Pocketwatch

I bought a cheap watch from a crazy man, who stood in front of the five and dime with a box full of junk. Trinkets maybe, from his better days.

I tried to walk by and pretend I didn’t notice him, but something made me look up. Our eyes met, a shiver coursed down my spine. His eyes held the cold weight of some kind of dark knowledge. I didn’t want to know what he knew, yet I couldn’t turn away. I felt fate’s hand push me toward him.

“Is there something you like, miss?” His voice was older than his grizzled face. The old man tipped the box so I could see the contents closer.

I tried to look away, my eyes turned themselves to the box. I shook my head gently. “No, thank you. I don’t have time, I’m late.”

He reached out and grabbed my hand. “I have just the thing for seeing time.” He pulled a pocket watch from the box. Its age showed on the engraved metal. Rubbed smooth where it had been held and touched most often.

“That’s a lovely watch but….” The moment he placed it into my hand I felt a tingle of energy flow though my hand and up my arm. Suddenly the air around her felt charged, like before lightning strikes.

When I tried to pull my hand from his my fingers brushed the release. The case opened and my eyes fell to the face of the watch. The hands ticked on minutes and hours as the air thickened around me. It seemed like an ordinary thing, just a cheap watch on the outside but there was something else.

I could feel it becoming part of me. I tried to let go of it but my fingers curled tighter around the thing instead. I pulled five dollars from my pocket and placed it in his old withered hand. When I looked into his eyes this time, I saw relief.

I would soon find out what curse he had passed on to me.

Woman in the Woods

It was nearly dusk and he was completely turned around on the forest trails. He hoped he was going in the direction of the cabin. After a few more minutes walk he could hear the  soft swoosh of water rushing over rocks.

His lungs took a calming breath and let it go slowly. There wasn't a creek anywhere near the cabin. He was lost. The canteen was almost empty, he should fill it while he had the  chance.

With the sky turning a pinkish gold overhead he made his way off the trail toward the soft splashing sounds. As he moved closer a soft voice humming blended into the sounds of the creek. Maybe another hiker and he wasn't as lost as he thought.

He stepped through the brush toward the song to the rocky edge of the creek. His hand gripped a hanging tree limb to keep his footing on the moss slickened stones as he picked his way along the edge. He kneeled on a flat rock and watched bubbles float upward as he held the canteen below the water line.

The bubbles calmed as the last of the air was replaced with refreshing cool liquid. He capped the canteen and cupped his hands to scoop up a drink and bathe his face and neck. As his hands dipped under a face appeared in the water not his own.

With an unmanly yip he jumped back and looked behind him. No one was there. He sighed and shook his head. "I've been out in the sun too long today."

As he stood the humming became louder, clearer. He turned and saw a young redheaded woman, she sat on the rocks at the creek edge with a washboard.

He blinked, was she there before? Maybe he was just too tired from the long walk to notice. He watched her pick up a large bar of soap and rub it up and down the board as she continued her song, seemingly oblivious to his presence.

She had to live near by. "Excuse me.... Miss?"

She picked up a shirt from her basket and started to scrub up and down over the washboard. He stepped forward and lost traction on the damp stones. He hit the ground  hard enough to see stars. His eyes watered with the ache in his head as he sat up.

The woman had stopped her song and now looked at him as she turned the shirt and continued to scrub. She turned back to her work as she spoke. "Does it hurt?"

He rubbed the back of his head. "Not really, I think I just showed how much of a city boy  I am." His lips curled in a soft grin. "I'm completely turned around on these trails. Do you live near the campground?"

She glanced up for a moment then rinsed the shirt in the creek and examined it carefully. In the dying light he could see the white shirt was still stained. She sighed and began to  scrub it up and down the board again. "I live in the wood."

He raised a brow at the short answer. Maybe she was one of those Rainbow People he was always being told to be cautious of. They traveled to different areas sometimes camping out in the forest like a wild hippy commune. Maybe she her family was a bunch of cannibal axe murderers on the run or weird apocalypse get back to nature groupies.

If he was lucky she had a phone and he could call for help before she went all Blair Witch on him. "It must be nice to live out here in the quiet. Could I use your land line to call someone to pick me up? My cell is useless out here and I am totally lost on these  trails."

She continued to push and pull the cloth over the board. "There is no phone."

His spine tingled as he moved closer to her, more carefully over the rocks this time. He  made a silent promise to pay more attention to signs and maps next time if hiked. "There's no phone? Could you give me a ride back to camp? I'll be glad to pay you for the gas and trouble. I'm sure you get a lot of lost hikers up here."

She held up the shirt, in the dying light, the dark stain glistened. He thought it looked larger than it had before. The woman seemed satisfied as if it should be worse not better."You're not lost, Thomas." She began to sing a little louder this time as she worked the cloth once more.

