At Last! And a Little Preview for You.

I Thought My Career was on its Deathbed, but it was Only a Bad Dream

 

DEATHBED DRAWING

I feel so bad that things have slipped so far as far as this blog and my publishing…I really thought I’d have things up and running sooner than this, but the Vampire 2016 had to eek out the last drop of my blood…

It hasn’t been all bad. I haven’t been idle.  I have six first drafts to edit and all but one should be fairly easy. Dark Reliquary needs a full second layer because of the way the characters worked out. The others won’t be hard. Its just that, while my life was so unstable, all I could write were first drafts. Those kind of poured out, and I wanted to take advantage of the energy while I had it. The second Poppy Farrell Mystery: Taller Than Our Souls, went into a cul de sac plot-wise, so I had to set it aside. for a while. The Russian Doll got longer than I’d planned as did The Vampire’s Bride. This was meant to be a novella. sequel to The Vampire’s Mirror, but it is now a full length novel.

I know there are no excuse,s so I hope to make this up by publishing a lot of things fairly quickly as all these get finished. I hate to let my readers down, but my life has been a roller coaster forever… But—that’s why I have so many stories to tell. I also had a species of writer’s block. It wasn’t for lack of ideas, but lack of words. I couldn’t think in words! Terrible thing for a writer!

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Little Preview

In 2007, I outlined a novel based on some harrowing supernatural events that I experienced in London. I think of the plot as Dan Brown meets Anne Rice: an Occult Thriller. It involves a family curse and how the protagonist, Madeleine Dashwood, deals with her legacy.  It takes place in London, Ireland, New York and finally Salem Massachusetts. I have been in all of those places, but one pivotal scene happens in Toledo, Spain and I haven’t been there. I was waiting and hoping to have the money to take that trip, but haven’t gotten it yet. I also filled up several notebooks trying to find a way to begin this book, how to structure the plot ( it began as a screenplay with a flashback) and whether to focus more on the Thriller elements or the Dark Fantasy. Finally the solution arrived and it merges both very well, and runs in a  chronological fashion. People like that best, I hear. I also found Madeleine wanted to tell the story in her own voice, therefore First Person.

The story is very scary and I think that was another reason I put it off. The things I have to tune into and immerse myself in, are dangerously dark. But the plot is exciting and has great twists and turns. Madeleine is a sympathetic character and her struggle is intense. I think people will enjoy the strangeness and mystery of Madeleine’s quest to understand her nature and find her stolen soul.

I early January, I had a dream of how to start The Demon Lover and it began pouring out of me. So again, I am writing a first draft. What I want to share is the Prologue to this book. It will give you a foretaste, a teaser.Though the Prologue is satirical, the rest of the book is serious. I hope you enjoy this!

I will get these books  done—all 6 novels,plus a few short pieces, by 2018.

I am aware that the title, The Demon Lover, has been used many times before, for centuries in fact, but it is the perfect title for this story. If you think of something better, please suggest away!

 

DASHWOOD

 The Demon Lover

Churchyard Bottom Wood, London

1760

Sir Francis Dashwood, Grand Master of the Order of the Friars of Saint Francis of Wycombe, better known as the Hellfire Club, raised his forked staff to the night winds of the north. He raised his staff to the forest, to the high oaks, copper beeches and mountain ash, to the owls and gathering crows. A ring of tall cathedral candles flared round the circumference of the clearing, while within its orbit, twelve hooded men stood with raised staffs, intoning the incantation in sacred mimicry of their Grand Master.

Though outsiders viewed the Order with skepticism, thinking it a mere front for secret debaucheries and drunken revels, the inner circle quested after more profound mysteries. On this thirty-first day of October, 1760, Sir Francis and his men had slipped away to the Borough of Haringey, marched in procession through the vast oak groves of the Forest of Middlesex, to the secluded glen of Churchyard Bottom Wood to commence their most solemn and nefarious Rite.

They’d performed this ritual many times before with, (they in their besotted minds believed), no result. Still the demonic spirits were said to take notice of them. Drawn to the theatricality of satin robes and gilded staffs shining like jewels in the midst of the wildwood, they waited for greater enticements to manifestation. Barring that, certain alignments of a moon and stars would enable them to step through the curtain of the night and astonish their devotees.

Sir Francis would have liked to perform a blood sacrifice, but could find no volunteers. So pointing his staff at the earth, at the dark depression in the ground that was known as a plague pit because skeletons had been discovered there, he passed a dagger across his palm and let his blood flow freely to the earth. He called upon the infernal powers, by the issuance of blood and terror, to rise. His merry men intoned in unison, the responses to his cry.

