Howling Moon

So if you’ve been following me on Facebook for the past month or so you probably heard the news!  I have a book coming out!  The cover has been revealed and everything!!!!!!

 

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“”Emily Meyer’s life is blessed…until a mysterious animal attacks her one night in rural West Virginia.

 
Now nothing is the same. She can’t eat. She can’t sleep. And her dreams are filled with terrifying nightmares that leave her exhausted and worried she’s losing her mind.
 
Something is watching her every move. Now she’ll have to fight to survive…and to keep her humanity.””
It comes out September 12th!!!!!!!!

Dirty Goggles Blog Hop: (Steampunk) Revenge Lulllaby

(Don’t own the image, found it on pininterest)

Revenge Lullaby
Steven Paul Watson
Steampunk
Safe for most, contains violence.

                Edena could still taste the liquor on her lips.  She had been in London three nights, waiting with a single purpose in mind, revenge.  The letter rested inside her jacket pocket.  Still unaware of who sent it, “he is in London” is all it said.  She knew what she wanted, he was a psychopath and she was here to end his life.
                She watched each man as they entered, hoping it would be the one she hunted.  Most men watched her, ogled her breasts made more evident by her corset but none approached even at their drunkest.  Her straight red hair rested on her shoulders while goggles with two different colored lenses covered her green eyes.  The goggles had their purpose; she could monitory each person as they entered.  Noticing any weapons they may have carried, most importantly she could screen body temperatures.  She hunted something more than a psychopath, he was a demon responsible for the death of her young sister.
                The weapon resting in the bag at her feet was just as unique.  She had sought out an engineer many had called insane with his ideas.  There were no other explanations for his talents except he was possessed by evil, many people whispered when she came looking for him.  Edena simply thought V.H. Abraham was a genius.  He claimed to know much of what she hunted and would aide her in any way he could.  She thought he seemed to be in his late sixties but spoke as if he came from another time.  He had showed her how to use it, similar to the military’s Gatling.  Six tubes loaded with three inch long silver spikes.  Abraham assured her it would do exactly what she hoped, aim for the heart and pull the trigger.
                Edena nearly jumped from her seat when he entered; she would have known him without her goggles.  He carried himself different than anyone, an untouchable swagger knowing he was better than any man.  She sat the box on the table in front of her, pulling the crucifix pen from her necklace placing it in a small key hole.  She twisted it around like a dial four turns until she heard the mechanical click inside.   The sound of bells began to ring out a child’s lullaby.  The man set his sights on her the moment he heard the music.  He crossed the room taking a seat across from her and removed his top hat sitting it on the table.  “Madam, do I know you?”
                Edena’s finger circled the top of the box while the other hand remained hidden from sight pulling her weapon from its hiding spot.  Edena gritted her teeth fighting the urge to strike, every muscle in her body tensed with anger.  “You knew my sister.”
                “If she had a face like yours I do not know how I could forget,” his eyes drifted from her lips to her throat finally rested on the soft flesh of her breasts before he found her eyes again.
                “Boston.” The lullaby continued she had to wait just a minute longer for it to end.
                He grinned, careful not expose his teeth.  “Yes, fresh, young and innocent something you’re not.  I remember her now.  I remember how she tasted.  How she screamed.”  He smiled revealing enlarged canines.  She felt her heart bounce up into her throat and he noticed.
                The lullaby ended and the gears in the box clicked opening a small trap door.  He tilted his head focusing on the opening.  The swarm of small mechanical mosquito’s emerged.  Abraham had promised her the small insect like mechanisms would be attracted to his decaying flesh.  The demon jolted swatting at them, each one causing marvelous blue flames on impact.
                Edena stood, knocking her own chair over in the process, pulling the trigger swiftly and repeatedly.  The first shot struck his shoulder.  The second and third shot missed.  The fourth and fifth connected but in nonfatal hits.  He titled releasing a shrill horrifying scream, ignoring the insects, exposing his teeth and intent as she shot her final shot.  Flames and ash replaced his flesh and she smiled.  She had her revenge.

(693 Words)

(Don’t own the image, found it on pininterest)
Still three days left to get your entries in for the Dirty Goggles blog hop (click to get all the rules and guidlines)!