He swallowed, how did she know his name. He rubbed his arms as gooseflesh covered them and chill filled him to the bone. "I really need to get out of the woods, my friends are going to wonder where I am. Is there someone that can give me a ride to camp or town?"

The woman's lips curled ever so slightly. "Soon, he will come for you, Thomas."

She stood her hair flowing around her as she turned and pointed. "Don't worry so, you're not lost."

Thomas felt a knot of fear in his throat as he gazed down the line of her finger. His knees felt weak as he walked back to where he had slipped. He looked down at his own face, eyes open, blankly staring at the rising moon. Blood still glistening covered the rock beneath his head. "No... this... isn't real."

She put a dainty blood speckled hand on his shoulder. "Some fairy tales are very real, Thomas."

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his pulse beating in his ears. "Who is coming for me?"

She turned and picked up her basket with its bounty of stained clothing from those she had called for today. Silently she stepped back into the wood disappearing from sight.

He looked up and down the rocky bank as hoof beats began to fill the empty night air. Thomas stood frozen at the sight of the black coach drawn by a demon horse with red eyes. As the coach drew near he could hear the woman singing again. Only now the soft  sweet song had turned into a wail.

PARTICIPATES:

1. C. Lee McKenzie Beautiful
2. Erica Damon Penance'
3. J. Q. Rose Sorry
4. Elise VanCise Lady In The Woods
5. Barbara Lund Spooky Space
6. Angela Wooldridge Quiet Neighbours
7. Katharina Gerlach Australian Dream
8. Karen Lynn The Waves at Midnight
9. Sherri Conway Ants
10. Elizabeth McCleary Over James Henry Wilcox Dead Body
11. Canis Lupus The Picture
12. Peg Fisher All In the Fall, a Fractured Fairytale
13. Bill Bush Trapped
14. Benjamin Thomas Autumn Cascade
15. Crystal Collier Emily’s Ghost
16. Viola Fury 911

Fall into Romance with paranormal thriller Half

Welcome to the next stop on the Fall into Romance Blog Hop! Sponsored by Romance Blog Hops Thanks for stopping by, I hope you enjoy a taste of romance from my paranormal thriller, Half. Would you like to win an ebook copy? Just leave a comment and one lucky winner will be chosen and announced on the 23rd of September. Don't forget to enter the Fall into Romance Rafflecopter for a chance to win a $75 Amazon gift card. Now pour a cuppa and relax as you get aquatinted with Valeska and Alex of Half.

About Half

Guarding CEO Alex Blazen during a charity gala was an easy job for Valeska Gorstef...until all hell breaks loose... Literally. Forced to face her own darkness, Valeska may lose her only chance to live a human life. Two sides of her soul will be at war. Which half will win?

Purchase links:

EXCERPT

Valeska stood within the darkness of the room and felt it breathe. The dark was a living creature part of

what she was. Her darkness, her vampire, and she hated it. A bit of dust and the stain was all that was left of her father. Once she had thought killing him would free her to live a normal life, but that was just a pretty lie.

After all this time, she still had to exist in the twilight between two worlds. Trapped. She was lost in the past when she heard footsteps and smelled Alex’s cologne before he reached the room. Good. He’ll see the darkness and run. It would be that easy to stop this before I want any more than I can have.

Alex didn’t run. Instead, he walked over, embracing her and kissing her blood covered mouth. All he cared about was showing her it didn’t matter. That he loved her human or not. Plying her lips with his tongue, he gently pushed into her mouth and met sharp fangs.

She tasted fresh blood and pushed him away roughly. “Alex stop! I haven’t fed enough.”

He gazed at her and the concern she saw there was more than she could bear. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t take an unwilling victim, not even a four legged one.”

He looked beneath the splatters of blood to the pain her eyes held. What horrors she must have endured to survive over six hundred years of life.

She wanted to push him farther away. “Don’t you see me? This is Valeska Gorstef. Alex, I can’t change what I am. I can smell the sweet copper scent of blood in your mouth. I can hear your heart pumping more through your veins and I want it. I want to taste you in ways that have nothing to do with passion.”

The video flashed in his mind. “I see the beautiful woman who walked into my office three days ago. I see the dark desire in your eyes. Blood isn’t all you want.”

She shook her head. “Alex, you don’t know what you’re asking.” Valeska felt her control starting to slip.

“No, I don’t.” Alex unbuttoned her shirt, peeled the blood soaked fabric from her shoulders. He pulled off his own shirt and tossed it in the pile. She was dizzy from bloodlust and need. Need to give in, need to love him.

She stood stiff as he embraced her and kissing, caressing first one lip then the other. He was more careful exploring the warmth of her mouth. He licked her fangs tasting the sweet copper in her mouth.

Weakening with the scent of his body so close, she kissed him back him feeling his warm clean skin. They fell to the floor, she rolled over him. “We can’t do this. I have to feed.”

