SPOTLIGHT ON A BOOK AND AUTHOR

My spotlight in this blog post is on poet/novelist Stephen Alexander North, who writes sci-fi, horror, thrillers, fantasy, and poetry, and his newest release, Dead Tide. This is the first book in the Dead Tide series. 

THE WORLD IS ENDING, BUT THERE ARE SURVIVORS!

Nick Talaski is a hard-bitten angry cop. Graham is a newly divorced cab driver. Bronte is a Gulf War veteran hunting his brother’s killer. Janicea is a woman consumed by unflinching hate. Trish is a gentlemen’s club dancer. Morgan is a morgue janitor.

THERE ARE NO CONTINGENCY PLANS FOR THIS!

The dead have risen, and the citizens of St. Petersburg and Pinellas Park are trapped. The survivors are scattered, and options are few. And not all monsters are created with a bite.

Some still have a mind of their own

Blake

The smell of death and decay would always be with him. No amount of scrubbing or sterilizing dulled it. However, he was so familiar with it he barely perceived it, and now he only noticed the smell when he opened a door. He pushed his mop and bucket along a gleaming white-tiled corridor, trying to ignore the squealing of the wheels.

There was a double door just ahead. A sign to the left of the doors read: Decedent Storage and Investigations. He held one door open with his body and pulled the bucket through. His boss, one of the technicians, stood just a few feet away inside.

“Ah, there you are, Blank. Table six has a spill… bastard had a colostomy bag, and I didn’t know it. The thing burst all over. Hop to it! Dr. Bastrov will be in soon.”

“It’s Blake,” he corrected, hoping none of his irritation showed, keeping his eyes cast downward. He was a small man after all, and his boss a hulking behemoth, grossly fat—probably three or four hundred pounds—but still strong. Blake knew he would only be in trouble if his boss could catch him.

The man grinned broadly and smacked his own forehead in mock reproof. “That’s right, how could I forget, Blank—-Blake?” The grin faded. “Better get your ass in there and clean up, or…”

Blake saw a slick of blood, feces, and probably urine forming a coagulating stain around a gleaming autopsy table. The corpse was still there, but none of the coroner’s staff was present, just his boss and buddy, good ‘ole Joss “The Hoss” Hawkins. He resumed pushing his bucket toward the table.

He’s not my buddy. The bastard hates me.

“I’m going for a cigarette, boy, so when you’re finished here I want you to start on the men’s room on the first floor. Got me?”

The urge to snap a salute was strong, but he forced it down. “Sure thing, boss,” he said and dipped the mop into the hot soapy water. Hawkins brushed past him and through the door. Blake couldn’t help but stand there by the puddle for a moment, trying to collect himself. He pushed the mop into the putrid mess, smearing it over the tiled floor.

There was a violent thud, and he whirled, thinking Hawkins was up to something.

No one was there. He looked at the three tiered rows of storage drawers for decedents, each one a polished metal sliding tray and most of them containing a piece of dead meat. He was certain he had heard a noise, though, and wondered if Hawkins was playing a joke on him.

Three or four additional thuds came from several drawers. The pounding came quicker, and then there was a metallic clatter from behind him. He spun back around, tensing; the mop held before him defensively.

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Good Lord, you gave me a fright, Doctor.”

The doctor looked at him, and Blake realized he’d never seen this sort of expression on her face before: a mix of fear and puzzlement. One elegant eyebrow arched as she tilted her head toward the noise. Even now, he found himself captivated by her. Her long, lustrous chestnut hair was up in a ponytail, but the bangs had come free and framed the pale oval of her face.

“What’s going on?” she asked. When Blake shrugged, she said, “Call Tech Hawkins right now. This better not be some kind of joke.”

“Right away, ma’am,” he replied. “I’ll page him.”

