Friday, July 28, 2017

New Group! For Readers and Writers of Dark Paranormal Romantic Fiction

First let me say that I think horror should be DARK, DEADLY AND DANGEROUS. If it isn't, why call it horror?

That brings me to the reasons for this post. I created a new group on Facebook. I did this because I felt the need to have such a group with a tight focus. I have two other groups on Facebook for horror fiction which have a wider focus.

As a woman who writes horror, I often feel difficulty in getting the word out with regard to offers and announcements. Sometimes women act like some demon out of Revelations has started consuming souls and it's time to call in the exorcist. Granted, my fiction isn't for everyone, I'll admit that--but I bat for the good guys. That means the forces of darkness don't win. Although I write contemporary horror which might be darkly humorous, my novels are dark. The vampires in them are demonic and you won't find and vegans.

My latest release is about a mass murderer with absolute powers. I didn't water anything down because it would have been morally wrong in my estimation.

I always say horror is a broad genre and there's room for light, dark--sexy and not. Readers, take your pick. If you know that you like dark stuff, in other words when reading a Gothic romance, do you want it to have more serious dark elements or not? If your answer is that you'd like your villains to be sexy and very dangerous, then you like the dark.


the other groups for horror are more generally based or focused. Those groups are:




Thursday, July 27, 2017


I am so pleased I'm able to read again. I could read after my darling John died, but it was difficult to be focused, as in quite an ordeal, but then again, coping wasn't easy either. Well! When I started my new work in progress, that all changed. I write every day and am making headway.

It's not horror, it's fantasy and full of fun and humour. It's just what I want to do now. But as I'm very loyal to my publisher, Creativia--I promote my horror books but I also do it for readers that like my horror.

My Amazon Author Page is a great source to see what's out there in the way of horror. There are seven novels and a collection of short stories plus a number of anthologies I am published in.

But wait, I rambled! I'm reading things I never read before. Books like Watership Down, Alice in Wonderand, The Fox and the Hounds (not the Disney Cartoon)! Also dipping into the classics again. I'm seeing the stories now through the eyes of a reader with more experience of life than I had in my youth. I'm able to appreciate them more, too--from having lived and suffered. One book that I'll never forget is Zola's Therese Raquin, if you haven't read it, read it! It's visceral. It will surgically cut into your innards with its emotion and darkness. Zola knew people, that is, human nature better than most authors I've read.

I was involved in writing horror for so long that I often forgot about all the other genres, although I would occasionally dive into everything from romance to adventure. But now, after having suffered profound grief, I decided it was time to read whatever came into my head.

There's a great collection of Steinbeck's short novels which led to East of Eden and Grapes of Wrath. I'm glad I can adjust the kindle font. One of the fab reasons for having a kindle when you're getting on!

This past winter I read a lot of Roald Dahl. I read him before, but they just made more of an impression now. JK Rowling, I was reading when the books first came out, but it's time for a re-read.

Lately, I've been thinking of how the stories became so real to me, how the characters mean so much to me--it's almost like company whenever I want. It gave me the idea for another project actually!

Reading is vital, we know that as writers. I knew it, too but I didn't realize to what extent the stories and characters could invade my soul and bring purpose back into my life. And that is great.

Love this quote:


Saturday, June 17, 2017

The Nightmare Begins in Book One!

The nightmare began long ago in Rose's childhood. The sin that started then eventually brought her to Blackstone House and the vampires...

"It all started shortly before I fell asleep. I heard the sound of carriages and people chattering and I went to the window to see. It was hard to see much as the carriages were probably near the front door.

I could have waited to see them as they rode down the drive to head back from whence they came, but truly I was far too tired to bother and went back to bed.

I fell asleep then and didn’t wake until I heard shouts and raucous laughter. 

I will admit to being nosey, for I returned to the window. A light shone upon the moors, bright enough for me to see figures emerge from the shadows. I saw the figure of a naked girl rush out giggling…with a man in pursuit. At first I thought they were going to kiss but then he moved toward her neck—and she cried out, not in pain but in pleasure. He then laid her down upon the ground, kneeling too but not in an intimate way—for he was bent over her neck.

