tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4591951406183781012024-03-20T04:06:51.770-05:00Tales of Dark Romance and HorrorThis website makes use of cookies in order to make your browsing experience better. By using this website you agree to our use of cookies. <b><a href="https://policies.google.com/privacy?hl=en&gl=us">Click here</a></b> to view Google's privacy practices. <b><a href="https://policies.google.com/technologies/partner-sites">Click here</a></b> to see how Google uses data.
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-62859899918391877222022-03-18T14:58:00.001-05:002023-02-02T13:12:02.317-06:00About This Website<span style="font-size: large;"><code class="copy" id="code"><link href="//cdnjs.cloudflare.com/ajax/libs/cookieconsent2/3.0.3/cookieconsent.min.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"></link>
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<script nbsp="" src="//cdnjs.cloudflare.com/ajax/libs/cookieconsent2/3.0.3/cookieconsent.min.js"></script> </code><span style="font-size: large;">Enter into the frightful world of the macabre, where things are not always as they first seem. Open the gates to those obscure regions of your soul where fear and hidden desires wreak havoc with the imagination. I bid you welcome to <b>Tales of Dark Romance and Horror, </b>the official home for the fiction of A.D. Vick. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgETLbu7FnBvlnazlxzauVBIVmV_S0YxW_OJQiXHbHFoC59ZpOPWeHS2kVB1xeUMYShQSN7TFrqIlc01rneUBuUVwoWgb0GKVXd2KJUmcfN27L1KlOScUSFZs1hoL226E2EU1Rq5VctKCK/s1600/The+Darkness+Beyond+Cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgETLbu7FnBvlnazlxzauVBIVmV_S0YxW_OJQiXHbHFoC59ZpOPWeHS2kVB1xeUMYShQSN7TFrqIlc01rneUBuUVwoWgb0GKVXd2KJUmcfN27L1KlOScUSFZs1hoL226E2EU1Rq5VctKCK/s1600/The+Darkness+Beyond+Cover.jpg" /></a></div><p>
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<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxTvtMhLT3-gjYdCE2gzAEyljvaQY0w8oeKDG9-WMGXH1rR8It911n0nhHtxWBE2gjtnlsZrk02DQQ2JjKpdn8U3PPJHkGhceUD9jOZyQCIboyFTTrJlkrYyHoelTXWsR44-KvxdL6YBHT/s576/6kwdrn-front-shortedge-384.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="384" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxTvtMhLT3-gjYdCE2gzAEyljvaQY0w8oeKDG9-WMGXH1rR8It911n0nhHtxWBE2gjtnlsZrk02DQQ2JjKpdn8U3PPJHkGhceUD9jOZyQCIboyFTTrJlkrYyHoelTXWsR44-KvxdL6YBHT/s320/6kwdrn-front-shortedge-384.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p> <span style="font-size: x-large;">I'd like to give special thanks to the following: </span></p><p>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">To Lady-Moriendistock for allowing me to use her beautiful and most romantic photo at the top of this page. <b><a href="http://lady-moriendistock.deviantart.com/gallery/">Visit her gallery here.</a></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">I offer my gratitude to Miramariann and Morten Marius Hansen for gracing the cover of my book with their wonderfully romantic photo. You can check out Mira's many fabulous photographs by <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Mirahmariann">visiting her Facebook page</a></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A special round of thanks goes to Marina Bocharova for the wonderful artwork she produced to accompany some of my literary offerings. Her website can be found by <b><a href="http://margareth.ru/">following this link.</a></b> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My gratitude is extended to Conrad Sawyer for his editing of the material in <i>The Darkness Beyond the Misty Vail; More Tales of the Macabre.</i> Also, I wish to thank my good friend K. Kiera for both her editing expertise and the illustrations that appear in my newest book, <i>A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. </i><b> </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My gratitude also goes to Jeff Blevens for allowing me to use his magnificent photo to grace the cover of <i>The Darkness Beyond the Misty Veil: More Tales of the Macabre. </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Last but certainly not least, I would like to offer words of appreciation to the Insomniac, who not only offered me sound advice on various technological problems I encountered, but especially for helping to make things fit here. <b><a href="http://insomniacsattic.blogspot.com/">Follow this link to The Insomniac's Attic,</a></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<b> </b> <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Come back soon for a visit. I'm sure you'll have a horror-able time!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">You can access all three publications for purchase by <b><b><a href="https://www.lulu.com/search?adult_audience_rating=00&q=A.D.+Vick">following this link to Lulu Dot Com.</a></b></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?keyWords=A.D.+Vick&type="><br /></a><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> or you can find them at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other similar venues. They are also available in Kindle and other ebook formats. <i>A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales </i>is temporarily only available in ebook format at Lulu. </span></span><br />
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<br /></p>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-62214754037278900502022-03-18T14:35:00.001-05:002022-03-18T14:39:05.397-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: Rosalie: Return of the Righteous One<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSkPqol9So5IkWFn6CubVwtB7BIMYCaBZguymC0j7ylmRCN5ivNilLrH87F7tDIwJlbSXAax7JmD_apSf8c9S1kUhMDHev8e7vV5nnAsjVnFsTHjJo5EtnBn6mWK1aD08ZLMWS3dFHjEoUeOkBgPGefMIvF79qMX92VBilBgrveC1K6PRg1FdpVe2FOw=s3601" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3601" data-original-width="2733" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSkPqol9So5IkWFn6CubVwtB7BIMYCaBZguymC0j7ylmRCN5ivNilLrH87F7tDIwJlbSXAax7JmD_apSf8c9S1kUhMDHev8e7vV5nnAsjVnFsTHjJo5EtnBn6mWK1aD08ZLMWS3dFHjEoUeOkBgPGefMIvF79qMX92VBilBgrveC1K6PRg1FdpVe2FOw=s320" width="243" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">It has been quite a while since I have done a Creepy Samples Offering; and, to be honest, I had fully planned on having it done before this point in time. Still, as it often happens, life can get in the way. That's my excuse, and I'll stick with it.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is the last of the offerings from <i>A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. </i>There are more tales featured inside of the book than those I have featured here, but the others are rather short--so short, that I feel it's better to not take excerpts from them, and to let the reader indulge him/herself in the full story. <br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">This final offering is taken from the story, <i>Rosalie: Return of the Righteous one. </i>This <span>particular tale is the sequel to <i>Rosalie, </i>which appears in my first book, <i>Tales of Dark Romance and Horror. </i>It also crosses into the story-line of <i>The Arrival of Narkissa Laveau, </i>which appears in my second book, <i>The Darkness Beyond the Misty Veil: More Tales of the Macabre. </i>So, please allow me to delve into the meat of ;this year's offering. </span></span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>A
young boy, who with his family lives on Haunted Mountain near the small
community of Fox Grove, is found brutally murdered after being sent to
perform a simple task for his mother. Even before the gruesome news
comes to the Johnson Family, which also lives on Haunted Mountain,
Rosalie, a young but powerful witch, expresses her intuition that some
type of evil is lurking in and around the community. After learning of
the boy's fate, she goes to her secret spot in the forest where she
communicates with her long-deceased great-grand Mémére. After receiving
her great-grandmother's guidance she decides to go to the local cemetery
to see what she can learn. So, we pick up the story at the graveyard.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
A vehicle pulled to the side of the highway two days later. It
stopped just a short distance from, and just out of sight of the Fox
Grove Cemetery. The driver turned toward his companion, handing her a
flashlight before he spoke.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“I don't have a good feeling about this, Rosa. I wish you would
just forget this whole idea. Whatever is going on, it doesn't
directly affect us.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“My Mémére seems to think that it will,” she responded. “You
know that I had a feeling something was wrong even before we heard
about the Buchanan boy. If we're in danger, or unknown forces are
going to affect us, I want to know what to expect.” Her demeanor
softened as she stroked his face lovingly. “Don't worry, Honey,
I'll be fine.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Well, I'll just be at the turn around up ahead, waiting to hear
from you,” Robert told her. “Call if you get into any trouble. I
can get back here within a minute or two, if need be.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
She pulled him close, kissing him deeply before breaking the contact.
“Will do,” she responded before exiting the vehicle. “See you
soon—and don't worry!”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Rosalie waved Robert on before crossing the road. She decided not to
be covert upon entering as that might cause suspicion, and instead,
walked through the main entrance.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
She nonchalantly passed by the grave markers, reading the various
epitaphs in the deepening twilight as she made her way toward her
great grandfather's final resting place. The young woman stopped upon
reaching the familiar stone, and gazed down at it sadly before
speaking in a voice barely more than a whisper. “You filled Mémére
's heart with joy, Grand-père. I wish I could have known you.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Her reflections were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves and
snapping branches in the nearby woods—footsteps! Moving into a
state of high alert, she shined her light in the direction of the
sound, but saw nothing. The movement stopped with the flashlight's
illumination.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's probably just some forest animal, </i>she thought to herself
in an attempt at reassurance. Still, her instincts told her
differently, and she had long ago learned to trust her intuitions.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Rosalie turned off the flashlight, but remained in place, looking in
all directions, listening, dreading the possibility that she might
soon confront some unspeakable evil.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
A near silence engulfed the burial ground. There was only the sound
of a gentle breeze as it swept through the treetops. The quietude was
short lived, however, as the sound of footsteps from beyond the
perimeter of the graveyard began anew. This time, the rustling upon
the ground was accompanied by low-pitched, blood-curdling moans. They
were unlike anything the young woman had ever heard before. They were
unnatural, ungodly, and seemed as if they must have originated from
within the very bowels of Hell. She again cast her light in the
direction from which the sounds emanated, but to no avail. Whatever
horror lurked nearby remained obscured, even as it shifted around
menacingly.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Without warning, a church bell rang out, penetrating the relative
silence of the night. It tolled from atop the steeple of the
abandoned church, which adjoined the opposite end of the graveyard.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Rosalie, although startled, reacted by casting her light toward first
the bell tower, then the main part of the structure and its immediate
surroundings. She saw no sign of a human presence, however.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The bell rang out once again. This time, it continued to
chime—solemnly, slowly; its mournful resonance echoing across the
mountainous landscape. Time seemed to stand still as the bell,
accompanied by the ghastly moans, still coming from the nearby woods,
blended to form a dreadful cacophony, which betrayed the presence of
something unspeakably sinister.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Just as quickly as the ringing had begun, it ceased, as did the
grotesque vocalizations from the forest. Rosalie, completely unnerved
by the experience, pulled her cell phone from her pocket and made the
call.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Robert, come git me, and hurry!”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Be right there,” came the response.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
She had just begun to make a hasty retreat toward the highway when a
louder snapping of branches just to her right sounded a new alarm.
Halting her retreat, Rosalie froze in place as she again shined her
light in the direction of the sound, revealing a man-like figure
emerging from the woods. She gasped as the being stood in place,
staring at her menacingly. It had the shape and size of a man, but
its skin and remaining teeth were rotted. One of its eyes was
hollowed out. Its clothing was torn and ragged, but what startled her
the most was the Stetson hat that sat upon its head.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Rosalie backed away in disbelief and horror. The creature growled in
an act of recognition--mutual recognition!</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
She screamed, running for the highway as fast as her feet could carry
her, reaching the two-lane just as an illumination in the distance
signaled the approach of Robert's vehicle. It was when she got by the
road and looked back toward the cemetery that she saw, in the growing
illumination of the headlights, a darkly dressed woman, standing on
the dirt road between the church and the highway. The woman was
gazing in her direction; her eyes shining an unnatural green as the
vehicle slowed. Her stare was compelling, even mesmerizing. Rosalie
stood in place, staring back into her paranormal orbs.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Robert's voice broke the spell as he opened the passenger's door.
“Come on, Rosa, get in!”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
His partner broke eye contact with the woman and quickly got into the
car. “Robert, look! Look!”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Look at what? Where?”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Over there, on the road alongside the cemetery; that woman!”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“I don't see anything,” he responded.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Like an apparition, the green-eyed one had already vanished from
view.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Never mind. Just git us out of here. Go, go!”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Robert hit the gas pedal, and the vehicle sped back toward town--and
home!
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="CENTER" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>*</b></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Rosalie didn't look at the road ahead. She simply sat, staring
downward; one hand supportmg her head.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“What the hell happened back there, Rosa?”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
At first she didn't respond, and only continued covering her face.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Come on, sweetheart, talk to me. What upset you?”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The shaken young woman slowly lifted her head, turning her attention
toward him.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“It was him,” she began. “Fuck! It was really him.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Who?” Robert pressed with an air of impatience in his voice.
“Who bothered you?”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“It was Crawford,” she continued. “I saw the Reverend Ronnie
Crawford back there.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Now, how can that be? He's long dead. We both saw him die.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“I'm tellin' ya,” she countered with annoyance, “it was him.
But he's different. He's a monster now, a total monster.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Well, he always was a monster if you ask me.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Not that way,” she informed him. “I mean physically. He only
has one eye, his teeth are rotted. So is his skin. He looks like
something from out of a horror film.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Robert was having a hard time wrapping his mind around what she was
telling him, but he knew better than to question or challenge her; at
least, not now.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“And that woman,” Rosalie continued. “There was something
sinister about her. While I was outside the car she kept staring at
me with her green eyes. I felt like she was trying to hypnotize me.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“People can only be hypnotized if they want to be,” he
interjected. “At least, that's what they say.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“This was different. There's something about her. She's kind of
magnetic. I could feel it, but she's scary as hell.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“I've heard stories about a strange woman being around town,”
Robert explained. “Thing is, nobody seems to know anything about
her. She doesn't seem to live anywhere, but folks keep seeing her.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Yes, I've heard the stories too. Well, she's as real as I am--and
so is Crawford. Somehow, she's got something to do with him.”
