I'm SO Sorry, Readers!!

My apologies to the lovely readers. I had a bit of a personal crisis arise that has had me distraught and withdrawn for a couple of weeks now, and I'm just now starting to get back in to the groove of things. But I wanted to let you all know I still love you, I am still going to be blogging, I just have a mountain of crap to sort through and deal with in real life, so my posts may not be every day or even more than one or two a week until this mountain becomes a speedbump. I really appreciate all the patience and continued support, and I promise once thing ease up, I'll host a giveaway or something equally epic! Cross my heart.

My Apologies to My Amazing Readers and Followers...

Hey, all. I'm really sorry to do this, but I have to postpone Tuesday's Terrors until tomorrow. Today cannot be described without the word "cluster" in it, nor can it be described with anything that might remotely resemble something positive. The last 14 hours have been Hell, and anything I write in this state would be horrific, and not in a good way.

So for the sake of quality and what little sanity I have left, I regrettably have to push back the next episode of Fractured to Wednesday. Please forgive the Eeyore-like tone today. I still love my readers and will find a way to come back tomorrow with much more gusto and happy thoughts and fairy dust and glitter.

Thanks for understanding.

~Ash

In Honor of 9/11, A Free Book and A Donation With Purchase

With the anniversary of the September 11th attacks coming up, I wanted to do something different to honor the victims and those left to mourn them. This year, I'm making Confessions from an Unstable Mind free from 9/9 through 9/11, but that's not all. The profits from the purchase of either Daughters of Night books will be donated to Tuesday's Children, an organization that works to provide much needed aid and services to the children affected by the attacks, as well as their families. 

To claim your FREE copy of Confessions from an Unstable Mind, click HERE (US) or HERE (UK)

To purchase Daughters of Night: Sanctuary (the first in the series) click HERE (US) or HERE (UK)

To purchase Daughters of Night: Possession (the 2nd in the series) click HERE (US or HERE (UK)

To read more about Tuesday's Children and what they do, or to make a donation directly to the charity, please visit their website at www.tuesdayschildren.org

WE WILL NEVER FORGET

Interview With a Vampire...DON Style!

Sorry fans of Louis and Lestat, this is a different kind of vampire. (Although I'm a sucker for those guys too-especially watching them portrayed by Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise [before the psycho crazy came out] and drooling over them too!) But today...we're doing things Daughters of Night style!!


[You should still read to the bottom of this post...trust me!]





I decided to take another selfish day and do a character interview with one of the characters from the Daughters of Night series. It took some creative manipulation, but I managed to catch up with Gaviyn Hartford, Carmen's mate and husband, and co-leader of Sanctuary. I have to admit, it was hard to interview him without drool pooling up at his feet-this guy REALLY knows how to work his charm!


Even though I could go on and on about how undeniably yummy he is, let's move on to the interview.

DSP: Hi Gaviyn, thanks for, um...I mean, I just...whew, is it hot in here or is it just me?

Gaviyn: It's just you.

DSP: (GULP) Well, thanks for talking with me, I um...

Gaviyn: Yes?

DSP: Oh, um, so, you're a vampire, right?

Gaviyn: Yes, I haven't been human since the twelfth century.

DSP: Oh my, that's a long time! Er, not saying that you're old or anything, but, um, well, that's just impressive.

Gaviyn: It seems like a long time because it really is. Time has a way of passing quickly when you're the closest thing to immortal as a being can be.

DSP: I see. Well, so tell us how it all happened?

Gaviyn: You mean how I became a vampire?

DSP: (nods dumbly, trying not to be too obvious that I'm staring and constantly swallowing the buildup of saliva)

Gaviyn: Very well. The woman I loved had been taken from me-murdered while I stood helplessly watching. She was cursed for an eternity of lifetimes, and the pain was unbearable. I begged to any deity who would hear me to grant me the strength to avenge her. It was the Goddess Hecate who answered my call, and She made me what I am; a Son of Night created in Her image. 

DSP: Wow. This girl must have been really special.

Gaviyn: Indeed she is.

DSP: Wait...IS? I thought she was murdered?

Gaviyn: Correct. She was murdered. I sought out my revenge, and she was reborn. Over and over again, in more lifetimes than I care to recall, and in each lifetime, her time was cut short before we could be together. At first it appeared to be caused by some unseen force, but then after a...slight altercation with the incarnation of evil, her lives were stolen away even sooner by their hands. In fact, one could say the cause of the altercation was due to yet another untimely demise of my love.

DSP: (Staring in total idiotic silence)

Gaviyn: It was a very long, dark part of my life. But those days are over now. My Caroline was reborn as Carmen, and she is back at my side where she belongs.

