Friday, May 27, 2022

Writing Advice with Kevin A. Davis #WritingAdvice #Giveaway $100 Amazon Gift Card


If you’ve ever fantasized about writing or being an author, then put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. Already writing, but unsure about any future? Keep writing.

An infinitesimally small amount of people will ever be famous writers so if that is your only accepted outcome you’ll bring yourself pain and disappointment.

It seems that my warning overshadows my initial advice, but being a famous writer isn’t the only option. Aim for your passion.Know that well-known acclaim is merely one of the satisfying outputs that are available to a small few. By writing consistently you will get better, gain satisfaction in your work, and more people will enjoy what youhave to offer. There are so many outlets which provide the opportunity to share including online forums where readers and writers share free space, magazines and anthologies that hunger for a variety of mediums, and your own blog or patreon/ko-fi account.


Expand a little and read outside your genre and regular interests, your writing will benefit with your diligence. I’m not a big romance fan, but instead of putting down a book that gets heavily into it, I study the interactions and think how that applies to a slow burn I might be writing, and where it does not.


It’s great if you’ve got the money to pay for a famous writer’s workshop, but there are free YouTube and podcasts that you can find. For myself, I enjoy Brandon Sanderson’s 318 classes, Writers of the Future online videos, and the Writing Excuses Podcast. I have signed up for emails where authors and editors give free advice, hoping that I’ll pay more.

Expose yourself.

Critique hurts, but writing in a vacuum will get you only so far. Share and take the occasion gut punch. An apprentice learning how to make a craft might get cut, bruised, or burned; writers and other artists take those injuries internally. Don’t give up, learn to grow from it. Most of it stems from the other person, their own pain, or their own preferences.

Again, write.

Every day to keep the practice a habit. One sentence. One paragraph. One chapter. Whatever you can manage that day between your schedule.

Who knows what the future might be if you try.

Book One
Kevin A. Davis

Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Inkd Publishing LLC
Date of Publication: 2/9/22 
ISBN: 978-1737391432
Number of pages: 265 ebook, 300 paper
Word Count: ~67K
Cover Artist: Warren Designs

Tagline: The Next Rave Might Be Haddie’s Last.

Book Description:

Will Haddie’s power be enough?

Haddie has a power she doesn’t understand – the bizarre ability to move objects back in time – unfortunately not in one piece.
With all that she has going on, Haddie ignores Liz’s call. Later, when she listens to the message, the panic in Liz’s voice is unmistakable, the words threatening to be her friend’s last. Overcome with guilt, Haddie puts everything on the line to find Liz.

Someone, or something disturbing is hiding amid the colorful lights and music of Portland’s raves. Nothing could prepare Haddie for the supernatural creatures she uncovers in the search for Liz in the secret underground raves. Haddie races time to track down Liz before she becomes another victim.

The next rave might be Haddie’s last.


Haddie swore. No wonder Dad had been calling. “Tell her I'm fine. Just looking for Liz.”

“And Dr. Aaron?” Terry sounded relieved that she didn't go off on him.

“How do you know him?”

He swallowed audibly. “Well, I mean, he's been a constant in these demon groups. A bit of a fanatic. But I got worried, and asked if anyone had seen a friend of mine around this sighting. He messaged me immediately and started demanding that I put him in touch with you. Said he knew you from last winter. That was the ski trip, right?”

Terry had posted a description of her in the forums. It didn't matter. The fight outside the hotel had to have attracted some attention, though she'd had pink hair part of the time. She opened her mouth, about to ask Terry if he'd heard anything about the fight outside the hotel, and stopped.
Wilkins would be after her shortly. The FBI wouldn't just let something like this go. She'd killed someone, no matter the circumstances.


“Huh?” She stared at the building where the rave would be happening. She needed to find Liz.

Get past those guards.

“What about Dr. Aaron? Do you want me to give him your number?”

She did want to know about the demons. He'd been suspicious of her and her powers, and had disappeared right after the fight. “Yes.”

He paused and she could hear him typing. “So what's going on? Still haven't found Liz? I mean, this could be serious. The more I look, the worse it gets. Missing people, on top of the suicides. One mom swears her son is in a mental hospital because of these raves.”

That sounded about right. Whatever the song did, she could imagine it driving her crazy. “I'm about to go into the rave now. I'm hoping to get Liz out. I'll let you know.”

“You're alone?”

“Yes.” She'd rather have Dad with her.