Rosalie added, “I know it.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">The vehicle turned off the main road after passing through town. Not
another word was spoken as they traversed through the dark
countryside and climbed the steep terrain toward the top of Haunted
Mountain, and home. </span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, that's it for this, my latest book. I hope you have enjoyed reading these creepy offerings, or even better, the full stories in either the printed book or the ebook version. So, until next time then, keep it spooky! </span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Art work by K. Kierra. </span><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"> </p>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-4787316471153800482021-12-07T13:58:00.000-06:002021-12-07T13:58:10.889-06:00Creepy Samples Offering: No Escape<p>
</p><p align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hello there, dear readers, and welcome to another creepy
samples offering. As many of you are already aware, I just love
vampire stories. So, and in that vein, today's sample will be in that
tradition.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>No Escape </i><span style="font-style: normal;">tells
the tale of a rather religious young lady that is keenly aware that a
vampire is pursuing her, and wants to claim her as her own. No Escape
is one of the shorter stories you'll find in my latest book, so we'll
just commence at the beginning of the tale. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>T</b>he
fluorescent cross on the wall glowed steadily, casting a soft,
protective hue across the room. Beneath it, Maria slept comfortably
for the first time in weeks. She had never believed in vampires
before; at least, not until that night six weeks ago when a darkly
dressed young woman approached her at a night club. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
At first, she had been enthralled by her new acquaintance and had
been impressed with her unique style of dress and accent that spoke
of some exotic, faraway land. She soon discovered the true nature of
her new-found friend, however, for on that very same night the
mysterious woman attacked her in a dark alley. She had held Maria
fast with super-human strength; and with sharp fangs bared, had
placed her cool, deathlike lips upon her vulnerable neck. In that
terrifying moment, Maria had come face to face with the finality of
death and her own demise.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
She had managed to let out a scream of absolute terror just before
the woman's fangs were able to pierce her skin, and by some act of
God, she believed, a passerby rounded the corner. Upon witnessing an
act of violence only yards away from him, the man shouted to the
attacker, forcing her to flee.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
During the weeks that had passed since that horrific night, the
vampire's last words to her continued to resonate through her
conscious memory and in her dreams. “Do not resist me. I offer you
immortality. I will find you and we will walk together as sisters.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Then came the night upon which Maria, looking outside her window, had
seen the creature lurking in the shadows. Her blood ran cold, and
fear cut deep into her soul upon the realization that, “The
creature has found me. Oh my God, she has found me!”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Being a God-fearing young woman, Maria had sought out the counsel of
her parish priest. Having had considerable experience with vampires,
he'd advised her to put a large crucifix on the wall facing the
window. “A vampire cannot pass by the crucifix,” he'd told her.
“The power of the Lord is stronger than all the forces that Hell
can muster.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
It had taken a considerable amount of time for Maria to find the
perfect cross. She'd wanted one that would glow brightly enough that
its light would pass beyond the bedroom window, thereby keeping the
blood drinker a safe distance away. After weeks of searching in vain,
she discovered a large, fluorescent cross in a vintage shop. She lost
no time in placing it upon her wall; and with the object fully
functional, was overcome with a great sense of relief.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Finally, I can rest easy,” she told herself as she reached to
turn out the lamp next to her bed. “For the first time in weeks, I
can sleep without fear.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Outside, a figure emerged from the shadows.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Well, there you have it. I hope you all enjoyed this excerpt. They'll
be more on the way. In the meantime, keep it spooky, and thanks for
being here.
</span></p>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-48045306369833788322021-10-13T14:44:00.002-05:002021-10-13T14:50:39.076-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: Theda<p align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEaS0BE_52lc1AcFXTb5M9fTHcZq37L0ZVaC7Bth4CVuLoli_EohDwXM4KbCaSiTRiarb7Uh4wmExJSpxIqQxw5qFPLvcJw4TQEKf5JMI_GgqeRmhXfLV-9gSITFWfR47jJOEh9ABf2PEc/s2048/ThedaFinished.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1531" data-original-width="2048" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEaS0BE_52lc1AcFXTb5M9fTHcZq37L0ZVaC7Bth4CVuLoli_EohDwXM4KbCaSiTRiarb7Uh4wmExJSpxIqQxw5qFPLvcJw4TQEKf5JMI_GgqeRmhXfLV-9gSITFWfR47jJOEh9ABf2PEc/s320/ThedaFinished.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: large;">Hello, Dear Reader We have arrived at the middle of
October. The spooky season is upon us. What better time than this to
offer you another Creepy Samples Offering. </span><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">This time I am including an excerpt from a story
entitled <i>Theda. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">The tale
concerns a young man named Ross and his obsession with the
silent-film star Theda Bara, who was at the height of her acting
career during the 1910s. </span></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We pickup the story after Ross has a vivid dream in
which he finds himself in an early twentieth-century setting, where
he is confronted by the object of his obsession. The question is, was
it a dream or was it something else? </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Theda expresses her desire to come across from her realm
in order to join him in his. “You must invoke me,” she tells him
in order to bring her across the divide. With his task set out
before him, and with no idea how to abide by Theda's instructions, he
goes to an occult shop the following day, looking for answers. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p align="LEFT" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">'The next day went by agonizingly slow as Ross, eager to
put his plan into effect, first had to contend with some classes at
school before putting in a few hours with his part-time job at the
university bookstore. He finished with his commitments early in the
evening, and headed directly for the local occult shop. </span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
'The sweet fragrance of incense and the sound of slow heavy metal
music caught his attention as he entered the occult shop. The young
man's discomfort was visible as he searched for the item he had in
mind; and, in spite of his best attempts to appear nonchalant as he
browsed through the many unusual offerings, little time elapsed
before the clerk approached to assist him.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
' “Can I help you find something?” she inquired.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
'He turned his gaze toward her, and was taken by what he saw. She was
a very attractive young woman with pitch black hair, tattoos, and a
nose and lip piercing. She wore a sleeveless t-shirt that said
<i>Slayer—Reign in Blood. </i>The store clerk was unlike any woman
he had ever encountered; and, although she offered him a warm smile,
he was overwhelmed by her beauty and demeanor. There was something
vaguely familiar about her, but he was unable to put his finger on
it. Naturally, he considered the beautiful woman standing before him
completely out of his league.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> ' “I uh...” he stuttered, “I'm looking for a Ouija board. A good
one—a real one if you have any.” He couldn't believe that he got
the words out.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
'She gave him another warm smile. “It seems to me that you're a man
with big plans. Come with me. We have a nice selection.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
'He followed her to another aisle, where she pointed at the items
before addressing him once again.
</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">' “These are all authentic. As you can see, they vary in appearance
but will all do the trick. Is there anything else I can help you
with?”</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> ' “Uh, no. Thank you.”
</span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
'She offered him another smile before leaving him alone to make his
selection. He looked over the merchandise carefully. This was a big
step, and he didn't want to make any mistakes. Finally, he chose the
board that he found most attractive, and brought it to the check out
counter.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
' “Have you ever used one of these before?” the clerk inquired as
she placed the board in a paper bag.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
' “Uh no, actually I haven't.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
' “Then you should be careful,” she explained. “These can open up
the passageways between this world and the spirit world. Some people
live to regret misusing these after seeing what they've brought into
their lives. I recommend trying it with someone experienced first.”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
' “Thank you,” he responded. “I will.” '
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large; font-style: normal;">Well, there you have it. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Theda,
</i><span style="font-style: normal;">incidentally, is contained
within the pages of my latest book entitled, </span><i>A Day of
Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. </i></span>
</p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-weight: normal;">Until
next time then, enjoy this spooky month of October! </span></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> Illustration by K. Kiera </span></span></span>
</p>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-23056867863172908092021-09-13T13:47:00.000-05:002021-09-13T13:47:30.095-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: The Amazing Dragos<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Hello there, dear readers, and welcome back to another Creepy Samples Offering. Today, I'll be presenting you with an excerpt from a story called <i>The Amazing Dragos</i>, which, of course, appears in my latest publication entitled <i>A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ordinarily, I give a bit of background before going directly into the meat of the story. Today, however, that won't be necessary as I'm going to start right at the beginning. So then, with0out further ado...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>
</i></span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>V</b>asile and Mihaela
gazed at the mysterious woman intently. With only five minutes to go
before show time, she had walked into the tent unexpectedly, making
them an incredible offer.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The Amazing Dragoș, as they liked to call themselves, had been
traveling the country with McKenzie & Sons, a carnival that for
years had played to various county and state fairs. They were an
aerial act, trapeze performers, who had never advanced to the circus;
a life-long dream.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
As luck would have it, the two had crossed paths at a local bar with
a troupe of workers for a well-known circus, which had been setting
up outside a nearby city.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Management doesn’t know what to do,” one of the circus
personnel had told them. “Our trapeze act is down with the flu or
something. Perhaps you could help them out.”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
This was the chance of a lifetime for the couple. Finally, their
dream of performing for the circus might become a reality. They had
met with management the following morning, and were given an
opportunity to fill in for the sick performers. The Amazing Dragos
had been scheduled to perform that very night.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
In spite of their good fortune, Vasile and Mihaela had concerns;
serious concerns. Both were approaching 40 years of age, and the
ravages of time were beginning to take a toll upon their bodies. They
desperately wanted to hit the big time, to travel with a nationally
known circus, to perform as a couple on the top of their game. Yet,
age was slowing them down. They were past their prime and they knew
it.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The two had been attempting to soothe one another’s nerves when the
strange woman approached them.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“I can make your every dream come true,” she told them. “I can
give you the youthful vigor you need to succeed beyond your wildest
expectations.”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“And how can you do that?” Vasile asked with skepticism.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“The details are unimportant,” the stranger responded. “You’re
running out of time. Accept my offer and you’ll have a stellar
night. After that, you must accompany me to my private theater and
perform for my associates. Those are my terms.”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“May we speak about this privately for a moment?” Mihaela asked.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Of course,” came the response, “but I wouldn't delay for long,
if I were you. The act you're following is about to finish.”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The two stepped outside momentarily. Mihaela covered her mouth to
hide her giggling as she began to speak. “Where did this woman come
from?” she asked. “She can't really be serious.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“She has got to be crazy,” her husband responded. “But let's
humor her and accept her terms. It will make for a most interesting
evening. Are we agreed?”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Yes, let's do it.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The strange woman greeted them impatiently when they returned inside.
“What is your answer?” she demanded.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“We agree to your terms,” Vasile informed her.</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Yes,” Mihaela added, “we would like the stellar night you
speak of.”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“Then you shall have it,” the stranger said with a knowing smile
on her face. “Look into my eyes, both of you, and enjoy the
sensation as the vigor of youth once again flows through your veins.”</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
As they gazed into her dark eyes a strange esthesis overtook them. An
energetic flow of invigoration began spreading from the centers of
their bodies outward—outward toward their limbs, energizing their
every muscle—their every cell. Yet, there was something else as,
during the passing seconds, they continued gazing into the woman's
eyes. Her dark orbs seemed to them as bottomless pits, black holes
leading into some unfathomable place. Her eyes seemed to hold a power
over them; they could not avert their gaze. She held them fast.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
After a minute or two, the stranger turned away from them. The dark
spell seemed broken. In place of the temporary discomfort the two had
experienced, there was only the feeling of youth. They could barely
contain their energy. Their earlier feelings of doubt had been
replaced by self-confidence and a sense of certitude. Tonight would
be their best performance ever. They could feel it in their bones.
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the first time under the big
top, we present to you The Amazing Dragos!”
</span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The announcement had been made. The audience cheered and applauded as
they climbed the ladders leading to their respective trapezes. The
spectators laughed as clowns commenced with funny antics while the
couple made their way to the tiny platforms near the top of the tent.