DSP: That's got to be one of the most tragically romantic stories ever told.

Gaviyn: (laughing) Tragic at times, yes, though I'm not sure how romantic a story it is.

DSP: Oh, it's romantic, and I'm completely jealous right now!

Gaviyn: Ah, that's nonsense. A stunning woman like yourself is certain to have more suitors and romance than the world can handle.

DSP: (Giggling like a schoolgirl) You're a charmer, Mr. Hartford.

Gaviyn: (A hypnotic, lazy grin on his face) I speak only the truth.

DSP: Well...thank you. Um, so, what's new at Sanctuary?

Gaviyn: There's always something new at Sanctuary. Most recently it's been the hustle and bustle of the upcoming shift of power as a new High Priestess is named.

DSP: OH! What's going on with Carmen and you?

Gaviyn: (Smiling mischievously) Let's just say we have other obligations to tend to. 

DSP: Come on, not even a hint?

Gaviyn: Ah, well...Carmen has been...promoted.

DSP: How exactly does a vampire witch High Priestess get promoted?

Gaviyn: For that, you'll have to just wait and see in Tribulation.

DSP: Damn! Well, I really appreciate you stopping by for an interview today. This is really awesome.

Gaviyn: Anything for you, m'lady.

DSP: (Giggling and blushing several shades of red) You're too kind. Good luck with the upcoming power shift.

Gaviyn: Thank you. 

DSP: (whispering) I love you...

Gaviyn: I'm sorry, did you say something?

DSP: Oh, no, I was just reminding myself to pick up milk on my way home. Bye!! *runs away embarrassed*

Okay, so I wasn't exactly the smoothest when it came to hiding my infatuation, but give me credit, I at least had the guts to track him down and talk to him!


Hope you enjoyed this awesome interview with Gaviyn Hartford from the Daughters of Night series. If you have any questions for Gaviyn, post them in the comments and we'll ask him when we see him again!

**For those of you who were hoping to see something about Interview with THE Vampire, rest assured a pretty epic post is coming up in the next week about these sexy vamps!!**

Lestat: Did you hear that? She called us sexy.
Louis: Yes, she did. Should we be honored, or frightened?
Lestat: I'm leaning toward frightened...

Author Interview - Amanda Holden

Hi there! I just got out of a very important business meeting with the Penguin, and guess what he shared with me? We get to interview another wonderful (and quickly rising) author today! Very exciting stuff, and it's something a little different for the greatest readers EVER. Let's meet this rising star, Amanda Holden!

But first, the book...

Azyea (Oz-zay-yah) is determined to create a Mother's Day gift for her mom. When she attempts to create something spectacular, everything turns into a big mess. Disappointed that her gifts were not good enough, Azyea finds out what her mom really thinks about her not so perfect gifts.

This book is geared toward children ages 3 and up.

And now...the interview!!

DSP: For starters, tell us a bit about you, we like to get to know our authors as a person!  

Amanda: Greetings! Thank you for hosting me! My name is Amanda Holden and I hail from the island of Guam. Yes, a tiny island located in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Guam is where I was born and raised and when I got married in 2009, I moved to a small town of Columbus, TX. 

I am very much into art, music, and writing. I like to draw and paint when ever I am inspired. I like to play guitar and sing. I make YouTube videos of my music and dabble in home recording on my computer. Lastly, I write children’s books and I simply love reading them too! 

I am a firm believer in Jesus. My favorite color is red. I love sushi and I am a filthy junk food addict. I have tried to cut back, but the temptation is too evil to quit. My favorite T.V. show is Downton Abbey and I can’t wait for the next season to come!

DSP: Nice to meet you! So tell us, where did you find the inspiration for your most recent book? 

Amanda: I actually self-published my book in May 2013 for Mother’s Day. It is called Azyea’s Gifts which I wrote and illustrated. I was inspired to write the story because I wanted to show others what my mom means to me and to show the love of a mother. Another reason was to finish what I started as an aspiring author. I wanted to prove to myself that I can reach my dreams with hard work. Since then, I am very confident that I can accomplish more than a published book. I am very excited to see what happens with my upcoming stories.

DSP: So, do you have any kind of ritual for writing? Such as, you have to write with music on, or you can only write when you’re completely alone, etc

Amanda: I am one who requires silence when I write. Music is too much of a distraction than it is a motivator.

DSP: Now, when you sit down to write a book, a paragraph, or whatever you‘re working on at the moment, do you just sit down in front of the computer, or do you need an outline of some sort? Is there any other prep you need in order to organize your thoughts either before you write or in the process of writing? 