Not more than a moment later a swarm of hooded figures appeared, but they were not walking! They flew like a flock of birds, gracefully, gliding up and down, before landing upon the girl. They covered her completely—moving back and forth upon her like a great black wave.

If that was fearful I wasn’t prepared for the next sight, that of a cloaked figure leading a goat onto the moors.

A circle formed around the goat and chanting began, chanting that grew wilder. And then all of a sudden, the goat turned into a man! I could not see his face, but I did see he was unclothed.

Mrs. Darton appeared then. She seemed to glance up toward the house. I knew she couldn’t see me; besides, she looked past my window toward Louis’ window.

They all began to move then in the direction of the altar stone the children had shown me.

It grew quiet after that but then I heard a blood curdling scream and I saw someone rush out, pursued by two others. It looked like a young girl, but she was caught and pulled back. I must have fainted then.

I don’t know how long I was unconscious but I woke to find myself in my bed. Dora was sitting in a chair. “Mr. Darton sent me Miss because you were screaming.”

“Screaming? Was I?”

“Yes Miss, having a nightmare I expect.”

Could I have dreamt it all? I didn’t think so. “But I saw something, Dora.”
“What did you see, Miss?”

Her voice wavered and I thought she was getting ready to lie but I went on. “I saw something strange on the moors.”

She began to fidget with her hands just then. “What exactly did you see?”

I told her. She shook her head. “They have some people over but they haven’t been out to the moors, at least I don’t think so.”

“There’s something out there Dora, I’m not stupid or insane. I’ve seen a lot of activity out there. Does it have something to do with Mr. Darton’s club or whatever it is?”

She yawned then and stood up. “I am tired now, Miss and as you seem well enough I shall take my leave of you.”

I was too annoyed to say anything. I just watched her slip out and close the door.

No one was going to make me feel unsure of myself anymore; I was going to be stronger than that. I was determined to find out for myself what had happened, for something had.

And so I stole out to the moors in the direction of the altar stone. I stood there for some moments wondering where they had all gone, but then I noticed what looked like a tunnel. I could hear laughter and talking--screams and other sounds too, coming from somewhere deep inside. I decided to see what was happening.

It was dark but there were candles about. I continued on toward the sound. People moved about somewhere close by, sending flickering shadows along the walls ahead of me.

Creeping along a little more I saw chambers—enclosed areas filled with cushions and people… people doing things to one another.

I didn’t realize what they were doing at first but then I did, and I nearly cried out. Handsomely dressed men and women lay prostrate on the makeshift beds, offering their necks, their arms, their bodies, so that their mates – black-clothed figures – could bite into their flesh and drink their blood!

I watched in horror while the victims moaned with ecstasy while the predators licked the flowing blood from their skin. They loved it so much, they called out for the most indecent things to be done to them.

Then the clothing was discarded and men and women in all sorts of combinations began to pleasure one another.

Meanwhile they continued to feast on one another, and those they feasted on were screaming their delight!

I turned to run, but someone grabbed me. I managed to break free, and started to run as fast as I could.

I did finally emerge back onto the moors, only to be grabbed again and pushed to the ground. A girl held me down, a girl I recognized, a girl whose chin was caked in blood.

She was Imogene, the nasty one from the club. She reached for me and bent over me. “I will show you pleasure, I will show you worlds you cannot imagine!”

“No! No!” I cried, somehow managing to break away from her. I ran again as fast as I could. She chased after me but suddenly stopped to sniff the air. She then fell upon the ground.

At first I didn’t realize what she was doing, I only understood when she looked up and smiled. “Virgin blood, sweet to the taste!”

I don’t remember screaming. All I know is I was soon surrounded by a sea of anxious faces..."


  “The figure of the gothic child was there. Stoker's horror was there. Along with the romance! At the heart of her writing one stumbles upon a genuine search for that darkness we lost with the loss of Stoker."
DR. MARGARITA GEORGIEVA ~ Gothic Readings in The Dark

Top 10 Books - 2013
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

I for one found this gloriously gothic, refreshingly brutal, honestly horrific and a great read.
~Taliesin Meets the Vampires 

eFestival of Words 2014: Best Villain, Eco/ Best Horror, The House on Blackstone Moor

$2.99 singly.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

A Real Monster and Mass Murderer!


