Winter Blogfest: Jae El Foster

December 25, 2025 By 3 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win an autographed print copy of “Winter’s Embrace” signed by Jae El Foster. 

It’s Not About Santa but About Believing in Something

Everyone knows the holidays are for family, friends, feasts, and festivities, and one Christmas tradition is Santa Claus. While Jolly Ole Saint Nick is a staple for the season, popping up in malls and stores, online, and with call-in numbers to hear his voice, sometimes as kids age, his magic begins to fade.

When I was nine, I was playing hide-and-seek at home with my siblings, and I was going to hide in my parents’ closet. When I opened the closet door, I found a ton of toys meant for boys my age. I didn’t want Mom and Dad to know I’d discovered their secret stash of holiday gifts, so I closed the closet and went about the game. A few days later, Christmas came, and Santa had filled the space beneath the tree with wrapped presents for my siblings and me. When I started opening my presents from Santa, I noticed something extraordinary. They were the same presents that were in my parents’ closet.

I didn’t say anything. I understood the secret of Santa then, but I didn’t want to ruin their fun – and I still wanted extra presents at Christmastime. So, for the next few Christmases, I continued to go along with the Santa tradition, feigning excitement when we’d visit him at the mall and acting as surprised as I could through each unwrapping of every gift during Christmas.

Then, when I turned fourteen, and I was the only kid left living at home, Santa paid his last visit to us. I knew it would be the end of the tradition. Santa brought me socks, underwear, and a new backpack. Those definitely were not Santa-type presents.

The following summer, I began to work at the restaurant my dad ran. I earned money and saved it, not really needing anything because my parents provided whatever I needed. The followingChristmas came around, and Mom dropped me off at the mall to do my Christmas shopping. While there, I took the annual photo with Santa Claus, and then I shopped. I didn’t shop for gifts for myself, though. I had fallen in love with the tradition of Santa over the years, and so I shopped for presents from Santa for my parents and for myself.

I wrapped them in secret using different wrapping paper than we had at home, and on Christmas Eve, when my parents were asleep, I slipped the presents under the tree. The next morning, my parents were in shock, and I pretended to be too. They asked if I knew who brought the presents, and I told them Santa, acting ignorant. They let it go, but I didn’t let go of the tradition. Every year following, Santa left gifts under my parents’ tree, even after I had moved out of the house and gone off to live my life.

Even though my parents are no longer with us, Santa still comes, and he still leaves presents under the tree for my husband and me – a tradition I started at fifteen and have carried on for nearly thirty-five years. Surely, my husband knows it’s me placing the gifts by now, but like my parents, he never acknowledges it and lets me have the fantasy and tradition that I’ve known since childhood. I think he understands, just as my parents must have, that it isn’t about the gifts. It’s about the magic of the tradition.

It’s up to us to keep our family traditions alive, and whatever your Christmas tradition is this year, I hope it is celebrated with the magic of the holidays and the true spirit of the Christmas season. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Embrace the joy of Christmas and some yuletide cheer in this collection of five sweet holiday romances from four of today’s most entertaining authors! Featuring brand new stories from Pamela Ackerson, Jennifer Patricia O’Keeffe, Cindy Lewis Smith, and Jae El Foster, this anthology will help you hold the spirit of Christmas and the magic of true love in your heart the whole year round.

Meant to Be by Pamela Ackerson: Single and starting over in tiny Lorman, Mississippi, teacher Faith Anjos dives into home renovations with tools in hand and a boat from her late dad’s fishing Sundays. Realtor Gabriel White becomes her unexpected ally, sharing lunches, family barbecues, and stolen kisses under patriotic park lights. But when a sassy ex-roommate stirs trouble and life’s curveballs hit hard, Faith learns that true love thrives not just in perfect houses, but in the messy magic of Christmas cheer and forever promises.

Window Shopping by Jennifer Patricia O’Keeffe: Single and sentimental, Whitney dives into downtown’s dazzling displays—animatronic toys, frosted windows, violin carols—chasing Christmas cheer alone after helping coworker Chad remotely. Fate intervenes with a literal bump into charming Chad, leading to diner laughs, Santa’s lap shenanigans, and hand-holding revelations. As they embrace kid-at-heart traditions amid bustling streets and Santa’s sly matchmaking, a parade invite blossoms into dinner-and-movie dreams. Proving the season’s sparkle uncovers love when least expected.

Mr. Hollister’s Christmas by Cindy Lewis Smith: Thirty-three and resigned to spinsterhood in Goldfield, Josie channels her Georgia Christmas memories into a perfect Eve nuptial for Rose and Hank, footed by taciturn rancher Clint Hollister. Their prickly partnership blooms amid pine boughs, fiddle waltzes, and whispered regrets from a saloon-fueled mail-order mishap. When a wheel-wrecked ride home unveils Clint’s hidden role in her arrival—and his lingering loneliness—snowy revelations ignite a romance as timeless as the stars above the Llano River.

