Tag Archive: book cover

I think summer is here already.  We had those few beautiful days, and suddenly the past three have been hot and muggy.  I’m disappointed.  I shouldn’t be, because we haven’t had too many good springs here in recent years.  Most of the time now, we get a few weeks of cool, early-spring weather, and then summer arrives with the heat and humidity.  One of these years, I’ll get a really great spring again.  Maybe next year, after a decent winter.


(  Photo credit: Sorin Mutu via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA )

But the flowers are blooming, which I like (and the weeds are sprouting, which I don’t like), so I’ll just look at the positive parts for now.  One more positive is I get to watch beautiful horses racing next weekend.  I’ll get the household chores in first, and I won’t drink a mint julep, but I’ll find something summery to drink with it.

And I have a three-day weekend this week, which means extra writing time, and that is definitely a positive.  I actually got a lot of writing done last week, even though the day-job has been crazy-busy.  I got a lot of new pages written in the mornings and on my lunch breaks.  I’m aiming for a decent night’s sleep tonight, because the next two days will be busy, before a little lull, but I still want more new pages.

I have a quick snippet of story from Hunting Medudsa to share with you, too…


“You need to know I’ll die before I let him kill you,” he said, startling her.
Andi blinked, and he turned his head toward her, his green eyes as hard as his jaw. Her heart jumped up into her throat. Gods, he was serious. A hot splatter of stew hit the back of her hand, and she jerked her spoon away from the small pot to turn the burner off, forcing herself to look away from him.
“Maybe you should be practical,” she started.
“Maybe you should think about trusting me a little,” he cut in, swinging around to fully face her.
The front view was as distracting as the back, she realized, absently noting the crisp dark hair spattered over his wide, muscular chest and narrowing onto his flat belly, to that unfastened button…
She pulled her gaze back to his face when he stepped away from the cave opening.

“I got you safely away before Stavros could kill you. I just spent the last two days taking care of you.” His nostrils flared. “I don’t know how you’ve managed by yourself all these years.”
A lump pushed her heart down out of her throat, making her nose and eyes sting.
“If I haven’t earned a little trust after the last two days, I don’t see how you can ever trust anyone.”
That was low. She dropped her spoon into the pan and pushed to her feet. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“It doesn’t look like your family rushes to help you out every month.”
She couldn’t argue, as it was true, but that didn’t lessen the sting.
“So when did anyone take care of you last, Andrea? Besides me?”
“Not since I was thirteen,” she yelled. “Then it wasn’t so bad, until Annis died. Now I take care of myself.” Her vision blurred a little, and she blinked hard.
Kallan moved toward her, his mouth a flat line, his green eyes flaring sparks. “But you trust them anyway?”
“They’re my family.” It really was that simple. If she truly needed them, one of them would come.
“They’ve abandoned you to the Harvesters.” His shout echoed in the cavern.
To her horror, a tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. “They need to be safe too,” she whispered.
“So the sacrifice of one isn’t a big deal if the rest are safe?” His tone was still rock-hard, though lower in volume.
Andi didn’t want to think about it that way. His view of the whole situation was so distorted.
Wasn’t it?
“As long as none of us get the amulet, it’s okay to lose the Medusa every once in a while?” He touched her cheek, wiping away the tear there.

Another fell, and she wasn’t sure if she was angrier at him or herself. Or her family.


Now I’m going to go listen to some good music while I dive back into my tiger shifter story.  I hope you all have a really wonderful week!






My lilacs are blooming like crazy this week, so spring is definitely here.  I suppose that means that, in addition to cutting them to bring in the house, I should also be clearing out the flower beds to get them ready for the new season. Instead, though, today, I’m going to enjoy the flowers I brought inside while I write.  I could write outside, but half the neighborhood has lawn mowers or other outdoor tools running, and even in the house, I can still hear them if I don’t have my headphones on.  So I’ll put my afternoon to good use by getting more words on pages.