Amanda: First of all, my house has to be cleaned before I can even begin writing. I do not use an outline, I just start writing and work on the details later. The main goal is to get the ideas down on paper. 

DSP: Other than this most recent story, do you have any ideas for different books that might be published in the future? Care to give us a teaser? 

Amanda: I have several, but the book that will be coming out soon is called, Captain Sam Sails Across the Sky. It is to be published through Tiger Dynasty Publishing and the illustrations are underway. Here is a teaser!

 

“Can you tell me another pirate story?” Sam asked. “Okay Sam, but this story is unlike any other story. Instead of pirates sailing the seven open seas; tonight I will tell you about pirates who sailed the open skies who were on their way to a place called Cloud One Hundred.” His dad said. “But first, I have something for you.”

Another title that I foresee being published in the future is the Prodigal Princess.

 

DSP: What has been the biggest high since becoming a published author?

Amanda: Knowing that my book is out for the world to see. I am more confident and I love helping others who are trying to reach their dreams.

DSP: What is your greatest fear about being an author? 

Amanda: My fear would be how I present myself to the world.  Now, that I am an author , I feel like I am not as well rounded in the writing industry, but I am trying to gain more knowledge to where I can stand confident. If I was ever to be questioned on the spot, I want to answer promptly and coherently without hesitation.

And now, for something completely different…some slightly off-the-wall and possibly irrelevant questions just for fun!

DSP: What is your favorite song?

Amanda: I Dreamed a Dream

DSP: What’s your favorite candy? Ice cream?

Amanda: My favorite candy would be sour pouch. My favorite ice cream would be mint chocolate chip.

DSP: Imagine you’re the sole survivor of a plane crash at sea, and you awake stranded on a deserted and uncharted island in the Bermuda Triangle. Nobody knows you’re there, and you have nothing but the clothes on your back. You’re all alone, and there’s terrifying sounds coming from deep within the jungle. Late that night as you’re starving, a large suitcase washes up on the shore. You open it up. What’s in the suitcase?

Amanda: A gun. A blow up raft. A sandwich. That should take care of my stranded situation, the beast in the jungle, and my hunger. I am sorry, was I suppose to choose one thing? 

Haha, you answered perfectly! I love seeing the varying answers to that last one, it's always so fun finding out what each person would prefer to help them survive. 

Here's a little about Amanda and her books!

Amanda R. Holden (Punzalan) (1989) was born on the island of Guam to Frank Punzalan and Mary Lujan and is the youngest of six. She now resides in Columbus, Texas with her husband Ethan Holden.

Amanda started writing at a young age and is now the author and illustrator of her first children's picture book, Azyea's Gifts.

She currently works a full time job as a dental receptionist and helps out from time to time at her local church. In her spare time, she also provides guitar lessons for children and adults while she continues to work at her craft as a writer. 

She is quite dedicated to reaching goals that seem far beyond her reach and is always willing to help other authors in need of support and advise regarding their projects.

Amanda is also musically inclined and loves to sing and play guitar. Karaoke won't get her too far, but she hopes to use her music abilities for something big. 

"Follow your dreams, because your dreams won't follow you..." -Amanda Holden

Stalk Amanda-er, I mean, stay up-to-date with all things Amanda here:

Website: www.amandarholden.webs.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/amandaroseholden

Twitter: www.twitter.com/amandarh22

Such a great interview, and many thanks to Amanda. Make sure you keep up-to-date with all of Amanda's works and snag your own copy of her book. Be on the lookout for not only this upcoming book, Captain Sam Sails Across the Sky, but for the plethora of great books that are sure to follow! Congrats to you on recently joining with Tiger Dynasty Publishing, we can't wait to see you rise to phenomenal heights in your upcoming successes.

Thanks again, Amanda, and best of luck!!

Throwback Thursday - Good God Was I Really That YOUNG?!

So, for today's Throwback Thursday, I decided to selfishly make the post about me, despite the Penguin's protests. Going back over pictures from HIGH SCHOOL (mind you, I have been out of school for over 12 years now), I found a couple that I simply had to share. One will be obvious why, the other I'll explain.

Here's to...

Now, for the throwback pics. Are you ready?

Okay, in this first one, it should be completely obvious why I had to post it. I mean...wtf is THAT?? I have no clue, and I was there! Hehe, oh, Chemistry class, how I do (not) miss you!!

Okay, same class, same day, but here's why I had to post this one. In high school, I was always made to believe (and I REALLY believed it) that I was enormously fat and worthless. I smiled a lot, but I had the lowest self-esteem and self-worth of anyone I know.

