Ghost pirates and vanished ships. Gosh, it’s Halloween in…Italy.

Tags

Halloween, Halloween in Italy, Halloween recipes, Pirates, recipes, Romance, Shehanne Moore, The Unraveling of Lady Fury, writing

 

 

Dudes, can we kindly stop arguing, so you can get ready for the special Halloween party  that will be the culmination of all your work? You know the business of  asking each of my fictional couples about Halloween where they are from?

 

We are blogging Italy today because Lady Fury lives there for most of the book.

Fury and Flint hero and heroine from the Unraveling of Lady Fury  are here, so how about you roll with the questions?

 

Lady Fury : I thought you said they were funny, sweetly articulate creatures who would make every effort to ask us interestingly worded  questions?  

Captain Flint : I have been known to lie.

Lady Fury : And you said they weren’t aggressive?

Captain Flint : If I told you the reason I’m down to nine fingers and they bite worse than you, you would never have agreed to this.

Shehanne : Okay, dudes…. Before she strops off can we maybe have a question? Or better still an answer?

Lady Fury :  Putting aside the fact that there is trick and treating,  and talking historically, Italy celebrates All Saints on November 1^st and All Souls on November 2^nd.

It’s an ancient tradition that can be  traced back to Ancient Greece and it is celebrated differently from region to region. In some they leave an empty chair, in others, they light bonfires……

That is a picture of The Beans of the Dead biscuits, fave dei morti, an Italian biscuit, eaten at this time.  But since it involves using your pointer finger to make them and you are likely to have eaten those, I am giving you this other recipe instead because there are rules about these things.

 

My recipe card is, of course,  so much better than these other trashy heroines of Shehanne’s brought along to bore you with.

 

• 
• 
• 
• Excuse me,  are we doing this or not?

• Witches fingers

• 350g (12 oz) plain flour

• 1 teaspoon baking powder

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 100g (4 oz) whole almonds

• 1 tube red decorating icing

• Combine the butter, sugar, egg, almond extract and vanilla extract in a mixing bowl. Beat together with an electric mixer; gradually add the flour, baking powder and salt, continually beating; chill for 20 to 30 minutes.

• Preheat oven to 160 C / Gas mark 3. Lightly grease baking trays.

• Remove dough from fridge in small amounts. Scoop 1 heaping teaspoon at a time onto a piece of greaseproof paper. Use the paper to roll the dough into a thin finger-shaped biscuit. Press one almond into one end of each biscuit to give the appearance of a long fingernail. Squeeze biscuit near the tip and again near the centre of each to give the impression of knuckles. You can also cut into the dough with a sharp knife at the same points to help give a more finger-like appearance.
• 

Arrange the shaped biscuits on the baking trays.

• 
• Bake in the preheated oven until the biscuits are slightly golden in colour, 20 to 25 minutes.

• Remove the almond from the end of each biscuit; squeeze a small amount of red icing into the cavity; replace the almond to cause the icing to ooze out around the tip of the biscuit.

 

Captain Flint.  Of course we will be. Here’s the lanterns. Fury here sculpted them with her teeth,

Captain Flint : That’s a pity, I was going to leave them for your party. This one kind of reminded me of you guys.

 

If it had ears that is.

Lady Fury. Why don’t you shut up? You can see they don’t think it looks anything like them. We want to get back to the children,  alive.

Captain Flint  : This here’s the napkins.

Sorry.  You know, next to Fury, you’re my favourite critters. Of course I meant….

Lady Fury : And here’s something else from me. A little spell…..

Lady Fury :You know, I think I did that rather well. Now, do we have any spare boxes?

Just when you thought it was safe….Halloween in Scotland.

Tags

Ghost stories, Halloween, Halloween in Scotland, His Judas Bride, recipes, Romance, Shehanne Moore, treacle scones

 

 

 

The Black Wolf : Rough and violent. We carve up things to make lanterns.

The Black Wolf : In the old days it was turnips, or neeps, now it’s pumpkins. They’re so much easier to chop…..

Kara : Callm, they seem so scared of us. Do you think someone has said something about us to them? 

The Black Wolf : I can’t think what. I mean, I’ve killed everyone who might say something. From the 16th century in Ireland and Scotland, the festival included folks going about dressed up, reciting  verses, or singing a song. Nowadays it’s called trick or treating, or guising. We also have parties.

