Influential Observation with Catherine Cavendish

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An Elford Childhood, Catherine Cavendish, Dark Observation, Doris Buttery, Elford, Flame Tree Press, Horror, New book, writing

My Greatest Influence BY Catherine Cavendish

Since I’ve been fortunate enough to be a published writer, I have met many others and once of the first things I discovered is that I wasn’t alone in having been the nerdy schoolgirl who used to inwardly cheer when our English teacher would set us an essay to write for homework. I especially hugged my inner creative embryo when we were given no clear parameters as to what that essay would centre on. Sometimes it would be a line from a poem which could be interpreted in a myriad of ways. On other occasions it would be an emotion we had to express – be it joy, sorrow or whatever. All around me, my fellow students would groan while I wanted to do that Mary Tyler Moore thing with my (ridiculously old fashioned) school hat.

For decades I believed I was the only one who ever felt like that. What a relief to discover I wasn’t.

I should have realised it really though because while there have been and still are a host of people I count as influences on me and on my writing, there is one who stands head and shoulders above the rest.

Her name was Doris May Buttery. She was born on 23^rd October 1920 and passed away on 13^th March 2018 – and Doris was my Mum. She loved to write.

When I was a little girl and, okay, I’ll say it first, that was a long time ago, one of my enduring memories is of Mum sitting at the dining room table, her pencil sharpened, lost in her own world as she busily transcribed memories of her childhood, growing up in a small Staffordshire village between the two world wars, onto sheets of lined foolscap paper. 

While Mum wrote, I would play with my dolls or my cat, Penny. I would make up stories, read, let my imagination run free…

And day after day, once her chores were done, Mum would write. She had a small win on the Football Pools and used to it to pay for a creative writing course where she learned the art of short story writing. I still have at least some of those stories. They were fiction but always, somewhere, there lurked a grain of truth. Invariably set in the 1920s or 1930s there would be a character in there that I would later come to identify in her memoirs. Sometimes she would write about a scandal that I would later discover had actually taken place – although the names and some identifying details had all been changed.

I can’t remember exactly when she stopped writing. But for years, maybe a decade or more, the pencils and foolscap were put aside only for her to return one day and pick up where she left off. This became a pattern. Days and weeks of daily writing followed by months and years of none. From her childhood she moved onto recollections of the war years 1939-1945 when she served in the Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS) – the British women’s army of the time. Sadly, she didn’t get too far with these but the account of being a naive eighteen-year-old office girl joining up (against her father’s wishes) immediately casts the reader back to those far off years. Mum could certainly create atmosphere and a sense of time and place in her writing.

Meanwhile, I had caught the writing bug. Watching her may have been the catalyst, or perhaps it was simply because she enjoyed it. Some of those school essays of mine grew into short stories; one eventually morphed into a novel. Mum encouraged me while my father considered my desire – at around eight or nine years old – to purchase a portable typewriter as a complete waste of time and money. I bought my typewriter, selling a number of toys in order to do so. The rest, as they say, is history.

After Mum passed away, I found the folder I knew existed and opened it. There were Mum’s childhood memories. These eventually became a published book An Elford Childhood .

Mum never ventured down the path of supernatural, ghostly or scary stories. Nor did she attempt a crime story – although in her later years especially, crime fiction was by far her preferred genre. She did, however, tell me that she had always enjoyed a good spooky book when she was younger so maybe that’s where I get it from. I also enjoy crime – real or fictional and Agatha Christie was a shared passion of ours.

Mum left me a legacy of a love of reading and writing, history and cats. Wherever she is now, I hope she is enjoying a good book, with a cat purring on her lap, a notebook and pencil by her side and a nice cup of tea.

As for my latest? Well, I hope Mum would approve. There is an awful lot of her in one of my main characters – Vi  – and then of course there’s her hero,Winston Churchill, those secret underground war rooms and…

Eligos is waiting…fulfil your destiny

1941. In the dark days of war-torn London, Violet works in Churchill’s subterranean top secret Cabinet War Rooms, where key decisions that will dictate Britain’s conduct of the war are made. Above, the people of London go about their daily business as best they can, unaware of the life that teems beneath their feet.

Night after night the bombs rain down, yet Violet has far more to fear than air raids. A mysterious man, a room only she can see, memories she can no longer trust, and a best friend who denies their shared past… Something or someone – is targeting her.

Dark Observation is available here:

Flame Tree Press

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Waterstones

Bookshop.org (where you can support your favourite local bookshop)

and at good bookshops everywhere (on the shelf or to order)

About The Author

Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Catherine Cavendish is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels and novellas.

Her novels include: Dark Observation, In Darkness, Shadows Breathe, The Garden of Bewitchment. The Haunting of Henderson Close, The Devil’s Serenade, The Pendle Curse an Saving Grace Devine.

Her novellas include: The Darkest Veil, Linden Manor, Cold Revenge, Miss Abigail’s Room, The Demons of Cambian Street, Dark Avenging Angel, The Devil Inside Her, and The Second Wife

Her short stories appeared in a number of anthologies including Tomes of Terror, One of Us and Haunted Are These Houses.

She lives by the sea in Southport, England with her long-suffering husband, and a black cat called Serafina who has never forgotten that her species used to be worshipped in ancient Egypt. She sees no reason why that practice should not continue.

You can connect with Cat here:

Catherine Cavendish

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Goodreads

Images:

Shutterstock

Nik Keevil and Flame Tree Studio

Author’s own

In print and in deepest Berkshire….