I'm posting this picture because I was NOT enormously fat. My real friends were right, I wasn't some hideous monstrosity too fat to be loved. Sure, I had extra weight and a little roll on my belly, but I wasn't as repulsive as I thought I was. Now...if only I could get back to that size, lol! Sadly, though, this is what high school does to young girls. If they're not a negative dress size, they're grossly fat and therefore are not real people. They spend their lives thinking they're gross and never really believing that they are, indeed, beautiful. I see now that I was beautiful, and still am, and I regret allowing myself to feel so poorly about my appearance. But I'm proud now to display pictures from when I was younger as well as current pictures, because ALL young girls, ALL teenagers, and ALL women are beautiful, and deserve to be respected and treated as valuable as they truly are.

Okay, that's enough of the lesson and preaching and whatnot! Happy Throwback Thursday!! :)

Book Blitz: When Fangirls Lie (How (Not) To Be Seduced By Rock Stars #1)

Hey there, you're back! Yay!! That's awesome, because we get to participate in a way cool book blitz today, and I think you're going to want to enter the giveaway. So let's get started!

Now introducing...

The Book

When Fangirls Lie (How (Not) to Be Seduced by Rock Stars #1)
Publication Date: May 9th, 2013
Genre: New Adult, Contemporary



19-year-old Saffi March is not the perfect girl everyone thinks she is. When the pressure of pretending becomes too much, she escapes for a weekend and transforms herself into another persona - a hardcore groupie for the rockstar also known as Sweden's #1 Sex God, Staffan Aehrenthal.

One look at the beautiful girl hopelessly trying to hide her naïve virginal innocence behind skimpy dresses and garish makeup and Staffan immediately knows the groupie called "H" is hiding a secret. He also knows he needs her desperately. He's determined to make her his, the only girl who's able to soothe the demons in him.

But before Staffan can let Saffi into his life, those stars in her eyes have to go - and he'll do everything for that to happen, even if it means cruelly hurting Saffi until she realizes that he would never trust anyone with his heart again.



Excerpt from When Fangirls Lie:


        There was nothing as beautiful as seeing Staffan Aehrenthal dance. It was sheer poetry in motion, and he never failed to seduce his faithful audience with every little move he made. There were just no words to describe the heart-thumping excitement he evoked from his fans no matter how fast or slow he danced. And when he started to sing, oh God, how it made Saffi’s body tremble with desire!
Staffan’s eyes suddenly locked with hers.
She gasped.
She knew she must be imagining it. She must be. He couldn’t be---
The line of bouncers suddenly split into two from the center, just in time to let Staffan jump down from the stage. And then he was walking towards Saffi, his eyes never leaving hers.
Saffi’s gasp came out strangled, and it became harder and harder to breathe as Staffan came closer, a six-foot-five silver-haired man whose face was literally the last thing she saw before she slept and the first thing she saw when she woke up. He was the subject of her laptop, tablet, and phone’s screensaver, the pin-up in her high school locker, and she even had a limited edition collectible photo in her wallet.
Before she knew it, Staffan was already standing right in front of her, too gorgeous to be true but too close not to be real.
God, he was tall. God, he was sexy. And oh! Galloping groupers! Those hazel eyes. Surely she had to be mistaken. Surely those eyes didn’t say---
Staffan Aehrenthal held his hand out.
She took it without even a moment’s hesitation.
As he pulled her close, the screams all around them became louder. But even so, she heard Staffan very well as he whispered into her ear, “I’m going to fuck you now.”
And the next thing she knew, he was leading her up the stage.
Staffan Aehrenthal taking a girl from the crowd and dancing with her on stage was nothing unusual. He did it in every single one of his concerts. She had been aware of that, and she had envied all the girls who had the privilege of dancing with him. But what she didn’t know was that dancing with Staffan meant something entirely unexpected.
Staffan held her close, singing, not saying a word to her even if it was his backup vocals’ turn to sing. But with every chance he got, his hands would graze her breasts, pinching her nipples to life. Every time he would twirl her around, his hands would be brushing against her most private part, the one that had started to throb just because he was near.
Saffi was on fire, in heat, and out of her mind with desire. She was utterly mesmerized, and all she could do was follow Staffan’s lead as he continued to arouse her in front of thousands of people.
A part of her was completely shocked. He was seducing her…not just in public but on stage. At a concert that thousands of mobile phones were presently recording, a concert that could be televised---
She should be running away from him now, but she couldn’t. All Saffi could do was look and feel Staffan Aehrenthal touch her. All she could think was him. Staffan.Staffan.Staffan.
The look on Saffi March’s face almost made Staffan lose his concentration. Dammit. She looked so fucking sweet, so ripe for fucking, that only his sense of professionalism, honed razor sharp by the years he had worked in the music business, kept him from losing control and taking her then and there.
He had always done this. Always. But only Saffi threatened his control.