The crows circled lower; winds tore through the trees scattering leaves like motes of fire. The etheric flames that marked the Circle of Art sprang up, bright blue in the dusk. Sir Francis marveled at the distant echo of a hunting horn. The trees rustled, and the ground split open, emitting smoke as from the fiery pit of Hell, into the woods.

Every living thing grew still and silent.

The hunting horn echoed again.

Sir Francis fell back, for he saw a sight he never thought to see. Out of the trees, tall and smoky, with eyes shining yellow in the night, stepped a shaggy, naked god. Rising from his head were the horns of a stag; rising from his loins was an enormous cock.

Sir Francis trembled. Gripping his sweaty staff he looked around to see all of his men lying face down on the ground, hiding from the horror of their deity.

The god stared. Its eyes flashed as if lightning crossed them. Its antlers rose up like trees. Though sprouting from the head of a man, they were not incongruous, but magnificent. Primal. Terrifying.

What do you want? the voice growled from the shadow of the god’s head.

The god was outside of the circle of blue fire, manifest in the red-flamed Triangle of Arte, therefore under complete control of the Magus. Watching the creature’s cloven hoof inch toward the very edge of the mystic line, Sir Francis raised his staff.

“Give me power, oh Master. Power and riches and long life. Nay! Grant me the secret of immortality!”

The god seemed to seethe, to grow taller, to loom.

What will you give in exchange for such treasures?

Sir Francis hadn’t thought to wage a bargain. The Rite had never worked before. He didn’t want to give anything up, for everything he owned was precious to him. He had to think fast.

“Money! I’ll leave seven guineas on the altar for you.”

The god roared.

Do not mock me!

“Oh… You don’t want money? What could you possibly need? Being a spirit.”

The god leaned toward Sir Francis, its head transgressing into the protective barrier of blue flames. Its whisper was like a serpent’s hiss.

Souls… I need souls…

Though shaken and humbled, Sir Francis wasn’t about to give his soul to this demon. He thought of something distant, so far away as to render it meaningless.

“A soul you shall have. One of my descendants. Seven generations from now. Does that suffice, Master?”

The god stood up. How tall it was! A veritable giant. Its eyes glowed brighter in its shadowy face and it seemed to smile.

Sir Francis’s head spun. He stabbed his staff into the ground and leaned on it as the entire forest swirled around like a carousel. He tried to focus his eyes on the antlered god, but it had melted into the night-blown shadows of the woods.

“Aaaahhhh!” Sir Francis cried from he knew not where. Utterly bewildered, he doubled over, clutching at his chest. The emptiness was horrible, as if his very guts had been burned out.

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London

Highgate

1978

And round about his home, the glory

That blushed and bloomed

Is but a dim-remembered story

Of the old time entombed.

                                                        —-E.A. Poe

 

The previous pages are from a novel about an infamous ancestor of mine, Sir Francis Dashwood. The minute I read them I knew, deep in my soul, that I was the seventh.

I did not own the book. It was in my father’s abandoned library hidden amongst stacks of genealogies, history books, and various notebooks filled with my father’s feverish handwriting. The book was a dog-eared paperback with a lurid cover of a half naked woman inside a red pentagram on a black background. Hellfire! was scrawled across the top. The author’s name escapes me. Though the book looked as if it been read many times over by my poor, tormented  father, the importance of these particular pages was signified by both a ribbon marker, and a turned down corner.  Though I was taught never to deface a book, I tore them out. I tore them out because they belong to me, and I can’t tear them out of myself.

The sins of the fathers shall be visited on the daughters.

So, somewhat, the Bible says. I know the Bible through and through. It is tattooed on my brain, and shackled to my wrists as tightly as these pages from my father’s penny dreadful, Hellfire!

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The Russian Doll


Its time to get back to work. Soooo…

I am working on a short story to get myself back in the game. I wonder if my writing has changed after all this time. I know I have.

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The Russian Doll

This story, The Russian Doll, was conceived as part of a larger work called Vampires on the Orient Express. But I decided to focus on it as a short story or novella. I find these Russian nesting dolls intriguing. We all think we now what is inside—and that’s just the point. What if the doll was used to to hide, or mask something else? Something illicit or fearful, or otherworldly?

I found in my research that there were all sorts of nesting dolls. The Babushka, or mother type, the Fairy Tales type, but there are also religious icons and perhaps other things…

Put together: bram Stoker’s friend, a, English newsman on the Orient Express going into part mysterious and unknown, a strange bookshop and a group of Russian dolls, Not far away, in the middle of a lake, is an island monastery called Snagov, that holds the grave of Vlad Tepes.

