Saturday, August 13, 2022
NOT WELL BEHAVED WOMEN: A STEAMY ROMANCE ANTHOLOGY
Friday, August 12, 2022
INTERVIEW WITH KIM BARTOSCH (ASK THE GIRL)
Excerpt:
I was told every person experiences three deaths.
The first is when the body stops working.
The second is when you’re sent to your grave.
The third is in the future, when the last person who remembers you dies, and speaks your name no more.
My father has died twice but still lives on in my heart. But this doesn’t comfort me.
I pressed my forehead against the cold glass as I stared out the car window. Trees and buildings whizzed by sending a wave of nausea through my body. I inhaled deeply pushing it back along with a deep ache of loss. No more late night movies. No more corny jokes about how I’m not allowed to date. No more childhood home as the car pulled onward to our new lives in Missouri with my aunt and uncle.
A furry black blur dashed out from behind a billboard sign. “Mom, watch out!”
The car lurched as Mom and Rose jumped from my outburst. “Lila, what is it?”
I waited for the thump but instead only heard the steady rhythm of tires on pavement. I whirled around to find a flattened animal out the back window but nothing. “Didn’t you see it?”
“See what?” Rose asked, peeking out the back.
“I think it was a cat or dog?”
“I don’t see anything.” Rose turned back around. Her head was shaking as she nestled her earbuds into her ears. She thinks I’m making things up, again. I know she thinks I’m being the dramatic, unreliable older sister. The sister who she can’t count on, stirs up trouble, and starts fires. But I didn’t start the fire. No one believes me that I didn’t do it. It was me at the wrong place at the wrong time. I tried to explain that to Mom and Rose but they didn't believe me. But it’s been that way ever since they diagnosed me with bipolar disorder. When people know they treat you differently, even your family.
“Whatever it was, I missed it,” Mom said. Her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Lila, Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She thought I made it up too.
“Sure?”
“Mom. I’m fine,” I said.
Mom held up her hands. “Okay, okay.”
The car went silent.
Rose turned up her music, blocking me out. Mom gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white as sun-bleached driftwood. She mumbled to herself, sighed and clicked on the car’s blinker. It ticked loudly announcing our descent into the Parkville exit.
The car turned down Main Street lined with old western-style brick buildings. Ancient homes perched on the bluffs and cliffs above the town. On the other side was a muddy, choppy river flowing a few hundred feet away from the road.
“This place hasn’t changed much,” Mom said.
Rose squirmed in the front seat as she stared wide-eyed out her window, her phone held up as always, recording a video. “I can’t wait to do my documentary. I found out that this town has a ghost!”
“Well, there’s a lot of history in this town. That’s for sure.” Mom drove the car slowly up Main Street. “Too much history,” she mumbled. Mom caught her reflection in the rearview mirror and fixed her hair frantically. She had the same blond hair as I did, but her eyes were a brighter green.
Aunt Theresa and Uncle John are nice but a little different. They’re complete opposites of one another, my aunt a true Midwest lady who hugs, kisses everyone and makes the best baked goods ever, while my uncle is a rough tattooed, bald biker who tells long stories about his good old days. We only see them once a year, which is enough for me. Now I have to figure out how to live with them.
We drove through the downtown part of Parkville and entered a subdivision of Colonial-type homes sitting high on steep hills above the road. Tall oaks and maple trees shaded the street and sidewalk where families in shorts and t-shirts walked their dogs, rode bikes, and pushed baby strollers. Eventually, the houses became fewer and Mom turned on a small gravel road with a sign that read, “Cooper’s Inn”. The road wound up and our small car groaned as it climbed the steep hillside. The trees closed in around the driveway but soon opened up to a grand three-story Victorian home with a broad wrap-around porch and four spiraling pillars much like Juliet’s tower.
“Wow!” Rose was gazing out of her window. The house rested on a bluff overlooking the Missouri River, rolling hills, bluffs, and some of the town. “I always love the view here.”
My aunt waited at the back door with a warm smile and waved as we pulled up. Her long dark hair sprinkled with gray blew into her face when she stepped outside. She wiped her hands on her apron dotted with flour and dough before tucking her hair behind her ears. Mom and Rose went to greet her but I walked to the back of the car to get my bags to avoid the hugs and pinched cheeks. A flash of bright light appeared out of the corner of my eye. Near the forest small globes of lights floating around the trees. I squinted to get a closer look.
