Excerpt:
Jewel is humming an 80’s hair metal song to herself as she crosses the last street of the day and steps onto the sidewalk on her block. It’s a song that never gets old; however, where she has heard it recently enough to cause it to ear worm into her consciousness, she does not know. It has been a pleasant walk home. She notices no demons on her way, and if present, none challenge her.
She notices her stalker walking toward her and makes no effort to escape.
Whatever, she thinks. He’s not ruining my day.
When he reaches her, he spins and then walks beside her.
“You sound pretty full of yourself right now,” he says evenly. She detects a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I would not have pegged you for a Whitesnake fan.”
She merely shrugs.
“What’s the problem?” she asks. “It’s been a good day. Don’t try to ruin it.”
“Yes, I will be sad to do so. It has been a long time since you have been this giddy.”
“Giddy?” she repeats. “I have never been giddy.”
He makes a sound that she doesn’t immediately discern. It is something between a laugh and a grunt. “I will grant you that it is rare, but it has happened.”
Jewel lets it go.They are halfway down the block now and neither speak for quite a while.
“You must realize that this is not a game,” he says, finally. It isn’t a question.
Jewel sighs. “I should have snuck down the alley,” she says.“You already tried that tactic.”
“So, what do you want from me?”
“You have nothing that I need,” he replies.
“Okay, what am I supposed to do?”
“For one, you can stop poking them.”
“Poking who?”
“You know who, Julie,” he answers. “Leave them be.”
Jewel stops walking. They are near the foot of her driveway now. She turns and faces him. “How can I do that?” she asks. “They’re evil. They put thoughts in your head that aren’t yours. They lie, cheat and steal. Mine told me the vilest things. All this time I thought it was me…”
“I know that.”
She stops. “See! That just pisses me off! They put horrible things into your head, and you know all about it. Who are you?”
“You already know…”
“Don’t tell me that!” she snaps. “Just don’t! I want you to spell it out for me.”
He stands and simply looks at her.
“Sonofabitch!” she shouts. “So, you’re a guardian angel or something?”
He nods.
“Can’t you even say it?” she asks and throws up her hands
“Yes, I can. I am your guardian angel. Does that help?”
“No, it doesn’t help,” she replies, still smoldering. “That only begs further questions.”
“Fine,” he says. “Ask away.”
She glances about the neighborhood as she contemplates what to ask.
“So, no one can see you?” she asks finally. It is the first thought that occurs to her in the heat of the moment. “Anyone looking this way right now sees a crazy girl alone, throwing a fit on the sidewalk?”
“Only when I allow it. When they do, they see only a man.”
“Then do it now,” she says. “I’m tired of feeling crazy. I’ve lived a lifetime of that.”
“As you wish.”
“Do you have a name? Of course you do. What is it?”
“I am afraid I cannot tell you that.”
Jewel appears startled, as if slapped. “Excuse me?”
“I have a name, yes. But it is nothing you could pronounce.”
“Try me,” she says, but he quickly holds up his hands as if to calm her.
“Please do not misunderstand. When we are named… All of us, humans, angelic beings, otherwise, it is by others who are masters or parents. There is ownership implied. Mine has given me a name because he is my master.”
“God, huh?” Jewel says. “So, you’re a religious nut.”
“The very first kind,” he answers evenly.
She shakes her head. “So, what do I call you?”
“I have hope that whenever you call me it will be friend.”
“Isn’t that a song?”
“Yes, Kenny Loggins and Melissa Manchester wrote it.”
“It’s a very old song.”
“I promise you I am far older.”
“How come you know so much about music?”
“I spend quite a lot of time waiting. I amuse myself with music.”
“Who’s your favorite?”
“Would you believe the Mormon Tabernacle Choir?”
She frowns.
“They are quite good, you know.”
“Try again?”
“The Gregorian Monks.”
“Who? Seriously? Chanting? I don’t believe you.”
“I appreciate much, but once you have heard music in heaven there is really nothing else. Perhaps Zeppelin.”
“Get out of here,” she says, exasperated, and heads for her house.
He makes no move to follow.
When she reaches the ninety-degree angle at the walkway that leads to her door, she stops and looks back. “Are you seriously just going to stay out here forever?”
