Wednesday, 31 October 2012

All Hallow's Eve Tales of Horror

Happy Halloween Everyone!

I have been on this weird creepy high all day and why? Because I LOVE halloween. The music, the colours the history...the MACABRE. I love death and blood lust and all those creepy things that people tend to associate with Halloween.

Tonight I'll be out at the Calgary NaNoWriMo Kickoff so I can't do my usually movie marathon but it usually includes:
  • Clue
  • Ghostbusters
  • Hocus Pocus
  • Labyrinth
  • Legend of Sleepy Hallow (the Johnny Depp one)
  • Scream
  • The Amityville Horror (the original)
  • Halloween
  • The Witches
  • Trick r Treat
I love the silly movies just as much as the horror ones. It's always a tie between Trick r Treat and Scream for my favourite.

Anyways, the point of this article is to present you with a little treat; some macabre stories. I've got a small collection of stories that I've written over the past few years all with a darker theme to them. You can find them in the 'Short Stories' tab up there ^  (though not all of them are scary)

My favourite one so far (and the one I'm going to share with you) is called 'Dollhouse' and I wrote it for Friday the 13th back in July. My other two favourites are 'Gore' and Flashback'.

Omar Blog Tour

Monday, 29 October 2012

Monday Fables #5: If You Could Only Know

Happy Monday everyone, I'm back with another Monday Fable. This week I'm going to be trying something knew - not just for the short story.

I'm going to start talking about other things on the blog like books and writing tips and crazy random stuff that comes up along the way. So starting wednesdays I'm going to be talking about books - books I've read, books I'm looking forward to, Author Interviews etc.

Fridays, I'm going to be talking about writing - not necessarily my writing - but tips and articles that I've stumbled across that I think deserve a read through. The next four fridays, however, are going to be devoted to NaNoWriMo because that starts on Thursday (yikes). If you don't know what that is check out all the details here and you can be my buddy here.

This week's fable isn't a song at all actually, it's a Spoken Word or Poem (it's described as both) by the gloriously macabre Emilie Autumn. So instead of writing a story, I wrote a little poem/spoken word piece. It's called 'I Don't Believe You'.

Sunday, 28 October 2012

Liebster Award Nomination

YAY! *throws streamers alone* I have been nominated for the Liebster Award.

So the darling ladies at BOOKSSESED! have nominated me for the Liebster Award and my first reaction was: hooray!...what is that? So of course I asked the internet. And I found a blog post about how the Liebster is sort of chain mail for bloggers where you nominate blogs with less than 200 followers and they nominate five and those five nominate five and *I think* the purpose is to spread some love (and some recognition).

Liebster, in German, means 'Dearest' which I find very precious and sweet so I choose to believe that what I think of the Liebster award is correct. So, on to the task(s).

Wednesday, 24 October 2012

Blog Tour of Oracle of Delphi by Diantha Jones

Prophecy of the Most Beautiful

Oracle of Delphi #1

By Diantha Jones

Synopsis: She has a destiny so great that even the gods fear her.

Constant hallucinations and the frequent conversations with the voices in her head, have earned eighteen-year-old Chloe Clever the not-so-coveted title of "Whack Job" in her home town of Adel, Georgia. With the onslaught of prescription medications and therapists threatening to push her over the edge, she wishes for a life far away from the one she has, a life where she is destined to be more than the butt of everyone's jokes and mockery.

Be careful what you wish for has never rung more true.

After living through an attack from her worst nightmare, she awakens to find herself far from home, surrounded by glorious riches and servants…and a few demigods who enjoy killing things. Upon learning that her favorite rockstar is an Olympian god, she is thrust into her new life as the Oracle of Delphi, the prophesier of the future, and the great Pythia that the gods have been anxiously awaiting to arrive for centuries.

Setting out to fulfill the prophecy she has been given and to keep her family safe from a demigod Princess that wants her dead, Chloe learns of how great she is to become, all the while fighting mythical monsters, evading divine assassins and trying to outwit the ever-cunning Greek gods who harbor secrets of their own.

In the hopes of discovering the Most Beautiful and the truth of her destiny, she strives to uncover the mysteries of the demigod Prince who has sworn to protect her with his life…and threatens to win her heart in the process.

Win a copy of Prophecy of the Most Beautiful

Diantha Jones and The Masquerade Crew are giving away 3 copies of her first book, Prophecy of the Most Beautiful. Enter for your chance to win.

Click HERE to go to the giveaway form.