He grabbed her face as he kissed her again. “Then feed.”

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Fall into romance and visit these other fantastic blogs on the hop for more chances to win great books and prizes!

Hunted author Ruby Fielding is in the ludis for a chat

Author Ruby Fielding has dropped into the ladies for a chat about her latest book, Hunted to be released on January 16th. So pour a cuppa and get comfortable as she tells us a bit about Hunted and Ruby.

Tell us 3 little known facts about Ruby Fielding.

My favorite season is winter, although this one has been a bit extreme even for me! I’m currently living in a cabin in the heart of a New England forest – up in the White Mountains in New Hampshire and baby it’s cold out there!

I’ve travelled a lot, and lived in some fabulous places, but I never really ventured far beyond the UK until my mid-twenties, when I suddenly realized life was passing me by.

The closest thing I have to a day job is ghost-writing books for minor celebrities - all covered by non-disclosure agreements before you ask! I’m pretty scrupulous about those NDAs, so most of my family and friends probably just assume I write that Fifty Shades stuff all the time.

We’re here to celebrate the upcoming release of your next novel Hunted. Can you tell us what this segment of the Shifter’s World Series is about?

Hunted started off as a short story (published as Lone Wolf). The setting and the characters took a powerful hold on my imagination and pretty soon I’d written three more stories in the series. Rather than just collect the four stories together, I rewrote them into a single narrative, which became Hunted. It was important for me to do this extra work, as it gave me the opportunity to tighten the writing and expand on some parts, and to remove the inevitable repetition you need in separate stories as each reintroduces the world and characters.

Here’s the cover description:

Should she struggle to survive alone or give in to desire and risk the - perhaps deadly - company of others?

In a world where plague has swept civilization away like leaves in a storm, where viruses that cause people to shift and change have altered what it is, for most, to be human, a few survivors hold out in a desperate attempt to save the human race. Selene lives alone in the forest, protecting herself from human and shifter alike until one day a stranger turns up: a young man called Skinner, out on a quest to hunt down and destroy any shifter he can find. Torn between desire and fear, Selene must confront her true nature and make some impossible choices if she is to survive this harsh, post-apocalyptic future.

Hunted: a Shifters' World novella - a shapeshifter erotic romance of survival and desire in a deadly future from the co-author of Seduced by Moonlight and The Touch.

Why shifters? What draws you to write about them?

I love that extra frisson of danger and risk: if a story doesn’t have that, then it’s just a romance. This is fine –

Shifter's World Book 1

I’m a sucker for a good romance – but I want my paranormal romances to get under the skin. There should be thrills, risks: genuine tension that heightens the romance, and makes any happy ever after hard-earned.

It’s an animal thing, too. It’s about those raw, intense passions and needs. You don’t get much more alpha-male than a shifter hero, a man who can just sweep you off your feet and possess you. As a writer it lets me explore intense attraction and giving yourself up to desire. It’s fascinating, and damn me, but it’s hot.

Did you always want to be an author or what did you want to be when you grew up?

I’ve always written, and I think I’ve always wanted to be a writer of some kind. At school I wrote stories that featured my friends and made fun of the teachers – it was how I tried to be cool. Someone really should have told me there were easier ways to be cool.

At university I worked on my college newspaper, and I went into journalism and advertising copywriting. I still do bits and pieces of all kinds of writing, but on my own terms: I have the luxury of variety and being able to pick and choose and somehow being able to get by.

When writing Hunted did you have a favorite part you would like to share?

The cage was not high enough for her to stand, so she sat in the middle, her knees drawn up to her chin, as if huddling into a fetal ball might somehow protect her.

At first there was no sign of them, but eventually they came. As the shadows grew longer and the sun fell below the tops of the trees, they came.

First, a man. Naked, his body scrawny and white, almost luminously so in the growing twilight. Dark hair matted his chest, and the silvered hair on his head was long and his beard thick and unkempt.

He came to stand by the bars of her cage, making no attempt to cover himself so that inevitably her eyes were drawn to that thick knot of hair at his crotch and the semi-hard shaft of his manhood.

“Please...” she said softly, eyeing the cage’s bars warily. “Please don’t...”

She started to rock back and forth and all the time the man just stood there, studying her.

So close, his scent was almost overpowering, an intense, sweaty musk. An animal scent, one that reached deep inside her and started to wake something primal.

“No, please don’t.” She shut her eyes tight, fighting the thing, the beast within.

After a long silence, she hoped that he had retreated. When she opened her eyes she saw a beast, fully in wolf-form, charging towards her, and then throwing itself at the cage. The impact was like an explosion. The bars clanged and groaned, and for a moment she thought the cage was going to topple over or collapse under the onslaught, and then the beast fell back with a yowl of frustration.

  

What did you find most difficult when writing this story?