Each of the Amazing Dragos took hold of their trapeze, and the crowd
hushed. The performance was about to begin.</span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, that's it for this week. I hope you enjoyed it, and we'll see you again in a few weeks. Until then, keep it spooky. <br /></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></p>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-35384484708122450112021-08-23T13:02:00.002-05:002021-08-23T13:05:36.501-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: The Resurrection of Wanette<p> </p><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hello, everyone, and welcome once again to another Creepy Samples Offering! </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Today's sample comes from a story entitled "The Resurrection of Wanette." It tells the tale of a young woman named Renee who has been invited to the home of an established goth couple that she met the night before at an event. We pick up the story after Renwick and Autumn, her hosts, have been impressing her with all of their spooky furnishings. After a nice visit, Renee announces that she should probably be leaving, but the couple have one more marvel to show her.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Do you mean to tell me that there are still more marvels to behold?” Renee inquired with a chuckle. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Oh yes,” Renwick responded, “the greatest marvel of them all. We wanted to save the best for last.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“It's downstairs,” Autumn informed her. “Follow me.”</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Renee couldn't believe her eyes upon reaching the basement. She gazed in amazement at a lavish coffin occupying the far side of the room. It was beautifully polished and lined with white silk. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Renee stared at the coffin in amazement. “H....how'd you get it? It's amazing.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“It just kind of came to us,” Renwick responded. “We found it on the property one evening.”</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“We consider it magical,” Autumn added, “because of the way that it just seemed to appear with nobody claiming it. Special goth points if you'd like to sleep in it.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Wh....what? Really? I can sleep in it?” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“If you'd like. It's not every goth that gets to sleep in an actual coffin,” Renwick reminded her. “And the experience will sure garner the respect of everyone in the culture.”</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Autumn went to a nearby closet and returned with a sheer, black nightgown. “You can wear this for the night, then you'll really look authentic.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“What can I say?” Renee responded. “I'd love to do it.”</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Then it's settled,” Autumn said with a smile. “You're going to have a very unique experience.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“And I feel very honored that you're inviting me to do this.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her hosts simply smiled without saying another word. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Renee emerged from the dressing room a few minutes later. She looked stunning, and was absolutely giddy from the attention her friends had lavished upon her. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“You look lovely,” Autumn informed her. “I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have sleeping in our coffin. Now, there's just one more thing we need to do before you climb in and sleep for the night.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Oh? What's that?” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Anyone who sleeps in a coffin needs to have a goth name given to them. This is a rite of passage after all,” Renwick informed her. “So, may we name you?”</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Of course,” the flattered young lady responded. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Autumn spoke next. “Then, from this moment on, you will be known by our community as Wanette.”</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“It means the pale one,” Renwick added. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Do you accept this name?” Autumn inquired. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Oh yes! Yes, I accept it, and I'm truly honored. Thank you!”</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Then we'll leave you to your experience,” Autumn concluded. Good night!” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Yes, good night—and thank you both!” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">The two retreated up the stairway leaving Wanette to her own devices. She turned out the light and climbed into a coffin for the very first time. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Wanette had no sooner gotten comfortable inside the casket than sleep overtook her—a deep sleep—a sleep that was more death-like than ordinary slumber. She didn't move or even breath. She had, in fact, become quite lifeless. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, there you have it. That will just about do it for now. And keep in mind that the conclusion to this story can be found in my latest book, A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. Until next time then, keep it spooky! </span></div>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-67465441227805034502021-08-01T14:01:00.004-05:002021-08-01T14:21:42.022-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: A Day of Reckoning<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieRTXzAyh9CB9dJp1jLYklbH8_tyHqvX_pgUD1gqvMhphr9bo2wyKQLUF6H50ywGXD4XnV9r9AbabV1tjbGy1V5jaYAlns67_lPhS0WeMeHCVwi-9QjxY1-6X7L_BF0bVDvZP27XQF8OkW/s1600/Book+Cover+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1005" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieRTXzAyh9CB9dJp1jLYklbH8_tyHqvX_pgUD1gqvMhphr9bo2wyKQLUF6H50ywGXD4XnV9r9AbabV1tjbGy1V5jaYAlns67_lPhS0WeMeHCVwi-9QjxY1-6X7L_BF0bVDvZP27XQF8OkW/s320/Book+Cover+2.jpg" width="201" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hello everyone! <span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto">
It has been two or three weeks since I posted the first in a series of
Creepy Samples Offerings for my new book, "A Day of Reckoning and Other
Frightful Tales." What I have for you today is a segment from the story
for which the publication is named. Because this offering commences at
the very beginning of the tale, there is no need for me to describe what
has been going on previous to where the story picks up. So, then, let's
just start at the beginning.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">Jessica arose with a start, and looked around
the dark room. At first glance everything seemed normal, but she
couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had overtaken her. Something
was wrong; yet, she couldn't determine what it might be. As the young
woman turned toward the bed, she gasped in horror. Stretched out across
the covers was the lifeless body of a young woman. A closer inspection
revealed that it was her own body. A trail of blood trickled down from
two puncture wounds on her neck.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">"Oh my God," she screamed. "My God! It can't be! No! Please no!"</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;">The horrific memory of all that had just occurred flooded her mind. She remembered turning off the</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">lamp on the end table, and only moments later, feeling the breath of the cold night air caressing her skin.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;">"I don't remember opening the window," she had mumbled to herself while arising to shut it.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;">Jessica recalled the electrifying fear she'd
felt when she saw a darkly dressed stranger standing by the gently
swaying curtains. She remembered retreating toward the door when he
hissed at her threateningly before opening his mouth wide, revealing two
obtrusive fangs. She recalled struggling valiantly against the
stranger's attack, and vividly recollected the sharp pain in her neck as
the man's incisors penetrated her soft skin. She sobbed uncontrollably
as she gazed upon the body that was once hers; now lifeless and drained
of its essence.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;">Time stood still as the young woman, filled with grief over her own passing, continued to stare at that</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">which had once been her earthly vehicle--a
body that once experienced pain and pleasure as well as the feel of the
cool wind blowing through her hair. She thought about the young man she
loved waiting for her back home, and how he had no way no way of yet
knowing that she would not be returning to him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">She recoiled with the thought that her best
friend, with whom she was staying, would react in the morning upon
discovering her dead body. Her thoughts then turned to her friends and
family back home, and the good times they'd all had together. Jessica
grieved for the fleeting life she once had.</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">Seemingly frozen in time, she struggled to make peace with that which had happened.</span><br />
</span></p><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">When Jessica could no longer bear the sight
before her, she stooped over in an effort to touch her former earthly
vehicle. Then, she turned and walked out the door, without even
attempting to open it.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">Upon her arrival in New Orleans, she'd heard
stories about resident blood drinkers, but had dismissedthem as
superstitious fantasy and failed to pay them any mind. Now she believed;
and, as she strode out into the darkness of the night, she promised
herself that she would make the creature pay for what he'd done.</span> </span></div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: red;">"Vampire or not," she told herself, "he'll pay a high price for what he's done to me."</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"></span></span></span></span></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, there you have it. We now have a ghost seeking vengeance upon the physical being responsible for her untimely death. Does she accomplish her mission, and if so, how? To find the answer you'll have to follow the links here either to Romance and Horror Dot Com, to the Lulu Bookstore, or you can find this particular story available independently on Kindle. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">Until next time then, keep it spooky and thanks for being here!</span></div></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span> <p></p>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-36046529875249398792021-07-12T17:12:00.003-05:002021-07-12T17:23:37.271-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: Angel of Death<p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3GSpeJTk7VgJKVzZDr4ii_9iu1q0nD1N_p7BE1_n6JT9e__DVt8MsaGTUKPvLpF02ZVlbPDHUzR8rjU0OQSAMVxlPSwMNw5JAqAvwyQ0A481ZEKOpawwl-CKUmo07FWA10S-SO-9GZbV2/s2048/LibraryFinished.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1708" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3GSpeJTk7VgJKVzZDr4ii_9iu1q0nD1N_p7BE1_n6JT9e__DVt8MsaGTUKPvLpF02ZVlbPDHUzR8rjU0OQSAMVxlPSwMNw5JAqAvwyQ0A481ZEKOpawwl-CKUmo07FWA10S-SO-9GZbV2/s320/LibraryFinished.jpg" width="320" /></a>
</div>
<br /> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hello, readers and followers. Welcome to the first Creepy Samples
Offering for my new publication,<i>
A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales.</i>
This is the first of several offerings you will find here; each one,
containing an excerpt from one of the stories contained inside the
book.
</span></div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Today's tale is called "Angel of Death." It concerns a man named Tom
Flanagan, who, due to his interest in the paranormal, is allowed to
spend an entire night alone in the Boytsville Library, which exists
within an old plantation-like house formerly built and owned by a family
seemingly cursed with a history of tragic deaths. We pick up the story
with Flanagan, having just read the final words of Scarlet Thatcher, the
last of the original family members to live in the house, coming to a
frightful realization.
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
An unusually strong gust of wind whistled around the corners of the old
building. Tree branches pounded against the windows as if attempting to
gain access to the building itself. Emotionally shaken and now fearful,
Tom turned his attention once again to the diary's very last page. The
author's last words invoked in him a sense of profound sadness as well
as personal terror.
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
"Tonight, I myself witnessed the appearance of the dark being that has
plagued my family for so long. The others are gone, and I know now that
I will soon fall victim to its inescapable grip of death. I wish for
only one thing. May my chronicles survive the passage of time and serve
as a warning to anyone who may one day discover them. Beware this
harvester of souls, this Angel of Death!
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">February, 24, 1904”</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Tom closed the book and placed it on the shelf. His blood flowed like
ice through his veins as he pondered all that had transpired this night.
Tonight, I saw the same angel that Scarlet had seen. I'm sure of it. It
was not just my imagination, or an optical illusion. I'm sure of it
now.
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The frightened man could quell neither his thoughts nor his fear. He had
seen a ghostly figure—a woman; probably Scarlet. And the books falling
to the floor with her diaries opened? Could she have been trying to warn
him?
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
The sound of a woman's mournful cry interrupted his thoughts. The
sorrowful voice, although not loud, reverberated throughout the library.
A profound understanding took hold even as pure, unbridled terror
gripped him to the core of his being. She's crying for me! Scarlet's
mourning over me!
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Then, he saw it; a dark-robed, hooded figure gazing at him from the
other side of the building. Its icy stare boring into his very soul. The
figure began moving toward him—slowly, methodically—drawing ever closer
with each step; its eyes never breaking contact. Tom lost all composure
as the being approached.
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
“No! No! Get away from me. Please, go away!”
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q">
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Well, there you have it! For information on where you can find this and
my other publications, just go to the the introduction at the top of
this front page.
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
</div><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">
Thanks for reading. Keep it spooky, y'all!
</span></div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div>
<div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">
Illustration by K. Kiera. <br />
</div></div></span></span>
<p></p>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-60446575091511304032021-06-28T14:49:00.001-05:002021-06-30T09:26:47.473-05:00A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidK81DfbC0uVZrAOXQv8K46wqRGmu283zwy3Tv0V0E7Ph6hLcRj0gjfo5UZj3TZeUJbLnu_zttdTN46TKCnIsvtj59a77y7MhWATjQebCWgmzZfKPGktQoKKjDt4FajMOCHHNxFkZ5cMeT/s576/Book+Cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="384" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidK81DfbC0uVZrAOXQv8K46wqRGmu283zwy3Tv0V0E7Ph6hLcRj0gjfo5UZj3TZeUJbLnu_zttdTN46TKCnIsvtj59a77y7MhWATjQebCWgmzZfKPGktQoKKjDt4FajMOCHHNxFkZ5cMeT/s320/Book+Cover.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am pleased to announce the publication of my next book, which is entitled <i>A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales. </i></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>
</i></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here lies the tale of a young woman,
her life taken away by a cruel blood drinker while vacationing in New
Orleans, who seeks to destroy the one that sent her to the ghostly
realms. On these pages you will find the story of a young man who,
obsessed with a firm starlet long ago deceased, strives to bring her
across the veil from the realms of the dead, to the world of the
living. Perhaps he should be careful what he asks for.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">All is not well around the small Ozark
town of Fox Grove, as the ghastly killing of a young boy and the
intuition of the young witch, Rosalie, forces her and her family to
not only confront a former enemy, now resurrected from the depths of
Hell, but the Vampire Narkissa Laveau herself. All of this and much more is contained
within the pages of this book,</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <i>A Day of Reckoning and Other Frightful Tales </i>is available on Lulu, where you can find both the print and ebook versions <a href="https://www.lulu.com/search?adult_audience_rating=00&page=1&pageSize=10&q=A.D.+Vick">in the Lulu Bookstore</a>. The new publication is also available at <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0982D79W5/ref=sr_1_5?dchild=1&keywords=A.D.+Vick&qid=1624900225&s=books&sr=1-5">Amazon, on Kindle, </a>and other places where books are sold. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">During the days and weeks ahead, I will be bringing back several of my Creepy Samples Offerings, which will provide excepts from several of the stories contained within the pages of this book. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thank you for being here!</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> A.D. Vick <br /><i></i></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i> </i></span></p>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-25832733743213638682020-02-01T10:52:00.001-06:002020-02-01T10:57:10.021-06:00Theda<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidvqam2JziHQSEfgKFOkX3TVVoDeFrrimJ6Axuicr4q5D8CkrK3rAviVudwg7jg5zILNgz7cm_2cL94eS_ret8V3d50-ZP0bNMy130KZYzImQEwFHxXisX7jxzi6oL95r7OcsWym0vGTGg/s1600/83831221_2709639035792545_368092552831696896_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="314" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidvqam2JziHQSEfgKFOkX3TVVoDeFrrimJ6Axuicr4q5D8CkrK3rAviVudwg7jg5zILNgz7cm_2cL94eS_ret8V3d50-ZP0bNMy130KZYzImQEwFHxXisX7jxzi6oL95r7OcsWym0vGTGg/s320/83831221_2709639035792545_368092552831696896_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">An overly shy college student, who is enamored with the
long-deceased actress, Theda Bara, is transported one night across the
veil that separates the realm of the living from that of the dead. It is
here that, to his astonishment, the beautiful silent-film star appears,
and seductively convinces him that, if he can only invoke her presence
properly, she could join him on his side of the veil. As the young man
returns to the earthly realm and begins working toward that goal, he is
completely unaware of what his actions will lead to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> This is the theme of my latest piece of short fiction entitled "Theda." It is now available exclusively on Kindle.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Just click on the link below to be taken to the Kindle Store where you can find more information. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Theda-D-Vick-ebook/dp/B084BPG8QP/ref=sr_1_4?keywords=A.D.+Vick&qid=1580485377&s=digital-text&sr=1-4&fbclid=IwAR3Du5rZOan7mast7R2pztscTPdDQpoFCg7Q5z0pTg4dMDhs_31L92JOsi4">To purchase or for more information go here. </a></b></span><br />
<br /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b href="https://www.amazon.com/Theda-D-Vick-ebook/dp/B084BPG8QP/ref=sr_1_4?keywords=A.D.+Vick&qid=1580485377&s=digital-text&sr=1-4&fbclid=IwAR3Du5rZOan7mast7R2pztscTPdDQpoFCg7Q5z0pTg4dMDhs_31L92JOsi4"><br /></b></span>
<br />
<br />
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-46675036291735523412019-06-23T13:25:00.003-05:002019-10-08T10:20:16.902-05:00A Day of Reckoning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZlebKNCHzty3yyd__HdIr0_CkWnwH8rXqkKMLTNnXBcMb3pnNPm8yYIZ3-lgrJS6ru5hNfSAc4sBT426gXEwQ8JOcxFG9GGM1SSkBwrVdDihrBHOm048Tl7fhfwwkQq-vxd5wJzV47Lk/s1600/Book+Cover+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1006" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ZlebKNCHzty3yyd__HdIr0_CkWnwH8rXqkKMLTNnXBcMb3pnNPm8yYIZ3-lgrJS6ru5hNfSAc4sBT426gXEwQ8JOcxFG9GGM1SSkBwrVdDihrBHOm048Tl7fhfwwkQq-vxd5wJzV47Lk/s320/Book+Cover+2.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_35d">
<span style="font-size: large;">A
young woman awakes suddenly during the night. She arises and looks
around the dark room. Something doesn't seem right, but she can't place
the source of her discomfort. She glances behind her; and, much to her
horror, discovers the source of her discomfort. Lying on the bed is her
own dead body. Two puncture wounds on her neck reveal the horrible
truth. She had fallen victim to a blood drinker, and now her earthly
life was over. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Vampire or not," she tells herself, "he's going to pay for what he's done to me." She sets out to do just that. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So begins my latest novelette entitled, "A Day of Reckoning." It is now
available exclusively on Kindle, and you can find it<b> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Day-Reckoning-D-Vick-ebook/dp/B07TFG7Y1K/ref=sr_1_4?keywords=A.D.+Vick&qid=1561129182&s=books&sr=1-4&fbclid=IwAR109THIVpLtIUbe8UaXgQuMYc1lfr2UTyG-uCz30oenvwm0WJL3xxjrZEo">here.</a></b></span></div>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-43129033007012037622018-06-04T10:09:00.002-05:002018-06-04T10:11:20.624-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: Highway 365<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRxVIUGCpy97iqYhsXndYH-i8hX5EQ7Bli8M5cAQFf1-Y4RJ55_1LE-AR54WKPJJTCeRXrEpNv7o_lyKjF3_KPfqkW97mbXY64DtUXB9AhPF4RyzcNSwTj0H14RN6KJ8IpzfRl3wnnHz4v/s1600/277DC8495D3D-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRxVIUGCpy97iqYhsXndYH-i8hX5EQ7Bli8M5cAQFf1-Y4RJ55_1LE-AR54WKPJJTCeRXrEpNv7o_lyKjF3_KPfqkW97mbXY64DtUXB9AhPF4RyzcNSwTj0H14RN6KJ8IpzfRl3wnnHz4v/s320/277DC8495D3D-18.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Hello
there, Dear Readers, and welcome back for the final installment of the
Creepy Samples Offerings. I hope you have enjoyed reading the story
excerpts presented here,and if you would like to read them to their
conclusion you can click on the link to my website, which is found under
"About" on the right hand column. Everything you need to know is
provided there. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I am working on
new material, which at some point in the not too distant future, will
coalesce into another publication. At that time, I hope to return here with more Creepy Samples Offerings. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Today's tale is called "Highway
365." This piece is found in my book entitled "The Darkness Beyond the
Misty Veil: More Tales of the Macabre." The story concerns a man with an
interest in the paranormal who travels to an area south of Little Rock,
Arkansas in order to drive Highway 365, a road long reputed to be
haunted by the ghost of a young woman; particularly, on stormy nights.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> We pick up the story after the protagonist turns onto the highway during a heavy thunderstorm: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
The rain began to slow by the time I reached the Woodson's outskirts.