His face grows serious. “That is up to you.”
“How so?”
“You have seen demons with your own eyes, and now you know you have a guardian angel, and have had one since birth.”
“Do I know that?” she asks. “Sure, I have you to vouch for that, but all I have is what you’ve told me. And you really haven’t told me much.”
“In any event,” he continues. “What does that tell you?”
“About what, mysterious stranger?” she asks. “What does it tell me? It doesn’t tell me anything.”
“When you are ready, I will be here.”
“Ready for what?”
“I will be here,” he repeats. “But, please, leave them be.”
“Why should I?” she asks and holds out her hands.
He pauses, as if measuring his words. “Because they will soon poke back.”
Friday, November 29, 2024
James Garcia Jr's Top Ten Favorite Horror Novels
Wednesday, November 20, 2024
Barbara Hartzler Offers Advice for Dating the Seer
In my menagerie of Sacred Stones universe books, all of the main characters are part of the Chosen One bloodlines of three different secret societies. (Why not hit the trope right on the head, right?)
The Seer is the highest ranking Chosen One in my universe, which means that everyone in the Three Societies is after her powers.
Naturally, this makes dating the Seer quite a challenge!
But what would a good book be some conflict?
Here are Four Tips for Dating the Seer:
1. Be prepared to fight for your girl
Seers in my universe have been female for over a hundred years, which means there’s always some power-hungry, guy climbing the secret society ladder who wants to manipulate the Seer into marrying him.
Watch out for manipulative suitors at every turn! And be ready for a love triangle or quadrangle and other guys vying for your Seer girl’s attention.
What’s true love without a little competition?
2. Be honest and be yourself
The old adage about just being yourself rings true when dating a Seer. Because the Seer has an innate ability to tell good from evil, she will eventually figure out if you’re lying to her or trying to manipulate her.
So be exactly who you are, and our Seer girls will eventually see what’s been there all along, and who’s really there for her. (Pun intended 😉)
3. You can be the hero too
Guys, get your big shoulders ready because our Seer girl is going to need some comfort and encouragement as she deals with the side effects of her gifts. Be prepared for nightmares that may force you to go out in the middle of the night to save the world.
Also, there are sure to be crazy, literally insane, power-hungry villains plotting to take down your girl at any moment. You need to be ready to back her up at every turn—and maybe even step in if she’s about to get blindsided.
But I know you can do it!
4. Be willing to share ALL of yourself
One of the best things about dating the Seer is that when you kiss, you can see her visions. But beware, she can see inside your head too!
So if you want something real and lasting, dating the Seer might be worth all the risks. You’re sure to have a life full of adventure, life-or-death stakes, and oh-so-much joy!
Dating a Seer comes with a whole host of challenges—crazy villains, the power to see right through you, and plenty of intrigue and danger. On the bright side, a Seer’s loyalty is unmatched, especially with the bond you forge as you go through harrowing trials together. And your life will never be plain old normal!
Excerpt 2, Ch. 14:
Both Rocco and Ricky Montrose turned toward our hiding place.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I held my breath, leaning into Patrick for support.
Through the crack of the door, I could hear Rocco’s gruff hiss. “Did you hear that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” came Ricky’s mumbled reply.
Leaning in, Patrick rolled his eyes at me. “Some spy you’d make. Time for plan B.”
Then, in one deft move, he slid in front of me, pressing his hands to the wall on either side of my head, trapping me between his arms.
My breath hitched in my lungs as I stared into his mesmerizing dark eyes.
Brushing his nose against mine, he whispered, “Time for the makeout cover.”
Then he kissed me, a soft peck at first as we both kept our eyes on the door.
But no one came through.
“We need to tell the Sinclairs about Ricky’s plan,” I murmured against my boyfriend’s soft lips, reveling in his warmth and closeness.
“Or maybe we should find a way to stop him from attending the ball tonight.” Patrick’s mouth brushed against mine with each word.
“Good idea.” I leaned my head against the wall. “I bet Lucinda will see right through his lies if he stands her up for the ball,” I whispered.
“If only we can make sure he stays gone permanently.” He arched back, eyes roaming my face.