What the Snow Blew In by Jae El Foster: Snowbound in Deerborne, Connecticut, during a record-breaking blizzard, editor Carina Whitaker hunkers down with wine, her cat Tom Boy, and cherished Christmas ornaments—until a shivering mailman named Jerry delivers a package and seeks refuge from the storm. As power flickers out and drifts bury her home, candlelit evenings spark unlikely conversations, shared meals, and cozy traditions that warm more than the gas fireplace. Amid reading aloud by firelight and piano carols, holiday magic proves that what the snow blows in might just be the love she’s been waiting for.

The Magic of Mistletoe by Jennifer Patricia O’Keeffe: Sarah’s winter break turns into survival mode: dodging doll-throwing dollops, sweeping glass shards, and sacrificing her office sanctuary for peace between battling children. Amid cold coffee confessions and contract close-calls with hubby Thomas, festive fumbles—from runaway pillows to reluctant photos—test their bond. Yet as grilled cheeses soothe tears and starry-eyed surprises arrive post-midnight, mistletoe weaves its spell, transforming holiday havoc into heartfelt harmony and impossible dreams come true.

When the muses speak, Jae El Foster writes, and he has been doing so for nearly twenty years, tackling some of the most intriguing genres out there. Delivering fresh, incomparable tales of horror, science fiction, and romance – sweet or spicy – he pens with seasoned skill the tales that his muses deliver to him.

 

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Winter Blogfest: Barbara Custer

December 24, 2025 By 7 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card. 

The Scent of Christmas

Christmas was a big holiday in our home—lights, flavors, and heart. Mom transformed the house every December, setting up not one but two Christmas trees, draping the outside in twinkling lights, and crowning every window with a wreath. But the true center of gravity, the heartbeat of the season, lived in her kitchen.

Every year, she baked pizzelles, butter cookies, and lemon drops; the aromas of anise, lemon, and butter drifted through every room. Platters of her treats made their way to friends, neighbors, and even her doctors. It was her love language—crispy, delicate, and coated with icing and sprinkles. She taught me how to bake—at one point, I was cooking handmade spaghetti and my own tomato sauce. That’s right, I’m 100% Italian, though I don’t look it.

My first years away from home were hard, but every holiday season, pulling out Mom’s worn recipe cards grounded me. The familiar mixing, rolling, and baking made it feel like she was standing right beside me. My husband enjoyed every bite, and the cookies helped smooth over a few tense moments at work. I still keep a book full of her recipes—some I’ve mastered, others continue to challenge me.

Then, about ten years ago, I found I was sensitive to gluten. You can imagine what that meant for Mom’s recipes. My first attempts at gluten-free versions were… well, let’s just call them educational. The cookies crumbled if you so much as breathed on them. Eventually, thanks to xanthan gum and the rise of measure-for-measure gluten-free flours, things began to improve. A recent trip to Termini Brothers at Reading Terminal Market changed things again. Their gluten-free cookies were so boldly flavored that I felt newly inspired—bring on the strong extracts! Anise oil has become my new best friend.

Now, the next hurdle: sugar. My eye doctors have advised me to cut back, so I’m experimenting with reduced-sugar and no-sugar versions of my favorites. That challenge is still very much a work in progress—but one I’m determined to crack. But I keep in mind that holiday magic isn’t about perfect cookies; it’s the memories we create and share, one batch at a time.

Night to Dawn 48 delivers horror and science fiction with a humorous twist, as in Matthew Wilson’s “Diet or Die;” the unspeakable, as in Hal Kempka’s “Turkey Shoot;” and occasionally, a happy ending, such as Charles Gramlich’s “Soft They Were, and Broken.” Happy or grim, the stories will keep you up at night, reading to their satisfying conclusions. The collection of short stories, poetry, and illustrations, presented by Barbara Custer, includes:

“The Golden Hour” by Rod Marsden

“Eel Soup” by Marge Simon

“We, the Possessed” by Rajeev Bhargava

“In Widow’s Weeds” by Hillary Lyon

“Truth” by Lee Clark Zumpe

“Small Differences” by Christopher T. Dabrowski

“Crime Scene Confidential” by Marc Shapiro

“Interview with a Reluctant Vampire” by Margaret L. Carter

“Mike Walker and the Old Tree” by Linda Barrett

…and many others, including dark poetry and illustrations by Marge Simon, Sandy DeLuca, Denny E. Marshall, Chris Friend, Elizabeth, Vin Davis, Hattie Pierce, and other contributors.

 

They call her Balloon Lady.

When Barbara Custer was in high school back in the 1970s, she weaned on Dracula and Dark Shadows, and has always enjoyed a good horror or science fiction flick. She did not begin writing until 1990, when a college professor encouraged her to try writing to help process her grief over her mother’s death. A Stephen King fan, her horror and science fiction short stories have appeared in numerous small press magazines. Her novels include Twilight Healer, Steel Rose, When Blood Reigns, Infinite Sight, The Forgotten People, City of Brotherly Death, and two novellas: Close Liaisons, and Life Raft: Earth. She’s been publishing Night to Dawn Magazine since 2004.