I’m still working on my revamped writing goals for the rest of the year, and I’m counting that as my spring clean-up.  It kind of is, because otherwise, the rest of the year will be a shambling, disorganized mess, as far as my writing goals.  Probably otherwise, too, if I don’t get update this settled.  So I am aiming to finish this new writing plan before the end of this month.  I have to.

Before I get back to the writing, I have a little snippet of Medusa #2…


Philomena let him seat her at a corner booth in the bright diner he found and didn’t protest when he told the waitress they both wanted the dinner special. She just kept thinking of her mother and Jason and the danger they were in because of her. Because if she didn’t think about that, she’d be thinking instead of the coming night and the monstrous bed in the tiny cabin she was about to share with Ryder. And that was unsafe territory after the past twenty-four hours, just as dangerous as the Harvesters, but in a much different manner.
“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Mena,” he said softly, stroking the back of her hand where it lay on the table.

She glanced up from her plate, aware of the warmth sliding up her arm from his touch. “How can I not?”
“Danny is going to make sure they’re safe.” His low voice was soothing, though it still sent a shiver up her spine in a way that was far from soothing. “They’ll be getting ready to travel tomorrow, then hit the road the following day.”
“Jason should be in school.” She didn’t let herself think of the other thing.
He smiled, setting his hand more securely over hers. “It’ll be fine, baby. I promise.”
She set her fork down. “You shouldn’t make promises like that. You can’t know for sure.”
His dark eyes went serious in a flash. “I will keep the two of you safe, Mena.”
Her stomach twisted at his words. “You should worry about keeping Jason safe first.”
“And how do you think he’d feel if I let something happen to you?” His grip on her hand tightened.

She looked away, swallowing. She didn’t want to think about that either.
“For all intents and purposes, you’re his mother, Mena. You’ve raised him since he was born. No–” he held up his other hand when she opened her mouth to protest– “just because she gave birth to him and physically lived there for a couple weeks afterward and sends him a birthday card when she thinks of it, that all means nothing. Desi is a lousy mother, but you aren’t, and Jason knows that. He’d be devastated if I let something happen to you.” He shot her a hard glance. “And even if I didn’t want you so bad my zipper’s about to burst, I’d need to keep you safe just because you’re family.”
That didn’t make her feel better. “So you have control issues and a knight in shining armor complex,” she said, lifting one shoulder.
He tugged on her hand, getting her attention again. “I may work well in protector mode, Mena, but I’m no knight in shining armor.” He held her gaze this time, his own heated. “Having a sheet of solid metal between us is my idea of torture.”


Now I’m off to write.  I hope you all have a wonderful week!



Yesterday was a very lovely day, though it was spent on household chores rather than enjoying the nice weather.  Today wasn’t as lovely, which was just as well, as I went in to the day-job to start my crazy week early.  The rest of the week should be warm, but I think rainy, which seems fitting, since the calendar is about to roll over into April by the weekend.

( Photo credit: Thomas James Caldwell via Foter.com / CC BY-ND )

There are flowers blooming, and there is even a magnolia tree at the office that had flowers opening a couple of weeks ago when we got the first rush of warm spring weather (before the snow finally came).

So what will I be doing this week?  Working like a crazy person at the day-job, and, hopefully, getting in some writing time if my brain doesn’t turn to complete mush.  Last week was almost as crazy, but I still managed new pages in the mornings, before starting at the office, and a little during lunch breaks mid-week, so I’m hoping I can do the same this week.  I’m actually ready for a vacation, I think.  Too bad I didn’t schedule one until the end of July.

I think I’m ready for spring, since my winter was a total bust.  The only trouble with it being spring is that means summer will follow close behind, and you know how I feel about summer.

Once we get through this week and next at the day-job, the craziness will abate for a little while, which is nice.  And I’ve had some good news about the friends I was worrying about.  Both have made it through their surgeries, well, so now they just have to be patient about recovering.  A little stress off my plate.  The ill family members are still worrying me, though I know worrying is a waste of energy.

So how do you stop yourself, or at least distract yourself from fruitless worrying?  I could use a few pointers.  And maybe you would like a snippet of a tiger shifter and her wolf?