Still, I maintained a slow speed, hoping against hope that I would see
something significant. My eyes danced back and forth as I searched for
an apparition or anything that signaled the presence of the
supernatural. Although the worst part of the storm had passed, rain
continued coming down at a steady pace. The flashes of lightning, though
retreating toward the south east, continued to illuminate the
landscape, offering me short but enhanced views of my surroundings.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
I approached what appeared to be a small bridge when the sudden glare
of headlights from behind caught my attention. I gazed into the
rear-view mirror to take quick measure of the situation. When my eyes
returned to the road I gasped in horror. The figure of a human being
stood almost directly ahead of me only a few yards away. I hit the
breaks as hard as I could while swerving into the oncoming lane.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
For a few seconds I sat there stunned—overcome by the sudden flash of
adrenaline pulsing through my veins. The figure hurried over to the
passenger side of my vehicle, I could see that it was a young woman.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
She was dressed in a long white gown that was drenched through and
through. The garment, which most certainly had been attractive and
alluring earlier in the evening was stained with blood and mud. Opening
the passenger-side door, I could see a deep, bloody gash across her
forehead. There was another just below her cheekbone. I suspected that
she had suffered other injuries as well. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “I'm....I'm so sorry,” I told her apologetically as she got in. “Where did you come from? I didn't see you.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
The vehicle from behind was approaching, so I quickly got out of the
way by crossing over to the southbound lane and pulling onto the
shoulder. I reached into the back seat and retrieved an extra jacket I'd
left there. I wrapped it around her shoulders in an attempt to warm
her. She was cold—very cold to the touch. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “You're hurt. You need
a doctor,” I told her as I gently used a wad of leftover napkins to
tend to her wounds. “Is there a hospital nearby? You need stitches.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
At first she stared straight ahead in silence without saying a word. I
needed answers if I was going to help her, but as I contemplated her
condition, I considered the possibility that she might have been in
shock. I decided to handle the situation with the utmost gentility.
Calming my demeanor, I posed another question to her. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Do you live nearby?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
She turned toward me imploringly and slowly lifted her left hand,
pointing straight ahead. “Redfield,” she said in little more than a
whisper. “Take me to Redfield.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> At that moment my heart melted
as I took in her beauty—her exquisitely chiseled face, her resplendent
breasts, only partially covered by her dress; this, in spite of her
disheveled condition. Within a minuscule flash of time-- a split second
perhaps, a vision came to me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She and I were at a dance—a prom
perhaps. I'd been considering my good fortune in accompanying her to the
event. We were a couple; and, as I took in the sight of her
golden-blonde hair cascading over the soft skin of her shoulders, I knew
I was in love. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She removed her gaze and I snapped back to
reality. The realization that my passenger needed medical attention took
precedence, and I turned back onto the highway and headed in the
direction of Redfield, </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> There you have it! Many thanks to you all for being here over these past 11 or so months, and remember, keep it spooky !</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Photo, A Place to Hide by Sandra H. appears courtesy of <b><a href="http://www.gothicpictures.org/">Gothic Pictures Gallery.</a></b></span></div>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-15828924596555696192018-05-15T11:42:00.002-05:002018-05-15T11:50:05.061-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: A Fall From Grace: The First Hunt<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneQPt4v_JUOZu9wwtiX-fz2MaKf0fDm8P4xSlbElUaBa0y3xCJWNHFrtxLZ9tte9U-KbjqzFs0x7O7ZjUkiAI98PUa6002rZt5U5dQDdKVF3lPpSeEhEtOc62VwvFv7ng2tthDWCS3Tk6/s1600/vampires4_20070401_1409758504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="255" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneQPt4v_JUOZu9wwtiX-fz2MaKf0fDm8P4xSlbElUaBa0y3xCJWNHFrtxLZ9tte9U-KbjqzFs0x7O7ZjUkiAI98PUa6002rZt5U5dQDdKVF3lPpSeEhEtOc62VwvFv7ng2tthDWCS3Tk6/s320/vampires4_20070401_1409758504.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Greetings to you all, Dear Readers. It's May 15 and that means it's
time for another Creepy Samples Offering. This one is a bit special as
it's the next to last sample offering for awhile. It's hard to believe,
but I've been doing these twice per month since around the beginning of
July of last year. So yes, we're getting near the end--for now!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In any event, in today's offering we return to the adventures of the
Vampire Lady Andrea and Jessie Tucker. "A Fall From Grace: The First
Hunt" is found in my second publication entitled, "The Darkness Beyond
the Misty Veil: More Tales of the Macabre. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We pick up the story
in the darkness of Louisiana's Kisatchie Bayou, where Lady Andrea has
been unnerving, pursuing, and then mesmerizing Eddie Canton, Jessie's
assailant, with seductive images.</span><br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“Ugh!” He shouted, confused by the sudden cut off from the
titillating experience. “Wh....what happened? Why don't ya do what
ya want to and get it over with?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Because I got what I wanted,” she responded. “You just damned
your god and everything you've ever stood for. I have now prepared
you to enter the place that lies beyond the gates of Hell.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Canton realized the truthfulness of what she spoke. He had indeed
done as she'd said.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“You tricked me with all that sexy stuff,” he informed her. “You
tricked me!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Lady Andrea laughed heartily before responding. “Do you really
believe that I'd want to provide you with pleasure after you smashed
my Jessie's head with a rock, killing him? No, there is another who
will have the pleasure of draining you of your life's essence, and I
will lead you to him.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She began walking in his direction; the self-confidant smile and
hungry expression never disappearing from her face. The frightened
man dropped his fishing tackle and moved quickly in the direction of
the bayou, screaming as he ran. “Help! Somebody help me!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Eddie Canton's gait outpaced his limited field of vision. More than
once he blindly stumbled over the underbrush, only to quickly right
himself and continue on toward the bayou.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Moving through the darkness, Eddie could hear voices calling to him
from the direction of the camp. “Over here,” he shouted with a
shortness of breath. “Over here!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The thick woods abruptly opened up before him, revealing the same
location where he had spent the last couple of hours fishing. As
Eddie rushed toward the water's edge, a dark figure, as if from out
of nowhere, took position directly in front of him, blocking his
path. The dim light of the lantern shone upon the figure's pale
features, and the panic-stricken man gasped in sheer horror.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Je....Jessie? Is that you?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The strange figure inched closer to him as he spoke. It's Jess of the
House of the Crescent Moon now, Eddie. Are you surprised to see me?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Canton attempted moving backward, but his escape was blocked by the
woman.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“How can this be?” Eddie asked. “You're ….”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Dead?” Jess responded. “Indeed I am; and yet, I'm standing
before you. Pray to your god,” Jess continued, “for you too are
about to join the ranks of the deceased.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There you have it! We'll see you around the beginning of next month for the final offering. Until then, keep it spooky!</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Photo source: <b><a href="http://gothicpictures.org/">Gothic Pictures Gallery.</a></b></span></div>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-87757909025877487932018-05-02T10:25:00.001-05:002018-05-02T10:29:08.684-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: The Reaper's Hand<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6aRKGz8J1zbrafUGCPXX0xepC9Q6FIt1Qc-ShImVJEfYcIldSPdqCTE0GgOTwVD4Uanvgw_GOwDzwQp9qBQ7odTWNobCjgZmoixByTBSy7_fMKnHOOKEHR6y3xXIyeNASlN99DmIjaydH/s1600/gothicphotos627_20070402_1605935286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="417" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6aRKGz8J1zbrafUGCPXX0xepC9Q6FIt1Qc-ShImVJEfYcIldSPdqCTE0GgOTwVD4Uanvgw_GOwDzwQp9qBQ7odTWNobCjgZmoixByTBSy7_fMKnHOOKEHR6y3xXIyeNASlN99DmIjaydH/s320/gothicphotos627_20070402_1605935286.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Hello, Dear Readers, and welcome back once again to another Creepy Samples Offering. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
It's a cloudy, gloomy day here in in the Ozark Mountains with the
threat of stormy weather on the horizon. What better time could there be
to feel a little....well, spooky?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Today, I'd like to talk about
the Case of Travis Wilson. Mr. Wilson is an aging man who, obsessed with
staying young, has taken it upon himself to live a healthier lifestyle.
Part of his obsession is due to the fact that, in his younger days, he
had never experienced any type of meaningful, romantic relationship.
Part of his staying young strategy revolved around running, an activity
he took part in quite often. On one particular evening however, his run
through a local park takes on a new meaning. So, let's take a few
paragraphs from the story entitled "The Reaper's Hand," and see just
what has made Travis' run so urgent. The story incidentally, is found in
my book, "The Darkness Beyond the Misty Veil: More Tales of the
Macabre. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> This evening was different however. Travis ran along
the darkening trail with the terrifying realization that his deepest
fear followed in close pursuit. He had first seen the hooded and
black-robed angel standing in the early-morning shadows of his bedroom
that morning. He spotted it a second time in the afternoon and once more
this evening, while relaxing in his easy chair reading the newspaper.
He knew what it all meant; the final reckoning was at hand. The third
sighting was too much for him and the thought of his impending death
filled him with a sense of terror unlike anything he’d ever experienced.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The dark angel of death had come calling, but Travis wasn’t ready to leave his earthly life behind. <br /> In a panic, the old man screamed at the unwanted visitor.“No, no, you can’t take me. I want to live!”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
Travis scuttled toward the nearby forest trail without even bothering
to lock the doors. He would continue to cheat death the only way he
knew; by running.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The frightened old man kept a steady pace as he
careened through autumn’s deepening twilight. He occasionally cast a
quick glance behind, only to see death’s angel walking in his direction
under the half-naked trees. The Reaper neither gained on him nor fell
behind, but continued to keep pace. Travis knew he couldn’t run
indefinitely. He would tire soon and he desperately needed some other
way by which he could escape the relentless being pursuing him. The
opportunity came when he confronted a young couple jogging in his
direction. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Please, please!” He implored them. “I’m being
pursued. Can you take me to your vehicle? I’ve got to get away from
here. Someone’s after me.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “I don’t see anyone,” the younger man replied after a quick look around.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Travis pointed directly at the frightening figure, which continued moving in his direction.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “He’s right there, heading this way. How can you not see him?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “You’re crazy, old man. There’s nobody there.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Travis grabbed the woman’s shoulders, shaking her in desperation.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “I know you can see him,” he insisted. “Please get me away from here!”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The woman’s companion moved swiftly, pushing Travis away from his companion, forcing him backward.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Keep your hands off her you crazy geezer!”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Well, that's it for this time around. Until next time then, keep it spooky. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Photo courtesy of <b><a href="http://www.gothicpictures.org/">Gothic Pictures Gallery.</a></b></span>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-66961386163187785542018-04-14T12:37:00.000-05:002018-04-14T12:46:15.403-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: Horror in the Tunnel<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1yG8CS3qui9vL8HXKCpDEwTDuw1gw_4k1goN5N8124YDYkR3fCERzKwSz3J7dXmmmHSIg6QEK7wwryRtQ40r_u8kwUAOeWCLe011OTfHyPWF9fggFeUqn8uQypDgZ0OuCo4TSCyp1bNmb/s1600/15737f26-7fd2-4606-b814-1ff8ffe7db31_l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1yG8CS3qui9vL8HXKCpDEwTDuw1gw_4k1goN5N8124YDYkR3fCERzKwSz3J7dXmmmHSIg6QEK7wwryRtQ40r_u8kwUAOeWCLe011OTfHyPWF9fggFeUqn8uQypDgZ0OuCo4TSCyp1bNmb/s320/15737f26-7fd2-4606-b814-1ff8ffe7db31_l.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hello
there, Dear readers! We've reached the middle of April and that means
that it's time once again, for another Creepy Samples Offering. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">Today's
excerpt, from the story entitled, "Horror in the Tunnel," takes place
in and under an abandoned railway tunnel on the East Side of Providence,
Rhode Island; the same neighborhood in which horror writer H.P.