Tags

Berkshire, Bisham Abbey, Black Wolf Books, Catherine Cavendish, Elizabeth Hoby, ghosts, haunted Berkshire, Loving ady Lazuli, Shaw House, Shehanne Moore, the Chandos Bride

 

Dark Doings in Deepest Berkshire – with Shehanne Moore

 

Catherine Cavendish….. ‘My guest today is historical author Shehanne Moore. I love her books, which combine adventure with feisty characters, humour and a flavour of the Gothic: ‘

 

   “As God is my witness, this property shall ne’er be inherited by two direct successors, for its sons will be hounded by misfortune.” 

                                                                                By Shehanne Moore.

As God is mine I must say I was heartily glad to read the following….

‘Berkshire is a place of mystery, myth and legend. The county abounds with strange tales of ghostly phantoms, ferocious creatures,

kings & knights, witchcraft, treasure and more.’

Why was I glad?

Because it’s never easy coming to the wonderfully chilling blog of Gothic horror writer, Catherine Cavendish. Certainly NOT when you write romance,  even when it’s slightly Gothic romance.  Thank you so very much Cat for inviting me. despite this.  

Not only is my recently re-released book Loving Lady Lazuli set in Berkshire where the heroine has gone to ground – phew- there was a ton of tales to choose from. 

I am glad to hear it. I thought you sort of chewed tails to bits, cut them right down the middle…  So it said online anyway–I mean about Berkshire of course– which was why I was initially drawn to the ‘most haunted’ Shaw House but the most interesting thing there I could find was the true story of how the Duke of Chandos took as his wife, a beautiful chambermaid who was being sold off by her husband in an inn yard with a halter round her neck.   (Something you hamsters dudes should try for size.)

Not just shades of Thomas Hardy’s, The Hamster…00OPS… Mayor of Casterbridge but proof that the business of dukes marrying what might be construed as women a universe  below their social status….as happens in Lazuli and Splendor and indeed in a hell of a lot of historical romance… is not as daft as all that.

 Moving on though, through covens of witches and headless men, I came to the story of Bisham Abbey…I guess apposite again as Barwych Hall in the book is based on Mount Grace Priory in Yorkshire.  However, the Bisham monks were so furious at Henry VIII for ‘dissolving them,’

 

they cursed the ancient building.  

And indeed…as in another follow through from the book, sort of anyway…the sons of Bisham’s many different owners didn’t just fall down dead, they were beheaded, they died young, they were killed in world wars—and, as in the case of young William Hoby, they had some help from their mama. In this case, the widowed Lady Elizabeth who had such high standards of education,  she not only beat young William to bits and locked him in the Tower Room to do his lessons all over again, she quite forgot, despite being so brilliant herself, that she’d done it, clearing off to Windsor for several days of dancing and banqueting. A very merry widow to all accounts.  After all, weren’t there servants for tiresome things like children after all? Hamsters too……

At least Lady Elizabeth thought so, so she was really quite astonished on returning home to find that everyone thought William was with her…. 

I think we all know what’s coming next.

But did William exist at all? There’s documented evidence for Anne, the Chandos’ chambermaid bride. But William? 

Well, firstly the fact that there’s no genealogical evidence to show he did exist, doesn’t always mean a thing. Not all records survive.  And the Hobys had other estates where his birth could have been recorded. 

“Proof” of William’s existence is sort of provided by the discovery in 1840, during renovations, of copy books containing blots on every page, corrections

by the ‘wicked lady‘ herself and the name, William Hoby. Alas, I say ‘sort of’ because these copy books sort of then disappeared. Maybe Lady Hoby stole them…? A bit like my jewel thieves in the book. 

However 1840 was the point where the son first became known as William. Till then he’d just been a nameless son, like you get these nameless, headless hamsters….oops, horsemen. Lady Hoby did indeed have a son…Francis…who died young in unknown circumstances, at the time she had remarried and her surname was then Russell. 

You pays your money you takes your chances, I’d say on truth and legend mixing to become one…or the other.

Whether or not Lady Hoby caused her son’s death as said,  the Abbey is known to be one of the most haunted houses in Britain, certainly the most haunted in Berkshire and that haunting is done by her apparently grief-stricken self, dressed in black lace and white, washing her hands  a la  Lady Macbeth.  

She tears curtains, throws things. But mostly she just sobs and leaves lights up in the Tower Room.. a bit like Silv in the purple hat there.  Some people think she causes the mists that wreath the Abbey and until 1936 she especially liked to come out for coronations.  

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little venture to the darker side and won’t be afraid to visit the Abbey… 

Talking ghosts… here’s the blurb for Loving Lady Lazuli.

  A woman not even the ghost of Sapphire can haunt. A man who knows exactly who she is.

Only one man in England can identify her. Unfortunately he’s living next door.

Ten years ago sixteen year old Sapphire, the greatest jewel thief England has ever known, ruined Lord Devorlane Hawley’s life by planting a stolen necklace on him.  Now she’s dead and buried, all Cassidy Armstrong wants is the chance to prove she was never that girl. 

But her new neighbor is hell-bent on revenge and his word can bring her down. So when he asks her to be his mistress, or leave the county with a price on her head, Sapphire, who hates being owned, must decide…  

What’s left for a woman with nowhere else to go, but to stay exactly where she is?

And hope, that when it comes to neighbors Devorlane Hawley won’t prove to be the one from hell.

And here’s a snippet from the bit where a past ‘ghost’, Gil,  turns up unexpectedly and proceeds to ‘haunt’ the supposedly dead and buried, Cassidy— further than she’s just been haunted this evening already.

Hastily she tugged a shawl round her shoulders—the first thing to take care of was the fact she faced him half naked, with her undergarments on the floor. Silk ones.

