Join Me In The Supernatural Underground for Books That Go Bump In The Night!

Hear that creaking noise?  Is the door to an ancient crypt, or the slow opening of a coffin that's lain hidden for centuries? Shhh... that whisper... is it the wind, or the voices of lost and lonely souls, clamoring for your attention?

Nah, you guessed it... it's the gates to the Supernatural Underground, and I am SO excited to throw them open and let you all inside!

I've recently joined a group of best-selling HarperCollins authors, writing Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance for adults and teens under the Avon, Eos, HarperTeen and William Morrow imprints, who've decided to band together to share our books and our love of the supernatural genre with like-minded readers.  After meeting each other at conference events, booksignings, cocktail parties and book tours, we discovered that not only did we actually like each other, we admired each other's work, and truly understood all the time and effort that goes into the writing life in a way perhaps no one else could.

Join us as we step from the shadows, ready to share our love of books that go bump in the night with you, the reader, in a series of individual author blogs in which we discuss our writing processes, our characters, our upcoming and past releases, our lives, our inspirations, our frustrations, hopes, plans, dreams... and maybe even our favorite brand of chocolate!  (Aw, c'mon... you knew there would be chocolate, right?)

We write about what we love, and for many of us, that love is rooted in our childhood...fairy tales, favorite books, horror movies, television. Take a second and think: what is it that first drew YOU toward the dark side?

Head on over to the Supernatural Underground, leave us a comment and let us know. We're kicking off the opening of the Supernatural Underground with a plethora of paranormal goodie giveaways starting with vampires, ghosts and post-apocalyptic romance:

An autographed set of Jeaniene Frost's NIGHT HUNTRESS series, complete with bookmarks!

An autographed set of Terri Garey's NICKI STYX series, complete with bookmarks!

An autographed set of the first three books in Joss Ware's ENVY CHRONICLES!

How do you enter?  It's easy, and there's tons of ways to earn extra chances at winning!  All the details can be found HERE.

Winners will be announced tomorrow, June 2nd, 2010, so get busy and spread the supernatural word! Open to US and International.

Stop by often throughout the month, as we'll be giving away more goodies on a daily basis than you can shake a gargoyle at, including books by Melissa Marr, Jocelynn Drake, Pamela Palmer, Vicki Petterson, Kerrelyn Sparks, Tracey O'hara, and many more!

Revise. Rinse. Repeat.

That's what I've been doing these days, revising. It's a normal part of the writing process, and in my humble opinion, it's what makes a book worth reading.

I know some writers who can whip through a manuscript from start to finish, and as soon as they write that last line, they're done. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending how you look at it), that is not me. :-)

I revise as I go along, deleting a sentence here, adding a sentence there, layering on emotion and thoughts and feelings, removing unnecessary details and striving for "less is more". Then, when I've polished it to the level I'm happy with, I send it to my editor, and guess what? She sends it back with suggestions on how to revise it even further. (This, as you might imagine, is both a blessing and a curse!) :-)

Thankfully-and I mean that sincerely-I almost always agree with her suggestions. Her main suggestion for my latest work, DEVIL WITHOUT A CAUSE, was to add to the storyline of my favorite character, the Devil himself, Sammy Divine. "Oh, what a hardship!" I wailed gleefully, upon receiving the news.

So that's what I've been up to, and that's what I'll be up to through the month of May. In June, I'll be back online with a host of paranormal pals, when we kick off our new group blog, the Supernatural Underground: Books That Go Bump in The Night (see the post below for details, and click on the link for even more).

Happy May, and keep reading!

Books That Go Bump In the Night

One of the cool things about being a writer is getting to meet other writers, particularly when those other writers are the ones you truly love to read. Thanks to the initiative of the prolific and talented Pamela Palmer (who writes about feline shapeshifters for Avon, elves for Silhouette Nocturne, and time travel for Berkley), I'm about to embark on a joint blogging/Facebook adventure with some wicked cool paranormal/urban fantasy authors, which we're tentatively calling the "Supernatural Underground: Books That Go Bump In the Night".