Monday, 22 October 2012

Monday Fables #4: One Kiss

One Kiss - Sweetbox

Maybe I'm tired of being the strong one
Maybe my romatic sides taking over me, I don't know
In a single moment
You took over me and left me trembling and weak
And I just can't stay away

Just one kiss
One touch
Is not enough
Don't you feel the same
Your smile your look straight in my heart
Don't you want the same
Maybe I'm wrong but I can't get over this
One kiss
One touch
It's not enough
Oh, can't you feel the same... the same... the same

I never believed in finding the perfect love
I never believed that I would find something that I can't give up
But you made me shiver
When you took over me and left me trembling and weak
And I just can't stay away

Just one kiss
One touch
Is not enough
Don't you feel the same
Your smile your look straight in my heart
Don't you want the same
Maybe I'm wrong but I can't get over this
One kiss
One touch
It's not enough
Oh, can't you feel the same... the same... the same

Oh, don't you feel the same

The day had been long, grueling and finally, finally, the lights in the office had gone dim and she was the last person to leave. The window behind her cast a shadow of orange as he street lights from a story below invaded the night with its reminder that the days were getting shorter and her work hours were getting longer. The corner office with the view from both sides didn’t require half as much work as she was putting into it lately.
 Samantha sighed, taking a moment to stare through the glass doors of her prison and wonder what he was doing right now. It had been three months since she’d kicked him out telling him to get his life together and stay out of hers. She’d regret her words on nights like tonight when she worked until she was just tired enough to make it home and fall asleep without having to thinking about him and the things he’d promised her. And each day that passed, her resolve to keep him out of her mind grew weaker and weaker.
She breathed in again and the moment was gone; she began tidying her desk, stuffing papers in drawers and briefcases, clearing her throat to remind her to focus on the task at hand and not how the room suddenly smelt like him – vanilla and musk.
She didn’t hear him come in but when she looked up he was there, leaning against the door as though he’d always been there – as though he belonged there. Her heart was drumming in her ears, drowning out the voice in her head that told her to yell and scream and throw things until he left her alone for good. She paused in her stance half-standing in her chair and swallowed before gaining the courage to speak in a professional if not shaky voice. “Can I help you?”
Uncertainty danced in his eyes but a smirk played on his lips like he was going to play along if only to keep her from kicking him out again. “Yes, I was hoping you could help me find someone.”
“Could you describe this person?” She stiffened, holding her breath and trying desperately not to run into his arms.
His green eyes joined the cocky amusement on his lips, his confidence growing with every syllable that left his lips. He stocked towards her. “It’s this beautiful woman that I met two years ago. She started coming to my family’s restaurant for coffee every morning and we quickly became friends. She has red hair that just glows” his smile softened and she blushed but didn’t move “like a halo. And she has these eyes; like a sunset of colours that changes with every mood.” He came to the other side of her desk, standing just feet away from her and still she didn’t move. She watched him, his unprovoked confidence and the way he sat so casually on the end of her desk while she barely resisted the urge to throw something at him. The infuriating man.
“Of course I knew all that about her from the get-go, it was her personality that really attracted me though. Smart, charming, driven; not too funny but she’s hilarious when she’s drunk.” She rolled her eyes but the smile creeping on her face betrayed her. “And that smile, just lit up a room.” The smile faded from his eyes and the most interesting thing in the room suddenly became his shoes “it was impossible not to fall in love with her.”  And the room fell silent as the words seeped into her bloodstream and the buzzing spread through her chest. “And then three months ago” he looked up, the bright smile on his face, now more eager than she’d ever seen him “I kissed her,” she gasped at the wonderment in his voice “and it was wonderful. It was passionate and…perfect.” But when he looked at her, the wonderment was gone replaced with wallowing sadness that suddenly betrayed the sleepless nights he’d had that mimicked her own. “And then she kicked me out of her life and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since.” He shifted from his stance but didn’t step forward like he was aching to. “And now I just want to tell her that I’m sorry and that I want her friendship back. Can you help me?” The sincerity in his eyes broke her heart.