Erzsebet Bathory lived, she was a real sexual sadist and mass murderer. When you have absolute power in a backward country which 16th Century Hungary was, you can do whatever you want. When you actually believe that blood is the exlixir of youth, you will, whenever you like, bathe in human blood.

I wrote the book after having read several non-fiction books about Bathory. But when I read a novel which watered down her murderous insanity, I began writing this book.

She had lunatic acolytes that were only too happy to help with her torture and murder. They all perished, she didn't--despite the law wanting to try her and the king wanting them to! Her standing was such that she was never tried, but she was at least walled off and unable to resume her vicious ways.

Her name could not be spoken for a century after her death.

When I was thinking about how to write about this monster, I thought what if she became immortal? What then? I show that in my book. She does become immortal and she goes on and on...
There is a point made which I think is pretty ironic and frankly I can see it happening. Would the world be a place in our time that would be more accomodating to someone like Bathory? Would she find she likes the future because it isn't that shocked by her? Would she become 'just another serial killer?'

From today for one week only you can purchase this semi-fictionalised account of a real human monster for 99 cents.

"5out 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 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!!!!"

5 stars! A blood-soaked rendition of the fictional life of a real-life multiple murderer, history's 'Countess Dracula!'

4 STARS Reviewed By Lit Amri for Readers' Favorite
solid gothic horror from Gill."


99 cents thru 8 June

Monday, May 29, 2017

Free Read, 'MEMOIR'

Ever wonder about Dracula's love life? I did and was inspired to write this story which then inspired me to write The Fourth Bride (of Dracula). 


The journal beckoned him. Like the irresistible temptation of a lover’s touch, it coaxed him, teased him, lighting his passion with the promise of untold delights. He wondered if he dare read it. Why he had ever begun opening drawers, he had no idea it was impolite to the say the least but he had been too curious to resist.

“I give up.”

He was already under its spell and because he was, he dared to touch it. What a singularly beautiful thing it was. “I’ll have you.” Smiling, he ran his hand along the rich blood-red leather cover. There was no name on it, just the word in gold leaf “Memoir”.

Now, making certain that his chamber door was secure, he at last sat down. He was not rushing; it was a moment to savor. He closed his eyes and let the excitement rush over him. He found he felt thrilled in a sexual way for he hoped he would discover something which had not been intended for anyone to read but the diarist.

There was exhilaration for him sitting there, holding an object that might hold titillating secrets. Voyeur! At last he began to read.

I come from another time and place. From East of here where magic is the norm and superstition the custom. My father was a successful merchant well-known in our Province, my mother was long dead by the time he arranged a marriage for me. All was in order and I was sent for.

I was terribly afraid of life but more afraid of love. Still I was hopeful. But when I saw who my own father had chosen for me, I wept. You see he was old enough to be my father and then some and he was coarse in his ways despite being nobility. Yet this was the man I was betrothed to!

I refused. “What?He is acquainted with the Emperor! He calls him friend!How dare you refuse?”

Needless to say, the wedding took place at the appointed time, held in our city’s greatest Cathedral, there amongst the flowers and crypts we were declared husband and wife. At last it was over and the kiss I did dread was given me. 

“Not too long now, my petal.” A threat and a promise all rolled into one. His coach bore us to his home—my new home, a veritable castle of gleaming sandstone set upon lush landscaped acres, a mansion richly furnished. The servants greeted me quietly, some with pity in their eyes. “Come, bride! For we shall sup before–!”

Oh yes, before! The meaning was not lost on me. He guided me into the great hall. “Our wedding feast.” I looked to see a table brimming with dish upon dish of roasts and stews, of delicacies and rich desserts, each more opulently displayed than the other. 

He urged me to eat and drink but mainly to drink. All the while he was leering at me and saying the rudest things; his breath hot, his words offensive in the extreme. The later it got, the more frightened I felt. At last it could be put off no longer. The great clocks chimed for the dreaded hour was at hand. I was to go with my new husband to our bed chamber. “Come my dear.” How tightly he held my arm, leading me up the stairs, not saying a word only smiling in his horrible way. Several maids hurried from the room. They had unpacked my trunks. “Goodnight!” His words rang with impatience. Now for the first time I thought how like a pig he looked, fat and sweating. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? He really was a beast. “Now, it is finally time my dear!”

