and Love, a collection of his short stories, in early 2016.
Come out and support the authors at the bookfair! If you present the voucher before purchase, a percentage of the money will go towards IWC for the 2016 Steel Pen Conference. #steelpen
Posted by Indiana Writers' Consortium on Tuesday, October 6, 2015
October 2, 2015
A New Contributor!
P. Emerson Williams has officially joined the list of contributors to both "Gothic Tales of Terror" and Verto's Halloween celebration!
October 1, 2015
Halloween Serial - The Sea Spirit by Lori R. Lopez
Welcome to the first day of Verto Publishing's month-long Halloween celebration. Each day of the month we will feature a new piece of flash fiction, a poem, a piece of artwork, a new installment of a serial story, or a video. We begin the month with the first installment of "The Sea Spirit" by Lori R. Lopez.
"The Sea Spirit" by Lori R. Lopez - Part 1
Carriage tyres churned dust on a coastal lane near the rim of a precipice. Hooves thundered. Lungs and nostrils fumed like a bellows as the draught-horse hauled its load with muscular strides. Metal and wood hoops trundled dangerously, bumping uneven land that flirted with a perilous descent. The conveyance jounced, hurtling out of control, plunging toward imminent disaster.
Or so it seemed. “We’re going too fast!” Clutching a seat, a brunette damsel eyed the brink in trepidation, her dread a creeping honeysuckle vine, each hoofbeat and heartbeat intertwined.
Respiration had stalled. Averting her eyes, she concentrated on breathing . . .
“Where are you taking me?”
“Never you mind,” grated the driver. His tone rang false, the vocal chords strained.
Her posture was rigid. “You know how nervous I am of heights. Please stop.”
“I can’t. We’re almost there.”
“I must demand it. We could fall from this precarious road.”
“You’ve forced my hand. It was a surprise. I thought we could have a picnic. The two of us.” Urging the horse, the driver cast her a grin.
“On a day like this?” Her orbs bulged. She didn’t mind sneaking away, or the fact that ranks of leaden clouds marched across the sky. “I am surprised. It just feels a bit mad. Chasing along cliffs. Plotting picnics on the verges of tempests. What’s got into you?”
“Nothing, my dear.”
Corinne eyed her betrothed askance. He was behaving peculiar, less moody. If she didn’t know him better, she would perceive an air of optimism upon his person. She preferred the roguish dour expression she had grown accustomed to in his presence. It was mysterious, difficult to interpret, and she fancied that type of character. This unfamiliar side — being cheerful, practically lighthearted — conflicted with her typically murky nature. She decided to tease him about the change, although she might be a little serious.
“I’m afraid the engagement is off.” She produced a pout, one gloved mitt securing the brim of her stylish new hat. A fierce wind had picked up, and she fretted the hatpins wouldn’t hold.
“No, I beg of you.” His upset was genuine. Gripping reins, hanging on to his tweed cap, Monty swerved a panicked face to regard her. “Why ever for?” The alarm was palpable.
“You’re smiling too much.” It was a challenge to keep straight her own lips that wore a rosy tincture. The lady’s ivory complexion had been powdered by a hint of rouge. “You’re a regular gigglemug,” she goaded.
Perplexity gave way to comprehension. Heaving a sigh of relief, the man halted his two-wheeled buggy, yet the tangible sense of drama lingered, manifested by an abrupt pastiness, a sheen of perspiration in contrast to the day’s cool temperament. “Do not scare me like that,” he chided. “My heart is weak.” He adjusted the starched collar of a white shirt, then smoothed a pleated silk cravat the colour of his suit. The hand loitered on his chest.
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” Dressed in black, she touched a sleeve of his grey frock-coat. “Ah, there it is. Pathetic and frail as an elderly spinster’s, the poor thing.”
He blushed. “I meant that it bears a weakness for you. I am merely stating my affection.”
“Well, quit it at once. It’s annoying. I may be sickened by so much flattery and mush.” Corinne tapped his shoulder using a folded parasol, humphing in mock disapproval.
Her hat was wrested aloft to sail out from a steep cliff lined by a low stone wall — the victim of a diabolic zephyr.
“Oh! I am terribly sorry.” His apology went unheard.
“What a splendid view.” Neck craning, she surveyed the ocean. “If you like that sort of thing.” Muttering, the capricious female swung to the front, her nose crinkled. “Myself, I cherish a nice cemetery. With fog.”
He pretended to shudder. “You read too many gruesome tales. Ghosts and corpses.”“You read too much poetry.”