Stephen Alexander North is a Florida native, a closet lounge singer, and the Obscure Floridian Writer of sci-fi, horror, thrillers, fantasy and poetry. He has a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from the University of South Florida. He served in the Army Reserve as a military policeman from 12/84 to 12/90 (reaching the rank of sergeant). At fifteen, his first job was taking care of over 200 parakeets, and 100 lovebirds in a neighbor’s garage. At sixteen, his first ‘real’ job was making camera bellows (the black accordion part on old style cameras) Some of the bellows were for NASA—Probably not any made by him though. From there, he worked in the fast-food industry (a grill god at McDonald’s), a bookstore (or Heaven, as described by the author), then three major retailers (Maas Brothers, Home Depot, then Walmart). He’s also worked, briefly, in a print shop (that ended abruptly when he nearly fell into one of the presses, which might, at the very least, have cost him an arm).

His favorite hobbies are listening to music, reading books, walking the dogs, Sancho and Oreo, and riding his bike with Kerri (his girlfriend).

He has a daughter that he’s very proud of.

You have a lot of titles out there, some poetry books and some horror genre fiction. You like to write about zombies. What has drawn you to that genre?

I will say seeing the original Dawn of the Dead movie when I was sixteen or seventeen really grabbed me in a how would I survive type sense. It wasn’t just that though, especially as time went on, and I worked in retail. There’s social commentary going on here, and the topic of consumerism and people going to the mall… Anyway, I found out, somewhere around 2005 or 2006, that a publisher was looking for these types of novels. I’d written and self-published my first book (an alien invasion/sci-fi thriller) at that point, and writing a zompocalypse novel seemed like a great challenge. Could I do it? And at that point, I’d been in retail over twenty years—I’d had plenty of experience with people from all walks of life. What if I wrote an epic zombie survival novel with a huge cast of characters! I went for it, although I had no idea how dark this book would get.

Tell us about your latest release.

I had two books release on the same day! One of them was my fifth poetry book, A View From The Edge, and the other was the re-release of my first zombie novel entitled Dead Tide. It has been with two different publishers, and this is actually the fourth edition! Currently there are four books in the series, and a possible fifth is under consideration/contemplation. The series is about a group of people, actually more than one group, trying to survive in St. Petersburg, Florida. It’s written from a moment to moment perspective, with alternating viewpoint characters by chapter. 

What is the hardest part of writing these books?

I had no idea how dark they would get. Never know what’s around a corner.

Give us an insight into one of your main characters.

There’s a police officer named James Dodd. You might not get the idea that’s something’s off about him right away, but other police officers play pranks on him, and you do find out later that he lives with his mother, but doesn’t go to check up on her when everything goes to pieces.

Is anything in your fiction books based on real life experiences or purely all imagination?

The real world, and my life experiences make it into my books, along with imagination. The question might become, where is the dividing point. Many of my stories are set in my hometown of St. Petersburg, or nearby: Pinellas Park, Tampa, or somewhere else in Florida.

What have you learned from writing your books?

Writing and reading are escape portals to somewhere else. You don’t really need to go anywhere to have the adventure of a lifetime.

Is there a message in them you want readers to grasp?

While I do address certain issues or mindsets in my stories on occasion, the primary intent is escapism or entertainment. Here’s someone in a moment so you can put aside whatever you’re struggling with in real life for now.

When did you first consider yourself a writer, or do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

Going through the wardrobe to Narnia, and finding the ring with Bilbo were probably the true catalysts! Although my first short story had its roots in the tales of Horatio Hornblower, an English sea captain in the late 1700s. It’s funny, but many things I’ve written were for a purpose, not just something I’ve dreamed about per se. I was in sixth grade (reading the Hornblower series), when my Spanish teacher asked us to write a story for class. Senor Bailes was his name (a wonderful, amazing guy). So, I wrote a story of an English sea captain trying to capture the Manila Galleon (a Spanish treasure ship). I haven’t written any stories since then in that vein, but there is one poem!

What techniques and tools do you use to keep yourself organized?

I save my works-in-progress (with a date attached) often. My work desk is usually a wreck strewn with papers, pens, headphones, books and notebooks. I think I just listed a lot of things I don’t do to be organized. lol    

What is the easiest thing about writing?