Authors Melissa Marr, Jeaniene Frost, Vicki Pettersson, Dakota Banks, Colleen Gleason, Juliana Stone, Sharie Kohler, Tracey O'Hara, Merrie Destefano, Kimberly Derting, Pamela and I all write "books that go bump in the night" for our publisher, HarperCollins, under the Avon, Eos and HarperTeen imprints. Many are NYT best-selling, award-winning authors, and together, I honestly believe that we comprise the best of what the current paranormal/urban fantasy genre has to offer! (She says modestly.) :-) Demons, vampires, faeries, werewolves, shapeshifters... maybe even a zombie or two! We'll be blogging about what we're working on, what we're reading, holding contests and giveaways, and will hopefully soon be joined by occasional special guests like Lynsay Sands, Marjorie Liu, and Kerrelyn Sparks.

It's a supernatural smorgasbord! LOL

We're still working out the details, but are starting with a Facebook page, so click THIS LINK and join in the fun. You don't want to miss what we've got in store for our readers!

Dead Girls Are Easy In Its Third Printing!

I got some great news yesterday - my first novel, published originally in September 2007, is now in its THIRD printing.

What does that mean? It means that two and a half years after DEAD GIRLS ARE EASY hit the bookstore shelves, people are still buying it, so much so that the publisher has gone back and printed extra copies to meet the demand (twice).

Yes, that makes me very happy, because despite the fact that I'm working on a new series these days, I'm not quite ready to let go of Nicki Styx and her quirky cast of secondary characters: Evan, Joe, Kelly, Grandma Bijou, Odessa, Spider, Butch... they're all near and dear to my heart, even after writing four books (and a novella) about them. DEAD GIRLS ARE EASY is the first book in that series of four, so I'd hate to see it go out of print. How else will people discover how Nicki came to be able to see and hear the dead? How will they learn how she met Joe, the love of her life, or Kelly, the not-so-twin sister she never knew she had?

The way for an author to hit the New York Times bestseller list is to sell a ton of books, and sell them very fast. The way for an author to maintain a career is to sell a ton of books, and keep selling them. It's the "slow and steady wins the race" method vs. the "immediate cultural phenomenon" method. Of course I'd like to make NYT (every author does), but I'm very happy to keep plugging away quietly and have my readers keep finding me book by book, then wanting more.

So here's a huge THANK YOU to my readers for continuing to buy my books! Nicki, Joe, Evan and pals thank you, too. :-)

Dweller: A Novel by Jeff Strand

Remember that imaginary friend you had as a kid? What if he wasn’t imaginary, and what if he was actually a monster? A big, hairy monster with sharp claws, and even sharper teeth?

In DWELLER, the author touches on some of the same themes that have made the DIARY OF A WIMPY KID books so popular, but gives them an extra twist, with a side order of blood splatter. Toby Floren was once just an average little boy who one day got lost while playing in the woods, and came face-to-face with a real, live monster. He lived to tell the tale, which no one, of course, believed. Faced with his parents’ calm rationalizations, he begins to doubt his own story, and eventually consigns the experience to the realm of nightmares. Unfortunately, Toby’s life is now inevitably entwined with that of the monster, who is not the figment of his overly-active imagination, but is instead horrifyingly real. Using a very well-done flash forward technique, the author moves the reader forward a few years at a time, throughout the the rest of Toby’s long—and thoroughly messed up—life.

**Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD**

As a teenager, Toby is lonely, skinny and (understandably perhaps) a bit odd. He spends a great deal of time alone in the same woods he once played in as a child, and stumbles upon a cave, which is all-too-obviously occupied. Toby discovers there really IS a monster, and that the monster is just as lonely as he is. The two misfit outcasts forge an odd friendship, finely balanced on the razor sharp edge of claws, teeth, human frailties and teetering sanity. An object of ridicule among his peers and the favorite target of a pair of merciless bullies, Toby is one day pushed to the emotional breaking point by those same bullies, and does a Very Bad Thing. Not knowing where else to turn, Toby turns to his hairy, sharp-tooth pal (who he has by now named “Owen”) to help cover his crime.

