Showing posts with label WEP Halloween Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WEP Halloween Challenge. Show all posts

Saturday, October 14, 2023

DAY "14" OF THE HAUNTING

 

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

You're Invited

Yes, welcome, friend

to your end

You accepted my invite

so robust and hearty

just my type

just what evil likes

an unsuspecting guest

the perfect quest

dance and be happy

isn't the music snappy

enjoy your last night

drink or get high

alcohol dims your fight

makes the capture

a demon's delight!

MUAHAHAHAHA!

***

Yolanda Renée © 2023

 

JOIN US ON OCTOBER 18 – 20

FOR ALL YOUR

WEP

HALLOWEEN FUN


Monday, September 21, 2020

Sweet Revenge - A Halloween Challenge


It's Time!


A   Blue Moon  on
Halloween
What could be better?

 October 31, 2020, at 12:49 AM.

Are you ready?
To help inspire you, 
Here is the last installment of 
Blood Moon.
It's title

Sweet Revenge

Enjoy!

If you missed the first three excerpts just click the link:
Romance & Death
Hunted
Masked





Sweet Revenge

         It took me several years to learn the secret of the mountain. Each anniversary of my death, I would get to relive the horror of that night. It took a while, but I learned that if I quit fighting the forest, I could separate myself from the event. 
          The next time Kyle brought his fun to the mountain on a Halloween, I was ready. 
           Do you see him? His bones are bleaching in the sun. He came back to me, and revenge was ever so sweet.
         The young girl he brought with him was led safely to the main road by the forest. Help came for her in the form of a couple returning home from a Halloween party. She is safe and now sharing her tale of horror with the authorities. Soon they'll be searching the woods for Kyle and his victims. They'll find most of them, and they'll find me, but Kyle is here to stay. He's mine—a plaything to help me while away the years.
           I tortured, killed, and thoroughly relished his screams. I told you revenge is sweet, and the music of it even sweeter!
         The forest, my new friend, cooperated fully. The brambles stripped him of his clothes, and using their sharp thorns, they ripped the skin from his body. His howls were a melody like no other. All the animals joined in, and I danced to the macabre tune.
         Tree roots pulled his limbs from his body, slowly, but deliberately. His shrieks were a crescendo that I still hear echoing in the loneliest hours of the night.
         Rocks and boulders covered him. Using their weight, they crushed the life out of him, slowly. His last breath was like a caress, sweet, warmorgasmic. Heavenly.
         Before he died, I plucked his eye out and stuffed it down his throat. I left him one eye, so he could watch me dance on his grave. I did to him all that he did to me and more. The pain he experienced, the terror he felt, is like having life returned. The memory of it I relive each night. I dance in the moonlight and relish the peace of the wind in the trees. 
          My treesmy mountainmy home!
         Beware, dear friend, for if you visit my new abode with evil in mind, we'll be waiting. The forest and I have honed our skills.

The end 
or is it?


Are you ready for the challenge now?

Read the other installments of Blood Moon here

Romance & Death

Hunted

Masked

Sweet Revenge

Have I enticed you?
Is your writing muse tingling?
Then join the WEP in October for
the Halloween Challenge!


A Grave Mistake, you ask?
Well, what in the hell is that?
Well, dear friend
It’s the next WEP task.
And believe me
there’s many away
Where errors take sway
Where ghosts and ghoulies will play
and many unorthodox ideas
 rue the day.
So, get out your pens and pads.
We’ve given you
A dare for your best scare
Because Halloween is for all
And who knows?
You may take
first prize for your Grave Mistake!

Monday, September 14, 2020

Masked - A Halloween Challenge


It's Time!


A beautiful  Blue Moon  on
Halloween!
 October 31, 2020, at 12:49 AM.

Are you ready?

To help inspire you, 
Here is the third installment of Blood Moon.
It's title

Masked 

Enjoy!