“So? What do you want?”

Apart from staring at her drawers and corset? Well, he was welcome. It was all he was going to get to do with them–whatever else happened here, whatever he’d said. Maybe she wasn’t going to be able to dominate this situation with them on the floor, as much as she’d like, maybe her options were as numerous as one-legged chickens, gathering the garments up would show she knew it.

“Nice that.” He dragged his gaze from her corset. “What did you just say?”

“What do you want?”

“Hmm.” He screwed up his face, stuck his thumbs in his waistcoat pocket, looked at the ceiling. “Well now, to quote Hamlet, by that fellow, what’s his name again, William Shakespeare and all that, that is the question. Whether it’s to suffer the there them slings of outrageous fortune, or, you know, take up arms and all them things what you take up, and do what you can, to actually end this protracted situation what you is in. Or is it, the them there stings of outrageous fortune? You know, I can’t remember. But, see, what I am hoping is that I ain’t going to have to end them. Thinking how awful that would be for certain for those concerned, see? You get a big soddin’ arrow sticking in your—”

“Jesus, Cass.”

“Evenin’ Rube.” He sniffed loudly. “Hope it’s a good ‘un.”

“It soddin’ was till yer soddin’ showed yer soddin’ ugly face.”

“Hmm.” He strolled around the copper tub, sniffing the stone cold suds. “Personally I think ugly sodding face is what you might call a better arrangement of the words. See, it has what you might call, a more them there poetic ring to it.”

“The only soddin’ thing I’d like to ring is—”

“Hmm. Well … Sure you ain’t alone there. Still, not to put too fine a point on it, not just you here, Rube, to bid a good and wondrous-to-behold, evening to. Pearl, Sapphire, jewels of the Orient. Here, don’t you think this is just like them olden days what we did have together, them happy times in … what was the name of that place again … Lanthorne Street?”

 

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com paperback

Amazon.co.uk paperback

Black Wolf Books. – Kara imprint

James Bond and the Dundee connection

Tags

Ba Cottage, Catherine Cavendish, Dundee, Glencoe, Hard to Protect, Ian Fleming, Incy Black, James Bond, James Bond and Dundee, Newport-on-Tay, Peter Fleming, Robert Fleming, Shehanne Moore, The wrath of the ancients, The Writer and the Rake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AH and aw in equal measures. Firstly AH because this the long awaited third book in the Hard To series featuring Incy Black’s own special Black ops. Aw, because she says trilogy although I hope that the exciting Freya Dervish will feature somewhere along the line in another book. No pressure there now Incy, just saying. Although I’ve read the other two books in the series, in many ways this book is a standalone.

In true spy honey trap tradition, Will Berwick, secret agent hot and complicated, is asked to seduce the secret of her brother’s whereabouts, from Dr Treherne, ice angel extraordinary. Not the best thing to ask him to do when she’s been evaluating him for months re his suitability to return to service.  Trust me when I say that you just know that in the not too distant future  Angel will be evaluating other aspects of his suitability because it’s plain they are under one another’s skins. However, Incy Black’s skill lies in keeping them at one another’s throats. This couple don’t give an inch for very personal reasons and it makes for great chemistry.  You want to know they will heal one another’s pain. A pain they don’t admit to. Add this to a plot full of twists and turns, Incy Black’s own unique voice,  and the result is explosive.

Catherine Cavendish, imaginary friends and serenading the devil

Tags

Catherine Cavendish, Horror, Imaginary friends, New book, Samhain Publishing, The Devil's Serenade

 

Imaginary Friends by Catherine Cavendish

When you were growing up, did you have an imaginary friend? Did they seem real to you? Maybe sort-of-real. You could talk to them, imagine their responses, play with them – but you probably kept the ‘relationship’ within certain boundaries, however young you were. In my case, I invented an entire family of siblings – three sisters (two older, one a few years younger) and an older brother who looked out for us girls. Being an only child, I found them comforting, and fun, but I never imagined them to be real. They, in turn, kept themselves firmly lodged in my own mind and never attempted to cross any boundary into the real world.

In my new novel, The Devil’s Serenade, my central character also had an imaginary family when she was a child. Scarily for her, they now start to appear in her real adult world.

Of course, my story is fiction, but there have been a number of accounts of small children making ‘friends’ with most unsuitable imaginary friends – who then cross the line.

 

One such story concerns a woman called Layla who lived with her four year old son, Ryan and her partner in a suburb of Stoke-on-Trent in England called Trentham. Although an only child, Ryan was a good mixer, socialising well with other children and enjoying a normal childhood. He had no history of talking to himself so his mother was surprised to hear him doing just that – quit loudly – as she passed his room one January evening.

On entering his room, she found her son sitting cross-legged on the floor. She asked him who he was talking to and he replied that he had a new friend, “Fred.” They had been talking. Ryan described his new friend as, “silly.”

Layla decided there was no harm in this new imaginary friend and left him to it. For the next few weeks, Ryan could often be heard chatting and laughing and his parents thought nothing more of it, putting it down to his lively imagination.

Then, one unforgettable night, Layla and her husband were woken by an earsplitting scream. It was Ryan.

They dashed into his room and found him curled up in the corner, white-faced, his hands over his face. Layla tried to comfort him, asking him what was wrong.

Ryan sobbed. He said Fred had got angry with him and shouted at him when Ryan said it was too late to play. Then Fred had screamed at him and scared him.

It took some minutes to calm the terrified little boy down.

