Ghost Slayer by Author Majanka Verstraete

Happy holidays to all! Yep, the holidays are barreling toward us. Give a big welcome to Majanka Verstraete, author of Ghost Slayer. This book is scheduled for release April 24, 2018. 

 

Have a seat and grab an insulated mug. I’ve got hot chocolate, hot cider and coffee. Choose your pot, they’re labeled. Pick your choice of a Snicker-doodle, Chocolate Chip or Peanut butter cookie from the plate. Yep, I baked them myself. Lets see what Ghost Slayer is all about.  Thanks for joining us!

Tell us a little about Ghost Slayer.
Twenty-one-year-old Kaelyn has spent half her life hunting ghosts and killing them. But she’s not like the other ghost hunters who have to rely on spells and curses to banish ghosts back to where they came from, hoping that they don’t come back. When Kaelyn kills a ghost, they stay dead.
But in Mortimer Hall, a behemoth of a house, Kaelyn is about to face the most powerful and life-threatening ghost she ever met, and what she doesn’t know is that the ghost has been waiting just for her…
Ghost Slayer a can be found at:   Goodreads 

Not only do we have a peek between the pages of Ghost Slayer, but because it doesn’t release until April 24, 2018, we have a whole CHAPTER 1 for your reading enjoyment! 

Somehow I thought that if we ever met again, my anger would’ve lessened.

The toddler’s wicked laugh echoed throughout the basement, bounced off the walls, and traumatized my ear drums. I cringed and strengthened my grip on the dagger until my knuckles turned white.

Despite the danger I was in, I had trouble staying focused. Today had been a long day. After spending six hours cooped up in class trying to wrap my mind around criminal psychology, I had spent another two hours in the library crouched over dusty newspapers with pages yellowed from age, trying to find out as much as I could about the specter I’d dubbed the Main Street Basement Ghost. Then I headed to Main Street, to an apartment building straight out of a post-apocalyptic movie, and here I was, face to face with the ghost.

Well, maybe not face to face, since the toddler-ghost was playing a game of hide and seek.

The toddler laughed, and I followed the noise, farther into the darkness. I’d brought a flashlight, but the batteries had died about five minutes into the investigation. Usually, I had moonlight to guide me, but in this windowless basement, stark darkness was the only thing greeting me as I groped my way through stacks of boxes, mannequins, and things better left forgotten.

I caught a glimpse of a white, glowing figure moving in the back of the room. Knocking over several boxes, I rushed to the spot as fast I could.

The darkness worked as a disadvantage for the ghost. He was crouched behind a tower of books — nevertheless, the eerie glow surrounding him gave him away. In the daytime, he would’ve been much harder to spot, but in the darkness, he was a glowing beacon.

I stopped in front of the pile of hard covers and glanced at the glow resonating from behind it. The eerie light barely reached my torso. Getting rid of adolescent ghosts was never easy and a pang of guilt tugged at my heart. But this kid had killed three people already, I reminded myself.

At that moment, the kid launched himself at the books, toppling them over, crushing me. I raised my hands to my head for protection while I was continuously bombarded, trying to keep my balance at the same time.

He towered over me. His dark hair was disheveled, and he wore nineteenth- century clothes stained with blood. His head tilted slightly to the right. Half of it had been cut off, as if whoever had decided to rid the kid of his head, didn’t have the stomach to complete the job. His eyes were dark and hollow, and they stared at me with unmatched venom.

Leave me alone.

His lips didn’t move, but his voice was clear as day. Hatred glistened in his eyes. He snarled and launched himself at me with his fingers clawed, growling like an animal.

I took a step back and braced myself for the collision. His full weight hit me right in the chest, and I fell backward. I grabbed the ghost and held him away from me, while he gnarled, bit, spat, and clawed at me.

Go away!

Drops of sweat dripped down my forehead, and blood oozed where he scratched me. I grimaced and pushed the ghost away with all my strength. It flew several meters backward, but instead of dropping to the floor, it hovered mid-air. Its eyes sparked with black flames, and it hissed at me.

Guess I pissed it off for real this time.