If you missed the first two excerpts just click the link:
Romance & Death
Hunted


Photo by Luke Southern on Unsplash


Masked 

The monster that took me wore his mask well. His deep blue eyes sparkled when he laughed. His smile was captivating and felt sincere. The dimple on his right cheek was so endearing; I even saw it on the child I imagined we'd someday have. And his physiqueswoon-worthy. When he held me in his arms, I felt safe. I trusted his strength to protect me, and I imagined our lovemaking would be indescribable.
          Remember, we'd only dated a few times. Tonight was going to be the night. It was already planned, but that was before I knew I'd be fighting the devil for my life.
          And I did fight. A lot of good it did me. He won. In the end, don't they always. After all, a successful serial killer plans his task well. His victimshe never has a chance.
          But I tried, and I did leave my mark. You can still see it today, but I'm sure all the girls tell him his jagged scar just makes him look more rugged. His blood and skin under my nails would never do me any good though because I never told a soul about Kyle. I never told anyone where we were going. No one even knew I was missing until a week had passed. It wasn't until months later that a tourist found my camera near the road and gave it to the police. My prize-winning picture of the Blood Moon was identified as mine because of the selfie I took. It was my last photograph and the one my parents value most. Even now, I kick myself for not taking it with Kyle, but he was camera shy. Of course he was—the bastard!
          It was a full two years later that a hunter discovered my skull and a few gnawed bones. Dental records finally identified me.
          Kyle is still at it, and if he comes back to his cabin in the woods, I'll be waiting. I'll be ready because now I've won the forest to my side and his time has come.


To be continued…


Join me next week when

I’ll publish the final installment of 
Blood Moon
Titled

Sweet Revenge

Have I enticed you?
Is your writing muse tingling?
Then join the WEP in October for
the Halloween Challenge!


A Grave Mistake, you ask?
Well, what in the hell is that?
Well, dear friend
It’s the next WEP task.
And believe me
there’s many away
Where errors take sway
Where ghosts and ghoulies will play
and many unorthodox ideas
 rue the day.
So, get out your pens and pads.
We’ve given you
A dare for your best scare
Because Halloween is for all
And who knows?
You may take
first prize for your Grave Mistake!

Monday, October 8, 2018

A GHOSTLY POINT OF VIEW





I’m broken

I didn’t think I could be

not even through years when love was withheld

I persevered

I survived.



I’m broken

I didn’t think I could be

not  through physical abuse and death threats

I overcame

I survived.

  

I’m broken

I didn’t think I could be

not even through your lies and betrayal

I forgave and looked forward

I survived.

 

I’m broken

I didn’t think I could be

but my will is non-existent

my heart unrepairable

I may not survive.

 

I’m broken

I didn’t think I could be

I pray for light

in the darkness

that has become my soul.



I'm broken

I didn't think I could be

I looked inward for answers

and found that the monster

was me.

Yolanda Renee © 2018
***


You have no excuse now!
Sign up today!




Wednesday, November 1, 2017

IWSG - NANO






 Question: Win or not, do you usually finish your NaNo project? Have any of them gone on to be published?

Yes, and no. I’ve finished several times and almost finished others but the works have all gone on to be published in one way or another. I’ve always considered the work successful, but I’ve yet to go direct from NaNo to publication. My first, second, and usually even the third drafts are extremely ROUGH. 😊

The awesome co-hosts are Tonja Drecker, Diane Burton, MJ Fifield, and Rebecca Douglass! Be sure to stop by and wish them well!



tHE WINNER'S OF THE


HAVE BEEN ANNOUNCED!


VISIT THE WINNERS

AND READ

SOME AMAZING STORIES



Wednesday, October 4, 2017

IWSG - PHONES



Question: Have you ever slipped any of your personal information into your characters, either by accident or on purpose?

Sarah, one of the main characters in my murder trilogy, hates telephones. I hate phones. It took me years to get a cell phone, but I am now free from the landline.

Although I have the least technical of the models. I’ll upgrade one day soon, maybe. 

Yes, this is the phone on my wall. It's now art!


My experiences, the characteristics of family, friends, and strangers all make up the characters of my stories. A little fact, a lot of fiction, and loads of research make the story!










*****

It's that time of the year.
Dark Places
Sign-up NOW!





Thursday, October 1, 2015

A WITCHES WRATH

Welcome to October & Halloween!
I'm thrilled to announce that for the month I have 

a selection of authors who've agreed to a

Halloween Interview / Flash Fiction Challenge.



Starting October 2nd. The authors participating are, Thom Futrell, Christine Rains, Julia Press Simmons, Shannon Lawrence, Cathrina Constantine, DeAnna Knippling, Tara Tyler, Walter P. HonsingerAnn M. Noser. and Nancy Lynn Jarvis.
With special guest judge Editor, Wendy Ely!
Wait til you read these horror stories!

Today I thought I'd start the month off with a witches tale using a prompt from the

Brought to you by Priceless Joy!
Flash Fiction of 100 to 150 words based on the photo
provided by and copyright to The Storyteller's Abode.
Don't forget to add your story to the InLinkz Link-up via the
(Blue Froggy button).