Kara ; Oh aye. We’re not savages you know. We  are very sociable. Fallon, Callm’s wee daughter plays knife throwing. She can hit a hamster at 20 paces. That was a joke by the way. Although she can. She takes after her father that way. No we play ducking or dooking for hamsters, I mean apples in a basin of water, and then there’s  the treacle game.  That’s where we hang a treacle covered hamster, sorry, scone,  on a string from the ceiling and you have to eat it with your hands tied behind your back as it swings back and forward.

 

The Black Wolf : Princess, did I ever tell you how scary you are?

Kara : When I went to the bother of getting the little sods a recipe?

 The Black Wolf :  You’re not exactly a cook. Anyway, they’d probably sooner spread treacle on your shoes and eat them.

Kara : Just the same. Here it is.

Treacle scones.

Ingredients:
8 oz self-raising flour (all-purpose flour with baking powder in USA)
2 oz butter
1 oz caster sugar (fine granulated sugar)
Half a teaspoon of cinnamon
2 tablespoons black treacle (molasses) or golden syrup (light corn syrup)
Pinch of salt
Approximately quarter pint of milk

Method:
Sift the flour and salt into a bowl and rub in the butter. Mix in the sugar, cinnamon, treacle or syrup and enough milk to make a soft dough. Knead this on a floured surface until it is both moist and elastic. Cut into rounds. For hanging, the rounds, need to be large and flat. Hamster Dickens sitting  on them as opposed to eating them would give the idea shape.

Grease a baking sheet (cookie sheet) and place the rounds on this. Brush with a little milk and bake for 10/15 minutes in an oven, pre-heated to 425F/220C/Gas Mark 7 until golden brown. Allow to cool on a wire rack and hang. covered in treacle,  voila —to quote by late father’s (courtesy of yourself Callm), French friend–  from the ceiling.

 

The Black Wolf. Better hamsters than you have asked me that. But gather round,

let me finish this with a Scottish ghost story about a man who did.

Several versions exist, but they all involve the Earl Beardie, thought to be the 4^th Earl of Crawford playing cards at Glamis  Castle. One of Scotland’s most haunted castles.

The clock struck 12. Midnight. It was now the Sabbath so no-one would play on.

The earl was angry. He said he would play with the very devil himself.

The door flew open. A tall man dressed in black walked into the room.

The stranger was, of course, the Devil, who won the nobleman’s most precious possession – his immortal soul. After his death, Earl Beardie was condemned to gamble with the Devil for all eternity. Often, at night, the sound of raucous play emanated from the fateful chamber.

Eventually, the occupants of the castle had it sealed up.

In the autumn of 1018…. Halloween, the Vikings and the dark elves

Tags

All Soul's Day, Halloween, Halloween recipes, October, recipes, Regency, Soul Mate Publishing, The Viking and The Courtesan, Viking Halloween, Vikings, writing

 

getty images.

 

Lady Malice : Not  a great deal. I’m not from Viking times.

Lady Malice: What is this? Twenty questions? Calculating how many pairs of shoes I can have from a hundred guineas is much more my forte.

Sin : Do let me help you out here, sweeting and let you get back to counting your shoes. Elves represent the souls of the dead that still reside in the world. The dark elves are those in purgatory, the fair elves are those souls  who are immortal .

Lady Malice : Elves wear such hideous shoes.

 Almost as bad as Viking ones.

Sin : I’m going to ignore that.

Also at the start of the winter…the date was later moved to All Soul’s Day… we hold a feast, and a sacrifice for a good season. An animal sacrifice.  Midwinter is  the time of ghosts and spirits, and more importantly of placating them after all. It’s nothing personal.

Sin : And we wear masks…. Animal masks…

Lady Malice : Sin, you scared them. They probably thought they were going to be the sacrifice or something…..  Well, never let it be said, we didn’t come bearing gifts for their Halloween party.

Masks.

  

A very special recipe….. Just the the thing to make them come back out of hiding.

Or maybe not……….

Blod Kaker (Filled Cake)   5 egg yolks 2 cups sugar 2 cups flour 1 tsp. baking powder 1 tsp. cold water   Beat egg yolks very thoroughly, until pale and thick.  Fold in other ingredients.  Bake in buttered cake pan for 1/2 hour.  Cut in 3 layers.  Moisten with sherry or lemon juice and water.  Fill with fruit, chocolate, or custard.  Cover with heavy coating of unsweetened whipped cream.

And of course because they are my favourite things after you my dearest, some Halloween shoes for them to put their little paws into …

Halloween in Regency Times. Yes? Or no?