Haunted by what he’s done, friendless save for Owen, Toby struggles through young adulthood and into his thirties, when he finally meets a nice, normal girl. Unfortunately, Toby now does a Very Stupid Thing, and has to learn to live with that, too. Eventually, as the years continue to roll by, we’re able to hope that perhaps things might work out for Toby—he marries, has children, has a somewhat decent life, and manages to keep his friendship with Owen a secret until well into his fifties. Things are going so well, in fact, that he finally reveals his secret to his nearest and dearest, and revealing it—in the end—costs him everything, including Owen.

I’ll leave the lurid (and sometimes surprisingly amusing) details to future readers to discover, but I will say that reading DWELLER was like watching a good horror movie: not only were there at least three—no, four—moments when I wanted to shade my eyes with my hands and scream, “No, don’t do it!”, and I knew the ending wasn’t going to be pretty, I couldn’t look away or stop reading. There were deeper themes at work here than just your average horror novel; themes like friendship and loyalty and man’s own inhumanity to man. And just like in some good old-fashioned horror movies, I ended up wondering, in the end, just who the REAL monster was: man, or the beast.

Domestic Violence: A Subject Very Close to My (formerly bruised) Heart

This blog is going to be different from what I normally talk about, so I hope you'll bear with me - there will be no jokes, no attempts at witticisms, and nothing whatsoever amusing to read. Instead, I'm going to cite some cold, hard facts that nobody (including me) really ever wants to talk about:

• 1 in 4 women are directly affected by domestic violence during their lifetime, and guess what? They're not nameless, faceless nobodies who deserve it for taking up with low life men. They're your neighbor, or your sister, the girl behind the counter at the coffee shop or the woman with the great clothes and nice hair that you see at the PTA meeting. They may even be the author who writes the funny/snarky/sexy books you like to read.
• Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women between the ages of 15 and 44 in the United States, more than car accidents, muggings, and rapes combined.
• An estimated 1.3 million women are victims of physical assault by an intimate partner each year.

I could go on, but do I really need to? I decided to speak up today because one of my local TV stations, an ABC affiliate, has devoted the last six weeks to the topic, culminating in a one-hour primetime special on Friday, April 23, 2010 at 8pm. Watching some of the videos and listening to some of the stories has really hit home, because yes, I, too - in the past - have been a victim of domestic violence. It's all behind me now - I've been very blessed and lucky to have been married for quite some time to a wonderful man who would never lay a finger on me, but that wasn't always the case. For too long, I was with someone else, someone who had no such scruples.

I've been punched. I've been kicked. I've been called every foul name you could think of, and then some. I've been threatened and stalked and spit on, had my bedding and curtains sliced to ribbons with a knife, hidden my bruises with long sleeves, long pants and makeup. I've lied to my doctor, family, friends and co-workers about a broken wrist and why I couldn't spend time with them. I have lived in fear, and in some ways I still do. When I finally got the courage to leave, I lost my house. I lived in hiding for almost a year. At a time when my safety and self-respect and personal resources were at their lowest, I had to fight tooth and nail for my children, and find the courage to get up and go to work every day in order to put bread on the table, looking over my shoulder the whole time.

And no, I never thought it would happen to me. I was too smart, too independent, too capable to ever find myself in that position - and yet I did.

Why did I lie to my family and friends, you wonder? Why did I put up with it, even for a day? Because weirdly enough, the psychological side of the abuse can be even worse than the physical. Victims of domestic abuse are made to feel ashamed, and helpless, and dependent upon the very person who hurts them the most. It's not an easy cycle to break, particularly when there are children involved, because the children themselves are often used as a weapon in the psychological war against you.

But break the cycle I did, and I'm no longer ashamed. I've finally realized that by not talking about it, by not sharing that I came through it as a much stronger person, I was still acting as though I were ashamed, when I was never the one who needed to be.