Basically, she’s a ghost balloon that haunts the towns near Philadelphia, PA. When she’s not working on Night to Dawn projects, she’s enjoying a fright flick. She maintains a presence on Facebook, Linkedin, and The Writers Coffeehouse forum. Look for the photos with the Mylar balloons, and you’ll find her. 

 

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Toil and Trouble by various authors – Spotlight and Giveaway

October 30, 2025 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The brew is hot and bubbling over with romance and terror in this twistedly beautiful anthology that welcomes the darkness of horror and the temptation of love’s veiled promises. Six remarkable tales from six incredible authors fill this book of dark shadows and ancient whispers.

Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble – by Jennifer Patricia O’Keeffe: Enchanted pastries and spell-brewed coffee make Esmerelda’s sugar-dusted counter the city’s most coveted haunt—until a dangerously charming newcomer slips into her shop, immune to her magic and unraveling her carefully guarded world. As his witch-hunter heritage threatens to burn her legacy to ash, Esmerelda finds herself torn between the threat of revenge from the witch hunter’s ancestors and the intoxicating truth of the connection that they share.

Silverwood – by Lynn Hubbard: A lonely rancher’s daughter finds her isolated Wyoming homestead upended when an amber-eyed stranger ignites a mud-splattered passion that defies reason—until his supernatural secret and the vengeful ranch hands hunting her force her to choose between the man who saves her and the monster who might destroy her. Torn between fierce protectors and forbidden desire, she must trust the very darkness that could shatter her world to survive the wild frontier’s deadliest threats.

Ivy, Lichens and Wallflowers – by James Ryan: Marketing executive Hilda finds solace from her stifling corporate life and overbearing past in the quiet companionship of Miriam, a mysterious 19th-century marble statue in a city micro-park, only to discover their connection transcends stone when Miriam begins answering her handwritten notes through cryptic poetry left in return. As their forbidden connection deepens into an intoxicating dream-bound romance, Hilda uncovers Miriam’s supernatural secret: she’s a cursed thaumaturge sustained by stolen life force, forcing Hilda to confront whether love can survive the devastating cost of keeping her alive.

A Mirror to Die For – by Cindy Lewis Smith: A desperate woman finds solace in an antique mirror that whisks her nightly to 1880s Arizona, where a charming outlaw named Johnny Ringo fulfills every fantasy—until her jealous fiancé shatters the glass and vanishes, leaving her trapped in an asylum screaming that he is the real monster, a man who shouldn’t exist: Dr. John Henry Holliday, the gambler who killed Ringo a century ago. Now, with “MPR” carved into her cell walls and time itself unraveling, she’ll stop at nothing to prove her sanity by proving time travel is real—even if it means unleashing the very darkness that destroyed her.

Flight 1031: Cosmic Turbulence – by Julian Christian: Diplomatic courier Sarah Martinez boards Flight 1031 expecting routine turbulence, not a Halloween dimensional rift that strands her at Germania International Airport—where the Greater German Reich has ruled since 1943 and perfected technology to harvest souls from parallel realities through consciousness-scanning machinery that pulses with seventeen-beat rhythms. Now trapped in a terminal that breathes like a living organism, Sarah must navigate a world where every passenger hides a secret and her resistance could either save her timeline or doom infinite versions of humanity to eternal enslavement in a Reich that spans all dimensions.

Dream a Little Dream – by Jae El Foster: After a near-death car crash rewires her brain, Sarah’s nightmares bleed into reality: sugar on the counter forms glyphs, bats appear out of nowhere in broad daylight, and her own hands betray her—while the velvet-eyed stranger from her dreams appears in her waking hours, his urgency growing as Halloween’s veil thins. Now, with her reality twisting into something surreal and an ancient language hijacking her voice, she must confront a dark truth: her soul isn’t hers to keep, and the man who saved her in death is the very entity hunting her in life.

Enjoy an Excerpt From ‘A Mirror to Die For’ by Cindy Lewis Smith

“May I have a glass of water?” I asked.

I’m just so uncomfortable. These clothes I am wearing are itchy and stained. I have no recollection of purchasing this outfit. It’s definitely not mine nor my style. My hair feels gritty and needs to be washed and brushed. Any day now my fiancé John Henry, some people call him Doc, will be bringing me my own clothes and makeup, and a new hair brush too. I know he will. I can’t wait to see him. It’s been so long.

In fact, I don’t know where he could be. The last time I saw him we argued, but that was the way it was for us. I’d forgive him and we would go on as if nothing happened. This chair is uncomfortable. The seat is worn out and the softness of the padding has long gone. I have to keep squirming and readjusting my body just to be able to endure the sitting.

I noticed the clock on the wall directly in front of me. It’s one of those large heavy clocks, probably weighing fifty pounds or more. There’s a picture of the Eiffel Tower in the face of the clock. The word Paris is written in a pretty script over the tower. I doubt anyone in this place has ever been to Paris. It’s on my bucket list. John Henry and I may honeymoon in Paris once we’re married, although he’s been talking about going back to Georgia instead.

