News, updates & a photo

I know, right? I'm a horrible blogger. Which is funny because I used to be a fantastic blogger. My other blog, What Passes for Sane on a Crazy Day, was like my baby for a long time. I blogged faithfully (and funnily, so I'm told) nearly every day. For years. Now, I'm lucky if I post once a month. What happened? Did I lose my zest for blogging? Did my life become unfunny? The answer is a resounding "no" to both questions. I still love blogging, I just can't seem to find the time. And my life become unfunny? Seriously? With my family? Not likely.

So what did happen? I got busy. I know, it's a pretty lame excuse for a writer. "I was too busy to write." Um, but I am. I'm running a company. It takes a lot of time. Seriously, some days I barely have time to go to the bathroom. I know you think I'm kidding, but I swear I'm not. My bladder pinky swears. But I'm not here today to give you excuses or facilitate a conversation between my readers and my bladder. I'm here to give you news! Yay! News! No, no, not that boring election coverage news (how many different ways can they insult each other after all?), not sad news about murders, hate crimes, tragic accidents, or drought conditions (but seriously, if it doesn't rain soon and settle some of this dust soon I'm probably going to sneeze myself to death). No, news about me.

I'm hoping that some of you have been seeing the posts on my FB author page or AKP's FB page about the upcoming anthology Fading Light, which I'm ecstatic to be in. I'm sharing a table of contents with some amazing heavy hitters in the horror genre. I'm very proud of my story, though it's a huge departure from my usual writing. And to top it all off--the cover art rocks. The anthology should be available on September 1st. So start saving those pennies now if you want to purchase it. In the next few days I will be posting some excerpts and a closer look at the antho.

And--in even bigger news--I have a short story collection coming out next month. I'm equal parts excited and petrified. Excited, because, well, it's all about me. And I love the stories in it (surely hoping you do too). They are all tales of horror or dark fantasy, some previously published, some new to the public. There are also a few poems. And yes, AKP is the publisher. I know that some look down on releasing work by the staff of a publishing company. If it's all we ever did, promote the work of our staff, I could understand the criticism. But we don't. The fact is we publish a variety of works by new and established authors in multiple genres. I could have shopped my collection around, but why? AKP has a very generous royalty split with it's authors (and yes, I'm taking the same deal that we give our other authors, so that part of the royalties go back to the company). AKP has a fantastic cover artist and is getting a good reputation for quality work. So it seems like a no-brainer to me. But, in part to help silence the critics, and in part because I just think he's a damn fine editor, I have hired Rob M. Miller (you can check out his website here) to edit the collection. It would be impossible for me to edit my own collection, I don't believe anyone is that good of an editor. And I wanted someone outside of our staff to take a look at it.

I'm working with Rebecca Treadway, AKP's amazing cover artist (her new website is under construction), to incorporate a photo of my daughter, Molly Flanagan (she doesn't have a website), on the cover. Molly is gorgeous (okay, I could be slightly biased, but I doubt it), has modeling experience, and will work for books. It's a win-win. And I'm having a blast playing photographer and scouting locations. I posted some of the photos we took, but unfortunately weren't quite awesome enough for print covers (something about DPI's & ISO settings & light) on my FB page. You can see them there, but my favorite is this one:

She looks so sad.

 

 

Although, all of them were cool, in my opinion. So hopefully, we will manage to take one that does work for the cover. We're doing a photo shoot next week in a historical cemetery. Fingers crossed.

 

 

And last but not least, I'm currently reading the submissions for the upcoming anthology No Place Like Home: Tales from a Fractured Future. I will be editing the antho, but will not have a story in it. This one is strictly an editing cred. The theme is sci-fi/horror dystopian. It's an odd amalgamation, but the authors who've submitted really ran with the theme of the future gone horribly wrong. I'll have a table of contents on this one by the end of the month and hopefully, a sneak peak at the cover art (which is amazing) to share.

 

And that's what's going on in my world. How about yours?

 



♥Stacey

Sample Sunday

Apparently #SampleSunday is a "thing" on twitter. So, while I'm not often a follower, I decided I have been really neglecting this Author blog so I'll play along. I'm giving you another sample of my WIP (no title yet). This will be the third scene put up so far (the others were on the WIP page), but I keep putting them up in random order. Either they are good enough that they leave you craving more and you'll buy the book when its published, or you'll be so confused by the random scenes that you'll have to buy the book in order to figure it out. Either way, you buy the book. It's a total win/win for me! *chuckles evilly and rubs hands together* What? Diabolical scheme? Who me?