Lovecraft both lived and located some of his stories in. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">In
this particular tale, the protagonist is drawn back to the tunnel years
after the city had sealed it off. His desire is to investigate a
possible connection between the pagan rituals that had precipitated the
tunnel's closing, and possible supernatural or otherworldly influences
that may exist there. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">As
we pick up the story, the investigator is in a subterranean chamber
below the tunnel after hearing the sounds of a woman's screams as well
as that of a slow, persistent drumming.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">After
about ten minutes traversing this odd walkway, the incessant rhythm of
the drum and the strange voices of the participants reach a volume so
intense that I pause and turn off my light. In its absence I can see a
flickering orange glow reflecting on the walls ahead of me. For a few
moments I allow my eyes to grow accustomed to the dim light before
proceeding. As I inch forward, my heart is pounding so wildly that I
wonder if it can be heard over the ruckus that is taking place so close
to me. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">A
few more steps brings me to the point where the end of the passageway
comes into view. It opens into a moderately sized cavernous chamber. At
its center is a stone slab roughly the size of a queen-sized bed. Behind
it a beautiful but stately woman sits upon an elevated throne. She's
wearing an elegant black dress as she watches the activity taking place
around her. Burning torches encircle the center of the cavern, leaving
an open space directly before the stone slab. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">There
are at least a couple of dozen participants drumming, dancing or
otherwise moving around the cavern. All appear to be wearing masks and
long, ragged robes. Still, the masks are the most realistic that I've
ever seen—ghastly even! </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">Wait
a minute! Their facial expressions change as they communicate. They're
not masks at all. Their faces are inhuman--shriveled, distorted and
skeletal with bulging, jaundiced eyes. The creatures' hands are almost
claw-like, with long fingers and rotting nails on the ends. Their thick
skin appears stained with blood.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">My
mind reels as I stare at the spectacle before me. My God! I have
stumbled upon the secret of the tunnel and it's more horrifying than I
could ever have imagined. I should leave while I can but...</span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">My
thoughts are interrupted by s spine-curdling scream. It's a woman's
voice; possibly the source of the screams I heard earlier. I stand
almost spellbound as I watch two of the ghoulish creatures leading a
hysterical, naked woman to the central slab. Without hesitation, they
force the struggling woman onto the central stone face up and set about
chaining her limbs tightly to the stone's extremities. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">I
stare in amazement, wondering if I have stumbled upon some secret BDSM
ritual. Yet, how could that be, as these repulsive creatures before me
appear as real as anything I've ever seen. And the victim is clearly
frightened, struggling. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">Suddenly,
the stately woman arises from her throne and for a moment, the drumming
stops and an eerie silence falls over the cavern—a silence that is only
broken by the captive's pleadings. “Please let me go. Please!”</span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">As
the woman in black takes her first steps toward the terrified female,
the beating of the drums begins anew. This time, the rhythm is
agonizingly slow as hands and sticks strike the instruments in unison
once every three seconds or so. The sound echos throughout the chamber
like some sort of death march as the obvious leader of the assembly
walks toward the terrified person lying before her. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
drumming ceases when she reaches the panic-stricken prisoner. The woman
looks down at the young lady affectionately as she gently brushes back
her hair and strokes her face. The girl is whimpering amid hysterical
cries. “Please, please!” </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">I
realize that something sinister is happening here as I contemplate the
possibilities. Clearly, this is no consensual ritual; at least, not as
far as the woman on the rock is concerned. Yet, I feel a certain
excitement when the lady in black bends over and whispers something in
the girl's ear. I watch in amazement as she begins moving her lips
slowly and sensually along the captive's neck. Before long, she ceases
her movement and lets her lips linger, kissing her victim passionately.
The affectionate attentions of the woman in black seem to calm the young
woman down as she begins moaning ecstatically, offering her neck to her
captor's passionate caresses. I find the scene before me both unnerving
and yet, exciting, as my mind fills with conflicting feelings of guilt
and arousal. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
sinister woman's ministrations continue for several minutes until
finally she backs away from the now still form lying below her. A
crimson liquid covers part of her face and runs in streams from her
mouth until she wipes it away with a hand, which she in turn, licks
hungrily. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh my God! She bit her. She tore open the flesh of that poor girl and drank her blood! What the hell's going on here?</span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">Without
warning, the slow drumbeat commences once again as the first of the
ghoulish creatures, which had led the young victim to the stone, steps
before her limp body. The second hands him a colorful but folded and
elongated piece of cloth. He at first, holds it above his head for all
to see. Then, he carefully places the fabric on the stone next to the
young woman's body, where he begins unfolding it. Within moments the
content of the package is revealed as he lifts a fearsome looking dagger
above his head. The assembly roars in approval, but the sounds
emanating forth form a chorus of ghastly, ungodly moans--sounds capable
of making the bravest man's blood run cold. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
chamber becomes quiet once again as the creature lowers the knife
toward the young woman's body. Although my body is almost stiff with
fear, I cannot stand by watching this spectacle any longer and I react
without thinking of the consequences. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">“No, no! Get away from her you bastards!” </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">My
hand reaches into my coat pocket and within a matter of nanoseconds, my
weapon is out and I aim it at the creature with the dagger. Two shots
ring out in rapid succession. The ghoulish thing drops the dagger and
reaches for what must have been a wound in its left arm while the rest
of the assembly seems caught off guard. All heads turn in my direction
as I struggle to take control of the situation by shouting at the
gruesome beings once again. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Get away from her!”</span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">There
you have it! I hope you enjoyed that. If so, please check back here
again around the beginning of May, and we'll do it all again. Today's
story comes from the book entitled, "The Darkness Beyond the Misty Veil:
More Tales of the Macabre." So until next time, keep it spooky! </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;">Photo source: Waymarking dot com. Photographer unknown. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-">
<div class="m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mf m_1413264914924064832gmail-_1mj">
<br /></div>
</div>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-79791569854160584742018-04-01T13:52:00.004-05:002018-04-02T10:10:21.037-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: A Fall From Grace: Metamorphoses <div class="_5pbx userContent _22jv _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="js_i">
<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome
back, dear readers, to the April 1 installment of my Creepy Samples
Offering. Since today is Easter Sunday, this is the one day of the year
that above all others, reminds us that spring has arrived. Here in the
Arkansas Ozarks however, the day dawned cool and gloomy. A light drizzle
fills the air as a thick cloud cover blocks out the sunshine. So, while
some might be holding Easter egg hunts and thinking of cute little
bunnies, my thoughts have turned to vampires. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Last month, in an
offering from the story, "A Fall From Grace," I introduced you to Jessie
Tucker, a divinity student whose obsession with a darkly dressed woman
got him into a bit of trouble. As it turns out, the object of his
desires was a vampire woman named Lady Andrea. We left off last month
with her drinking his blood after she finds him snooping around an
abandoned farmhouse. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> In today's offering, which comes from "A
Fall From Grace: Metamorphoses," we learn that Jessie has been kidnapped
by members of his former school's youth league, at the behest of the
Reverend Fred Roy, the college's leading figure. His captors have taken
him to a nearby river in which Roy intends to wash Jessie of his sinful
nature and bring him back into the spiritual fold, so to speak. Let's
pick up the story at the river then, after Jessie's failed attempt at an
escape from the over-zealous group: </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Eddie Canton pulled
Jessie’s damaged body to the river’s edge, leaving a trail of blood
along the grass and soil. Meanwhile, his companions scurried about in
the dark, searching for the appropriate stones and bindings necessary to
hold their victim’s body to the river bottom. One by one they brought
their findings to Eddie as he stood watch over the body. Once all the
necessary materials had been gathered, he turned to them.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
“Alright, let’s get this done. Everybody grab a limb and tie the rock
securely. The sooner we get ‘im on the river bottom the sooner we can
get out of here.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The four worked feverishly until the sound of a howling pack of wolves interrupted them.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “What’s that?” Cotton asked nervously. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
The wolves howled once again from somewhere in the darkness, stirring
within them a deep sense of fearfulness. The snapping of a fallen branch
next caught their attention. One of the others shined a flashlight in
the direction of the sound only to rest its beam upon a beautiful,
cloaked woman walking in their direction.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Oh Jeez,” Cotton exclaimed in a voice he believed only audible to his nearby companions.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Y’all just keep your mouths shut and let me do the talkin’,” Canton countered. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
The woman approached; and bending on one knee, began examining the body
lying before her. She put her head to his chest, detecting a faint
heartbeat. When she began unraveling the bindings they’d placed around
his limbs, Eddie grabbed her by the arm, attempting to pull her away
from his victim.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Get away from ‘im,” he shouted.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She
arose with what seemed like lightning speed and effortlessly threw her
assailant into the trunk of a tree about twenty feet away, rendering him
unconscious.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Oh Lord!” One of the others cried out. “Did you see that? God have mercy!”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
Cotton took hold of a nearby tree limb, attempting to attack her from
behind. Swirling around before he was within striking distance, the
powerful woman first wrestled the weapon out of his hands and then
placed a firm grip on his shoulder before bending and twisting his right
arm. He screamed in pain.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Why have you done this?” She asked without releasing her grip. “Tell me or I’ll tear this arm right off his body.” <br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Cotton screamed uncontrollably as she continued to increase the pressure.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
Eddie Canton, having regained consciousness, rose to his feet and
addressed her while one of the others kept the flashlight’s beam focused
on her eyes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “You might be strong,” he told her, “but you can’t
take all four of us. Come on,” he instructed his other companions,
“let’s rush her.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> At that moment the strange woman hissed
menacingly, revealing razor-sharp fangs that extended in length far
beyond her other teeth. Her would-be attackers froze in abject fear. Her
eyes beamed and held them fast as she spoke with determination.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
“One more step in my direction and I’ll sever his head from the rest of
his body. Then I’ll turn on you and will drain every ounce of blood from
each of your pathetic bodies.” Smiling she continued. “I love the scent
of your fear. Draining you would be quite a pleasant experience. Don’t
try to escape either, because I will find you.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> One from the
group began reciting the Lord’s Prayer as she turned her attention back
to David Cotton, again increasing pressure upon his already damaged arm.