To distract my thoughts in the silence of this morbidly uncomfortable room, I envision the clock falling and crashing to the floor, leaving a giant hole in the wall where the nail would be. I imagine that the glass in the clock has broken into thousands of tiny pieces. Sharp pointy shards of glass are scattered throughout the room, glittering like diamonds on velvet. Aren’t they so pretty?

“I’m sorry, I lost my train of thought.”

“Go on,” he said, “Tell me more about what happened to John Henry”

I love talking about John Henry. My story, it’s all true, you know. Every single word. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if it didn’t happen to me.

I readjusted myself one more time in the chair and continued.

“It all started the day I purchased the mirror,” I explained.

“You see, I hadn’t slept but maybe four or five restless hours the entire previous week. My life had become mundane and boring. The excitement was gone between me and John Henry. His demeanor had changed. He said it wasn’t him, it was me who had changed. But, I knew he was lying.”

He never told me any truths. Not anything about his past or what he did when he left me. Sometimes, I felt like he was only using me. Like I was a mysterious link or something between what he used to be and what he wanted to be now. It’s hard to explain, it was probably nothing more than my imagination.

John Henry was just so ruggedly handsome, I couldn’t help myself, so I forgave him often when we argued. Maybe because of our fighting and torrent relationship, the headaches were coming more and more frequently. And, more intense.

I refused to take the prescription medication I was given. Those pills… those little pink and red pills! NO! No, not those pills again. I couldn’t take it anymore. I tossed the prescription bottle into the trash can and grabbed the keys to my car on my way out the door. I heard the door slam behind me and I didn’t look back. I was not going to think about John Henry, if only for one day.

“My old Chevy was stuttering and in need of some repairs, but it didn’t stop me from driving wherever I wanted to go. And that day, I wanted to go across the border. It was a warm day in late September, with barely a breeze moving through the dry air. I was wearing a big straw hat, the same kind the Chiquita Banana woman wears on the TV commercials, a pair of dark sunglasses and shoes that flipped back and forth on my feet.”

I was getting low on gas so I coasted into an old, mostly deserted town in southern Arizona. It was just a few miles or so, maybe thirty or forty minutes across the border. I didn’t want to take a chance on stalling out the car. Service stations out there are few and far between. I parked my car on a dust covered side street and strolled to the downtown area of this dusty little town.

Some old-timers were outside sitting on benches that lined the wooden sidewalks of the streets. Their wrinkled cheeks were swollen on one side from a wad of chewing tobacco. A dirty brass spittoon was centered on the sidewalk between them. I could feel them staring at me. You know that kind of stare implying that I didn’t belong there, that I’m out of place.

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As an Author, What Scares Me the Most by Shelly Campbell – Guest Blog and Giveaway

June 20, 2025 By 9 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Shelly Campbell will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

As an Author, What Scares Me the Most
As an author, what scares me most is writing.

It’s okay. Feel free to laugh it up. Honestly though, that imposter syndrome, it’s a tricky beast. Every single time I start penning a first draft, my brain chugs to a stop and insists quite loudly that actually I don’t know how to write books anymore. What’s more I never knew how to do it. Somehow, the last bunch of times I wrote and published books, I fooled everyone into believing I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t, and even if I did, I’ll never be able to do it again.

Ridiculous, I know. But it’s also ridiculously convincing.

I don’t think us creatives ever quite shake that imposter syndrome. It comes with the territory of simultaneously pouring your soul into your work while maintaining some awfully thick skin because rejection is part of the business of writing and publishing. And no matter how we try to not take the rejection of our art personally, it always feels a bit personal because there are pieces of us in our creations. That kind of thing feeds imposter syndrome, I think.

The good news is, that doubtful little voice in my head can go suck it because it’s wrong.

I can write.

There are readers out there who take time to tell me that they really enjoy my work—which is incredibly uplifting to hear. I enjoy writing. Once I get going, it’s damned addictive. I get to make up whole worlds that other people get to re-imagine in their heads. I get to make readers cry—Is it wrong that I’m happy when readers tell me my books make them cry? I get to meet other creatives who inspire me on a daily basis. I get to hold beautiful books in my hands and know that myself and my beta readers, publisher, editor, formatter, and book cover designer worked hard to bring those books to completion. It’s an incredibly cool feeling.

First though, I have to stare at a blank page in a Word document and push myself to write said book. And it’s scary each and every time.

But, man alive, it’s the best kind of scary.

Thanks so much for having me on the blog as a guest. Really appreciate it!

Glitching between dimensions wasn’t supposed to be my life, but sometimes you have to dance with the darkness.

I should be dead. Shot twice through the chest. But the Embassy saved me because I’m a one-of-a-kind freak who blips to worlds they can’t reach. Now I’m their personal mule, raiding collapsing planets to fatten their coffers. Lucky me.

And things have gone from bad to worse. My old team is being held hostage, my family’s in danger, and the darkness hunts me across realities. My one shot to end this living hell? Take down the Embassy, save Charlie, and torch the whole rotten system. Simple, right? One misstep though, and we’re toast. Alien breach. Apocalypse. End scene.

