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Tuesday Teaser: Curious Incidents

Published August 8, 2017 by admin

So I haven’t been completely nonexistent during this past stretch of self-reflection. I’m way late on this, but hey, promo is promo, amiright? So one of the projects I had the challenge of working on is a paranormal Sherlock Holmes anthology called Curious Incidents: More Improbable Adventures.

 This was not the easiest story for me to write – I hadn’t read Sherlock since Jr. High, when I’d binged as much as possible during free time during homeroom, a trait that obviously made me insanely popular and all the cute dudes in my class fall at my feet. Obviously, I had to be careful, because the pure power in that knowledge is obviously very potent, so I kept it locked away for a long time.

And if you’re new to this blog, welcome to the sarcastic portion of the evening.

Anywho, I’ve seen the show, but was warned against doing anything too close to that. Besides, these were alternate universe adventures – put Sherlock and Watson in another time period, place, get them out of the comfort zone, anything but Victorian England, please!

And because I am an editor’s nightmare, I put Sherlock on a futuristic space station after the end of planet earth, and just to be a brat I added in a lot of Victorian England via holodecks.

Also, Sherlock is an AI. Kinda. And there’s a new medic character named Jane that has her own mystery to solve. And a monster shows up murdering people in the holodeck nightclubs because it’s me, so of course it does.

So it’s out and there are a lot of fantastic authors in this one. It’s gotten some great reviews, and I’m admittedly pretty proud of my contribution, which is titled Reborn.  And because I love you all and don’t feel like thinking up original content, here’s an excerpt:

curious incidents

The halls of the space station Reborn were pristine and bright, a maze of metal and plastic sterility. They were in sharp contrast to the illusion gardens in the various sectors, of which Clapham was one. Though it was late, enough people were still enjoying the night’s entertainment. The theme was Old England, so couples enjoyed quaint hologram theater shows and others, like Lucy Scaleton and Alsop Addison, soaked up the unusual experience of walking nighttime streets.

“Let’s move away from the urchins. I know they make things realistic, but they’re creepy,” Lucy murmured. “We need to find the exit before things shut down and the security mechs scan for the night.”

Alsop nodded and they increased their pace. “I’m almost glad we don’t have to deal with streets. The hall layouts are much simpler.” She hissed when her foot brushed through the long skirt, sending ripples through the false image that revealed her jumpsuit underneath. “Clothes today are easier, too.”

“It’s all so realistic, though. Especially with all the scents and sounds piped in, never mind the temp changes. Holo-tech has come such a long way.” Lucy took hold of her friend’s arm with a sheepish expression. “I know we’re safe, but…”

“Let’s get home before they turn everything off for the night and ruin the fun!” Alsop tugged her down an alley. “I think this shortcuts to the exit.” She trailed frowned when they hit a dead end.

“Al—”

“I could’ve sworn this was an exit.”

“’Scuse me, miss, but spare a quid on a cold night?”

The pair jumped, then shared an exasperated look. Alsop turned to address the fellow behind them, tossing her blonde curls. “Stupid programming,” she grumbled before addressing the image. “It’s late and we need to get home.” The looming form didn’t budge or disappear. “Hey, I mean it. Bugger off or we’ll just go through you!” The shadowed gentleman’s shoulders bobbed in a silent laugh.

“This isn’t Jack the Ripper night, is it?” Lucy whispered, hand clenched tight on her friend’s arm.

“Don’t be silly. It can’t hurt you. It’s just another damn hologram!” Alsop snapped and strode right into the moving shadow.

Silver flashed and rippled. The blonde jerked with the impact, her holo-costume fading away to reveal her slashed jumpsuit. She stared at the ripped fabric, dumbfounded. “What on earth?” The concept of actual danger was so foreign. Instinctively, still expecting the shadowed mass to dissolve into static and code, she struck at it and felt her stomach drop when it touched real fabric and something warm underneath.

The looming figure that was now too real, too threatening, too substantial pounced again. The shadowed figure grabbed the blonde and silver lashed out, sending crimson spraying right through the false images of the ancient London alleyway, spattering the metal projection walls underneath. The holograms couldn’t fully form with the intrusion, making the length of the alley a flickering, macabre trap. Alsop’s painful scream tore through the nighttime sounds and distant music.