She peered at the building where the rave would be. If the guards were looking for her, likely considering the attack at the hotel, then she'd have to scout for a back way in. Before, she'd planned on walking in as if going to the rave, then scoop up Liz — and Matt.

“Maybe you should just call the police.”

She thought of a swat team facing down demons or the fanatical yellow-hazed men, with Liz in the middle. “Not yet.” This needed to be quiet. She looked into the mirror at the spray of pinkish brown covering the right side of her hair and leaving a shock of white down the left side of her face. Not very stealthy, Haddie. Maybe she had a hoodie in the back from last winter.

About the Author:

Kevin A Davis writes fantasy, especially urban and contemporary. His urban fantasy series, AngelSong, can be found on Amazon, Audible, and Ingram. There might even be a few paperback copies in the rural bookstore that he and his wife own. His Khimmer Chronicles series will be available starting late 2022.

Visit his website and sign up for his newsletter at 

Download a free ebook of Shattered Blood at 

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Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Avery Daniels Top 10 Vampire Movies and TV Shows #ParanormalCozyMystery

1) TV show Moonlight staring Alex O’Laughlin before he was in Hawaii Five-O.  Besides having the handsome Alex O’Laughlin I liked how the vampire character was more relatable – and he was a private investigator.  This probably influenced my story to some degree.

2) TV Show Blood Ties starring Kyle Schmid and Christina Cox based on the novels by Tanya Huff (I loved the books too!)  This vampire is more a lover than a fighter, although he has no issue about killing low-lifes. It addresses Henry’s moral lines he has drawn to exist as a vampire. The chemistry between Henry and Vicky is great.  I also love the theme song “Live Forever” by Tamara Rhodes

3) TV Show Buffy the Vampire Slayer was historic and Joss Wheadon knows how to weave drama with humor.  It was more than teen angst, by far.  “Once More with Feeling” is great.  This was a show where the secondary characters became stars and fan favorites as much as Buffy.

4) TV Show Angel.  Although I liked Buffy better, Angel was good.  I liked it better once they brought Wesley in for comedic relief because the first season was pretty dark.  Although I would have liked it even more if the character Doyle could have stayed in the cast.

5) TV Show Vampire Diaries.  I tried the books and didn’t care for them at all, but the show was a master at plotting.  It’s hard to have a cliff hanger at the end of every single episode.  The writers of this show are the real stars.  And then of course there is Ian Somerhalder who plays the conflicted dark brooding vampire so well.

6) TV Show The Originals one word—Elijah! Claus is the central character but I’ll be honest, I watched for Elijah and his conflicted character.

7) TV Show Dracula (short lived) staring Jonathan Rhys Meyers really plays up the sexuality of the vampire. Jonathan Rhys Meyers was the epitome of a sensual vampire that would destroy anyone to get what he wants. This takes the original Bram Stoker concept and tosses it on its head.  

8) Movie Blade staring Wesley Snipes.  Unique concept of a vampire killing vampires and Snipes embodies the character.  

9) Movie Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) staring Gary Oldman.  I have read the original novel and even seen plays adapting the novel.  Oldman shows us early on why he will win an Oscar eventually. Also stars Winona Ryder, Anthony Hopkins, and Keanu Reeves.  Of all the adaptations of the Dracula story, I liked this one best for a mix of acting and camera work.  There is only so much you can do with a novel written in 1897 for modern audiences, while keeping true to the original, but I thought this one did an admirable job.

10) Movie Van Helsing (2004) staring Hugh Jackman.  It isn’t stellar and seems to be all over the place with Frankenstein and werewolves thrown in, but Jackman took a flawed script and ran with it.  The original Van Helsing from the Bram Stoker novel was an older doctor and this transformed him into a handsome action hero. It was a little different take of Dracula as well.

First Bite
An Accidental Vampire PI 
Book One
Avery Daniels

Genre: Paranormal cozy mystery
Publisher: Blazing Sword Publishing, Ltd.
Date of Publication:  May 1, 2022
ISBN: 978-1-7355663-6-8
Number of pages: 298
Word Count:  57,425
Cover Artist: Molly Burton 

Tagline: What's a positive thought girl to do when she finds herself one of the undead? Recite plenty of affirmations and use those new toothy skills to assist her PI boss, of course.