“Yoohoo, Liiilaaa!” My aunt walked toward me, arms wide open. My heart dropped and my chest tightened, bubbling up against the urge to scream or cry uncontrollably but I knew I had to get this part over. So I closed my eyes and let my aunt drown me in her arms.
It will be fine Lila.
Relax.
Breathe.
Kim is a young adult writer of paranormal mysteries and thrillers. She is fond of ghost stories and has experienced many hauntings during several paranormal investigations. She has contributed many articles regarding travel, hauntings, and more on various sites. Kim has been on several ghost hunts across the U.S. with her sister. She photographed a ghost at the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.
As an advocate for Autism and Bipolar Disorder, Kim offers her support to many charities and programs, such as Joshua Center and Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA). Kim feels there aren’t enough programs for mental disabilities. Her goal is to give as much help to set up these organizations for success so individuals, such as her autistic son and bipolar sister, will have the support they need.
Kim is an avid member of the Society of Children Book Writers & illustrators (SCBWI.org) contributing her time to many events and conferences.
Website: https://www.kimbartosch.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KimBartosch/
Blog: https://kimberlybartosch.wixsite.com/blog
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kimbartosch/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100069061958912
Tuesday, August 9, 2022
INTERVIEW WITH KATHLEEN HARRYMAN (HUNTED)
Today we're welcoming Kathleen Harryman into the fray to answer our three short questions. Welcome, Kathleen.
SC: Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.
KH: When Alice’s mother dies, her father walks back into her life. Nathaniel Quinn is a master vampire, and part of Le Sang, a supernatural law enforcement. Alice Quinn discovers that the last twenty-five years of her life has been based on lies which creates a rift between her newly discovered family and places her life in danger.
Unable to trust those around her and forced to accept her heritage and the dormant power she possesses as half-vampire and witch, Alice becomes submerged into a world of danger, where deadly forces threaten to strip away her humanity.
What ever Alice does, things tend to go a little south. She’s young, idealistic, quirky, funny, a girl with a big heart, and the best intentions.
SC: Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?
KH: Yes, I do. When I was young, I used to be afraid of the dark. Mum and Dad would leave my bedroom door ajar so the light in hall would bleed through into the room. One night I woke and there was a man standing in the hall. He was there, but not there, almost like a faded image, as if someone had turned the opacity down to 80%. He was wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans and had a bald head. We stared at each other, and then in the next minute he was gone. The image of the man stays with me. I never felt threatened, and I know he was there.
SC: Interesting! Thanks for sharing your encounter with us. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?
KH: My next project is an Angels At War Trilogy. When the Angels of Light strike at Lucifer she fights back with devasting consequences. Three children are born in an underground military facility, as part of the government’s aim to produce the perfect killing machine and guardian. These three children are different from the rest, one is the child of the Light, one a child of the dark, and the other is Death’s child. Secrets will be revealed as the universe intervenes and Mother wakes from slumber.
SC: Sounds like fun. Please drop by again. Let's look at your novel now.
Excerpt One:
“You sure that’s him?”
Polly leans over me, “yep, that’s him alright.”
The man doesn’t fit my preconceptions of a thief. Money drips off him. From the expensive cut of his trousers to the confident manner in which he strolls down the street.
Polly’s vibrant red hair flies about her face. I can taste her excitement as it floods her system. Her pink neon leggings clash with her lime-green coat and vivid orange gloves. Not quite the getup for prowling about undetected. It is, however, conservative for Polly.
No one wears colour like Polly Palmer. She’s the vivacious member in the Palmer clan. Her older brother Richard is a lawyer. His jollity left when he hit puberty. Ben is a computer nerd who has a knack for making me feel uneducated. It’s not my fault he talks gibberish.
Polly and I have been friends since nursery. Her fashion sense and easy-going nature haven’t changed at all.She’s a remarkable lady and friend.
“Look at the brazen bugger, Alice.”
Gripped within the soft leather of his gloves is the package containing the stolen antique.
The box might appear plain, but what’s inside will set you back a small fortune.
“Right, remember the plan, and stick to it.” Shadows prevent my stern glare from reaching her.
“I still don’t understand why you can’t just zap him.” My eyes roll at her words.
“Pol, I’m a Vampwitch, not a superhero. I swear you watch too much TV.” Polly flashes her teeth at me.
Six weeks ago, I found out I wasn’t human, thanks to a fire demon called Aeden. For twenty-five years I have been oblivious of the preternatural DNA within my makeup. It’s fair to say I am not dealing well with my newfound knowledge. Deception and lies hurt when uncovered.