Now do remember this has not been to either editor or proofreader yet (except for my kids) so its all raw footage, so to speak. Without further ado or disclaimers- here you go:

I must have dozed off at this point, for the next thing I remember is the carriage pulling to a halt in front of an inn in a modest town. Jonathon and Jacob dismounted and the coachman helped us from the carriage. The village was called Hamby. The inn itself was humble but clean and had a small private dining room we could gather in to eat a simple repast and quench our thirst. My legs were glad of the chance to stretch and walk about a bit. Everyone was growing weary of travel. Even Claire’s excitement seemed to have dimmed with the tedium of the road.  The food was plentiful and delicious. A smiling serving girl hovered about us filling mugs and replenishing plates. No one spoke until we had eaten our fill.

“Have you any idea how much farther we have to go today Jacob?” Claire asked.

 “I do not,” Jacob said. “I do not think it is far though. I would say another hour or two at most. We should be there before nightfall.”

“Where is it ye be goin’ if ye don’t mind me askin’?” the serving girl said.

 “We journey to a house known as Starkraven, it is owned by a friend of ours.”

The girl’s eyes grew wide as saucers and a look of sheer terror crossed her face.

 “Ye can’t be serious sir! No one resides at Starkraven! Well, no one living at least.” The girl’s face had paled and held no trace of humor. It was easy to see that she meant what she said and truly believed there were ghosts there. The pit of my stomach began to burn.

 Jacob eyed her with barely concealed disdain. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “The house has recently passed into my friend’s hands and he has already traveled there to prepare for us.”

 The girl shook her head and then cast her glance about the room. Her eyes settled on me and she said “No good can come of this. There are some places that’s jest evil and nothin’ or no one can change that. Darkness stalks the hall of that house and nothin’ but tragedy comes to those what stay there. If ye have any care for yerselves at all, ye’ll go back the way ye come and not even set yer eyes on Starkraven.”

With that, she turned on her heel and left the room swiftly. We all sat in stunned silence for a moment. I sat there shaking. That was twice that I’d heard dire warnings to stay away from Starkraven. Twice I had been singled out and warned. Even the thought of a few days with Charles could not overcome the fear I felt in that moment.

“I think we should go home.” The words were said so quickly and quietly that I was not even certain I had uttered them aloud. I must have, for Claire was quick to respond.

 “On the words of a country serving girl? How silly Olivia. We knew that the locals would be scared of the house; her words should come as no surprise. Nor should they have any impact on our intent.” I could tell by her tone that she was angry, both with me and with the serving girl. Claire hated for anyone to go against her will. I knew that she would not let anything change her plans. And yet, I had to try.

 “It is not just her words Claire.” I said softly. “I have had ill feelings about this adventure from the very beginning. I cannot explain these misgivings for they are not based on facts just feelings. Call it intuition if you must.”

 “Well, for someone with dire misgivings about our plan you went about it well enough. You’re just being silly like always. You’re always timid and fearful. But things always work out. I have not gotten you into serious trouble yet and this is no exception. I will not call a halt to this escapade for your misgivings or a serving girl’s superstitious beliefs.”

“It is not just either of those Claire. There’s more. There’s something I haven’t told any of you.” I looked down at my hands where they lay in my lap twisting my napkin relentlessly.

“Oh for heaven’s sake” Claire sighed. “Out with it then. What’s your big revelation?”

“Do you remember the girl I told you all about? The one who can foretell futures and speak with the dead?” I looked about the room. Jonathon and Jacob stood silent and stony faced by the fireplace. Elizabeth was looking down and Claire stared at me with her eyebrow cocked. Only Nan and Phoebe seemed to be giving my words any credence. Nan reached down and took my hand in hers.

“Go on Olivia. I remember her.” She said.

“I met her. When I was with my Aunt on Tuesday, I met Emma. She came up to me on the porch of one of the orphanages and she just stared at me at first. Then she grabbed my hand and began begging me not to go! She told me the house was evil and said she could see danger and madness and death in my future. She knew. She knew about our going to Starkraven!” I burst into tears so overcome with fear was I.