Tags

Halloweedn in Regency times, Halloween, Love spells, Loving Lady Lazuli, recipes, Regency

 

Devorlane Hawley : Hamsters? I am being interviewed by hamsters? I thought I had stopped taking hallucinatory things?

Sapphire : Well, to answer your question, I think it is very clear from the work of Robert Burns, Halloween was still alive and kicking in Scotland. In his poem Halloween he talks about stealing out alone and throwing blue hamsters…sorry, yarn into the cooking pot and winding it back to find the name of your future spouse.

SO I think we can say that that these kind of superstitions might be sort of acted out, depending on the household south of the border.

Let’s face it we all like love spells, now don’t we?

Devorlane Hawley :  We might also have a bonfire. Burn a few things. What do you think Saff?

Sapphire : That would of course be more for Guy Fawkes, Dev. Lay off, You’re scaring the little things.

Devorlane Hawley : I’m just making sure you don’t steal one and put it in my pocket.

Sapphire. : Certainly.

 

Sapphire : Not exactly. No………… I think we were more in the burn and die category.  

Devorlane Hawley :  Now Saff, you’re doing the scaring. As you can see historical romance authors may set a lot of their stories at Halloween but we don’t  really keep it. We are however very interested in gothic novels. Saff reads this kind of tripe all the time. ……

Devorlane  Hawley : And if I look in my crystal ball, I can see that when it comes to future generations dressing up at Halloween, Regency times still has this to offer. ….

 

Devorlane Hawley:  So we’re not a complete lost cause, here in Regency England.

Sapphire   :   Exactly. But Dev, we wouldn’t like to scare the little creatures out of their fur now would we, so I think we should leave them with a little something for their Halloween suppers……..

100g plain chocolate

• 5 tablespoons soured cream
• 125g chocolate biscuit crumbs

• For decoration
• 5 tablespoons chocolate biscuit crumbs
• 5 tablespoons icing sugar
• 24 silver dragées (silver balls) for the eyes
• 25g flaked almonds
• 12 (5cm) liquorice strings
• 1. Melt the chocolate and combine with soured cream. Stir in 125g chocolate biscuit crumbs. Cover and chill until firm.
  2. Roll by level tablespoonfuls into balls. Mould to a slight point at one end (the nose) to form hamsters.
  3. Roll each hamster in chocolate biscuit crumbs. On each hamster, place dragées in appropriate spot for eyes, almond flakes for ears and a liquorice blob  for the tail.
  4. Chill for at least two hours until firm.

From Bear Mountain to Wolf Creek…Happy Halloween

Tags

Capro, Etopia Press, Halloween, Honor's Debt, Ireland, Let Angels Fly, Noelle Clark, Rosamanti, Secret Cravings Publishing

 

Dudes….is this wise? I mean, I never let that delusional hamster in here.

 

Dudes, can we seriously quit sounding like Fury and Flint and get with the program for the rest of the Spooktacular. It’s Halloween and time is running out.

 

For when you go to visit her blog…yes..

Look….the bear picture was an honest mistake. Lace sent that weeks ago. I forgot it was there.

After Noelle invited you, Cat Cavendish invited you AND Lace Winter gave you a lovely blog award.

Of course she didn’t. Lace deeply regrets that photograph which she sent you in good faith.

For your own safety…….I have shed buckets.

But, if you cannot find it in your hamstah hearts to welcome Noelle to the last post in the Spooktacular, well I shall just have to do it myself. AND swipe the blog award. AND have a hamstahs week.

I know. But as they say, it is not raining either. Now then, Noelle Clark is an Aussie author and a wonderful supporter of other authors.

In another few weeks she has a new book coming out, which I know she worried about ever seeing the light of day.

Nice huh?

But you do, cos it’s not. Anyway Noelle isn’t here today to talk about that. What she drew out the cauldron wasn’t a recipe, it wasn’t an interview, it wasn’t a spooky place, or character. NO…What she drew was the following…

 

‘Whilst my generation of Aussies don’t really celebrate – or understand – Halloween, the younger generation are embracing the Trick or Treat fun with gusto.

These days, supermarkets are decorated in ‘scary’ stuff, pumpkins, and witches, and I have to ensure I buy some lollies to hand out to the local kids in my street. Heck, don’t want them to egg my car!

But if I had to choose the singular most scary movie that I’ve ever watched (through slits in my fingers because my hands covered my face), then I would choose……

Sorry dudes….the Australian movie Wolf Creek. Scared the you-know-what outta me!

There’s now Wolf Creek 2 out, but I haven’t seen it yet. Not sure I will either.’