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Mid Week Blues Buster 11

(I took this picture!  So I don’t have to worry about giving anyone but me credit 🙂  But click it anyways and go check out all of the other entries in this weeks Mid Week Blues Buster!)
Dancing Flame
A mean ole bastard…

Gabriella stretched her arms out over her knees watching the dancing flames.  It had been years since she had been home, twenty six, she never thought this day would come.  She had left on bad terms with her father, but then he was not a pleasant person for anyone to be around.  She thought often about the day he caught her with Jacob in the barn.  He nearly beat the boy to death, a local football hero who would never play the game again. He got by with little more than a slap on the wrist after the local police, who he attended church with, learned of his reasons.  It was several weeks later before Gabriella could come up with enough strength of her own to leave her life in Kentucky behind.  An attempt to run away from her nightmares, at eighteen she did not realize they were always there looking back at her in the mirror.
The beating she had gotten because of Jacob was more than she could describe leaving a noticeable scar under her eye but they did not compare to the ones on her back.  It wasn’t the first time he had laid his hands on her.  At fourteen she had come home with a book about Jack the Ripper.  “Blasphemy” he yelled, “there was to be only one book allowed under his roof.”  It was weeks before she returned to school.
                                                      
She watched the flames dancing in the blackness.  She could almost see the figure of a woman one arm outstretched toward the heavens and the other wrapped around her body with a circle of flames at her feet.  She could see her face looking back at her seductively, wanting Gabriella to join her.  She knew who it was calling out to her.  She would never forget those eyes.
Gabriella had just turned nine.  Her mother had been gone almost two years for reasons she still did not understand but had come to suspect her father had murdered her.  She woke to the sound of a woman’s voice.  She still thought to this day it was her Momma trying to warn her, to help her to escape the terrifying life to come.  She thought she felt her warm loving touch on her face but it was only the summer night’s air creeping in through the window.  She sneaked from her bed, through the house but never saw her father.  Outside the house she heard the sounds coming from the garage where her father often repaired vehicles for extra cash.  Slowly she stalked with her bare feet she was only a few steps from the door when she heard his voice, “Cmon.”  Up to the door for a peak, she saw the three women immediately for the moonlight shinning in from the other door.  “You will show me the way,” her father yelled out.  They were bound together, unable to scream with her father circling them much the way she had seen her dog survey a carcass.  “You were delivered to me to show me the way to god.”
Gabriella peered through, her eyes met one of the woman’s and she began to scream even through her covered mouth.  Her father circled back, harshly grabbing her jaw before turning to see what caused a glimmer of hope in the woman’s eyes.  “Mah child,” he laughed.  He would make her watch everything he did that night, a young girl who loved and trusted her father not knowing the evil inside him.
She watched the flames.  Gabriella could no longer fight the tears as they streamed down her face.  She glanced to the bloodied knife in front of her.  She had come home to confront her father.  To right more wrongs than she could ever count.  Most of all she had come home to take revenge on what her father had turned her into. 
At twenty she found herself hitchhiking trying to escape other hard times.  A trucker had stopped to pick her up and tried to take advantage.  She saw what he wanted the moment he opened those doors, stepping inside she knew she was given a purpose in life.
(697 Words)

Mid-Week Blues Buster Week 10

So, it’s been awhile 🙂  And I’m getting this in just before it ends for the week.   Click the picture to check out all of the other entries to this weeks Mid-Week blues Buster.