So this Friday night, at 8pm EST on ABC, I hope you'll watch "Taking Action Against Domestic Violence", and not turn a blind eye to the problem. Not only do I hope you'll watch it, I hope you'll do something about it, like:

1. Donate to your local women's shelter. Clothes, money, computers, toys, diapers - if you're a woman (and most of my readers are), put yourself in the position of homelessness and powerless and think about what you'd need. Then donate it.
2. Drop off your used cellphone in specially marked boxes at any Verizon location, no matter how old it is or what shape it's in. It will be recycled by the Verizon Hopeline Program, providing a much needed safety net to abused women. It costs you nothing, and it's probably just sitting in a drawer somewhere anyway, isn't it?
3. Speak up. 74% of Americans personally know someone who is or has been a victim of domestic violence. If you see someone with unexplained bruises or witness actual abuse, even if they deny it (and they most likely will) give that person your support, whether it's a shoulder to cry on or the number to the National Domestic Violence Hotline, which is 1−800−799−SAFE (7233). They'll be given instant, anonymous referrals to shelters and other valuable resources, no questions asked.

Yes, I have been a victim of domestic violence. There is hope - and there is life - on the other side of it. Do what you can to give that hope to others by donating, listening, and perhaps most importantly - learning not to judge. Believe me, victims of domestic violence are ashamed enough without being judged by those who've never been there.

Scorpions Sting

My extremely artistic, homeopathic non-Scorpio sister is going to kill me for this, but we've had conversations very close to this one (minus the nose job):

Devil Without a Cause

The first book in the Devil's Bargain series is now in the hands of my editor, and it has a new title: DEVIL WITHOUT A CAUSE. (No, this IS NOT the actual cover - it was done by a friend - but it's SO funny, isn't it?)

This particular title fits the book on so many levels - a misunderstood loner, rebelling against what's expected of him, taking on the world with his own version of right vs. wrong.

So what if he just happens to be the Devil himself, hm? :-)

(I must admit, there's even a resemblance between Sammy (Satan) Divine and James Dean!)

Sammy's not the only bad boy is this book. He goes head-to-head with his old friend, the Archangel Gabriel, and a more recent acquaintance named Finn Payne, who sold his soul for rock-n-roll.

Finn's had a long and very successful career, and Sammy's tired of waiting to collect on his end of the bargain. In DEVIL WITHOUT A CAUSE, he uses an unsuspecting young woman named Faith to tempt Finn to his doom, much as he feels he was tempted by Eve in those long ago days of the Garden of Eden. It's a twisted tale of love, forgiveness and redemption, and if I told you more than that... well, let's just say I want you to READ it to find out what happens!

I promise to post an excerpt as soon as my editor gives me the go-ahead, which should be soon. In the meantime, patience is a virtue, or so I'm told!

(Sammy would definitely disagree, but who you gonna listen to -- an angel, or a devil?)

Refilling the Creative Well With Family, Flowers and Pottery

One of the hazards of being a writer is that it can be a very solitary job, one that requires a lot of living in one's own head. The people we end up talking to the most can sometimes be the imaginary ones we create for our stories instead of the living ones who actually surround us. When one of my sisters recently told me that I "needed to get out more", I took her advice and booked a quick trip up to visit her in the Atlanta area for a change of scenery, a change of routine and a couple of days worth of relaxation.

Valerie is an extremely creative person, and has always been able to think outside the box. Her gifts are many and varied; she's a talented floral designer who recently opened her own shop, AND she's an amazingly gifted potter, with her own pottery studio.

I hadn't seen the store yet (though I'd heard all about it), and wasn't sure what to expect, though I knew it would be awesome. What I didn't expect was to walk through the door and go "WOW!" But I did, and here's why:



She's put her heart and soul into the place, and it shows. Unlike many florist shops, walking into hers is like walking into a secret garden, full of nature and gorgeous blooms. Check out the wallpaper - it's a silkscreened photo of an actual forest - and look what she has hanging there... those are her originally designed, handmade "tree masks". No two are even remotely alike (this picture doesn't begin to do them justice). They're outdoor garden art, designed to be strapped to live trees with rawhide. The expression, the detail, and the glazing makes them all fantastically unique and oddly alive.

So, yesterday, we spent most of the day in her pottery studio, where she showed me how to make my own. Since I have "devils" on the brain these days, guess what I came up with? :-) I was going for Puck, the horny satyr from Midsummer Night's Dream, and wanted him to look both naughty and mischievious.