Check out this trailer and see what you reckon.

http://youtu.be/8S13W69FQhs

 

 

And for more Australian Halloween-ish scary movies, check these out:

‘Top 10 Aussie films to scare off tourists’

Happy Halloween everyone!!

 

Noelle Clark
www.noelleclark.net     Facebook page      Twitter

Coming soon

 

They Walk Amongst Us

Tags

ghosts, Halloween, Heart of the Arena, Mishka Jenkins, spooky, The Magic Spark

 

MARY AKEHURST’S SCOTTISH SHORTBREAD

http://theunpredictablemuse.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/scottish-shortbread-recipe.html

All right, so today on the Spooktacular we move to our next guest, the lovely Mishka Jenkins.

A very talented author of several books,

And what Mishka drew in the Spooktacular was the following……..

So, let’s put our paws together and welcome her along to find out just what that is.

GUYS???????

My Favourite Spookiest Halloween character…….by Mishka Jenkins.

‘No contest, it has to be ghosts.

The thought of something haunting you, something you can’t see or do anything about, creeps me out big time!

 I can deal with the vampires and their fangs, or the Freddy Kruegers and their claws; at least you can see them, and then stab them in the chest with a large wooden stake.

But ghosts, not so much! What do you even do if they haunt you?

 Yeah, they are definitely the creature that scares me the most.

 

Especially when so many things can be attributed to them. Like when the curtains blow open and everyone jokes, ‘oh, it’s a ghost’ and then laugh. I’m the one in the corner hyperventilating!

So far, I have never written a ghost character and am not sure I’d ever attempt it. If I did, it would have to be done during the day with lots of other people around!

Blurb:
Successful businesswoman Alex is content with her life in London, and any ideas of romance have been left on the back burner. But when her fairy godmother, FG, waltzes into her office one morning announcing she has come to help Alex rekindle a passion for life and love, she is about to check herself into therapy!

The fairy godmother’s incessant wand-flicking soon lands them in the isolation of the Scottish highlands, where Alex’s next client, Mal Ross, not only stirs her professional interest but her romantic ones too.

Tasked with the enormous challenge of turning a historic castle into a flourishing hotel, the pair must work closely together whilst attempting to avoid the awkward situations the rom-com obsessed fairy godmother keeps forcing them into.

But the path of love is never smooth, no matter how much magic you throw at it.

‘The Magic Spark’ is a light, enjoyable read, full of fun and romance.

Links:

Blog: https://awriterslifeformeblog.wordpress.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8277234.Mishka_Jenkins

Twitter: @writerlifeforme

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mishka-Jenkins/260588067439282

Buy link for my new release, The Magic Spark: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O1AAT3S

 

 

Bear Night in the Spanish Museum…..

Tags

Elyzabeth M. Valey, Erotic Romance, Evernight Publishing, ghosts, Halloween, Spain, The Reina Sofia museum

 

 

 

Okay, okay, can we have some order please for our next guest in the Spooktacular where I threw some post ideas in the bucket and then drew for our guests?

We’ve had spooky covers, new releases, recipes, an interview with a real live horror writer and a session with a scary musician. Today we zip off to Spain. Do they have Halloween there?

But they do have museums and they do have my doodling buddy, the lovely Elyzabeth M. Valey, as you can see…

.and never mind Shorty….Mitsy and The Dook have already sounded it for her, so let’s go and let the lady speak………………………….

‘Spain is filled with scary things. From the famous Faces of Belmez (images of faces that mysteriously appeared in a house’s concrete floor in 1971)

to the haunted hospital of Agramonte, there are ton of mysterious things going on in this old country.

However, I’m going to tell you about a place that is easily overlooked; a place that is filled with thousands of tourists every day; a place full of art but also of paranormal occurrences.

Welcome to the Reina Sofia Museum.

The Reina Sofia museum has been since 1986, Madrid’s Modern art museum. With over 3 million visitors from every corner of the world, it has pieces from Picasso, Dali and more. It also has ghosts. Numerous ghosts.

Originally built in the 18^th century as the General Hospital, the building was declared a national treasure in 1985. In 1986 its remodelation began. Numerous skulls, chains, medical material and bodies were found.

In 1990, 3 mummies were discovered.

 

They belonged to three nuns from a religious order that once cared for the hospital and their patients.

The museum opened and little by little, more was uncovered.

In the early 1900’s the people that worked there already talked about ghosts walking the halls. Paranormal investigators say that in a circular room where the psychiatric ward was located, you can see men tied to the wall, attempting to attack each other.