I scrambled around on my knees in search of the dagger I dropped to the floor when the ghost knocked me over. The search was proving useless as I couldn’t spot it anywhere.

The ghost’s mouth grew large enough to swallow a small person, forming a black, gaping hole. Its eyes became small slits, like a snake’s. It launched at me again, as fast as a leopard.

Running was out of the question. This thing, zigzagging toward me, its face the material of nightmares, was a lot faster than I was.

My gaze darted left and right, still in search of the dagger when I caught the silver sparkling in the ghost’s glow. It was behind him. Just my luck.

Lunging up, I ran forward toward the ghost, dropped to the floor, and dove below the phantom, straight at the dagger. My sleeve ripped and I bumped my elbow into the wall, but at least I had my dagger back.

The ghost howled like a wounded animal. Turning around, it pulled back its arm and swung at me. I grabbed it mid-swing with my left hand, clenching my teeth as I used all my strength to stop the attack, and with my right hand, I plunged the dagger straight into its belly.

The spirit and I stared at each other for a beat. He screamed, a sound that went through marrow and bone. Then he vanished.

Relieved, I stumbled backward. My knees were wobbly, and I had to hold on to the wall for support. Taking deep breaths, I tried to steady my heartbeat. With the ghost gone, the basement had gone from illuminated-by-eerie-ghost-glow to pitch black darkness.

When I’d recovered a little, I fumbled through the pockets of my jacket until I found my cell phone. The battery was almost dead, but I was hoping it would hold out until I got out of here.

Groping my way through the darkness, I bumped into a million different things, and almost suffered a heart attack when I ran into a life-sized mannequin. It seemed to take forever before I managed to make it out of the basement. I slipped twice on the stairs going up, and by the time I reached the hallway, I felt as if I’d just survived a year in Alcatraz. There were lights in the hallway, although they were on emergency setting; they went on and off every few seconds.

My backpack still lay where I’d left it, right outside the entrance to the basement. I slumped down against the wall, opened up my backpack and grabbed a bottle of water. I drank half of it, and poured the other half over my head in an attempt to cool off. Next, I pulled out my pocket mirror and inspected the damage to my face. Green eyes, thin, black eyebrows, a straight nose, high cheekbones, a small bruise under my left eye, and a cracked lip stared back at me. But at least my teeth seemed fine, and the bruise was small enough to cover up with concealer. My hair was a mess, though.

I loosened my ponytail and ruffled through my long, black hair. With caution, I searched my scalp inch by inch, looking for wounds. I had hit my head pretty hard the first time the ghost launched at me. But apart from a growing bump at the back of my head, the rest seemed fine.

My arms hadn’t been so lucky. They were covered in scratch marks where my sleeve had ripped. Another jacket ruined. My ankle throbbed and my head hurt, but all in all, the damage was minimal. Which was to be expected, considering that the Main Street Basement Ghost was a piece of cake compared to some of the other specters I’d fought.

I stumbled a little when I got back up. After hoisting my backpack over my shoulder, I walked through the hallway and out of the abandoned apartment building.

Another ghost had been sent straight back to the afterlife, and another paycheck awaited my collection tomorrow. My employer would be glad his building was ghost free, and that he could now safely find new tenants for the fourteen apartments above the haunted basement. As for me, I was glad I’d be able to pay the rent for another month, and buy some food for the table. A girl had to eat.

About the Author:

Author Majanka Verstraete has written more than twenty unique works of fiction. A native of Belgium, Majanka’s novels explore the true nature of monsters: the good, the bad, and just about every species in between. Her young adult books include the acclaimed Mirrorland (YA Dark Fantasy) and Angel of Death (YA Paranormal) series of novels.
Majanka is currently developing a new YA shifter series with a fresh take on fierce female detectives called THE ADVENTURES OF MARISOL HOLMES which will be published by Monster House Books in October 2018.
Her NA paranormal romance series, Ghost Slayer, has been picked up by Fire Quill Publishing. The first volume will be released in 2017.
When she’s not writing, Majanka is probably playing World of Warcraft or catching up with the dozens of TV series she’s addicted to.
Twitter: @iheartreads
It was wonderful having you with us today.  Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with Ghost Slayer!