If I fail, the darkness won’t stop until it swallows us whole.

Enjoy an Excerpt

I used to be David.

David had a big family. Wanted to join the army. Always got stuck cleaning out the soft serve machine at his after-school job because everyone else despised the chore. But now he’s gone and I’m all that’s left. A dead animal under glass, gutted and hastily stitched together—you know the kind where the taxidermist didn’t get the eyes quite right? That’s me. Sad display in an Embassy trophy case.

But I’m not just for show. My captors use me well.

About the Author: At a young age, Shelly Campbell wanted to be an air show pilot or a pirate, possibly a dragon and definitely a writer and artist. She’s piloted a Cessna 172 through spins and stalls, and sailed up the east coast on a tall ship barque—mostly without projectile vomiting. In the end, Shelly found writing and drawing dragons to be so much easier on the stomach. Shelly writes speculative fiction ranging from grimdark fantasy, to sci-fi and horror. She’d love to hear from you.

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Hall of Shadows by Mariah Stillbrook – Spotlight and Giveaway

April 16, 2025 By 6 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Mariah Stillbrook will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

In the quiet life of Tess Moreau lies a remarkable power-her touch revives ashes, defying nature’s laws. When she uncovers a mysterious book linked to her grandmother and a witch’s coven, her journey begins. Guided by a cursed deck of oracle cards, Tess delves into The Hall of Shadows, a realm crafted by her ancestors. With each dimension traversed, she uncovers her true lineage-a descendant of mythical beings. As Tess’s humanity wanes, her destiny beckons. At journey’s end, she faces a choice: preserve or destroy the hall. In a tale of magic and identity, Tess’s odyssey may end, but her legacy is just beginning-a testament to the power within us all.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The thing about being a smudge of darkness against a black backdrop is that no one ever sees you. That is until there’s smoke. I’ve always been a creature of the night. Not like a vamp—although that would be kind of badass. I wouldn’t ever want to be like the sparkly ones, but I wouldn’t have an aversion to the cult classic: razor sharp fangs with no morals kind. Like They Thirst or Salem’s Lot, but maybe with a little more humanity left inside the creatures. I could totally rock alongside The Lost Boys.

I’ve always clung to the shadows. It’s safe there. You know, like the night sky, or the stars. The twinkle of just that small bit of light breaking through this world. It knows me, unlike this place. This place is crawling with filters that no one else seems to notice—colored lenses that sharpen the edges of what most people, if given the chance, wouldn’t want to see. My Grandma Reanin used to say the same things. I guess that’s why I make so many people uncomfortable. I look for the details most people find cringy. Imagine if they knew the truth about me.

About the Author: Mariah Stillbrook is the witchy author of In the Pines, Hall of Shadows, and The Lost Erwain. Originally from Iowa, she lives in Colorado with her white German shepherd, husband, and little girl. She spends most of her days writing, reading, and enjoying the occasional hike. In her late twenties she realized that her writing was missing something, magic. She now focuses her writing on urban fantasy and horror in both adult and young adult genres.

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Beautiful Evil Winter by Kelly K. Lavender – Spotlight and Giveaway

January 8, 2025 By 5 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $15 Amazo”n/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops.

Can a novel about an American couple’s quest to adopt a Russian baby be called a Multi-Award-Winning Suspense Thriller? Yes.

“…The book is difficult to put down, enticing you to read a few more chapters before bed. In the end, the book leaves the reader satisfied, but the story never fully leaves your mind.” The US Review of Books

In the late 1990s, a time in Moscow reminiscent of the unforgiving gun-slinging days of the frontier west, mild-mannered Ethan and hot-blooded Sophia board a Russian bound plane. Armed only with a homespun plan, the desperate American couple hopes to to adopt a baby boy.

What can go wrong? Maybe, an innocent ill-fated encounter with the Mafia or maybe, being marked as a target for mob revenge. Perhaps, having to rely on a first-time adoption coordinator to complete the process and shelter them from harm. Honestly, what won’t go wrong?

Crippled by circumstances – confined and monitored in a Moscow apartment, no language skills, no cell phone, no clue, no landline, no gun, no nearby family and a baby to protect, they have to find a way to out. Everything and anything can go wrong. How can they prevail?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Will it happen this time? The ban announced last night—will it ruin everything? Dad says Russian law takes effect the moment it’s ratified. I’m so worried, Ethan.” I rub my eyes and lean my head back while the American jet engines roar in the background. My head throbs and my hands sweat as we try to begin our thirteen- hour journey. We’ve been sitting on the tarmac for two hours due to a mechanical problem.

Ethan grabs my hand and squeezes it softly, then leans over to plant a kiss on my forehead. I gaze at his face,; bags frame his red eyes. I look out the window to distract myself. It’s a sunny, cold day, the sky clear of clouds and full of promise for flight.