Her friend screamed with her, the sound shrill and useless against the assailant. “No, no! Let her go, this isn’t supposed to happen! Security!” Lucy panicked as she struggled with her the other girl’s falling body, frantically looking for the cameras and police units. Unhindered, the thing shoved Alsop away. The gasping blonde fell back into her friend, sending them both to the floor, revealing metal underneath the cobblestones. Cold laughter prompted them to look up and when they did, the alley was nothing but screams and blue fire.

***

Want to find out more? How about stories where Sherlock and Watson deal with vampires or find themselves in other time periods? You can find all of that in Curious Incidents, available here on kindle or here in print!

Excerpt: Holly and Ivy (a holiday faerie story)

Published December 23, 2014 by admin

I thought I’d include another little bit of Holly and Ivy…this bit is closer to Christmas, and shows how Holly’s luck begins to turn around (as she forgets the other part of the bargain and the price that might be paid).

***

Whether it was because of Ivy’s gift or the upturn in my mood, things
happened quickly after that. I found a pleasant job at a florist shop and rented a small
house closer to town so I could cut down on the commute and be less of a strain on the
folks. I visited and came to the pine trees as often as I could, but was careful to never
explain to Ivy about the new job. I was close to nature, but not in a way she would
have understood or liked.

As the weeks passed I found more excuses to stay away. My anal-retentive
capabilities were needed to revamp the inventory at work, I was trying to get moved
in and truly settled, and I was actually making an effort to get out and enjoy my life.
The running around with Ivy and the summer work on the farm had begun to slim
and streamline my body. I was still getting used to the looks my curves would get
every once in a while. That slow infusion of confidence convinced me to take a little
more pride in the rest of my appearance, which only served to make things just a little
easier. My coworkers were not taking no for an answer, so I found myself hanging out
in the evenings with people my own age instead of stopping by my folks’ place after
work. Instead of dreading those social interactions, I began to look forward to
conversation with friends who were going through the same frustrations and
heartaches I was. It was almost like we were all starting to come out on the other side.
Ivy was lovely, but the more I was subjected to adult conversation the more I realized
how much I’d missed it.
Leaves turned and the time for pumpkins came and passed into chillier
temperatures, turkey decorations on store windows, and holiday specials on
television. I was so busy with extended hours at work and trying to keep up with all
the extra chores that came with Christmas, that my parents had insisted I not even
think about trying to help them out with their own holiday ventures. As sad as I was
to not jump back into the post-Thanksgiving traditions during my first winter back
home, I was exhausted and grateful for the out.
Despite the full schedule, life was good. I knew very well who I owed that to,
but I was still uncomfortable admitting that all my good fortune was because of a
trinket and not my own efforts. I kept telling myself I had to go down to the farm and
make sure Ivy was safe for the winter, but it kept getting shoved to the bottom of my
to-do list. Besides, we’d made sure her new tree was at the very back of the lot. She
was sure to be okay if I put it off for a few days. Everything was falling into place so
easily: the house, the job, and when I literally bumped into my future husband while
rushing to my car after work one night…well, it’s easy to forget promises when your
life is full.
As much as I’d refused to believe in love at first sight, there’s no way to deny
the instant jolt I felt when I looked up into his green eyes, and I’m fairly sure that
wasn’t just because I’d plowed into him while trying to get out the door before the
next wave of orders came in. Tall and muscular, he brought to mind the old-school
romantic images of court knights, if a knight had to go questing for a Christmas
wreath in a parka and blue jeans. Vixen that I was, I reverted to my standard flirting
technique for attractive men I came across in daily life: I mumbled an apology and ran
away. For once, though, someone called my bluff.
“C’mon! The coat’s not that ugly!” His deep voice was full of humor and a hint
of self-deprecation.
I turned and glanced from him to my waiting clunker. As much as I wanted to
reply with something coy and witty, the cold air had frozen my tongue to the roof of
my mouth. “I…”
“You work here, right? I’ve seen you around before.” His friendly attempt at
conversation did nothing to stop my heart from trying to slam itself out of my chest.
I’d expected the same old reaction: for him to shrug and go on about his business. For
a minute it seemed that was exactly his plan of action, and then he turned back to call
after me as I shuffled down the snow-crusted sidewalk to my car. “I bet I know what
happened. Either you’re tongue’s frozen or you bit your tongue when I accidentally
body-checked you. How ’bout I get you a cup of coffee to make up for it?” His pine
green eyes sparkled hopefully under the ragtag fringe of auburn hair that jutted out
from under his beanie.