“It is only that your beauty intoxicates me.” Her fiancé kissed the back of a satin-sheathed hand.
“Montgomery Baxter Rainey! You’re making me ill.” She relished the idea of becoming Missus Rainey, since that was her favourite weather. Besides, she loathed her maiden name. Kids chanted rhymes when she was younger, involving bandy-legs or bandicoots. They didn’t like her because she played with spiders and told them she had a pet bat. Even her family deemed her odd. From Corinne’s perspective, everyone else was weird. Montgomery was the first to ignore her eccentricities, accept her without trying to remould her into a proper lady. He professed to admire her striking uniqueness. Do not harry him lest he release you like a hot coal! Her mother’s advice. What if he did? She raised a defiant chin; amethyst earrings jiggled as her cranium spurned Mum’s dire warning. In that event she would go to the city, perhaps London or New York, become a scandalous showgirl in clubs, or perform at theatres and playhouses. It was what she had been planning to do, a secret ambition. But then he proposed and said he couldn’t bear it if she left . . .
“Miss Dandy?” His response was delayed, hollow and preoccupied.
What could be troubling him, or be of such interest in the midst of nowhere? Calming the horse? Despite a pair of blinders, the skittish animal was shying from the edge. She couldn’t blame it. They were parked in a hazardous position.
“I don’t care for this spot. We should turn back. For aught I know, you are a heinous kidnapper,” she jested, “whisking me off with foul intent.”
His head bowed, cap jauntily slanted, eyes locked in hers. “If so, ’tis due to an avid fondness that overwhelms me with desire.”
There was the passion, the rugged romantic tenour she craved — like the dashing heroic rascals of the books she read and re-read. It wasn’t poetry Corinne despised; it was tame deportment, stiff gentlemanly conduct. How boring the world would be without Mister Darcys and Heathcliffs! She longed to be swept away and here she was, having an adventure. Why must she nag him, contrary to her emotions? Sometimes, her actions exceeded the limits of reason, flummoxing any who might be in the vicinity; sometimes, she was as baffled as anybody and didn’t understand herself at all.
Applying a hand-brake, Montgomery stepped out and tramped to inspect the berm, risking beyond the guard barrier. “I do not see your hat. It appears to be gone,” he reported, bending at the waist.
“That old thing,” she dismissed, a shoulder nonchalantly shrugged. Losing the hat wasn’t his fault. Her tongue had been critical enough, wagging like a sharp switch. He was clearly attempting to please her. What more could she ask?
A tumble-down dwelling captured her attention — situated on a lonely crag, a promontory that jutted from the mainland, boasting a few trees and a cottage above the sea on a rocky bluff. How enchanted! The ideal setting for a novel. “Let us see who lives in that charming abode!” she cried, extending her arm, pointing a forefinger.
Lori R. Lopez is the author of ODDS AND ENDS: A DARK COLLECTION, CHOCOLATE-COVERED EYES, AN ILL WIND BLOWS, THE MACABRE MIND OF LORI R. LOPEZ, POETIC REFLECTIONS: THE QUEEN OF HATS, DANCE OF THE CHUPACABRAS, OUT-OF-MIND EXPERIENCES, THE FAIRY FLY, MONSTROSITIES, JUGULAR and more. A resident of Southern California, she is an author, poet, artist, columnist, actress, songwriter, musician and activist for conservation, children and animal rights. Stories and verse have appeared on Hellnotes and Halloween Forevermore, in THE HORROR ZINE MAGAZINE, THE SIRENS CALL E-Zine and anthologies such as TERROR TRAIN, JOURNALS OF HORROR: FOUND FICTION, DEAD HARVEST, CURSED CURIOSITIES, CELLAR DOOR III: ANIMALS (Editor's Choice Award winner), BONES II, UNDEAD LEGACY, GHOSTS: REVENGE, WE ARE DUST AND SHADOW, INDIANA HORROR REVIEW 2014, MIRAGES: TALES FROM AUTHORS OF THE MACABRE, MASTERS OF HORROR: DAMNED IF YOU DON'T, DARLINGS OF DECAY, I BELIEVE IN WEREWOLVES, THIRSTY ARE THE DAMNED, and SCARE PACKAGE: 14 TALES OF TERROR. Fifteen of Lori's poems were published for an anthology titled IN DARKNESS WE PLAY.
September 27, 2015
September 26, 2015
September 24, 2015
Halloween Celebration
In addition to the publication of Gothic Tales of Terror in October, Verto Publishing will celebrate Halloween throughout the month. Details tomorrow!
