SUPERNATURAL CENTRAL
Wednesday, April 10, 2024
COVER REVEAL: MARKED UNDER THE MIDNIGHT SUN Book 3 (Susanna Storm)
Thursday, April 4, 2024
INTERVIEW WITH MARK TOWSE (Chasing the Dragon)
Supernatural Central Short and Quick Interview
1. Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.
2. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?
3. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?
1.
It’s me on the pages of this book: the same upbringing as Simon, the same claustrophobic and uncomfortable environment, all dictated by my iron-fisted mother. If I left crumbs on the counter or a cup next to the sink without washing it, my life would not be worth living. And God forbid if someone parked outside our house or started playing loud music. In those cases, the day, possibly week, would be ruined. My mother even uttered the words, "When will the chaos end?" at one point, thus the multiple references in the story. The Reformo connection is all about the fantasy world I often escaped to.
Writing this was incredibly cathartic and therapeutic. At its most basic, this is a story about someone trying to escape trauma. Even when Simon’s mother is dead, her voice lives on in his head. He just wants to be free of it, free of the baggage, and to live a normal life. Whatever that means. The only way he believes he can finally escape her hold is to have a cape made by the local chain-smoking seamstress, Janice and take to the streets to “End the chaos.”
Life is imperfect and so are we.
2.
I’m not sure one would class it as a paranormal experience, but I have a memory forever burned in my mind from a visit to Scotland. There were four of us. Kids. No more than twelve. While our parents rested from the long drive, we ventured into the woods, promising we would not go too far. That was often enough reassurance in those days.
The sun was on its way down, creating all sorts of skeletal displays on the forest carpet. Hide and seek was our go-to in those days. Always a winner. I recall finding a good spot behind this massive tree. Oak, I think it was. A shudder just ran down my spine when I think back now. Anyhow, I heard breathing coming from behind. I closed my eyes and pinned myself against the tree, hoping I might get away with it. The breathing got louder. And louder. I closed my eyes tighter still. I was sure I would be found, but I felt no tap on my shoulder. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw my three friends in the distance, searching high and low in the bushes and trees.
It was just me and that—breathing?
I turned but couldn’t see anything. I’m not sure what possessed me, but I followed the sound, my heart jumping in my mouth when I reached the clearing. It was almost mechanical in nature, a living, breathing patch of earth that opened and closed like a mouth. Wisps of mist expelled from the darkness. I froze. I tried to cry out to my friends, but the scream lodged in my throat. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was David. When he saw the ‘mouth,’ the blood ran from his head. My other friends arrived then, and we all stared into the darkness. Then we ran like the wind.
To this day, I have no idea what it could have been. Part of me doesn’t want to know… the part that still holds on for dear life to the awe and wonder we often felt as children.
3.
I have a book coming out from Wicked House Publishing in January 2025 called 'The Sound of Suffering." It's a much more serious piece of work. Once again, as a lifelong tinnitus sufferer, it's loosely based on my own experiences. Only there are more sinister undertones at play with our protagonist. Every reader on the submission board confirmed the book as the best manuscript they'd seen to date. I'm a little excited about that one.
I'm currently working on two projects: a collaboration with Daemon Manx called 'Try Not to Die in Arcranium,' a spin-off from our very successful novella, 'Arcranium,' and a solo horror novel set in a small British seaside town. Both should do well. Hopefully.
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Book Trailer: https://shorturl.at/fiSY1
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
SPOTLIGHT: THE HOLY MAN'S SINNER-Blood Coven World (T.M. Smith)
Excerpt:
“Tell me about these selfless acts which will heal me.” Her lips caressed the glass as she sipped her drink.
Nelo’s breath caught at the sight. Remembering the conversation, he puzzled his chin with forefinger. “Good deeds will fill your days and contemplation your nights. At the end of your healing, a worthy, seductive male awaits your recovery.” He patted his chest. “The male would be me.”
“Cruor, you lack humility.”
“It is a flaw I work on.”
“In the meantime, you’ll assign me to a soup kitchen until I feel better about myself?”
“To something. Not a soup kitchen.” He tilted his glass, swallowing a sip and noticing how Elisabeta watched him.
“How do you know your solution will work?” she asked.
He rolled the amber liquid in the tumbler. “I am the Cruor, a male wise beyond his years.”
“With only a small flaw.”
“So tiny. Not worth mentioning.” He threw back his drink, rose, and shoved out his hand.
Monday, April 1, 2024
INTERVIEW WITH LUCINDA WICKED (Cosmic Requiem Circle)
Supernatural Central Short and Quick Interview
1. Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.
The main characters of this book would be Lady Death and Mistress Misery. They are actually based on characters I created and have been cosplaying for over 10 years. Lady Death is a bubbly curvy woman who has no problem reminding you of your place in her world. She is Death and has been thought and seen the world since the dawn of time. She doesn’t see the world as one where she needs anyone except her reapers which she only creates laters on. She doesn’t even want Misery around. But you’ll have to read the series to get to know more about her.
2. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?
I do! I believe that spirits watch over us all the time. We spend time with them and they help guide us sometimes when we need it.
3. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?
As of now we are actually working on a few titles. This year we plan to publish a total of 6 books! They are: Chatalos of Chaos which will come out in May 2024. It's the Novella that explains how Mistress Misery Started the Black Plague. It is a mini story based on the Cosmic Requiem Circle Series. The next book that I am currently finishing up is Whispers Across the Styx which is a story that’s a modern day take on the Greek Gods Charon & Circe. He’s Morally Grey and a biker. She's a tattooed and curvy Baddie. It's a good little mix going on with spicy and trigger warnings. That will come out in July 2024 and is open for Pre-Order today on my site. The next would be Serpentine Symphony which goes into the modern story of Norse gods Loki and his wife Sigyn. This is one that is close to my heart as they very rarely talked about as a couple. They as well will be pushed into a modern era. That is expected for August 2024. The final two will be books 2 and 3 of the Cosmic Requiem Circle Series. They are expected for October and December of 2024.
Excerpt:
Death was finally able to take a nap, she rested, moving to a beach in her dreams. As she sunbathed, she felt a ripple through her dream. An odious black thing streaking the sky. She felt a subtle tremor in the cosmic threads, a disturbance that distrusted her sleep, bathing her dream world in darkness.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She said, stretching her hand for her scythe. She got up and took off the sarong, slipping her arms through the sleeves of a satin robe.
With the sharp edge of her scythe, she ripped through the fabric of the dream world.
“I actually put a lot of work into creating this one. This better be worth it.” Death murmured, stepping out of the dream and entering a black void.
She found herself standing within the threading—a vast expanse where the fabric of existence intertwined.
Threads stretched in every direction, touching each other in a complex web of interconnections. Each thread was connected to another. They revolved around a small spool in the center.
She found herself, a small piece of black lopping around each thread.
“What is it this time?” She said into the endless void, her voice echoing.
Tainted threads manifested before her, the red threads had clumps of black glue choking it. Her face contorted in a grimace.
“Damn. That’s a lot of dirt. What has this soul done?” She asked. “Come. Let’s go find them. Someone has to die.” She sighed.
She stepped into Misery’s dream. She was lying awake in a dark space.
“Really? You have the ability to think of anything and this is what you choose?” She said, scoffing. “You’re unbelievable. I don’t know why I bother.” Death finished.
Deathless eyes stare back at her.
“The dark is comforting. You should know that better than anyone else. It is home to vile twisted things like us. Come lay with me.”
“Would love to but this is a bye bye text. I’m too lazy to reach for my phone. I’m killing two birds with one scythe.”“That’s not how the saying goes.”
“Who cares.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Somewhere terrible. " Death said.
Misery sat up, the shadows binding her to the black space falling away. “Where are you going?”
Death looked up, trying to convince her eyes to unsee Misery soft, white, naked, eyes open in ecstasy.
“To hunt a tainted thread.” Death said mindlessly.
“I’m coming with.” Misery said.
“You’re not. You’re busted up. Why are you naked?”
“I sleep naked.” Misery said, brows scrunching in confusion.
“I did not need to know that.” Death said, making a strangled noise. “Why do you insist on coming with me, Misery?” Death questioned, her mood souring. She looked at Misery with cold emotionless eyes.
Misery, undeterred, responded, “I’m connected to the balance as much as you are. I’m connected to you. It’s a roundabout thing. won’t stay idle when darkness threatens.”
“Everybody is connected to me, little psycho. Try again. I’ll be the last to leave this universe when it ceases endless existence. I’ll turn the lights out behind me. I’ll escort your soul to the after life too. Try again, Mise.”
“I have no soul.” Misery grinned, cracking open her chest to reveal a black empty space.
Death scowled. “You’re still not coming along.”
“Yes I am. I’m coming to cover your ass.”
“Literally or figuratively.” Said Death, her lids lowering. Misery flushed, disappearing into the shadows.
“Well. I’ll see you when I’m back.” Death said.
“I’ll be downstairs in five minutes. We both need to get dressed and you take ten years to change your clothes.” Misery said at the same time, wrinkling her nose.
They looked at each other, both frowning.
“I’m coming. The End.” Said Misery, disappearing into the shadows. Death cursed, opening her eyes.
She stood up, heading to her closet. She yanked out a long flowing lace vest and a pair of leather pants. She wore a silk shirt under the vest, the lace vest on it and a corset on the whole ensemble.
The lace looked like it was sewed to the corset. She slipped on a pair of black studded six inch stilettos and raced outside, sliding down the railing to the foyer.
She rushed outside, opening her Mercedes and taking a seat in the driver’s side. She pulled out of the castle, doing a victory dance.
She dialed Misery’s number, tapping her acrylics on the screen joyfully. The phone rang from inside the car.