Using a computer! I started off with pencil (preferably pen) and paper, then a typewriter, word processor and finally a computer. Seeing your story on paper or on a computer screen really gives this it feels like a book vibe for me. Other than that, actually coming up with an idea of what to write about is easy most of the time.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

When I was working full-time, usually a year. Since I’ve retired it’s different, but not what I expected necessarily. I haven’t adjusted to retirement, and I’m still focused on re-acquiring my health. Aside from that, I think I wrote three poetry books last year. It’s been a long time since I actually finished writing a novel. Short stories usually a week or two, although I haven’t written many of those lately either. There’s one in an upcoming anthology (hopefully this year)!

Are there any occupational hazards to being a novelist?

Haha, I remember getting hit on by swingers at a convention in Pittsburgh (a book signing convention)! On a more serious note, yes there are. There are judgmental people out there who will decry your work without reading it. Many of them are fearful of what they don’t understand. Family members aren’t always supportive or understanding. This can be a spouse who wants you to watch tv, or ‘someone’ who thinks you’re a weirdo for writing about zombies. This can be people who won’t come to what is probably one of the biggest moments in your life (a book signing at a bookstore or landmark in your hometown). I guess the bottom line is people who don’t get your passion. This could apply to anything really, not just being a novelist. So, I get it. That’s where the friends, family and fans who do appreciate what you’re doing, really make a difference.

Writing about sex – easy or difficult?

Depends on the context? In one of my short stories, and several of my poems, I had anxiety about it. The short story was easier to ‘let go’ in that people know (I think) that it’s just a story—a seedy, gritty story, but just that. Somehow the poems were more intense in that it feels personal, whether it is or not. It’s better to let go. People will like you or like your books, or they won’t. I will say that one poem that gave me the greatest anxiety was one that people mentioned to me as being a favorite. That was cool. Writing under a pen name saves some of that grief.

What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author?

Too many characters. Chapters are too short. This is a dance of hopelessness. Those three comments were originally complaints on Dead Tide, but many people liked the work for the same reasons. More to the point, criticism from fellow writers and editors, was the toughest, but most helpful. I’ll take tough, constructive criticism any day and consider it, but “I’m giving this book one star because it’s too expensive!” is completely unfair. I’ve had that comment a few times on books of mine sold by a publisher. 

What has been the best compliment?

The love and support for my books from my friends, family and fans.

Was there a person in your career who has impacted you the most or who has really made a difference? 

The sci-fi author Keith Laumer once spent a couple hours on the phone talking with me, about books, my writing, and invited me to visit him, but more so is my girlfriend, Kerri. She’s made a huge difference in my life, and has been a tremendous help with my books.

Which writers inspire you or are your favorites, and what really strikes you about their work?

There are so many! The first two that come to mind are Keith Laumer and Robert B. Parker. They both frequently wrote from a first-person perspective, and I greatly admired their writing styles. Both injected humor, but in grim settings or situations. There was often a noirish feel to their works. Most of Laumer’s works were sci-fi, and Parker’s were detective-type mystery/thrillers or westerns. Something about their narrative voices really spoke to me.

What are the most important attributes to remaining sane as a writer?

I chuckled reading that question. Not that it isn’t a good one, but I may not be sane. My answer, though, is manage your expectations. I have known people that have great success with their writing. Six figure success. Most of us are nowhere close to that. Taking a walk, or going on a bike ride helps too.

Do you admire your own writing?

Yes! I’ve come a long way. Sometimes I’m shocked by what I’ve written. It’s a good feeling.

Have you ever hated something you wrote? 

When I first started out, I’d always end up hating it. With time, and critiques, I moved past that. 

Who would play you in a film of your life?

Rutger Hauer? Lol John Candy more likely! I haven’t always been heavy, but I am a big guy. Despite the sorrow, there’s been a lot of laughs too. I try not to take things too seriously, but sometimes I do.

What are your thoughts on good/bad reviews?

As long as it’s fair, I think I handle them well. Fair or not, it’s part of putting my work out there for sale. As to ones I’ve written, I’ve never given less than three stars. If it deserves less than that, I didn’t write one. Just me. I have told people in private or in a group what I thought was wrong, or what I didn’t like. 

Which social network works best for you?