In 24 hours, Misty Summers had the worst date of her life, was bit by a vampire, and her PI boss may close his business as he goes through a divorce. Looking on the sunny side, she decides to use her new vampire assets and become the investigator to keep her job and income. She doesn’t know what her future holds, but it can’t be any worse! When she starts following up on a missing woman’s case, she finds herself in the middle of murder. Even with her positive thinking and affirmations, she is finding her new reality daunting. But she vows to take a bite out of crime in her small lake resort town.

If you like Duffy Brown, Nancy Warren, Nova Nelson, Dionne Lister, Trixie Silvertale, and Leighann Dobbs, then you'll love this series with a quirky intelligent sleuth, small town lake setting, and tantalizing mysteries. Misty Indigo Summers is a positive thinking kind of gal and a most unlikely vampire and PI. 

Buy these fun and clean cozy mysteries and start enjoying Misty's adventures today!

Book Trailer:



“I never want to see you again.”  I slammed the passenger side door. Roger sped off in his red truck, his dragging muffler sounded like a tray of silverware ground in a garbage disposal.  That ended the date from hell.  He took me to a cheap restaurant, we saw the budget dollar movie, and I had to pay for my own popcorn.  I can understand being on a budget, truly, I get it. But then to get all handsy in a parking lot, right under a parking light!  He had the nerve to get upset when I said no.  I had to slap him.  When he slapped me back, I elbowed him in his jewels.  The complete jerk.   There was a sickle moon hanging lazily in the sky and a cool autumn breeze rustled the gold and russet leaves.  I walked faster to warm up.  I hadn’t brought a coat since I’d expected to be driven.  A gust whipped my hair across my eyes and I swept it back.

 I took a deep breath and wondered at the smell of autumn, the slightly sharp tang in the crisp air.  I wrapped my arms around myself.

The bright side was I stood up for myself and put an end to his assault.  Unfortunately, I’m stranded after eleven in a rougher part of town on a Sunday night with nobody around.  I wish I could strangle Roger’s pencil neck.  I can walk off my anger; we don’t have an Uber or such in the small town of Majestic.  I needed to recapture my positive vibes anyway, so a walk would do me good.  

Another positive item to the evening was I didn’t spring for a new or previously owned dress for the evening.  It would have been wasted on the moron, anyway.  I wore my deep purple sleeveless turtleneck and black pants.  It was classic and more than he deserved.  My best friend, Courtney, had assured me this blind date would be different.  Oh, it was different, all right, and not in a good way.  

I’ve never actually had a good date, not one single good memory of a date.  Tears stung my eyes.  Enough negativity.  I recited my mantra.  I am ready for the perfect man for me.  I am working on myself to be the person who will attract my perfect partner. After yet another disheartening experience, it’s all I can do to not blame it all on myself.  Nope, the right man is coming to me.  Yeah, okay.  I may be trying to convince myself more than attracting Mr. Right into my life.  I’m okay with that at the moment.

My low-heeled strappy sandals slapped against the sidewalk, an exclamation point with every step.  There wasn’t any traffic, and I had a couple of miles to go.  Other than my footsteps, it was quiet except for a dog barking in the auto salvage yard behind me. But I felt a presence and knew I wasn’t alone.  I sped up.  I was speed walking now and my heart pounded.  This really wasn’t a good area.  Majestic was a modest-sized town, just big enough to warrant two canines on the police force.  I didn’t want to find out firsthand about the seedy side of town.

Were those footsteps behind me?  I stopped abruptly. I heard a scuff, then nothing.  My senses screamed run, and even though my sandals weren’t the best for it, at least they were strapped on.  I grabbed hold of my purse strap to keep my purse with me.  I didn’t care how it looked; I took off running for everything I was worth.  My mind continued to yell, faster, faster!

One instant, it was a clear sidewalk in front of me, and the next I ran into a man who had just appeared.  My mind reeled at his abrupt materialization.  His eyes were strange; even in the dark, his eyes bore into mine.  I took my purse and aimed for his head. He moved so fast I barely saw a blur.  Next thing I knew, the guy was behind me, had pinned my arms, and was trying to give me a hickey!  

Worst day ever!  There just is no positive way to look at any of this night.  I struggled, scratched, and kicked but was losing my energy quickly.  I remember slumping to the ground. I think he was still attached to my neck.  I wanted to keep fighting, but I couldn’t even stay conscious.

About the Author:

Avery Daniels was born and raised in Colorado, graduated from college with a degree in business administration and has worked in fortune 500 companies and Department of Defense her entire life. Her most eventful job was apartment management for 352 units. 

