Tuesday, April 18, 2023



Today we welcome Tania Gold to the page. Welcome, Tania!

Supernatural Central Short and Quick Interview

  1. Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.

The main character, Zachary Phillips, is an emotionally wounded vampire. After being turned at the age of 21, and found out he was part of a prophecy, he finds himself trapped in a world where he as no choice but to follow his brothers orders. He is obsessed with freedom from his brother, and it stems from almost a century which is what makes him struggle to choose between love and freedom.

Ivy is the secondary main character, and the love interest. She is a carefree, spirited young woman who turns into a vampire at 21, also finding out that she is the prophesied Vampire Queen. She endures on a journey with the guidance of Zachary to meet her destined King. Only during that time, she falls for the wrong vampire.

  1. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

I don’t really believe in the paranormal however I do think I once saw a spirit. I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night to see a man standing next to me, wearing glasses, watching me. What stood out to me was the glasses were quite old fashioned, round thick lensed ones. I squealed and hid under the covers not daring to take a second peek until I woke up the next morning to an empty room. I try not to think about it often, but it has scarred me, and I can never forget that night. 

  1. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

I am currently working on the sequel to Prophecy of a Vampire. I’m aiming to get it completed this year and I think it’s a good time too, as reading the reviews for the first book can help guide me with what readers want for the second.

I have a second work in progress which is a Romantic Fiction with drama and steam. It’s still in the developmental phase and I hope to have it completed in 2023.

Prophecy of a Vampire
Tania Gold

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: March 29 2023
ISBN: 978-1509248247
Number of pages: 254
Word Count:66572
Cover Artist: Diana Carlile

Tagline: One prophecy, a thirst for blood, and a tangled web of lies…

Book Description:
It’s been almost a century since Zachary Philips was turned into a creature of the night. A brooding man with a thirst for freedom and for blood. When he hears of the prophesied Vampire Queen being reborn, he hatches a plan to gain his freedom. Soon, their lives collide and although they are opposites, their sizzling sexual chemistry binds them together.

It doesn’t take too long before Ivy Litt finds herself ensnared by Zachary. She also realizes she can’t stay away from him. If only she knew about the web of lies he was spinning.

Will Zachary’s past and cry for freedom ruin his one chance of happiness, or will Ivy’s thread of humanity change the course of what could be something special?

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“Ivy, there is nothing you can do about it anymore. You might think that what you did was bad, but you protected yourself and it also happened to be in the natural way, for a vampire, that is. Which you are now, so you must learn to understand, and live with the knowledge that this will be a part of your future. You will get angry, you will get thirsty, and that thirst will be to kill whoever stands in your way. In this case, the mutts were advancing on you, and you did the natural thing and retaliated with fangs.”

 I give her another light squeeze, which then turns into my thumb, rubbing circles on her shoulder, just as I have done in the past. I feel her loosen up a little and all the anxiety and distress fleeing her body.

About the Author: 

Growing up with a passion for writing, Tania Gold, a wife and mother of two from Sydney, Australia, has always enjoyed delivering exciting stories to an audience. An avid reader of Fantasy and Romance novels, she had dreamed of creating her own world full of exciting and loveable characters.

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Ties That Bind Series
Book One
Liza Snow

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Date of Publication: April 4th 2023
Number of pages: 617 pages
Word Count: 155000
Cover Artist: MiblArt

Tagline: He’d searched a lifetime for the perfect student. She’d always dreamed he'd be her teacher. Together they’ll soar in the silks.

Book Description: 


Growing up, I was mesmerized by a man soaring the skies.

The greatest silk aerialist in the world, Chandler Moreau.

He was once my lifeline, the dream I clung to after my parents died. I’ve always believed he was my destiny. To join him at the Dreamers Academy. To perform for him.

To soar with him.

He’s more than I ever imagined. Far more than a mentor. When I am high in the silks, turning, flying, falling, he’s my lifeline once again. Twisting my heart and my body into knots like the knots of his beloved Japanese rope bondage, Shibari.

I don’t want to live without him. With each lesson, each touch, I crave more. Only he can satisfy me. And only he can destroy me…

But I must keep him safe from the past that relentlessly follows me.


She is my protégé, the student I’ve been waiting to take under my wing for my entire career. Someone with whom I could share my lifelong journey in my family’s circus, Cirque du Lys.

I never intended to fall in love with the student I was supposed to protect—from myself and the demons that lurk in my shadows. But sometimes fate has other plans.

Cassandra, my beautiful butterfly. I know she’s off limits. Forbidden. Still, I want her in my life. My heart. My bed.

My grandfather's taunting words still linger.

Mieux vaut plier que rompre.

Adapt and survive.

It’s what we must do. Cassandra and I share a history that entwines us more than the silks we’ve spent our lives mastering ever could.