His screams echoed across the dark landscape.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Who put you up to this? Tell me now,” she demanded.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “It was Reverend Roy,” Cotton answered obediently. “He didn’t mean to hurt him. He only wanted to bring him back to the Lord.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “But you did hurt him,” she continued. “Tell me, where can I find this Reverend Roy right now?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> For just a moment Cotton hesitated and she again increased the pressure on his arm. He could hear the snapping of bones. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “In his office. He’s in his office at the Baptist University on the south side of town,” he cried out hysterically.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She released him, throwing him into the river shallows.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She turned to the others.“The car keys, give them to me,” she demanded. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Canton approached nervously, tossing her the keys.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Now get out of here—all of you, before I change my mind and decide to drain you dry anyway.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
She gestured toward Eddie Cotton, who still remained in the icy
shallows delirious with pain, before continuing. “And take that piece of
shit with you.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> While the others collected their fallen comrade
and began departing the scene, Lady Andrea returned to Jessie, once
again listening for the traces of a heartbeat, hoping almost against all
hope that he might still be alive. His pulse was still there but had
grown even fainter. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> That's where we'll leave off for today. If
you want to know what happens next, the answer can be found in my book,
"Tales of Dark Romance and Horror."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Thanks for reading, and I hope to meet up with you all once again around mid-April. Until then, keep it creepy!</span></div>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-85856656977479517502018-03-14T20:42:00.000-05:002018-03-14T20:44:43.332-05:00Creepy Samples Offering: A Fall From Grace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0MZBkdKl3OLAqaf9lc_YTnxIvTbJWyCQcRORr5VfYY_k6dvY_khftoLDd1ayUXMP16q0GuH6KJsTrN2k4Ep8nTMXWktIo5Dlmuy5rbPiPZaAzA3RcYZos39mmpUDIlRPDkCGB1-myQ1_f/s1600/Lady+Andrea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="369" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0MZBkdKl3OLAqaf9lc_YTnxIvTbJWyCQcRORr5VfYY_k6dvY_khftoLDd1ayUXMP16q0GuH6KJsTrN2k4Ep8nTMXWktIo5Dlmuy5rbPiPZaAzA3RcYZos39mmpUDIlRPDkCGB1-myQ1_f/s320/Lady+Andrea.jpg" width="235" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Well, dear readers, we've reached the middle of March. The weather is
beginning to warm, and this is all making me realize that it's time
once again for the next Creepy Samples Offering. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Today's excerpt
comes from a story entitled "A Fall from Grace," which is found in my
book called "Tales of Dark Romance and Horror." This particular story is
the first in a series of three, with possibly more to follow, which
tell the tale of a divinity student named Jessie Tucker, who just
happens to find himself obsessed over a darkly dressed woman who passes
by his window every night. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Unable to overcome his lust for her,
Jessie surrenders to his sinful nature and begins to search for clues as
to her residence, hangouts, or places she might frequent. One night, he
explores an abandoned country homestead that lies beyond the perimeter
of his city. We pick up the story as he explores the inside of the old
residence: </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">*** </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Suddenly, the front door slammed shut behind him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
Startled, Jessie dropped the book as he spun around abruptly to face
his interrogator. His mind reeled as he gazed at the person standing
before him. OH NO! GOD NO! A potent mix of fear and embarrassment
overtook him once he came to the realization that IT’S HER!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She
stared at him intently with cat-green eyes; her demeanor radiating both
power and self-confidence. He saw the predator in her and succinctly
felt his own weakness and vulnerability.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /> He was the prey; yet, he
could feel an excitement rising up from within—dark desires fueled by
the realization that the woman over which he’d had so many fantasies—the
creature that had sparked the formation of unspeakable but growing
needs within him, now stood only a few feet away. He felt as though he
were suddenly living in a dream from which there may be no escape.<br /> Part of him wanted the dream, but his other side wanted to flee.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “I asked you a question, Pervert!”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
Hearing her accusatory tone was too much for him. Panicking, he lunged
for the door. The woman moved swiftly; and before he had completed two
full steps she was upon him, pushing<br /> him roughly into the wall.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
Do you really think I don’t know what you’ve been up to all these
weeks, Pervert? Do you think that I don’t know about you hiding behind
your window—staring at me—having nasty thoughts about the things you’d
like me to do with you?” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Her voice was soft; even sexy. It
enchanted him. He felt her cool breath upon him. She drew closer to him,
her hair gently brushing up against his face.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Jessie shook his head and tried to speak but the hand over his mouth remained firmly in place.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She smiled coyly and continued. “Well, your dreams are about to come true; only in a way that you would never have imagined.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She moved back slightly; and removing her hand from his<br /> mouth, reached for his shirt, tearing it open, exposing his neck. He gasped at her boldness.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
An expression of wanton lust overtook her. She stroked his face
sensually before beginning to slowly pace in front of him, only inches
away. “I can sense the uncertainty in you,” she continued. “You fear me; yet, I sense your desire to surrender. I can smell it in your blood-- and I love it!”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Unable to speak, his own level of desire growing by the second, Jessie could only moan in response.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
She abruptly stopped in front of him and smiled seductively. Then,
bringing her face to his chest,began kissing and biting him
passionately, working her way upward, ever upward, sending the man into
his own private Heaven. When she reached the base of his neck she could
no longer contain herself. Within seconds, she opened her mouth wide;
biting him, penetrating his skin with two sharp fangs.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The
predator moaned ecstatically as she greedily drank his life essence. In
spite of her many kills over the years, no human’s blood had ever
offered sweetness such as this. She could taste his innocence as well as
the darkness he could never face. She reveled in the flavor of his fear
as it meshed with an abject surrender to his fate. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">*** </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> There you
have it. I hope you all enjoyed this week's offering. An excerpt from
the first sequel, "A Fall From Grace: Metamorphoses," will follow in the
April 1 sample. Until that date then, keep it spooky!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Photo and artwork: <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/MargarethMarina/">Marina Bocharova</a></b></span><br />
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-41336175836514474562018-02-28T09:45:00.000-06:002018-02-28T09:47:49.594-06:00Creepy Samples Offering: Rosalie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzw7xrmjG6QRJORGQkUeHji36RtxrvSsG-CJYqQ7yRNW6DCAeeEAuC_mrVRSkCKa6D-cfRr95pIH1-lxT8xtnm_NE3MgUn1CvjaSHAeaEFgRBOQufUzEbFCfCF-WAGV1ZRlc7ERUXgPKeP/s1600/gothicphotos88_20070402_1555386232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="341" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzw7xrmjG6QRJORGQkUeHji36RtxrvSsG-CJYqQ7yRNW6DCAeeEAuC_mrVRSkCKa6D-cfRr95pIH1-lxT8xtnm_NE3MgUn1CvjaSHAeaEFgRBOQufUzEbFCfCF-WAGV1ZRlc7ERUXgPKeP/s320/gothicphotos88_20070402_1555386232.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Hello, Dear Readers, and welcome to the March 1 Creepy Samples Offering! I hope you got to check in on last month's Vampire's Day Soiree. If you didn't, you still have the opportunity. Just scroll down to the previous post and you should still be able to see what the fun was all about. Time continues to roll along however, and so must I. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Today's story, <i>Rosalie, </i>is taken from my first book entitled <i>Tales of Dark Romance and Horror. Rosalie </i>is a novella that takes us to an America that has changed. Extremist politicians have gained control of the federal government and imposed a religious theocracy upon the citizenry. Robert, an artist and craftsman, decides to temporarily leave his home in town to hide out with survivalist friends who live close to the Fox Grove community on a hill called Haunted Mountain. The friend's daughter, Rosalie, is a young, seductive, but powerful witch who is in love with Robert. He in turn, is forced to resist her charms.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We pick up the story where Rosalie ventures into the forest to summon her deceased Great Grandma Boudreaux. Little does she know that she is being watched by two parishioners belonging to the church led by the Reverend Ronnie, Crawford; a zealot intent upon ridding the area of those he considers sinful. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Within
an hour the twilight had descended upon the Ozark </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">landscape; and as
the heated buzz of the cicadas yielded to the ever-</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">growing nighttime
chorus of the katydids, Rosalie, with a sturdy </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">tote bag thrown over
her shoulder, stepped back onto the pathway </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">which led to the spot she
had earlier prepared. Walking through the </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">deepening darkness, she
could see the rising lunar orb as it flashed </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">momentarily through the
spaces between the trees.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Upon
reaching her destination, the young woman quickly set about </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">the task
of lighting a fire. When the new campfire grew to ahealthy</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">blaze,
she opened her bag and took out its contents; her Book of </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Shadows, a
wand wrapped in black cloth, and a half gallon jar of </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">water with
which to later extinguish the fire’s remnants. After </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">carefully
removing the wand from its protective covering, Rosalie </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">gazed at the
magical tool she had only recently fashioned. It was </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">about ten inches
long and constructed from a fallen branch </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">belonging to the very oak
that stood in the center of the clearing. A </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">double-terminated quartz
crystal was lashed in place on one end by </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">a series of red threads.
Attached to the handle was a wooden cat’s </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">head with each eye made
of garnet. Both the cat’s head and the </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">wand itself had been stained
an ebony hue.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">With
wand in hand, Rosalie moved next to the tree, facing toward </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">the
rising moon in the east. For a few moments she stood with eyes </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">closed—motionless—clearing her mind of any thought—grounding</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">herself to the Earth below her feet and to the forest. Then, gazing </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">skyward she spoke: </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Oh dark Goddess of the forest,
mistress of the night,</span></span><br />
</div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I create and bless this circle in
your name.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I invite you to this sacred space,</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">And ask that you open the portal
between the worlds,</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">And allow the passage of my
grandma—my “Mémére to this </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">world.”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Moving toward the outer
reaches of the oak’s lower branches, she pointed the wand, now in
her right hand, toward the ground just beyond her reach as she began
walking around the tree in a clockwise motion.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Be thou cast, circle,</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">As I walk along your edge.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Keep me away from harm,</span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">And protect me as I now walk
between the worlds.”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She walked around the tree
three times; with each revolution repeating her words. After
returning to the circle’s easternmost point for the final time she
stopped; and facing the rising moon said, “The circle is cast. So
mote it be.” Then, she quietly took a place on the log by the fire
pit and gazed out into the darkness.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Are you seein’ the
same thing that I’m seein’ Danny? The preacher’s right about
witches…”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Shh!” The other man
quickly responded. Then, in a whisper, he continued empathically.
“Keep your voice down! She’ll hear us!” </span>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The two men, having
spotted Rosalie making her preparations earlier in the evening, had
decided to move in closer in order keep watch on the small opening in
the forest and any activities that might occur there. Now, hiding
behind some bushes only 100 feet or so from the clearing, they could
easily see everything the young woman was doing. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Mémére,” Rosalie
called out. “Can you hear me Mémére? Please come! I need your
advice. Please come and speak with me.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">After making her appeal,
the young supplicant returned to the fire and sat down upon the log.
For a few moments she sat in silence—waiting—anticipating--hoping
that the Goddess to whom she had dedicated her circle would grant her
request by opening the portal to the world beyond. For a few moments
there was only the sound of the katydids and the occasional hooting
of a nearby owl. Finally, the silence was broken by the sound of a
woman’s voice. “I am here child. What is it that bears such a
burden upon your soul tonight?”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As Rosalie gazed toward
the voice, she saw the dark figure of her long deceased ancestor
emerge from the shadows. The attractive fortyish-looking woman was
dressed in a dark robe; her salt and pepper hair mostly covered by a
hood. Although her Great Grandma Boudreaux had been in her eighties
when she finally passed from this world, her younger appearance no
longer seemed strange to her granddaughter. “Why should I take on
the form of an old woman,” she once asked, when I can appear to you
as I once looked; mature but still sensually vibrant?”</span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Not far away, the two
onlookers stared at one another incredulously. “Where did that
woman come from?” Danny whispered to his friend. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Sure beats the heck out
of me!” Bobby responded; a hint of unease in his whisper. “I
don’t b’lieve I’ve ever seen her before. It’s like she came
from out of nowhere. She ain’t dressed normal either. Look at her!”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Danny McLain’s voice
dropped down to an unintelligible whisper as he folded his hands
together. “Lord Jesus, watch over your servants tonight. Protect us
from whatever evil has befallen us here.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The older woman did not
approach the fire but instead, remained close to the shadows, the
flicker of the fire reflecting in her eyes.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I want to cast a love
spell Mémére, one that is so powerful that it will bind my love to
me forever.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Is that what ails you,
child?” Her grandmother asked. “You’ve fallen in love for the
first time?”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I’ve never felt
anything like this before Mémére, I don’t want to live without
him, not for a minute!”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Oh yes, how I remember
young love! It’s a powerful thing. Rosalie, and sooner or later it
vexes just about every young lady such as yourself. But you must be
careful, for love is often blind.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I’d like to learn how
to cast the best love spell that I possibly can Mémére, I really
want to be with this man, and then keep him.” </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The woman laughed
sympathetically; there was kindness in her voice when she spoke.
“Spells such as those you seek are designed to attract love; not to
force anyone against his will.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“But he does love me; I
know it! I can feel it!”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Then no spell is needed
child. You have already attracted love.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“But he’s afraid to
give himself to me. He won’t let go.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“The questions you ask
are the same as those asked by every young woman in your situation,
but you have an advantage.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“An advantage?”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Of course, Dear! You’re
a very attractive young lady Rosalie, and the power flows within you
vigorously; even if you are somewhat inexperienced. You already hold
the answers to your questions. They lie within you. Listen to your
intuition. Listen to your inner-most feelings. They will tell you
what to do. Every woman must work at keeping a man just as he must
work at keeping her. Every relationship takes work. But your powers
are strong Granddaughter, learn how to use them.” </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The robed figure threw
Rosalie a kiss and then walked slowly into the tree’s impenetrable
shadow. The teen cried out, “I love you Mémére!” Then, her
Grandma was gone. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Rosalie continued sitting
by the fire for several more minutes as she pondered her grandma’s
words—reflecting upon the events that had just taken place.
Finally, she arose and once again took position in the middle of the
circle—facing east, yet skyward—the forest silhouetted in the
pale light of the moon.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">“Dark Goddess, mistress of the
night,</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I thank you for joining me in my
circle,</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">and for your blessing on this
night.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">As we depart upon my opening of
this circle,</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">may we go forth in peace.”</span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Once again moving to the
eastern edge of the circle, she extended her wand downward, and began
retracing her earlier steps; this time, moving counter-clockwise
around the tree. Finally, she stopped; again facing eastward, and
concluded her ceremony. “The circle is open but unbroken. Blessed
be.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">By the time Rosalie had
concluded her business, the fire’s flickering light had faded; its
flames replaced with the orange glow of its dying embers. After
repacking her supplies into the tote bag and dousing the coals with
water, she made her way home through the shadowy forest with
flashlight in hand. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The two intruders remained
in position for several minutes, making sure that the girl had gone
home and would remain unaware of their presence. Then, emerging from
their hiding place, they walked silently toward the clearing. The
sudden hooting of an owl halted their progression just short of the
now open circle’s perimeter.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Jeez! The damn thing
nearly scared the heck outa me!”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Relax, Bobby! It’s
just an owl.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“It ain’t no ordinary
owl. It’s tellin’ us to stay away. I know it.” </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“You’re lettin’ your
imagination run away with ya,” Danny retorted dismissively. Still,
as he took another step the owl hooted again loudly.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“What did I tell ya?