She still resides in Colorado with two brother black cats as her spirited companions. She volunteers for a cat shelter, enjoys scrapbooking and card making, photography, and painting in watercolor and acrylic. She inherited a love for reading from her mother and grandmother and grew up talking about books at the dinner table. 

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Tuesday, May 24, 2022

Cover Reveal: Little Writer by Marina Hill #CoverReveal #LittleWomenRetelling #ClassicsRetold

Little Writer
Marmee’s Girls
Book One 
Marina Hill

Genre: Historical fiction
Publisher: Evergreen Books
Date of Publication: November 1, 2022
Paperback ISBN: 979-8-9862908-0-5
eBook ISBN: 979-8-9862908-1-2
Cover Artist: Marina Hill

Book Description:

A retelling of the classic coming-of-age story Little Women through the intimate lens of Jo March.

It’s 1862 and fifteen-year-old Jo March would rather be fighting in the war, like her papa, than improving her knitting skills on the home front. But societal conventions for the “gentle” woman—and her steadfast adoration for her three sisters—force Jo to stay behind and support the family, all the while rolling her eyes at Aunt March and daydreaming of becoming a famous author.

At home, love abounds in the March girls’ lives in the form of family, friendship, patriotism, religion, and—to Jo’s chagrin—romance. As each sister navigates their ascent into adulthood, Jo unwittingly ventures down a path of self-realization, using her gift of written prose to craft her voice, and thus, her truth. Perhaps, just maybe, she can strike balance between the freedom of independence and the warmth of partnership…

In this visionary adaptation, Little Writer tells the March sisters’ timeless journey to womanhood with a multiracial cast of characters, reimagining history to include diverse communities without elaboration.

Amazon      BN


The theater is such a grand building, with gilded designs and carvings decorating everywhere my gaze lands. I haven’t even seen the play yet and I’m impressed. I wish I could run my fingers over the golden carvings. I can dig up stories hidden in the curves and grooves.

“I knew you’d like it,” Laurie mutters.

I turn toward him, his black eyes glimmering as he looks at me. A blush runs up my neck. My arm tightens around his and I press my cheek to his shoulder for a moment. With a big family like mine, I’ve never been able to be me and only me. I’ve always been Josephine March—sister of Amy, Meg, and Beth. Never Jo March, writer of phenomenal stories. The love and affection

I’ve received have been a dished-out serving, for my sisters need some, too. It’s all the same, tailored ever so slightly for each of us.

But being friends with Teddy… it’s the first time someone is thinking of me—and only me.

The theater invitation is almost enough for me to feel every bit of my individual self—but I cannot shake the guilt. Amy wanted to come so badly and I was so harsh. I was trying to teach her manners, for it is improper to invite yourself places. But in turn, I forgot my own. It’s easy to lose the little amount of hold I have on my temper when it comes to my sisters.

Despite the sparkling elves and princes and princesses, I can’t enjoy the play the way I want to. Also because Laurie’s rowdy friends are often hushed by other guests.

Amy and I argue the most out of our family. I think it’s because we’re both the most passionate. Her with her art and propriety. Me with my writing and books. I try with such strength to tame my temper; I fail most of the time. When anger flares in my chest, I must get it out lest it burns me alive. In turn, it burns other people. People I care about—like Amy.

Oh, Amy. In the middle of the play, it takes everything I have not to run home and apologize.

“Teddy,” I say once the play is over and we walk into the lobby. “I don’t have any money with me. I was wickedly cruel to Amy before the play and I feel terrible. I want to buy her chocolate from the concession stand. I’ll pay you back the moment we return.”

With a gentle smile, Laurie pats my hand and walks toward the concession stand. Meg places a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m proud of you,” says Meg.

“I was trying to teach her,” I say.

She nods. “I know.”

Off to the side, one of Laurie’s friends—Ned, I believe—makes obscene gestures and poses with a statue. An employee reprimands him and Meg and I turn away, lest we be seen as part of his group.

“Must his friends be so abominable?” Meg asks, earning a snort from me.

About the Author: 

Marina Hill is a writer and artist with unconventional tastes; she craves the undiscovered and the ignored. If she isn’t daydreaming about her next story, she’s studying history or yearning to dash into the forest, build a farm, and never look back. Marina never lives in one spot for too long and loves to travel with her husky she named after Aang’s flying bison, Appa.