Currently, I’m present on more than I ever have been before. Facebook is best for me so far as far as interest in my books. I’ve been tweeting for each book release, and I’m on Instagram and Threads, but on the latter two, I haven’t really experimented much. I’m not on TikTok. I do have my own channel on YouTube with fourteen subscribers and around a hundred views. I plan to record myself reading poems more often (but probably not anymore where I’m singing).

Any tips on what to do and what not to do?

I think writing for anthologies is a good idea. Give it a shot anyway. Most of them for me have been for charity. That is wonderful in itself, but when you write for an anthology, there’s usually a theme they’re looking for. This can lead you to writing something you never would have! Plus, it’s a publishing credit! I was in one charity book that included one of my favorite authors! I was in an unpaid anthology that had an introduction by another of my heroes. And I’ve been in a bunch that included friends. That matters to me. I write what makes me happy, and what challenges me. I’ve really enjoyed going to book conventions too. If you go to one as an author, sign up for the interview panels, do the book readings!

How do you relax?

I listen to music, or take walks in a park. Either of these things often lead to writing. I love to read. I haven’t done yoga in a long time, but enjoyed that too.

Who are your heroes?

My parents, David and Joyce, my brother, Ron, a teacher, Bill White, another teacher, Mike Prosynchek, two drill sergeants, SSgt Hope and SSgt Goss, a squad leader, Kurt Kobel, my best friend, David Wawrzynski, another teacher, Jane Buck Addis, a friend, Tina Kurcz, and my girlfriend, Kerri Gregory.  

What is your greatest fear?

Heights.

Your proudest achievement?

Being a father

If your friends or family members were asked to pick three character traits that describe you, what would they say?

Honest, integrity, noble

What are three positive character traits you don’t have?

Not sure how to answer that one.  

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? 

Right here at home.

What is your favorite book and why?

I loved Tolkien’s The Silmarillion. It was a world I would love to live in and explore.

What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the last year?

Death on the Nile was decent. I’ve missed a lot of movies lately.

What would you do if you won the lottery? 

Buy an SUV, a better house with a huge library (and all the books still on my TBR list), enjoy some traveling, get a personal trainer to help me get into better shape sooner, and help out some people that I care about. I’m sure I’m forgetting major things. 

What is your favorite memory from childhood? 

All the special times my family had together. It’s hard to pick one.

What is your favorite motivational phrase?

I’m beautiful inside and out.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

I’d be more apt to say something to someone I love to save their life. If I convinced my younger self to change a behavior, I wouldn’t be me now.

Do you laugh at your own jokes?

I’m often self-amused.

What makes you cry?

Onions and pictures.

What makes you laugh?

Many things, my friend.

What’s the loveliest thing you have ever seen?

My daughter’s entrance into the world.

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Join a writer’s group to get used to criticism. Read Damon Knight’s Creating Short Fiction. Read! Challenge yourself with different types of writing, or genres, or points of view.

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FOR MY FRIENDS HERE WHO ARE INTERESTED

Just a heads up for followers of this blog: As some of you know, I am working on a dark gothic horror fantasy series that includes a parallel universe. It’s new territory for me since my previous work has been poetry, a coming-of-age novel, and a recovery memoir. At the same time, what I’m embarking upon at this stage is what I’ve always wanted to do.


The content on this blog will still include posts about recovery, personal stories, passions, poetry, and struggles. I’ll continue to review books and shows, most notably in the horror genre. There will be excerpts, announcements, and updates regarding my current project. And I’m adding a new feature!


Every so often, I will spotlight a horror/fantasy author and one of their books. The feature will include a Q&A and other information about the author and book. My first spotlight will follow this post as I’m putting the finishing touches on it right now.


I hope you enjoy the future content, and if you have any suggestions on what you would like to see on my blog, please let me know in the comments.


Have a great weekend!

WELCOME TO MY TOTALLY ABSURD DREAMS

It was a recurring dream for many years.