Unable to kill me, Aeden, the candy-floss-haired monster, killed my Mum. Grief is a hard emotion. It requires acceptance in order for the person to move on. Time is also a factor, allowing the mind and heart to heal. I am in a place right now which won’t grant either. This, I blame on my father, Nathaniel, and take out on my half-brother, Julian, as he is around more than my father.
Throw in the fact I have little control over my new powers, being part vampire, part witch with a dash of fae isn’t helping the situation. Like I said, lies and deception hurt.
As the first of my kind, no one knows what to expect. I have no desire to wrap my mouth around someone’s neck and suck out their blood. A plus for me. The dormant vampire is awake and its effects on me are startling. I now possess enhanced hearing and sight. And speed and strength. There is also a need to feed on violence and strong emotions, or anything else that increases the tempo of the heart.
The witch stuff I remain uneducated about and unstimulated to find out more. I know it involves a lot of studying.
Mum’s death has changed me. I no longer dream of finding my dad alive and full of regret. Instead, I harbour feelings of resentment and wish he had stayed dead, rather than undead. I now have more relatives than I can shake a bat at, and all have my best interest at heart. It’s an appalling way to say, control you.
My tears hadn’t dried on my face when Nathaniel, Julian, and Mum’s sister Dot, informed me of my lack of humanity (supernatural birthright).
As the only daughter of a single parent, with no relatives taking them for trips to the ice-cream van or park, I find my present situation overwhelming and unwelcome.
The time for additional family sailed with Noah and his arc.
What puzzles me is their reaction to my unenthusiastic response and open hostility. They were ill-prepared for my anger when I found out the truth. Their confusion at my emotional discord leaves me baffled. What did they expect?
My attitude isn’t helping my relationship with my brother, Julian.
As a master vampire, he’s used to obedience and hates the constant challenges I raise.
Announcing my supernatural status to my best friend, sent him into a frenzy of frustrated anger. How was I supposed to know that ‘not telling anyone’ also included Polly? We share everything.
To maintain family life balance, as we all live at Roseley, Julian and I have reached a mutual understanding by agreeing to disagree.
“Your eyes are sparkling green and gold fire.” Polly’s words yank me back to the present.
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
“You know what I’ve told you about that. It’s dangerous.”
“Hm…”
Polly’s sense of humour and breezy outlook never alters. Julian will lock us up in separate cages if he finds out we’re prowling the streets with a death threat hanging over my head.
Polly nudges me. “It would be good if you could zap him.”
“Even Vampwitches have their limitations, Pol.”
“It wouldn’t happen to Supergirl.”
“What about kryptonite?”
“She can still zap.”
Mr Hobson Solicitor is inching closer. “Hm… right, time to go.”
Polly grabs my arm as I move out from the shadows.
“Be careful, Alice.”
I flash her a toothy smile. “I might be no superhero, but I’ve got some awesome moves.”
Running at a speed too quick for human eyes, I make a beeline for the thief. We collide, hitting the rain-soaked floor. The guy groans as I let out a scream of surprise – playing the part of the unsuspecting victim. The solicitor is on top, so there’s no argument of whom ran into whom.
“What happened?” His voice is like velvet, a good reassuring quality for a man in his profession.
You walked into me stupid! is what I want to say.
Instead, I let a flicker of a smile cross my lips, my brows furrowing. “I think you tripped us up.”
I arch my eyebrows, wondering when he’s going to move, so I can get off the damp stones. The hat I’d been wearing is dancing across the cobbles, and I am blinded by a mass of black curls, as the wind plays with my waist-length hair.
A flicker of surprise lights his face. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“Well, I was there. Large as life.” My arms float in the air and I sound grumpy. “If you don’t mind moving so I can get up.” Dampness is soaking through my coat into my jeans, causing me to shiver.
Vamps are cold-blooded creatures.
As a living vampire, low-body temperature makes your teeth rattle. Winter is a season of dread and rattling bones.
“Oh! Y- yes sorry.”
Polly slithers from the shadows in exaggerating moves and exchanges the boxes. She throws me a thumbs up, and a big grin, hopping from foot to foot as she disappears down the street.
Monday, August 8, 2022
INTERVIEW WITH J.C. MOORE (Hidden by the Dark)
































