Another Random Excerpt - "Uninvited"

Like most published authors, I have a few old, unpublished manuscripts under the bed (technically, they're on my hard drive, but the point is, they were never published). One of them, called UNINVITED, is a modern day ghost story about a young woman fleeing an abusive husband, who moves into a house that turns out to be the scene of a murder/suicide, and haunted by two different ghosts, both the murderer and the victim (ooo, spooky!). And just so you know, this is based on a true story, which I've mentioned on my blog before. So here's a scene from UNINVITED, in which the heroine has called in a paranormal investigations team (4 guys and a psychic) to help her figure out what's going on:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lights on the electromagnetic field detector flashed bright green, then red. Dave stopped, fiddling with the dials. “Baseline reading was .4mG. I’m getting spikes up to .9, and down to .3.” He spoke for the benefit of the video camera as much as ours.

“He was surprised.” The psychic, Maureen, came up behind me. Her soft statement had an otherworldly tone to it, bringing us back from the safe world of science. “He didn’t think she’d do it.”

She moved down the hallway, Dave and Steve making way while keeping their eyes on their instruments. At my bedroom door, she stopped, then turned, searching the air around her.

“Is the EVP recorder on?” Steve’s sharply hissed question betrayed his excitement.

Maureen ignored him as she addressed herself to the shadows. “Spirit, tell us why you linger.” Her voice was like honey, soothing and full of ease. She lured an answer from the air as though inviting confidences from her best friend. Closing her eyes, she swayed slightly, her rosary clutched in both hands. Even in the dimness I could see her fingers moving on the beads.

Utter silence, save for whatever Maureen might hear. I felt nothing this time... saw and heard nothing. Somehow I knew that Parker was drawn to Maureen instead of me, concentrating his ethereal efforts on someone whose earthly spirit reached out to him, a potent lure for a phantom forever trapped in a hell of his own making. A chance to communicate with the world of the living again, however briefly.

“Guilt, and remorse.” Maureen opened her eyes. “He feels very badly about something -- no, someone. He feels very badly about someone, but I don’t know who.” Surprisingly, she smiled. “He likes you, though, " she said to me. "Your aura’s just brightened.”

Sure enough, I felt a whisp of ice on my cheek. I shrank against Adam and stayed there, avoiding the sweeps of Dave’s metered amplifier.

“Another big spike here,” he said, for benefit of the camera. “.9 and fluctuating.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about this gentleman. He isn’t out to do anyone any harm.” Maureen’s grin turned decidedly naughty. “But I get a very clear impression that he likes the ladies... Jody, in particular.” Apparently unconcerned, Maureen turned and entered my bedroom.

I righted myself, determined not to be afraid of a flirtatious ghost. Since I’d seen him at the séance, I’d felt no menace from Parker. He was in death what he’d probably been in life, an ineffectual shadow of a man – reduced to peeping through the mist at the physical world he no longer had access to.

Parker wasn’t the reason I was here tonight. Holly Townsend and her overwhelming anger - her tortured, unquiet soul was why I was here.

I wanted to set her free. To prove to myself that no one person can so influence your life that you’re driven to acts that forever doom you to an even more hellish existence.

Imagine -- living out eternity in the house of the lover you killed, doomed to feel all that turmoil and jealousy over and over and over again – driven insane by the knowledge that you’ve killed a person you once loved, and lost everyone you ever loved in the bargain. Crazy as a loon, and dead to boot.

Giving Adam’s hand a squeeze, I let go of him to follow Maureen into the room. She was standing at the head of my bed, looking toward the window. As I watched, she staggered, catching herself with a hand against the wall.

“Oh, there’s terrible grief here.” Maureen shook her head, steadier now. She trailed her fingers over the wall, moving slowly toward the closet. “Sadness,” she whispered.

Next to my dresser, she stopped, and put up a hand, signaling the rest of us. “Wait there, please.”

I stood in the doorway, Adam at my shoulder. I could hear Jim’s camera equipment humming as he hoisted it higher, keeping it trained on Maureen.

She closed her eyes and stood in the quiet darkness, listening. Crossed her arms, she hugged herself as though cold. “Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you.” Anyone hearing Maureen would have thought she spoke to a frightened animal or a small child. “We’re here to help."

Her breath was indrawn on a hiss, and as she let it out, she spoke more urgently, this time to the humans in the room. “She doesn’t like us being here.”

No one questioned the pronoun usage, accepting the switch from ‘he’ to ‘she’ without question, for the feel in the room was very different from the earlier encounter.

And then, though I willed it not to be so, I saw the first dark coils of shadow moving in a far corner. I was frozen with fear, for the black tendrils oozed up the wall, spreading like a stain in the gloom.

Incubus Rising (Part 2) - An Original Short

Incubus Rising (Part 2)
by Terri Garey^©

**WARNING: SUGGESTIVE THEMES, EXPLICIT NAUGHTINESS, AND IF YOU'RE UNDER 18, YOU NEED A SPANKING FOR READING THINGS YOU SHOULDN'T. GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK. I MEAN IT!!**

