Onyx existed in a constant state of guilt over what she considered to be stealing the best years of Noah’s life. What some would call robbing the cradle or being what was currently called a cougar.
It was the opposite of the norm, in which men had a tendency to date and marry younger women.
When Onyx brought up the topic, Noah pointed out how it was no longer a big deal for couples to have differences in their age. “Age is just a number,” Noah would say, having pointed out the age difference between Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. “She’s like 15 years older than he is.”
First, Onyx had absolutely no idea who these people were since she never watched television. And the 15-year age difference paled in comparison to their ages since Onyx was 114 and Noah was still in his 30s.
The thing that made the age difference livable, no pun intended, was that ghosts appeared as the age they were on the day they died and returned as their perfect selves. No scars or blemishes or wrinkles. Even severed limbs reappeared.
She may have been 114 years old, but in terms of appearance, Onyx looked 39.
And as a ghost, she would be 39 forever.
Assuming she could get the energy.
Onyx watched as Noah took advantage of the last bit of daylight, shirt off—sweating and swearing when the rocks wouldn’t fit together—his skin glistening with sweat and red with color.
Onyx held up her hand and examined it. Unlike Noah’s, her skin was gray. Transparent.
When she held the hand up to her face, she could see right through it.
Unacceptable.
Tonight, she would go to the hospital and see if there was anyone whose time had come. If there wasn’t, she would go into town and look for an addict shooting up in a dark alley—the kind that could be found in all towns, even small ones like Crimson Cove.
She had no problem taking drug addicts. They were killing themselves, anyway. If they wanted to die, she was happy to help them along.
Those who were young and healthy? No. Onyx’s code would not allow it. They were off-limits.
And children? Never.
Onyx walked to the opposite side of the lighthouse and peered out toward the water, seeing thin red lines of red forming as the sun was being slowly swallowed by the ocean.
Soon it would be dark. It was time.
Monday, October 24, 2022
The Ghost Circus: An Onyx Webb Supernatural Thriller by Diandra Archer - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular
The care and feeding of vampires with Jen Colly #ParanormalRomance
Excerpt
Savard
watched her delicate jaw drop at the sight of his fangs. Never in his long life
had he shown a human what kind of creature lurked behind the visage of a man.
He waited for her scream, expected her terrified flight or even a fainting spell.
Instead of acting like a normal human, she just sat there, taking it all in,
processing, and then out of the blue, the minx slugged him in the shoulder.
He
groaned, not so much from her punch, but from stabilizing his core muscles to
keep his body upright. Through gritted teeth, Savard asked, “What the hell was
that for?”
“Give
it a guess,” she huffed, not frightened, and certainly not shying away. “You
can speak. Just say what you are. You didn’t need to threaten me with the pointy
teeth.”
“Wasn’t
a threat…won’t bite,” he mumbled. He knew he was behaving poorly, but his body
ached, his hunger beat a heavy cadence against his tongue, and this woman had
ruined his plans for a quick death.
His
eyelids drifted shut, his head tilted back against the cushion. He was getting
worse. The pain was there, but not exactly excruciating, making it easier to
speak. His body was numbing out, going cold on the inside. Sensation was slipping
away, along with life.
“If
you’re what I think you are, then…” her soft voice trailed off, as if
redirecting her question.
“What
can I do? Be honest.”
“Nothing
you’d be willing to do,” Savard said, cracking one eye open to observe her
reaction, and when she shifted closer, he suddenly realized she still held his
hand. In fact, her grip had never wavered. Even after he’d bared his fangs.
“Like
letting you bite me? How can you be sure I wouldn’t?”
“I’m
not asking.”
“But
if it would help you…” Her delicate eyebrows scrunched together, and she asked
in earnest,
“Would
it help you? And would it hurt?”
His
lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile that never fully formed. For some
reason, he found explaining the nuances of a vampire’s bite to this innocent
human amusing. “Blood heals. A bite is more pleasure than pain.”
“I
wouldn’t turn into a…”
“No.”
“When
you bite someone…” Her voice was hesitant, the first subtle hint of trepidation
he’d found in her. “Do they die?”
“No.
Life is precious,” he said quietly.
Deafening
silence surrounded him and he closed his eyes again, the calm lulling him. Several
minutes passed, or perhaps more, and then he unexpectedly caught her scent. The
soft, delicate flesh of this woman had a scent all its own, and he opened his
eyes to see her leaning close to him, her hand pulling that fluffy white-blonde
mass of randomly braided hair away from her neck. Savard growled, closing his
eyes against the temptation, and turned away from her.
“Why
not?” she asked, her steady voice sending shivers through his battered body.
Teeth
clenched, he said, “You should have left me there.”

Bloodlink by Raye T. Watson - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular
Something is wrong. I’m finally waking up. I can almost feel my consciousness slip into focus, but I still feel like I am floating.
I pry my eyes open, and I can see I am lying in a bed, but I can’t remember how I got there or when I’d gone to bed. Had I been hallucinating? Is Ryan okay?
I put my hand to my head, or I think I did. I can’t feel it. I can hear movement, but I can’t feel anything. I frown, realizing the floating feeling hasn’t gone away. It isn’t really like floating; it isn’t as soothing. It’s just... nothing.That scares me.