“One step at a time, Sophia. We’re closer than we’ve ever been. Remember that,” he says soothingly. Turning back to him, my body becomes rigid as anger spills over me like hot molten lava.

“You’re thinking the same thing I am! We should be overjoyed at the prospect of meeting our son! This is a time for celebration, a time for effervescent bottles of uncorked champagne! But this do- it-yourself adoption is a nightmare! How much longer can we handle disappointment after disappointment? The closer we think we are…the farther away we are,” I vent.

The conversation with Natasha on the phone last night burns in my brain.

“Adoption very risky in Russia now. The ban make Mafia watch money very close.”

How could she say that on the eve of our trip?

I play back what Natasha said.

“This trip big gamble for you. I work to keep adoption away from Mafia. If I do not, police arrest you for human trafficking or Mafia take you. Better to go to prison. My name not appear anywhere, only yours. Phone will be disconnected. And I never know you.”

About the Author: Kelly’s fascination with fiction began in middle school when she entered a book-reading contest and won. As an ardent fan of the resonating narrative and the cliffhanger, she decided to dedicate herself to becoming a skilled writer. When college professors spotlighted her writing in the classroom, it anchored her interest in becoming a novelist.

After earning a business degree, she continued to pursue her education at UCLA, via the UCLA Writers’ Extension Program, where her work earned praise from an award-winning author. A rickety project trip to Russia, to adopt a baby boy, provided the inspiration for her debut novel, Beautiful Evil Winter.

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The Making of a Horror Writer by C.M. Forest – Guest Blog and Giveaway

October 9, 2024 By 4 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The Making of a Horror Writer
Horror writers, in my opinion, are a special breed. We all seem to have a love for the genre that dates all the way back to childhood. A desire for all things spooky that seems to reside in our DNA. I am no different.

My own origin story begins when I was about seven, or maybe eight years old. I was raised by a single mom who worked most nights, which meant that I was under the care of my older brother. He was five years my senior (putting him around thirteen), and he absolutely loved horror (movies and books). On the nights our mom was working, my brother would sit on the couch and obsessively watch scary movies. Everything from Friday the 13th to Ghoulies. Now, picture little, tiny me, faced with two options. One, go elsewhere in our house, alone, while the sounds of bloody mayhem bounced through the rooms of our home from the television. Scared out of my mind. Or two, sit and actually watch these terrifying bits of cinema, but do so from the safety of being next to my big brother. Spoiler alert, I chose the latter.

From there, the horror tree (because that’s how I sort of picture it. The seed was planted while watching those movies with my brother) continued to grow. Once again, my brother was influential in the next step of my evolution, as he introduced me to horror literature. Some of the first horror novels I ever read were bowered from him. Richard Laymon, Stephen King, and Dean Koontz all came to me by way of his book shelves.

By the time I reached adulthood, the tree was in full bloom. I no longer needed my brother to provide me with the goods (like some sort of horror drug dealer). I was finding them just fine on my own. Which is why, when I first sat before my computer and had the notion that I would like to try my hand at writing, it was obvious what the genre would be. I had been training for it my whole life.


Dug from the twisted mind of C.M. Forest, the acclaimed author of Infested, comes a collection of 15 horror stories that will drag you into the abyss of fear and despair.

A fast-food playland with a nightmarish secret, a greenhouse with a bug problem, a busload of kids lost in the woods, a trip through the solar system to investigate a strange comet, and many more.

Brace yourself for an unrelenting journey through a world where evil knows no bounds, and darkness consumes all.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Alison got out of her car, the engine still on, and staggered down the road. Blood soaked through the front of her dress. It looked black—like a growing oil spill—under the sickly haze of the street lights. A smattering trail of circles on the pavement marked her route as she stumbled away. Her underwear, torn and soiled, hung limply around one ankle.

She did not want to look back at the car, but a deep, primal urge overrode all her wants and desires. Even as her body trembled, she found herself peeking over her shoulder. Tendrils of mist, which were seeping in off the nearby dark fields, gave her vehicle a ghostly appearance. A 3000-pound wraith waiting to lunge. The headlights, blazing though the fog, seemed to stare back at her. The fender, a taunting grin. Specks of blood dotted the windshield from the inside; gory handprints stained the seats.

Something moved within the car. An arm, a face, briefly—horribly—illuminated by the interior lights. A shifting figure, covered in a blanket of shining viscera. It was already bigger than it should be. It was growing fast.

About the Author: C.M. Forest, also known as Christian Laforet, is the author of the novel Infested, the novella We All Fall Before the Harvest, the short story collection The Space Between Houses, as well as the co-author of the short-story collection No Light Tomorrow. His short fiction has been featured in several anthologies across multiple genres. A self-proclaimed horror movie expert, he spent an embarrassing amount of his youth watching scary movies. When not writing, he lives in Ontario, Canada with his wife, kids, three cats and a pandemic dog named Sully who has an ongoing love affair with a blanket.

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Spiral by Randy Dean Noble – Spotlight and Giveaway

October 6, 2024 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

They’re in the number one watched game in the world… or so they were told. But they have no memory of who or where they are. Something beyond their wildest imaginations awaits to mercilessly strike them down. And looming in the darkness is something worse… much worse.