The next day, Layla was cleaning out Ryan’s room while he was out with his father. She had a sudden urge to warn the imaginary friend and told him to keep away from her son. “If you ever scare my child again I shall have you removed. I will take Ryan to the doctor’s if I have to.”

She felt rather silly issuing such a warning to nobody, but a strange sense of satisfaction spread over her.

Ryan came home and went immediately to his room. Shortly after, he emerged and asked his mother why he had to go to the doctor’s. “Fred says you are taking me.”

Layla stared at her son, uncomprehendingly. How could Ryan have known about her tirade in his room? She had been alone in the house at the time and told no one else about it.

Ryan continued, each word chilling Layla’s blood. “He says you told him off today when you were alone. He says he’s sorry for shouting at me and he won’t do it again.”

Layla didn’t take Ryan to the doctor and, although Ryan continued to play with ‘Fred’ for some months, nothing further happened to make her concerned. Then, Ryan stopped playing with his imaginary friend altogether.

Forever afterwards, Layla was never able to explain how Ryan could have known about her warning to Fred. Ryan could throw no light on the matter either. It remained an unsolved, intriguing mystery.

 

 

Now, to give you a taste of The Devil’s Serenade, here’s the blurb:

Maddie had forgotten that cursed summer. Now she’s about to remember…

“Madeleine Chambers of Hargest House” has a certain grandeur to it. But as Maddie enters the Gothic mansion she inherited from her aunt, she wonders if its walls remember what she’s blocked out of the summer she turned sixteen.

She’s barely settled in before a series of bizarre events drive her to question her sanity. Aunt Charlotte’s favorite song shouldn’t echo down the halls. The roots of a faraway willow shouldn’t reach into the cellar. And there definitely shouldn’t be a child skipping from room to room.

As the barriers in her mind begin to crumble, Maddie recalls the long-ago summer she looked into the face of evil. Now, she faces something worse. The mansion’s long-dead builder, who has unfinished business—and a demon that hungers for her very soul.

Here’s an extract:

A large flashlight rested on the bottom stair and I switched it on, shining it into the dark corners. There wasn’t a lot to see. A few broken bits of furniture, old fashioned kitchen chairs, some of which looked vaguely familiar, jam jars, crates that may once have held bottles of beer.

The beam caught the clump of gnarled and twisted roots that intertwined with each other, like Medusa’s snakes. I edged closer to it, my heart thumping more than it should. It was only a tree, for heaven’s sake! The nearest one was probably the willow. Surely, that was too far away? I knew little about trees, but I was pretty certain their roots couldn’t extend that far.

I examined the growth from every angle in that silent cellar. The roots were definitely spreading along the floor and, judging by the thickness and appearance of them, had been there for many years. Gray, like thick woody tendrils, they reached around six feet along and possibly four feet across at their widest point. I bent down. Close up, the smell that arose from them was cloyingly sweet. Sickeningly so. I put one hand over my nose, rested the flashlight on the steps and reached out with the fingers of my free hand to touch the nearest root. It wriggled against my palm.

I cried out, staggered backward and fell against the stairs. The flashlight clattered to the floor and went out. Only the overhead bulb provided any light, and it didn’t reach this darkest corner. Something rustled. I struggled to my feet, grabbed the torch and ran up the stairs. I slammed the door shut and locked it, leaned against it and tried to slow down my breathing. A marathon runner couldn’t have panted more.

I tapped the flashlight and it flickered into life, seemingly none the worse for its accident. I switched it off and set it on the floor by the cellar door. Whoever came to fix those roots was going to need it.

 

You can find The Devil’s Serenade here:

 

Samhain Publishing

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

And other online retailers

About the author:

Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Cat is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories. She was the 2013 joint winner of the Samhain Gothic Horror Anthology Competition, with Linden Manor, which features in the anthology What Waits in the Shadows.  Other titles include: The Pendle Curse, Saving Grace Devine, Dark Avenging Angel, The Second Wife, Miss Abigail’s Room, The Demons of Cambian Street, The Devil Inside Her, Cold Revenge and In My Lady’s Chamber.

 

You can connect with Cat here:

 

Catherine Cavendish

 

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Tsu

 

How do my heroines’ gardens grow?

Tags

blogging, Book tour, Catherine Cavendish, Dark Avenging Angel, heroines, Jane Hunt, Samhain, Soul Mate Publishing, The Viking and The Courtesan, Time-travel, Vikings

 

Alright…alright dudes, can we get with the program here?

Dudes, that was last week. This week…

Dudes, that’s tomorrow, although we are all going to say HAPPY RELEASE DAY CAT, my fav horror writer.  May you rock the charts!

This week…. this week you are welcoming me.

Okay dudes… what did I say about the program?

Because I want to thank Elyzabeth M. Valey for letting me blog about the ‘Heeling power of shoes.’

http://inadreambeyond.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/shoes-shoes-and-shehanne-moore.html

And also Jane Hunt for not only interviewing Lady Malice, but reviewing her as well with a lovely review.

http://jolliffe01.com/2015/07/29/an-interview-with-lady-malice-shehanne-moores-latest-new-release-the-viking-and-the-courtesan/

Then there was Lady Fury and her invite…but perhaps the less said about that the better.  http://t.co/wdB8rxWAo7

What I would like to say is I have been  popping corks that it has got into the top 100 in Viking and also Ancient World Romance on both Amazons –  an absolute  first for me. I know cos the lovely Cat Cavendish and Jane Hunt told me.