He lunged at me, his thick fingers pulling at my clothes, tearing the delicate fabric from my frame till at last I stood naked before him, paralyzed like a bird in the gaze of a snake. I was not surprised to find he had no regard for my virginity nor did he have any respect for my person. 

He forced himself most cruelly upon me. I must have passed out for when I woke he was dressing as I pretended to sleep, but he knew I was awake. “I know you are up, just remember. What I have done is nothing compared to what I shall do, you are my wife. And as wives are chattel and nothing more, you are just another object that I own to be used for my pleasure and entertainment!” 

I shuddered at the slam of the door and just lay there, feeling sad and tainted and broken. I wept for myself and for the hopelessness of my present situation fearing I would have to die by my own hand as I could not bear to remain with this monster. And so I fled. I ran as far as I could and when my legs would carry me no more I collapsed on the ground. The sweet moistness of the forest called to me.

“A grave is not the worst thing; it can be your sanctuary, little one, a peaceful haven from all of your pain.” I smiled for the thought was comforting. “I shall sleep now for I cannot keep awake and if I slip beyond sleep I shall not mind.” 

But I did not sleep long for I was soon awakened by the thunder of horses and the shouts of soldiers. My husband had found me. “You she devil! Do you think I will permit you to disgrace me or my fine name?” I begged for mercy, but there was none and I was taken to be slaughtered, for slaughter it was. While his men held me, he did run me through with a sword. “Die you scheming bitch, you whore!” I obliged, passing from life into death in one agonizing pain-filled moment—but I did not sleep long in that dark, lonely place for I was soon awakened by a voice commanding me to open my eyes:

“Awake thee and walk once more upon the earth, for one so young shall not be left to rot!” It was then that I beheld his face, this handsome being. The face of one I would always love—the face I would adore forever-! And so–!

The young man gasped and stopped reading for he had heard a noise and turned. There standing behind him was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen. “You have been reading my journal,” she said.

But she didn’t say it in anger and he smiled, for she was smiling too. “I hope you don’t mind me coming here. I wanted to see you before my sisters, for they are truly like sisters.”

The young man smiled sheepishly but his smile soon faded when he beheld the beauty’s own smile growing ever wider. “Your teeth!”

She shook her head. “Do not fear handsome young man, as my teeth sink into your soft flesh for I will show you worlds you cannot imagine—dreams you dare not dream, pleasure beyond any pleasure you have ever known or thought of.”

He gave himself up to her and just as her teeth began to sink into his flesh, the door did open and Dracula’s two other brides came in, floating like mist. How they smiled and giggled—for they were eager to taste his blood. Then as they all converged upon Jonathan Harker they suddenly stopped when they felt their Master’s eyes upon them.

He, Dracula was standing in the doorway! “Forgive us, please. Do not be angry,” they begged. Harker watched as Dracula admonished them. Yet even as he did, Harker saw a fearful light in the Count’s eyes, a light that bespoke sensual love and sexual pleasure beyond comprehension. And Harker knew so much in that instant for he had glimpsed another world—the world of endless night where sin and corruption live but death does not. “Come,” Dracula said. “Come and share that which can be your fate.”

But Harker did hesitate whereupon the brides turned toward him, their eyes blazing and their mouths ready to taste that which flowed through his veins—that which they coveted. But it was alright, for Harker knew and accepted his fate and at last lay back to await their touch and their teeth and the sweet pain that would soon disappear.

from 'Memoir'

copyright 2011 MEMOIR

one of the stories in:

Joshua Skye/DARK MEDIA

War surplus from the Eastern Front supplies a quaint little shop of horrors!
Orphaned child vampires
Haunted cemeteries where the dead dance,
What would Death say if he could speak?
A story of the war: evil comes to a village near you.
What if the world became Dead World?
Valhalla rejects are nasty, worst vampires ever!
Three tales of the Ripper
What are the blood-drenched secrets of The Crimson Club?
A crazed soldier and his famous father!
Zombies in therapy. Hey, why not?
Poetic justice meted out by grave angels and fate
Jonathan Harker has a night to remember!