Monday, May 23, 2022

Sex Magic with Samirah the Sapphic Siren Author of Siren's Desire

If you haven't yet tried sex magic, I highly recommend it. 

What if you could create the world you desired? What if the orgasm wasn't the climax, but the portal? 

What if you could bring, through that portal, what you desire into this world?

What if an orgasm isn't a destination, but a place you never have to leave? 

Who was the one that made us think an orgasm was a climax or a destination? 


As I say in my debut poetry book, Siren's Desire, My orgasm isn't your mountain to climb. Colonizers will never know the value of this earth or my body.

While this isn't a clear spell or ritual, it is a blueprint. It is an example. 

Your spell is your own. Your ritual is unique. Your desire is your compass. Your orgasm is your portal. 

Siren's Desire
Samirah the Sapphic Siren

Genre: Poetry
Date of Publication: May 2022
Number of pages: 122
Word Count: 7K
Cover Artist: Ahrabi Raj and Samirah the Sapphic Siren

Tagline: I am not something desired. I am someone who desires.

Book Description: 

How do you leverage desire as power when navigating desire comes with navigating colorism and desirability? 

Samirah the Sapphic Siren’s poetry deals with that conflict directly then transforms ser societal reality through nature and the other worldly.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Colorism, Patriarchy, Rape. Trauma is not detailed with extreme depth or explicitness, but Samirah does express raw anger and hurt after dealing with them. This is about transforming trauma into anger, and then reconnecting with personal desire. This is not trauma porn.

About the Author: 

Samirah the Sapphic Siren (se/sem/ser) is a nonblack brown skinned Tamil siren who is usually perceived as a woman. For sem, navigating desire comes with navigating colorism, patriarchy, and desirability. Ser poetry deals with that directly then transforms ser societal reality through nature and the other worldly. Se is @theSapphicSiren on instagram and sapphic_siren on twitter.

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Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Author Advice– The Benefits of a Writing Buddy with S. Peters-Davis #WritingAdvice

First off - What is a writing buddy? The person you’ll come to trust and depend on for discovering those wicked words or wordagethat you missed or misinterpreted in your writing. And believe me when I say…everyone has them, and it takes a person other than yourself to find them.

I found my writing buddy at a writer’s conference that I had almost left - the first conference I had attended. I walked into the building, overwhelmed by the crowd, and immediately hurried back to my car. The cost to gain entranceand the fantastic workshops couldn’t justify my leaving. I called my husband and then ended up in tears because I didn’t know anyone, nor did I want to go back inside with all of those people. Thank goodness for my husband’s calm and witty attitude toward me and my crazy fear of socializing. He told me to go back inside and sit down at the first table, where I saw someone look me in the eye and smile. 

Okay…so I walked back inside, knowing no one would notice me. Everyone was seated as the welcome presentation started. I headed down the back row of tables, and a sweet woman looked up, caught my eye, and smiled at me. She invited me to sit…asshe sat by herself.I plopped down next to her. We hit it off as if we were long-time friends. I followed her around that day like a puppy. I believed she felt a lot like I did - alone, nervous, and anxious about being at our first writer’s conference.

That was back in 2004, and we are still writer companions. We’ve evolved in our writing and look to each other for critiques/editing/and advice. I can’t tell you enough how important she’s been in my success. She also plays the part of a cheerleader, as I also have for her.

Because we’ve more or less grown up with each other in our writing careers, we’ve learned from each other and gained much experience together. I love my friend’s stories, and she swears that she loves mine too.*smiles* Thankfully.

I know that critique groups have their value, but for me, one person, who I’ve come to trust, knowing that she’s always honest with me in her critiques, gives me great confidence in our relationship and my writing. And I believe that I do the same for her, as we have a solid pact to always be truthful with each other.

We’ve become close friends through the years. I would not be the writer I am today if not for her support. She’s given me confidence in my ability and keeps me moving/committed to each one of my writing projects.

An excellent writer’s buddy has your best interest in mind, and I can’t express enough how important they are to your success. I’ve been so fortunate to find one so early in my writing career, but it is never too late to start looking. There are a lot of writing groups that offer critique partners, and that’s an excellent place to start looking for someone who enjoys writing the same genre as you or a genre that you enjoy reading.

Best of luck with your search for finding the perfect fit; it’s well worth the time and effort.