There are secrets from the past that must never be told. And truths that could destroy what we’ve just begun…

More to Love

In addition to the paperback, Obedience is also available in a full-cast narrated audiobook, starring Daniel Zbel and Rapunzaroo, along with a cast of additional voiceover actresses. 

Brought to life in the way the story is meant to be told, and it will be the best audiobook you listen to this year—possibly for a very long time.

You’ll love listening to the two voices of these iconic characters. And don’t forget to read along with them and enjoy a fantastic, immersive experience. You’ll need the paperback copy to fan yourself off from some of the narration!

Listen to An Audio Excerpt Here: 


I hadn’t needed to prompt her. She began, pulling herself upward, drawing those silks around her small frame as she went. Climbing high into the air as the two women began their duet. The French lyrics pulled me in every time. It was perhaps one of the reasons that while I simply tolerated most opera songs I’d heard, I adored this song.

Every time I heard it, every time I got lost in those little nuances of the language, it brought me back to summertime in Melun, France. Playing on the hills overlooking the city, lost in the grasses filled with wildflowers. Climbing into Meme’s apple trees. Perhaps the time in my life when it had felt so simple. All there were, were the memories of when I’d been happy.

And if there was any place I wanted to be, as I watched Cassandra ascending above me, knowing in seconds I would be right beside her, it was in those memories again. Bringing her with me.

The first stanza finished, and my mind immediately centered. My hands had already been wrapped in the silks without having to think about it. She paused, and I saw her attention drift downward. We fell captive to one another, and it was all I needed to see. I knew it was my turn to go to her. She was waiting for me.

In the same fashion she had moments earlier, I began my way up the silks beside hers, which had been a deep royal purple color. The entire time I made my way high into the room, I immersed myself in the French lyrics, the strings complimenting every rise and fall of the two women’s voices. Some moments, I’d lose myself in what I was doing, taking careful note of all the little adjustments my body was making. Other times, my attention drifted upward. Until finally, I was just beneath Cassandra.

When I paused again, I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself. Focused entirely on the beautiful woman above me, who was just as attentive to me. I nodded to her, signaling I was ready, prepared to follow her in whatever she had thought to do next.

At the precise moment when I had met her, she had already begun moving herself into a sailor pose above me, legs splitting, and much to my satisfaction, every single part of her in perfect position. All the small details I’d shown her the first lesson we’d had together were as pristine as when I’d helped her myself.

I would have taken more time to truly enjoy how proud of her I felt if she hadn’t twisted downward, dropping her torso straight toward me in a graceful fall. Before she’d completed it, I knew what she’d done. A Rainbow Marchenko. A famous move of Jeanne’s for many years. But watching her as she settled into it, I would have thought it was hers alone.

Cassandra’s hands dropped, releasing the silks. Dangling inches away. The only thing holding her in the air was the precise folds of those green fabrics wrapped around her legs.

Looking into her eyes as she hung there, waiting for me to act, all I could do was smile. She’d been focused, lost in her own world, but she’d come back to me. We were together again in the very place I had wanted to be with her ever since I’d seen her flying through the silks at her audition. I had dreamt about it every time since, every lesson we had, every time I’d watched her from the shadows of the theater while she practiced.

I had taken her to those fields in Melun with me, high in the trees. Trapped us both in those treasured memories, made all the better knowing she was there.

“I’ve got you, Cassandra,” I called out to her, gently. Steadying myself, my body locked in place. Breathing slow and rhythmic and calm. I watched her take the same breath as I had, waiting for the little drop in the lyrics before the next few lines began.

The moment their voices bellowed into the theater again, she let herself drop in a salto. In a gentle sweep of my body, I caught her gracefully into my arms. Twisted us together, letting the silks take hold of the two of us as we swung across the room, dozens of feet above the stage below us. Falling like two feathers locked together, dancing into the wind.

When the fabrics released us, I swung us outward. Our bodies drifted apart again as she spun around me, both of us still descending toward the floor. As beautiful as she looked, circling outward away from me, the moment she had, I wanted her back. I used my legs to give myself enough momentum to swing forward, latching on again once she’d appeared.

Cassandra had been so close I’d felt her breath against my face while we dangled above the stage. I got lost in the way it felt to be tangled up with her, a mess of bodies and fabric. Consumed by it. Convinced I might never let go of her again.

As we’d traversed the rest of the way back to the stage, I didn’t. The two of us descended together as a singular unit, just her and I and the fabrics. Improvising the graceful fall we were doing, finding little tricks and motions to carry out, all the while never leaving her side.

We’d both reached the floor, perfectly in sync with one another. I heard a gentle thump as we landed. Followed by the sound of both of our light, audible breaths. Steadying ourselves back on the ground.