Conflicting priorities. Because my professional life is packed, I rarely get a good stretch of time where I can concentrate on a single project. That’s why I wrote Hunted as four separate stories to start with, just to break it down a bit. I like those stories, but I think it works best as a single narrative.

What character in the Shifter’s World Series would you like to bring out of their book for a day? How would you spend that day?

Selene in Hunted fascinates me. She’s packed full of determination and spirit, surviving on her own in the wilds, but also she’s lost: her memories are vague; just as she gets insight into her past that memory is snatched away. So frustrating for her! And she’s clearly special: not only a survivor, but someone who has a past, and someone who is different now. I’d chill with her, maybe take her to a spa – her life is tough, so she deserves a bit of  pampering. And maybe that would help her to start to unravel her memories: I’m really keen to find out more about her past and why she’s so special and a day at the spa would be a lot easier than writing her story to find out!

Tell us about your writing routine/ rituals. Do you have a certain place or time of day that helps you write best?

For many, writing is a solitary activity, but I love the buzz of everyday life around me. So wherever I happen to be living, you're likely to find me at the nearest wifi hot spot with my laptop and a large mug of coffee.

What’s next for Ruby Fielding? Is there another Shifter’s World novel on its way?

Definitely! I’m hooked. I haven’t started it yet, as I’m focusing on another book project, among other things, but I’m hoping to get back into Shifter’s World soon. I’m torn about what to tackle next: although Hunted ends at a definite resolution, Selene’s story needs to be continued – I want to see where she goes next. Alternatively, I could pick some other characters in this setting and follow their story; I have a few ideas for that.

Where can we find Ruby? 

All the latest news on my writing and publishing can be found on my website and on my Amazon author page; also, why not join my mailing list for news and offers, or hook up with me on Facebook?

Is there something you would like to say to readers or fellow writers?  

Writing, publishing and reading are far more connected these days, and readers can make a real difference. If you like an author or a book, it’s usually very easy to find them on the web or social media, and most authors love to hear from enthusiastic readers. Equally, leaving a rating or review at Amazon or other booksellers, or on sites like Goodreads, can be really helpful – not only does the author get feedback, it helps other readers find books they might like. So please don’t be shy and retiring: we love to hear from you!

Hunted: a Shifters' World novella is currently available from:

• Amazon.com
• Amazon.co.uk
• Barnes and Noble
• Kobo
• Google Play
• ...and it will be available from Smashwords and All Romance eBooks soon!

Thank you for stoping by the ludis Ruby. You're welcome back any time, especially with a handsome shifter. :) Hunted will be available starting January 16th for an introductory price of $.99. 

Don't forget to leave a little comment luv! Have you read any Shifter's World Novels? What do you like most about shifter/were characters? 

Don't Touch EBook Release Day!

Don't Touch is available on Smashwords today!

Blurb
Dr Ryan Reign has unlocked a gift she calls a curse. Detective Jackson Prince and his partner need her help to stop a serial killer before he murders again.

One problem Dr. Reign can't touch or be touched. She's become a recluse never leaving her home for fear of what she might'see'. Jackson knows he has to help her accept her gift or there will be more deaths. 

It takes a woman's touch to catch a killer. 

Excerpt 

 It had been months since she had ventured outside of her lawn. Ryan didn’t understand what was happening to her at first. Since the incident on her last day at work, she has tried to make sense of it. Or at least find out what it was and how to stop it.

            She sat at the computer nursing a cup of cocoa February in Florida was the dead of winter. It would be up in the seventies in another week but right now it was in the forties. Ryan was searching the net for the gazillionth time. VISIONS, VISIONS BY TOUCH, PSYCHIC were the search words she used. The screen blinked and an all too familiar list popped up. Near the bottom of the page was something different. “The Circle.”

            Clicking the link she waited not expecting anything. The site came up and they had all the usual. Tarot, crystals, books, psychic readings. “Usual BS, I could have just gone to Cassadaga for that.”

            Cassadaga fancied themselves the psychic capital. Might be, the entire town was palm readers, mind readers, astrologists, numerologist, you name the psychic brand and there was a store front for it. In the past they have had to block the town off on Friday the thirteenth and Halloween due to all the traffic and weirdness.

            Just as she rolled over to exit the page she saw a flashing box. “Have a question about your gift? No, I have a question about my curse though.”

            She typed in a brief description of her problem. When I touch stuff I see things. Am I crazy? Hitting send with her email, attached Ryan sat back and felt the sting of tears. How much more can she cry? Every day for the last who knows how long now she cried. About to sign off her mailbox blinked.

Hi Ryan,

            My name is Barbara. I have a gift like yours, it is called psychometry. Or object reading. You can see bits of others lives by touching things they touched. Especially when the emotions are strong.

            Ryan blinked psycom-a what? Object reading? Barbara went on to explain the positive and negative hands, one leaves an imprint the other can read it.  She shook her head and clicked reply. “I don’t care how it works. How do I turn it off?” Send. A few minutes later.