India wasn’t sure how she made it through the meal. She didn’t taste anything, couldn’t even concentrate on the food she put in her mouth.
All her attention was on the man sitting too close to her, the fresh, wild scent of him driving her slowly mad, the feel of his warm fingers on her back reinforcing the throbbing in her belly, his hard thigh pressing against hers all through the meal.
She should never have agreed to meet him for dinner. What the hell had she been thinking? She needed to get out of here.
Rory’s big hand settled on her nape again. “You’re not eating, love.”
She stifled a little shiver. When he called her that, it had always made her melt, and she needed not to do that. Not tonight. Not ever again. “I’m not hungry.” She finally set the fork on the side of her plate.
“I was hoping to share dessert with you,” he teased, leaning closer so his warm breath brushed the top of her ear.
Heat burst in her middle at that. They’d shared many desserts, a long, long time ago. Damn him. “I can’t eat anything else.”
“Then maybe a walk.” He tipped his head to look at her, and she couldn’t look away.
“I need to go home.”
Instead of looking disappointed, Rory smiled, his bright eyes knowing. “Then I’ll walk you to your car.”
That was too easy. She frowned up at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his head.
He gave her nape a stroke, fingers and thumb coming together at her spine, that made her suck in a shaky breath. “Let’s go.” He reached into his pocket and took out some money, then pushed his chair back without releasing her. He held out his free hand.
If she took it… She tipped her head back to meet his gaze, unsurprised to see the heat flare in his eyes. Gathering her courage, she put her hand in his.
Rory pulled her to her feet, and into his arms.
She knew this was a mistake.
His hand slid down from her nape to the small of her back and settled, while his eyes darkened. “Come, love ,” he said softly after a moment, his hand slipping away from her spine, though he kept his other hand wrapped tight around hers.
And she let him. Just for a minute.
Or until they got outside.
Or maybe, she thought when they stepped out into the warm evening, until they got to her car.
His hard fingers were relaxed around hers, but she knew if she tried to withdraw, they’d tighten quickly, like a trap on a rabbit.
She had no intention of withdrawing her hand from his. She wanted just this little while. This moment would have to hold her for a very long time again.


Hope you all have a great week!



Since last week, the weather forecasters have been talking about this huge snowstorm headed our way, and how we would be getting a massive amount of snow.  When I went to bed late last night, we were still supposed to have about a foot of snow on the ground by morning, with another 8-12″ still to come.  Ha!  When my boss texted me early this morning to say the office was closed, it was sleeting, and it continued to sleet for about four more hours before changing back over to snow.  The sun has been out a couple of times now, though it is snowing again, lightly.  This is my ‘snowstorm’ accumulation…

Not all that impressive.  I think if it hadn’t changed to sleet early this morning, we might be a lot closer to where the forecast promised we would be by this afternoon.  Oh well.  I think this is all the snow I’m getting this year.

On the other hand, even though my snowstorm was a bust, the extra paid day off has been good for doing some necessary clearing out, and even some writing, which I’m aiming to get back to soon.

I need to redo my goals list for the year, too, though that will wait till the weekend, because it’s going to be a pretty massive redo, since my original list didn’t involve figuring out what to do with my book when my publisher went out of business.  I still haven’t made up my mind if I will head into the big, scary world of self-publishing to re-release Hunting Medusa, or if I will see if another publisher may be interested in it and the two other books in the trilogy.   Either is nerve-wracking.

But today, I am working on my tiger shifter.  He’s not ready yet for public consumption, but I have a snippet from the second tiger shifter story I think might be suitable for a cold, snowy March afternoon.