I let out a little whimper. He was too far away.
“We’ll think of something.” I grabbed him by the shirt and smashed my lips into his until
I forgot where, or when, we were.
Patrick broke away first, easing the swinging door open a crack. “Looks like they’re leaving. Should we follow them?”
“Probably,” I huffed, pulling back as I smoothed my hands down my silky dress. “But first, how do I look?”
“What?” He arched back, narrowing his eyes at me. “Why does that matter?”
“Because I’m pretty sure in 1924, if I came out of a secret door looking like I just made out with my boyfriend, people would take notice.” I swiped the edges of my lips, looking for any errant lipstick.
“And that would ruin our goal of being invisible. Got it.” He gave me the once over, his mouth tilting up on one side. “Do you have a compact or extra lipstick or something?”
Then his cute little half-smile morphed into a full-on sheepish grin.
“I think I brought the lipstick and a mirror.” I reached into the small bag hanging from my wrist and reapplied my lipstick. “There. All better. Now you just need to wipe your mouth.”
“Fine.” He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his lips. “Now can we go?”
“Yes. Let’s hurry,” I whispered, opening the door.
“I’ll go first. Just in case.” Patrick slipped by me and out the door.
I waited in the serving hallway for a few minutes, then ducked out into the parlor.
Thankfully, almost everyone had vacated the room. Anyone left was heading toward the grand ballroom as a bell rang throughout the house.
I followed the stragglers, slipping in behind Patrick as he skirted the edge of the crowd.
A middle-aged man and woman stood at the back of the room, the woman with a bell in her hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man announced in a loud voice. “Thank you for attending this year’s pre-ball luncheon, organized by my beautiful Charlotte.”
I recognized that name. That must be Mr. and Mrs. Beatrix.
Edward Beatrix went on about the history and tradition of the luncheon, while I scanned the crowd for the Montrose boys.
They were edging toward the back of the room when I spotted them.
“There,” I hissed into Patrick’s ear, pointing low so no one else in the crowd would see.
Just then, they slipped out into the hallway.
Wasting no time, Patrick grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the crowd. For my part, I raised the back of my hand to my forehead, feigning a fainting spell.
Not my finest moment. But hey, you gotta work with what you’re given.
As soon as we reached the long hallway with a dozen doors, we caught sight of two dark heads. Rushing forward, we tried to catch up with them.
But they disappeared again. Just vanished into thin air.
We hustled as fast as we could in our 1920s getup down the long corridor. When we reached the end of the hallway, there was still no sign of them.
“What the heck?” Patrick’s head swung around. “Do they have stones that make them disappear now?”
I glanced around, scratching my chin. “No, I don’t think that’s it. We would’ve seen some kind of light or heard rushing wind if they used a portal.”
He snapped his fingers. “Look at you, being all smart and logical.”
I grinned at him for a second, but it faded fast. “There’s got to be something else we’re missing.”
The Three Societies were known for their hidden tunnels and secret rooms, and the Guardians were no exception.
He scrunched his bushy eyebrows together. “You mean like a secret door or something?”
“Yes.” I nodded at him. “Exactly like that. Who’s the smart one now?”
His sideways half-smile reemerged. “Okay, let’s start tapping the wall and see if we find something.”
I pointed to the right side, towards the back. “They disappeared somewhere around here.” I made a big circle with my arm.
We both started knocking on the walls—softly so we wouldn’t draw attention.
I scanned the dark wood paneling as I knocked, and then my gaze snagged on a strange piece of molding on the chair rail. Every ten feet or so, the waist-high mahogany molding was broken up by an intricately carved square decorative piece. Most were rosettes, but this decorative square was a familiar symbol.
Right there in the molding of the Beatrix’s hallway was a Guardian symbol—a circle with wings above and fire below.
“Here,” I whisper-screamed, pressing the symbol.
Tuesday, November 12, 2024
Release Day Blitz The Last Portal by Barbara Hartzler
Excerpt 1, Chapter 1, Book 3:
Lucinda, 1926“We did it,” I whispered to Everett, leaning into his side. Standing at the front door, we waved goodbye to Robert and Lillian Cooper as they strolled arm-in-arm down the path to their car.