Make sure to visit the buy links to get your own copy of When Fangirls Lie:

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=WHEN%20FANGIRLS%20marian

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/when-fangirls-lie-marian-tee/1116560249?ean=9781492152149

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17907047-when-fangirls-lie

How about an interview with the steamy hot rock star Staffan? *Wiggles eyebrows*

The Interview

For today’s interview we’re welcoming Staffan Aehrenthal. Most of you know him for his numerous Billboard #1 hits – more likely, you also know him as Sweden’s #1 Sex God. So without further ado, here’s Staffan, who’s promised to answer the questions every fangirl is keen to ask.

Q: Is it true you’re dating one of your fans?

A: No. I wish I was because I’m quite terribly in love with her, but no. She’s only using me for my body.

(Readers, we heard a girl groan in the background at this, but we’re not sure)

Q: What’s your usual move to impress a girl?

A: I have sex with her. 

(Staffan gives us a wicked grin, plus a look at under his lashes, my oh my. We totally fanned ourselves with this one, ladies.)

Q: Where do you see yourself ten years from now? Do you think you’ll still be touring and playing music by then?

A: Most likely not – I need to take over the family business once my stepfather retires. Considering the size of my stepfather’s business and the fact that he employs thousands of employees around the world, I can’t in all conscience risk letting them down and have them lose their jobs – which is what could happen if I still decide to juggle my music career with managing the company.

Q: What’s your ideal girl like?

A: Someone who is so crazy about me she can’t breathe without even thinking my name, but at the same time she should also be level-headed enough to keep me on my toes and make sure my feet stays on the ground. I want her to be obsessed with me completely because that’s how I love a girl – obsessively, like there’s no tomorrow for us to share another kiss.

Now, we’ll give you several words then say the first thing that comes to your mind.

Dream. Babies

Success. Sex

Beauty. Love

Dislike. Dishonesty

Sex. Anywhere

(Phew! That’s the end of the interview!)

Sounds like Staffan is one sexy Adonis with the libido of a jackrabbit-my kind of guy! Hehe, let's meet the genius behind the fangirl and rock star god, the lovely Marian Tee!!

The Author

Hi! I’m Marian Tee – I write sexy funny romances, emphasis on the funny because most readers tell me my books are a public hazard, often causing them to laugh out loud and get funny looks from other people.
I’m from the Philippines, half Filipino and half Chinese with a love for all things Japanese! Yes, that rhymed.  I love dancing, travelling, watching horror movies and basketball, and reading Archie comics.

Of course I love reading books, too. In fact, if I’m a little too slow in releasing a new book, it’s probably because I’m too busy being a reader and forgot all about being a writer.  Yes, I know, MY BAD!

I am a frustrated MANGAKA, hence why I write novels like Drawn and why I have a Vampire Knight fan fic posted at FanFiction.net (just search for Morteia Chronicles).

Check out her stalker links below!

Website: http://www.mariantee.com/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6579926.Marian_Tee

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormariantee

Twitter: https://twitter.com/marian_writes

The Giveaway

How would you feel about receiving a shiny new Kindle Fire? Or, for our international readers outside the US, a $150 Amazon gift card (so you could actually just buy your own or a crap ton of books)? Well, the author is generous enough to offer you the chance to win just that! Enter the Rafflecopter now for your chance to win big!!

This giveaway is hosted and managed by author Marian Tee, and winners will be chosen and awarded by author.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

You can also snag your copy of the second book in the series, When Fangirls Cry, at Amazon and Barnes & Noble to continue the fangirl journey!

Big thanks to both author Marian Tee and to Xpresso Book Tours for letting the Penguin be a part of this big event! We wish you nothing but success, Marian!

Tuesday's Terrors - Fractured: Episode 3

Okay, I know it's late, but give me credit, I'm at least getting it up this week...lol! Here is today's Tuesday's Terrors. Enjoy this installment of Fractured!!



Fractured

Episode 3

Dahlia’s fingers slowly curled around the handle of the bone saw and ever so carefully lifted it from its resting place in the metal chest. The tool felt as heavy as an award winning watermelon at the state fair in Dahlia’s hand, but she held it firmly. There was a layer of rust coating the metal teeth of the blade. She ran her forefinger lightly down the blade, and a thin line of bright scarlet popped up immediately, along with a sharp tearing that caused her to grit her teeth. It was sharp, there was no doubt there.