            You can’t turn it off. You can learn to control it. Which hand is your positive hand? The one you “see” with. It is usually the hand you write with. Use the opposite one more until you get control of your gift.

            “Get control! I want it gone!” She screamed furious. She hadn’t been able to go anywhere or even touch her sister without some kind of vision haunting her. Angry, she signed off and paced the floor.

           

            They pulled up into the driveway of an old Victorian home on the lake. Not many of these homes lasted through the ages but this one had been kept pristine. The detectives walked up the porch and noticed the furniture was covered in plastic sheets. Maybe the good doctor was gone on holiday, or playing a round of golf.  Thomas knocked on the door. The door opened a crack, he held up his badge. “Good afternoon, I’m Detective Thomas Lord and this is my partner Jackson Prince, is Dr. Reign home?”

            Ryan stepped back and wiped her face then opened the door a bit wider. “I’m Dr. Reign, is there a problem detective?”

            Jackson stepped closer to the door. “Dr. Ryan Reign?”

            Her eyes narrowed a bit. “Yes, Dr. Ryan Reign. Want to see my drivers license, Detective Prince or should I give it to his lordship?”

            Thomas shot Jackson a look then turned back and smiled warmly. “That won’t be necessary, I apologize we were uh… under the impression that…. Well what we’re here for is to ask you about one of the last cases you worked on.”

            She tilted her head a bit and glanced at the folder. “Which case?”

            Thomas opened the folder where she could see. “The murder of Jillian Hilliard.” The men watched as every bit of blood drained from her complexion. Ryan swayed and caught the door to stay upright. Jackson reached a steadying hand and she jumped back away from him.

            “Don’t! Don’t touch me! I’m… I’m sorry I can’t help you.” She slammed the door. Ryan leaned against the oak and slid to the floor sobbing hysterically as the vision she saw that day replayed its self. Only now it was worse she had a name to go with the horror she had to witness.

            Jackson shook his head as Thomas headed down the steps behind him. “I don’t understand, Jack, you were only trying to keep her from falling.”

            “I don’t’ think that was it. Every drop of blood drained from her body when you opened that file. What ever happened to her that day has that lady terrified.”

            That night Jackson couldn’t sleep. He had the sinking feeling this was going to get much worse before it got anywhere at all. 

 Grab your copy on Smashwords  for $.99 launch week special March 25th through 30th! 

Want to get a paperback copy or meet the author. Come see me March 30th at the Authors in the Park event Spring into Art! Get all the details here Events and Appearances  or AIP on Facebook 

Don't Touch and the Next Big Thing

The Next Big Thing is a blog hop where authors talk about their next work in progress or soon to be released. I was invited into the loop by author Mary Ann Bernal, you can check out here next big thing the release of The Briton and the Dane: Concordia in Jan. 2013.

Alright, now for my next big thing...

What is the title of your book? 

For me the next big thing is the up coming re-release of the paranormal thriller Don't Touch to Kindle and Smashwords! 

About Don’t Touch

Dr Ryan Reign has unlocked a gift she calls a curse. Detective Jackson Prince and his partner need her help to stop a serial killer before he kills again. One problem Dr. Reign can't touch or be touched. Can the hard as nails cop Jackson find a way to touch her heart without touching her skin in order to stop the bloodshed.

Where did the idea come from for this story?

Don’t Touch was a NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) Novel. I was reading a book at the time on the paranormal and there was a chapter on psychic gifts. I was fascinated by psychometry, the ability to obtain knowledge about an object, or about a person connected with it, through contact with the object.

I thought how would that affect someone’s life to suddenly not be able to touch everyday objects without some kind of side effect. What if that person had no idea what was happening or how to control it? Then I thought wow what if they were the only person who could solve something like a murder…. And so a plot was born.

What genre does your book fall under?

Don’t Touch is a paranormal thriller with a dash of romance. I tend to write in multiple genres. Genres are like potato chips for me, can’t have just one :)

How long did it take to complete the first draft of this manuscript?

24 days. No kidding. NaNoWriMo works J

Who or what inspired this book?

I’m not sure there was any set inspiration. It was just a grouping of little ideas that rolled into a big one to form a plot and characters. I knew I wanted to write a murder mystery for NaNo, with some places I picked out around Lake County, Florida. Then the paranormal influences started to creep in and poof…... A coroner who can’t touch or be touched but has to find a way to turn her curse into a gift to find the killer before he strikes again.

What about this book would pique readers’ interest?