(Incubus Rising is an original work of erotic fiction by Terri Garey, written for my entertainment, and yours. An incubus, according to legend, is a male spirit who comes to women in their dreams, inciting them to all sorts of lascivious behavior, both awake and asleep. Good thing we no longer live in the age of the Inquisition, where you could be burned at the stake for having erotic dreams, isn't it? This is a snippet from the story of Ash, a demon of desire, and so we begin...)

~~~~~~~~~

This one was dark, as dark as her dreams. Lashes black as soot lay against delicate cheekbones, hair a spill of ebony against the creamy whiteness of linen sheets. Should they open, her eyes would likely rival the night with their mystery and depth. At least, I would wish them so.

I leaned in and brushed her lips with mine. My tongue slipped within to sample the softness of her own, savoring the taste of loneliness, of tears - the emotions that had drawn me to her from the darkness.

She had not stirred with my kisses, but that would soon change. I dipped into her thoughts as easily as her lips, and let the essence of her dreams overtake us both.

Her breasts were beneath my hands, warm mounds topped with ripe raspberries, though they needed no such sweetness. Her belly was flat and taut, tapering to a veed valley of black curls, the pale folds of her womanhood peeping coyly from the brambles of desire. Round was her bottom and curved were her hips, smooth skin smelling of pampering and flowers.

I was lost to her, and lost in the newness of my lust. It would wane, as it always did, but for now it was all.

She stirred beneath my hands, arching against my hardness. A gasp escaped her, but that was all the quarter I would give, capturing the next within my mouth as I settled myself between her thighs, sighing with satisfaction as she spread them for me. I drove myself home, unwilling to prolong the moment, and it was then I realized -as always - that I was not the conqueror, but the conquered.

She kissed me back, a willing participant in our pleasure. I drank deep of her softness, letting her tongue war with mine as I possessed her femininity, deeply and fully. I held myself still within her, letting her lead the way, feeling the ripples that moved within her warm depths. Her nipples were hard, rising to my lips. She welcomed me even deeper into her warmth, whimpering her need as she tossed her head against the pillow. Her arms came around me, her hands kneading my shoulders, her palms soft against my skin.

I let her dream pull me even deeper into our mutual yearnings, beginning the thrusting that would give her what she needed. Her legs came hard around me, trapping me in place as I drove home again and again, reveling in her unrestrained heat. Beneath me, she writhed and gasped her pleasure, dampening my shaft with the dewy offerings of her body.

While I... I burned, stiff with a need that could never be eased.

Confucious say...

If you're in a bookstore, and you can't find my books, then you are in the:

The Truth About The Writing Process

A Darker Shade of Disney: Tim Burton's Alice In Wonderland

I knew that Tim Burton's version of Alice In Wonderland was going to be a darker and more twisted version of Disney's original 1951 cartoon, but I had no idea how far down the rabbit hole they'd gone until I read an article in the Wall Street Journal this morning, entitled "Disney Invites 'Goths' to the Party". Hmm...

Then I read that the movie soundtrack featured Robert Smith, lead singer of the Cure, and contained songs by modern artists like Shinedown, Tokio Hotel, Wolfmother, and Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, and immediately went to see if I could find a sampling online. I did, and you can listen to the soundtrack here on a really cool site called Almost Alice.

Disney has not only aimed this movie at the 18-34 female crowd (as opposed to the 6-11 girly princess crowd), they've entered into a marketing partnership with that good old American Gothic subculture store, Hot Topic. (In fact, if you live anywhere near Hollywood and are a Johnny Depp fan, today would be a good day to head over to the Hollywood Mall, where Disney and Hot Topic are hosting a massive event where Johnny and other cast members will be mingling with fans, and some of the bands featured on the soundtrack will be playing live.) T-shirts, hats and jewelry, all taking over prime display space previously held by promotional merchandise for "Twilight" fans. (Move over, Edward!)

What's even more interesting is the creation of a brand-new line of Victorian-style frocks by designer Sue Wong, that will be sold in high end stores like Neiman marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue. Can you say gorgeous?

All in all, I applaud Disney for taking a step closer to the dark side with Tim Burton's vision, and though I have no idea whether I'll be buying any merchandise, I can't WAIT to see the movie! Watch this trailer for a trip into the dark world that awaits Alice:

LRC's Best of 2009 Awards

I just found out this morning that I've been nominated for TWO awards at Love Romances Cafe!

Silent Night, Haunted Night has been nominated for "Best Paranormal Book 2009", and I've been nominated as "Best Paranormal Author 2009" - woot!

This is an award that's voter based, so you guess it - I need your votes! (Why did the song "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" just pop into my head?) Voting instructions are below, but I've already gone and made it easier for you: JUST CLICK ON THE PINK AND RED "BEST OF 2009 NOMINEE BUTTON ABOVE, and it'll all be filled in for you!

In case that doesn't work for you, or if you'd prefer to do it yourself, here are the manual voting instructions: To vote, email Dawn Roberto at dawn_roberto@yahoo.com with your choices. Be sure to put "LRC's Best of 2009 Awards" in the subject line of the email. (This is important because anything else will get deleted.) In the body of the email, put:

Best Paranormal Book 2009:
Silent Night, Haunted Night (Terri Garey - Avon)

Best Paranormal Author 2009:
Terri Garey

Voting closes on Feb. 22nd. Thanks in advance for your help, and I'll let you know the results when they're announced next week!

The Wolfman

While perhaps not the most romantic movie to watch on Valentine's Day, I very much enjoyed seeing The Wolfman this weekend. The cinematography was beautiful, and the casting was excellent (if you can overlook the fact that Benecio del Toro is not the most verbal or the best-looking guy in the world, which makes him perfect for the Wolfman). I appreciated the fact that they took care to remain true to many of the original aspects of the story: a remote estate, a man troubled by mental illness affected by a curse beyond his power, a beautiful woman endangered by love, and even the gypsies (including Maleva, who knows all).

Then they threw in some added twists which I won't spoil here, but really worked (nobody does cold and crazy the way Anthony Hopkins does it, baby!), but they didn't get carried away with them, which would've ruined everything.

Even the excess blood, guts and entrails didn't bother me in the least, which is more than I can say for all the slasher/scream movies out there. The special effects were good, and the atmosphere was moody, somewhat grim, yet still beautiful.

All in all, I give it a 7 out of 10. It you go expecting a jaw-dropping, over-the-top experience, you're going to be disappointed. If you want to experience The Wolfman as it was perhaps meant to be when they made it originally, go see it.

What A Guy Wants For Valentine's Day

Valentine’s Day is such a girly holiday, isn't it? We women want (and expect) some visible token that our special guy is thinking about us: flowers, candy, a card. Doesn't have to be big, doesn't have to be expensive, just needs to be there.

Guys, on the other hand, have very low expectations of Valentine's Day (according to my husband, who claims most men's only goal on February 14th is to stay out of trouble by not forgetting it!). Getting lucky is a bonus. :-)

But what to get him? Here's a few inexpensive ideas for the man in your life to share the love on Valentine's Day, or any other day:

Is he a sports fan? How a hand-written IOU stating that during the next televised game he watches, you promise no interruptions of any kind and his favorite snacks on a tray beside the couch?