Green—named after the color of car he’s driving—awakens on the side of a dark highway surrounded by dense forest. And he’s in an old muscle car with no way to tell time, no cell phone, and the radio doesn’t work. When he encounters others like himself, they have to join forces to unravel the mystery surrounding them. Yet, trust doesn’t come easily—someone amongst them is a saboteur.

With their lives at stake, they are compelled to engage in a race where being last means certain death. They must disentangle the truth that threatens to consume them, before they spiral out of control.

Spiral is a gripping tale of survival, coalition, and the terrifying secrets that lie hidden in the shadows.

Prepare for a rip-roaring, adrenaline-fueled ride that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.

If you enjoy books by authors like Dean Koontz and Blake Crouch that involve supernatural thrills laced with fast-paced action, then check out Randy Dean Noble’s exciting horror thriller, Spiral, today.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Have you ever had an instinct so strong that you had to comply? It’s all I had. An overwhelming feeling to run.

I woke up in a car I didn’t recognize, seated behind the wheel, with no memory of how I got there, no idea what day it was or what time other than I could clearly see it was night. I had no watch and no cell phone. The engine idled with a deep rumble, the gear shifter in neutral, and the emergency brake had been depressed. It was a standard transmission. Did I know how to drive a standard? I couldn’t remember.

And when I woke, every part of my being screamed at me to go, to just drive. The longer I contemplated, the sweatier my hands got, sliding on the hard, cracked green steering wheel. My heart palpitated faster and faster.

It was dark out, like really dark. A moonless night. Initially, disorientation didn’t register where I was, but it didn’t take long to see I was pulled over on the side of a highway.

My heartbeat thumped in my chest like it was trying to escape. Wide eyes greeted me in the rearview mirror, eyes I didn’t recognize, nor the sweat-beading bald head reflecting back.

Who was I?

A flicker of movement caught my attention—in the ditch, near the line of pine trees. The headlights were on the high setting.

When I turned my head to look, nothing was there, but I swear I saw… something.

About the Author:

Randy Dean Noble is a supernatural thriller kind of guy. He grew up in Canada on a slew of movies and books (action/adventure, horror, sci-fi, and fantasy), all of which have inspired his writing interests. Working a plethora of minimum wage jobs took Randy into computer science and a career in I.T. (because he didn’t want to eat PB&J for the rest of his life). But his passion has always been writing, and his dream is to be a full-time fiction author. He writes stories he wants to read, which end up as fast-paced thrilling escape stories meant for one thing: to entertain the reader from beginning to end. His most recent work, Spiral, is a horror thriller wild ride you won’t soon forget.

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A Day in My Life by Kevin R. Doyle – Guest Blog and Giveaway

May 1, 2024 By 5 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A Day in My Life

My average day has changed a lot in the last eleven months. Last May, after a little more than a quarter century in front of the classroom, I retired from teaching and took up fiction writing full time. At least, that was the original intention. As often happens, life tends to have other plans, and for the first nine months of my retirement I had to focus on taking care of an ailing parent. A few months ago, she passed on, and things are finally shaking out into what I’d perceived retired life would be.

While one may think that sleeping late is the ultimate joy, most days I wake up around seven, only thirty minutes later than I did while working. Breakfast and the news go together so I can see what happened in the world overnight, and by eight or eight thirty at the latest, I’m ready to hit the computer.

However, I don’t work straight through for any given number of hours or words. While I was teaching and writing on the side, I became accustomed to only doing a page or so at the most at any one time, and I find that now that I have practically unlimited time, I follow pretty much the same pattern. When I first sit down to get to work, I’ll do maybe five hundred words, or a bit more if I’m working on a first draft, then check my e-mail, take a walk, go for a drive, or get some errands done.

Periodically through the day I’ll write another page or so, maybe do a little marketing work, then go off and do something else for a while again. Off and on I’ll be responding to any e-mails I need to, and if the weather’s good maybe go for another walk or two. (All this, keep in mind, before my swimming pool opens up around the end of May. Lord knows how much I’ll be distracted then.)

One of the biggest changes, and one I was most looking forward to, between working and retired life is in the evenings. Even now, nearly a year later, it is so nice to stretch out on the couch and watch TV knowing that there are no lessons to prepare or papers to grade. For example, I taught high-school English, and most years about the time I’m writing this my spare bedroom would be piled with research projects, including outlines, note cards and other miscellaneous materials, that I would have to plow through before May.

This provides me time in the evening, if I wish, to rap out a couple of pages or so, but if there’s something on the tube I want to watch, cramming work in isn’t nearly the priority it was before.

This routine will probably change as the months and a couple of years go by. As I mentioned, though I retired in May of last year, it’s only been since about the first of March, roughly seven weeks ago as I write this, that the parental issue found its natural resolution. As such, I’m only now really able to ease into the retired/writing lifestyle, so I have no doubt I’ll be making some tweaks to my routine as time goes by.