I’ll close by saying thank you,Paranormalists, for stopping by and visiting. I appreciate your time and interest.

Heart Hugs,
Susan aka S. Peters-Davis

Kendra Spark Series 
Book Five
S. Peters-Davis

Genre: Suspense, paranormal, romance
Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
Date of Publication: April 2022
ISBN EPub: 9780228621263 
ISBN Kindle: 9780228621270 
ISBNWeb: 9780228621287
ISBN Print: 9780228621294
Number of pages: 157
Word Count: 54,800
Cover Artist: Michelle Lee

Series Tagline: Kendra sees ghosts, and then her BFF, Jenna, becomes one. The two friends and FBI agent Derek Knight form a team that fights for the victims of heinous, supernatural crimes.

Book Tagline: The FBI-VCU-SI team deals with the ultimate test of good vs. evil when the powerful, evil entity Chaos joins forces with the dark side.

Book Description: 

Kendra Sparks’ vacation gets cut short when Sassy Blaze, the captured voodoo priestess of the dark arts, hangs herself in prison, and a string of curious deaths follows. 

Attempting to stop Sassy costs lives, relationships, and creates unexpected complications, especially for Derek and Kendra. 

Who will defeat the voodoo, dark witch when she can possess whoever she wants?

The FBI-VCU-SI team must deal with the ultimate test of good vs. evil and it’s not looking promising, especially when the powerful, evil entity Chaos joins forces with the dark side.

Excerpt: Kendra’s Point of View

“Thank you for your assistance,” Derek acknowledged the man who guided us to the morgue.

“Now, I’d like this entire room cleared for at least an hour. Your morgue director can verify that order.” Derek nodded, and as he turned toward me, our guide moved away to the two working coroners, escorting them out of the room.

“Dang, this place reminds me of places in the dark plane.” Jenna stood in the center of the room and spun a slow circle. “It’s almost like I can feel Bertellia’s presence, even though I know that woman is gone forever.”  

Once everyone cleared the room, I went to work crushing and mixing up the concoction of herbs in a small burning pot. “I can see the film that cocoons the body you mentioned.” I lit the herbs, allowing a quick flame. Then I blew out the little fire and left the blended ingredients smoldering. As I waved the pot over the body, I said the ritual words. Jenna and Derek joined in the mantra, repeating it with me two more times to break the bond holding Mr. Mead’s soul.

A massive pop, deep enough to shake the floor, startled me. Jenna screamed. Derek jumped in front of me, pushing my body back. “Grab your blades. Mine’s vibrating as if it wants to act on its own.” He grabbed his dagger (the one that NaNa Rosa had given to everyone on our team for protection and guidance against evil spirits from the dark plane) out of the sheath tucked into the back of his pants.

Jenna slipped hers from the sheath strapped to her thigh.

The film surrounding Mr. Mead had disappeared, and the oozing, dark entity that rose out of him charged the air with a distinct acrid odor that immediately gagged me.

I grabbed a wastebasket and threw up.

“Wow, you actually tossed your cookies, Sparky.” Jenna stared at me. “Are you sick?” She stood next to me, dagger in her hand. “Come on, woman, we need you now.”

“Rotten eggs, Kendra. Do you have your dagger in your hand?” Derek’s full attention remained on the grizzly form of leaking pustule bumps and dripping saliva.

I puked again, and my stomach continued to buck and roll. My protection sigil burned, telling me this guy came from the dark plane and would love to feed off our energy. I had tucked the blade in my bag with the herbs. Right now, that satchel lay on the floor about three feet to my right. Gagging and swallowing, I inched toward the bag to hold off the inevitable next wave of nausea.

The entity pulled itself entirely out of Mead’s body, red eyes gawking at us. It caught my movement, and a wretched toothy smile spread across its disgusting thick, slimy lips. The horrendous monster stood on the opposite side of Mead and stepped toward me through the gurney and Mead’s body as if wading through water.

“Sparky, get your dagger!” Jenna readied to throw.

“You look tasty, you’re first,” it rasped and stretched a claw at me, snapping its sharp nails.

Derek and Jenna threw their blades, hitting the evil creeper in the heart and slowing its progress toward me.

I dove for my bag, and the hilt of my dagger snugged into my hand. I yanked it out and flung it with a snap of my wrist. The blade found its mark and sunk into the entity’s heart beside the other two daggers. A vicious scream howled out, dropping Derek and me to our knees with hands covering our ears. I watched as it burned from the inside out and turned into white ash that disappeared, leaving Mr. Mead’s spirit staring at us.