Does he work too hard? How about a Saturday or even just an evening when he can be completely alone – no kids, no yardwork, no dinner dishes, no honey-do list. You take the little darlings to the movies, to your sister’s, to the mall, or anywhere that gets all of you out of the house for a while.

Hobbies? A magazine subscription to Car & Driver, Runners World, Muscle & Fitness, Field & Stream or Sports Illustrated shows you’re paying attention to his interests, even if you don’t share them.

Does he cook? A new saucepan or a sharp set of knives isn’t out of line for the man who fancies himself a gourmet. If his skills are limited to the grill, a new set of outdoor grilling tools is probably well overdue.

A deep thinker? Can’t go wrong with a gift certificate to your neighborhood bookstore, and the promise of an uninterrupted few hours browsing to his heart’s content.

Dad of the Year? A special photograph of the kids – either taken by you or professionally done – nicely framed in a masculine style.

Does he like sweets? Who doesn’t? How about a freshly baked batch of chocolate chip cookies, or a bag of Hershey’s kisses to take to work?

Of course, if all else fails – never underestimate the old saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”. Cook the man something, and after dinner, who knows...

Just how special and romantic was that card he gave you?

Art, Like Beauty, Is In The Eye of The Beholder

Look at this painting - a bit macabre, wouldn't you say? It's called Skull with Burning Cigarette, and looks like it belongs on the front of a t-shirt. It would be perfect for use as someone's online avatar (if they're of a Gothic bent), or for say... showing up on someone's blog (if that someone leans toward the spooky.) :-)

I found it yesterday when I was doing some research on the book I'm working on, and was shocked to see it that it was done in 1886, by an artist I would never have expected: Vincent Van Gogh.

He did this one, too, which is much more distinctive, utilizing the vivid colors and frenetic brushwork that characterizes much of his general body of work, and is titled, simply, "Skull".

I actually prefer Skull with Burning Cigarette, because it shows a sense of humor I wouldn't have expected to find in someone like Van Gogh - he was evidently a very troubled individual who was extremely lacking in the sense of humor department. All those landscapes, all those still-lifes, a life marred by mental illness and an early death by suicide, four years after painting Skull with Burning Cigarette.

Perhaps he already knew what was coming, and wanted to view Death as a friend, not an enemy. (Yo, Death... can I borrow a ciggie?)

Anyway, I like it. Wouldn't hang it in my living room, but I like it.

A Writing Funny

Hell Has Frozen Over

Not really.

The day Hell freezes over will be the day I believe Justin Timberlake (Justin Timberlake?!? Really??) can actually get hot girls to pay attention to him other than in carefully scripted music videos, like the one I just saw on Fuse TV.

Get real, Justin. I've got some frozen marshmellows for you to roast over those Hell fires. Oh, wait... they're frozen.

Never mind.

Walk to Defeat ALS

On June 5, 1996, my family got the devastating news that my mom had been diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, better known as Lou Gehrig's disease. Average life expectancy after diagnosis was 2 1/2 years, preceded by slow paralysis of the entire body. There are exceptions to this, of course - noted physicist Stephen Hawking, for one - but the outlook for my mother was not good as she was already having issues with her walking, her balance, and her swallowing. Mom and I sat together in the neurologist's office as he delivered this difficult news, and one of the few coherent questions I could ask was, "How?" His answer was that there was no rhyme or reason to this disease, and it could strike anybody, at any time, at any age. He then added (as I later wrote down in my journal), "We've noticed it always seems to strike nice people."

Unfortunately, my dear, sweet mom was not one of the lucky ones - a few months later she was bedridden and on a respirator, unable to walk or breathe on her own. She lived the last 18 months of her life tied to a bed and a machine, and passed away less than 2 years after her initial diagnosis. I remember thinking very clearly how much we take for granted the simple act of walking - the ability to stand up and walk to the front door, the fridge, the dinner table, the yard. It was then I made up my mind to start walking daily for exercise - quite simply, because my mom couldn't. Twelve years later I still do it, and plan on doing it until I can't anymore, because I'm so very conscious of how quickly the ability to walk can be taken away.

This year, I'm participating in the annual Florida Walk to Defeat ALS, which will be held on March 13, 2010. One of my sisters is a Team Captain for her firm, and has already raised almost $400.00 for the cause - you can see her page and her progress at http://web.alsa.org/site/TR?px=2582385&fr_id=6237&pg=personal . You don't have to walk to donate.

Keep in mind that every 90 minutes a person in this country is diagnosed with ALS and every 90 minutes another person will lose their battle against this disease. No racial, ethnic or socioeconomic boundaries.

And no cure. Yet.

Why I Want To Like "Ghostwhisper" and "Medium", But Don't

I was thrilled when these two shows came on TV a few years ago (yes! Shows about ghosts and the young women who see them!) I liked Patricia Arquette as an actress and for being a bit of a rebel (always secretly impressed that she was married to Nicholas Cage for a while, back when he was hot), and I was neutral on Jennifer Love Hewitt.

But these two shows, while having a common theme, have leading ladies who are polar opposite personalities, and unfortunately, I don't find either one of them realistic.

Patricia Arquette, as psychic mom Alison in Medium, is about as much fun as a sack of wet laundry. The woman never smiles, EVER, and is completely self-absorbed, ignoring her gorgeously supportive husband and three semi-psychic children, sticking her nose in people's business with the finesse of an absent-minded rhinocerous, never caring about the repercussions to the living in her quest to make sense of her dreams of the dead.

Jennifer Love Hewitt, on the other hand, as Melinda in Ghostwhisper, is so sickly sweet and dewy-eyed all the time that you wonder if the spirits are drawn to her because she's made of spun sugar. She's SO girly precious-soft-and-feely that you just know she's got stuffed animals on her own personal Jennifer Love Hewitt bed. As in right now. Right this minute. I saw her on a talk show recently where she talked about how she "bedazzles" her lady parts - as in with a rhinestone stapler - which is a bit much TMI for TV, I think.

At any rate, I like characters who are realistic, and I think the writers have missed the boat on both these shows. Mix it up a little, will ya? Get Melinda out of those fake eyelashes, and let Alison do something besides frown. Get to the ghost stories, and give us some characterization we can care about.

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Forever Young - Love Rod Stewart, Hate the Song, and Here's Some Alternatives

Recently, someone asked me how old I was, and I told them the truth (like a fool). The response was, "I'd like the name of your plastic surgeon."

While it was meant as a compliment, it hurt my feelings. My face is my own-nothing nipped, tucked, or injected.

I have nothing against plastic surgery, when did it become impossible to look good without it? There are several things you can do to look younger than your age, and all of them are simple (stop rolling your eyes - I can see you!):

1) Good moisturizer, every day, and stay out of the sun or at least use heavy-duty sunscreen. (Vampires, take note! You were on to something long before the rest of it realized it!)

2) Omega 3 Fish Oil. Pharmaceutical grade, not the over-the-counter stuff. Good for your heart, your complexion, your hair, your everything.

3) Laugh a lot, every chance you get. I can't emphasize this one enough.

3) Regular exercise, doesn't have to be extreme. I walk. Lots.

4) Cut way back on the red meat, unless every few months you feel a burning desire to be a carnivore. Indulge it, and then you'll remember why you don't really miss it.

5) Watch the fried foods. Fried=bad. Might as well open a bottle of fat and drink it.

6) Red wine vs. hard liquor. Must I really explain this one? One your body likes, one it doesn't. Try it, and after a day or two while your taste buds adjust, you'll like it.