Then his pale blue gaze swung back to her face, and she couldn’t look away.
Holy hotness!
Even though she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his sky-blue eyes, she still noticed his rumpled white-blond hair brushed back from his face, the sharp angles of his cheekbones, and the width of his shoulders beneath a red polo shirt.
Vivi swallowed and dragged her gaze away finally. It landed on her drink, and she picked it up, taking a sip to wet her dry lips.
A tiger.
She needed to get away before her hormones got any happier. She put the glass down on the bar and sat back in her seat.
“Don’t let me chase you away,” the blonde said, his voice a low rumble that made her stomach clench.
She glanced toward him, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re not. I’ve just had a long day, and it’s time to go.”
“Without any supper?” He turned on his stool a little to face her.
Oh Gods. Vivi couldn’t help the flush burning her cheeks. The red shirt stretched over a broad, muscled chest, and it took her a few seconds to force her gaze up to his.
At least his mouth wasn’t curved in a smirk. Though if he’d been smirking or appeared as if he knew exactly what was going on in her head, she’d have found it easier to get off of the stool. “I didn’t actually come in for supper, just a drink with a friend.” She inched to her right.
“Have dinner with me.”
She froze. “What makes you think I’d be a good dinner companion?” she asked after a second.
His mouth relaxed a little, as if he might be on the verge of a smile. “Just a hunch. I’m sure you’re a far better dinner companion than I am. Sorry I bothered you.” He picked up his glass and took a sip of the golden liquid in it.
Vivi studied his profile for a few moments. There was something familiar about it. And something very appealing about him, aside from the face. Especially that, aside from not pushing her to stay, there was something lonely about him. “You know, telling a woman what a terrible date you are isn’t really the right approach. Probably going to bring your success rate down a little.”
He finally smiled, a slow, wide grin that revealed dimples.
Gods, she was a sucker for dimples, dammit.
He met her gaze again and stuck out his right hand. “I’m Boris.”
“Vivi.” She tamped down the little voice in the back of her head shrieking this was a Bad Idea. When his warm fingers wrapped around her hand, she shivered.
“Vivi, would you have dinner with me? You can give me some pointers on how this should work.”
“What the hell.” She was certain she’d regret this later, but it had been a long time…


I do love Boris, and when I started the first shifter story, I didn’t realize he would be getting one, too.  After all, he was married.  Then his wife turned into a selfish dirtbag and left him and their kids.  Poor Boris.  And lucky Vivi.  Eventually.

Now, I’m heading back to shifter #4, and then maybe making some grilled cheese sandwiches for supper before I write some more.




I’m still wrapping my head around knowing that in a little over a week, my first book won’t be out in the world anymore.  At least until I figure out what to do with it and its two follow-up stories. I’m still thinking about that, and when I have made a decision and a plan, I’ll be sure to let you know.


( Photo credit: DenisenFamily via Foter.com / CC BY-ND   )

In the meantime, I’m still working on my shifters, both rewriting the first book (again; I’ve almost reached the point where I hate the characters and the story, so I must be getting close to where it should be, at last!), and scribbling every day  on the fourth book (for a character I had not intended to write a book for, but he kept coming back to me, all broody and hot).

We’ve been having really ridiculously unseasonable weather here in PA this winter, but I’m still holding out hope that we might get a good snowstorm before this is all over.  It’s only February, and we’ve had snow much later than this in our neck of the woods.  I’m going to cross my fingers we get it.

And, while I go back to working on tiger shifter #4 and his winter story, I’ve go a little snippet from Hunting Medusa to share with you.  If you’ve wanted to get a copy, you only have about a week to do that before Samhain closes its doors forever.


She glanced at him. “I’m fine. You should get some sleep while you can.”
He sighed, but didn’t reply.
She knew he didn’t sleep, though. Not for a long, long time. She stared out into the dark, trying not to think of the things he’d said to her. The accusation he’d made about her family earlier. That one hurt. The other declaration scared the hell out of her.
It also made her heart beat faster with pleasure.
That was not a good thing. She couldn’t have a man in love with her who intended to kill her.
Then again, that same man had also promised he’d die to protect her. He’d already lied to his family to keep her safe.
Kallan Tassos was a lot more complicated than she would have guessed.
Hours later, her brain had simply given up on trying to figure out the tangled mess of her life when she felt his hand on her shoulder. “My turn.”
She didn’t argue this time, getting slowly to her feet and stretching. He kissed the top of her head.