Despite my sudden shyness, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t you need to get

something?” I asked and nodded toward the door I’d just exited.

The lumpy shoulders of his black coat moved up and down in a shrug.

“They’re extending their hours and you’re leaving for the day, right?” I nodded.

“Then the choice is obvious. Maybe later you can help me pick out a wreath that’ll
work for my shop’s door,” he added and pointed to the candy store across the street.
Cute, funny, and worked with chocolate…I was definitely a goner right from our first
impromptu date.

David was stable and motivated, while remaining small-town. He got the world
I came from and what I’d been through. He weathered my mood swings like a trooper
and always seemed to know when I needed him there with me. As cautious as I was
when we first started to see each other, I soon fell for his gentle nature and firm,
capable way of handling things. There were times he seemed to know exactly what I
needed from him. Maybe I just wanted to be with someone, but David felt right in a
way that Rob hadn’t. It was like he was an exact match for me, like he was heaven-sent
or delivered by a wishing star. He wasn’t put off by my situation or by the fact that I
was from a farming family. An avid hiker, he liked the fact that I’d grown up on the
land and appreciated nature.

My parents and friends were pleased, and if I’d had time to go talk to Ivy she
would have been ecstatic, I’m sure. It was proof that her magic talisman worked just
as well in human hands as it did for the Fair Folk. I didn’t know about that, but I also
didn’t take it out of the fireproof lock-box I’d hidden it in.

HollyAndIvy72dpi (1)

Amazon     Barnes and Noble   Mocha Memoirs Press Store

 holiday/fantasy

After losing her job and her boyfriend, Holly returns to her parents’ farm. Embarrassed and hopeless, she doesn’t expect to bump into a forgotten childhood friend that wasn’t supposed to exist. Ivy is not only a dryad, but she lives in the pine trees Holly’s family grows to sell at Christmas. As the old friends reconnect, Ivy not only shares her strong oninions, but gives Holly a charm that will change both their lives. As days melt into weeks and the seasons change, Holly’s life magically turns around. Christmas not only brings surprises, but a choice for the human woman. What’s more important: stability, success, and love, or keepinga promise to an old friend?

Holly and Ivy

Published December 6, 2014 by admin

So I do enjoy holiday fiction. I love reading it and I might, just MIGHT have a soft spot for Christmas chick lit and romances (Shut up. It’s December stress). I also love writing holiday fiction. Now, some of this can get…fascinating, especially the pieces that are in Lost in the Shadows. Candles is a story about a makeshift family surviving the zombie apocalypse and trying to stay sane while keeping Christmas Eve traditions alive. There’s also a story about reincarnation and astral travel that may involve the little drummer boy.

Compared to those, Holly and Ivy is pretty tame and normal. I actually got the idea from a writing prompt exercise in like August, though it’s also based on one of my favorite holiday songs and probably owes a little to Hans Christian Andersen in a really backwards way. The story took hold and wouldn’t let me go, though, and soon I had something unique (for me) and special. Not only does it incorporate the holiday feel I love to read about, but it also doesn’t shy away from the fact that sometimes unfortunate things happen during the holiday season. Some people are cynical or burnt out or whatever. Sometimes you need a little kick in the pants, a little magic to help you out.

Sometimes you need a friend who’s a dryad.

When Holly’s life falls apart, she moves back with her parents and has to fight through fear and lack of motivation. When she takes a walk out to the Christmas tree farm her family owns, she’s suddenly shoved face to face with the imaginary friend that isn’t so imaginary – the dryad Ivy. While Holly’s grown up and been burned by life, Ivy remains innocent and eager to cast humans in the role of ignorant murderers. Even she is concerned about her human friend, though, and offers Holly a trinket that could change everything for the thirty-something…but it will change the dryad’s own future, as well.