“Where the hell am I?” He looked from Derek to me to Jenna and back at Derek. Then his gaze wandered around the room. “Am I inside a morgue?” His mouth dropped open when he saw his body on the gurney. “Am I dead?”

“I’m so sorry to tell you this, but yes, you died. We don’t know how. Can you remember anything that happened?” I didn’t want to force him, but his anxious shaking took a drastic turn as he stared at our daggers lying beside his feet.

“Did you guys kill me?” His image faltered into momentary static, but then he restabilized into a vivid body, appearing alive. “I want answers.” His lips pinched together, and then his eyes wandered to his dead body on the gurney. He slumped and looked at Derek. “What will my husband do?”

I glanced at Derek and watched his eyes widen.

“Let us know who your significant other is, and we’ll inform him of your passing.” Jenna stepped closer to him.

Mr. Mead huffed. “What would you say? Even I don’t know how I died.”

“We believe it had something to do with Sassy Blaze.” Derek moved beside Jenna, and I followed.

“All I remember is heading to the prison wing to check on the prisoners there. I noticed one guard sleeping beside the door, totally against protocol, so I kicked his foot to awaken him. Then I noticed a green powdery substance around his nose and wondered if he was on drugs. That’s all I recall, other than getting slammed against the wall and hearing the iron door slide open. That normally happened for my prisoner check, but I don’t remember anything after that. I blacked out.” His eyes went wide. “Did anyone look at surveillance?”

“The monitors recorded static in that cell block. That’s why I’m asking you.” Derek took a couple steps to stand directly in front of Mr. Mead. “Sassy Blaze hung herself in her cell. That got caught on surveillance and then her body disappeared. Do you know anything about that?”

“Sassy is dead?” His spine went erect, and he shook his head. “No, that can’t be right. That lunatic wants to murder the FBI Task Force team that imprisoned her. There’s no way she would kill herself.” He glared at Derek, and Derek stared back at him. “Wait a minute. You think I had something to do with Sassy hanging herself?”

“Did you?” Derek’s body went rigid.

About the Author:

S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories but loves penning a good page-turning paranormal or supernatural suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan. 

She writes Adult and NA paranormal, supernatural, suspense romance novels.

For a current listing of her book links, check her author or publisher homepage below. She’s listed as: Davis, S. Peters

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Thursday, May 12, 2022

Writing Advice with Diane Riis #WritingAdvice

Hi there!

I would first like to thank Paranormalists for having me on to guest blog. I am excited to write about something near and dear to my heart: (spiritual/magical) author advice!

In the “real world” I’m a writer’s coach and I help people self-publish and market their books so I have a great appreciation for bloggers who make room for us authors to share about our books and writing practices. So, thanks!


While I was writing my latest book, Midnight Pages: A Mystical Workbook for Writers, Insomniacs and Night Owls I had the remarkable experience of completing it without a long stretch of feeling “blocked.” I bet that’s a trick that writers will be curious about.

This is actually the second book I have finished in ashort time without getting stuck for ages and contemplating condemning the project to the cauldron fire. Here are some tips for getting unstuck and unblocked.

First get out of the way

Writer’s block and feeling stuck when you look at the blank page are a “freeze” reaction. The simplest explanation is we’re scared of something.

It’s not we can’t think of anything to write or the words won’t come. It’s that our nervous system is saying YOU’RE NOT SAFE! We are evolutionarily conditioned to fight, flee, freeze or fawn in those circumstances. So, you get frozen in a writer’s block of ice.

Why am I afraid to write?

What’s so scary? Is it because we are putting ourselves out there on the page, which means getting seen? Are we afraid we will be judged for our writing (of course we will! So it’s not an unfounded fear!)

Whatever freezes you, here’s what you can do to get writing again:

1.    Remember that the stakes are low. Nobody is reading anything if you don’t want them to. Let there be no stakes at all. Lower your expectations. Do this by deleting whatever you write in your next session. Ouch. But it works and whatever you let go of, trust me, there’s more where that came from.

You are a co-creator with the Universe. You can create entire worlds if you let yourself. But not today. Today just type, then delete. Trust that there’s always more to come.

And the next time your computer goes black after you’ve been writing for two days without saving your work, say “Thank you.” That’s the Universe’s way of deleting and telling you, “nice try, start over.”