7) Don't smoke. Smoke is right up there with sun when it comes to causing skin damage (not to mention what it does to your lungs, your arteries, your brain cells...)

8) Having people who love you, even if you're not perfect. (I'm not minimizing this one by putting it last - appreciate those who appreciate you.)

In many ways, it comes down to the simple equation of input vs. output. Treat your body well, enjoy it while you can, and it will last longer. Abuse it, and say "buh-bye" to your youth long before you're ready.

Oh, and by the way, don't call me a "cougar", either! Hate that women over the age of *cough, cough* who still look good have to be labeled as predatory felines. Geesh. Bite me, already. Or maybe I'll bite you, and throw in a claw mark or two while I'm at it. I can do that, and I don't need fake nails to do it.

I Love Me Some Fireworks

Every year my town throws its own version of Mardi Gras, Florida style, by hosting the annual pirate invasion festival known as Gasparilla.

It's a week-long extravaganza, with at least three street parades, a recreated pirate invasion (swashbuckler style) involving thousands of boats, an airshow, fireworks, charity events, street parties, and general craziness. It's not uncommon right now to walk through my neighborhood and see a giant flag on someone's front porch that says "Arrggghhh! Surrender the booty!"

Why we celebrate being invaded by pirates, I'll never know, but it's fun. :-) Gasparilla begins today for the kids with the Gasparilla Children's parade (the week starts out gently and gets crazier), which will be held not too far from my house. While I'm not going to the parade, I'll be able to stand outside and see the airshow, and tonight my husband and I will walk down to the water to see my favorite part of Gasparilla, the free fireworks.

It'll be fun. Fireworks in the the sky, music in the air, sea breeze in my face. Life is good.

Dweller - A "Monster Bromance" by Jeff Strand

My friend Jeff Strand writes horror novels - sometimes with a comedic twist, sometimes not, leaving his style to perhaps best be described as a blend of a Stephen King and Christopher Moore, who maybe met and adopted a psychopathic baby with a reddish moustache and goatee. (C'mon, wouldn't you be twisted if you were the adopted love child of Stephen King and Christopher Moore?)

DISCLAIMER: I am not saying that Jeff actually IS the adopted love child of Stephen King and Christopher Moore. I'm saying that Jeff is, in theory, LIKE the adopted love child of Stephen King and Christopher Moore might be, if such an adopted love child existed.

Anyway, last week I got an email from Jeff with the attention grabbing title of "I'M NOT RIPPING YOU OFF!", and opened it to find that he was indeed doing just that. (I expected no different, and admire him for his initiative.) Jeff had fulfilled a life-long dream (or at least a two week dream, give or take a week) by corresponding with another delightfully creative whacko, Trevor Strong of The Arrogant Worms, who wrote and performed a catchy little tune for Jeff's latest novel, DWELLER. To prove I had no hard feelings for the festering feelings of jealousy that drove Jeff to try and duplicate the coolness of DEAD GIRLS ARE EASY by The 69 Eyes, I decided to dust off my movie maker skills, add some visuals to the mix, and created this book trailer for DWELLER (which, by the way, has his full approval, and he is now using as his "official" book trailer, so it's not like I'm a meanie or anything):



I think it turned out pretty good, but now just TRY and get that song out of your head! If you can't, just go ahead and buy the book when it comes out in April, and maybe the voices inside your head will go away.

The 69 Eyes on Swedish TV - Never Say Die

Ok, ok, so I have the Helsinki Vampires on the brain (best of luck on the latest European tour, guys!), but all you have to do is watch this video of them performing live on Swedish TV Wednesday morning to see why (have to sit through a Swedish commercial first, though, sorry!):



An old-school-cool and new-school-show-you-how-it's done, 110% performance from each and every one of them. I heart rock n' roll, 69 Eyes style!

Silent Night, Haunted Night Voted One of the "Top Ten Books of 2009"

Pop Syndicate is a cool pop culture review site, filled with variety: a multitude of reviews and podcasts about books, movies, TV shows, music - everything popular, everything modern, with some cult classics, anime and manga thrown in.

Their most recent review of Silent Night, Haunted Night was one of my favorites (a very insightful review that went deeper than most, which every author loves!). It was icing on the cake to learn that I'd been voted as one of the top ten books reviewed by the site in 2009!

I'm flattered to be in the company of these other nine authors and their work:

Child of Fire by Harry Connolly
Running Hot by Jayne Ann Krentz
Prime by Nate Kenyon
Gotcha! by Christie Craig
Darker Angels by M.L.N. Hanover
Enter Evil by Linda Ladd
The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers by Angie Fox
The Fireside Cookbook by James Beard
Living Trust Advisor by Jeffrey L. Condon

Congratulations to you all, and thanks, Pop Syndicate!

A Final Word On E-Piracy

I've yet to read one of David Hewson's books, but I admire him a great deal for the public stance he's taken on the subject of illegal file downloading. Already ordered a couple of his books, in fact, simply because they not only look intriguing, but because he's an intelligent guy, and I assume intelligent published authors write intelligent books. If anything, he's too intelligent, and because of that, I fear much of what he's pointing out will be missed, so I'm reiterating it here.

He began by talking about e-piracy itself, but took it one step further by making an insightful point about e-piracy in his blog about how e-piracy sites are ad-driven, which means the noble file hackers who ignore the rules and upload files to the web for the "benefit of their fellow men who can't afford it" are actually making money off the misguided Internet shoplifters who frequent their sites.

How does it feel to be taken advantage of, book/movie/music thieves? You're nothing more than a pawn in the empiralistic world of consumerism, being lured to a site by a trial of breadcrumbs, falling prey to the oldest scam in the book, that of "something for nothing". (Oh, please don't start leaving me comments telling me that you've never once clicked on an online forum ad...)

At any rate, the excuses for e-book piracy seem to boil down to:

"I share stolen files out of the goodness of my heart, for the benefit of my online friends."
"I do it because these are books I would never have bought anyway."
"I do it because I can't afford to do otherwise."
"I do it because I want to know if I'll like it before I spend money on it."

Hm. I guess when I stole a balloon as a child I should've said, "But if I hadn't stolen it, the world would never have possibly/maybe/sort of/theoretically enjoyed that balloon!"

And all would've been well with the world, because hey... who needs to learn the difference between right and wrong in this day and age, anyway?

(For you literal nerd-types, I meant that sarcastically. )

And here's my final point: I'm going to read David Hewson's books not because I got them for free, but because I read something about him that I liked, and in that, I found some commonality. We agree on book piracy, and his books look interesting. We are strangers, yet sympatico.

You people out there who want my books for free after I've worked so hard on them and my publisher has invested money in them? We are not sympatico. We have nothing in common. Don't bother to download my books, because you won't like them.

We have no commonality.

The Lamest Excuse for E-Piracy I've Ever Heard

If you've read my previous blog on this subject, or any other author's blogs, or excellent articles like this one or this one or that one, you may have heard that ebook piracy has become a major problem for authors. We, and our publishers, lose many thousands of dollars in revenues from books sales every year, because our books (even those that are already available as low-price ebooks for Kindle, Sony Reader, or Nook) are being illegally converted to downloadable format and distributed for free all over the Internet. What this means is we (and our publishers) can either spend tons of time and effort to send "take down" letters to these file-sharing sites threatening them with legal action (which is kind of like squashing cockroaches - as soon as you crush one, another pops up, and for every five you see, there are probably another five hundred hiding inside your wall), or we can ignore them, and freely allow ourselves to be exploited.