***

“What do I do with it?” I asked. I told myself I was just playing along, suspending reality to make Ivy feel better. Although if that was the case then perhaps I should have really examined the fact that Ivy was real and not me suspending reality to make myself feel better.

“You hold it now until it gets to know you. You keep it safe in your possession and it shall bring you ease and grace,” the tree sprite giggled.

“And that really works?” No matter how I tried I couldn’t hide my skepticism.

She turned up her pointed nose. “How else would I have survived so well with murderers on the loose? It’s worked for a good long while.” I raised an eyebrow as a sly grin spread just a little too far across her face to make the smile look human. “Do you remember when I snuck to school with that sapling you took for show and tell?”

The next smile didn’t hurt quite as much as I traced the delicate edge of the tiny plant with the pad of a finger. The petaled head shivered and softly brushed against my calluses.  “I thought everyone was going to have a heart attack when you burst out of the thing and started singing to everyone! Mrs. Robinson finally played it off as the whole class playing a trick on her. We had to go without milk time for a week.” I’d gotten in so much trouble with my parents for lying in school and saying that I had a magic plant. Given that I was adamant that I’d been telling the truth, it was a hell of an ordeal for a six-year-old.

“’Twas so much fun!” Ivy paused mid-pirouette. It was downright disgusting that she could hold the arabesque for so long and not even wobble or suffer a leg cramp. “Though I would not want to live in such cold halls all the time.” She paused and took a long breath, much longer than I or any other human could possibly inhale. Before my eyes her skin became greener, infused by the crisp clean air. “You need to be in the trees, Holly. Mortals refuse to understand that they must live where things grow. Now that you’re home, let’s play!” She leapt over my head and landed effortlessly beside her home tree, staring at me expectantly.

Maybe it was being back home or maybe it was just being back in the good fresh air, but her suggestion made me giddy. It suddenly sounded like the exact prescription I needed, the one thing I’d been missing through all those frustrating years. My fragile mind and heart demanded an escape. They couldn’t take any more disappointment, any more expectations or responsibility, and they especially couldn’t take any more reality. I nodded and tucked the strange clover deep in my pocket. The breeze had dried my tears and the heavenly scent of grass and pine put the sudden urge to run in my feet. Suddenly the heavy air and the blazing sun didn’t matter so much and my anxieties were willing to take a momentary backseat to the chance to goof off for an afternoon.  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I hesitated, hand still at my pocket.

Ivy flashed a bold grin and stretched up on her toes; her fingers wiggled over her head, making her resemble an odd, scrawny plant. “With you here? Of course! Just remember to come look after my tree when the murderers come around the winter harvest time. You can even help me choose which tree will be my final home so you’ll know where I’ll be.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth when she tore off, dodging branches and bark as quick and swift as a deer. I groaned as I pulled myself to my feet and tumbled after her, muscles screaming at the sudden exercise. Still, I found myself laughing the entire time

HollyAndIvy72dpi (1)

Amazon     Barnes and Noble   Mocha Memoirs Press Store

After losing her job and her boyfriend, Holly returns to her parents’ farm. Embarrassed and hopeless, she doesn’t expect to bump into a forgotten childhood friend that wasn’t supposed to exist. Ivy is not only a dryad, but she lives in the pine trees Holly’s family grows to sell at Christmas. As the old friends reconnect, Ivy not only shares her strong oninions, but gives Holly a charm that will change both their lives. As days melt into weeks and the seasons change, Holly’s life magically turns around. Christmas not only brings surprises, but a choice for the human woman. What’s more important: stability, success, and love, or keepinga promise to an old friend?

 

Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2014: Shawn Cesser

Published November 3, 2014 by admin

 

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So I missed a Halloween post, but that doesn’t mean that winter isn’t a fun time for horror – especially zombies. I’m really exited to be part of the Winter of Zombie blog tour, and even more excited to hear all about Shawn Cesser’s latest title. This is definitely one I’ll be checking out, and you should too! Let’s get to it and talk to Shawn about zombies and Warpath!

 

***

Why zombies?

SC: When I turned twelve my mom allowed me to rent George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead and the original Dawn of the Dead on Beta or VHS … I can’t remember which. While eating Doritos and downing Cokes I watched them back-to-back, with a couple of buddies, and have been a fan of the genre ever since.