© The Storyteller's Abode

A WITCHES WRATH

Mirabella's anger grew and the clouds darkened, swirling winds caused the waves to surge and roil. Lightening ripped the sky open, and thunder shattered eardrums. Mirabella watched the ships struggling to port.

Waves overwhelmed most, but the yacht Abandon still floated. How apropos, she thought, abandon me to sail into your new life with my sister. "Not today," she roared!

Finally, the Abandon disappeared under a monstrous wave, Mirabella smiled. Vengeance is so sweet, she thought.

Nevertheless, the winds grew. A Hurricane formed. The gates to hell opened and Mirabella knew the indisputable power of wrath and her sister Isabella.

100 words
Yolanda Renée © 20015

*****

*****



Wednesday, September 30, 2015

THE SECRET LETTERS

Visiting today is Abby Bardi, author of 
The Secret Letters
She's gracing us with a guest post about agented vs unagented submissions
Take it away Abby.

Unagented Submissions 
The Secret Letters

I had been sitting on my novel The Secret Letters for some time, pondering what the heck to do with it, when my friend Gary, who is also a writer, gave me a suggestion. In the little space for messages in one of our ongoing Facebook Scrabble games, he wrote, “Why don’t you try sending to HarperCollins Australia? They take unagented submissions on Wednesdays.” It was now Tuesday.

The next day, I sent a partial to HCA through a form on their website. Several days later, they asked for more. Several days after that, they said they wanted to publish my novel. Easy, right?

Well, not exactly. This particular overnight success was fifteen years in the making. I had started the novel in the summer of 2000, just as my first novel The Book of Fred was enmeshed in the lengthy process of being published in hardcover by an imprint of Simon & Schuster. My then-agent wasn’t happy with my first draft of The Secret Letters, so I rewrote it completely, but it still wasn’t quite right.

Somewhere along the line, 9/11 happened, and it seemed no one was interested in a heartwarming family story. The Book of Fred’s pub date was actually on 9/11, and all the books at the time were on the Taliban. I put my heartwarming family story away. Every so often, I pulled it out again and worked on it, and I think I sent one version to some agents about ten years ago. But the story was still too “small.”

I kept working on it, picking it up when I wasn’t working on some other heartwarming family story that was too small, and finally this past June or so, HarperCollins Australia gave me the thumbs up. Six weeks later, it was an ebook! 

Of course, this is a far different publishing climate than with The Book of Fred. I got a nice advance for that, and the publisher assigned a publicist who did mysterious things like “co-oping.” I was able to do some book signings, back when there were bookstores, and I even did a little tour.

With The Secret Letters, I had a really wonderful editor who left in midstream and then another really wonderful editor (the same thing happened with my first book). HCA also assigned a fantastic copy editor. There was no advance, just a percentage of sales: 25% up to 10,000 books sold and then 50%. The publisher sets the price, which started out at $2.99 and is currently 99 cents! If it had been left up to me, I’d have charged more, but hey, they know more about this than I do.


So maybe the unagented digital route is not the most lucrative way to go, but what matters to me with this book is that now people can read it and that my characters, who I grew to love as if they were real people, can find their way out of my computer and into people’s hearts, where they can warm them.
*****

Thank you, Abby, for sharing your journey. 
Well folks what do you think?
Agented publication, unagented publication, or as some are finding even more lucrative self-publishing?

Now introducing - The Secret Letters


When thirty-seven-year-old slacker-chef Julie Barlow's mother dies, her older sister Pam finds a cache of old letters from someone who appears to be their mother's former lover. The date stamped on the letters combined with a difficult relationship with her father leads Julie to conclude that the letters' author was a Native American man named J. Fallingwater who must have been her real father.

Inspired by her new identity, Julie uses her small inheritance to make her dream come true: she opens a restaurant called Falling Water that is an immediate success, and life seems to be looking up. Her sister Norma is pressuring everyone to sell their mother's house, and her brother Ricky is a loveable drunk who has yet to learn responsibility, but the family seems to be turning a corner.

Then tragedy strikes, and Julie and her siblings have to stick together more than ever before. With all the secrets and setbacks, will Julie lose everything she has worked so hard for? 

Excerpt:


The casket was a double-wide, with painted flowers on the side like a circus wagon. Pam said it looked like hippies had scrawled on it with crayons while tripping.

“She’s at peace now,” one of our idiot cousins said to someone I half-recognized from when my mother used to drag us to West Virginia, where she was born. “Just a bunch of goddamn hillbillies in the Mountain State,” she always said, like she was Martha Stewart.