I’m in the bleak underground, waiting for a train. There’s just enough light from the incandescent lamps to cast a dingy yellow glow. Trains pass, but they look ancient. Still, they are un-defaced by familiar graffiti. Near the passenger doors, the stops each train would make are listed on a flipping board. I don’t recognize any of these places.

Rooted to the platform, I ask strangers for directions. None of them have ever heard of this place I want to go to—never heard of Woodside, Queens.  Lost and disoriented, I feel deep distress and despair.

In my mind, I recall Manhattan’s glittering skyscrapers seen at a distance, beyond the river and the bridge. I remember my train rumbling speedily toward the heart of Queens, passing through the tunnel into sunlight. Sometimes, I’d catch the sunsets when my train emerged from the tunnels, and I was in awe of the dark navy sky and its sweeping reign over the houses with their golden-lit windows. Or the trail of light orange and the vibrant, darker orange that faded into a pale gray sky.

The strangers around me finally mention places that sound somewhere near where I want to go—still far, but I have some hope I’ll get closer. I’ll get there eventually. And I’m willing to settle for that.

Oddly, we’re outside now, still on the platform, but it’s more colorful here. I see trees and recognize the stranger beside me, but he’s barely an acquaintance. The train chugs along, but it’s too crowded when it arrives. I can’t get in, but he does. There’s simply no room for me. I don’t fit.

Suddenly, another train barrels toward me, its rapid arrival quite unexpected. I hear the beeps and clangs, and I think, “That’s the one.”

Without hesitation, I scramble on board. I never check where it’s headed. We travel farther and farther away from all that’s familiar. Soon, I am far from the place I call home and everything and everyone I had ever known. We pass an endless green sea with a boat in the distance. We are somewhere remote. I don’t recognize this place.

My dreams are vivid, yes, and colorful, and my recollection of them is thorough.

In another persistent dream I’ve had since my recovery, and until recently, I ride a motorcycle that I’m so proud to be riding. (I’ve only ever ridden on the back of one.) As the dream progresses, the motorcycle becomes a bicycle, which I did ride as a kid, and, in the dream, I’m still thrilled because I’m cruising everywhere, including up and down the dark streets of Woodside, my old stomping ground.

I’m experiencing freedom in this dream, and I’m celebrating it, so I’m happy. Except that the bike gets smaller and smaller until I’m on a tricycle that I’ve obviously outgrown.

There’s also a recurrent nightmare where I have to get home from Roosevelt Avenue—that walk home at night from the park I’d dreaded as a kid, as well as the route home after work from the train station when I lived in Woodside. It’s light at first in the dream but gets darker and darker until it’s completely dark. I’m never a kid in the dream, but, still, the dilemma frustrates me and plays out as an obsession. Whatever way I choose to go, that long, seemingly deserted hill can’t be avoided, which in reality is true unless I take the route from the crowded, brightly lit storefront area on 61st Street. Even then, I’d have to go past the place on Woodside Avenue where it’s eerily quiet at night.

More recently, I dreamt that I was stranded somewhere and ran into my parents. I asked for a ride home, and they refused for some reason that made no sense. At first, I thought, well, it’s beginning to snow now and starting to get dark, but I’ll make it. As I walked, it continued to grow darker. The snowfall became heavier, so I tried running. Creepy people tried to lure me into alleys. Somehow, though, I got past those creatures and arrived home.

My son was asleep in his room. I must’ve gone to sleep, too. In that same dream, I awoke in the dark to find the door locks broken off the door. A sign was on the front door saying, I hate you. I will destroy you. It was written in blood. People with cold, angry eyes and a few angels floated around the room. They did nothing to physically harm me, but they were holding my son captive, so I charged in there like a martial arts movie hero, kicking them all. They had an invisible shield I couldn’t penetrate, so I went to the door, opened it, and began screaming and begging for help. No one answered.

Now, I can easily interpret what that awful nightmare meant, but David said, “You should never go to sleep. Your dreams are horrifying.”

That had me splitting my sides, and he was equally amused.

Transportation is a common theme in these dreams, and I am moving by bike, train, or on foot. I think, symbolically, it has to do with where I’m going—my path or journey, my goal, and whatever happens in getting there. There’s the persistent question of whether I’m heading in the right direction, and, according to a book I’d read a about dreams, train stations represent transformation. I don’t think any of these dreams suggest I am lost, but I am consistently unable to go home, and I don’t fit or belong there.