Well, this past weekend I received yet another Google Alert of yet another illegal download of ALL FOUR of my books, so instead of simply reporting them to my publisher's legal department, I took the time to speak up publicly on the file-sharing site's forum about how I felt about what was happening.

I thought it might be fun to share with my readers the reaction I got when I did. :-)

Here's my first comment, in reply to the posting of the illegal downloads:

I hate to be a drag, but my books are not freeware. This is stealing. If you like my books enough to read them, you should pay for them (the Kindle/Sony/Nook versions are very inexpensive).

Why? Because pirated downloads like these not only take money directly from my pocket, but they do not count toward my "publisher-recognized" sales, and if they don't know my books are selling, they're not going to pay me to write more.

Boom. No more books by Terri Garey, or any of the other authors you might like but download for free because you think it's okay.

Tell me this - would you work for a year (or more) for free? Because that's how long it takes to write a book.

Terri Garey (the author)

Apparently, hackers are not used to actually being called on their hacker-ism, and I wasn't believed, as evidenced by this response:

OOOOOpppppppsssss !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this does beg the question, is this an early april fools day trick by or, what is dear ms garey looking 4 on this forum ?

To which I responded:

Ms. Garey has a Google alert set up to notify her when her books are being pirated for free on the Internet. She usually just reports sites like these to her publisher without speaking up publicly, but she's pretty darn tired of dealing with ebook piracy, so tonight, she decided to speak up. In third person, even.

Terri Garey (the author)

(So what do you do for a living? Feel like doing it for free for the benefit of your Internet friends, like those in this forum? If so, you're a better man/woman than me.)

Strangely enough (or perhaps not strangely at all), it turns out that guy who questioned my response was one of the forum administrators who routinely posts these illegal downloadable files. Here is his completely lame and laughable response, in which he basically says that he does it out of the good of his heart, and that no one bothers to download them anyway. (So, um... like WHY DO YOU DO IT THEN?), and then turns me over to one of the other administrators to be "dealt with". (*Note* "d/l" stands for "download"):

i do it for free, converting ebooks for my internet friends. lot of noise at the moment while the publishers realise there is no place for them anymore, they are going to lose all those profits. but in reality the dl's don't justify the noise. just look at how many times ur posts are d/led, not viewed, but d/led. not many and this forum has a high number in comparison to some. most people don't know or are too scared to d/l from a forum. hell who cares as long as we enjoy our selves and the viewers keep coming.

have a great week andree, i'm off to the beach for a day or so, you can "deal" w/Terri.

By the way, the way I was then "dealt with" was by being blocked from the forum. LOL! Bad author! How dare you speak up for yourself?!

Anyway, one final comment before I step down from my soapbox: Downloading books for free instead of paying for them hurts the reader just as much as the writer in the long run. Publishers will not continue to pay authors for books if they can't make money on them. Your pool of quality reading material will shrink to next to nothing, because the good authors will still expect to be paid for their work. (You think Stephen King or Nora Roberts or J.K. Rowling are going to start writing for free?)

What about Charlaine Harris, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Yasmine Galenorn, Jeaniene Frost, Larissa Ione or any of your other favorite Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance authors? If no one is willing to pay for their books, why should they bother to write them?

Think about that.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Yesterday was my husband's birthday, and I decided to go bananas with his party. :-) He has quite the weird sense of humor, my Bob, and given that he's thrown me some very uniquely themed birthday parties over the years (a Home Depot party, an eBay party, a Big Lots party, and a Buddha party), I felt like it was his turn.

Here he is doing is best to look like the monkey on his banner, and doing a pretty good job! One of the most fun parts of the evening was that everyone else there got into the swing of things, too, and after making Bob leave the room while we prepared, we treated him to a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" with everyone wearing monkey masks!


This was one of my favorite shots of the evening, taken quite accidently, when one of our guests realized that Bob was standing and chatting, oblivious to the fact that one of the hanging monkey decorations was perfectly aligned with his head! (The monkey stars were aligned, so to speak.) He snapped it before Bob moved away, and I seriously think he should start using it as his Facebook photo, don't you?






Here's a shot of what happens when people really get into swing of things (I've known for years that my sister was bananas, but I had no idea they'd start coming out of her ears!)

At any rate, a good time was had by all, and my wonderful husband is another year older (but no wiser). Happy birthday, sweetheart!

Life Is What Happens When You're Making Other Plans...

The last two weeks of December have been a bit of blur - not only have I been responsible for the stock prices of Kleenex shooting into the hemisphere and spent a lot of time in bed or in a recliner watching old movies, but my dear, sweet mother-in-law has been gravely ill in the hospital, my son graduated college, and oh, we celebrated the small annual occurrance that is Christmas. :-)

Plus, I'm writing. The first book of my new series is due April 1st, and I want it to be awesome, so in between the Kleenex and the family time, I'm writing. :-) Apart from some Twits and a bit of Facebook time, I haven't been online much.

At any rate, I'm wishing everyone a fabulous New Year and letting you know I'm not dead. I will be back again soon, with my normal fascinating and riveting combination of excerpts and observations. (Can't wait, I know!) ;-P

That was totally sarcastic. Really.

Behind The Veil

Sometimes I feel like that on this blog, except I'm not nearly as spooky as Boris Karloff... :-)

Battle Of The Bad Boys

The boogeyman under the bed... the monster in the closet... scary creatures who go bump in the night seem a lot more physical these days. Vampires, shapeshifters, demons, fallen angels. Spooky has become sexy, and it started long before Bram Stoker's Dracula. The Old Testament alludes to how angels found mortal women desirable, Gen. 6:2 the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. One would certainly assume that those ancient women found angels completely irresistable in return. So the yen and yang of sex and attraction has always gone hand-in-hand with good and evil, and sometimes the two get mixed.

So what's the current connection between sex and supernatural? Why so many books and movies? Aside from the marketing aspects, I think, for women, it's not just the idea of the ultimate, misunderstood, bad boy... it's about female empowerment. If a woman can bring a supernatural male to his knees through love and desire, that's quite a coup. (If that sounds sexist, then it is, because part of the empowerment involved is admitting it.) :-) It's all about the ladies these days, and what pleases us, whether you're Team Edward or Team Jacob. :-)

Of course, we do love our bad boys (in theory). The bad boy with the good side who wants to be good, but is trapped, governed by fate or fortune or forces beyond his control. Poor, misunderstood bad boy. LOL

The book I'm working on right now, THE DEVIL'S BARGAIN, has two bad boys, and they're squaring off for a battle royale. As the writer, I'm not quite sure who's side I'm on, because I'm rooting for them both. :) The main character is such a bad boy that he's stealing all the scenes. (Oh, that Sammy Divine... he's got a story to tell, that one. And he's determined to tell it his own way, in his own time, with a wicked wink, a killer grin and a bad boy swagger.) But he's got some competition in Finn, the rock star who sold his soul for rock-n-roll, and now wants it back.