My new husband closed the door with a smile that lit up his whole face.
“Our first successful dinner party as a married couple.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my temple. “The start of many more firsts to come, I hope.”
It was November of 1926, and Everett and I had been married for a little over four months. In that time, we had set up our own home with the wedding money from our parents. Thanks to Everett’s real estate knowledge and financial acumen, we’d purchased a two-story brownstone in the up-and-coming but immensely more affordable Queens borough.
At the back of our quaint property was a small cottage that had once been a carriage house. It was one of the main reasons we bought this property. Now my darling husband could rest easy, knowing his sister and nephew would be taken care of.
We set up the cottage for Nora and her son Grant to live, thus ending her constant worries over rent and how to put food on the table.
Everett worked as a financial adviser at the local bank between classes while he finished his degree. But he had plans to setup his own accounting firm once he graduated, despite his father’s wishes to work for the family business.
I was still working on my degree as well. After the successful protest last year, I was allowed to run for office in my junior year. Two months ago, I was the first female in history to be elected as Vice President of the NYU Law School.
And yet, at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder—could I really balance everything before Ricky Montrose enacted his own plans?
As the Seer, I needed to have children to continue the family bloodline. Despite our newly-wedded bliss, I was still nowhere near ready for that next step.
But the clock was ticking. Ricky Montrose and Rosie Stanton had opted for a longer engagement, probably because construction on Montrose Paranormal Academy was set to be completed by the end of the year.
Even so, Rosie and Ricky were scheduled to wed in the spring of 1927.
For the time being, he’d been focused on building his namesake school. But how long would that last?
I felt like there was a ticking time bomb always lurking somewhere over my shoulder.
When would my time expire? When would Ricky come after me to end the Seer’s bloodline forever?“You okay, Lucinda?” Everett asked, rubbing my shoulders.
I smiled up at him. “Yes. Just thinking about Ricky, unfortunately.”
He wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you.”
I sank into the warmth of his embrace. In my heart, I believed my new husband would always do his best to protect me.
But could anyone stand up to Ricky Montrose and win? He had the power of time travel at his fingertips, and big plans to manipulate the Chosen One powers into his own hands and take over the world.
And I for one hated being a helpless puppet, waiting for him to pull the strings and set another horrible chain of events into motion.
But what else could we do?
“Let’s go to bed, Snickerdoodle.” Everett drew back, moving his hand to weave his fingers between mine as he tugged me up the stairs.
“You scoundrel.” I smacked his arm. “That was my first attempt at baking anything on my own.”
For tonight’s dinner, I decided to try my hand at making cookies. The cinnamon-sugar-coated snickerdoodles seemed like an easy choice. But they had proved more than challenging.
The edges were a little extra crispy, but our guests had eaten them anyway. Robert had nibbled out the middles and Lillian had dunked hers in her coffee.“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” I asked as we reached the second-floor landing.
“No, probably not, Snickerdoodle.” He tweaked my nose as he opened the bedroom door.
I pretended to ignore him as I dressed in my nightclothes and slid beneath the quilt.
“Goodnight, Snickerdoodle,” he said, stifling a laugh.
“Goodnight, Scoundrel,” I shot back, wrinkling my nose as I burrowed further under the covers.
Everett turned out the light, and we snuggled until he fell asleep.
As I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, the blackness behind my eyelids didn’t stay black for long.
This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right. I could hear myself saying in some far-off corner of dreamland.
I tossed and turned as a strange scene screamed into focus like a talking horror picture—in full, living color.
Instead of being under construction, the picturesque campus of Montrose Paranormal Academy was now completed. The entire design was built out in a giant rectangle extending from the Guardian church, now situated at the backside of the grounds.
Half a dozen impressive brick buildings with formal white columns ringed the edges of a lush green lawn, complete with cobblestone paths artfully zigzagging across the landscape.
Every wrought-iron lamppost along each path now fluttered with bright green banners that read One School. One Society.
Green? That wasn’t one of the colors of the Three Societies. What was going on here?
My heart caught in my throat as the strange dream-scene unfolded around me.
This was it. This was Ricky’s endgame, right? He had to be behind this so-called “One Society.”