 

What is your latest zombie release?

SC: ‘Warpath: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse’ was published on 6/28/2014. 

 

warpath front cover NEW

 

Quick description of it.

SC: Warpath is a 130,000 word post-apocalyptic thriller set in a thoroughly devastated United States. The fast paced romp through the western states features not only hard-charging soldiers in camouflage and body armor taking the fight to their living and undead enemies, but also regular citizens doing their best to survive the zombie apocalypse.Thrown into the mix are strong female characters, a group of younger survivors, and a host of human baddies my readers love to hate.

 

Something unique about it. 

SC: Warpath, and my STZA series in general, appeals to readers of all stripes because it combines a military themed post apocalyptic romp across America featuring stealth helicopters and exotic weaponry with an intertwined and ongoing story arc about a group of civilian preppers who are also struggling to survive the zombie apocalypse. My characters come from all walks of life and I’ve noticed that many of my readers seem to have their own favorites who they identify with. But sadly not everyone survives my zombie apocalypse—a reality that has earned me an earful from some of those same readers. 

Links for people to buy it: 

 

 Warpath: Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse Amazon link

 Warpath Apple iBooks link

 Warpath Barnes and Noble Nook link

 Warpath Smashwords link

 Your promo links.

  FB Author Page

 FB Page

 Amazon Author Page

 ShawnChesser.com

Twitter handle: @sdchess

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Shawn Chesser, a practicing father, has been a zombie fanatic for decades. He likes his creatures shambling, trudging and moaning. As for fast, agile, screaming specimens… not so much. He lives in Portland, Oregon, with his wife, two kids and three fish.

 

 

 Info for Winter of Zombie Blog Tour:

The stench of frozen rotted meat is in the air! Welcome to the Winter of Zombie Blog Tour 2014, with 10 of the best zombie authors spreading the disease in the month of November.

Stop by the event page on Facebook so you don’t miss an interview, guest post or teaser… and pick up some great swag as well! Giveaways galore from most of the authors as well as interaction with them! #WinterZombie2014

https://www.facebook.com/events/1524813084430035/?ref_notif_type=plan_user_joined&source=1

AND so you don’t miss any of the posts in November, here’s the complete list, updated daily:

http://armandrosamilia.com/2014/11/01/winter-of-zombie-post-list-winterzombie2014/

Book tour: Death’s Dance by Crymsyn Hart

Published August 21, 2014 by admin

CrymsynHartTourBadge

 

It’s tour time! I’m stoked to have my pal Crymsyn Hart on my blog with her latest book, Death’s Dance! We’ll hear from her in a moment, but first let’s check out the title – c’mon, you know how things work round these parts by now!

DeathsDance1200X800

 

Amazon           Barnes & Noble          Kobo

Being a psychic, you would think talking to the dead was a walk in the park. However, it’s not always that simple. The hooded specter haunting me is one I’ve been dreaming about since I was a kid. One day, he appeared in my bedroom mirror. Good. Evil. I don’t know what his true intentions are.

Enter Jackson, ghost hunting show host extraordinaire, and my ex, to save me from the big bad ghost.

From there…well…it’s been a world wind of complications. My house burnt down. I’m being stalked by an ancient evil and gotten myself back into the world of being a ghost hunting psychic. Jackson dragged me, along with a few other psychics, to a ghost town wiped off the map called Death’s Dance.

From there things went from bad to worse.

***

Top Ten Versions of Death

                Death comes in many forms. And it is hard to narrow down the personifications of death into ten different things. Since Death comes in different mediums I’m going to list my top ten in movies, books, and in art. I’ve come across many different paintings and artwork that to me show what death would look like. I don’t view Death as a scary thing, but as a helper even if his visage might be frightening. You’re probably going to think I’m macabre, but I’m not. I just have an affinity for grim reapers.