She couldn’t stand the moment of silence between them that passed and so she opened her mouth, having no clue what she was going to say to him. “I” she cleared her throat “I think that…the night you…kissed…her...she was scared, and drunk,” she swallowed again “but she really, really liked it.” His laugh of relief matched her own “and I think that scared her. And she did a very…romantic comedy, female thing by running away but I think that she’s almost ready to deal with her feelings.”
With a sudden burst of confidence he stepped into her space, meeting her eyes that were just above his in those power heels she’d taken to wearing. “And what are those feelings, exactly?”
She looked at him, his eyes, then his lips and she bit hers, remembering the warmth, the tingling sensations that ran like hot oil through her veins. Slowly, her arms came around his neck as her heartbeat slowed to normal, content. “I think she’s in love with a coffee boy.”
His arms came to her waist naturally, letting his body take over while his mind processed her words. When he came back to reality, he was kissing her, holding her just far enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin. She was responsive, leading, pulling him to her. Pulled against her chest he tightened the grip on her waist so they were intimately closer, sharing a heartbeat. She hummed into the moment, sending electric shocks through his fingertips that were suddenly alive and desperate to do something. One hand came lightly up her spine, their lips never truly parting except for a breath of air,  breathing each other in, the same heady scent she had missed so much, invading her nostrils and overwhelming her nervous system. Each kiss became slower and slower, drawing out the sensations, simmering against her skin where it was boiling and bubbling over before.
The buildup, the teasing visions that floated through her mind, sent her over the edge and she wrapped one arm around his shoulder, anchoring him to her as she gripped the back of his neck and pulled down. He had no choice but to follow her lead as she slipped out of her heels and sank down into the carpet, taking him with her. He gripped the edge of the desk to keep from falling but their lips never parted. Once he regained his balance, his hand returned to the small of her waist, dipping her lower until her knee came between his legs.
And then suddenly he was bending backwards, dragging her with him, lifting her onto his hips and spinning around until she was sitting on the edge of her desk, standing between her legs. Unwilling to let him gain the upper hand, she held his face in her palms, lifting up to wrap her arms around his waist and tug him that much closer. The blood was singing in her veins, melted down to liquid mercury, heavy and glowing through her body. Her heart pounding in her ears drowned any thought other than ‘finally’ and ‘why did I wait so long to do this again’.
He bent her over the desk so she fell back onto her elbows, dipping and leaning until he was nearly on top of her, and still their lips barely parted.
“Miss Christianson- oh I’m so sorry miss.” Samantha’s head hit her desk as she collapsed backwards, trying her hardest to listen for any of the other cleaning staff over the drums beating through her head. Meanwhile, he was collapsed on her chest, the weight of him, reminding her of where they were and what they were doing – and just how good it felt.
“Oh my god,” she breathed out, playing with the ends of his hair subconsciously.
He suddenly came into her line of site, hovering above her with that ridiculous grin plastered on his face “yeah.” He just looked so delighted, not just pleased with himself but genuinely happy, that she couldn’t resist lifting up for another kiss. But he pulled gently laid a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back before the last of his resolve was broken. “Maybe we should”
“Take this somewhere else?” Her grin matched his now and the warmth that spread through her was more potent than anything that she’d experienced in the last few minutes.
When neither of them moved she sunk into a smile “you gotta get off me first.”
“Right, right.” He shook his head, climbing off the desk and offering his hand to her. She took his hands as he lifted her off the desk and into his arms, pulling her in for one last kiss. “You know, this is not what I expected when I came here tonight.”
“Well this is what you get.” She winked at him as she slipped back into her shoes, making a half-assed attempt to rearrange her desk but gave up. “Are you going to take it?”
His hand snuck around her waist, pulling her flush against him “oh I’ll definitely take it.” He kissed her again. "Let’s get out of here.” She couldn’t stop smiling.