Me? I'm just sitting back, calling the shots, and feeling empowered. :-)

Neither one of these bad boys want to stay under the bed or in the closet, and I don't want them to, either.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies In A Jar (great gift idea!)

I just sent out my most recent newsletter (you're on the list, aren't you?), and since I like to include little extras in it whenever I can, I started searching for great (inexpensive) gift ideas, and found this:

OATMEAL RAISIN COOKIES IN A JAR

3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
3/4 cup raisins
2 cups rolled oats
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
Mix together flour, ground cinnamon, ground nutmeg, baking soda and salt. Set aside. Layer ingredients in order given in a 1 quart "wide mouth" canning jar. It will be a tight fit, make sure you firmly pack down each layer in place before adding the flour mixture.

Instructions to attach to jar:

Oatmeal Raisin Spice Cookies
1. Empty jar of cookie mix into large mixing bowl. Use your hands to thoroughly blend mix.
2. Add: 3/4 cup butter or margarine softened at room temp. Stir in one egg, slightly beaten. Add in 1 teaspoon of vanilla.
3. Mix until completely blended. You may need to finish mixing with your hands.
4. Shape into balls the size of walnuts. Place on a parchment-lined cookie sheet 2 inches apart. DO NOT USE WAXED PAPER.
5. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 11 to 13 minutes until edges are lightly browned. Cool 5 minutes on baking sheet. Remove cookies to baking racks to finish cooling. Makes 3 dozen cookies.

Put a festive ribbon around the top of the jar, and you've got an inexpensive holiday gift that can be given regardless of race, creed or color (Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, atheism, monotheism, paganism..). Everybody loves cookies!

And by the way, did I mention that you should JOIN MY MAILING LIST? I usually only send them four times a year to keep my readers updated on new releases, contests, free bookmarks and other goodies like the cookie recipe. Go sign up!

O Spider, Where Art Thou?

Ok, must confess that I've avoided going into the attic all week because last weekend, when I went in to pull out the Christmas tree ornaments, I saw a big, ugly spider sitting right on top of the box I was about to put my hand on. *picture me screaming, snatching my hand back, and disappearing out the door*

Today, made my son go in with me to fend off giant, hairy, 8-legged creatures, only to discover that it was a PLASTIC HALLOWEEN SPIDER that had fallen off my Halloween wreath.

Sigh. My favorite holiday just came back to bite me. My only consolation is that he was very cautious in his approach, too, though I'll probably never live it down...

Apologies (In Advance) to Twilight Fans...

... but this cracked me up!

Dark Kisses from Croatia: New Interview and Book Review at Venia, the Croatian webzine for all things dark!

Venia is a very cool Croatian e-zine devoted to alternative music, pop culture, literature and movies. The magazine is also a part of the team behind the Croatian fansite for my favorite vampire/goth band, The 69 Eyes, (http://www.the69-eyes.com/), and when I got an email from the editor last month, asking if I'd consent to an email interview about my writing, I was only to happy to oblige!

*WARNING* The English translation leaves a bit to be desired - it's a bit choppy, but you can get the gist!

Take a look at their very cool site (here's the English version) http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/intro.html , read my interview at http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/column/storyof-terrigarey-interview2009.html, read a great review of DEAD GIRLS ARE EASY at http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/column/storyof-terrigarey-deadgirlsareeasy.html, or enter the contest to win a signed copy at http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/other/competition.html.



However, if you're like me, you might find it cooler just to read the Croatian versions at:

Venia-Mag: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/intro.html
Interview: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/kolumna/kultura-intervju-terrigarey.html
Review: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/kolumna/kultura-knjizevnost-deadgirlsareeasy.html
Contest: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/ostalo/nagradna.html

The 69 Eyes will be playing in Zagreb (Croatia) on January 24th, 2010. I'd love nothing more than to be there, but I will just have to be satisfied with some dark kisses from Croatia in the meantime.

Rock on, ghoulfriends, and THANKS, Venia-Mag!

Incubus Rising - An Original Short

Incubus Rising
by Terri Garey^©

She was an alabaster dream. Pale hair, pale as moonbeams, lay across the snow-white pillowcase. Her cheeks held just the faintest shade of pink, lips holding the cherry sheen of rosebuds I’d long since forgotten. Her dream was full of softness, and the openness of longing. Whoever she longed for was a lucky man. But this night, I was luckier, for I slid into her welcoming warmth with the ease of a practiced lover, and the joy of a man who’d found his reason for existence.

Even after his existence had long ceased.

She sucked in her breath along with my shaft, moaning and rippling her pleasure. Her warm depths gripped me, welcoming my heft and girth as it was meant to be. I worked her well, letting her dream do more of its work, letting it draw us both into its spiral until she gasped her release beneath me, never waking.

Then I withdrew, kissing her gently as I went, leaving her spent and slumbering with a smile upon her lips, while I burned, stiff with a need that could never be released.

For that is my fate, you see.

To satisfy, yet never be satisfied. To please, but never be pleased.

Lest you wonder at my punishment, look only to your own natures, and judge me not. For whether or not women were Adam’s downfall, they have most surely been mine.

Wicked Little Pixie's Book Blog and Giveaway

In my never-ending quest to rule the blog guesting world, :-) I just did an interview for Natasha over on Wicked Little Pixie's urban fantasy and paranormal review site, "Writings of a Wicked Book Addict".

Stop by and leave her a comment for a chance to win her contest, and get "a reader's choice" of books from my backlist!

Blogging at Borders With Sue Grimshaw - win some books!

Stop by and visit with me today as I chat with Sue Grimshaw, corporate executive and Romance Buyer for Borders, Inc., on her blog, "Borders True Romance". We'll be talking about my latest release Silent Night, Haunted Night and I'll be giving away three copies of the book (along with a sparkly Christmas snowflake ornament) to three lucky commenters!

So Today Was My Birthday...

...and I had a great day. I got the coolest new cellphone ever, a Droid (which just came out last week, and I am already deeply in love with), my husband let me sleep late (7:30a, late for me), made me breakfast, and has also ordered me some lovely wine glasses (husbands of the world, take note!). Then I had some serious online time, answering a myriad of birthday wishes (in my pajamas) until after 11am (and I'm sure, missing some) while guest blogging over at Plotmonkeys on their weekly Craft Saturday. I had some great phone calls from some of the people I love the most, and got some great cards, both emailed and otherwise. Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to wish me Happy Birthday!

Tonight, I'm off to a family celebration to enjoy a joint birthday with my brother-in-law (who makes some awesome bar-b-que), and see some family.

Hope you're all having a good weekend!

A Thank You To My Readers

Here's to my readers! Thanks so much for buying my books, and reading my stories. I got the great news the other day that less than two weeks after it's initial release, Silent Night, Haunted Night has already gone into a second printing! That would never have happened unless supply exceeded demand, which means a lot of books were sold fairly quickly. Thank you so much!