Don’t Touch isn’t your typical thriller.  Murder, a reclusive doctor, and a gritty cop with a quick temper make an enjoyable ride through the pages. The underlying theme is for the story is there is always light at the end of the tunnel. We can’t give up on life when it gets tough if we can hang on we might find that what we thought was a curse has brought us a bundle of gifts. Maybe one of them sexy as hell and bearing a pepperoni pizza. Right Jackson? :o)

If you can’t wait for the relaunch of the re edited version for Smashwords and Kindle no problem you can purchase Don’t Touch at one of the links below or click on the Books by Elise tab at the top of this blog. You’ll also find HALF and In the Dark!

Don't Touch on iTunes  (ebook for you iPad or ipone) 

Don't Touch Epub edition 

Don't Touch on Amazon (Paperback) 

Keep an eye out for the upcoming announcement of when Don't Touch will be available for your Kindle and more! 

Did you know you can collect my book covers and get them autographed? Check out my page on Authorgraph 

Have you read Don’t Touch or any of my other books or stories? Share your thoughts or a review below. I’d love to hear what you have to say!

Gladiator's Pen Flash Fiction: The Rosary

Nightmare Fuel photo prompt 

Father McKenna looked out at the congregation as they stood from their pews to sing with the choir. His eyes slipped shut as the organ notes began to echo though the sanctuary.

The high ceiling echoed with the faith filled voices of those present for mass this night. Did they know? Could they see the difference in him?

His eyes turned to the crowd. Some stood their hands out palms upward to catch Heaven’s blessings. While others lifted their faces as if God would press his lips to their brow to take the sorrow from their souls.

What of his soul, did it exist or did she drink it with her seductions. He gingerly touched the edge of his collar, grateful it hid his secret beneath. The church faded before his eyes as his mind replayed the memory of last night.

***

He couldn’t sleep, the night was too warm in the rectory. After restless minutes of failed attempts to find comfort, the Father walked out into the garden. He knelt before the stone cross in the center with is rosary.

McKenna bowed his head and crossed himself as he began the prayers. He turned the beads in his fingers as he spoke. “Our Father, Who art in heaven. Hallowed be Thy name… “

As the words fell into the night his soul began to calm, his eyes closed as he opened to deity’s touch. The air around him stilled, a dark silence descended. He took a deep breath to clear the distraction his focus on God as he continued to pray.

A soft giggle broke the silence, Father McKenna opened his eyes and fell backward with a startled breath. A young woman stood behind the stone cross her arms wrapped around it. Her petite fingers covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. 

Her eyes were dark sunken into her face as though it had been a hundred years since she last slept. McKenna could feel darkness in her. “The church is open for prayer. The rectory is private, my child.”

The girl, no thing… pushed from the stone, her tongue slowly moved across her bottom lip. “Child? Priest… you’re not even old enough to be my father.”

McKenna stilled as she stood over him. His eyes couldn’t focus on her face, dizziness fell on him.

She… it, bent to bring her face to his and sniffed at the air before him, then again at his neck. McKenna’s pulse jumped as she moved closer, her lip curled wickedly. “I smell fear on your skin. Is your faith not strong enough?”

Her breath a bouquet of decay, soured milk, and roses filled face. The father coughed and swallowed back the sickness. “He will protect me, my faith is strong.”

Her fingers slid through his hair slowly as she gave a sound something between a scoff and curt laugh. “No, priest, faith can’t protect you. Your hair is so soft, you do smell nice, fresh.”

The creature nuzzled his neck, for a brief moment the gentle touch of her fingertips along the line of his neck distracted him from what he was. His hand clenched and he felt the rosary wrapped in his palm.

He drew back from her. “I am a man of God, I will not be corrupt.”

The creature was undeterred rested her brow to his. “You were corrupt the moment you spoke to me, priest.”

That last word she spat into his face with contempt for all he was and believed.

This close he could see her eyes were dead, soulless things. He felt his heartbeat slow, her tiny hands grip his shoulders. Those hands had strength that defied their size. She moved closer, her head tilted toward the side of his neck as if to kiss.

McKenna pushed her off as he scurried backward until he could stand and put distance between them. “Be gone unclean spirit.” He swung the crucifix; the silver cross struck the monster across her cheek.

She hissed and pressed a hand to her wound but not before, he saw blood thick and black ooze forth. The blood of a corpse. Her eyes shifted until there is no white left in them. He gazed into orbs of pure onyx.

McKenna tried to look away but those orbs held him captive. In an attempt to break the spell, he rose the crucifix between them. Bluish smoke rose from the bits of flesh and ooze that clung to the holy item.

“Unclean, perhaps you should look in the mirror, priest.” She brushed the ooze from her cheek; the wound closed and began to fade from her skin.

When it vanished, McKenna looked at the rosary to see the gore still present. He hadn’t dreamed the gash. Though his faith was strong, the hand which clutched the beaded strand trembled. “I am a child of God.”

She laughed, not the girlish giggle that brought his attention from prayer. This was as though gravel were being poured into his ears. Only something made of darkness could laugh like that. “Does he love you, priest?”

