Showing posts with label Halloween romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Halloween romance. Show all posts

Thursday, October 27, 2022

Meet Jenna Barwin and Check Out Her Spooktacular Vampire Romance DARK WINE AT HALLOWEEN, Newest of Her Hill Vampire Series

 About Jenna

Jenna writes the Hill Vampire series, which blends mystery, wine, and spicy romance into a heady paranormal combination. It follows the romance of Henry Bautista Vasquez, a 200 year old vampire, and his mate, Dr. Cerissa Patel, as they deal with mysteries and disasters that befall the exclusive vampire community of Sierra Escondida, also known as the Hill.

When not writing, Jenna enjoys photographing denizens of the sea, and is known to attend Victorian dances in full regalia right down to pantaloons and a hoop skirt.

About DARK WINE AT HALLOWEEN





When Henry and Cerissa discover a two-day-old vampire in a Halloween funhouse, the teen’s fate just might tear them apart.

 

At almost eighteen, the youth didn’t ask to be turned and hates being a vampire. As heart-wrenching as his situation is, the Hill can’t endlessly accept new residents.

Placed under house arrest until his fate is decided, the teen bites Cerissa while seeking her help to escape the community’s walls, and Henry’s jealousy flares. Then an ex-girlfriend of Henry’s suddenly appears in town, and Cerissa fights against her own green-eyed monster.

With dead bodies stacking up in a neighboring city, Henry and Cerissa must pull together to help the teen accept his situation and recover his memory, so they can identify and stop the crazed vampire who turned the teen—before he or she kills another mortal.

If they don’t, the killer’s actions might reveal to mortal police the wicked truth: vampires really do exist

 

An Excerpt

Rancho Bautista del Murciélago—Mid-October

Dr. Cerissa Patel clicked on the link. Zombies, Vampires, Serial Killers! headlined the webpage. As she scrolled down, animated ghosts flew across the screen, and in big orange letters, the page asked, Will you survive the haunted warehouse? Underneath the question, a smaller font read, Now through Halloween night at Mordida Mall.

Cerissa raised the phone back to her ear. “Oh, this looks like fun.”

Her bestie, Karen, who waited on the other end of the line, laughed. “And they have plenty of tickets available. What do you say to tomorrow night?”

“Do you think the guys will agree?”

Karen blew a juicy raspberry into the phone. “If they don’t, we can go without them. Maybe some of the other mates would like to join us.”

***

Mordida Shopping Mall—The next night

Henry groaned to himself as Rolf drove into the shopping center parking lot. A recently bankrupt chain store had left a warehouse-sized building empty, and the maze producers rented it for the Halloween season.

The exterior décor was just what one would expect, and he hated the fakery. Eerie lighting illuminated a metal framework built in front of the warehouse, creating a multilevel façade, and fog machines blew white clouds around the big arch through which the public entered, masking what lay behind it.

The elevated catwalk sported several hooded bodies hanging from nooses and featured a latticework that extended from the platform over the arched entrance. Actors roamed around the catwalk like mindless zombies, heavily made-up in blood and gore, and tried to reach through the latticework to touch the public as they entered.

Fortunately, there wasn’t much of a line out front. Maybe they could get through this falso horror quickly.

Once they parked, Henry opened the Escalade’s door for Cerissa and offered her his hand as she stepped down from the SUV. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

One corner of her mouth curled, and she pointed a finger in his direction. “No complaining. You promised.”

“Of course, mi amor,” he said with a slight bow. He’d given his word, so he would try to be a good sport. Besides, he’d extracted a promise from her to celebrate Día de los Muertos with him on the day after Halloween. The joyful celebration remembering the dead included ofrendas—offerings, particularly of favorite foods—placed near the graves of loved ones to entice those souls to visit. He planned on visiting Yacov’s grave, among others, that night.

He zipped closed his leather jacket—he wasn’t cold, but everyone around them dressed casually in blue jeans and fall coats, and he wanted to fit in. Besides, he went nowhere unarmed, and the jacket puffed around the shoulder harness, holding his Beretta, masking the bulge.

To the ugly scarecrow at the maze entrance, he presented his phone, the screen open to the foursome’s prepaid tickets. The scarecrow pointed a handheld scanner at the QR code, counted them off, and then hustled them inside with the parting words “Hope you come out alive.”

As they walked under the arch, Cerissa looked back over her shoulder, a big grin on her face, and the crystal flooded Henry with her fluttery excitement. If she was this happy, then he’d do his best to enjoy the experience.

Glancing in Rolf’s direction, he asked, “Do you want to go in first?”

“Absolutely not.” Rolf sniggered as he swept his fingers through his straight blonde hair, pushing it back, then waved his hand at the entrance. “You and Cerissa should take the lead, since it’s her first time.”

Henry rolled his eyes at his business partner and asked the heavens for patience. Placing a hand on Cerissa’s lower back, he guided her ahead of him. Once they were inside, a long, dark hallway took them deeper into the maze, with its walls painted all black, and only an occasional bare light bulb overhead to illuminate the dimly lit way. A deep bass thrummed the same note over and over, and the subwoofer’s sound vibrated his bones. The ambience created a claustrophobic sense of impending doom.