My eyes pop open, and I sit up, feeling like my heart should have shot to my throat. This isn’t my bed. This isn’t my room.
It is dark in this room, but I can see it fine. Moonlight filters in through the window to my left and helps define the room. I am in a four-poster bed in a renaissance style room. It’s as big as my living room. It is beautiful, but how did I get here?
I hear the rustle of the bed covers and look down. I can see my hands on the covers, but as I grip them, twist them, and throw them away from me, I still have no sense of their weight or texture. I rub my fingers and hands together, but nothing.
I can’t feel... anything!
Alarmed and panicked, I take in air through shallow and quick breaths as I kick away from the things I can’t touch. In the process, I fall backward over the side of the bed and hit the floor with a thud. I wish I could say that it hurt. But without the bang that resonated in the room as I hit the ground, I may not have known I’d fallen at all.
What is wrong with me? Tears of fear fill my eyes. Fear as intoxicating as poison burns inside me, and I begin to cry, too scared to think. I crab crawl quickly away from the bed, as if it was the thing that made me this way. I crunch against the far bedroom wall, which stops me from going any further. I turn and run my hands along the wall, but it’s the same as the bed. Without my sight, I wouldn’t even know it was there. Terror grips me, and I curl up in the corner and hug myself, but it doesn’t help. It’s as if my whole body is filled with novocaine.
Before too long, I can hear footsteps outside the room I’m in. They sound like they’re coming toward me. They are going to find me. I don’t know if I want them to or not.
Friday, October 21, 2022
MtG's Favorite Books
Excerpt:
Evangeline stood up and sighed. She started to walk down the street in the direction of the Duke’s house, done her trailing for the night, when she heard a voice behind her, “Did you expect to track someone who is already tracking you?”
She turned to see Josepina standing in the middle of the road in a blue gown with blue and gold embroidery along its hemlines and birds of all sizes and shapes embroidered into every spot and space on it. Looking at the dress Evangeline wondered how Josepina stalked her so inconspicuously. Did she go around town hiding in holes?“Yeah, I guess I was a little optimistic in my skills,” Evangeline said.
“Not a little,” Josepina said, “You must know something about me now. I could lead his highness in eternal circles, Evangeline. You would have more chances tracking him, actually. So why is it that you hoped to find me?”
“Well, I guess I was just practising tracking...” Josepina was looking at her with an amused smile. Evangeline knew that Josepina could sense if she was full of shit. Obviously Evangeline could have practised on anyone. She changed approaches,
“Well, I guess I’ve never known a lady of...pleasure?”
Josepina’s smile grew broader, “And what do you hope to learn from me?”
Evangeline’s face turned red, “Nothing, actually. I guess I was just curious about you because you have so much more life in you than most people here. You still talk about everything and seem to think about everything. It’s…. rare. And your clothes...how do you do it?”
“That is a much more interesting question than I thought you had,” Josepina said, “the dress...well, I create them out of hunger during the day with whatever materials I find. Crocheting and embroidering is time consuming. A perfect activity. Dressing up is also time consuming. Another perfect activity. Though I think most find the contrast of the bright clothing and their own ugliness something of a depressing reality.”
Josepina looked up at the night sky and then at Evangeline, “I will walk with you to the Duke’s” She began to walk and Evangeline stepped up beside her.
“The way we are now,” Josepina continued, “vampires as you like to call us, is a stagnant way. We cannot change, on the outside or the inside. You have seen that Ehvan can memorize facts, but his mind will always be that of a child. The inner maturation of his brain is related to the physical changes that happen within it. Something that cannot happen in this state. Someone whose mind was not very...developed...before, will not develop much now. They will know more facts. Learn skills. But they will not grow inside as humans.”
“And you?”
“I suppose my goal was always to understand other humans and through that to understand and know myself. I never considered that it was anything unusual, but looking around me now, I see that it is a rare goal.”
“I wonder what I would be like as one of you,” Evangeline said offhandedly.
“An odd thing to wonder after seeing us,” Josepina said, “though the fact that you actually thought to ponder this means that you would do better than most. You have almost no sixth sense ability but you have more depth than most pretty, young girls.
“Thank you. You know, I didn’t think you liked me much, to be honest.”
“I’m still deciding,” Josepina smiled a little shrewdly, “However, you stood in front of a city of beings that could rip you apart and you were able to look at us and speak to us as if we were still people. I respect that. Respect is more important than like.”
Evangeline let a couple minutes pass in silence before she asked the next question,“So, is it really true about the physical intimacy? I mean, is it impossible for you now?”
Josepina looked at her with that half-curious, half-knowing look and Evangeline quickly added, “I’m just wondering since there are some married couples that I have seen...”
Evangeline was doing her utmost to convince her face not to turn red. Of course she wasn’t just curious out of the blue. She was in an unspoken, apparently platonic, bed-sharing arrangement with a male whom she wanted to kick in the head for the majority of each night while at the same time looking forward to each morning in his room. Every day, when she put down her book and climbed under the covers she lay stiff and anxious, wondering if he would lie down beside her, knowing that he occasionally did, but never being awake when it happened.
Josepina’s lips curled into a wide, knowing smile and killed any chance Evangeline had of keeping the colour on her face normal.



