Anyway, when I was battering the brain thinking of doing blogs for the blog tour and trying to make them all different–like shoving bamboo sticks under the fingers, when you are still in ’round’ edits and that release date is ticking like a time bomb,  I thought I would take some pictures of my four book jackets for promo.

no I never I said PROMO not PORNO, do clean your sweet little ears out. And that was what had gave me the idea of the posts about handbags and shoes and defining my heroines through their personal tastes.  It is important when you are writing NOT to churn out the same characters with the exact same traits after all.  They might share certain things in common.

They are different. SO I took each book jacket into the garden and  tried to photograph them where I felt my four ladies would prefer.

Lady Fury, I chose the decking. It has mirrors and she does like looking at herself. Then there’s the pot. Very handy for hiding a body in. Not that she hides her hubby in a garden pot. No. Why keep him in there when there’s a cellar with a box in it.

I gave Sapphire the remodelled patio… It’s next to a herb garden you see and she might use some of these herbs as a help with Devorlane Hawley’s opium addiction. Oh wait… she also buried a body…with his help, in a herb garden.

I gave Kara and the Wolf the loggia.

I figured it was preferable to his cave and they could eat and he could cook in comfort. But hey who knows?

Lastly I gave Sin and Malice the courtyard.  Malice is rather appalled by what Sin regards as the height of Viking advancement with pigs, chickens and ducks snorting in and out the house floor  and clucking about the yard   and at one point  thinks it will be nothing to get rid of them all, WHEN she finally gets her mitts into  Sin…. To quote the lovely Alison Lodge and her wonderful review, you can tell that will NOT end well.

I thought Malice  welcome somewhere devoid of these things in the first place.

I quite enjoy when I’m writing, fleshing out the kind of clothes, hairstyles, bags, shoes etc, my heroines have and matching them to their personalities. If nothing else it gives me something to blog about!

Oh, and  a Happy HAPPY  Release Day tomorrow Cat Cavendish. https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2015/07/12/nemesis-a-darkly-avenging-angel-and-catherine-Cavendish/

Not a bosom was heaved in the writing of this book

Tags

Catherine Cavendish, Historical romance, regency Romance, Shehanne Moore, the Viking and the Courtesan. new release. New book, Time slip Romance, Viking, Viking Romance

 

 

http://www.catherinecavendish.com/2015/07/the-viking-and-courtesan-time-travel.html?spref=tw

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://amzn.to/1gz67YL

http://amzn.to/1O9sf7i

 

 

 

 

 

Blurb The Viking and The Courtesan

 

In 898 AD she wasn’t just from another land.

Wrecking a marriage is generally no problem for the divorce obtaining, Lady Malice Mallender. But she faces a dilemma when she’s asked to ruin her own. Just how businesslike should she remain when the marriage was never consummated and kissing her husband leads to Sin–a handsome Viking who wants her for a bed slave in name only?

She came from another time.

Viking raider Sin Gudrunsson wants one thing. To marry his childhood sweetheart. Only she’s left him before, so he needs to keep her on her toes, and a bed slave, in name only, seems just the thing. Until he meets Malice.

One kiss is all it takes to flash between two worlds

But when one kiss is no longer enough, which will it be?  Regency London? Or Viking Norway? Will Malice learn what governs the flashes? Can Sin?

Where worlds collide can love melt the iciest heart?

 

 

 

Nemesis -a darkly avenging angel and Catherine Cavendish

Tags

Agatha Christie, Catherine Cavendish, Dark Avenging Angel, Horror writing, Narcissus, Nemesis, New book, Samhain Publishing, Vengeance

 

 

Okay dudes, now today we are going to be nice and welcome our lovely friend

Cat and I do not write the same genres but I adore both her books and her. She’s been a  great support to me., a wonderful author friend.

We do indeed have books coming out at roughly the same time.

I’m going to be over on Cat’s lovely blog on Tuesday, talking about time travel, whether it’s ever happened or not, since my new heroine is a time traveller, but the link won’t be live till then…Tuesday that is…for all you time travellers out there.

http://www.catherinecavendish.com/2015/07/the-viking-and-courtesan-time-travel.html

it’s the first stop on  a blog tour.

Today it is my pleasure to invite  Cat here

with her amazing new book which is on my TBR pile and she’s going to blog about the Goddess of Vengeance and we are all going to listen nicely, not interrupting, not complaining. If you are good little hamstahs you will get to do something very special, which we will talk about later. Much, much later. In fact, this week some time. Now then…

 

Nemesis – Goddess of Vengeance – by Catherine Cavendish

 My latest novella – Dark Avenging Angel – is, as its title suggests, concerned with revenge. In this case, revenge of the most demonic kind. We’ve all heard the old adage, “Be careful what you wish for…”

Jane learns the truth of this in graphic ways.

 

Avenging angels and demons abound in the traditions and folklore of people all over the world. From ancient Greek culture comes the queen of them all – the Goddess of Vengeance herself – Nemesis.

Nemesis ensured that retribution was made for sins committed. Evil deeds and undeserved good fortune were roundly punished.

Rather like my dark avenging angel, Nemesis took account. But Nemesis’s purpose in life was to maintain equilibrium. She measured out happiness and unhappiness. If she judged you to be experiencing too much happiness, you could expect Nemesis to put a stop to it, by inflicting loss or suffering on you. As a result of her actions, she was regarded as a punishing and avenging divinity, often portrayed as a winged goddess, carrying an apple-branch, rein, lash, sword or balance.

 

 

Nemesis was also particularly active in matters of the heart. The ancient story of Narcissus is just one example. Narcissus was an especially beautiful boy from the Greek town of Thespiae, who made a habit of breaking the hearts of girls and young men who had the misfortune to fall in love with him. Significant among these was the beautiful Echo, who was cursed by the goddess Hera to only be able to speak the last few words of what had been said immediately before. When Narcissus spurned her, she faded away, until only her haunting echo remained.