He slowed when she did, stopping right behind her. She pulled her long hair aside, exposing her neck to him. He would have believed it an unconscious movement if it weren’t for the zing of lust he felt through the crystal that connected them.

He slipped his arms around her and whispered into her ear as they continued to creep forward, “You are trying to tempt me.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you.”

“I am only ensuring you are also entertained, Quique.”

“No, you are misbehaving.”

The Covenant strictly forbade biting in public, and he had no intention of violating the rules and finding himself answering to the council again.

He growled low in his throat, the scent of her blood enticing him despite his resolve. “Now behave yourself, or you will pay for it when we return home.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.” He kissed the shell of her ear. “Now hush.”


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Sunday, October 25, 2020

Meet Diane Bator and Read About “Drop Dead Cowboy,” Book 1 of the Sugarwood Mysteries, Just in Time for Halloween!

Every year I gather at least a dozen ghosty, spooky, creepy and paranormal books for October, and in between watching all the paranormal TV shows, I read them. Here's another, by my guest Diane Bator.

About Diane

Diane is the author of several mystery novels—and series. She’s a member of Crime Writers of Canada, Sisters in Crime Toronto, International Thriller Writers and the Writers Union of Canada. When she’s not writing, she works in a small, professional theatre which will one day be subjected to immortality in a whole new paranormal mystery series.


A
bout DROP DEAD COWBOY




I wrote this book during NaNoWriMo 2019 where you push yourself to write 50,000 words in a month. I did it, and then some, with a push from a great friend! I spend the next couple months editing, expecting it to be published in September 2020. Then Covid hit and my publisher moved it UP to June since I’d already finished and submitted it!

This November for NaNoWriMo, I’ll be working on Book 2, currently titled Spirted Witch which is a Christmas book. 

What's it About?

Audra Clemmings loves Halloween. At least until she sees the display of voodoo dolls in the shop next door that resembles nearly everyone in Sugarwood, Ontario—including her. 

Then there’s the matter of the dead cowboy on the bench in front of her shop Stitch’n’Time…

An Excerpt

Merilee laughed as she walked toward the storage room for another box. She returned with a large, tattered cardboard box. “I thought you were going to put up these decorations. Weren’t they your dad’s?”

The instant I saw the childlike scrawl of crayon across the side of the box, I sighed. “Yes. My mom dropped them off for us to use in the store window, but I wasn’t sure what to take out. Some of them are pretty old. Go ahead and use what you want.”

“Okey dokey.” She pawed through the beat up box and came out with a yellowed skeleton about a foot tall. “This guy looks kind of fun.”

“That’s Herbert. The kids might like him. He always gave me shivers,” I said. “I suppose we can put him up in the window. There should be a metal stand he hangs from.”

Merilee cackled. “Bwahaha! Come with me, Mr. Herbert. You are getting a place of honour in the front window.”

I chuckled then paused. “You didn’t finish telling me what Miss Lavinia put on the bench out front.”

She placed Herbert in the window then spun around and clapped her hands. “Oh right. It’s not a what so much as a who. This morning, there was a drop dead gorgeous cowboy out there playing guitar.”

“Playing a guitar?” My mouth fell open. “Is he like one of those mechanical things you can buy at the hardware store?”

“Nope, he’s a real life flesh and blood cowboy.”

“How is a cowboy playing a guitar Halloweeny?” I asked.

“Have you ever had an earworm?” Merilee returned to rifle through the box some more.

I slid several skeins of cobalt blue embroidery thread into their own cubby then tossed the small white box toward the counter. “A what?”

“An earworm,” Merilee said. “You know. One of those songs you hear that gets stuck in your head all day and when you’re trying to go to sleep at night. Don’t forget to save those boxes for Miss Lavinia.”

“Oh no! Do not tell me what song you heard.” I covered my ears. “I don’t want it stuck in my head all day too.”

“See. They’re scary,” she said. “Anyway, I heard that cowboy playing a song on my way here this morning and now I can’t get it out of my head. The funny thing is, I’ve never even heard the song before. There’s this one line…”

When Merilee stopped talking, I glanced up. “What is it?”

“‘Looking for her is like finding a needle in a haystack,’” she said.

I thought a moment. “You said he’s dressed like a cowboy, right?”

“Right.”

“So does that mean he’s looking for an old girlfriend, his dog, or his horse?” I bit my lip and struggled not to laugh.

Merilee’s eyes grew wide. “Could be his truck. I didn’t see a horse out there anywhere.”

We burst into laughter. Merilee pulled a few more items from the box. One was a costume that made my eyes well with tears. I turned away and put the box of embroidery threads in the bottom of the custom cabinet Merilee’s husband Tony had made us. Needlepoint was always my passion, and it took a tidy lump of money inherited after my aunt’s death to prompt me and Merilee pitch in to rent a tiny store front on Main Street.

Stop by https://bookswelove.net/bator-diane/ to learn more about Diane's books and for buy links!


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