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The Waiting Gate by J Merrill Forrest

We are going to start November off with a spotlight on an interesting book by J Merrill Forrest, The Waiting Gate. Released a few days ago on October 27, 2017.
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip, Pumpkin or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about The Waiting Gate.

Alex Kelburn is a psychic medium who knows full well where we go when we die for he has been there. But what about those in the grip of severe dementia whose minds have disconnected? Where, indeed, do they go? He knows he must find the answer. Not only for Erin, the caring, compassionate nurse who has asked it, but also for his own wife, and for friends Kallie and Trish, and the thousands of others who are grieving and bewildered because they have loved ones who have gradually disappeared until only their physical selves remain.
Working on the case of an unidentified little girl whose remains have been discovered in a shallow grave, he is gradually led to a new and wonderful understanding of just what is on the Other Side …
Hashtag Press     Amazon UK     Amazon

 

 
The Waiting Gate Teaser:
 “Where do you think they go, the patients who no longer seem to be aware of themselves or their surroundings? I mean, take Simon. One moment he’s angry and shouting, the next it’s as if he’s simply left his body behind and gone somewhere. Some of the patients are like that all the time, never having lucid moments at all, and I’ve always wondered … where do they go?”

 

About the Author:
J Merrill Forrest’s deep interest in the supernatural is a major theme in her writing. For more than thirty years Jane has researched her subject, visiting psychics, mediums, Spiritualist churches and séances, always keeping an open and questioning mind, hunting down evidence.
At age 40, J Merrill Forrest followed her dream of going to university and gained a BA (Hons) in English Literature, and returned to academia ten years later to gain her MA in Creative Writing. It was during this time she began to work on her novel ‘Flight of the Kingfisher’, published in 2015, which deals with the emotive and polarising subject of life after death and introduced psychic medium Alex Kelburn. He returns in her latest novel, ‘The Waiting Gate’, the main theme of which is dementia and what happens to those who ‘disappear’ as the disease takes hold.
J Merrill Forrest is also the author of ‘Orders from Above’ published in 2013.

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Interview with C.L. Wilson Author of The Sea King

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Winter King comes a breathtaking new tale of love and adventure set in the mystical land of Mystral, The Sea King released today!

 

Give a warm welcome to C.L. Clark, author of  The Sea King, book two of the Weather Mages of Mystral  

Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron, a Bat Wing Chocolate Chip, Pumpkin or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out about C.L. Wilson and The Sea King.

Tell us what inspired this particular story?

I actually had no idea I was going to write THE SEA KING until I got to the end of THE WINTER KING (the first Weathermages of Mystral book) and met Dilys Merimydion.  He just showed up and leapt off the pages, demanding his own story.  Then he worked out an agreement with Khamsin, helping her defeat the Ice King in exchange for her welcoming him and his men to Wintercraig to court potential wives.

When I was first sitting down to write his book, I thought Autumn was going to be his bride, but as I started brainstorming the plot and the characters, I realized I was wrong.  Summer, who I thought was a sweet, gentle little doormat, took one look at Dilys and said, “um, no.  He’s mine.”

Do you see yourself in your characters?

Actually, I don’t.  My characters are their own people.  What I do do is work hard to understand them, to understand how they feel and how/why they react to certain people and situations.  (If I don’t understand it, I can’t write it.)  While I’m writing a character’s story, I’m taking the same journey they are, being just as surprised as they are, feeling just as emotional as they do.  I cannot plot what obstacles they are going to encounter, and I can’t determine how they’re emotionally going to react to something until it’s upon them, and even then, how they react is based on everything that’s come before, so I can’t do too much writing out of sequence without a ton of revisions.

Basically, my characters let me step outside of myself and be someone else for a while.  I imagine it’s pretty similar to how method actors feel when they’re deep in a role.

Where do your story ideas come from? If they come to you in the middle of the night, do you get up and write them all down?