Even having left the air, the silks still wrapped around us. Neither of us had freed ourselves. Cassandra was still in my arms, something I realized, when I hadn’t been so caught up in what we were doing all those feet above us, was happening for the very first time.

The sweet smell of oranges overwhelmed me. Her beautiful hazel eyes, those captivating flecks of grays and greens and browns, drowned out the world around us. I watched her breathing softly, holding her to me and those silks holding me to her.

And in those next few moments, every single solitary thing keeping me from her since the day we had met no longer existed in the little reality we were trapped in. Every fear I had, every reservation, disappeared. I tightened her to me, my hands capturing the sides of her face in a gentle sweep, as elegant as every other thing we’d done those last few minutes.

Our mouths fell together, and I lost myself in her. Trapped in those profound and so unbelievably relieving seconds in which the things that had stood in our way no longer mattered.

I hadn’t thought anything could have surpassed the experience the two of us just shared.

Undeniably, it had been the best minutes I had ever spent in those silks in my entire career. As simple as it had been. And we had barely started. This was only the beginning.

But this moment now was just as wonderful. As perfect as I could have hoped.

About the Author:

A bestselling independent author from Florida, Liza has been putting romance books into her readers hands for over a half decade and has loved every minute of it.

Liza lives with her husband, her two dogs and her cat, ten minutes from the beach. When she isn't writing, you can often find her walking and enjoying outside, with a coffee and a book in hand. 

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/3yBrJhm 

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Monday, April 17, 2023



Gigi’s Monster Garage
Ghouls and Gals 
Book One
Loretta Kendall 

Genre: Monster Romance, RomCom
Publisher: Loretta Kendall 
Date of Publication: April 16th
Number of pages: 306
Word Count: 89,000
Cover Artist: LK Creative 

Tagline:  “I’m a rockabilly love’n, hot-to-trot mechanic with a need for speed. A little sass and not much class, but I'll keep you entertained and your car in the lane.” ~ Gigi Stein

Book Description:

Take a wild ride with Gigi, the former bride of Frank N. Stein, as she navigates the world of rat rod racing and explores the unfamiliar territory of understanding love. With a sassy rockabilly style and a lot of attitude, this stitched-up bad girl will capture your heart with lots of laughs along the way. Join her and her misfit friends, including an adorable Venus flytrap who can be a little naughty. Be careful and read the warning signs in the lobby - Molly Sue bites!

Get ready for motor-revving action as Gigi discovers the truth of the lost romance of her human past, uncovering a hidden agenda for why she’s not like others of her kind. Made for humans and monsters alike, Frank-n-people are nothing more than entertainment and sensual gratification for their owners, created by a madman. Not accepting that as her fate, this undead girl is blazing a path of her own.

With the mad scientist Victor’s decision to grant Gigi free will, she has mustered up enough strength to part ways with her abusive ex-husband, following a cataclysmic event that forces vintage horror monsters into the human realm. When she crosses paths with Fox Adams - a lonely human drifter, he wants to work alongside the beautiful, green-skinned drag racing icon in her infamous monster garage. Confused by the attraction to a man with dreams of racing stardom, it forces her to look into who her host body really is if she wants a future with Fox. Together, they form an unlikely bond that will show her she wasn’t just made to be a living Frank-n-mate doll. She was made for love.

Excerpt 1: Steamy Scene

“Mine,” she roared.

Whatever strength was within her from long ago, took hold at the very moment her body was about to go over the edge. Flipping him over and slamming him to the bed, the power he had given her took lead. With her monster taking over, she held his arms to the bed, her lip snarling from lust.

Fox didn’t seem to mind when she growled at him again as if about to go on the attack. He just laid back and let her freely take control. When she finally let loose, there was a brief instance he saw his life flash before him, and that oh-shit feeling of clear and present danger was a little too real. Before then he had almost all but forgotten she was a monster, but now he knew for sure.

Reaching for his member lingering between her legs, she snarled. “Whose cock is this?”

“Y-yours,” he stammered out.

“I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, pretty boy. I want you to come inside me and own this pussy. You want to play with a monster. Well, let’s play.”

When finding her eyes changed at the hint of the newfound monster's rage, Fox suddenly got a bit scared. He’d never seen this with the vampire woman, but Gigi was a whole other breed.

When she grabbed his face, purring against his cheek, a dark side of her seemed almost to take over. With a slow deliberate lick up his jawline, she felt him shiver beneath her, giving her more thrill than she’d ever felt before. It was empowering, exciting, and even thoroughly erotic.

“Don’t be afraid, little pet. I always wanted a little bitch of my own. Who’s my good little bitch?”

“Gigi, I think you need to slow down,” he begged, his voice shaking.