I've probably blogged about this before, but it's always nervewracking to send your work out into the world, in many ways like sending your five year old to school for the first time. You gave birth to this idea, and you fed it and nurtured it and got it down on paper, worked into a coherent plot and some believable characters, and you included doses of humor and insight and wisdom, hoping to mold it into something people would approve of and enjoy. And then you sit back and hand it over to others, who get to judge - will your baby be ok without you? Will the world see how special he/she is? Will they appreciate the work you've put into making it the best it could be?

So far, luckily nobody's told me my baby was ugly, although a few of my readers have threatened to give Joe a good butt-kickin' for being such a man. :-)

Now, having given the sigh of relief heard 'round the world, I'm turning my attention back to my current work-in-progress. I'm still hanging around on the Web, though, so stop by and visit with me if you can:

I'm taking questions about the Nicki Styx series over at the Barnes&Noble Romantic Reads Forum through Friday, Nov. 13th, and on Saturday the 14th I'll be swinging by PlotMonkeys to hang with NYT and USA Today best-selling authors Julie Leto, Carly Phillips, Janelle Denison and Leslie Kelly. On Monday the 16th, I'll be the guest of Sue Grimshaw, Corporate Romance Buyer for Borders Group, Inc., on her Borders True Romance Blog.

In the meantime, keep reading, and thanks again!

Barnes&Noble Book Clubs "Romantic Reads" Forum

Join me at the Barnes&Noble Book Club forum where I'll be yakking all week about the Nicki Styx series! http://tinyurl.com/ya7666g

In Praise of Decent Men

I got some great news the other day - a wonderful review in a monthly column written by NYT best-selling historical romance author, Eloisa James, at BarnesandNobleReview.com, entitled "In Praise of Decent Men".

In addition to being a NYT best-selling author, Ms. James is a professor of English literature teaching Shakespeare at Fordham University, and her column this month focused on the often overlooked "good guys" who get crowded out of the romance genre by those naughty bad boys. She had this to say about Joe Bascombe, the hero in SILENT NIGHT, HAUNTED NIGHT:

Joe always sees the good in people, even if they're not so good. Joe is a real hero. This is a fascinating romance, and not merely due to the various ghosts and devils running around Atlanta. When the "ahh" moment arrives at the end of the book, it comes from a surprised, happy realization that honor and decency can trump even the hottest devil.

For all that we love our bad boys, it's the hope of winning one of the good ones that keeps us going, doesn't it?

I was thrilled to have a character from one of my books epitomize the concept of a true hero, and beyond thrilled to have him included in the same league as Jack, the hero of Nora Roberts' latest, Bed Of Roses. (I mean, she's Nora Roberts!) :-)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! - A True Halloween Ghost Story

Time for a good old-fashioned ghost story, boys and ghouls! Except, unlike most ghost stories, this one is true.

People often ask me if I've ever seen a ghost (me being the ghost writer and all), and the short answer is no. The long answer, however, is I didn't have to SEE a ghost in my house in order to KNOW there was a ghost in my house.

When my husband and I were newly married, we decided to give our blended family of three children a fresh start by moving to a new home. We decided to find a house to rent before we bought one of our own, to give us time to get used to the area. A realtor friend gave us some recommendations, and within a few weeks we settled into a lovely ivy-covered brick home, straight out of the pages of Americana.

The first few months were uneventful, but one day as I pulled my car into the driveway, I noticed an elderly man standing in front of the house. We spoke, and I learned he was my next-door-neighbor’s father come for a visit. During the course of our chat, he casually asked me what I thought of the house I was renting. I told him we liked it very much, at which point he gave me a strange look, and asked if I knew the house’s history. His exact words were, “Pretty gory stuff.” Since I’ve always had a healthy fear of the unknown, I decided on the spot that I did NOT want to hear any more. I didn't ask him what he meant, just excused myself and went inside.

The very next morning, my daughter came to my room and said she needed to speak with me privately 'about the house’. My immediate thought was that the old man next door had said something to her, too, but she had no idea who I was talking about, never having met or even seen him. She then went on to tell me of a hair-raising experience she’d had during the night just past.

Sometime between 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning, she woke to use the bathroom. While she was in there, the bathroom door opened by itself. Half-asleep, she assumed it was the family dog nosing his way in, and glanced over, expecting to see the dog. What she saw instead was the ‘outline’ of a man, leaning in as though he had a hand on the doorknob on the outside of the door. Although she couldn’t make out his features, she said she got the impression that he was tall, mid-30s maybe. While she stared, stupified, he seemed to dissolve before her eyes. Convinced she was either dreaming or imagining things, she nervously returned to bed. Unable to sleep, she said she felt like he followed her into her room and was sitting on the bed, though she saw nothing else. The experience unnerved her enough to bring the tale to me the next morning.

Still unwilling to give credence to any horror story the old man may have wanted to tell me, but now understandably curious, I decided to call the realtor who'd found us the house and ask what, if anything, she might know about the history of the place. To my shock, she very matter-of-factly informed me that there had been a murder there, a fact she had mentioned to my husband before we moved in, but never to me. (My husband, being a very down-to-earth type of person, thought it irrelevant at the time.) Unsure of the details of the murder, she suggested I talk to – you guessed it – the neighbors.

I resisted, but several days later, I saw my neighbor outside. Her father was gone, his visit over, but she was happy to fill me in about what happened in the house:

The original owner of the house was a local businessman in his 30’s who she described as a real ‘man-about-town, up-and-comer type’, who was evidently quite the ladies' man. One of his many girlfriends had come to the house in the middle of the night in a jealous rage, shot him in the head and chest, then killed herself on the spot. Not just a murder, but a murder/suicide. She provided me with the man’s name and the approximate year it happened. She also mentioned that no one ever lived in the house very long after that, which is apparently when it turned into a rental property.

I couldn’t leave it alone. I was jumping at shadows and very nervous to be alone in the house, so I decided to do some detective work. We have a very large public library, so I went down and started going through the old archives of our local newspaper. I found the actual newspaper articles (of which I made copies), and learned a great deal more about this tragic story.

Apparently the woman who killed her lover, and then herself, was a ‘good, sweet person’ in her late 20’s, and very much in love – but her lover was far more interested in ‘playing the field’. According to her family, the young woman gave up her two children because he told her that he would marry her if he didn’t have to be responsible for them. When it became clear that he had no intention of marrying her, she took matters into her own hands, buying a gun and then using it to make sure they were together – if not in life, then in death. His body was found in the hallway outside the bathroom door, in the exact spot where my daughter saw him!

And there's more to the story: shortly after finding the newspaper articles, I was relating this tragic tale to my older sister. When I told her the murdered man’s name, she quite literally turned pale. Not only did she remember the incident, but she informed me that she had actually dated the man herself! Never having been to his house or taken him seriously because of his reputation as a ‘ladies man’, she had no idea we’d moved into his home. Then she told me of her own odd experience when she’d stayed with us for a few days about a month or so earlier.