They kept to the shadows so no one would know they existed, and preyed on the nameless who no one would miss. Where did they come from, and who was protecting them? In a city that had seen every kind of savagery, they were something new, something more than murderous. And one woman who had thought she had lost everything there was to lose in life would soon find that nothing could possibly prepare her for what would come when she entered their world.

Please listen to this audio excerpt

About the Author:A retired high-school teacher and former college instructor, Kevin R. Doyle is the author of four novels in the Sam Quinton mystery series, all published by Camel Press. He’s also written four crime thrillers, including And the Devil Walks Away and The Anchor, and one horror novel, The Litter, along with numerous short horror stories published in small magazines over the years. The first Quinton book, Squatter’s Rights, was nominated for the 2021 Shamus award for Best First PI Novel. A lifelong Midwesterner, Doyle currently resides in Missouri and has loosely based the city of Providence in the Quinton books on Columbia.

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The Making of a Horror Writer by Jack Lowe-Carbell – Guest Post and Giveaway

March 6, 2024 By 3 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jack Lowe-Carbell will award a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The Making of a Horror Writer

I think I would classify myself as such. Though Arlya has many different themes and genres present, coming of age, thriller, mystery, at the end of the day it is a horror novel. A tale of something horrifying happening to a family, a town. Most of my short story work is also in the horror genre so I believe I would have a difficult time calling myself anything else.

Anyways, back to the question at hand, what I believe the making of a horror writer would be. I believe one of course has to love horror. You have to be a little strange, to love the feeling of being scared. To read or watch something that gives you goosebumps. The feeling is powerful, to have an emotion you never usually get on a normal day, while safely in your bed or in a theatre.

I have had countless nights wide awake, staring at the closet as a kid, telling myself for sure, for sure there is something behind there that will crawl out any minute. No matter how badly I wanted to turn over, to stop looking at the place where I would see bony hand claw out from around the wood, I would stare. I still do it. I still wake up, and though I hate it, I imagine the scariest thing that could happen right then. Something crawling along the floor moving quickly out of sight to climb into my bed.
Then, I write it down. Use it as a scene, imagine a story around that one single moment of terror.

I believe you have to see things a little differently. Horror is an interesting genre because it is filled with people that were maybe born with a strange, haunting view of the world. I tell people about the scenes I imagine and they scoff, why would I want to think about those things. I think a horror writer allows these thoughts to enter their mind while most people push it away. I have to blame my dad for reading me scary stories and encouraging these thoughts. When we would drive to our cottage, down a dark winding road through the woods, we wouldn’t talk about the next day at the lake, the morning sun, the quiet that comes with the forest at night, we would talk of old women in nighties sprinting through the woods at us, of decrepit beings crawling out in front of our headlights. So yeah, maybe it’s his fault.

I think horror writers are a rare breed, those who do it well at least, and I am not saying I do, although I have had a few people tell me they can’t read my stories at night. Anyways, my respect to all of you weirdos out there who see things a little differently. Keep writing, keep reading, and keep listening to those things that go bump in the night, and imagine them a little more next time, because it might not be “just the pipes”.

Thank you.

Arlya, a small town in Southern Ontario, is rocked by a gruesome crime. Four friends must work together with Detective Dylan Grey to find a pattern, a bike, a clue, and a sister before it is repeated.

James and his three best friends, Owen, Tommy, and Mike, have just finished school for the summer. The plan is the same as every other year: they are going to build the biggest fort yet, deep in the Dhoon Woods. After stumbling across a tiny, seemingly unimportant wooden hut, a series of crimes take place and their plans change.

Arlya falls into itself. Doors are locked, curtains drawn, bikes are put away, strangers invade, and kids are off the street. In the first week of summer vacation, a dark and disturbing family history is uncovered; friends turn on each other; a storm rolls through town; and a monster is hiding just out of sight, smiling its toothy grin and crawling through the corn.

Enjoy an Excerpt

One Friday night last summer, the four of them had left James’s house after his parents had gone to bed. They had biked around in the dark, briefly illuminated by the sparse streetlights looming over the side streets. Fog had drifted across the side roads; houses were barely visible through their covered lawns. Somehow, they wound their way to the bottom of Cemetery Hill.

“My grandpa is in there,” Tommy had said quietly.

They had looked out at the long blackness which rose menacingly above them. The trees at the top of the hill had been reaching toward the starry sky.

James had wanted to bike back. If he had left, the others would have surely followed suit. Mike had glanced at James waiting for his decision.

“My dad was supposed to be buried here,” Owen had said, his voice cracking, devoid of moisture.

The fog had continued to thicken around the four of them standing stagnant in the road, straddling their bikes.

About the Author:Jack Lowe-Carbell is a 26-year-old writer living in Vancouver, BC. Arlya is his first novel, and it is based in his hometown, Ayr, ON. Thanks to his dad, who read him horror stories when he was far too young, Jack has always loved the genre. His next novel is a tale of horror based in Garibaldi Provincial Park.

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