“Get some sleep, meli. I’ll keep watch.” His hand slid down her back, and he nudged her toward the sleeping bag.
Andi kicked off her boots and rolled into the blankets, which were still warm from his body. She inhaled deeply, his scent making her smile a little. He smelled good. She fell asleep thinking that.
When she woke, there was faint light outlining the cave opening where Kallan stood, every muscle tense.
“Is he coming?” She threw back the blankets and grabbed her boots.

“He’s somewhere on the mountain. And he’s got company.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, but it was still too dark to see his expression.
Her heart pounded crazily in her chest, making it hard to breathe evenly. She fumbled with the laces on her boots for a few seconds, then got to her feet. “How long?”
“If they follow our trail from yesterday, five hours or so. If they follow Stavros’s eye for magic, much less.” He moved away from the entrance. “Either way, we need to be gone long before he finds this place.”
She nodded, folding blankets with trembling hands.
“Andrea.” He caught her wrists as she wrestled the sleeping bag into submission.
She looked up and found his eyes dark with concern, but his jaw hard with determination.
“We’ll be fine.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Okay.” She had to trust him on this—that he would get her to safety and not hand her over to his cousin who wouldn’t care if they got the amulet or not before he wiped her off the face of the earth.
After all, he hadn’t killed her over the past few days when it would have been extremely easy.

She paused in her folding at that thought.
The Harvester hadn’t killed her.


Hope you all have a great week!



We are missing out on the snow, again.  Our weather here this week has been extra-messed-up–mid-week it was 60, before the temps plummeted and we got a couple inches of heavy, wet snow that melted already, because the temperatures went back up into the 50s.  I want a real winter! Right now, it’s raining and looks like an early spring day more than a mid-winter day.  Of course, if we were a few states north, we would be getting buried in snow, and I would be thrilled about it.

So, what is a rainy Sunday good for?  Plenty, I suppose, like household chores and reading. Or visiting with family.  My day will probably combine some of the latter and a few of that first item.  And hopefully later some writing time before the second half of The Walking Dead season begins and our whole family settles in to watch.

I’m going to miss seeing some reader and writer friends today, but I got to see a whole lot of them yesterday, at the annual Valentine’s Day booksigning.  This was my third year of participating, and they’re always a lot of fun.  Talking books with readers and other authors is one of the best ways to spend a few hours, right?  This one was a little sad for me, though, because earlier in the week, we got the official news that my publisher is going to close up shop at the end of the month.  So I have to figure out what to do with Hunting Medusa (and the other two books in the trilogy, finally!) when I get my rights back.

Most publishers don’t want to publish a book that’s already been available from someone else, though it happens.  A better option, I suppose, is self-publishing the trilogy.  Scary thought!  I have to give this more time, to figure out the best thing to do, and then devising a plan to get it done.   Guess I’ll be reworking my writing goals for the year, once I figure this out.

Now, though, I need to go do some of those things on my rainy-Sunday list.  The pics below are some of what you missed if you weren’t at the booksigning yesterday.

dsc00239 dsc00244

And, before I go, maybe a little bit of Hunting Medusa for you…


“Aristotle Tassos.”
The elderly man started, jumping from his chair so the papers he held fluttered to the floor beside his desk.
Athena remained standing in the doorway to his office, watching his olive skin pale before he dropped to his knees, bowing his head.
“My Lady.” His voice shook.
“Your nephew has taken the Medusa away, Aristotle. How could a Tassos do that?” She glared, noting his silver hair was thinning far more than the last time She’d deigned to visit him.
“My Lady?” He straightened slightly, though not far enough to actually look directly at Her. “My nephews burn to kill the Medusa.”
“Not Kallan.” She watched his mouth drop open. “He has helped her escape.” She narrowed Her gaze on his stunned face. “How could you not know this about him?”
Her Harvester shook his head slowly. “I am so sorry, My Lady. I assure You I will find him. And her.”
“I am sure you will. I expect you will.” She set Her hands on Her hips. “Do not fail Me, Aristotle. It has been many years since your family has fulfilled its duty. It may be very bad for you and yours if you fail again.”
Aristotle nodded, bowing, his face flushed a ruddy color. Embarrassed, She was sure, by the reminder of the failures of recent years. Good. He and his should be humiliated to have been outwitted by the Medusas of the past several generations.
“I would hate to have to return to see you on this matter again, Aristotle,” She said, gentling Her tone just a little. “I understand you are loyal to Me, even if one of your number is no longer.”