My ideas come from all over the place.  I was driving down the road a couple of weeks ago, listening to Hell on Heels, and got a story idea.  Sometimes I dream about stories (but that’s usually only about something I’m currently writing).  In that case, yes, I have to get up and write it down else I might forget it.  Sometimes I’ll read a book, and the feeling a particular scene or character gives me makes me sit up and take notice.  Then I play around with that feeling in my head, looking for ways to explore that feeling in my own way.

Most of the time, I’ll have some half-baked kernel of an idea, then I call up my brainstorming buddies, the Starfish Club, and they help me turn my half-baked ideas into something more viable.  Lord love ‘em.

Why do you write what you write?  Contemporary, paranormal,  suspense, etc.

I write epic fantasy romance. Well, that’s primarily what I publish.  I have WIPs and unpublished/unfinished manuscripts in contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal/futuristic romance.  I usually write romance of some kind, and I generally prefer to write stories that have some sort of magic or supernatural element in them.  The romance is because I love the emotional connection and all the excitement, passion, and drama of finding and falling in love.  The fantasy/paranormal is because I love world-building, love figuring out “if people could do this (insert magical/preternatural ability) how would they use it?  How would that ability change who they are/what they’re like/how they behave?”  Hey, if I’m going to play make-believe and  tell a story, why not go all out and just have fun with all manner of imagination?

 Tell us a little about The Sea King.
He wasn’t supposed to choose her…
Seafaring prince Dilys Merimydion has been invited to court the three magical princesses of Summerlea. To eradicate the pirates threatening Calberna and to secure the power of the Sea Throne, Dilys vows to return home with a fierce warrior-queen as his bride. But politics has nothing to do with unexpected temptation.
She didn’t dare wed him…
A weathermage like her sisters, Gabriella Coruscate’s gentleness exemplifies the qualities of her season name, Summer. Yet her quiet poise conceals dangerous powers she cannot begin to wield. Better to live without excitement, she reasons, than risk her heart and lose control—until an irresistible Sealord jolts her awake with a thunderclap of raw desire.
Until evil threatens everything they hold dear…
When pirates kidnap Summer and her sisters, Dilys begins a desperate quest to save the woman he loves. Only by combining his command of the seas with the unleashed fury of Summer’s formidable gifts can they defeat their brutal enemies and claim the most priceless victory of all: true love.
HarperCollins      Amazon        Google Play      Apple      BN
A peek between the pages of The Sea King:
 You can get off me now,” she ordered, mimicking Autumn’s haughtiest tone.
He didn’t move. Instead, he locked his gaze on hers and, with slow deliberation, laid his left wrist flat against her right.
Summer sucked in a breath and went rigid be- neath him as a fresh surge of energy shot through her. Only this time, instead of an electric thunderclap that stunned the senses, this surge fired up every sen- sual cell in her body. If Dilys hadn’t been straddling her, she would have wrapped her legs around his waist and dragged him down atop her. As it was, she burned for him in the worst way. The way his nostrils flared and his tattoos went bright with a fresh burst of phosphorescent blue light only fanned the flames of her desire. She wanted to command him to touch her . . . to kiss her. Her gift of Persuasion flared, bringing the words and the magic to the tip of her tongue.
About the Author:
C. L. WILSON grew up camping and waterskiing across America, from Cherry Creek reservoir in Denver, CO, to Lake Gaston on the border of Virginia and North Carolina, to Georgia’s Lake Lanier and Lake Allatoona. When she wasn’t waterskiing and camping on family vacations, you could usually find her with a book in one hand and a sketch pad in the other—either reading, writing stories, or drawing.
Sometime around the ninth grade, she decided she was better at drawing her pictures with words than paints and charcoals, and she set aside her sketchpad to focus entirely on writing. Wilson is active in Tampa Area Romance Authors (TARA), her local chapter of Romance Writers of America.
When not engaged in writerly pursuits, she enjoys golfing, swimming, reading, playing video games with her children, and spending time with her friends and family. She is also an avid collector (her husband says pack rat!), and she’s the proud owner of an extensive collection of Dept. 56 Dickens and North Pole villages, unicorns, Lladro figurines, and mint condition comic books.
Wilson currently resides with her husband, their three wonderful children, and their little black cat, Oreo, in a secluded ranch community less than thirty miles away from the crystalline waters and sugar-sand beaches of Anna Maria Island and Siesta Key on Florida’s gulf coast.