But the trouble really began when a youth called Ameinias became highly distraught after Narcissus cruelly spurned him. Not content with merely fading away, Ameinias killed himself before Narcissus’s door. As he died, he called on Nemesis to avenge his death. She heard his call and caused Narcissus to fall in love with his own image as he gazed into a pool. He tried to touch the image, but of course, he never could. Unable to tear himself away from the object of his devotion, Narcissus slowly pined away. Other versions have him killing himself in despair. In both cases, his demise led to the creation of the flower that bears his name – created out of his life blood by nymphs. As far as Nemesis was concerned, balance had been restored and Ameinias’s death avenged.

 

 

Over the many centuries, Nemesis has been portrayed in countless guises in literature, theatre and film. The legendary crime writer, Agatha Christie, couldn’t resist at least two references to her. She named one of her mysteries Nemesis and has a character in A Caribbean Mystery refer to sleuth, Miss Marple, as his nemesis. The film, Star Trek: Nemesis turned out to be aptly named since it was not the box office hit that had been expected and was the last instance of the entire cast of Star Trek: The Next Generation appearing together on film. Maybe that franchise had been just a little too successful up until then, and an ancient Greek goddess decided it was time to redress the balance.

Now, to give you a taste of Dark Avenging Angel, here’s the blurb:

 Don’t hurt Jane. You may live to regret it.

Bullied by her abusive father, Jane always felt different. Then the lonely child found a friend in a mysterious dark lady who offers her protection—a lady she calls her “angel”. But that protection carries a terrible price, one to be paid with the souls of those Jane chooses to suffer a hideous and eternal fate.

When Jane refuses to name another victim, the angel reveals her most terrifying side. Payment must be made in full—one way or the other.

 And here’s a brief extract:

 Something had woken me from a deep sleep, troubled by my recurring nightmare in which I was in a wood, being chased by some unimaginable horror. I never saw its face, assuming it even had one. But I knew if I didn’t find sanctuary, it would kill me. I had just made it into the strange little house that always appeared in the clearing, when my eyes opened and I gasped at the white, smiling face looking down at me.

 That night, my angel seemed different somehow.

 Oh, she looked the same. Same black cloak, but this time it shimmered and I wanted to touch it. I was sure it would feel soft as velvet under my fingers.

 She put her finger to her lips and stroked my hair. Her touch was like a gentle breeze in summertime. My eyes wanted to close, but I forced them to stay open.

 I knew I mustn’t speak out loud, but I could still whisper. “I wish I knew your name. Who are you? Please will you tell me?” 

She continued to smile. Her lips moved, but the answering voice I heard was again in my head. Do not be afraid, child. It is not yet time, but soon you will have the power to avenge yourself on those who have done you harm. Look for me in the shadows and I will be there, taking account.

 I understood nothing of what she said. But, from somewhere, a calm I had never felt before emerged and wrapped itself around me.

 I blinked in the darkness as she faded from sight.

 Then I closed my eyes and slept. I never had that nightmare again after that night. But what if I’d known what was ahead for me? 

Some things are better off left in the dark.

 You can find Dark Avenging Angel here:

Samhain Publishing

Amazon Barnes and Noble 

Kobo

 

 About the author:

 Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Cat is now the full time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories. She was the 2013 joint winner of the Samhain Gothic Horror Anthology Competition, with Linden Manor, which features in the anthology What Waits in the Shadows.  Her novels, The Pendle Curse and Saving Grace Devine are also published by Samhain. Her novella – Dark Avenging Angel – will be published on August 4^th and her next novel – The Devil’s Serenade – will be released by Samhain in April 2016

You can connect with Cat here:

Catherine Cavendish

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Tsu

Interview With The Hamstah

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Catherine Cavendish, Renea Mason, Secret Hungers

 

 

 

http://secrethungers.com/author/secrethungers/

 

 

https://www.facebook.com/events/823582461018985/

 

How Horror-ible is the Cat?

Tags

Catherine Cavendish, Dracula, Edgar Allan Poe, Halloween, Horror, Horror fiction, Horror writing, Linden Manor, Night of the Demon, Samnhain Publishing, Saving Grace Devine, Stephen King, The fog, The Monkey's Paw, What Waits in the Shadows

 

 

Hey…hey..hey fellahs, what did we say about Hamstah Dicken’s manuscript? Are we going to bring out a picture of it?

EXACTLY.

 

 

Yes today as the Spooktacular continues

I’m thrilled to welcome  a real, live horror writer. AND, not just any old one but

——cos I do. And I also get to welcome a lady who has been on a roll this year, the super talented Catherine Cavendish who writes it the finest horror tradition.

What she drew in the Spooktacular was the seven questions. And since she writes horror, what else would they be about BUT horror.

1 Why do you write horror?

When I was a child, we read The Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs at school.

I could have only been about nine

I loved the way it scared me – deliciously. Then, when I was around twelve or thirteen, I started reading Dennis Wheatley – The Devil Rides Out, To The Devil A Daughter,

The Satanist and The Ka of Gifford Hillary were early favourites. I’d read in bed at night and be too scared to switch the light off! As the years went by, M.R. James,

Edgar Allan Poe, Daphne Du Maurier, Anne Rice, Stephen King and James Herbert were added to my authors of choice. Horror became one of my two favourite genres (along with historical fiction). So, when it came to my own writing, it is probably only natural I should want to attempt to reproduce on paper what I most enjoyed reading myself.