However, that isn’t the scariest place.

In the Museum’s basement there are hundreds of roaming souls, for it was there that the hospital’s patients, beggars and soldiers were buried.

In 2001 the museum was remodeled again to become the beautiful building that it is today. However, the paranormal activity has not ceased.

 

More than one worker of the Reina Sofia Museum has quit their job, unable to cope with the screams, the praying nuns roaming the halls and the constant movement of the disconnected elevators………………………….

 

 

ArcanusAmator… Elyzabeth’s NEW RELEASE……

 

 

 

As an Arcánús, one of Cupid’s blessed children, Amandus’s mission in life was to aid his father in bestowing love upon others. Unfortunately, when he found his own soul mate he was incapable of making her perceive their connection. Furthermore, she doomed their love forever. Amandus’s only hope is a spell concocted by Cupid: The ArcánúsAmator: Spell of the Secret Lovers. Hailey is desperate for love. She’s so desperate that when she finds a spell on the internet that promises to connect soul mates, she decides she must try it. Convincing her friend Hannah to help her, the girls embark on a one-night craze that will produce life-changing results and bring to life what was thought to be only a myth.

Buy Links

Evernight

Amazon

Amazon.uk

Bookstrand

All Romance Ebooks

 

Author Bio:

Defined as weird since she was about eight, Elyzabeth honors the title by making up songs about her chores, doodling stars and flowers on any blank sheet of paper and talking to her dog whenever he feigns interest.

Losing the battle to the voices in her head is her favorite pastime after annoying her younger sister with her singing. Writing stories full of passion and emotion where love conquers all is her happy pill and she’ll forgo sleep to make her readers live the dream.

Stalk me at:

Blog Website Facebook Twitter Goodreads Pinterest

 

Excerpt:

She frowned. “What the hell’s happened?” She was quite sure this was not how the spell worked. Granted, she hadn’t exactly read the entire information sheet on the website.

“No one does,” she whined, bouncing on the balls of her feet while staring at the flickering flame of the candle. The thing was more than 20 pages long. It was like reading one of those software agreements. No one read the damn thing. She’d read the instructions and the first page with all the warnings and that was more than enough. Taking a deep breath, she managed to settle her nerves a little. Everyone thought she was the ditsy blonde obsessed with the occult, but she wasn’t. She was a hard worker, impatient when things didn’t go as expected. It was partially the reason why she’d filed through so many relationships. Why stay with a guy when he clearly had nothing to offer? Some of her friends argued that she didn’t give them a chance. She begged to differ. She’d given them a chance, they just hadn’t taken it.

True, her impatience sometimes got her into some trouble but it also saved her from a lot of it. That, however, wasn’t the case now. Annoyed that the spell had gone awry, she brushed back her bangs impatiently. Whatever had happened was not important. The priority was getting Hannah back home. Scanning the room for her discarded laptop, she did a double take.

Obstructing the exit to the living room stood the most gorgeous man she had laid eyes on. He was massive. His head almost brushed the top of the doorframe. His heavily muscled arms were crossed in front of him, his chest bare except for the intricate design of a red-inked tattoo that started around his left nipple and descended across his side to his hip. Low on his hips, he wore a long black skirt made out of what looked like leather.

Hailey hesitated a moment before finally glancing fully at his face. Her breath stilled as their eyes locked. A clear shade of violet, they were not from this world. Swallowing, she took a step backwards without breaking her stare. The stranger’s eyes glittered with curiosity and amusement.

“Careful with the center of the star,” he warned. Hailey stumbled and froze. His voice was deep and commanding and had a familiar ring to it that sent her senses reeling. Shaking her head slightly, she continued moving away from him.

“Watch—”

Breath exploded from her lungs as she crashed into a shelf, a few ornaments she and Hannah kept, crashing to the floor.

“—out. Are you all right?”

Hailey winced, the back of the shelf digging into her skin, but she nodded anyway. The stranger flashed her a grin that made her knees weak. Hailey swallowed. The urge to see him smile again clawed at her insides like a desperate hunger.

Ignoring her, he glanced down at the pentagram, his silky dark curls framing his strong jaw and straight nose.

“You don’t look like you knew what you were getting into.”

Hailey held on to the bookcase behind her. She was afraid that if she moved the whole thing would topple over her head and she’d wake up, realizing that the man in the center of the room was nothing more than a dream.

“Read the first page of the instructions and didn’t bother to read the rest, huh?”