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream.

This is just the raw clay version - Valerie will paint it with the glaze I chose, a speckled concoction of browns and creams, and then fire it in her kiln. Since firing up a kiln is quite a production, I probably won't see the finished product for several weeks. It was a pretty fascination process, though - shaping, smoothing, slicing - I used sea shells for the texturing. Who knew?

Anyway, I came back today, relaxed and refreshed, and ready to start the next book. Plus, my sister can't nag me about "getting out more". :-)

And They All Lived Hoppily Ever After...

I have no idea what possessed me (must've been a wild hare! Get it? Hair, hare? Oh, never mind...), but I agreed to play the Easter Bunny at my local YMCA this weekend as part of an Easter celebration sponsored by my church. Never having worn a big giant bunny head before, I didn't realize what I was getting myself into until I actually got fitted for the costume, and found out that big giant bunny heads can be extremely difficult to see through, and extremely hot.

However, they can also be extremely fun. :-) Here I am suiting up before the event:


And here's the finished product:


My obligatory "bunny pose" (take that, Playboy magazine!):


And the reason(s) I did it (look at those little faces!!!):


There were an estimated 300 people at the event, by far most of them kids. all who got to hunt for Easter eggs, jump in the bouncy house, make Easter crafts and eat snowcones and popcorn while listening to live music. And oh, yeah, get their picture taken with the Easter Bunny. :-) Luckily, only a few were frightened by me, and only one burst into tears. (Weirdly enough, they seemed more scared of my big white mitts than anything else.)

So yes, I'm a published author, and no, I'm not at all ashamed to say I dressed up as the Easter Bunny and made some kids happy. I end this Easter Blog with two of my favorite quotes: "Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused", and "Th-th-that's all, folks!"

Blame It On Billy

There was a trending topic on Facebook the other day, asking people about the first concert they ever attended. It got me thinking, and it got me remembering. :-)

My first concert was when I was 14, and while I can't remember the actual name of the band, I do remember the when, the where and the why. You're looking at him right now: my very first boyfriend, Billy.

Billy was my first serious crush, my first kiss, and the first teenage boy to ever tell me he loved me. (Can I hear an "awwwww...."). He lived in my neighborhood, was a year or two older than me, and gee - he had a garage band! I used to spend Saturdays hanging out at his house and listening to them play, and when he got his first real gig at a local apartment complex, I was there, as his biggest fan. I can't really remember why we broke up, but I do remember it as being amicable - no major drama, just growing up and moving on, I suppose. We eventually lost touch, of course, because right after high school, Billy struck out on his own looking for those "bright lights and big city".

I'm happy to say he found it, or at least his own version of it, and has been in several bands over the years. He's still making music out in Montana, both as a rock-n-roll deejay on local radio, and a solo performer. He tracked me down a couple of years ago, and I was thrilled to hear from him. He now goes by the name of Billy Angel, and though his hair doesn't look quite the way it used to :-), he's still the same sweet guy I remember: kind, funny, devoted to his wife and to the music he's always heard in his head.

I've been asked many times about the musical references I use in my books, the bands I love and follow (both old and new) and basically just how I got so into music. I have eclectic tastes when it comes to bands and am always open to variety - if I like it, I like it, and if I don't, no way am I going to accept your friend request on MySpace, no matter how many times you send me one! :-p (If I do, though, I will.)

While the easy answer as to why I like rock-n-roll so much is just that I just enjoy it in general, the real answer is that I blame it on Billy. :-)

HORNS: A Novel by Joe Hill

As the Rolling Stones once said, "You can't always get what you want, but you get what you need". That's how I felt about Joe Hill's HORNS. Once I got past the first scene, which I found a bit confusing (horns? a girl pigging out on doughnuts?), I couldn't put this book down, and actually had to force myself to put it aside and parse it out in small doses to make it last longer.

You see, one morning, after Ignatius Perrish spent the night "drunk and doing terrible things", he woke up with a hangover, a raging headache, and a pair of horns growing from his head. Not just any horns, but horns that had the power to make total strangers want to tell him their deepest, darkest thoughts. What he learned wasn't so great - everyone in the small town he grew up in believed he'd gotten away with brutally murdering his girlfriend a year earlier.