He gasped as her voice whispered behind him against his ear, she had moved faster than a blink. “Despite the blood I smell on your hands?”

He could not stop the shiver which coursed down his spine when her breath fell down the line of his throat. “Old blood, long forgiven. He loves me.”

McKenna turned his head to look at her, but his eyes focused on her lips not her eyes. “He has love for you.”

She cackled again, the sound dug painfully inside his ears. “Love for me, an unclean beast? You think I still have a soul to save? Perhaps I don’t want your salvation.”

The edge of her fingernail trailed down his neck. “You have to wait for your rewards in Heaven. I get my rewards when I take them.” The nail turned and sliced into his flesh.

He froze caught by fear and her gaze. Her lip curled into a grin that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his days on earth. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “My reward tonight, shall be you.”

McKenna tried to push her away again but he was powerless held in her gaze, one hand at his throat a razor like nail dug at his skin as the other hand fisted in his hair. His mouth opened to scream, protest, cry for help, but nothing uttered forth. Only a groan of pain as she drew back his head and struck the line of soft flesh she exposed.

The next moment he knew dawn had begun to break. The beams of soft light danced over his face to open his eyes. The creature had gone but her kiss remained on his neck, he felt the punctures gingerly and hissed in pain. He lived… at least part of him had survived.

As McKenna stumbled to his room he felt changed, the world seemed too bright, the light ached his eyes.

**

Silence called him back from memory to Morning Mass. The songs were finished, the voices of the blessed quiet to receive the message. McKenna stood and approached the pulpit. Was he cursed, could he speak the words?

His rosary clean and polished lay gazing at him. It had burned the thing; if he was cursed, it would him also. It was time to see if his soul was her reward. McKenna closed his eyes and uttered a prayer as his hand descended on the rosary, and the truth of his soul.

Danielle Thorne talks about Death Cheater on Glaidator's Pen

Pirates, biologists and ghosts… Oh my! The nice way of saying it, is "She's eclectic." And "she" would be Yours Truly. I'm a born romantic, but a suburban kid who grew up to be a busy mom and determined writer, destined to write about things besides spaghetti and grass stains. By thirty years old I took the leap from poetry and freelance writing into fiction. By thirty-five, I was reading Age of Sail books like Master and Commander and Horatio Hornblower and taking scuba classes. I never could bear to be like everyone else.

Much thanks to Elise and the Gladiator's Pen for allowing me to share news of my newest release, DEATH CHEATER, my first foray into the paranormal after writhing sea fiction and romance.

For me, my paranormal vision started after I visited some prehistoric Indian burial mounds. It was a haunting experience, and the town of Henderson, Tennessee, where I based my next novel, made a perfect small town setting.

Athena Gray lives vicariously through her sister because people in general avoid her. Whether it's strange things like dead butterflies fluttering to life, or the time she saved her dying grandpa just by willing him to live, Athena knows that she is different. The only person who doesn't seem to think so is Dan, the most popular boy on Omega High School's baseball team. But even Dan can't understand the reason she acts haunted, until a spirit roaming the local historic burial mounds takes an interest in people Athena cares about.

Athena is a strong, independent character who understands she doesn't have to fit in to be content with herself. She also knows that she has a gift. High school doesn't come easy though, because dealing with teen drama and her own social anxiety issues are as difficult as accepting her grandfather's death. With no parents to turn to and few friends, Athena has to dig deep when a dark angel enters her life at the worst time. And he doesn't just have information about who she is, he has demands.

Excerpt:

A low rumble echoed around me, and the tall, dark trees went still. Not even a leaf stirred. My heart hummed, and a tingle of apprehension made my palms damp. A snarl came from the shadow of a tangled thorn bush, and soft, padding footsteps shuffled in the late afternoon gloom. My breathing went ragged with fear. Maybe it was a raccoon or an angry squirrel.

Athena.

Whipping around, I stared hard into the murk. A voice. It sounded gentle, but at the same time it sent chills down my arms. I glanced up through the hooded canopy of tree branches and tried to see heaven.

God?

There was a growl, and the terror I'd been holding at bay zipped up my spine into my skull. I was sure my long hair stood on end, like when kids touched the electrostatic generator at the science museum.

Something was coming for me, and it wasn't something from the woods. It'd been following me all day. Maybe even my entire life.

Now don't be too concerned. Athena isn't left entirely to her own devices. Her older sister has her best interests in mind, and Dan Lipinsky, Athena's secret crush, seems determined to make her one of his closest friends.

Is there really such a thing as ghosts? Are there dark angels intent on making us miserable? How many of us have abilities we haven't embraced? DEATH CHEATER is an exploration into forces from the other side and our power to choose what is right over what they would influence us to do. Meet Athena Gray today and find out more.