He hadn’t been afraid of monsters since he was a young boy, hiding from the dark shadows under his bed. Yet here he was, frozen in fear of a woman he loved. Some part of him was not only terrified, but immensely turned on by her innate ability to overpower him. It was then he started to understand the allure of monster fetishes.

“Are you scared, human? Don’t deny it. I know you are. A monster can smell a man’s fear,” she hissed, as she slid down onto his thick girth. “You feel so good inside me. Such a good boy.”

Rolling her hips to keep his arousal, she was loving every moment. It was a brief peck of her cherry lips to his own that showed Fox all he needed to know. She was in control, but she wanted to play. Like a feral beast set free, she was enjoying this newfound sexual freedom. Despite that bit of fear that he harbored; he’d let her have the freedom she craved.

“Do you want to play with your prey, Mistress Georgina? Can I be your little pet?”

Leaning against his cheek, she smiled devilishly, humming in his ear, “What’s your safe word?”

“Red flag?”

“Mmm. Just like a good little racer.” Biting his lip, she rocked her hips again before she said, “And green… means go.”


About the Author:

Loretta Kendall started her life with a dream and a story in her mind. For as long as she can remember, she was a storyteller, sharing tales with her friends from her overactive imagination.

After twenty-two years as an image consultant in the beauty and entertainment industry, the Indiana native revisited her childhood love for books while continuing working in photography and graphic arts. As a graphic designer she also spends her time creating book covers and marketing materials for advertising for clients.

She has been writing full time since 2017 following an amazing writing journey that led to the completion of several novellas, novels, serial stories on popular book apps, and anthologies. An award winning, traditional, and self-published author, Loretta has a passion for creating happily ever after romance stories with the perfect mix of steamy and slow burn moments. A hopeless romantic, she lives her own happily ever after of twenty-seven years of wedded bliss with her husband being a plant mom to her favorite Venus flytrap, Molly Sue.

Tour Giveaway 

Free novella download when readers sign up for Loretta’s newsletter. 

Friday, April 14, 2023

INTERVIEW WITH BRYAN COLE (Beginning of Arrogance-A Paladin's Journey)


Today we welcome Bryan Cole to the page. Welcome, Bryan.

Supernatural Central Short and Quick Interview

  1. Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.

Krell, the main character, as a backstory was lost at sea as a child, washing up on a deserted island. This has shaped a lot of who he is, including his utter lack of knowledge about the world. That is very intentional – it allows me to narratively explain things to Krell, so the reader can learn as well. It also allows Krell to stand out in his interactions with others, since all the societal norms and biases that every other character has. It gives him a narrative perspective that can be fun to play with.

Other than that, he’s a paladin – called by ReckNor, lord of the seas and skies. ReckNor values freedom as one of the lesser understood aspects of his worship, and therefore is singularly unhelpful when explaining anything to Krell. Also intentional – it lets me as the author have Krell stumbling around in the dark, trying to figure out why he was called and what his purpose is supposed to be. 

Being a paladin also involves being a warrior, and Krell is a skilled combatant with blade and shield.


  1. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

I do not – I am a skeptic, through and through. I look for a scientific rational for any unexplained phenomena, and rigorously pursue that path. 

But then, I also view other people’s beliefs in religion and the paranormal as totally cool. A you do you approach to things. I’ve found, interacting with dozens of different faiths and cultures over the years, that their belief in religion or the paranormal or something else often equates to belief in themselves. I see no reason to interfere with their choice of belief, and in many cases I’m happy to participate in a quest for understanding. They’re looking for something different than I am, but we’re all on a quest for knowledge, and that’s wonderful 😊

This is, of course, completely at odds with my love of the fantasy genre, tales of magic spells and holy warriors fighting literal demons. It excites my imagination, and I love it!

  1. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

The big one is book two in A Paladin’s Journey. Beginning of Arrogance is the first book, which lays out the cast of characters and basic elements of the setting. While it has a narrative arc and a satisfying conclusion, it was always intended to set the stage for the rest of the series. Book 2, titled Futility of Defense, is where the consequences of the actions of the characters come back to haunt them, forcing the characters to make some choices about what they’re going to do.


Description automatically generated

It opens with Krell hurrying home from spreading a detection network to defend Watford from yet another imminent assault. The other antagonists from the first book continue to be a concern, leading to confrontation. Throughout all of this, the impact of Krell’s choices create additional challenges that he has to overcome, and not every challenge can be solved with a sword. Though there are moments when he would really prefer to use that, instead of talking!

Beginning of Arrogance is available everywhere you can buy a book online, and Futility of Defense should be published in the Summer of 2023. I’ve already begun work on book 3 in the series as well!