Claire sighed. “Oh Olivia. I’m sorry I was cross with you.” She came and sat beside me and took my other hand. “But you’re getting yourself worked up over nothing. There’s no way this Emma child knew of our plans. No way she could have. I am convinced that she was just having a bit of sport with you. You’re so gullible that you make yourself an easy target for this sort of thing. Really, foretelling the future, talking to ghosts? It’s not real. None of it. The locals are a silly superstitious lot and of course they have their stories and ghost tales. But I assure you none of its real. We’ll be fine. And we’ll have a very pleasant time banging around the old house and exploring. Why can you even imagine what treasures we’ll find?” Her cheerfulness had returned and Claire was very hard to resist when she was smiling.

 I was still frightened. She hadn’t been there when I’d seen Emma. She didn’t see the intensity in her eyes or the sheer terror she’d tried to convey. But what could I do? We only had one carriage and Claire was determined to go forward with her plan. I nodded my head and tried to force a smile to my face.

“Well then. That’s settled.” Claire smiled and we all began to gather our belongings in order to continue on our way. We had to pass through the large taproom on our way to the door. As we did so, all conversation ceased and all eyes turned to stare at us. I was greatly unnerved, but Claire put her arm around me and guided me to the door and into the stable yard.

We continued on our way though conversation was nearly nonexistent within our carriage. Each of us seemed lost in our own thoughts and Phoebe gripped my hand so tightly I feared she’d leave bruises. I knew then that she was as scared as I but neither of us dared to cross Claire again. I no longer tried to cheer myself but surrendered myself to my ill feelings and premonitions. It was beyond my control. I could only try to stay calm and pray that I was mistaken and Claire had the right of things.

If you enjoyed it~ leave a comment.
♥Stacey

Meet Olivia

Olivia is the narrator of my current work in progress, which I think will be a novella. An historical haunted house novella. Its a huge departure from my usual work, but Olivia wouldn't let me be until I started telling her story. The vast majority of the other writers reading this will know exactly what I mean. And the story? Well its pretty much writing itself most days, which is good, but then there will be the editing.

Olivia is a 19 year old girl who wants what all 19 year old girls want; to be thought pretty and smart, to have a handsome guy fall in love with her, to spend time with her friends and for her parents to treat her like an adult. But Olivia's major problem is peer pressure. She has a clique of friends and Claire is the Queen Bee (think mean girls for the Victorian set). And Claire always gets what she wants. Even though Olivia knows deep inside her, that something is wrong with Starkraven, she lacks the backbone to stand up to Claire and halt her plans. There's a price to pay for not believing in yourself, and for Olivia, it's a high price indeed.

I'm posting another excerpt to my WIP on the WIP page. I hope you'll all check in with Olivia and come to worry about her as much as I do.

Stacey

*Photo was taken from Photobucket.com; user Lady_Dark_Vader

The writing life

I'm going to warn you that this post may not make a whole lot of sense. My brain appears to be slightly scrambled today and I'm not sure why. True, I haven't slept so well for a couple of nights and I'm really in a time crunch on a couple of projects but um, wow. I'm kind of sucking it up today. Anyway...

"I've finally discovered why my house is haunted!" I said as I walked into the kitchen this morning where Sean was making Mo, Luke, me and himself fried egg sandwiches for breakfast. My kids knew, of course, that I wasn't talking about my actual house, which (darn the luck) isn't haunted (although the garage may be and that's why I don't park in there), but about the story I'm working on.

"So why is it so evil?" Mo asked.

"Because in medieval times it that land was used as an execution spot."

"Oh that's good!" Mo said. "How did you come up with that?"

"I'm sort of loosely (very loosely) basing it off of a real area in England. I had to find a map of England this morning and try to figure out exactly what distance a horse drawn carriage could have travelled in eight hours. Then I went down the direction I said they were heading and found a town. Then I read about its history and there it was. Kind of. Actually the execution spot is on another hill near the town but since the story is fiction and I made up a name for my town and all...I just wanted to get an idea of the general area and geography."

I'm lucky. The kids get involved in my writing. Mo reads each days work and corrects typos and things like that. Sean listens as I read it aloud and picks out errors. Mo has read the story a couple of times and I've read the whole thing through like 20 or so, but I read it to Sean once and he points out that at the beginning I said there were seven in the group and then introduced eight characters. How did I miss that? And that's why EVERYONE needs a good editor or at least a good proofreader.

Sean is also always willing to play the "what if" game with me and help me brainstorm out plot points. Sometimes when I'm stuck, all it takes is that little bit of discussion to spark the writing again. So as much as they distract me and take me away from the computer, I don't know what I'd do without them.