What drew me in and kept me there was how I honestly didn't know for quite some time whether Ig's horns were real, or just a figment of his tortured imagination. I loved how I wasn't sure myself whether Ig had murdered Merrin or not, and whether every evil thing that the secondary characters confessed to him was just part of an overall guilty psychosis. I found myself truly looking forward to each new character encounter, just to find out "what evil dwelt within the minds of men" (and women).

By the time I got to the middle of the novel, I could see where the author was flagging a bit, but I didn't hold it against him - I really wanted to see where it went and what would happen to poor, tortured Ig. I wanted to know if Merrin was the good girl she seemed to be, or if she, too, had the Devil inside. Joe Hill is obviously a fan of old time rock-n-roll, and the song references got to be a bit much (I had to roll my eyes at a particular plot point involving the Devil in a blue dress), but this was SUCH a good exploration of the evil and the good contained within the human heart, and our ongoing struggle to determine which side is going to win. Hill's writing style was so simple, yet so poignant, that I found myself reading certain passages over again ("The corn whispered frantically, spreading false rumors about him." "The wind caught her hair and did pretty things with it.")

As an aside, I'll point out that Joe Hill is the son of Stephen King, and (no offense to Mr. King), this was easily as good as anything his father has ever written. It was clear to me, however, that this book reflected the author's own style and voice, not his father's.

I will admit I found the ending a bit frenetic and somewhat fantastical, but again, it IS a horror novel, and after all the buildup, it could hardly be something as easy as "the bad guy got his, and they all lived happily ever after". As the song goes and as Hill's characters ultimately discovered, you can't always get what you want, but you get what you need. In this case, that goes for the reader, too.

Despite a few flaws, this one is going on my keeper shelf, and unlike many second novels, I think this one was far better than Hill's first (A Heart-Shaped Box).

Here, There and Everywhere

The first quarter of 2010 is almost gone, and I find myself busy planning the rest of my year before it gets away from me. I've got several trips scheduled, but before I say when and where, I want to point out to any Internet burglers or bad guys that my house will NOT be empty while I'm gone! I have a full-time housesitter, a neighborhood watch, an alarm system, a very loud dog and two hissing, spitting, extremely territorial cats for you to deal with!

The next three months are just the usual family stuff (birthdays, out-of-town relatives, a college graduation) plus some writing deadlines I cannot miss: Book #1 in the new series is due April 1st, and I will have to immediately begin work on Book #2 to have it delivered by the end of the year. In between I'll be doing A) revisions B) copy edits C) back cover copy and D) proofing of galleys for Book #1, then start the process all over again for Book #2.

I am, however, planning a week at the beach to relax and regroup in mid-April, and cannot WAIT to watch the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico with a drink in my hand!

July will be busy, as I will be flying out to Denver for the RomCon Conference, a three-day readers/writers extravaganza, during which I will sign books, chat with readers, and participate in such delightful silliness as "Speed Date An Author" or play a game of "Were-Squares" (in which two reader teams go head-to-head attempting to detect which werewolf & shape-shifter authors are telling the truth and which are lying through their canines). Sounds fun, doesn't it? Before the conference, I'll be spending a few days exploring the Rocky Mountains, which I've always wanted to see but never have.

Home for two weeks, then I'm off again, this time flying to Nashville for the annual Romance Writers of America Convention, being held in the world-famous Gaylord Opryland Hotel, July 28-31st. I'm flying out early then, too, so I'll have extra time to spend with writing pals I don't get to see any other time of the year. This conference is the biggie of the industry: workshops, meetings, multiple booksignings, meetings with agents, editors and other industry professionals, and the ever-popular RITA and Golden Heart Awards. (Can't wait to see who wins this year!)

August will find me re-grouping and working hard to finish Book #2 before jetting off to London in September for a real vacation... we'll be staying with friends in Cambridge and plan to do the "tourist thing" to the fullest, exploring the great cities of London and Cambridge as well as venturing out into the surrounding countryside to check out Hampton Court, old abbeys, stone circles and life in Merrye Olde England. (Maybe I'll be inspired enough to write a classic historical like The Scarlet Pimpernel, hm?)