Monday, 15 October 2012

Thursday, 11 October 2012

Behind the Curtain: Flash Fiction Contest

So, the lovely Anna Meade provided a flash fiction contest entitled "Behind the Curtain". There was a limit of 400 words and it had to surround the theme "behind the curtain" or the world backstage. Being a theatre junkie and a kid who grew up backstage I jumped at the chance to have a little fun. And with NaNoWriMo just around the corner what better time to stretch my writing mind? So here we go.

Monday, 8 October 2012

Monday Fables #2: Something to Talk About

And we're back with another episode of Monday Fables. At exactly 1,000 words, I rather enjoyed this little cutie here. A little to the point but I like it. Leave a comment below and let me know what you thought.

Wednesday, 3 October 2012

Love Bites: Scandalicious Blog Entry

As a challenge from a fellow blogger, I'm posting my attempt at supernatural smut.

The challenge was to write a 2,000 max. lust-filled scene involving something to do with the supernatural as it IS October, the self-proclaimed month of scary, macabre-ness (my favourite). So I wrote a 1900 word story entitled Love Bites though it isn't about vampires.

Monday, 1 October 2012

Monday Fables #1: Falling

Falling – Marina V

One night in Greece made me feel so complete and divine
Soft summer breeze floated in from the sea whispering you are mine
The wind told lies
'Till the morning light
Over and over I'm falling
Spinning in circles and begging for you
Over and over I'm falling
Slipping with no one to hold me
I'm falling down

Leaves falling down and my grey rainy town seems so dead
Don't know your name yet still I keep on wishing for yesterday
I'd give my life
For just one more night

Each night I dream of the breeze from the sea
And I still feel the touch of your hands
Can I escape from the grey autumn day
And return to the night we once had?
I don’t know what I was doing at that party; or what I was doing in that ridiculously tight outfit that made me look like a desperate stripper and feel like a package of salami. This is what I get for listening to Jamie, I grumble as I pull my skirt further down – again – and press my way through the crowd of drunk, overzealous college students ignoring the fact that they aren’t at home. Seriously, you cannot put your tongue there if you are in a public place; not that the perv watching them from the stairs seemed to mind. The whole place smelt like stale beer and sweat pouring from every miniscule empty space and the music pounding from the other room was vibrating through the walls of the house, shaking the foundation to the core. If this was what I had to look forward to next year I wasn’t sure I wanted it. Any of it. I just needed to find Jamie and we could get out of here before my parents figured out that we weren’t at the library studying. Oldest story in the book and they still bought it.
I squeezed my way through a mosh pit of dancers grinding to the pounding beat of the base, the music too loud to hear any sort of logical rhythm. If Jamie was anywhere, she was in the middle of a smelly, groping group of barely adults who were too drunk to figure out who or what they were touching. I ended up in the hallway leading to the washrooms – or I assumed that’s what the line was for considering it consumed the entire hallway – and I quickly found myself between a rock and a hard place. Or, more specifically, a wall and a college freshman.
“Hey baby, you are looking fine tonight.” I rolled my eyes but kept my back to the wall as he ran one hand down my side and kept the other holding his red solo cup. “I want to go somewhere else for a private party?” At least he asked.
“No thanks I’m good.” I slid along the wall hoping to get to the end before he did anything worse than breathe on me.
He grabbed hold of my hip and thrust his body against my back; I closed my eyes “oh come on baby, just one little dance huh?”
“I said-” I tried to turn but he held me down, his lips latching on to mine before I could finish my sentence. His tongue fought his way through and roughly stroked mine as I turned my head, cutting him off. He grabbed my neck and turned me back to him.
“Listen you little bitch”
“Really, Greg? Give it up, you’re not getting lucky tonight. Not that you could get it up anyways.” I glanced over my shoulder at the white knight invading the villain’s face, casual and calm like he did this every day. Oh god. But it worked. The evil frat boy released my neck with a flourish and stepped back, rolling his eyes.
“Whatever man, you can have her.” My eyes widened at the thought but when I looked at my savior he was smiling back at me, gentle and calm. I smiled back.
“And then what happened, mom?” I was brought out of my day dream by my eight year old, bright blue eyes and braids, leaning against the kitchen counter while I recounted tales of my childhood. Horror stories to keep my daughter from making my mistakes.
“Then I went home and didn’t do anything like that ever again.”
“Yeah right.” She grumbled.
As punishment for knowing me too well I threw a handful of flour in her hair. “Oh yeah, you think so?”
“Daddy told me about senior prom.”
“Oh he did not.”
“A motorcycle, mom?”
“It was the eighties.”
“Anyways,” does she get that eyeroll from me? “What happened to the guy who rescued you?”
“He did not rescue me he” she tilted her head impatiently “okay so he rescued me.” And I slipped back into wonderland “his name was Darren and he was a college freshman. After he ‘rescued me’ we went to the couches and after pushing some teenagers off, we sat down and talked.”
“Is that code of ‘made out’?” She scrunched her nose and I had to laugh.
“Usually but no, not this time. We just sat and talked; and danced. And I fell in love just a little bit.” I probably sighed but I was too far gone to realize “But after that night, I never saw him again.”
“You didn’t look for him?”
“I thought about it but I didn’t know his last name and I didn’t think it was worth it. Sometimes, saying goodbye is the right thing to do. And I never regret meeting him or never finding him.”
“But now you love dad, right?”
I smiled, brushing her bangs from her eyes. She needed a haircut. “Now I love your dad very much.”
She was silent for a moment so I resumed my task of baking fourteen thousand cookies for her school bake sale but I knew she had more questions. “Mom, what would you do if you met Darren again?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I would say hello, greet his lovely wife and then thank him…for saving me all those years ago.” I regretted a lot of the things I did in my youth but that was one mistake I would be okay with my daughter repeating.