His mouth tightened. “I will make sure we get her this time, My Lady.”
Athena nodded. “I will be monitoring your progress.”
She was gone before Aristotle looked up.


Oh, one last thing!  If you’ve been meaning to pick up a copy of Hunting Medusa (or any other Samhain title) you’re running out of time now.  Plus I just realized this morning (2/12/17) that it is on sale in the Samhain store for half price, so it’s probably a really good time to grab it in its original form.

Valentine’s Day is this week, so here’s hoping for a much better week this week, full of love and chocolate!


Writing Hot


( Photo credit: Frank Lindecke via Foter.com / CC BY-ND )

Yes, I’m sick this week.  Coughing from an annoying tickle in my throat.  I don’t do sick days.  The last time I had a day off for a medical issue of my own was when I had my gallbladder out a number of years ago.  I took a day off last month for someone else’s medical issue.  Today, I actually left work early because I felt so terrible, just so I could come home and rest.  So that blog title isn’t just about the sort of stories I write, but about the fever I’ve had on and off all week.  I would love it if went away now.  My brain doesn’t have room for creativity right now, when it’s full of hot and headache.  So, instead of thinking so hard I make the headache worse, I’m going to tell you about the Valentine’s Day booksigning I’ll be taking part in this year.

Saturday, February 11, 2017 from noon to 3 pm at Ashcombe Farm & Greenhouse, I’ll be hanging out with around 18 other romance authors, talking books and signing them, too.  This is the third year I’ll be participating, and they are always so much fun.  Plus for the readers attending, there are always giveaway goodies.

And now, so my feverish brain can rest, I think just a little snippet of Hunting Medusa for you.


Perhaps he was a sick bastard, he mused, slowing his pace as they went deeper into the woods and the trail narrowed. Realizing the woman he wanted most was his enemy had just turned his world upside-down. His family’s enemy, a monster created by the Goddess.
He frowned up at the dark canopy of leaves above them. He wondered if any other Harvester had ever been tempted by his quarry. Or had surrendered to the temptation. If so, he was certain he’d never find that in the lore.
He stopped walking at her quiet command, his gaze shifting in the same direction she looked. A doe and her fawn looked poised for flight several yards away, the mother watching them closely. Kallan held his breath as the fawn bent back to the small patch of grass. From the corner of his eye, he saw Andrea’s smile. He caught her hand in his without thinking about it first.
Her fingers were stiff in his for a long moment, then relaxed a little.
He turned to look down at her, studying her. The top of her head reached his chin, her dark hair curling in the slight humidity. Her bright gaze stayed fixed on the deer, but he knew she was aware of him by the way her pulse skittered in the hollow of her throat.

“Did I hurt you?” He kept his tone low, trying not to frighten the nearby animals.
She didn’t move anything but her eyes, shifting her questioning gaze up to his face.
“Earlier. Was I too rough?”
Color washed up her cheeks, and she swallowed, turning her attention back to the doe and her fawn. “No.” It was barely a whisper, her reply.
His heart pounded a little harder as he thought about taking her here, right here in her forest. It was foolish. He couldn’t. She would never agree to it anyway.
But he couldn’t stop the images behind his eyes, not now that he knew what she looked like, what she felt like around him, the way she sounded.