Beginning of Arrogance
A Paladin’s Journey
Book One
Bryan Cole

Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Fat Paladin Incorporated
Date of Publication: June 30th, 2022
ISBN: 9780228868682
Number of pages: 410
Word Count: 125,476
Cover Artist: Vilenko Vujicevic

Tagline: Paladins are nothing but trouble

Book Description:

Paladins are nothing but trouble. Stories about paladins are everywhere, noble warriors riding magic steeds into battle against terrible foes. Champions of their gods. Heroes to everyone, except those who already have everything. Paladins are notorious for upsetting the balance of power, to the detriment of any who don't worship their deity.

So when Krell is called to service by the capricious god of the seas and skies, ReckNor, those with wealth and power can't help but be concerned. ReckNor hasn't called a paladin in years, and his nature is ever-changing and erratic. The fact that Krell is also an uneducated nobody with a stubborn streak as wide as the sea turns their concerns into fear.

All of which matters less than the threat clawing its way from the waves, ready to turn the ocean red with spilled blood...

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Gerrard fell back and walked beside Krell for a moment.

“So, Krell, how do you know about the Forge Father and all that? Never heard you say anything like that before, you know?” Gerrard smiled up at him.

Krell laughed. “It’s true enough, Gerrard, that my education could best be described as lacking. Most people say I don’t know anything. I grew up alone, you see, so nobody taught me anything useful. I had to learn it all myself.”

Gerrard looked at him questioningly. “Alone how? I can’t see humans, even as insane as they often are, abandoning a youngling to grow up alone.”

“Oh, I had a family. Still might, somewhere, maybe. But I was lost at sea when I was young. Not sure how young. Washed up on an island somewhere and spent a bunch of years surviving.” Krell looked up at the sky. “My memories there are… poor. Can’t remember much, but I remember the cold, the loneliness, and the hunger. Those stand out in my mind.” Krell shook his head and frowned.

“Olgar taught me basically everything I know, aside from how to survive alone. Whatever knowledge I have is thanks to him, and one thing he made sure I knew well was who all the gods and their followers are. Paladins apparently spend a lot of time in conflict with faiths other than their own.”

“Ah,” said Gerrard, nodding in agreement.

Krell shrugged and looked back at Gerrard. “Whatever else I am, Gerrard, I’m a survivor. Maybe that’s why ReckNor chose me to be a paladin. Maybe he wrecked the ship on purpose to see if I had what it took. Maybe he didn’t. Either way, I hear the call. My blade is in his service, my will is his will. His voice thunders in my head, making his will known to me.”

“Wow. You know, Kraven’s right, you are intense!” Gerrard walked along in silence for a few minutes next to him. Then he turned and said, “That sounds really hard, having another voice in your head all the time.”

Krell laughed. “Nah, it’s really easy. When he tells me something, I do it. When he doesn’t say anything, I do whatever I want.”

Gerrard frowned. “I thought paladins had all sorts of rules they had to follow.”

Krell grinned at him. “You’re thinking of followers of Hieron the Honorable, lord of justice. There’s a big temple of his in Heaford, just up the coast, where the duke holds court. I’ve never met one of his followers, but apparently he loves calling paladins, and they’re pretty common in that faith. Most paladin stories are about paladins of Hieron.”

“Not common in ReckNor’s faith, though?”

“Not remotely. Apparently, Olgar can’t remember the last time ReckNor called one. He’s… well, most people think he’s insane, and that if you don’t appease him, he’ll destroy you. A cult of sailors and the mad. That he’s temperamental enough that even if you appease him, he still might destroy you. Which is all… somewhat true, I’d say.”

Ahead, Tristan laughed. “You’re telling me you think your god is insane?”

Krell shook his head. “No, but temperamental? Absolutely. Appease him or else, which is how his faith works. Sailors and those who live and work on the sea pay homage, though for many, it is out of fear. He’s often thought of as a survival-of-the-fittest sort of god.”

Krell noticed they were all looking at him now. Orca looked unhappy, Kraven appeared to be controlling his laughter, and Tristan and Gerrard were looking at him like he was dangerous.

“So… what does ReckNor teach, then?” asked Gerrard. Krell thought about it, and Tristan looked like he was dreading an explanation. Better to keep things simple for now, he thought.

“Basically two things. The first is that the seas and skies are his, so make offerings when you use them and he’s happy. The second is that he takes joy in the freedom of choice.” Krell went silent, and they walked on for a few moments before anyone said anything.

“I thought you were going to drone on incessantly about your god and how great he is all the time,” said Tristan. Krell looked at him and smiled.

“I’m a paladin. If you want that, go talk to Olgar. I’m here to show the faith of ReckNor through action, not through words.” Thunder rumbled in the distance as if on cue, adding ominous weight to his words.

Gerrard snorted. “Did ReckNor just add some thunder in the background to make you sound more intimidating or dramatic or something?”