 

  1. The Golem of Azrael by Leliah Wendell
  2. Azrael by Joseph Vargo
  3. My Soul to Reap posted by Emma
  4. Kiss of Death Statue at the Old Graveyard of Poblenou in Barcelona
  5. Death from the Final Destination movies
  6. The Gift by Leliah Wendell
  7. Shadows by Joseph Vargo
  8. On A Pale Horse by Piers Anthony
  9. Azriel – The Angel of Death by Ruth Thompson
  10. Cat Magic by Whitley Strieber

CrymsynHart

Crymsyn is a National Bestselling author of over seventy paranormal romance and horror novels. Her experiences as a psychic have given her a lot of material to use in her books. She currently resides in Charlotte, NC with her hubby and her three dogs. If she’s not writing, she’s curled up with the dogs watching a good horror movie or off with friends.

 To find out more about Crymsyn:

 Website: http://www.ravynhart.com

Twitter: @crymsynhart

Blog: http://www.crymsynhart.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/crymsynhart

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Crymsyn-Hart/e/B002BMJ1Z0/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1405515745&sr=8-1

Newsletter Sign Up

 

 

TCM Presents: Haunting Blue by RJ Sullivan

Published July 17, 2014 by admin

HauntingBlueTourBadge

 

 

Woo, blog tour time! Let’s hear it this week for Mr. RJ Sullivan and his book Haunting Blue!

 

HauntingBlue_Cover

Kindle     Print

Punk, blue-haired “Blue” Shaefer, is at odds with her workaholic single mother. Raised as a city girl in a suburb of Indianapolis, Blue must abandon the life she knows when her unfeeling mother moves them to a dreadful small town. Blue befriends the only student willing to talk to her: computer nerd “Chip” Farren.

Chip knows the connection between the rickety pirate boat ride at the local amusement park and the missing money from an infamous bank heist the townspeople still talk about. When Blue helps him recover the treasure, they awaken a vengeful ghost who’ll stop at nothing–not even murder–to prevent them from exposing the truth behind his evil deeds.

Haunting Blue is Book One of the Adventures of Blue Shaefer

***

And now, a post by RJ that I may have had a facetious hand in <g> Although I admit to nothing that I am implicated in in regards to convention discussions or behavior, heh……

***

Just Don’t Bore Me

 

So Selah and I are friends, storytellers, and writer peers. We’re occasionally found at conventions together cackling over a nerdy joke or dirty joke–usually a dirty nerdy joke. Monday evening she private-message-ed me and asked if she had assigned me a topic. She had not. She replied, in part, “Just don’t bore me.”

Which got me thinking about how those words are the mantra of every audience, and the challenge of every storyteller, since before the invention of the printing press. The only thing that’s changed is how the storyteller meets that challenge.

Boredom is the death of any storyteller. A writer can be provocative, edgy, safe for all ages, retro, whimsical, dark, funny, depressing, ironic, and even get away with being ignorant, offensive, sexist, crude, and politically incorrect (we’ve all read those blogs…yes, you have, too), but the one thing they cannot EVER be is boring.

I have a theory. I doubt it’s just mine, but since I don’t know exactly where I first heard it, I’ll throw it out there without attribution. There’s a simple reason classic literature so often fails to hold a modern reader spellbound, even books that were hugely popular when they came out.

Personally, it took me about eight false starts and most of my life to finally read Bram Stoker’s Dracula from beginning to end. And I consider myself a pretty rabid Dracula guy. I’ve seen all the significant the films (even that painful new TV show already slain with a stake in its heart, and good riddance), know the plays, and own most of the movies. But the original novel was…a chore.

A little research reveals that Dracula, when it was first published in 1897, was thought of as a naughty little book–a phenomenal bestseller whose public reception in modern times would compare more accurately to 50 Shades of Gray rather than a more respectable bestseller such as The Fault in Our Stars.

Many modern readers feel–with some justification–that the material fails to engage them, and they put the book down , frustrated and bored, many unwilling to give the novel a second chance.  By today’s standards, it’s slow, clunky, with lots of historical minutiae, descriptions of mansions, gardens, walls, beaches, and the British seaside, and spends a lot of time with two ditzy women who babble on about their fiancés and knitting and tea and things.

So what happened?

Dracula was first released in England. The 1890s were, to put it frankly, a time when ladylike outward appearances and social ediquette were the law of the land, and Britain was the place that invented those laws and enforced them most strictly in all occasions. It was also the time of the industrial revolution, and new thinking and mores were starting to clash with traditions.