When she turned to look up at him again, he realized he’d tightened his grip on her fingers. Her expression was quizzical, then awareness surfaced, turning her eyes darker, like midnight velvet.
Kallan lifted their joined hands slowly, giving her time to stop him. When she didn’t, he dragged his open mouth along her knuckles.
Her lips parted slightly.
He bit one of her knuckles lightly and felt her shiver. “Maybe I am sick,” he breathed. “But I still want you.”
She shut her eyes, her throat working as she swallowed. “Bad idea, Harvester.”
His jaw tightened. For some reason, hearing her use the name his family had claimed many generations ago made him angry. He wanted to hear her use his name instead. Preferably while they were naked in her bed, bodies joined intimately as they had been earlier.
Instead of protesting, though, he nibbled his way down her finger until he could capture the tip in his teeth, then sucked it into his mouth.



My shiny new cover art! isn't it pretty?


I hope you all stay healthy! And if the ick strikes your house, I hope you have a sufficient stash of reading material!




( Photo credit: BarbaraWilli via Foter.com / CC BY )


Usually, I look forward to the end of the year.  December is family time for us, plus lots of good food from Thanksgiving through the new year.

This year is different.  Right now, I have two close family members who are sick, and our not-quite-17-year-old kitty is going downhill in a hurry.  In fact, it’s been a really crappy week and a half here, and I am not looking forward to seeing what comes next.

So.  Tell me something awesome that’s happened to you since December 1st.  I could use some cheering up, plus everyone who shares their ‘awesome’ happening from the past 17 days by this Friday, December 23, 2016 will get their name entered into a giveaway for an ebook copy of Hunting Medusa.

My shiny new cover art! isn't it pretty?

Bring on the awesome!



( Photo credit: hanna_horwarth via Foter.com / CC BY-ND )

I have the candy ready for the little costumed monsters and other assorted characters who will come knocking on the door this week for Halloween.  I even have my “The Witch is In” sign on the door, though that isn’t necessarily for the trick-or-treaters.

We used to decorate when the boys were little.  I’m not much for dressing up myself, but I do have a witch hat that I wore a couple of times while walking them down our street so they could trick-or-treat.  My husband dressed up in scary costumes a couple of times–one little girl refused to come up the driveway for candy one year, because she was too frightened.

I expect we’ll see more superheroes than monsters again this year.  I’m not sure when monster costumes went out of fashion, because there are always monsters, right?  Real and imaginary.


( Photo credit: MattysFlicks via Foter.com / CC BY )

My quest for good, scary movies is over for now.  It’s actually kind of disappointing, really, how many ‘horror’ movies aren’t scary at all.  I’m still enjoying Penny Dreadful (and wishing I had taken Megan’s advice to watch it sooner!), and am trying to wait as long as I can to watch the new season of The Fall, knowing that there will be a very long wait if there is going to be a fourth season.  There are real monsters in both of those series, human and otherwise, in case any of you are also looking for shows to keep you on the edge of your seats.

And since it’s Halloween week, I think my own ‘monster’ might be appropriate to share this time.  Maybe the legend.


Millennia Ago

Medusa knew he was coming. She always knew when the next one approached to try to kill her. But she had not been ready to die—until now.
While listening to the soft, sneaky sounds of his footfalls on the rocky path, she studied the golden goblet. It had not rid her of Athena’s curse, but it would help her daughters. As long as one of them had it, the amulet would stop them all from suffering constantly as she had all these years, limiting the effects of the curse to only a few days each month for the keeper of the goblet. Until the Goddess forgave Medusa’s foolish bragging.
Her killer drew nearer, still attempting to be quiet. Something about his deliberate pace—unhurried, careful—made her grateful she had already finished her protective spell for her children. This one would not have died as easily as the rest.

She looked around, from one statue to another—men of all ages and sizes, various weapons in their hands or tucked into their belts, all wearing the same horrified expression. Her eyes burned. She knew she was a monster. She had known not to brag so about her hair. Athena did not suffer braggarts. She had ruined Medusa’s hair, had cursed Medusa to live in exile this way—on this Gods-forsaken island, with no company but her own—as well as all her offspring.
Medusa despised living this way. She was not meant to be alone. She had never enjoyed her own company more than others’. When this hunter came, she would let him kill her.
He did not come into the clearing as the others had, charging forward recklessly. No, he came in with his back to her, watching her reflection in a shield. Clever, this one. She pretended to not have seen him, very aware of each step he took.