“It feels right, doesn’t it?”

Dahlia jumped, the familiar voice coming from the silence around her startling her, and she dropped the bone saw back into the chest.

“Who’s there?” Dahlia demanded, her words garbled thanks to the broken jaw.

She knew the voice couldn’t possibly belong to her when she hadn’t even been thinking those words, let alone speaking them. There was no answer immediately. Frustrated and afraid, Dahlia grabbed up the bone saw in her right hand and gripped it tightly before standing and looking around her, cautiously. If anyone had found their way inside the attic, she wanted a way to defend herself. She inched around a stack of boxes and peeked toward the attic door. It was still closed and locked. There was no one up there with her. Dahlia’s hand relaxed just a fraction, and she turned to walk back to the chest.

“Giving up so easily?”

Spinning around and raising the bone saw high and ready to strike, Dahlia suppressed a battle cry as she sliced the bone saw through the air. There was no resistance; there was no one there.

“Who are you? Where are you? What is this?”

Dahlia called out to the voice, partly out of curiosity and frustration, but mostly out of fear.

“You can’t see me, stupid girl,” the voice-HER voice-said, mockingly.

“Who are you?” she asked again.

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” the voice said cryptically. “I don’t think you’re ready to hear it, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

Dahlia tightened her grip on the bone saw and stomped back to the chest. Reaching in with her free hand, she grabbed a metal tool that resembled an ice pick-perfect for stabbing.

“Those tools won’t work on me, you know. You’re just wasting your time.”

“Tell me who you are!” Dahlia demanded, nearly screaming.

Her yelling was answered with several jabs at the attic floor as her uncle or his wife no doubt began banging the broom handle against their ceiling. Dahlia just ignored it, focusing on the voice.

“You are so insistent,” the voice said. “Very well, then. But remember, I warned you.”

Swallowing back the bile that was rising from her nerves, she nodded, despite the absence of a physical body to witness the gesture.

“To put it simply, I’m you. I’m that part of you that’s ready to fight back and stop letting those two sadistic fucks ruin you. You see me every day, but you’ve never seen the real me, nor will you ever see it. There are many of us here, I’m just the strongest. You may call me Vengeance.”

Dahlia’s chin dropped to the floor as the breath left her body. She felt like she’d been punched in the gut with a metal fist by Superman. Her knees wobbled and gave out and she fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, the bone saw falling from her hand.

“Y-you’re…me? Like, I’m sharing my body with a-a ghost?”

“No! That’s the most ignorant thing I’ve ever heard! Ghosts…such nonsense!”

“I’m losing my mind,” Dahlia said softly to herself, pulling her knees up to her chest and pressing her palms to the temples on either side of her head.

“I tried to warn you, but you’re too damn curious.”

“How many of you are there? I mean…well, what are you anyway?”

“I told you. I am Vengeance, and I’m a part of you. We’re all parts of you. There’s Fear, Innocence, Despair, Hope-every emotion and every reaction you’ve ever had are here. Most of us you keep repressed, but sometimes we come and steal you away when the assholes downstairs rain the most nightmarish hell on you. We save you, we comfort you, we strengthen you, and you do everything in your power to push us back and keep us out.”

“No. No, this can’t be happening. This is all some kind of fucked up nightmare.”

“Well, it’s fucked up, I’ll agree with that…”

“You’re not REAL!” Dahlia screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping the sides of her head, trying to push the voice away.

She sat that way for several seconds before she slowly peeled her eyes open. Carefully, she pulled her hands away from her head, listening for the voice, her eyes darting all around the room.

“Hello?” she called.

There was no answer.

“Vengeance? Are you there?”

Still no answer. With a brief smile, Dahlia sighed and flopped backwards, lying flat on her back with her arms spread to either side. The voice was gone, but the memory was there to stay.

Dahlia was afraid. She wasn’t really sure what the voice was or what it wanted from her, or even how to protect herself if it came back. How can one protect themselves from an unseen enemy? At least with Uncle Dennis and Edna, she could see them and fight against them.

She picked the bone saw up and placed it back in the chest. Before she closed it, she ran her eyes across the various utensils and instruments with a mixture of fascination and hatred. Closing the lid, she went back to her pallet by the window and sat staring out at the dark night sky until sleep claimed her.

The bright morning sunlight streaming in through the window woke Dahlia, and she blinked against the harsh glare. Every part of her body was aching, and her girly bits still felt as though they’d been run through a meat grinder. Her uncle had clearly not been very gentle the previous evening, though thankfully, she couldn’t remember any of the heinous act.