There’s evil all around us here. Let’s get back to the truck
before somethin’ happens to us.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Danny acquiesced. “I
s’pose the best thing we can do now is go and talk to the preacher
‘bout all this.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Sounds like a good idea
to me. He’ll know what to do.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Well, that's it for this time around. My apologies for any problems with the formatting. Computers can be so hard to please sometimes! </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Until next time then, remember to keep it spooky!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Photo source: <b><a href="http://gothicpictures.org/">Gothic Pictures Gallery</a></b></span></div>
Artist unknown
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-72269759619415712392018-02-13T10:19:00.001-06:002018-02-13T10:23:17.195-06:00Creepy Samples Offering: The Arrival of Narkissa Laveau<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaq1DYVpVi_hASY0A2f6FGxhHCiWl9RwF5E1PffAgZpCBwd2i8b_R9v-PL-badNu8Lfpwvdv7GiEZC7YjTqJco2C7okk8aDKxeNYLzkbpHhQgQv93PyKhPvW7lQg7ldcERu7mmIHUhHqHN/s1600/vampires7_20070401_1700644346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaq1DYVpVi_hASY0A2f6FGxhHCiWl9RwF5E1PffAgZpCBwd2i8b_R9v-PL-badNu8Lfpwvdv7GiEZC7YjTqJco2C7okk8aDKxeNYLzkbpHhQgQv93PyKhPvW7lQg7ldcERu7mmIHUhHqHN/s320/vampires7_20070401_1700644346.jpg" width="189" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">After a bit of an absence at the beginning of this month due to computer problems, I'm back with the next Creepy Samples Offering for mid-February. Today's entry, <i>The Arrival of Narkissa Laveau, </i>comes from the pages of my second publication, <i>The Darkness Beyond the Misty Veil: More Tales of the Macabre. </i>Before we actually delve into the actual story, a bit of background is in order.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">A soon-to-graduate university student
named William gets on Facebook one day to discover a new friend request.
As he investigates its source, he discovers that it originated from a
dark but beautiful woman, who plays the part of a vampire for internet
productions. He accepts her request, and over time, can't get her out of
his mind. When summer arrives, he discovers upon her invitation for a
visit, that she lives only a few hours away in a small Ozark town called
Fox Grove. He is to meet her in the local cemetery after dark. Although
he believes that she is carrying her acting role a bit too far, he
agrees to the meeting. We pick up the story as he awaits Narkissa's
arrival at the cemetery. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The late afternoon heat had tempered somewhat by the time William
walked into the cemetery. Evening had arrived. With its presence came
the loud buzzing of cicadas emanating from the treetops and the
cawing of crows, warning their brethren of his arrival. He gazed
around the graveyard, hoping that Narkissa might have arrived ahead
of him, but there was no sign of her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>She did tell me to meet her after dark, </i>he reasoned. <i>It's
early yet. So, I might as well find a way to amuse myself until she
arrives. </i>He decided to explore the cemetery, and to see what he
could learn about the earlier residents of Fox Grove.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">He took note of a boarded up old church with its steeple and bell
tower situated on one side of the cemetery. As he walked in the midst
of the deceased, a feeling of sadness overtook him. The epitaphs
carved into the stone markers told the tales of those who had come
before. These had once lived as he lives. Yet, they are long
departed; their memory nearly extinguished. Some had left this world
at tender young ages. Others had died of accidents and disease. Yet,
others had lived to ripe old ages. He didn't particularly care for
graveyards. The burial ground upon which he stood reminded him of his
own mortality; that one day he too would join their ranks and become
nothing more than a fading memory.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The buzzing of the cicadas eventually gave way to an almost eerie
stillness as day morphed into twilight. Fireflies arose from the
graveyard's grassy bottom, beginning a nightly spectacle that would
soon cast a dim, flickering illumination upon the tombstones. Bats
emerged from the church steeple, beginning their erratic flight far
above the resting places of the dead.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Alone and unaccustomed to the quiet darkness falling over the
landscape, a sense of unease—even dread, began to swell up from
somewhere deep within his soul. He walked nervously toward Narkissa's
altar tomb and sat down upon it, waiting in silence as the darkness
deepened.
</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Without warning, the sound of rustling vegetation and the snapping of
fallen branches coming from the nearby woods broke the silence.
Something of considerable size was moving around just beyond his
limited field of vision. He shuddered as he contemplated the
possibilities. William, although unaccustomed to the country,
understood that black bear and even worse, wild hogs inhabited the
Ozark region. He sat in silence, making not the slightest move out of
fear that it would attract whatever predator might be lurking in the
shadows nearby.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The last vestiges of twilight had given way to night by the time the
disturbing sounds moved off into the distance. He breathed a silent
sigh of relief as he gazed up at a quarter moon rising above the tree
line to the east, shedding a dim, eerie light upon the grave markers
and monuments, which in turn cast long but barely distinguishable
shadows across the grassy floor.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I can't take any more of this, </i>he decided. <i>This is too
creepy, and I'm not going to sit here for another minute waiting for
some ungodly creature to attack me. I've been played for a fool and
I'm getting out of here right now. </i></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He stood up, turned toward the highway, and began walking toward his
vehicle. He had only taken a few steps when something took hold of
his shoulder. Sheer terror gripped at him as he spun around in an
attempt to break it's grasp. “Augh!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Why William, what's wrong?”
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">His heart beat so furiously he thought it might jump out of his
chest. Although completely unnerved and somewhat embarrassed, he now
stood face to face with the beautiful Narkissa Laveau.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">***<i> </i></span>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“I....Uh....” He was speechless, embarrassed, and unable to do
anything more than stand before her sheepishly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She chuckled at his discomfort before addressing him. “You are
William, aren't you?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Uh yeah, I am.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Did I startle you?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Seeing a way out of an embarrassing situation, he quickly collected
his thoughts. “Yeah, I guess you did. I didn't see you coming and
all of a sudden, there you were.”
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“We vampires are hunters and creatures of the night,” she
responded. “How could we stalk our prey if we announced our
presence beforehand?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She stared at him intently in the dim moonlight, her eyes reflecting
the luminescence with a greenish hue. Narkissa's beauty ensnared him;
yet, her facial expression betrayed any attempt on her part to hide
her hunger—a hunger he could not define. Was it sexual? Or was it
something else?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“So, is that what I am,” he asked flirtatiously, “your prey?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Isn't that why you came here? Didn't you imply that you'd like to
be my victim?”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Although he was already under her spell, feelings of unease arose
from within him once again. <i>She's sure taking this vampire thing
seriously, </i>he admitted to himself. <i>I sure hope she's not
detached from reality. Wouldn't that be just my luck? </i></span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Would you like to see my lair?” She asked. “You know, the one
I've highlighted in some of my photos? After all, I'd like to put you
at ease and make you as comfortable as possible.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Sure, lead the way.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.22in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She took his hand and led him across the graveyard toward the
abandoned church. Her hand was cold to the touch, but he hardly
noticed, so intoxicated was he by her contact.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There you have it. I hope you enjoyed this month's offering and until next time, keep it creepy!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Photo source: <b><a href="http://gothicpictures.org/">Gothic Pictures Gallery</a></b></span></div>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-17885078385450922422018-01-01T15:11:00.000-06:002018-01-02T10:27:08.197-06:00Creepy Samples Offering: Ozark Howler<div data-contents="true">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="ea4h4-0-0"><span data-text="true">Happy New Year everyone! </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="r4fq-0-0"><span data-text="true">A lot of people have been saying lately that 2017 was certainly a year of many horrors. While they may not be thinking of horror in the traditional sense, I would like to say that my wish for you is to make this coming year horror filled. And what better way to do that than to start things off with another Creepy Samples Offering. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="f65qt-0-0"><span data-text="true">Today's story is found in the book "Tales of Dark Romance and Horror," and it is entitled "Ozark Howler."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="a6kr6-0-0"><span data-text="true">For those of you who may be unaware, an Ozark Howler is a hideous creature that figures in the folklore of the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas and Missouri. It is often described as a cat-like creature with the body structure of a bear, horns on its head, and glowing eyes. Today's offering then tells the tale of an old man, who in his younger days, had lost his new bride to the beast. Now, upon hearing the cries of a wounded dog, the man must go into the dreaded swamp near his house to once again confront the monster. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="9pj2q-0-0"><span data-text="true">We pick up the story inside the marsh where a thickening fog obstructs the man's view--but he knows that the howler is nearby. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="bov1o-0-0"><span data-text="true">The fog continued to thicken until Jack could only see a few yards in any direction. He proceeded cautiously—almost blindly—his shotgun elevated at chest level, ready to fire. When he reached the juncture where the swamp lands met the forest, he paused, now out of breath—panting—his shoes soaking wet and his tired legs aching. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="643bl-0-0"><span data-text="true">He could hear the sound of movement from somewhere behind him—slow methodical steps sloshing through the shallow water. With his eyes unable to penetrate the misty veil, he turned backward and called out questioningly; this time, not as loudly as before, and more cautiously. “Daisy? Daisy?”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="f5hr3-0-0"><span data-text="true">A rustling on the forest floor to the right was quickly followed by the renewed and heart-breaking cries of a terrified dog in pain.“Dang!” He cried out anxiously; and straight away, started in the direction of the weeping animal; its cries emanating from no more than a hundred feet away. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="8is8a-0-0"><span data-text="true">In spite of the overwhelming desire to rescue his beloved pet, he proceeded slowly; a sense of growing peril increasing with every step. As the nervous man drew closer, he could make out the dark outline of a canine lying on the ground. “Daisy!” He cried out. A couple more steps in the animal’s direction however, revealed that he had not responded the cries of his faithful companion but rather, those of an injured wolf lying in a pool of its own blood. The animal snarled with his approach and attempted to lunge at him, thwarted only by its apparent lameness. “Augh!”The man screamed as he jumped back.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="aq3t6-0-0"><span data-text="true">Seeing that the growling wolf was unable to attack him, old McCormick quickly collected himself; and taking pity on the creature, decided to end its suffering. Before he could aim the shotgun however, he was further alarmed by a blood-curdling howl coming from the bog—from where he had stood only moments before! It sounded something like the cry of a wolf and yet, the wail of an elk. He understood though, that it was the cry of neither. It was the scream that he would sometimes hear when he sat in the darkness of his home, inside the protective circle his mother had cast so long ago. There was only one creature whose howl could make the blood run cold; and the man knew that he was about to come face to face with it—the Ozark Howler! </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="i4un-0-0"><span data-text="true">There you have it; the first of many horrors to come in 2018. Until next time then, remember to keep the the new year creepy. I certainly will. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="70nls-0-0"><span data-text="true">Photo: Courtesy of <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/MargarethMarina/">Marina Bocharova Art.</a></b></span></span></span></div>
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Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-58811210658139485082017-12-15T13:40:00.000-06:002017-12-15T13:40:53.710-06:00Creepy Samples Offering: A Very Special Christmas Eve<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="f3eff" data-offset-key="bu30b-0-0">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="bu30b-0-0"><span data-text="true">The daylight continues to diminish as the darkness of night grows longer and deeper. The Yule season is nearly upon us; the longest night of the year draws nigh. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="4lp93-0-0"><span data-text="true">It is indeed the middle of December and that can mean only one thing: It's time once again for another Creepy Samples Offering. I intend to make this one a bit different however, because I want to offer my readers and followers a holiday treat. Oh yes, this caliginous tale, entitled, <i>A Very Special Christmas Eve,</i> will present to you a very different side of this particular holiday, as it demonstrates what sometimes happens to little girls and, in this case, boys, who prefer to be naughty instead of nice. Are you intrigued? I certainly hope so. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="7u5rh-0-0"><span data-text="true"><i>A Very Special Christmas Eve</i> appears in my second publication, <i>The Darkness Beyond the Misty Veil: More Tales of the Macabre.</i> It first appeared on my blog, "The Gothic Embrace," back in December, 2014. Because the piece still appears there in full, and because I'm feeling especially generous today, I have decided to simply link from here to the full story. Enjoy dear readers, and may your holiday season be spooky. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span data-offset-key="7u5rh-0-0"><span data-text="true">You can read the story by clicking <b><a href="https://gothicembrace.blogspot.com/2014/12/a-very-special-christmas-eve-short-story.html">here.</a></b></span></span></span></div>
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Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-90727546573010852017-12-01T16:02:00.000-06:002017-12-01T16:08:00.827-06:00Creepy Samples Offering: Night of the Harvestmen <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hello everyone! We now find ourselves at the beginning of December, and that can only mean one thing. Yes indeed, it's time for another Creepy Samples Offering. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This time around, I'm going to feature one of my personal favorites, which is found in my first book, <i>Tales of Dark Romance and Horror. </i>This particular story, <i>Night of the Harvestmen, </i>was featured in a Horror Addicts dot Net podcast back in 2015, and it won the Horror Addict's <i>Best in Blood Award </i>for Season 9. It is featured in the Episode 99 podcast on the above-mentioned website. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We'll pick the story up the morning after our protagonist had returned home from a visit to the city, where on the night before, he'd had a brief encounter with a lady that rocked his world. Also on that same evening, he had discovered a lone harvestman occupying his bathroom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The
following morning, I put on the coffee and made my way to the shower.
I stepped into the stall and found myself taken aback by the sight of
two more harvestmen standing side by side as they clung to the inside
of the curtain. “Damn it! I thought I told you to stay out,” I
scolded. I reached for one of them but the movement of the shower
curtain caused the other to fall to the floor. “Shit!” I
exclaimed as the critter scurried past my feet and out of sight.
