Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Re-Inventing Myself and My Writing!

Sorry for the wait but it'll be worth it. Life changes us sometimes and if that's so, profound loss certainly does!

I wrote 8 books in 5 years. But that was before I lost everything, dogs, house and worst of all, the best friend and husband I could ever have.

There will be books already written and published on offer, lots to read while you wait. Just expect the unexpected from me! Magic and fantasy, adventure and yarns a plenty, fiction to thrill and entertain. Characters to love and hold in your hearts forever. It's all coming.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

An Ode to Trolls

Not an 'ode', more like an odious homage! 

It was ugly and it stank. It had green skin and scales. That’s what it really looked like unless it morphed into its disguise. It had a number of different ways it could look, each of them human- looking and pleasant. The stench also magically vanished when it altered its appearance.

It liked to leave product reviews. Any product, it didn’t matter. Books, films, washing machines, cures for hemorrhoid preparations, boils, fecal vomiting and the like.

It suffered from a number of such complaints and had done ever since childhood. Now it was a fully grown troll.

It hadn’t yet had sex with a female troll or any other kind of girl monster. It had summoned up enough courage to ask a human chick out on a date but it had its disguise on. Still, it was refused.

“Get lost, creep!”

Oh that hurt! Trolls have feelings, too you know!

Hurrying back to the sewer it called home, it felt inspired. It felt powerful, sexy—masterful. It knew it was imbued with the stink wisdom that trolls learn as children.

Oh! Sure! There is the Bastard Troll Book of Wisdom. And child trolls study it as do some adult ones.

Compensate for feelings of inadequacy! Go forth and give negative one or two-word reviews on products! Get into it!

Still, it came to pass that the Great Troll of the North began to spot opportunities where all the stinky, untalented trolls could make themselves known. Spout! Spout! And be heard!

And lo and behold they became as one. One voice, one desire, one troll!

Trolls are everywhere! They are because the world has need of their negativity, their stupidity and their rottenness and if you find one, befriend it. Just try and stand downwind from it.

Ask and the trolls shall answer!

For wherever there is ignorance, spite, malice, jealousy, vindictiveness, there you will find he, that is the embodiment of all negative crap.

To be continued! And if not, it won’t be!

Sunday, September 17, 2017

A Fun Post! Disney and Us!

Just thought of this post! I commented to a friend on Facebook about Goofy and thought of this.
Disney's cartoon characters are really based on human nature--our short comings and so forth!

Goofy is how we feel sometimes. Who hasn't felt like that in a social situation at some time in their life? A party perhaps where you feel out of place? Out on a date and perhaps feel outclassed?

Donald Duck is us wanting a raise and being afraid to ask for it. He's a frustrated version of the average person who got shoved out of line, got shoddy goods they won't take back or refund or maybe he's the guy who got dumped and is frustrated because, say, Daisy moved away and left no forwarding address!

Mickey is the teacher's favorite. Mickey is how our parents wanted us to be. In my childhood I felt I alternated between Donald and Goofy. Mickey was to be admired. Somehow he was more perfect than I thought I was.

If you have a dog, you know Pluto inside and out. Pluto is everybody's dog! He just is.

When I get a rejection with regard to a submission, I've been Donald Duck, when I come to terms with it, I'm Mickey Mouse and when I get a bad review I'm Goofy! 

So there you go! I think Disney was brilliant. He had genuine beings in those characters. Funny cartoon characters that people could identify with! Truly! 


Countess Erzsebet Bathory was a sexual sadist and mass murderer in 16th Century Hungary. She was vicious. She is said to have killed upwards of 200 serving girls. Unfortunately she believed, despite being well-educated, that blood was the elixir to youth. This novel of mine asks the question, what if she became immortal and lived on!

Salons were quite the thing and vampire salons were even more popular! More recollections now of vampires behaving badly or behaving as vampires!

"Time passed easily for us. We had a home and friends. It was a comfortable feeling. We attended parties and soirees. Jacques invited us to his biggest event of the year, just before All Soul’s Day—a kind of vampiric Halloween for us. Things did get out of hand, which was not something completely unexpected. But, it was not as wild as it could have been.