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My protagonist, Alex, is a reporter for the London Illustrated News  and good friend of Bran Stoker whose novel Dracula., has just take the world by a storm. Stoker has confided in Alex that his evil hero, Count Dracula, was not based on the actor Henry Irving, Stoker’s employer at the Lyceum Theatre in London and spitting image of Vlad, but in a actual prince of Wallachia. He sets out on the Orient Express into the wilds of central Europe, to find out the true story of Dracula and bring it back to London and the news.

He gets no leads until he arrives in Bucharest and finds an antiquarian bookshop that sells much more than books.



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I’d spoil the story if I said any more about it. research hasn’t been too heavy or difficult. But i always learn interesting things along the way. Enjoy these postcard images on Bucharest in the 1890’s..

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Remote and mysterious…

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Babushkas

 

I hope you will like this spooky story. I’m hoping it will finished quickly and well.

Fangs to all of you!

Alyne

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Mark of the Beast Anthology

A bit of news!

 

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I sold my short story, Thirteen,  to an editor in 2012. Its a Red Riding Hood inspired werewolf story that I have since published on my Gothic Faery Tales blog.

http://gothicfaerytales.com/2013/02/16/thirteen-a-gothic-re-telling-of-red-riding-hood/

I was supposed to be paid, but it didn’t seem to be happening, so I wrote it off. Well, lo and behold! I got a check in the mail for $77!!! The anthology came out in 2015. It takes a while for creative projects to come together.

If you like werewolf stories, (and obviously the editor,Scott David Aniolowski, has great taste) then check this out:

http://www.chaosium.com/mark-of-the-beast/

 

MARK OF THE BEAST

A COLLECTION OF WEREWOLF STORIES

Every civilization has some story or legend of creatures half man and half beast. Indigenous native peoples around the world held beliefs about shamans and witch doctors who could transform themselves into animals. The ancient Egyptians worshiped a whole pantheon of animal-headed gods. The superstitious folk of medieval Europe believed that a witch or a gypsy could curse a man to become a werewolf by night. Pacific islanders told tales of men changing into sharks. Certain African peoples feared leopard men.

Coming from all over the world and from every culture, werebeast legends naturally vary. Among the ways said to become a werewolf include being bitten by a werewolf, being bitten by a normal wolf, a potion or curse from a gypsy or a witch, a family curse, a genetic disorder, drinking rainwater from the paw print of a wolf, wearing an enchanted pelt made from wolfskin, through a pact with Satan or a demon, through the act of cannibalism, etc. Some werewolves have no memory or control over their change while others do. Some change only by the light of a full moon while others can change at any time. Some werewolves look like normal wolves, some look like giant wolves, and still others are mutant man-beasts. Some are solitary and some live and hunt in packs or clans.

Herein are gathered a number of tales portraying the glorious and bestial nature of the werewolf. There are horror, sci-fi, Gothic, cyber, fairy tale and fantasy stories and poems that embrace the essence of the beast, told by an assortment of scribes with diverse styles and voices.

Now the Full Harvest Moon is rising and the soft wail of the autumnal wind begins…

Edited by Scott David Aniolowski

288 pages Trade Paperback.

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I owe you guys a proper blog post, but life has been getting in the way of writing these days, even to the blog. I do have plans though. Once things settle down I’ll be back on it. In the meantime, I will be doing the mundane tasks of formatting my novels, The Shadows, The Haunted Garden, and Roses of the Moon for print.

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Gothic Marionettes

 

fireworks

Cheers!

First I want to wish you all a Happy New Year! I know I’m not alone being glad to see the backside of 2015. As the little kid said, “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Chip off the old block, I’m sure….

I have been getting back to work on the pending books. A great help has been The Nine Day Novel by Steve Windsor. I figured I owed my readers at least an attempt to get a book done in nine days. Alas, life kept intervening. As it does. But I do have two very solid and detailed outlines to work from now, and that is half the battle won! These tales should be out in the Spring if not earlier.

i have three other first drafts, so I’m in good shape. Still behind on the 5 Year Plan, but that can happen to anyone, right?

Thank you for your patience….

Gothic Theme of the Month: Puppets

At the top of this post you see fireworks. These are not only part of the New Year celebrations, they also evoke the work of one of my favorite authors, Angela Carter. Her book of short stories, The Bloody Chamber, is one that inspired me to want to write fiction, ages ago! It took living in London to find my stories, though. One of her short story collections is called Fireworks and there is a story in there called :The Loves of Lady Purple about a very erotic and sinister marionette. She also wrote an award winning novelThe Magic Toyshop, which is extremely weird and deals with this puppet theme. I found a filmed version on youtube which I post for you below, in case you are not quite ready to give up the gloom.