2.   Bypass the ego by letting your creativity, your inner wisdom, your Spirit Guide, avatar, or your Higher Self write through you. Imagine shifting about six inches off to the right of your computer keyboard and let your muse slip into your seat. Then, ask for help.

It’s really obvious but how often do we remember to consult our guides, guardians, ancestors and angels? Not often enough do we say, “Help me!” Sit and get still. Ask for help, then, type as fast as you can, even if you start by repeating a single sentence over and over.

In this practice you are channeling from everywhere but the brain. Use your gut, your intuition, imagination, spiritual guidance -- and leave your brain and its judgement out of the whole process. That spiritual part of you, the soul, heart, inner wisdom, higher self is ready to help if you can get out of the way. Where do you think your inspired book idea came from in the first place?

3.   Practice Griffonage. This is something I created based on free-writing where you write without censoring or stopping yourself for a set period of time or number of pages. Griffonage means “illegible scrawl” so the point here is not to use English.

Whatever comes is fine. If you can’t read it, even better. Eventually that illegible scrawl may become something more or might just prime the pump for your writing practice that day.

Go to War Against Resistance?

You know that writer’s block, feeling stuck and the Blank Page Syndrome are all forms of resistance. Last year I got a book on my birthday about how to fight Resistance. (It even got a capital “R”)! My writing class laughed when I held it up to show them. They know my philosophy.

Resistance isn’t the enemy, it’s the portal.

So, when it hurts or is hard, under that is where the good stuff is! Happy Writing…

An incantation for you:

I am operating under auspicious circumstances where magic flows, words come easily and actions of the past bear amazing fruit. Every decision I make is percussive and reverberates in wealth, rewards, benefits, blessings, boons, joy, bliss, creativity, success and unexpected ahas. And so it is!

Blessed be,

Diane Riis

Midnight Pages 
Mystical Inspiration and Writing Prompts for Writers, Insomniacs, and Night Owls 
Diane Riis 

Genre: Nonfiction, Self Help, Writing, Journal, Workbook 
Publisher: Earth and Soul Publishing
Date of Publication: Feb 2, 2022
ISBN: 9798985131000
Number of pages: 370
Word Count: 25,000

Cover Artist: Book Designer: Andrea Schmidt,

Tagline: The night has something to tell you.

Book Description: 

Midnight Pages is a workbook of magical prompts and creative writing exercises. It is also the antidote for anyone who has ever tried (and failed) to get up early to write morning pages. 

Embrace your nature! Whether you do your best work at night or you’re going through a bout of insomnia, you will deepen your writing practice and learn to listen to the voices of the night. 


WRITING PROMPT From Midnight Pages:

Close your eyes. What do you hear, smell, taste? What do you sense at an energetic or intuitive level? Spend some real time. Find at least twenty-five things. When it gets hard to add to the list is when it gets interesting…”



Vigilantia: lying awake, sleepless, vigilance. The silence and stillness of midnight might feel suffocating, dense, and thick—heavy with foreboding. It might have you lying in bed, heart pounding, afraid of the dark.

Under the cloak of night, your hearing is heightened. Sounds startle you awake as you drowse. Your mind can ramp up: haunting memories, recriminations, regrets, and stuck thoughts keep you from your rest. Some “insights come up as well and sensations: the surge of adrenaline, pricklings on your neck. You might feel the weight of the dark bearing down on you or you notice movement in the shadows. Maybe you have the sense you’re being watched. Something lurks in the dark that’s imperceptible during the day. You might feel like you are not alone, and that subtle presence over your shoulder seems familiar. You wonder if it’s been there before, maybe even always. During the day, with music blaring and people talking, you just don’t perceive it. Ask what message all this has in store for you. Don’t reject what you hear. Don’t dismiss. Allow.

Night belongs to the spirits. –Proverb

About the Author:

Diane Riis is author of five books and owner of Earth and Soul Coaching and Publishing which works with Indie authors, writers and magical practitioners who want more joy in their lives. She is a metaphysical minister and witch offering spiritual direction (which is a process of reflecting on your journey and learning to observe how you participate in your personal spiritual framework.) She offers writing coaching and classes as well as High Vibe, Soul Deep writing workshops and retreats for women who understand the power of the collective. Rev. Dr. Diane owns and operates a remnant flower farm on Long Island, NY all the while raising dogs, cats, chickens and a boy.