Danielle Thorne

Blogging as The BalancedWriter

Check out DEATH CHEATER at Amazon.com

and  Desert Breeze Publishing

More Books by Danielle Thorne

Turtle Soup; 5 Star Environmental Romance. (Available at Smashwords, B&N and more)

The Privateer; Historical Adventure (Available at Amazon.com, Desert Breeze Publishing, B&N and more)

By Heart and Compass; Award Winning Contemporary Romantic Adventure (Available at Amazon.com, Desert Breeze Publishing, B&N and more)

Josette; Jane Austen-inspired Regency (Available at Amazon.com, Whimsical Publications, B&N and more)

Death Cheater; YA Paranormal (Available at Amazon.com, Desert Breeze Publishing, B&N and more)

Southern Girl, Yankee Roots; Poetry (Amazon.com and Willow Moon Press)

Author Chat with CP Bialois Author of Call of Poseidon

Gladiator's Pen welcomes Author CP Bialois to the Ludis! Refill your mug and sit back as we chat with the author of Call of Poseidon. 

Who is CP Bialois:

 I was born and raised in Pennsylvania and as a child I got into everything. Mostly things I shouldn’t have. To keep me out of trouble, and to save their sanity, my dad tried to get me interested in various things. Being all boys like army, construction, cowboys and indians, and superhero toys. He used them and movies to help me find an interest aside from tearing the house apart. It worked but no more so than when we began learning to read in school.

For me “Watch Spot run” didn’t hold my interest so I struggled to learn to read because of it. I wanted fun things to do and to his credit my father bought a stack of comic books and began teaching me to read with those. The teachers couldn’t believe how I went from one of the worst readers to one of the best because of comics and I’m sure she’s still in disbelief to this day. If she remembers me.

Since then I’ve written short stories here and there on various topics until one day I broke through the thirty page barrier and wrote my first novel. I still don’t know how I did it, but thanks to the support of my wife and friends I now have several books ready to be edited and published over the next year or two.

Are you a full time writer or do you bring home the bacon with a “day job”?

 I’m a full time writer but I’m also looking for something to help subsidize what I’m doing. I’ve also taken up editing, reviewing, and doing what else I can to help other authors achieve their goals.

Most writers are avid readers, do you prefer to read the same genre you write in?

 Yes and no. There’s no question that if you want to write something you have to read book in that genre to understand it better but my interests are all over the place. I do try to read similar works to what I’m working on in an effort to keep me motivated but I’ve found, for me at least, that reading out of the box stimulates me more and adds to the story.

What was the first story you ever wrote?

 Wow, that goes back a long way. I’d have to say it was a two pager about the Transformers after I saw the episodes “The Return of Optimus Prime”. It was about the potential for their war to be over and to finally have peace.

Do you outline or fly by the seat of your pants?

 I use a combination of both. I know in my mind how I want the story to start, what I want to happen, and how to end it but the rest I let it go and see where the story takes me. Often times it creates a major headache with continuity when its time to edit.

Describe your writing place? (you can provide a pic if you like)

 In general I can write anywhere but I prefer the local library or Starbucks. As long as I can sit comfortably with my headphones I’ll pound out a story.

Tell us about your latest release, Call of Poseidon.

 In Call of Poseidon, a conch shell that allows the person holding it to summon the power of Poseidon resurfaces in the Museum of Natural History in New York.

The night of a preview showing, an Illuminati agent steals the Conch shell Poseidon gave to his children ruling Atlantis to return it to it’s proper owners. To catch them a disgruntled police detective and a rookie FBI agent  are teamed together to find the agent and conch shell before it’s too late.

Where did the inspiration for this book come from?

 I’ve always been a big fan of mythology, Greek, Roman, and Norse so one day I was kicking around an idea about bringing it into the current day. It originally was a short story idea that developed into something more than I expected.

Did you learn something new about yourself or writing while working on this novel?

 Definitely. The biggest experience was that I could write a novel. Before all I could write was a maximum of thirty to forty pages. When the last page was done it was like a restraint disappeared for good.

What authors have influenced your own writing?

 For me Stephen King, Sue Grafton, Margaret Weiss, Tracy Hickman, Tom Clancy, and Mark Twain are at the top of the list.

What is your favorite coffee house drink or treat?

 Mochafrappucino from Starbucks. It can’t be beat.

Do you have any works in progress for us to look for in the future?

 The Sword and the Flame series scheduled to begin publishing towards the end of March. It’s a two book fantasy series in the vein of Dungeons and Dragons and Dragonlance. I’m also editing a science fiction novel called The Last World where Earth is the final existing colony from a once galaxy sized empire of humans. 

What would you like to say to your readers and/or fellow writers?

 I hope they enjoy my work as much as I do creating it.

Where to find CP Bialois and his books.

 Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCPBialois

Twitter: @cpbialois

Blog: http://cpbialois.wordpress.com/

Blog: http://callofposeidon.wordpress.com/

Blog: http://theswordandtheflame.wordpress.com/