Cassidy took her friends advice, if she was going to get a true feel for Louisiana she had to spend time in the country.  She needed to get a real idea for her newest horror romance novel about a Were-Panther and his bride to be.  She knew more than most living in Atlanta, but born in the country, there was more to life than what was seen in the cities.  She wanted to see the real flavor of the Cajun atmosphere.
The young man who had told her about the ball seemed charming enough with his deep dark brown eyes.  She was quick to take notes on his odd pupils when she was back in her car, they were odd in a way she would spend a lot of time describing them in her next novel.  They were perfect for her lead. 
She had searched for the Voodoo Eclipse on the web and knew immediately it was something she wanted to experience.  Once a month on the full moon the club would host a swinging dance, costumes of many varieties and she could only imagine what would happen when the moon was high and the patrons were as well.
It was harder for her to find something to wear.  She couldn’t just stroll into the club with her hair back in a ponytail with t-shirt and jeans.  She didn’t want to stand out having seen the pictures posted on the website.  Something she couldn’t help but smile about, there was a map to the club as they made it clear most gps would only get her lost.
The thrift shop she found was a blessing, mostly for the long flowing white dress, it was a size too big and longer than she wanted.  A quick trim with scissors took care of the length and a couple well placed over sized belts fixed the rest of her look.  She was lucky, she had packed her favorite boots and though they looked out of place with most outfits but with stocking and the dress she felt happy as she peered in the mirror.
“This isn’t real…”
She felt like she had stepped into the pages of a novel, the front yard had two large full willow trees.  The club itself looked like an old plantation home, lights strung across the porch and into the yard making a walkway.  She crossed the yard and as she walked up the screaming steps the man appeared from the shadows.  She had not seen him before but he startled her as she reached the top.  He never said a word or even looked her in the eye as he opened the door.
Cassidy was just as shocked by the inside, the long stairway just inside the front door but to its left was a dance floor filled with dancers.  She couldn’t contain her amusement, mouth open there was a band across the room on a small stage jumping and dancing and having a good time.  She could barely make out the music all her senses were on fire one after another grabbed at her demanding attention.  She could smell the sweet candles as they hung high but she couldn’t identify the scents but it was not long before she again found herself starring.  The women in their sleek dresses swinging with their partners in their pressed clothing and none of them gave her even a glance as she circled about the room.  She had finally closed her mouth but forcefully held there as she could not stop biting her lower lip.  With each step she felt her heart in her throat.  It was magnificent.
He stepped into her path, leaning on his cane she slowly looked up into his eyes.  He was much taller than her, frighteningly so.  But the eyes were familiar and she knew them immediately.  Though he was much older than the boy who had told her about the club the odd pupils were distinctive.  He starred down into her and he smiled showing his enlarged canines.  She felt her heart stop in the fright of the moment, she felt as if she had stepped into another world.  

Let’s talk about Werewolves!

Let’s talk about Werewolves! 
Today I threw myself back into editing Howling Moon. I haven’t made any progress really since I got feedback from my beta and realized I was going to have to go all the way back over the novel again.  We all know I hate editing right?  Right???  This will be the third time since the first of December I’ve gone over this manuscript and I realize now I probably should have gotten someone else to look at it after I went over it the first time.  Okay, I did want to ask someone…and tried throwing the hint out there but was afraid to ask that person.  Because after my first go over I knew at least it was complete with no gaping holes in the story.  Though saying that there has been some stuff I’m going to change as I’m going over it this time and fix the couple problems I have with the story.  Okay, not problems as much as a couple nitpicks I have with the final five chapters of the book.  After all, I have to be 100% satisfied with it or I will always have these nerves about others reading it.  And why should anyone else like it if I still have those doubts. 
Okay, this topic isn’t about my novel as much as I’m seeking opinions.  Opinions on types of werewolves.  It isn’t going to sway my opinion or even the type of Were which is in Howling Moon.  That is set in stone, err, on paper anyways.  I’m just more curious to see who prefers what types…
Type One:  The Wolfman –  the most classic but also probably the least used.
(Picture is from 2009’s The Wolfman, don’t own the picture)
Type Two:  The Hybrid – And I’ll admit, this one has always been my favorite.  And it’s the one I’m most familiar with.  Prime examples such as Underworld, The Howling, Bad Moon, Silver Bullet, Dog Soldiers, etc.
(From 2002’s Dog Soldiers, don’t own the picture)
Type Three (and my least favorite):  The wolf – The version of the werewolf which is most popular now days…  Examples – Twilight, True Blood, even the new Hemlock Grove on Netflix. 
(From HBO’s True Blood, don’t own the picture)
I know there are other types, Ginger Snaps I’m looking at you…
Another question, favorite werewolf movie?
And for anyone interested…sometime this summer I will have a blog begging for betas for this novel…  Just have to wait and see (that is if I get through this edit, 🙂 )  And if you are curious about more information on this story, check this blog entry out:  Be Inspired Blog Hop:  Howling Moon