Kraven laughed, and Krell joined him. Orca said, “That’s ridiculous!” at the same time Krell said, “Probably!”

About the Author:

Bryan Cole is the author of the Paladin’s Journey series. New to the writing world, he spent years working in the enterprise software space, focused on quality assurance and delivery of software applications. Which is weird, because that has nothing to do with writing fiction.

For that, we need to go back – way back – to his first experience with Dungeons and Dragons. His friend Chris brought over the box set for Myth Drannor, eager to play. Together, they realized they had no idea what they were doing, because neither of them owned a copy of the Players Handbook, Dungeon Master’s Guide, or the Monster Manual.

From those incredibly awkward beginnings, a lifelong passion for epic science fiction and high fantasy adventure was born. Everything from his grade 4 teacher letting him stay after school to play a video game where you were the wizard on a quest, defeating monsters by answering math problems, to some truly memorable movies like Willow that showed him a world bigger and more exciting than the real one.

Of course, Star Wars and Star Trek have had a major influence on him. Want to get in good with Bryan? Lead with a Star Wars meme.

From one of the good movies. Otherwise, your plan will backfire.

Bryan is also an avid gamer, and enjoys video games, board games, and tabletop roleplaying games.

These days, he lives in Toronto with his wife and daughter, and his adorable cat.

Wednesday, April 12, 2023

INTERVIEW WITH PETER J. WHITE (Ghosts of a Coven Past)


Today we welcome Peter J. White to the page. Welcome, Peter! 

Supernatural Central Short and Quick Interview

  1. Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.

Roger Nimanator is a studious guy with an interest in philosophy and the paranormal. He works as a freelance editor. He is parent to two busy twin boys and is dealing with the spirt of an evil witch who is buried upright in his basement. 

His main battle is with disbelief. Hiding behind denial, he stands to lose his soul—and his children—to the witch. Fortunately, he meets a good witch who is very much alive and willing to help him out. 

He’s a good husband, father, and all-around guy. 

  1. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

I believe in the paranormal. I have seen two ghosts who appeared to me twice while I was living in an apartment in Bangkok, Thailand. I’m going to write a short version below, and I encourage you and your readers to download my free short story in which I repurpose the experience for the main character in my Ghost Hunter series, a series I call Paranormal Vigilante Thrillers. 

Please check the series out:

There’s the link to the free short story below.

The real story:

I have seen a ghost. 

Two in fact. 

They manifested themselves to me when I was living in a studio apartment in Bangkok, Thailand. 

The crazy thing is they appeared to me one afternoon while I was having a phone conversation with a good buddy. As we discussed where to meet for dinner, I paced the apartment, phone to one ear, idling playing with this and that when I noticed a smudge in the mirror over the bureau.

I looked more closely, and the smudge appeared to be a hazy mist, like a heat mirage. Bangkok is hot, so I thought maybe that’s what it was. But when I looked from the mirror to the spot it reflected: nothing.

Double-checked the mirror: definite hazy mist.

Space between the desk and the wastepaper basket: nothing.

Mirror: the mist began to coalesce. As I watched, it suddenly popped into a sharp 3D image of a young girl in a black and red-checkered dress.

Space between the desk and wastepaper basket: hazy mirage, but then, as I watched the space: pop! A little girl in a black and red-checkered dress. Sharply defined, like the best hologram you’ve ever seen. A moment of time, frozen in space.

In the mirror, a new hazy phenomenon appeared next to the little girl.

After the same back and forth, pop! The severed head of a white foreigner. It looked like his head had been ripped from his body, the skin torn where the neck met the tile floor of the apartment, rather than cut.

All this while I was still on the phone with my buddy.

When the head popped into place in real life, I backed away and told my buddy I’d meet him soon, then hung up.

And tore out of there in a hurry.

I saw them again one more time, but that’s another story…

PS: The giveaway below is a repurposed telling of this story to fit the main character in my Ghost Hunter series, what I’m calling a Paranormal Vigilante Thriller series about a former ex-special forces soldier who sees the dead. All the dead he sees died unpleasantly, at another’s hand or their own. My main character, Max, goes after their killers in an attempt to rid himself of the visions and to give the dead the peace they deserve. 

Check out the series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BMJBKL5V?binding=kindle_edition&ref_=ast_author_bsi

PSS: Click on the following link to get a repurposed version of the true story above. I wrote it to fit the main character in the Ghost Hunter series: https://BookHip.com/BQJMJXS

A different version of it appears in book four, The Bad Beginning. 

  1. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

I’ve got three works in progress:

A horror novel set on a container ship making a Seattle to Laem Chabang, Thailand voyage. Two ghosts haunt the ship (their story told in the prologue, part of which is below), both seeking human hosts to help continue their blood feud. 