We didn’t change partners. Although Jacques asked to watch us while we fed and copulated. I have to admit it was exciting, feeding in our sensual way. And when he came over and began to fondle me as I fed, I was pleased that you didn’t stop him. I did think, rightly as it proved, that you’d give him privileges. He was such a good friend to us both now and he’d advanced so much money we were able to enjoy a rich undead existence.

Of course, things always turn out differently than one thinks, for soon, we had him in our bed on a regular basis. The bad thing happened, though I wouldn’t have guessed, when he began to bring that young singer, Pauline, around. That’s when I feared I would fall back to my monstrous ways. You see, I felt jealous of her—of her beauty and her creamy skin. I was jealous even watching Jacques feed. And when you asked if you might join in and I agreed, I wanted to destroy you! I thought you’d guess, but you didn’t.

I did manage to keep myself under control until, one night, Pauline annoyed me. I had watched her brush her long hair and the look on both your and Jacques’ faces made me furious. As strong as you both are, neither of you could pull me off as I drained her. She was gone in moments, her skin white as human death and as cold as stone. And even in that state, there was a beauty to her, so perfect were her features.

You tore at my hair and beat me. This was the first time you raised your hand to me. You called me a beast and I laughed, although I agreed. Our fighting went on for what seemed like ages. All this while Jacques wailed for his human. He’d had real feelings for her, so he raised her right there. I was shocked; for some stupid reason, I didn’t think he would. After she was turned, she was different for now, she’d become a voracious vampire. “I am glad you did this for I have wished it for a long time,” she said. I ran from the room, down the halls. The fact that you didn’t rush after me bothered me. That was why I grabbed the first vampire I saw. That young boy called Marco..."

"5 out of 5 stars HORRIFIC VAMPS & GREAT STORY!!!

I'm hooked on Carole Gill!! I prefer more details about a Vampires life, knowing they're Satan's creatures, and love that this author portrays them as they are!!! Intense read and that there's real history in a her novels, makes it even more interesting!! If you're offended by language, sex, bondage, and savagery, look to the Chic lit on the paranormal!!! Carole Gill is phenomenal!!!!"

Friday, August 25, 2017

Book Update: Fantasy about cats!

Sasha at 8 weeks. 

My work in progress is really coming along. My publisher has been advised and is enthused. It's a departure from dark horror but of course those 8 books that are horror are out there and will remain on sale.

A little background first on the new work, the first in a series.

Sasha, my Maine Coon kitten came into my life shortly after my husband died. I was in quite a state. Both of our dogs had to be re-homed as I could no longer walk them. This kitten had a big job ahead of her. I was happy to just play with her and watch her. She offered a great deal more, though. I found such comfort and love from her and became so aware of a bond between us.

Now, Sasha at 18 months, is far from tiny! She is big and beautiful. She's mischievous, playful and clownish sometimes. Just what I need. Always at my side. A kind of furry leprechaun. Turn around and she's there and so is her love.

I have learned so much about cats, that I was hugely inspired to write about them. There was no way I could ignore the need to do this!

This fantasy I'm working on is about kittens and cats and other animals too but it's Sasha that is featured. She's the chief protagonist, a funny gutsy, clever girl--exactly what she's like!

The story is about other things too. Some of it's funny and some of it's poignant, like life, really!

I'll be giving periodic updates, I promise. Meanwhile, here's a short excerpt:

Sasha was a pensive and thoughtful cat, she pondered deeply about things, like her past. If she thought about it, and she did occasionally, she recalled a ship.

She was newborn when she was carried away from her dead mother and siblings. Where there had been comfort and food, there was now something awful and deadly and cold.

Kindness saved her. Even before her eyes opened, she knew this. When she was able to open her eyes, she saw her first human face. It belonged to the steward of a cargo ship, the man who had found the squealing, newborn kitten among her family. He had cried because he was an emotional man. 