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Paris for Justine!

Write what you know they say! Well, I was inspired to write Justine: Into the Blood when I was in Paris!

and by the way, Justine is a seamstress at the palace in the beginning. 

Take The Versailles Palace in France...add to it:

The Paris Catacombs

Mix in Georgian London and brothels with rakes, but also with:


Blend with that my love and study of history and you have Justine: Into the Blood! 

You all know how much I love history! By the way, even though my work in progress will surprise you, it's got history in it, too. But it is integral to the story. 

I believe all my work is, but perhaps the next one in the pipeline is even more so. 

As for Justine, though the story begins in Paris, it ends in England and finally on a ship bound for another place, as it is another time that this vampire is existing in. If they are immortal, their stories need to be expansive and Justine's is.

The best inspiration for a novel is whatever magic you feel and yes, it is a magical moment when suddenly you feel something special. You see it too, in your mind's eye. It's like a road with signs on it, where to go next--where to set your tale, even!

Your characters begin to step forward. They're waiting ahead for you. They might even introduce themselves to you.

"Yes, that's' right. This way."

The road becomes your setting. Countries and cities, their depiction in the past or present or future! You're the director! It's what you want. You decide.

I find history inspires me because it's a story that has already been written. I just have to wait for someone to tell me the tale! And you know what, they do!

A vampire prince and a beautiful Parisienne meet in the 18th century City of Light.
Born in pre-Revolutionary France and orphaned as a child, Justine Bodeau is taken in by a family friend who employs her as a seamstress. Eventually, she winds up to work in the court of Queen Marie Antoinette. A strong-willed survivor, defeat does not occur to her. When she fights off an attack by an aristocrat and kills him, she is given refuge but is soon betrayed and winds up on the streets of Paris, where she is attacked and killed by rogue vampires. But the Vampire Prince of Paris 

"Top of its genre!"

"Revenge, betrayal, passion, bloodshed, lust and love are just a few of the elements of this dark and spellbinding book."

"This vampire romance is rich in history, deep in blood sex and exotic locations and is very highly recommended."

"Vampires have their own allure and none more so than the female.
“An amazing historical vampire romance that must surely rank at the top of its genre.”

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Where I Was When I Wrote About Vampires and Demons!

I'm busy working on my new book. But I want to blog more. I think readers like to know about the writing process.

As I just put up a tweet about book 2 Unholy Testament - The Beginnings, in The Blackstone Vampires Series, I happened to think of where I was when I wrote one of the chapters. My darling husband made it possible because when we went away with the doggies in our caravan, I had my laptop and whatever else was needed!

I'll start here even though it's book two. I'll give you two for one today. Book 1 of course came first.
That was The House on Blackstone Moor. I remember starting that after an exhausting outing on Haworth Moor which we did after seeing the Bronte Parsonage. I've blogged about it.

Let me just say briefly about the inspiration: there is an old ruin there, some say it was the inspiration for Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. That gave me an idea, but the main inspiration was the moor itself. It's dramatic and bleak, even on a nice day.

I pictured a house and began to fill it with inhabitants. I imagined the land haunted and the storyline followed!

This post is about Book 2, Unholy Testament - The Beginnings and where I was. Well, we were in Scotland with very good friends. It was summer and the midges were out. They're nasty little things like mosquitoes. They're not always out or troublesome, we were just lucky! But it turned out great. We drove along the northern coast and thrilled at the wild beauty of the place.

I really had to use my imagination in order to write about a mad demon confessing his sins because it was so beautiful there. But I did!

Another world opens up when you need it to. It's the world of your fiction, the fiction you are working on. Your characters dwell there and you watch them. They live and breathe, too. And if you have to wait for them to 'come alive,' you will. They do, I promise you.

Sometimes it takes awhile and it can be annoying, but then it happens. Just keep up with it. They'll let you know how and when. Your characters like and respect you, even if you are wary of them and their motives!

Remember, imagination is everything in writing. Inspiration is the spark that sets the whole thing off. Standing by a loch in Scotland can inspire me to see something in my mind: a ship sailing on open seas, staffed by vampires, overseen by a demon. See? That's how it works!

Each novel is sold singly $2.99 and all 4 are $4.99 at Amazon