She looked back to see a grinning Misery lounging in the back seat.
“You have to be shitting me.” Death said, shaking her head.
“I wish. You’re not supposed to leave people you’re going out with at home.” She said, laughing. She smoothly maneuvered herself from the back seat to the passenger’s side.
Friday, March 22, 2024
INTERVIEW with TRACY COOPER-POSEY (Crossroads Magic)
Supernatural Central Short and Quick Interview
1. Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.
Anna Crackstone is somewhat unique for main characters; she’s “of a certain age”. And she’s facing a very challenging time in her life that includes divorce, financial disaster, an estranged daughter, and to top it off, a mother who dies in mysterious circumstances.
In short, Anna’s life is turned upside down.
2. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?
I have always considered myself a nerd, who prefers evidence and proof. I’ve tried to maintain a logical mindset, always.
But having said that, I have seen some very strange things…”coincidence” just don’t stretch that far.
The power of the mind is of particular interest in that regard. I’ve seen people overcome amazing odds, to return to full health, or beat physical challenges.
Then there is the “power” of luck. I don’t think luck is a power of its own. I think people attract luck. My mother wins nearly every contest she ever enters. Way beyond the average.
So, in the end, I just don’t know.
3. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?
I’m building the plot and the outline for Grace of Lancelot, which is the 10th book in my Arthurian fantasy romance series, Once and Future Hearts.
After that, I’m starting work on the next book (currently untitled) in my science fiction romance series, The Endurance.
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Excerpt Chapter One
The only thing I was worried about as I headed back to my apartment building was the spot on the back of my hand where hot fat had left a burn the size of a nickel. Small, but mighty, the burn throbbed and ached, reminding me it was there. It was worse when the sun hit it, which it did frequently. It was one of those perfect, mild days in December, when you could actually see the sky over L.A. and it was blue.
Who am I kidding? The burn spot wasn’t the only thing I was worried about. If you were to ask me, I could rattle off a dozen major and minor problems, including the sumo-sized rat I suspect was trying to take up residence under my kitchen sink. But those were all chronic problems.
The burn on my hand was new and painful. I didn’t need new problems and was trying my best to ignore it until I could slather aloe vera gel on it. Marjorie, at the diner, had hacked off a leaf from the plant sitting in the pot outside the kitchen door when Deborah, the assistant manager, hadn’t been looking. Marj had wrapped the leaf in plastic. It was in my bag, along with the serving of pecan pie which Deborah had ordered the waitresses to throw out because it was too old. Three days old…there was nothing wrong with it, and it had more calories in it than the egg and toast I had lined up for dinner.
In this world that wasn’t the one I would voluntarily choose, today was turning out okay. Pecan pie, and Hobgoblin of History in my ears. I had been waiting weeks for book fifteen of M.K. Lint’s fantasy series. The library had doled it out to me yesterday and I was on chapter three. Harry the Hobgoblin was looking for the Fairy Eloise, this book; he’d lost her at the end of the last one, because he hadn’t closed the Doors of Eternal Flame in time and a demon had abducted her.
I like reading. I like it a lot.
My building was a white monstrosity that did nothing to enhance the L.A. skyline. The white had long ago turned to a stained, dull grey. Five years ago, a fire had broken out on the top floor and burned out a few apartments. The black smoke had billowed up out of the windows, staining the walls above them. The stains were still there and every time I saw them, I had to remind myself they were smoke stains, not black mould taking over the building. Black mould seemed more appropriate.
I turned off the audiobook, stashed my phone in my pocket and headed for the front door. I only used the front door when I came home from work. Usually, I used the side door, because it was closer to the bus stop.
There was another homeless person sitting on the front steps, leaning against the wrought iron bannister as if they couldn’t prop themselves up, their jean jacket pulled in tight. It wasn’t that cold, although this late in the afternoon, any warmth in the day was beginning to fade.
I swung around the homeless person’s worn boots, and up the steps, digging out my key.“Mom?” The voice wavered.
I whirled, my heart rate climbing, to face the woman rising from the steps, a denial on my lips.
Blue, short, spiky hair. A nose ring. Black eye makeup that had run…or that she had been wearing for too many days. The black looked like bruises.
“Ghaliya?” I asked, for the high cheekbones, narrow chin and high forehead were hers. So were the blue eyes—even if they were blood shot. The next question was right there, behind my teeth. What the hell are you doing here?
Ghaliya pulled the jacket in around her once more. She’d lost weight since the last time I’d seen her…two years, two months and five days ago. And about thirty minutes.
“The super said you’d be home around now,” Ghaliya said. She bent and picked up a small black backpack that had been sitting under her knees and straightened.
Was it possible she’d got taller? She’d been an inch shorter than me. I didn’t think she was shorter than me anymore, and I am nearly always the tallest woman in the room.
I didn’t ask why she was here. That was obvious. She needed help.
I hefted my keys instead. “You’d better come in.”