Thursday, November 7, 2024
Character Confessions - The Hunter’s Moon by Lee K. Rogers
Excerpt:
The animal stayed in the bushes, following along slowly and silently as it tracked its prey. He could smell it. Taste it. And it attracted him like nothing ever had before.
Do wolves think in the same way that humans do? Or do they rely only on instinct, hunting mindlessly?
Whether intellectual reasoning or animal instinct, the wolf knew it had to watch this woman. It wanted her. It needed her.
Ana breathed in the early autumn air as she headed away from the university and onto the darker streets of the neighboring suburb. It was an older neighborhood, built in the 1920s when the town of Rivelou had begun to spread from its central location on the river, south across the railroad tracks. This particular section of town had been built for the railroad workers: tiny shotgun houses lined up on even tinier lawns.
As Ana crossed Roosevelt Avenue, the streetlights ended, and the sidewalk was illuminated only by occasional porch or walk lights. She loved sauntering home from her evening classes this time of the year. The air, while it could not yet be called crisp, had lost its summer sultriness, a welcome change from the blistering heat of a Kentucky summer.
As she strolled down Harlan Street, farther from the more heavily trafficked avenue, the road became even darker. It was too soon for most of the leaves to have fallen; they were just beginning to turn red on this last week in September and were so thick on the trees that they hid the full moon. Part of the charm of the old neighborhood was the beautiful, large, old maples and oaks, but their roots also tore up the sidewalks. Ana tripped on one of those cracks. Papers, a lipstick, her wallet, and a few other necessary items spilled out of her purse, and she shook her head in disgust. How could she always trip in the same spot, night after night? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t memorized the uneven areas in the sidewalk after years of walking this way.
The young woman bent down to gather her various belongings and froze. Was that something growling? Somewhat spooked, Ana shoved everything back in her bag and hurried down the street. After a moment she slowed, listening carefully to the night noises around her.
Nothing unusual.
She shook her head. It must have been her imagination. She had slowed her pace and continued on when she heard the sound again. A low growl nearby. A dog? No one on this block had an animal big enough to make that sort of sound. That growl had definitely come from something larger than Mrs. Ahearn’s yappy little Pomeranian. She picked up her pace again.
Only a half block until she turned onto Sycamore, then another half block until she arrived at her own home.
The growl came again. She settled her purse more securely on her left shoulder, her computer bag on her right, and doubled her pace. There were no lights on any of the houses on this part of the block, and of course, the moon took that moment to hide behind a cloud. She took a deep breath and tried to walk at a steady pace. She wouldn’t run even though she could now hear the animal behind her as she rounded the corner. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her own porch light on as well as that of her neighbors, Joe and Linsdey. Only a few more steps to safety.
She was almost in front of her own door when she heard the rush of paws with nails clicking behind her on her sidewalk. With a howl, the animal knocked her down. Holding her computer case in front of her face, she yelled and pushed it at the animal’s huge, dark head. “Take a bite of that, you nasty beast!” It was all teeth and glowing eyes as it loomed over her, growling.
“What do you want?” she shouted. Though it had her on the ground, it didn’t make a move, just stood gazing at her. If she did move, it would strike. She had to do something. She drew a deep breath and prepared to scream when someone came running up behind her.
“Hey, you, get back! Get back!”
She turned her head and saw a man running toward her and the slobbering animal. The man grabbed a stick from the ground as he rushed forward, waving it at the animal.
“Back! Get back, you ugly beast!” he shouted again, striking the creature who turned, snarling at him. They stared intently at each other for a moment before the canine finally dodged the stick and lunged to take a bite out of the man.
The man got in a couple of good blows before the dog suddenly grabbed the stick, tugged at it, and knocked him to the ground. Fumbling in her purse, Ana took action just as the dog leaned back on its haunches preparing to strike. Just before he lunged on the fallen man, Ana found her can of mace and hit the dog in the face with the noxious spray. With a howl of pain, it ran into the darkness.
Several more porch lights suddenly popped on to light the night, and the street was filled with neighbors coming to check on the unusual commotion.
“Are you alright?” her rescuer, still gasping and out of breath, asked. “It didn’t bite you, did it?