His eyes lifted to hers with a sassy smirk that lit up his violet eyes. Hailey stared speechless, the urge to touch the man making her palms itch as if she’d stepped into poison ivy.

“Yeah, you never did care what you got into, Ariadne.”

 

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

Facebook

Twitter

 

Pinterest

Goodreads

The Dead Don’t Walk…

Tags

Etopia Press, Gathering Leaves, Halloween, His Judas Bride, Loving Lady Lazuli, Millais, The Unraveling of Lady Fury

 

 

I chose this painting by Millais

I chose this painting by Millais because

 

Dudes…can we lay off please, or you so know what is going to happen to that Hamstah Week? And that will sorely disappoint your fans.

Now then, I chose that painting…well..all right, I never chose it as such 

 

 

 

No, I sort of wasn’t actually. What I was going to say was

Yeah. Look at that pink pig there with flying wings. Isn’t it pretty?

Now, what was I saying? Oh yes, the painting and how it inspired me to

 

 

What I was trying to say, maybe not very well, is that I have two heroines in two books left with a disposal problem. 

SO the painting by Millais, It’s Halloween,

I do like to play up horror in the ordinary in my books. It adds a little suspense… although obviously my characters who tangle with death in some way, aren’t bad people.

I just find my inspiration in the ordinary, as you can see……

And that painting did inspire this scene in Loving Lady Lazuli, which is as much as I am going to share with you today.

“I’m tellin’ yer, soddin’ ‘ell, I’m tellin’ yer, yer can’t. Yer…”

“Just take his feet. Do it will you?”

His feet? Devorlane clicked his tongue in the hope of nudging Mephisto closer. The beast was finicky and he didn’t particularly want to be caught where Lord Koorecroft had told him not to be. Although, when he considered it, Lord Koorecroft’s specifics had been shrubberies. Shrubbery? He wasn’t even on her damned property, was he?

Whose feet and why, was what he had the burning urge to discover.

Of course, he could be mistaken about that. Maybe it wasn’t feet at all? Maybe it wasn’t anything?

“Pearl. The spade…”

The instruction was faint but, no, he did not mistake it. A spade. A spade and feet. A spade and feet meant one thing. He’d seen enough death to know.

He dismounted and crept  one or two steps down the incline through the faint mist coiling around his boots. The dew soaked them with each mushy step. If this baggage  was down there with a spade, he must be careful.

For that matter it might be his feet she was instructing Pearl and Ruby to get. Look at the things she’d managed to turn around on him so far. From sticking the Wentworth emeralds in the pocket of his best breeches, to bleating to Lord Koorecroft about the big bad Chessington wolf being in her shrubbery.

He turned and clapped Mephisto’s neck. It was better if he sent the animal back to Chessington.

Keeping low, Devorlane tiptoed  to the tree at the foot of the incline. The vantage point was not so good from there, but he thanked Christ for at least being able to bring the throb in his thigh under control.

“Oh!” that other serving girl, Pearl, wailed. “What’s that noise? What’s that noise, Rube? Listen. Do you hear it?”

He froze to the tree bark. The possibility existed they could just be gardening. It was the time of year for that, wasn’t it? Hell on earth, he’d been so long away from a garden of any sort he couldn’t remember.

“Only sound I don’t ‘ear is the soddin’ sound of yer bleedin’ diggin’. Put yer back inter it, yer lazy trout. Bleedin’ ‘ole won’t dig itself.”

A hole? There was only one kind he could think of. He’d thought of it when he’d edged down the hill. But now he’d done so his mouth dried. Shock, that he knew he must squash if he was still to have the element of surprise and turn this to his advantage, clutched his gut. Not who. Why? That was the thing he needed the answer to. Then he could go to Lord Koorecroft. It would be the end of her. There would be no passing off a corpse in her garden as a servant of the realm.

“But, Rube, I only got a trowel.”

“I don’t care if you’ve only got a spoon. Do what Ruby says.”

Her voice. He’d wondered, hadn’t he, that night, about what particular level of gutter-snipe she was. What hole she’d crawled from, for all the brilliant mantle of her entirely faked refinement never slipped for a second. Those words, that husky, slightly rough undertone , said maybe not a center of the earth one, but certainly one deeper than that grave they were obviously digging.

“But, Cass. Cass, listen. I swear I’m not imagining it. I can hear it. What if it’s—”

“Are you stupid? Devorlane Hawley’s nowhere about. He can’t be. I assured it.”

“I wasn’t thinking Lord Hawley. What if it’s Gil?”