Soon. It would be over soon.
And she could not wait for the torment to end.
When he came nearer, she closed her eyes and prayed to Athena for forgiveness.
His blade whistled through the air. Closer, closer…



Hunting Medusa

I hope you all have a spooky fun Halloween and that the monsters are only imaginary!  And help yourself to some candy while I go back to working on hot tiger shifters!


(  Photo credit: sumeetjain via Foter.com / CC BY-SA )





(  Photo credit: krystian_o via Foter.com / CC BY  )

I haven’t quite been able to bring myself to start the second season of American Horror Story since I was disappointed with the first season.  So I have started a couple of other shows instead–Wallander, The Fall.  Wallander is a great show, though not one I am watching for scares, but for the great storytelling and acting.  And maybe for Tom Hiddleston.

The Fall isn’t scary, per se.  It is a very twisty, psychological thrill ride, with a serial killer in Belfast, and an investigator with some issues of her own who is doing her best to track him down.  The killer is creepy and smart, and only a few steps ahead of the investigator, who is even smarter than the killer.

The writer part of my brain is loving the storytelling that keeps me on the edge of my seat.  There are several moments in the first season that made me gasp out loud, things that I absolutely didn’t see coming.  I really started watching it because Gillian Anderson is in it, and I loved her on The X-Files.  Now I’m loving this show, and I can hardly wait to see what happens next.


( Photo credit: Foter.com / CC0 )

I still have the next week or so to get in my scary horror movies, so I’m still looking for suggestions.  And in the meantime, I think I have another little snippet of Hunting Medusa to share with you.


They had missed the last ferry crossing for the day by half an hour. Andi bit her lip as Kallan’s eyes spit green fire. She wondered if he was willing the boat to return for them.

She touched his back gingerly.

He looked down at her, his expression only softening a little.

“There’s a very cute inn about five minutes back the way we came. We can spend the night there and be back for the first ferry tomorrow.” She rubbed her fingers in a circle on the back of his shoulder. “Relax.”

He let out a long, slow breath. “I’m sorry.”

She lifted one brow as she tipped her head to the side. “We’re on vacation, right? No schedules.” She wished she could really think of this as a vacation and not just a life-or death flight across the world. But maybe the reminder was what he needed right now.

“Yes, vacation.” His hard mouth softened, and his gaze dropped to her lips. “I think the inn sounds like a good idea. Maybe we can find a place to walk along the shore.”

“But no swimming. That water is too cold,” she teased.

His expression lightened further. “And you with no bathing suit.” His gaze slid lower, eyes darkening.

Andi swallowed. Well.

“Let’s go get a room.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and herded her back to the car. Anticipation made her shiver as he followed the winding coast road back the way they’d come. When he winked at her while checking them into the little inn, she decided to just enjoy the time here. To enjoy Kallan. While she had the chance.

They carted their things into the room, which was farthest from the lobby, in the back of the inn, and with a door of its own leading directly onto the rocky shore. Andi opened that one and stared out at the gray waves for a long time, smiling at the birds that dove low over the rocks and water, calling to one another. She wondered how her deer were faring with her gone. Or if the moose had made an appearance in the last few days.

“Shall we take a walk?” Kallan’s big hand settled at her nape, thumb sliding along the side of her throat and making her shiver, warmth oozing along her veins and distracting her from her thoughts.

“Okay.” She gave him a smile over her shoulder before she moved away, outside, where she dashed over rocks, between clumps of scrubby grass that waved in the breeze.

Behind her, she heard his heavier footfalls, and she laughed, running faster.

He caught her before she reached the water, his hands grabbing her waist and swinging her into the air so she shrieked with laughter.

When he set her on her feet, a dangerous light glinted in his eyes, and she felt her pulse leap in anticipation.

She backed away a step, then another, and he stalked her, his steps eating up more space than hers did. Another step and her heel caught on a rock.