2 Ignoring the hamstahs, how would you describe your blend of horror?

My horror tends to be of the ‘creep up behind and scare you’ variety. While there can be violent scenes in my books, you won’t find many mutilated body parts or excessive gore. I think that’s because I tend towards the more traditional Gothic horror style. You will often find a creepy, haunted house or bleak, ancient landscape in my stories, but rarely (never so far) someone going on the rampage with a chainsaw!

3 Where do your ideas come from?

Anywhere or everywhere. A chance remark led to the title, and then plot of Cold Revenge; a spooky walk-in cupboard in our flat inspired The Demons of Cambian Street. A nightmare provided the basic storyline for Saving Grace Devin, and the inspiration for Linden Manor came from the competition brief supplied by Samhain Horror Publishing’s Executive Editor, Don D’Auria. When he announced that he was looking for entries for the Gothic Horror competition last year, he wrote, “Come with me into a world of isolated mansions, ruined castles, guttering candles, dark shadows, and of course…creeping horror…” I immediately thought of a house.

A dark, forbidding, Gothic pile of a house, set at the end of a broad avenue of lime (linden) trees. Then, an image of a mature student, researching ancient local nursery rhymes for her dissertation came into my mind, swiftly flowed by the opening lines of an odd little ditty, “Run and hide, Far and wide, Run and hide from the Scottish Bride…” A story was born.

If you look at the other winning novellas in the What Waits In The Shadows anthology– Blood Red Roses by Russell James, Castle By The Sea by JG Faherty and Bootleg Cove by Devin Govaere, you can see we all stuck to the brief!

4 Fav horror film?

Now, this is a tough one. I usually prefer the old films – frequently in black and white – so atmospheric. One I never tire of is Night of the Demon, adapted from a short story by M.R. James,

but I also loved the John Carpenter classic, The Fog and…it’s a pretty long list actually!

5 Fav horror story?

 

This is even harder! Pretty much anything by the authors I listed earlier, but I also love Susan Hill’s The Woman In Black among many, many others.

 

6 Fav interpretation of Dracula onscreen?

For me, Christopher Lee brought the right combination of gravitas and kitsch to the role.

7 Halloween plans?

Well, I’ve just had my broomstick serviced (it flew through its M.O.T.), my pointy black hat is back from the dry cleaners, and I’ve told all the spiders to build tidy cobwebs (you should see what happened when I gave them a cup of coffee!). So, let’s party! Bring your own cauldrons of course…

 

Four original novellas of Gothic horror! Enter if you dare four worlds of chilling Gothic horror. Feel the oppressive heat on a plantation in the Old South, where the spirits of the dead do not rest easy. Smell the salt air in a dilapidated coastal restaurant on the Chesapeake Bay, a restaurant with a very deadly past. Explore a British manor house, but remember, what you find may have been looking for you. Hear the pounding surf beyond the stone walls of a looming castle that shouldn’t even exist. But regardless of the setting, no matter what you may think you hear or see, the truly terrifying thing is…

 

…What Waits In The Shadows

 

Buy Links:

Samhain Publishing

Amazon

B&N

 

You can connect with Cat here:

Catherine Cavendish

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It’s Black Friday..with Catherine Cavendish

Tags

Catherine Cavendish, Georgia, ghosts, haunting, Horror, Poole Mill's Bridge, Samhain Publishing, Saving Grace Devine, the undead

 

 

 

 

Okay…okay… Firstly there is no It’s girl Friday today.

Incy Black, author of the fast and furious and fabulous Hard To Hold

has launched a wonderful  new feature

The Redoubtable Shehanne Moore

Sorry…that’s not what it’s called. It’s called

Fire Starters
Writers/Books that ignite that ‘something’ in me…

http://incyblack.weebly.com/blog-into-the-black/july-04th-2014

So, yeah I am blowing my own trumpet cos it’s damned good of Ince to do this and help me out when I’ve been kinda snowed under. I’m also going to be having a kind of week of Girl Friday on the themes, settings, characters  of my own books, kicking off  with a Scottish themed week on Monday for His Judas Bride,

 

 

That’s what you think….  What kind of hero, what kind of heroine, how action leads to reaction and drives the plot forward,  etc, etc, etc, so for today we are giving It’s Girl Friday a miss and  welcoming the lovely Catherine Cavendish….get off her neck…

Catherine has been here before but she is one talented lady and what’s more  has a new book out. Saving Grace Devine.

Let me tell you all you fans of horror, it’s a cracker. Right up the street of those who like that little bit of past mystery with their horror. Ooh, got the chills already.

So here she is. Par excellence. With a  very special creepy blog post.

I know……..

The Blue Girl of Poole Mill’s Bridge

By Catherine Cavendish

‘In my new novel, Saving Grace Devine, a young girl is drowned, but her spirit returns to haunt the lakeside where she met her untimely end. She seeks help from the living, to help her cross over to the afterlife.
From my research, it would appear that my fictional Grace is not alone. Many people have reported seeing ghosts of drowned girls who are all apparently earthbound. Searching for something, or someone. In need of help from the living to help them join the world of spirit.
So it is with this account – that of the mysterious and frightening Blue Girl of Poole Mill’s Bridge.

Situated in Forsyth County, Georgia, Poole Mill’s Bridge is set in a delightful location and is one of the few remaining lattice work covered bridges. There are a number of stories relating to hauntings there but that of the Blue Girl is probably the most persistent.