Standing and walking to the door in the floor, she pressed her ear to the wood and listened, barely breathing for fear of making too much noise. She heard nothing. Moving quickly she unlatched the door and pulled it open. She released the latch for the door, dropping the ladder to the second story of the house with a soft thud. She waited, listening for any sounds of life, before making her way down the ladder and to the second door on the left past the stairs.

Once inside her designated room in the house, she changed into more suitable clothes. What Dahlia really wanted was a shower, but until she knew the house was empty, she couldn’t risk it.

Dressed in a pair of tattered jeans and an old, oversized sweater, she tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Peering out the back door, she saw both her uncle’s truck and Edna’s car were gone. She was alone.

Racing back upstairs to the bathroom, Dahlia stripped naked and turned the water on almost hot enough to scald her skin before stepping into the shower. She washed the dried, caked blood off her body, watching the swirling water turn pink as it trickled down the drain. Examining her injuries, she found the gash in her hand from the ladder was barely more than a scratch and an annoyance. Her jaw, however, was a mangled mess. She needed a doctor, of that she was certain, but if she even tried to go to the doctor, the hell Uncle Dennis would bring down on her would make last night’s trauma seem like a stubbed toe in comparison. Without a doctor to put the bones back in place, Dahlia worried about what would happen with her poor jaw.

When she examined the rest of her body, she found at least one broken rib with a huge shoe-shaped bruise, and a deep puncture wound in her back. Her thighs were varying shades of purple, blue, pink, red, even a little gray and green from older bruises that were fading. The same was true for her lower abdomen and hips. The worst damage, however, was her girly bits. He’d ripped her open, and she was still bleeding lightly. The pain was immense, and sharp stabs of what felt like electricity shot all the way up into her abdomen sporadically. She’d been through worse, especially in the beginning when he stole her innocence away and she bled for days, writhing in agony in her bed. He was a monster.

Dahlia stood under the steaming hot water, hoping it would wash away some of the mental anguish and scars of her broken life. It was rare that she had the opportunity for more than a two minute shower while often fighting off her ever-lustful uncle. It was a miserable shower, used only to get the grime off her body and out of her hair, and even those brief moments of cleanliness were once a week at best. She’d once gone an entire month without a shower in the summer and developed a nasty infection from it.

A half hour went by and the water grew colder, finally to the point of being borderline uncomfortable. She turned off the water, wrapped a towel around her body, and grabbed her clothes before slinking out to her bedroom. Dahlia knew Edna would scream at her and possibly beat her for wasting water and using up all the hot water, but she didn’t care. It was the best she’d felt in what seemed like ages.

Back in the security of her bedroom, Dahlia dressed quickly, and grabbed a large duffel bag she’d swiped from the attic ages ago. She stuffed an armload of clothes and what few pictures she had of her life before her parents died into the bag, and with it slung over her shoulder, she quietly tiptoed out of her room and down the hall. At the top of the stairs, she hesitated. She’d tried this maneuver so many times in the past, and it always ended one of three ways. Either someone was actually home and she didn’t realize it, there was some booby trap or series of booby traps set to incapacitate her, or the house would be barred up so she couldn’t get out. Whenever they both had to be gone, they always locked the house up so it was a prison, but the worst was the horrible traps they’d set up for her. Once, she’d almost lost her left leg, and once she took a blow to the head so intense it left her unconscious for over a week.

After weighing the options, she took her chances, searching every corner and cranny for signs of whatever traps they’d set up for her. Calling for help wasn’t an option, the only phone in the house was kept under lock and key. The nearest neighbor was miles away, so no one ever heard her screams.

Walking carefully, each footstep testing the durability and safety of the floor before putting her weight on it, she made her way downstairs. The front door was locked, of course, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. One peek through the curtain told her the bars were securely in place; even if she got the door open, the screen door was held in place by a row of steel bars which acted like a cage surrounding the door.

“Damn it!”

With the possibility of traps eliminated, she rushed through the house, checking every window and door on the first floor before heading upstairs. Every door and every window was locked, even the window in her bedroom.

Defeated, Dahlia gathered up the remainder of her meager belongings and hauled them up to the attic in two trips. Once her entire life was scattered on the attic floor, she hurried back downstairs to the kitchen. If she couldn’t leave, she was going to make damn sure her uncle and his wife knew she wasn’t playing their game anymore.