Friday, August 11, 2017

RANT!!! Twitter Direct Messages Makes Me ANGRY Sometimes!

Hey! Haven't done one of these in a long time! I got wound up enough today, to do a good rant!
DO YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE!!! I hate, despise, detest and get crazy from direct messages on Twitter after just politely following someone BACK!

BACK, BACK, BACK. They followed me, I follow them back, especially if they're an author.

Today, I saw a children's book that looked cute, so I followed the author back and IMMEDIATELY got a direct message with links to buy, asking me, 'not to forget to leave a review.'

Now, the 'book' is actually not a full length book. How does someone assume I have the time or inclination to read AND review a children's 'book' ?

Let me just say this is not an isolated case. I've had hundreds of these messages with links as the very first message.

I don't believe in marketing books that way. You can make contacts through messages, but don't throw your product, whatever it is, at someone in a first message.


No? Well I do but it is ignored because they don't care. They are solely concerned with flogging their books, stories, products at you. It has all the refinement of a pushcart or market stall pitch.


Back of the truck opens up and the bacon, hamburger or whatever the seller is hawking that day at an outdoor market, is revealed. It's fine in a market if that's where you want to buy your food, but the same principle applied to books and the like, I find pretty crass.

We're all different. This happens to be my opinion. Sharing links, liking a page, that's fine! Even though I prefer NOT to be messaged on twitter, I would happily share if I see a message. The thing is I get so many--I often don't notice or see them.

That's why I don't like direct messages on Twitter. It's purely for the reason that I don't often have time to read all of them!

That's my rant for today! Thanks!  

Friday, August 4, 2017

Goody Jones and the Platitudes! Free flash fiction

Here we go! The first of the Toxic Fairy Tales! 


England, 1610

Goody Jones was one card short of a deck. In an age that didn’t look fondly upon people who were different, poor old Goody stood out. And that was before she started with the platitudes.
If she was barely tolerated previously, when she began giving out little pieces of paper with writing on them, she was singled out for abuse.

At first the angry backlash consisted of just annoyed mutterings from fellow townsfolk but then it escalated.

Poor Goody never noticed. The sad thing was all she wanted was to help folk.

She got it into her head to try and help as many of her neighbors as she could. She saw many things wrong in her little village of Sicknee, just outside of Filey in North Yorkshire. And because, though, as off the wall as she was, she thought she could help people, she began writing out those ‘clever sayings’ she heard about. You know the ones, about horrific events making you stronger. As in what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger!

Yeah those! Annoying buggers of advice thought of by people who are put on this earth to drive most of the population mad.

Sadly, Goody had a head start. As she thought the people would benefit from what she saw as wisdom. 

When the butcher lost his wife and his business, she handed him one of her notes. It said: Good things come to those who wait.

The butcher fell into a rage and ran after her screaming. Venting. Venting didn’t help but he was arrested and fined for disturbing the peace. That got him angrier. Goody saw that and wrote out another one of her clever sayings. This was: forgive and forget.

She handed it to him herself right through the prison bars. Actually, he let it fall to the floor. But then curiosity, though not killing him or the cat, got the better of him and he read it. When the silliness of the advice sank in, he screamed. He was lashed for screaming while in custody.

When he threatened to kill Goody Jones by filleting her, she left another sayings for him. It said: God had a plan for him.

Butcher Mills died right on the spot, while the little scribbled paper, blew away.

It came to rest at the feet of a guard who picked it up. He liked the advice and went home to tell his wife who was sitting outside their burnt-out cottage. Their humble abode was no more. The guard thought the advice might help his wife but she attacked him, hissing like a cat.

Their children began screaming because they never saw their father’s face bleed like that.

Gradually, the inhabitants of the village became more hostile to the old woman and decided to murder the stupid old bitch.

A lynch mob was formed and poor old Goody Jones was dragged from her little hovel.
She pleaded for her life but was told her time was up and when it’s up it’s up.

They hanged the old girl with a sign meticulously painted by a sign maker for free. They put the sign around her dead neck.

It read:


© carole gill 2017