Back in the 1930s, on a burning hot day, a young family – mother, father and nine year old daughter -decided to take a picnic there. Enticed by the cool water, the little girl ran down to the creek to paddle. She ignored the calls of her mother to be careful and, what none of them realized was that recent heavy rain had made the creek much deeper than it looked. The child kicked off her shoes and socks and jumped into the water. Her screams sent her parents running down to the water but the strong current was already sweeping her away, into imminent danger.

 

In those days, a water wheel operated a grist mill there and the little girl was swept straight towards it. Her father dived in and, although he was a strong swimmer, he could not save her. He grabbed at the big blue bow on the back of her dress just seconds too late, as she was swept under the mighty wheel. Even the efforts of the mill workers weren’t enough to save her. They retrieved her lifeless body – her face as blue as the bow on her dress. The devastated couple left with her and never returned to the county. No one knew their names.

News of the tragedy spread quickly and soon strange stories began to emerge. People reported seeing a young girl dressed in her Sunday best in a pretty dress with a large blue bow. They would see her at the bridge, totally dry – except for dripping wet hair. Then she would vanish.

Years went by and a Vietnam veteran named Chuck Morse, down on his luck, happened to be sitting in a bar, when he got into conversation with a World War II veteran who showed him a large gold nugget he said his grandson had found up at Poole’s Bridge. Chuck could barely believe his eyes. By the size of it, the nugget must be worth thousands of dollars. When his companion told him there was allegedly much more where that came from, Chuck didn’t need any greater motivation. He wasn’t even deterred when the older man told him that the new park built on that site meant daylight digging was impossible without getting caught and that, at nighttime, people tended to leave it well alone. “Why?” Chuck asked.

The man told him of a friend of his – BJ Corliss – who had been up near Poole Mill’s Bridge and had seen a young girl, dressed in her Sunday best dress, not a wrinkle on it, but with wet hair. As he approached her, she vanished. Then she sprang up again not ten feet away from him. He saw the bluish tinge to her skin and ran for his life. Chuck had heard stories of the Blue Girl since his childhood. He wasn’t about to believe in such fairy stories. He laughed, paid the tab and left. The older man was insistent – BJ had told him no amount of gold would ever tempt him to dig there after dark.

Chuck started for home. An old man’s wild stories. Impossibly large gold nuggets. Couldn’t be real, could it? But if there was just one slim chance it was, his whole life could transform overnight. All he had to do was go up to Poole Mill’s Bridge and dig there. After dark. Then he’d find out one way or another.

Back home, he thrust pickaxe, shovel and any other tools he might need into the back of his old truck and drove off up to Poole Mill. First he had to find the remains of the now long-demolished grist mill – and the old millstone. He stepped over heavy stones, tripped and slipped into the cold water, bashing his leg against a rock. In pain and anger, he threw the heavy stone out onto the bank. Then he retrieved the flashlight he had dropped when he fell, and shone it into the water. Something glittered. But it wasn’t a gold nugget. He picked up a small, heart-shaped gold locket that must have lain buried under the stone that had injured him. As he examined it, his flashlight suddenly went out.

 

But behind him a strange glow he thought at first was moonlight, grew stronger. Then he heard a sound that chilled his blood. Tiny footsteps splashing in the water. He whirled around and saw the girl, glowing blue, dressed in her Sunday dress with her wet hair. He cried out in terror. “Please God, help me!”

The girl stared at him, her eyes sad and filled with longing. He realized he was rubbing the locket.

It’s hers. She wants it back, he thought. His fear almost paralysed him but, with a great effort, he held it out to her. She came closer and took it from him. Then she smiled. And vanished.

Despite his injured leg, Chuck raced up the hill and back to his truck. He never returned to dig for the gold. Plenty of others have – but no one has reported seeing the Blue Girl since. It seems that her locket was her only remaining link with her family. It must have come adrift during her terrible accident. Now she has been reunited with it, her reason for haunting is over.

But still those who have heard Chuck’s story won’t venture up there after dark.

Here’s a flavour of Saving Grace Devine:

Can the living help the dead…and at what cost?
When Alex Fletcher finds a painting of a drowned girl, she’s unnerved. When the girl in the painting opens her eyes, she is terrified. And when the girl appears to her as an apparition and begs her for help, Alex can’t refuse.
But as she digs further into Grace’s past, she is embroiled in supernatural forces she cannot control, and a timeslip back to 1912 brings her face to face with the man who killed Grace and the demonic spirit of his long-dead mother. With such nightmarish forces stacked against her, Alex’s options are few. Somehow she must save Grace, but to do so, she must pay an unimaginable price.
You can find Saving Grace Devine in all usual ebook formats here:

Samhain Publishing
Amazon.com
Amazon.co.uk
Amazon.ca
Amazon.com.au
B&N
Kobo

and in paperback here:

Samhain Publishing
About the author
Catherine Cavendish is joint winner of the Samhain Gothic Horror Anthology competition 2013. Her winning novella – Linden Manor – is now available in all digital formats and the print anthology will be published in October. She is the author of a number of paranormal horror and Gothic horror novellas and short stories. . Her novel, Saving Grace Devine, has just been published by Samhain Publishing.
She lives with a longsuffering husband in North Wales. Her home is in a building dating back to the mid-18th century which is haunted by a friendly ghost, who announces her presence by footsteps, switching lights on and strange phenomena involving the washing machine and the TV.

When not slaving over a hot computer, Cat enjoys wandering around Neolithic stone circles and visiting old haunted houses.

You can connect with Cat here:
http://www.catherinecavendish.com
https://www.facebook.com/CatherineCavendishWriter?ref=hl
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4961171.Catherine_Cavendish
http://twitter.com/#!/cat_cavendish