“Oh, ‘ow the bleedin’ ‘ell can it be Gil? Jeesus-sake. Ain’t that Gil. Ain’t that only Gil there? Dead as the soddin’ dodo.”

“Ruby’s right, the dead don’t walk.”

Devorlane crept forward. Oh, didn’t they? He did not believe this, these words he had just heard, but now was the time to get through the border of bramble and bracken, to sidle  with the broken wall beneath his fingertips, and to peer, with a clawed breath, at the coronet of women, laboring in the cold of the early winter sunlight, digging, with a kind of desperation. At least she was.

A kind of something else too. His eyes unfortunately roamed the nicely rounded curve of her buttocks clearly outlined by the clinging gown. Soft. Velvet. The exact color of her eyes too.

When the throbbing ache in his thigh was under control for the first time today, why give himself another? Especially when her husband’s days of peace and tranquility had ended sooner than any of them anticipated by the looks of this. What seeped through the barrier of the sheet? Had she perchance assisted with his demise?

The thought determined him. Here was his chance. He was soldier enough to know there was dissent in the ranks. And man enough not to fear three women.

After all, what could they do to him, he thought, as he now stepped forward.

 Copywrite Etopia Press.

 

 

The Cook, the Witch and the Catfish

Tags

Cajun, Catfish Etoufee, Catish, Eric Johnson, Free book, Halloween, recipe, short story, Tales form the Cook, Witches, writing

 

Okay…ENOUGH. At least there is one of you does what they are told. Thank YOU Ratsy. So… Who we have today in Spooky Season IS Eric Johnson. What can I say about this multi talented guy?

No. That is not what I was going to say. Author Eric has the most amazing blog http://authorericjohnson.com/ where he shares recipes and tells amazing tales to go with them.

Eric has come along for the Spooky Season and is following my last guest, Incy Black and the contents of a certain hero’s pocket, with a very special TALE, okay? AND a recipe. I did mention that he is also an author. Well, not only is that true but his wonderful book,

is FREE on Amazon right now. That’s right. http://www.amazon.com/author/authorericjohnson .

So, what are you waiting for? Except to hear from the man himself…

‘It was the first non spare the air day in many months and Rayette Davies had a
new apprentice over to initiate into the ranks. It was to be a day of discovery
and truth.

The fire crackled in the hearth, the cast iron pan’s handle was hot to touch,
Rayette drew her hood back.

“It is time,” she said. “Hear me O great mother of sauces. Scoop of butter, equal part flour, thickening agent of the three. Light roux. Dark roux. Tasty not gluten free.”
“Wait,” the apprentice stopped the incantation. “I thought we were here to
practice magic, not have a cooking lesson.”
Rayette’s eyes turned with compassion. “We are practicing magic.” she said.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have time for this,” the apprentice said. “My yoga class
starts in an hour. PTA is tonight. And I still don’t know what to cook for
dinner.”
“This is exactly what we talked about,” Rayette held her hand. “A great evil has
fallen over the land that sucks people away from nature.

We live in a factory farm age where people have lost their sense of eating, culinary magic brings people back to living in harmony with the seasons. You want to get back into touch don’t you?”
“Rayette I do,” the apprentice averted her eyes. “But can we do this another
time?”
“What about the coven?” Rayette asked. “It takes time and patience. Love is the
magic you put into what you are making. Once you have the frame work… Besides,
you said you needed to put the spark back in your marriage.
“I want to be a witch, not a sandwich maker. I’m going.”

“Please don’t go,” Rayette put her spoon down. “You haven’t learned the recipe.”
Light flooded the kitchen as the door opened. Rayette sat in her chair and
watched the fire. The pleasant smell of toasting flour and butter brought her
back from her thoughts. She spoke to the roux. “How can I have a cooking coven
when nobody will dedicate time to cook real food? A counter spell is what I need
to break the dark magic. I must consult the book of culinary engineering.”
Rayette took the book from the shelf, Pots and Pans Duh. By Edward Béarnaise.
She read; You can’t always eat what you want. But sometimes if it’s not fried
you get what you need. She tossed a log on the fire. Ecstatically she said, “Oh
yea.”
Rolling her eyes into the back of her head she waved her spoon over the
pot.”Dead chefs of the past I call upon thee. Sugar. Salt. Fat, chewy and
crunchy. Flavors, savory, sour and sweet. High Purine foods without worry of
gout. Come to me. Help me out!”