October will be full as well, as I'm planning on going all out again this year on my annual Halloween festivities, including a fundraiser for a local children's charity, but before the ghoulies and ghosties arrive, I'll be attending yet another conference, Necronomicon 2010, a science fiction, fantasy and horror convention being held in St. Petersburg, FL, Oct. 22 – 24th. I've never attended a conference like this one before, but it promises to be fun: panels, workshops, costume parties and ghoulishly themed get-togethers like the Eye Scream Social, a Scavenger Hunt, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog and something called "Filking", though I have no idea what that is! I only hope I don't get eaten by a zombie (or a grue) while I'm there.

By the time November and December roll around, I plan on being exhausted, yet will still have to make it through the holidays - Thanksgiving and Christmas will be right around the corner!

And there you have it, my year in a (very long) nutshell. There may very well be some other events and activities that arise. I'll keep you posted!

Vampires Read, Too - The Story Behind The 69 Eyes and Dead Girls Are Easy

It's no secret that I'm a fan of Finnish glam/goth rockers, The 69 Eyes. A friend sent me a link last year to the "Live At Tavastia" videos on YouTube, and I was hooked. I friended the band on MySpace, and to my surprise, got a reply directly from Finland's Prince of Darkness himself, their lead singer, Jyrki69 (Jyrki Linnankivi). It's pronounced "Yurkee", if you're wondering. :-)

You see, I hate to blow the band's badass cover, but they're actually a bunch of really nice guys, and Jyrki was dropping me a note to tell me that he'd read my books, and that one of them had provided a little inspiration for a song he'd written for their new album, which they were working on at the time. He didn't tell me which one, and I didn't ask, because he evidently wanted it to be a surprise. Since I've never been one to peek at presents before they're given, I was happy to wait and see what happened next. We corresponded a bit, which was very nice, and I learned a lot about Jyrki and the band in the meantime: gold-selling artists with a career that's spanned over 20 years, fan clubs in just about every country in Europe, and still the original group of guys who have yet to burn out and fade away. Jyrki himself is a well-read, articulate, art aficionado with a degree in Chemistry and a "Young Person of the Year" award for his work with Unicef. (I don't know why I even bother to write fiction, because THAT is just the kind of stuff you can't make up, people!)

At any rate, the wait was worth it. The debut single from their current CD, Back In Blood, was titled DEAD GIRLS ARE EASY and it was simply awesome, as is the rest of the album. The song was then turned into a music video, which debuted this summer on Playboy.com. You can see it, and listen to it, right here.

The Eyes then took the Australia, the US, Europe and the UK by storm with a follow up tour promoting the new CD, during which I got to meet them all in person. I posted all the pics on my blog back in October when it happened, but this, of course, is my favorite one - Jyrki and me, with Jyrki holding up a copy of Dead Girls Are Easy, which all of the band members signed.
While they were in Croatia during their tour, they did several interviews with the local media, and here, for the first time, is Jyrki telling the story of how he found the book in a bookstore, thought the title was cool, and bought it. The Croatian to English translation leaves a bit to be desired (through no fault of the lovely Ivy Sataic, who conducted the interview - it's more of a Google problem), so I'll reprint the portion about the book right here:

IVY: And when we talk about art we cannot bypass books, which leads us to the song "Dead Girls Are Easy" after the same named book. What attracted your attention in the book to name the song after it?
J69: I get inspired in many ways. It can be the name of the movie or it can be a painting or picture in the magazine. Something that just got my attention. So one of these days I was walking around the book store and I noticed the Dead Girls Are Easy book and was like, "Wow! The title is cool." I bought the book. Then at the same time we were writing new music, so that title really fit as a song. Later on I had to think about what the hell that could mean as the song obviously is not the straight reference to the book. I actually have all Terri Garey's books, which is pretty cool stuff, and I can't wait if they're made into movies. But I mean, in general, Dead Girls Are Easy was a really cool expression and I just started to think what it could mean and what it could mean as a chorus in a song, so I started to build it up like that.