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Barbra E. Ross, Author of A Mortal Indiscretion

Give a warm welcome to Barbra E. Ross, author of  A Mortal Indiscretion – A Justin and Ambra Series – book one!

 

Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron. Take your choice of a bat wing Chocolate Chip or Pumpkin, or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Barbara E. Ross and her A Mortal Indiscretion – The Justin and Ambra Series, book one. Be sure to read to the bottom and enter the rafflecopter giveaway!


A sexy vampire. A little deceit. A love worth dying for. What more could you want from a vampire romance?
 
A little about A Mortal Indiscretion – The Justin and Ambra Series, book one. 
 
A man. A vampire. A love story….
 
One night changed everything for bachelor Justin Bertolli. A womanizer at heart, never quite ready to settle down, he meets the woman who would change his life forever. Ambra Taylor is that woman, but is she all that Justin bargained for? Told from a male protagonist point of view, A Mortal Indiscretion delivers wholly unique narratives that don’t succumb to the same old recycled concepts. 


Everything unravels in Justin’s world. Although Ambra is a vampire, she is the vulnerable one of the two characters, providing a refreshing twist on standard tales. She is not waiting for her prince to come save her on his white horse. She simply desires love, to feel human love again and will do anything to protect the love of Justin. 



When Justin discovers the truth about who and what she is, will he still love her? Will he still want her? Find out, as their hearts collide in this epic tale of love.
 
 
 
Amazon     Createspace


 

A peek between the pages of A Mortal Indiscretion –  The Justin and Ambra Series

  “Why did you not give her a chance? Then maybe you would be…”

“She isn’t you. No one makes me feel like you do. No one,” I said and she looked over at me.

“You still believe that? After all I have put you through? After all I have done?”

“Yes. I believe it. I know it.”

“But you must realize, that I am not what you thought I was. Don’t you?”

“Yes. I know that.”

“But, I do not understand. Does it not upset you?” she asked.

“Yes. It upsets me. But you owe me the truth, and you are going to tell me the truth now, right? No more lies?”

“Yes Justin. And then, maybe you will go running to that girl. Maybe you should go after her right now. There may still be a chance.”

“No. I don’t run away. That is your thing.”

She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, naked. She turned her back to me. I looked at her back, so sexy. Shoulders strong and defined. She had her arms across her chest. She knew I was going to ask the questions. I think she was mentally preparing herself for the blows.

“Go ahead Justin. Ask.”

“First of all… You’re not gonna tell me that you have to work in the morning, are you? Because I ain’t falling for that shit anymore,” I said. It just slipped out of my mouth. Like I didn’t have a filter between my brain in my mouth.

“No. I suppose you would not.” She turned to look at me.

“And you are staying here with me, right? I am going to have the pleasure of your company during the day? Right?” I pressed, as I felt my anger rising.

“Yes, I will stay. But I cannot go out with you during the day. You will have to keep the shades drawn. It is just not that simple to explain.” She kept her head down as she spoke these words.

“Fine. I can handle that. Tell me, what exactly would happen if I did open the shades Ambra?”

“I would burn up and die,” she stated, flatly.

“What are you Ambra? Are you ready to tell me to my face now?” I was insistent. “Because I really need to know.”

“I am…” She started and then, she became silent again.

“Say it, dammit! I want to hear you say it to me,” I was really getting pissed.

“I am a monster,” she whispered.

“What? What kind of monster? You tell me God dammit!” I yelled.

“A vampire,” she said it so quietly, keeping her back to me.

“You turn around and say it to my face. You have kept this from me for so long. I want you to look me in the eye! I deserve it!” I grabbed her shoulders as I yelled at her. She turned to me, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Justin, I am a vampire.”

 
About the Author:
 
Barbra E Ross lives in Michigan. She is a nurse by day and a writer of fiction at night.
 
 
 
 

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It was spooktacular having you with us today.  Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with A Mortal Indiscretion – The Justin and Ambra Series, book one.  Happy Halloween!

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