Locating the two large pitchers Edna used for tea and lemonade, she quickly filled them both with water and hauled them to the attic, then returned, bringing a large bucket she’d found in the attic. She filled it full of ice, then filled the gaps with water and hauled it upstairs. In the kitchen for a third trip, she grabbed a large trash bag and started filling it with foods. Lunch meat, bread, canned corn, butter, jelly, oatmeal, half a gallon of milk, oranges, peaches, cans of tuna and chicken, celery, a head of lettuce, hot dogs, chips-anything she could get her hands on that wasn’t frozen or needed to be heated. She stuffed the bag full, and snatched up some utensils, then dragged the bag to the bottom of the stairs.

In the kitchen one last time, she put the stopper in the sink and turned the water on full blast and opened every cabinet door, yanking everything out and throwing it across the room. Broken glass littered the floor, along with every pot and pan in the kitchen. She unplugged the refrigerator and snipped off the end of the cord. With a metal ladle, she busted out every window in the kitchen and dining room before using every ounce of strength in her tiny body to overturn the table.

The adrenaline was surging through Dahlia’s body, and she was nearly euphoric causing such a disaster. Grabbing a butcher’s knife, she rushed to the living room and sliced open the couch cushions. She plugged up the drain in the half bath, turned the water on, and returned to the foot of the stairs by her garbage bag of goodies, admiring her work as the water overflowed from both sinks onto the floor.

Then she heard a car door. Panic flooded her, and she hoisted the heavy bag over her shoulder, trudging up the stairs much slower than she’d hoped. The adrenaline rush was leaving her body exhausted, and the fear was nearly paralyzing. At the top of the stairs, she heard the sound of the door opening.

“What the FUCK?” Dennis screamed.

“Oh my God! What did that evil little bitch do?” Enda squawked.

Dahlia rushed to pull down the ladder, hearing her uncle make his way through the mess, pausing in the living room to swear and curse her yet again. It gave her the time she needed to get the ladder in place and start climbing. Dennis bounded up the stairs two at a time, and Dahlia had barely gotten the bag in the opening of the attic door when she heard his growl as he charged at her.

Moving with a speed she had never even known she possessed, she hauled herself inside the attic door, and as she swung her legs up, she felt thick fingers wrap around her right ankle and yank down hard. Startled, she lost her balance and fell sideways into the opening, her leg twisting at an unnatural angle behind her. She slammed into Dennis, and the two of them fell sprawling to the floor.

Dahlia’s leg was injured badly. She tried to pull herself up, but pain shot from her hip all the way down to her toes. Tears streamed from her eyes as she watched Dennis stand up and gaze down at her, rage evident on his face yet again, the bandaged nose only making him look more fierce.

“You…are dead.”

Dahlia closed her eyes, and felt herself slip away from her own body into a world of comforting darkness.

Keep following Dahlia's story-it's just now starting to get good! Tune in next Tuesday for Episode 4!!

Sneak Peek at What's Coming Soon

Okay, so I have been bad. Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad. And not in a good way. I haven't posted in, like, over a week, and you're probably wondering why. Well, that makes two of us, lol! I won't make excuses, I've just been neglectful again. But I have several cool things coming in the next couple of weeks, so don't leave me yet!!

So, Tuesday's Terrors is NOT over. I just missed a week. So tomorrow, expect the newest installment of Fractured, and find out what happens to Dahlia next.




Wednesday, we get to play host to a cool blitz put together by Xpresso Book Tours. But I won't give away all the details here-if you're curious what book and what author, you'll just have to come back and see me Wednesday!!






Thursday is back to Throwback Thursday. I haven't decided yet what's going up, so I can't even tease you yet. But you better believe I'm gonna make it awesome to make up for my negligence last week!





Friday (tentatively) I have an author interview for you, and it's gonna be fabulicious, so make sure you come find out who we're hosting as well as what they have to say. (You never know what an author is gonna say!)

Of course, next week we'll have another Tuesday's Terrors and Throwback Thursday, provided no zombie apocalypse distracts me (the Louisville Zombie Attack was last Thursday. I sadly didn't get to go due to a last minute setback, but next year I'm getting infected, damn it!!). And to spice up the week, we're going to have another author interview next week, just not sure on the exact day.






Wait, I'm not done yet! I'm putting together a release day blitz for a fellow author and in October, you'll get to see the fruit of my hard labor come to life. Well...not really come to life, because that would just be weird, but you get what I mean, right? Good.


So as you can see, I'm not just ignoring you, I have been scheduling things, and I'm working on getting some more interviews penned in. Not to mention writing and being a desperately exhausted housewife. I'm busy busy busy, and you get to reap the benefits! So come back and see us and check out our awesome upcoming posts!!