So there you go. Truth really IS stranger than fiction, in SO many ways.

I love The 69 Eyes--for their music (their drummer, Jussi, puts Tommy Lee in the shade, and all three of their guitarists, Bazie, Timo-Timo, and Archzie, are masters of the craft) their originality, their showmanship, and their kindness. As Jyrki pointed out in yet a different interview, good guys can wear black, too. :-) Buy their CD, and get bitten!

The Addams Family - A Musical

I'm not much for musicals, but this is one Broadway show I wouldn't mind seeing! I loved and adored the Addams Family - Gomez, the creepy but adoring father, Morticia, the sexy but loving mother, and irrepressible Uncle Fester, oh my! I will even admit to having a strange crush on Lurch, the zombie-like, monotone behemoth of a butler. I wanted Thing (a disembodied hand) to live in a box in my bedroom, and I wanted to brush the hair of Cousin It (even though I couldn't understand a word he was saying).

What's tipped me over to the musical side here though is not so much that I loved the TV show, but the Broadway version's casting is PERFECT: Nathan Lane as Gomez and Bebe Neuwirth as Morticia. For those who don't recall, Bebe Neuwirth played cold, controlling wife Lilith in one of my all-time favorite sitcoms, Frasier, and Nathan Lane was absolutely brilliant as an over-the-top drag queen in one of my favorite movies, The Birdcage. Not only do they both look the parts of Morticia and Gomez, but they're wonderful actors, and anybody who knows me knows my opinion that casting is everything.

I'm buried under a deadline at the moment, but I'm definitely considering a trip to New York for this one!

A Beautiful Cause, A Beautiful Day

Thought I'd post a few pictures from the Walk To Defeat ALS, which I participated in this past Saturday. It took place downtown near the river, and the turnout was fabulous, as was the beauty of the day. While it was sad that all of us were there because we'd lost family members to this horrible disease, it was extremely uplifting to know that we were there to make a difference, to hopefully keep future families from going through what we all went through.

Several hundred of us walked in a long line, laughing, chatting and appreciating that we could do what our loved ones no longer could (even when they were alive), which is WALK. Walking is something we all truly take for granted. I try to do it every day for my health, but it's also a great way to unwind and enjoy life.



This final shot is of my wonderful brother-in-law, his lovely wife (my sister), me, and my sweet husband. I think my mom would've liked it, don't you?



Thanks so much to everyone who came out and participated! And the rest of you? Go out and take a walk!!

The Man Your Man Could Smell Like

I saw this commercial for the first time last week, and it's got to be one of the most effective, clever (and hilarious!) commercials I've ever seen. Not only did the name of the product itself stick in my head (which supposedly doesn't happen until you've been exposed to an ad a minimum of seven times), but it worked! I'm going to buy some for my husband (he won't use it, but I'm going to buy it anyway, just to see how it smells). Way to go, Old Spice, for figuring out how to motivate women into buying an exclusively male product!



Personally, I've never been an Old Spice kind of girl - I prefer the smell of Calvin Klein's "Obsession" for men - but I know how important smells can be in evoking memories and feelings. My first boyfriend wore English Leather, and to this day I can't smell it without thinking of him.

So here's the obvious question, ladies: What does YOUR man smell like? :-)

London Calling...

Clash - London Calling download at emp3

(Hit the play button before reading this post. It's more fun that way.) "London Calling' by The Clash is one of my "oldie-but-goodie" favorites, and it's particularly appropriate today for two reasons:

1) I just got off the phone with one my dear friends who lives in Cambridge, just outside of London, and
2) I have plane reservations to go there in September! Woot!

Yes, the hubby and I are going to do the "American Not-So-Much-Werewolves-As-Tourists in London" bit, and are flying in for 10 days of sightseeing, fish-n-chips, and a bit of 'God Save The Queen". No doubt we shall be gobsmacked and chuffed to bits by our visit (that means amazed and thrilled), and shall do our best not to get too knackered and arrive tickety-boo (that means not too tired and with no problems).

Don't you just love the way British speak? I do.

So, off we go, and Bob's your uncle. (And that's that!)

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.