The fire flared. The pan sizzled. A cloud of deliciousness rose out her chimney
and over the town.
Rayette fell back from the hearth. Sweat ran from her brow, but her job wasn’t
done yet.
Dawning her chefs hat she mounted her food cart bicycle and with a cackle, she
rode.
The best way to get her message across was to stimulate the senses. She pedaled
down the street. Get people to give into their hidden desires for healthy food.
She pedaled faster. The best place to start was the food court at the Swillville
mall.
Rayette heard a call from down a side street. Her apprentice came running.
“Wait! What are you doing? Where are you going? she asked.
Rayette stopped. “I’m making a difference. I will show people that taking the
time to cook isn’t inconvenient.”
“Remember people love bad food. It serves a purpose.”
“They have been cursed,” Rayette said. “I must break the dark spell.

Corporations offer easy preparations with their boil in a bag and microwave
concoctions. I will not be stopped until I put an end to it. People will see,
they will understand.
“If you don’t pull this off right, Rayette, you will be labeled as a food
channel pariah.” the apprentice warned.
“Shut up and taste this,” Rayette handed her a plate of food. “If you had stayed
this is what you could have learned to cook.”
Her apprentices eyes lit up. Rayette pedaled across the mall parking lot,
through the double doors right out onto the court.
Music played loud. The griddle on the food bike glowed hot.

“I’ll show them what t is to love food.” Rayette vowed.

Men holding bags, women tearing tags and children begging for toys came out of
the stores to greet her and try her cooking. She explained that if time is
taken, a good meal will brighten a dark kitchen and warm the soul. They cheered
her, her words were wise.
But the people of the town were not the only ones coming to greet her. The food
police rolled in with their citations and seasoning spray.
“You can’t cook here you don’t have a permit.” one officer said as he handed her
a ticket and the other pushed her cart away.
She fought. “I have the right to assemble good food.”
The officer reached for her arm. “Not on private property you don’t. And
everywhere is here is owned.”
Rayette lunged for her food cart bike. She was struck by a night stick, sprayed
and zip tied. They held her for processing between the nacho bar and Slurpee
machine.

Rayette twisted her wrists to break her bonds, but it was no use. Gaining her
composure, she chanted, “Viscous paste, Xanthan gum, Polysaccharide scum.
Theatrical blood. Run!”
A scream carried across the food court.”Watch her. One guard said to the other.
I’ll be right back.”
Rayette smiled at the remaining guard. “You know those nachos look pretty good.
Mind if I have some. I heard the food in jail is really bad.”
“I can’t untie you.” the guard replied.
“I’ll just hold them and eat that way. Extra cheese please.” Rayette asked.

The guard’s radio came to life.”Call an ambulance there’s blood everywhere here.”

With The guard distracted. She dumped the nachos on to her wrists. The hot
cheese burned, but lubricated. She slipped free. Cooling her hands in the
Slurpee machine. She threw a cup full in the guards eyes. Blinded, he screamed.
Kicking him over, she ran. Bad food did serve a purpose. Hopping on her food
bike she rode across the court and out the door. This was the first day of a
coming war.’
Catfish Etouffée

Ingredients:
2 Lbs Catfish
1 Red Bell Pepper, Diced
½ Onion, Diced
2 Stalks Celery, Diced
3 Cloves Garlic, Diced
½  Tsp Cayenne Pepper
1 Tbs Butter
1 Sprig Fresh Thyme
2 Bottles Clam Juice
Season With Salt As Desired.

Saute the onion, garlic,and celery in butter until translucent. Add the clam
juice. Bring to a boil and turn down a simmer. Add the thyme and cayenne pepper
and let simmer for 15 minutes. Add the catfish and cover, cook until the catfish
is done approx 5 min. Head over to Sam Culpeppers place for the corn bread
recipe. Use Sam’s corn bread batter like pancake batter. Scoop a generous amount
of catfish étouffée on top of the corn bread pan cakes. Eat.

Roux
Roux is an essential part of Cajun cooking.
Ingredients:
4 Tbs Butter
4 Tbs Flour
Melt butter on low heat sprinkle in flour, stir till blended, cook until mixture
is peanut butter brown.

Eric Johnson grew up in Ann Arbor Michigan, and now makes his home on an island near Oakland California. One afternoon at a restaurant his fortune cookie read, ‘You have a charming way with words and should write a book.’ Those words struck a chord that awakened a long forgotten dream. He knew what he must do. Write. He finds inspiration in the little things that happen, and the people he meets. He loves to watch 1950’s science fiction movies. Eric, his wife and their two children love to hike in the hills and spend days on the beach.