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Something about London seems to bring out this murk of the soul. My other inspirational author, Tanith Lee, was also British and wrote in this poetic and macabre vein. In my case, I was sent toward these Gothic themes for the sake of what Carl Jung used to call: Shadow Work.

This Shadow Work began for me in the early 2000’s when my imagination was invaded by the ghosts and demons that lurk in the London ethers. As you know, my books are dark, dealing with themes of good vs evil and the moral struggles of the protagonists. I do believe that our moral choices can make or break our character, and that good and evil are absolute.

Now that I know these things to be true, the black veil has lifted and I feel redeemed…. I will continue the current projects until they are complete I will probably write Romance on the side–to vary the metal/ emotional diet as it were…. That’s how I feel now as the light at the end of the tunnel washes over me.

I also want to share this old movie from 1944. It ties together Angela Carter with the Bluebeard theme, and has some wonderful marionettes. Its called Bluebeard and has a very nice plot and a very young John Carradine who looks pretty striking.

My own Bluebeard story, The Keys, has not marionettes, but automatons, which are their kissing cousins. This tale was directly inspired by Angela carter’s Bluebeard re-telling, The Bloody Chamber.

If somebody wants to make a film out of The Keys, let me know and I will add it to the Gothic Library. It has zombies….

I like this puppet theme. Ever since I was a child i loved puppets and dolls. But not all children love them. I did a brief stint as a puppeteer in a marionette house. We had to make the marionettes ourselves, so we really bonded with them. There was always a part of the show where we took the marionettes into the audience, to meet the patrons. Some of the children left screaming….

I think their instincts were actually pretty good.

And what are all these puppets and marionettes, you may ask? Masks, perhaps. Or animated beings without souls, certainly.

My automatons were a bit like Stepford wives…women reduced to robots, a kind of living dead. What makes them Gothic is the relationship to the subconscious, our fears, perhaps, of what we might be if there were no God.

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Looks like poor Angela Carter ended her days in a wax museum…

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2016 Must Start Early!

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Some of you may know I was slowed down in 2015 by a need for Rehab, and a day job search that began to take over my life. That’s how hard it is to find a job in Seattle these days!

These things, and a few other special, secret influences, slowly made it extremely difficult to enter the altered states of consciousness from whence the stories flow. Its a miracle Morna: A Celtic Tale of the Selkies made it out into the world when it did. I hope you have all gotten your copies for 99 cents. Please leave a review! The price increases to $2.99 on December 1st.

Astrology

Some of you may also know that I have been a professional Astrologer and Psychic for many years. The celestial influences have not been kind to me. The first half of the year was great in many ways, but Mercury went retrograde in Libra mid-September, triggering all sorts of distasters in my Venus ruled chart. It has been Dance with Death. How many things can you lose at once and still be on the planet?

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2016

One thing I know needs to change in this blog. I feel my entries on here are quite boring. Too businesslike and not really me. That is because all my creative energy goes into writing the novels and I don’t have much left over for the blog. My Winterspells: Life on the Magical Path, Legacy of the Witchblood blog was quite another story, but I wasn’t writing fiction when I was working on it. Go here: http://www/houseofwinterspells.com. Its also in the tab under Magic. All that stuff is woven into the novels now. The posts are really good though, if I do say so myself.

This blog was gaining great popularity when I bailed on it. Silly me! I didn’t see how it could turn into a writing blog at the time. Now I do.

I’d like to do a podcast in 2016. This is a matter of getting the technology together so there is no fan hiss.

Novels

I also need to return to the novels I had planned for 2015. I may get The Vampire’s Bride finished by New Year. Its a novella, sequel to The Vampire’s Mirror. That one took me two weeks to write. This one could make it through!

Then I have the first draft of Dark Reliquary. Its a big project, but it goes well.

Sovay: Prelude to The Lady in Yellow, is in first draft as well. These two books could get finished early next year.

The second Poppy Farrell book, Taller Than Our Souls has been a bear. It got stuck in the middle and I haven’t been able to unravel it. This was actually demoralizing for me. I’d never had writer’s block before.

So these are the plans I can stick to so far. If I got these books out, it would feel great and there would be three series with more than one book in them. Lol!

Please pray for me to stay motivated and you’ll have more to read from me. Let me know what you would like to see for 2016 from me, as well.

Here’s a good winter read!

Click for The Vampire’s Mirror

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