Dracula told the tale of a group of modern people, those who were achieving modern economic prosperity through modern careers, options achievable to many readers and romanticized about. Consider references to Van Helsing and his Victrolla, the earliest form of voice recording device, modern cars are used to chase horses and carriages, ancient magic and sorcery does battle with an early form of psychology.

Dracula included scenes of a vampire lord and his three vampire brides, women who he commanded, who then in turn, seek out a male victim. In a striking scene in which a skeptical reader suspects the man doeth protest too much, the three brides drop to their knees and “penetrate” him with their fangs. Premarital kinky oral with four participants. There’s not much to figure out here. In the meantime, the vampire lord is busy every few chapters arriving uninvited through various women’s bedrooms, where those victims submit to the same “unnatural” attacks, sometimes with only the most surface protest.

To a modern reader and vampire fan who has seen and read every media re-enactment of the vampire orgy in all its graphic glory, these quaint little moments are mostly read over, unnoticed. But in its day, Dracula was the book that “no one was reading” to the tune of millions of copies sold, and “no one” most likely read the novel by candlelight after everyone else in the house had gone to sleep.

Which brings us to today, where the modern reader peruses the latest releases by today’s authors, readers who have seen and read it all. Readers who utter the same mantra as all readers throughout the ages: “Just don’t bore me.”

The next time you’re reading a truly engaging novel, remember to leave a review or an email of thanks to that author. Tell your friends about that author. Tell them you found a storyteller who answered the challenge and answered it well.

Whether it’s Bram Stoker or Arthur Conan Doyle or Edgar Allan Poe or (if I may make a few recommendations) Selah Janel or even little ole’ me, R.J. Sullivan, storytellers have been answering the same call for as long as an audience has longed to hear a story. How they go about it may have changed, but the challenge remains the same. “Just don’t bore me.”

 ***

 I wholeheartedly approve of this post, and I really like what he brings up about Dracula. Thanks, RJ!

RJSullivanPhoto

 

Punk, blue-haired “Blue” Shaefer, is at odds with her workaholic single mother. Raised as a city girl in a suburb of Indianapolis, Blue must abandon the life she knows when her unfeeling mother moves them to a dreadful small town. Blue befriends the only student willing to talk to her: computer nerd “Chip” Farren.

Chip knows the connection between the rickety pirate boat ride at the local amusement park and the missing money from an infamous bank heist the townspeople still talk about. When Blue helps him recover the treasure, they awaken a vengeful ghost who’ll stop at nothing–not even murder–to prevent them from exposing the truth behind his evil deeds.

Haunting Blue is Book One of the Adventures of Blue Shaefer

 

Author Links:

Website: http://rjsullivanfiction.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/R.J.SullivanAuthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5199299.R_J_Sullivan

Twitter: https://twitter.com/rjsullivanauthr

 

 

It’s the MMP Anniversary Sale!

Published July 13, 2014 by admin

Looking for some e-books to fill your Kindle or Nook? Want to stock up on romance and select horror and holiday titles? Want to be considered for some great giveaways? Then look no further! Mocha Memoirs Press has got you covered!

For information on the giveaway (which includes select horror and romance titles, as well as swag), and select sales on parts of the catalog, be sure to check out this mmp blog link!

 

For information on the sale on speculative titles, check out this link!

 

Now  Mooner and The Other Man are MMP titles, but my story, Holly and Ivy, is on sale for $0.99 as part of the Christmas in July sale! Check it out now to beat the heat, or save it for December!

HollyAndIvy72dpi (1)

Amazon     Barnes and Noble   Mocha Memoirs Press Store

After losing her job and her boyfriend, Holly returns to her parents’ farm. Embarrassed and hopeless, she doesn’t expect to bump into a forgotten childhood friend that wasn’t supposed to exist. Ivy is not only a dryad, but she lives in the pine trees Holly’s family grows to sell at Christmas. As the old friends reconnect, Ivy not only shares her strong oninions, but gives Holly a charm that will change both their lives. As days melt into weeks and the seasons change, Holly’s life magically turns around. Christmas not only brings surprises, but a choice for the human woman. What’s more important: stability, success, and love, or keepinga promise to an old friend?