The problem is, two of the passengers are already compromised by invading spirits.

The book’s working title is Container

Here’s the prologue:


Pichai Khasagone leaned over the wheel of his late-model Mercedes AMG, his eyes flicking from the road to the rear-view mirror. Sweat thickened his already thick black hair, the oily residue streaming down the sides of his neck.

He blinked as the sweat stung his eyes and raised an arm to wipe it away.

The Mercedes fishtailed around a corner on Laem Chabang Road as it arced left and south toward the port. The port glowed white and orange on the horizon, a beacon in the night, lit with bright white LED and orange sodium lights.

Pichai checked the mirror again, missed the next curve and plowed through some wooden tables and chairs set up outside a roadside noodle shop. He overcorrected, and the powerful car slid across the road to the other side, its left rear bumper kissing a ten-wheel truck.

The car jolted and slid, but Pichai had it under control again.

A glowing white light appeared in the rear-view mirror.

Pichai looked into the mirror and his whole body convulsed in terror: the head and shoulders of a beautiful young Thai woman floated behind the car, keeping pace easily. Below the ribcage, visible as glowing white bones in the moonless night, entrails dangled and glistened darkly.

Krasue, the ghost of Thai folklore. 

Pichai stomped down on the accelerator, terror overwhelming reason, and the Mercedes shot along the road for the port, engine whining.

Krasue kept pace easily.

Little whimpers escaped Pichai, something like a small dog in mortal terror might make.

He gripped the wheel so hard, he’d squeezed all the blood from his fingers, his nails white and beginning to blue.  His driving suffered for it, and he missed the final turn before the port and slammed through a laundry rack, a flimsy table, a couple of chairs and nosed the Mercedes into the side of a beach hut. 

The airbags deployed with a bang that smashed Pichai back into his seat, bloodying his nose and dazing him.

But he sat for only a split second before he scrabbled for the door handle. He lunged for the beach, forgetting he was strapped in, hands scrambling at the seatbelt, finally loosing himself to step onto the beach.

He lost his footing in the thick sand, went to a knee, then, feet kicking up gusts of sand, fought his way to his feet, and kicked for the road.

The soft ping-ping-ping warning of a key left in the ignition the soundtrack to his desperate flight as he ran, arms windmilling, mouth open in terror, drool glistening on his chin, blood dripping from his nose into his mouth, fueling his terror.

Krasue followed at a leisurely pace, a spectral cat playing with its prey.

Pichai raced past the tall concrete wall shielding the container storage area, his breath labored and shallow, stars dancing at the edges of his vision as his body began to break down, unable to continue. 

He looked over his shoulder, the movement unbalancing him and slipped and hit the road hard, slamming his head against the tarmac. More stars blossomed in the periphery of his vision.

Krasue paused to look down on him, mouth wide in a delighted smile that revealed teeth badly in need of dental and orthodonic care, stained dark brown and jagged.

Something like a laugh issued from lungs, visible as black-orange sacks in the glow of the sodium lights, the sound something like rotten meat falling to the floor—something soft and organic ripping.

Krasue hovered over him, her beautiful face a snarl of rage, her guts glowing and pulsing in the light of the port.

Her voice was the voice of the grave. Meaty. Liquid. Human, but in an uncanny-valley way.

“Big, powerful man,” she growled. “Look at you.”

“What do you want from me?” Pichai screamed.

More of the rotten laughter, the sound somehow amplifying the terror—unnatural, threatening, ominous.

Pichai rolled to his stomach, head pounding, lungs heaving, his bespoke leather shoes slipping on the fine layer of dirt over the road.

He lurched to his feet into a stumbling, forward-falling run, headed for a container ship docked straight ahead, The Ozymandias.

He lost a shoe in the scramble, but he didn’t slow down or appear to notice, everything in him pushing for the ship. 

Sanctuary, he thought. A place to get away.

Something tapped him on the shoulder and he wheeled around so abruptly he once again fell to the ground, the back of his head slamming into the road. Stars obscured his vision, and he scrambled backwards, crabwalking, spun, got to his feet and cut through a narrow lane between the stacked containers, a glimpse of the Ozymandias beckoning from its berth.

Krasue smiled, eyes glinting in the orange light and followed.

I’m editing the final draft of book five to my Ghost Hunter series, which should come out in May: What Lies Beneath.

I’m also working on a nonfiction piece that details my ongoing battle with metastatic cancer: the gist of this one is to give readers the tools to help them battle their own cancers.

Finally, I’ve started book six of my Ghost Hunter series, but it’s on the back burner right now while I work on the other projects.

I appreciate your giving me so much of your time. It means a lot to me.

Thank you!