According to her, each time she’d gone into the same bathroom to take a shower, she would open the shower curtain to find that the bathroom door was standing wide open. After the first time it happened, she made sure that the door was latched and locked before stepping in the shower – but each time she emerged, the bathroom door was wide open again. She assumed at the time that it was my younger children (two boys) playing tricks on her, and didn’t mention it because she didn’t want to get them in trouble.

That was it for me. We moved out within the month, but the house is in our general neighborhood, on a main thoroughfare. I’ve driven past it many, many times over the years, and there has been a steady stream of renters in and out of it. Curious as I am what they might have experienced themselves, I’ll never set foot in it again if I can help it!

Any ghostly experiences in your family?

Edgar Allen Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart"

"TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story."

And so begins one of the most bone-chilling stories in literature, The Tell-Tale Heart, by Edgar Allen Poe. It's the tale of a man's descent into madness and the subsequent murder of an old man whose only sin was that he had become the focus of that madness.

"It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture -- a pale blue eye with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever. "

Ooo, gives me chills every time I read it! I discovered Poe when I was very young, and I have yet to read anyone who can creep me out the way he can. In this story, he not only murders the old man, but he takes great joy and pleasure in terrifying him first, merely by lying in wait for him in the darkness as the old man lies helpless in his bed:

"I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief -- oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me."

After he murders the old man and hides his body, the police arrive, alerted by the neighbors, who heard the old man's death scream. At first the murderer talks to them calmly, allaying their suspicions, until he begins to hear something... a rhythmic, muffled sound that gets louder and louder...

"No doubt I now grew VERY pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased -- and what could I do? It was A LOW, DULL, QUICK SOUND -- MUCH SUCH A SOUND AS A WATCH MAKES WHEN ENVELOPED IN COTTON. I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard it not."

Until finally, the madman cracks, and confesses all:

"Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! -- no, no? They heard! -- they suspected! -- they KNEW! -- they were making a mockery of my horror! -- this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! -- and now -- again -- hark! louder! louder! louder! LOUDER! --

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the beating of his hideous heart!"

Happy Halloween from Edgar and me... :-)

Macabre Munchies, Anyone?

I found these recipes on the web, and they totally tickled my funny bone! Perfect for a Halloween party, and oh-so-easy to make:

STRAINED EYE BALLS

Ingredients:

6 eggs
6 oz. whipped cream cheese
7 oz. green olives with pimientos
Red food coloring

Place the eggs in a saucepan and cover them with cold water. Cook over high heat until the water begins to boil. Then turn the heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes. Place the cooked eggs in cold water. When they are cool enough to touch, crack the eggshells all over by rolling them on a hard surface. Peel away the shells carefully and cut the eggs in half widthwise. Remove the yolks and fill the holes with cream cheese. Press an olive into each cream cheese eyeball, pimiento facing up, for an eerie green iris and startling red pupil! For a final touch, dip the tip of a toothpick in red food coloring and draw broken blood vessels in the cream cheese (I mean, why WOULDN'T you draw the broken blood vessels?)

BOOGERS ON A STICK

8 oz. jar of Cheez Whiz
Green food coloring
25 to 30 pretzel sticks

Melt the Cheez Whiz in the microwave or on top of the stove. Allow the cheese to cool slightly, then stir in about three drops of green food coloring, using just enough to turn the cheese a lovely shade of "booger green". Dip and twist the tip of each pretzel stick into the cheese, lift out, wait 20 seconds, then dip again, repeat if you want to. When your cheese lumps reach an appropriately boogerish size, set the pretzels down on waxed paper. Allow to cool at room temperative for ten minutes, or until firm. Gently pull off the waxed paper, and arrange on a serving platter (hopefully, one that looks like a nose!). LOL

Get Spooked With Silent Night, Haunted Night!

It's book release day! It's book release day! Squeeee!!

Ahem. Ok, got that out of my system. :-)

My fourth spooky novel is now in bookstores, just in time for Halloween! Squeee!!

(Ok, so maybe I didn't quite get it all out yet. )

In fact, maybe I never will get over the fact that I, the girl who grew up with her head in a book, now writes books for other people to enjoy. That's why I wanted to become a writer, you know - to give back some of the joy and pleasure and downright escapism that books have always given to me.

I've always been an avid reader - still am - in large part because no matter how bad things get, I can always pick up a book and be temporarily transported somewhere else. To me, a good book should be like a movie in your head, except far better, because with books, your imagination allows you to to make the characters and the settings appear exactly as you want them to - no need to worry about bad casting or bad acting, because you - the reader - are the director.

So far, one of my favorite things about being a writer is being able to create memorable characters: Nicki Styx, Joe Bascombe, Sammy Divine, Bijou, Caprice, Spider, and the various restless spirits that populate all my novels. They're not real, but they feel real to me, and I try to make them real for the reader, too. (It's called "suspension of disbelief", which is a fancy, opposite-speak way of just saying "believable".) :-)

I think I need a little suspension of disbelief myself today, because I just can't believe that my childhood dream has come true again, for the fourth time.

Did I mention that Silent Night, Haunted Night is in bookstores today? Squeeee!!!

A Halloween Ghost Story

Any creative writers out there? Here's a fun exercise I like to do to spark a little creativity: find a picture (any picture), and write a quick short story to go along with it. Don't overthink it, don't agonize over it, just do it! Here's a old picture of someone's living room, which I'm about to turn into a ghost story:

The Haunted Corner

Opal Myers sat in her favorite chair, right by the window, where she could watch the world go by without ever leaving the plush comfort of her home. While others stood in bread lines and whined about lack of work, Opal had merely to ring a small bell and food would be brought to her on a tray. Another ring, and the tray would be taken away, the crumbs no doubt eaten by a sneaky servant girl before they reached the kitchen.

Opal didn't care. Let them eat cake. Depression, indeed. The poor deserved their fate... they either hadn't the guts to work hard, or they hadn't the wits to marry money. She'd done both.

"Wow, honey... look at this place." A man's voice disturbed Opal's privacy, but she didn't look away from the window. The man would be gone soon enough. "Still looks like it did in 40's."

"The 30's, actually." A woman's voice answered him, a voice that Opal found vaguely familiar. Familiar enough to ignore. "We at Hampton House take great pride in keeping the house just the way it looked when the murder occurred. Opal Myers was killed right there, in that chair."

"Ew... how creepy." Another woman's voice, different from the first. "By her own son? That's what the brochure said."

"It was never proven who did it, but the son was the number one suspect. He disappeared right after the murder and was never seen again."

Opal settled herself more deeply into the chair and smiled a chilly smile. Her son would come home eventually, and when he did, she'd be waiting.

"Browse Inside" Widget - A Sneak Peek at Silent Night, Haunted Night!

'Tis The Season to Win an ARC of Silent Night, Haunted Night

Only one more week until the release of SILENT NIGHT, HAUNTED NIGHT but if you're the eager type, or just feeling lucky :-) , pop on over today to The Season, hosted by author Beverley Kendall, where she's giving away one of the few remaining Advance Reader Copies in a "Pinch of Paranormal"!

Good luck!