Without hesitation, I took my captive to the door and threw it into
the adjoining greenery. “Now stay out,” I warned, slamming the
door shut. I returned to the shower in a somewhat unnerved state as I
considered that the second harvestman might still be lurking nearby. </span><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">During
the days that followed their numbers increased exponentially. I would
find them lurking on the shelves, scurrying along the sink and
staring at me—yes, staring from the darker recesses of the
restroom—each with its front legs wagging back and
forth—scanning—monitoring my every movement. <i>Perhaps they’ve
been driven inside in search for water by the summer’s drought, </i>I
reasoned. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">They
moved under the cover of darkness and at times, I awoke to find one
or two hovering on the ceiling above my bed or viewing me from behind
one of the ghostly marionettes that decorate my wall. The creatures’
persistence continued to unnerve me and I responded by devising a new
method for removing them, a wide-mouthed bottle with which I would
scoop them up en masse before releasing them into the wild, far
enough away that they would never bother me again. Gentle soul that I
am, it hadn’t yet crossed my mind to kill them—and never with
chemicals, to which I am overly sensitive. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A
couple of days later I noticed my prey running into the narrow space
between the shower stall and the adjacent wall—a gap too small for
me to fit my bottle into—a place too small and dark to capture
them. “Aha! So that’s your place of safety, is it? Well, we’ll
see about that!”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Truth
be told, the idea of looking into that dark corner of the cottage
filled me with dread. A horrible thought took hold—one so revolting
I attempted to expel it from my mind at once. Still, it forced itself
to the forefront of my consciousness and filled me with loathing.
<i>Perhaps they’re breeding in there, sensually rubbing their long,
skinny legs and bodies together in some grotesque sexual dance!</i>
The horrific possibility of it all kept me from peering behind the
stall for a day or two. I couldn’t muster enough fortitude to
confront the revolting spectacle I might find in that obscure place.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Before
long, the need to gather intelligence on my new adversaries
superseded my revulsion over what I might find. On the morning of the
second day I stealthily approached the shower stall with flashlight
in hand. I took a deep breath and shined the first rays of artificial
light into the darkness.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">
“<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Oh shit!” I
exclaimed as I gazed at the sight before me. The monsters had
gathered in hordes—standing side by side—dozens strong, lining
the wall. Their front legs swung back and forth like tentacles
seeking to draw some unsuspecting prey into the hideous creatures’
bosoms, all the while strangling the life out of it. </span></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At
first, I retreated in utter disgust. Then, I cast the luminous rays
into the dark corner once again. This time, I grabbed one of the
little monsters by the hind legs and brought it under a magnifying
glass for closer inspection. What I saw only served to increase my
anxiety. I saw a creature with bulbous eyes and two projections from
its mouth resembling a monstrous beak, one ideal for tearing and
slashing!</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I
tossed the spider-like being outside before grabbing a piece of
newspaper and making my way back to the shower. I folded the
newspaper over my right hand and reached behind the stall and applied
pressure, crushing the life out of the invaders. Bodies fell to the
dank netherworld below while others from among the ranks scattered in
all directions. Again and again I struck at them, grinding them into
the moist wall, leaving behind any compassion I once felt for them. </span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">My
struggle against the eight-legged horde continued unabated over the
next several days as they began moving about in herd-like formations,
climbing on windows and screens, darkening the walls with their
numerous bodies—advancing, always advancing until they had taken
over my cupboards and closets. At night they sometimes ran across my
body as I attempted sleep—mocking me and my inability to vanquish
them. In turn, I fought them with whatever tools I had at my disposal
until, their numbers greatly diminished by my continued efforts, the
survivors lost interest in continuing the fighting. Defeated, the
beasts evacuated the premises.<i> They’re gone. Victory is mine!</i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, I hope you enjoyed this week's entry. The next Creepy Samples Offering will feature a Christmas-related tale. I hope you'll be here for that one. So until next time then, keep it creepy. </span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Photo artwork: Marina Bocharova You can check out her Facebook Page, Marina Bocharova Art <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/MargarethMarina/">here.</a></b></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span>
</span></span>
</div>
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-73632820531535354152017-11-14T09:57:00.000-06:002017-11-20T10:45:56.661-06:00Creepy Samples Offering: The Beckoning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dIZeJ32W64CwbTRI-6U2dkl7Rq-aGplhKUYVeZ3YNw4nusHfcmZZESLTYXiVLoBrnidtN9WI7pJd0Vtnwb52V6V8Zr15R36xB9xDFR6E_6Czvq1LpVXhcQOFVmmvymhId_mVRBM6LxIN/s1600/lands46.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dIZeJ32W64CwbTRI-6U2dkl7Rq-aGplhKUYVeZ3YNw4nusHfcmZZESLTYXiVLoBrnidtN9WI7pJd0Vtnwb52V6V8Zr15R36xB9xDFR6E_6Czvq1LpVXhcQOFVmmvymhId_mVRBM6LxIN/s320/lands46.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Time flies by so quickly. One moment
it's Halloween and seemingly on the next, we're approaching the
holidays. There's no need to fret however, because it's once again time
for another Creepy Samples Offering. </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This time we take several paragraphs from a story entitled<i> The Beckoning, </i>which is found in my first book, <i>Tales of Dark Romance and Horror.</i></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In this tale of pure horror, our
protagonist continually experiences a vivid, unsettling dream in which
he is drawn to a hidden crypt, in which appears an incredibly seductive
woman from out of the darkness. She taunts him with her sensuality and
desirability--invites him to join her. Still, he fears that to do so,
might result in his own death. </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We pick the story up just hours before
All Hallows Eve, where the narrator, unnerved by the latest dream, attempts to drown his unease with a glass of absinthe:</span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“Clearly,
I need some fresh air,” I say to myself as I head for the door. <i>Perhaps I drank a little too much this
afternoon.</i> </span>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Stepping
outside, I hear the familiar creaking sound of the wooden screen door. I am
somehow reassured and grounded by its resonance; that is, until I take in the
new landscape in which I find myself. I gasp at what I see. “Shit! Fucking shit!”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Gone is the
gently rolling prairie that surrounds my habitat. In its place is the forest
that doesn’t exist—the forest of my dreams. It is a forest of hickory, oak and
maple. The brilliant </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">sunshine,
to which I earlier denied access into my domicile, is now obscured by a thickening
veil of clouds. The wind is rustling through the trees, slowly stripping them
of their colorful bounty. </span><span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">For a while I watch, as leaves of yellow, red and
golden brown swirl toward the ground—their final destination. <i>This isn’t real. It can’t be. I must be
dreaming!</i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
sensation of the wind blowing through my hair and its caress upon my skin tell
me that that I am attempting to deceive myself. This is no dream. It is very
real. Intuitively, I understand that now is the time to realize the reality
that lies behind my nocturnal visions. Now is the time to take the step from
prophecy to fulfillment. My blood boils with an almost exquisite level of
excitement, for I fully understand with whom I am about to have an
encounter—she whom I cannot resist. Still, I am filled with a potent sense of
horror and dread. I think of the crypt, the coffin contained within and the two
hideous gargoyles and their dire warning: Nevertheless, I’ll do what I must.
Casting one last look at my country home, I set out for my final destination—an
encounter with fate. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The
walk through the forest is exactly as expected. There is death and decay here.
Decomposing leaves, acorns and mushrooms cover the damp forest floor.
Eventually, I come to an all too familiar clearing at the base of a hill.
“There it is,” I mumble to myself, “the cemetery, just as I remember it.” Then I cast my eyes upon the crypt! A voice wells up from inside me. <i>Go back. Forget this forsaken place! </i>I
can neither forget nor turn back however. So haunted am I by the mysterious
woman who resides within the crypt, that dark but irresistible angel of death,
that I have no choice but to continue on. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
All
is as I saw it in my dreams—the rusting lanterns, the descending stairway, the
near blackness enveloping the interior of the vault. I tremble with fear as I
distinguish the vague outlines of the ghoulish gargoyles as they forever stand
sentry over the casket. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Suddenly, the multitude of candles comes alive with
flame; their shadows dancing upon the walls. My heart is racing; the sound of
its beating pulsates through my eardrums. In spite of the still evident
intoxication induced by my afternoon revelry </span>with
the Green Fairy, pangs of terror permeate my entire body and cut to my very
soul. The gargoyles cry out to me. <b>“Stay
back! Flesh and blood may not enter here. </b>Still, I stand my ground.
<br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then
I hear it; the sound of a woman’s heels—footsteps, walking slowly and
deliberately toward me through the passageway. Each step is louder than its
predecessor; every stride she takes brings me closer to the unknown. Yes, the
unknown, because all of my previous visions ended with an awakening. This time
there will be no such return to my familiar surroundings. This experience is
authentic. Reality has shifted somehow, but this is reality nevertheless. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“Hello
there lover,” she greets me from the beginning of the dark passageway. Walking
toward the coffin she continues. “I’m so glad that you decided to meet your
true destiny—the fulfillment of your dreams.” A seductive smile comes to her
lips. “Do you find me desirable? Are you willing to share your deepest and
darkest yearnings with me?”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Her black lips draw me. Her jade-colored eyes sparkle
in the candlelight like the eyes of a cat caught in the headlights. In</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> spite
of whatever may come next, I can only muster a barely audible “yes.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“Then
what are you waiting for? Come to me. Embrace me.” She beckons me with her
seductive smile and manual gestures. “Come on; let me feel your body against
mine.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“The
creatures that stand watch here, they warn me that flesh and blood may not
enter. They terrify me.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“You
must overcome your fear to earn my affections. Put them out of your mind and
approach.” With a deep breath I make my advance toward her.</span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">*** </span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">That does it for this week's offering. So, what happens next? The answer lies in the book, dear reader. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Photo Source: <b><a href="http://gothicpictures.org/">Gothic Pictures Gallery</a></b></span></span>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-13728752234128773302017-11-02T12:32:00.000-05:002017-11-20T10:45:00.405-06:00Creepy Samples Offering- The Coven<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfy70BlvLxcG5kIB-68FseQJLSjb3pWYEljCdBVTL_oGmmNiZOOfdynv49wYQXAm0-MQL3yBjuE0k-5_-s9cb-lqOITb1Ar9ozTOWVPuvFt0Aj1FF-DIdBulSmt1O-PlGK4xsty_uuaib/s1600/8542E62B9CE0-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="542" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfy70BlvLxcG5kIB-68FseQJLSjb3pWYEljCdBVTL_oGmmNiZOOfdynv49wYQXAm0-MQL3yBjuE0k-5_-s9cb-lqOITb1Ar9ozTOWVPuvFt0Aj1FF-DIdBulSmt1O-PlGK4xsty_uuaib/s320/8542E62B9CE0-13.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
Halloween is behind us, but fear not; it's time once again for
another Creepy Samples Offering.<br />
<br />
Today's sample comes from a piece
included in my first book entitled, "Tales of Dark Romance and Horror."
The title of the story is "The Coven."<br />
<br />
This time, we return once
again to North Carolina's Outer Banks where, after the Appearance of a
charming stranger at Angela's Collectibles, Jasmine and Angela drive up
to Nags Head for a goth event held by a coven of human vampires at a
venue called The Sea Hag. As the two make their acquaintance with their
hosts, a desperate figure walks a lonely neighborhood before arriving at
the venue. <br />
<br />
Several blocks away, a dark and lonely figure
walked along the quiet street; his solitude broken only by the
occasional passing vehicle. Weak, and with an intense desire that had to
be quenched, a man staggered toward his destination. I must not let
them see me like this, he thought to himself. I simply must find some
form of sustenance before I make my appearance.<br />
Triggered by the
sound of the man’s staggering footsteps, the voice of a barking dog
suddenly penetrated the silence of the night. <br />
“Oh yes! Perhaps all is not lost after all,” he mumbled to himself. <br />
The dark figure turned down the next available side street and
focused upon his urgent new mission. Although physically weak, he was
still in full control of his mental abilities; and as he drew closer to
the noisy animal, he concentrated on a mental command. Relax! There is
nothing to fear in death. It is your destiny!<br />
<br />
The dog ceased
making its agitated sounds before the source of its agitation arrived at
the back gate. Upon eyeing the figure standing before it, the dog let
out a quiet whimper—the sound of surrender.<br />
<br />
“Now, now, it’s okay,” the mysterious person whispered while petting the dog. “It’s okay.” <br />
Slowly—ever so slowly he moved closer—locking his victim into an
affectionate but deadly embrace. With a deep breath the being opened
his mouth; and with fangs that surpassed those of his prey in size, tore
open the animal’s jugular. Even as he feasted upon the canine’s warm
sanguine liquid, he could feel his own strength returning—filling his
veins with a renewed energy—and strength! Within moments the dog laid
dead upon the ground, completely drained of its life blood. <br />
<br />
“Ah! Not perfect perhaps, but certainly better,” he said to himself with
a new vigor. This will hold me and will make me appear far less
suspicious as I pursue my ultimate goal for the evening.”<br />
Partially sated, the somewhat invigorated predator strode back toward the main street. <br />
<br />
After our Halloween celebrations, I hope that you the reader can handle
a bit more vampire material, because that's what this offering is
about.<br />
<br />
Until next time then, thanks for reading and liking this page.<br />
<br />
Photo Source: <b><a href="http://gothicpictures.org/">Gothic Pictures Gallery</a></b>Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-459195140618378101.post-67972023645594952082017-10-16T10:40:00.001-05:002017-10-16T10:45:18.418-05:00October Creepy Samples Offering: The Legend of Mercy Brown<span style="font-size: large;">We've reached the middle of October and that means that it's time once again for another Creepy Sample's Offering. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
Since it is so close to Halloween, and to celebrate the grand event,
I'd like to do something different this time around. So, instead of
offering a short-story segment from one of my books, I'd like to link to
a tale that appeared on my blog, The Gothic Embrace, several years
back. It's called "The Legend of Mercy Brown: A True Vampire Story."
Mercy Brown is con<span class="text_exposed_show">sidered by many to be one of America's best known vampires. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Just follow the link below to read the strange, tragic, but true tale of this late nineteenth century phenomenon. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://gothicembrace.blogspot.com/2012/05/legend-of-mercy-brown-vampire-story.html">The Legend of Mercy Brown: A True Vampire Story</a></b></span><br />
Nightwindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07148270720593016700noreply@blogger.com0