Ghosts of a Coven Past
Peter J. White

Genre: Horror
Date of Publication: 12/12/2022
ISBN: ‎ 979-8368383125
Number of pages: 249 
Word Count: 62,000
Cover Artist: Martina Sutter-Dalton

Tagline: A powerful witch with a mission to bring the child of Satan into the world lies dead and buried under an 1885 rowhouse. When Roger Nimanator moves in, the old witch discerns in him an open door to the spirit world.

Book Description: 

A powerful witch with a mission to bring the child of Satan into the world lies dead and buried under an 1885 rowhouse in Allentown, Pennsylvania, held in place by a combination of hex and the spirit of the young woman she had impregnated. But when Roger Nimanator and his family take possession of the house, the old witch discerns in him an open door to the spirit world.

The old witch gets a grip on Roger and begins to move in the world again, her spirit hungry for vengeance and for the coming of the Dark Lord. But Roger has awakened to his abilities and has gained a powerful ally in a modern-day witch and healer. Together they are determined to put the old witch to rest for eternity.

But the witch is wily and she has found allies of her own—a legion of them. Including one of Roger’s twin boys.

A master of manipulation and deceit, with Satanic powers growing, the old witch is on the verge of bringing her vision to reality. All she has to do is feed Roger’s doubt and the world—and his soul—are hers and the Dark Lord’s for the taking.


A cat appeared at the threshold of the doorway.

A cat? A black cat? Are you fucking kidding me? How cliché.

Roger moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only he didn’t.

Body won’t obey. What the fuck?

You’re dreaming. Simple. Sleep paralysis. Told you.

This is no fucking sleep paralysis. This is happening.


The cat arched its back and rubbed itself against the doorjamb in a way that sent a shiver of dread through Roger.

Sexual. Can feel the lust pouring off the thing…

The cat stretched, yawned lazily, the yellow slits of its eyes glaring in the dim light coming through the gauzy curtains covering the bedroom windows.

Those eyes…

The cat seemed to grin at him as if sensing his discomfort.

It walked lazily over to the side of the bed, coiled itself, then leapt up. It sat for a moment, staring at him, tail twitching, unblinking eyes staring into his, lips turned up to reveal its sharp little teeth.

Those eyes…reaching deep into me, reading my secrets, measuring the weight of my soul…


The cat stood and put a paw on Roger’s leg.

Cold shot through him and he would have gasped if his body had allowed him.

The cat grinned up at him, yellow eyes glittering, lips curled back, and took another step.

It walked up Roger’s legs, the weight of the thing tremendous, out of proportion, the cold shock of its presence icy, penetrating to the soul.

Thing weighs as much as a grown woman…

How can that be?

Dreaming. That’s how. Sleep paralysis.

Wake up!

No, this is real. The goddamn cat a familiar or whatever the fuck they call them.

Don’t be an idiot. Wake up!

The cat seemed to relish the confusion and pain Roger was suffering, lingering with its paws on each of his thighs.

Then it lowered its head and butted his breastbone.

Pain shot through his chest and for a moment he was certain his heart had stopped.

The cat headbutted his sternum again and he found himself staring at the ceiling, unable to move, shadows from the streetlamp outside making ghostly shapes as the curtains swayed from the breeze coming through the cracked open window.

The shadows began to take shape: a ring of figures, dancing, flickering as if they were shadows cast by firelight. Trees in the background.

Smoke? Wood smoke and something else…flesh and hair and…

The scene suddenly so real Roger felt he’d been transported in place and time.

Nonsense. Wake up!

The cat walked up his belly to sit on his chest.

Weight tremendous. Can’t. Breathe.

The cat stretched.

And kept stretching, growing impossibly tall, changing, morphing into…

An old woman, breasts stretched out tubes of flabby flesh hanging down to her soft, sagging stomach, swinging as she straddled Roger.

Those yellow eyes stared into his, and the creature’s mouth opened, teeth a cross between a cat’s and human, blackened, rotten, with sharp fangs intact.

A foul odor issued from her mouth and added to the sense of suffocation. Roger’s mind began to fray under the onslaught, claustrophobia claiming him, panic rising.

The thing on top of him cackled again, sending a gout of foul breath into his face.

Roger tried to buck her off. To gag. To cry for help. To breathe.

Total paralysis.

Going to suffocate. Going to die any moment now.

The deep spot in his inner self was alive with panic, yammering at him:

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

The thing on top of him stiffened.

At first, Roger thought it was nearing an orgasm of some sort, but no…

Another presence had arrived…

About the Author:

Peter J. White was born in Colorado and raised in SE Alaska. He has degrees in Education, French, and an MFA in Creative Writing. He taught ELL in Bangkok, Thailand for six years, and currently teaches high school English in Washington State. Hobbies, past and present, include writing, bicycling, mountain climbing, kickboxing, MMA, and yoga.