The destination is always Woodside, although I haven’t lived there in decades and will never have to make that walk again from any street. Woodside, with its good, its bad, its horror, and its beauty, will always be special to me, and I get those bittersweet pangs of nostalgia when anyone so much as mentions my hometown of Queens. However, my fear at the time I lived there was possibly intense enough to carve out a permanent space in my subconscious mind. Or, it merely represents a place of origin because I’ve wondered if, in order to persist with your ultimate goals, you can’t go back.

The “threats” in my dreams are all of the obstacles.

Interestingly, I was about to say I hadn’t had a “train” dream in a while, but one occurred the other night. In this one, all the subway stops had their names changed. Some were crazy names like Anywhere You Want to Go, while others simply said 50th Road or some other ordinary thing. Per the usual, I had no idea where any of those stops would leave me on the way to Woodside. The platform on this station was perilously narrow, so I had to be careful, even sidestepping rocks while navigating what little room I had.

On a lighter note, I once dreamt I was a cookie, and mobs of people chased me, wanting to eat me. Amused, I told David that I’d had that dream.

“Of course, you did,” he replied, and we shared a good laugh.

Excerpt on ‘Dreams’ from Grateful to be Alive – My Road to Recovery from Addiction by D.K. Sanz

Woman sleeping/night moon feature photo by IceRedfield from Pixabay 

Train image by annca from Pixabay 

Monster in window image by 1tamara2 from Pixabay 

Train station image by Igor Ovsyannykov from Pixabay 

Gingerbread man image by artistlike from Pixabay 

BOOK REVIEW – THE KEEP by F. PAUL WILSON


Image by ELG21 from Pixabay

BOOK DESCRIPTION

“Something is murdering my men.”

Thus reads the message received from a Nazi commander stationed in a small castle high in the remote Transylvanian Alps. Invisible and silent, the enemy selects one victim per night, leaving the bloodless and mutilated corpses behind to terrify its future victims.

When an elite SS extermination squad is dispatched to solve the problem, the men find something that’s both powerful and terrifying. Panicked, the Nazis bring in a local expert on folklore–who just happens to be Jewish–to shed some light on the mysterious happenings. And unbeknownst to anyone, there is another visitor on his way–a man who awoke from a nightmare and immediately set out to meet his destiny.

The battle has begun: On one side, the ultimate evil created by man, and on the other…the unthinkable, unstoppable, unknowing terror that man has inevitably awakened.

F. Paul Wilson, Author

My Review:

*****

The Keep by F. Paul Wilson is a supernatural thriller set at the beginning of WW II. The story is rich in history and has many elements I love—Gothic horror, immortal creatures, Romania, a creepy fortress, revenge on nazis, and a worthy nemesis in Rasalom. The book is brilliantly atmospheric.

Wilson’s descriptions are lovely. It’s a fast-paced tale with a great twist, never dull, and it has characters I loved, which is always a plus. In my opinion, it’s a fun but not a terribly scary read, but, then again, I don’t scare easily.

The best part is, I’ve found a new favorite writer in F. Paul Wison and feel as if I should have known about him long ago!

⭐
⭐
⭐
⭐
⭐

REVIEW – The House on Blackstone Moor (The Blackstone Vampires Book 1)


This book was initially reviewed in May, 2012, but I am recommending it again to horror fans.

Before The House on Blackstone Moor, we experienced the wicked, self-involved albeit charming vampire and his polar opposite the long-suffering, brooding wimp with a conscience. Carole Gill’s Louis Darton is neither. Instead, he is the perfect balance between the twoa Byronic hero with substance. He endures, as the author writes, no matter what. He does so with great courage, inner strength, and compassion. Now that’s seductive!

As a fan of 19th century British literature and all things gothic, I found, in The House of The Blackstone Moor, all the elements I enjoy in a novel and all the features of a classic. The moods of great works such as Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, even Dickens (a la Oliver Twist and David Copperfield) surface throughout. Carole Gill presents excellent narration, well-drawn characters, and has a sharp ear for dialogue.