“Shut up,” Pam muttered in the cousin’s general direction, smiling like she was saying something nice. I hoped she planned to provide snark during the funeral, since I didn’t know how I would make it through otherwise. My other sister Norma was in the front pew sobbing. We were keeping our distance from her, not because of anything in particular, but because we always stayed out of her way if we could. It didn’t pay to try to comfort her, since anything you said would be the wrong thing.

The casket was closed, thank God. Our mother had left strict instructions about this and everything else when she was still conscious. Even while dying, she was a control freak, and amazingly vain for someone who weighed just shy of 400 pounds, even with terminal cancer. “You’re beautiful,” we always said to her in a Hollywood voice, “don’t ever change.” She knew we were just messing with her, but she always smiled and patted her hair.

“That’s a hell of a casket,” I said.

“Sure is purty.” Pam’s eyes were red. I hadn’t looked in a mirror since early morning when I’d slathered on eye makeup, but I’d been crying all day, too, and probably looked like a slutty raccoon. “Is Timmy here yet?”

“Haven’t seen him. It’s so crowded.” I scanned the room.

“Did any of these weirdos actually know her?”

“I don’t know. I bet those fat guys were football players at her high school.” I wiped my eyes, though I knew it was a bad idea, smear-wise.

“Oh, there he is.” Pam pointed to the back of the room and I spotted our older brother. He was wearing a dark suit that made him look like a Mafia don, talking to some blond guy. She tried waving, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were on the casket. He hadn’t seen our mother in almost a year, and I was sure it was hard for him to believe she was gone. Tough shit for him, I thought. He could have come here when it would have made a difference. Now it didn’t matter to anyone what he did.

“Is The Asshole coming?” I asked, referring to our father.

“No, he says he has a schedule conflict.”

“Probably golf. You’d think he could at least manage to show up for this.”

“At least he’s clean and sober.”

“So he says. He’s probably still banging down Zombies at strip clubs.”

“Try not to be bitter, Julie. It’s unattractive.”

“Bitter? You think I’m bitter?”

As the minister cut in and began to read the eulogy my mother had probably written for him, my mind started wandering like I was in grade school waiting for the bell to ring. I tried to concentrate, but I couldn’t. Every so often I’d tune back in and hear things that weren’t true. Her devotion to other people. Her service to the community. Her wonderful family life—I could just about hear her voice coming out of the guy’s mouth. I didn’t know where she found him, since she never went to church. I figured he was an actor she hired to play a minister, and made a mental note to mention this to Pam.

As he droned on in his phony actor voice, I closed my eyes and imagined walking through the woods on the hill behind our house. Most of it was gone now, bulldozed to make room for the townhouse development just over the ridge. I made a path through the old trees, and the dogs ran in circles around me. Ahead of me was the pond, though in real life it wasn’t there any more either, except for the hints that sometimes bubbled up in people’s driveways. I was going to dangle my bare feet in the water. I could hide there all day, and no one would know where I was. Then I would run back through the trees to our house, with the dogs behind me, and my mother would be there, and Frank, and Donny.

When I opened my eyes the minister was gone, and some cousin who hadn’t seen my mother in years was reading from a wrinkled piece of paper. She was stumbling over the words, maybe because it was Mom’s loopy handwriting, or maybe she couldn’t read. It was Mom’s life story minus all the bad parts and made going to high school in East Baltimore, meeting The Asshole, and having five children with him sound like an E! True Hollywood Story. Norma was born six months after the wedding, and it didn’t take a mathematician to figure out the facts, but the cousin glossed over that, and the ugly divorce, and finished with the happy ending, my mother finding true love with Frank and then having little Ricky. Ricky, on my left, burst into loud sobs. I put my arm around him and he cried onto my shoulder. I could smell he’d been drinking again. I would have pulled him onto my lap like I used to, but he was a big boy now. When I looked at him with his tattoos, dreadlocks, and piercings, I still saw that cute little blond guy and felt how much we had loved him. We still loved him that much, but it was complicated.

Pam leaned across me and held his hand. “You’ll be fine, sweetie,” she whispered to him, though we were pretty sure he wouldn’t.

*******


Abby Bardi is the author of THE BOOK OF FRED and THE SECRET LETTERS. She grew up in Chicago, went to college in California, then spent a decade teaching English in Japan and England. She currently teaches at a college in Maryland and lives in historic Ellicott City with her husband and dog.

*****

CONGRATULATIONS ABBY!
Do you have an opinion on agents / non-agents, we'd love to hear it!

*****



HAPPY HALLOWEEN!