While hopelessly invested in Rose Baines and her beloved Louis Darton’s fate, I read this entire book in two days. No sooner had I put it down when an irresistible lure seemed to beckon my return. 😉 I’d have finished it in one sitting if I didn’t need to be elsewhere.

Between Darton and Satan’s cohort “Eco,” there is the additional element of the proverbial dark side with a twist. It brings to mind Anne Rice’s poetic Memnoch The Devil inspired by the Book of Enoch and Milton’s epic poem, Paradise Lost. This genre has been met and embraced in the past with great interest and sheer fascination. Carole Gill continues in that vein. She pulls it off quite skillfully with wonderfully bold and descriptive passages.

Carole Gill

About Carole Gill

Carole Gill is published by Creativia. She writes dark Gothic romance as well as contemporary horror.

Preditors & Editors’ Readers’ POLL
#2 BEST HORROR NOVEL 2016
I, BATHORY, QUEEN OF BLOOD

BEST INDIE BOOK FINALIST
2016
CIRCUS OF HORRORS

Her acclaimed 4-novel series, The Blackstone Vampires:
2014 – Amazon Bestseller in Dark Fantasy – THE BLACKSTONE VAMPIRES OMNIBUS
2015 – Amazon Bestseller in Vampire Horror – THE BLACKSTONE VAMPIRES OMNIBUS
2015 – Amazon Bestseller in Horror Anthologies – HOUSE OF HORRORS

AWARDS:
eBook Festival of Words 2014
Best Horror: The House on Blackstone Moor and
Best Villain: Eco

Top 10 Books – 2013 – The House on Blackstone Moor
Aoife Marie Sheridan – ALL THINGS FANTASY
Publisher, Ultimate Fantasy Books

92 Horror authors you need to read right now,
Carole Gill – The Blackstone Vampires Series. ~Charlotte Books Examiner,

Justine: Into The Blood Book One – Blood and Passion Series is on sale at Amazon.
Book 2, Anat: Blood Princess, follows.

I, Bathory, Queen of Blood, a novel about the Blood Countess Erzsebat Bathory is her latest book.
For dark horror fans there is, Carole Gill’s House of Horrors and the novel, Circus of Horrors.

In 2000 she was selected by Northwest Playwrights of England for further development. Short stories and novels were what she preferred to write.
Her story, The Devil’s Work is being broadcast web and television in the Fragments of Fear Program in 2016.

Blog:
http://carolegillauthor.blogspot.co.uk/

facebook author page:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Carole-Gill-Author/120405794703293?ref=ts

She is widely published in horror and sci-fi anthologies:

Fragments of Fear tv and You Tube, ‘The Devil’s Work
Killing it Softly, Digital Fiction Publishing Corp.
Sideshow, published by PsychoPomp
After Armeagedon short story collection by Brian L. Porter (guest story by Carole Gill)
Rogues Gallery, The Illustrated Police News, Firbolg
Enter at Your Own Risk: Dark Muses Spoken Silences Firbolg
Vampires: Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Tales
A S Publications: Enter at Your Own Risk: Old Masters New Voices, An Anthology of Gothic Literature,
Fresh Fear: Contemporary Horror
Triskaideka Books’ Masters of Horror Anthology One,
Triskaideka Books’ Masters of Horror Damned If You Don’t,
Sonar 4 Publishing’s Ladies and Gentlemen of Horror 2010,
SNM’s Bonded By Blood3 Languish In Lament,
Sonar 4 Publishing’s Whitechapel 13, Anthology,
Rymfire’s Undead Tales,
Rymfire’s Zombie Winter,
Rymfire’s Zombie Writing
Angelic Knight Press’ Satan’s Toy Box: Demonic Dolls and
Whitechapel 13, An Anthology of the Victorian Era
Sci Fi Almanac 2009 and 2010 and
Science Fiction Freedom Magazine, issues 1-4,
Sci Fi Talk’s Tales of Time and Space.Read less


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