Thursday, July 31, 2014

99 cents! The House on Blackstone Moor

The book that kicked off the Blackstone Vampires Series! Knock if you dare, they'll let you in. But once you're there, you might never leave!

The horror is relentless, the tale is dark because evil is. It always was. Rose Baines found out the day she discovered her mad, incestuous father murdered her family. Evil found a way in, you see, but then again it had come in even before.

The horrific discovery causes her to be incarcerated in two madhouses. Doctor Bannion, superintendent of Marsh Asylum, helps his favorite patient obtain a position as governess at Blackstone House, but why is he so adamant? The house, her charges tell her, is built on haunted moorland. Nothing is as it seems for Blackstone House, and its inhabitants have hideous secrets; the greatest secret of all is that of the blood.

Amid the unimaginable horror there is love - which comes at a terrible price.

The House on Blackstone Moor is a sure pick for fans of gothic horror novels and darkest vampire romance.

Excerpt from the novel:
Yes, dread and fear are different. Dread is beyond fear, I think. Dread knows fear was correct in the first place, and it just intends to sit and wait for the worst to happen, which will happen because dread, if nothing else, is sure of itself. 

So what did I dread? The answer is a great many things, but mostly I dreaded the future. 

Emotional pain is worse than physical pain, I believe. No part of my body hurt, yet I was suffering more than I ever had in my life. Here I was, barely seventeen and without family.


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


99 cents July 31-August 6

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Justine: Into The Blood Is Coming Soon!

Yes, it is! I am just working through edits now and then I send my new baby to my wonderful publisher at Creativia!

I did a blog post recently about this novel. Just to recap:

Justine Bodeau was born in pre-Revolutionary France, orphaned as a child she is taken in by a family friend who employs her as a seamstress—eventually, she winds up as a seamstress to the court of Queen Marie Antoinette.

She is strong willed and a 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 for whatever reason, love will not let her die and the rest of the novel enlarges upon that.

Having been attacked and raised up as a vampire, she goes from wishing to be destroyed, to wanting to survive. This, when she feels passion for the one who brought her back, Gascoyne—the one they call the Vampire Prince of Paris.

When her reason to exist is taken from her—she finds love in the most unlikely of places with another—yet there is hardship and horror too. Still, something in her drives her on, no matter how little reason there seems to be for her to wish to go on.

There is a lot of steamy romance in this one.  I had fun writing it and I hope readers enjoy reading it. It’s far less dark than my previous series although it is for readers over 18 years of age. These are vampires, you understand!

Watch this space for publication date! 

Each novel in The Blood and Passion Series is a stand alone. Book 2 follows shortly! 

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Confessions of a Demon: Unholy Testament - Full Circle

Excerpt from the novel:

"Now, I shall tell you of the most interesting adventure. Eve and I left my lodgings and headed up toward the river. London was not the easiest place to travel in those days; many people went by boat. We hired a boatman to take us upriver. Eve gave him specific directions as to our destination.

There was much mystery about our trip. No matter how much I pressed her, she barely told me anything for she wished me to see it for myself. The river teemed with boats, yet as we progressed along, the traffic thinned out as the scenery began to change. We passed great houses, mansions really. Eve looked proud of herself sitting there, proud to know such people, I suppose.

At last we arrived. The boat did not dock as such, for a few men stepped out of the shadows to receive the boat and ourselves. It was obvious too that they were carefully vetting us. Clearly, a lot of precautions were being taken to ensure we were entitled to arrive. Eve had only spoken a little about who it was we were to see. I think she did it more for a sense of drama than anything else. Whatever her reasons, I found myself thrilled by the occasion of this visit.

“Look, there is the house.”

I looked to see a great house, far larger than those we passed, coming up. It seemed to me to be a manor house probably built in the past century. Enough light emanated from the house for us to see the servants who had come out to greet us. They looked ordinary enough but on closer inspection, they seemed a bit odd, very reserved and guarded.

One of them announced: “His Lordship is in the library.”

Oh right, I thought. His Lordship, how interesting.

He motioned for us to enter. We did, stepping into a circular entrance hall. It looked like the one at Blackstone House. I always thought Eve fancied this one and had the other modeled to look like it. The hall was even grander still, what with its paintings and cabinets, vases and settees; each and every object looked priceless.

At last, we were shown into the library. A well-dressed man stood there, with his back to us. When he turned around, we saw he was masked. An ornate and quite attractive mask, all gold and decked with black plumes. “Ah Eve,” he called. “I am so honored.”

Eve hurried to him and they embraced. Then she whispered something. He turned to look at me and I felt certain she had told him what I was.

“This is an honor,” he said, almost bowing.

I replied it was for me, as well.

He didn’t offer us drinks, which I thought odd. Instead, he led us to a series of passageways, the last of which led in turn to some stairs. I didn’t see the stairs immediately, as there was a rather handsome tapestry covering the entrance. He pulled it back and bade us to follow him.

The air had suddenly turned dank. The further we walked, the more damp it felt. I lost count of the many rats that scurried around us. It was in fact a thoroughly creepy but atmospheric place, no doubt perfect for whatever occurred there.
At last, we entered a chamber of some sort. I shall tell you of another place like this later on.

I saw many people about, all of them naked but for a mask! Eve asked me if I was shocked. I assured her little would shock me as I had seen nearly everything there was to see in my existence.

The guests milled about casually, seemingly oblivious to their nakedness. I have to say their physiques ranged from handsome to atrocious. The women weren’t too bad; in fact some were quite pleasing to the eye. The men, however, did vary in how they looked. Some were terribly fat and paunchy; others more slender and toned. They barely noticed us but greeted their host instead—the ladies by curtseying and the gentlemen by bowing. We were then led into another room; the one thing I noticed was the altar in front.

Eve whispered something to me, which I did not hear. She then stepped over to our host, drawing off his cloak so that he too was naked.After this, she disrobed quickly and stretched out upon the altar. I gasped for I hadn’t expected her to do that.

His Lordship took his place there too and called upon Satan to come and received his bounty.

I was incredulous. I suppose I was jealous. Satan appeared—emerging from a great cloud of noxious smoke in his human form. He made straight for Eve and I had the feeling that he had seen her many times before. He took her there as dogs take one another, as I have taken many men and women in my existence. It lasted for so long, too. Eve shrieked with delight.

When at last they finished, a young girl, looking quite insensible, was brought forth on a litter. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen. She wasn’t defiled sexually; in fact, she was offered up whole to Satan. He began to devour her, then all stepped forward to take pieces of her gore-encrusted flesh. Eve appeared quite ravenous, her naked body gleaming with blood. I too ate, for it was all somehow stimulating.

After this, we lay satiated for a time while musicians came to play for us. It recalled to me the distant days spent at Caligula’s palace when such music was played. You see, the instruments were the same—lutes. The musicians were robed as Romans, which I thought gave the whole sordid and vile scene some class.

Later on, we both participated in an orgy, although not with one another. I don’t know how many women threw themselves at me and men, too. I slept afterwards and woke to see some servants cleaning up the bloody remains of the girl. His Lordship seemed particularly taken with Eve. I lost count of the number of times they coupled.

When at last it ended, we left the same way we had come. Eve was glowing for she had really enjoyed herself. She asked me how I liked it. I assured her I found it very stimulating even though I was a bit bored.

“Well, you will not be! For I have yet to show you a real witches’ sabbat. When should you like to see one?”

“As soon as possible,” I replied..."

(End of excerpt)



Friday, July 18, 2014

DARKMEDIA'S 5 Stars for House of Horrors!

Excerpt of Joshua Skye's review:

“I fear we too are dying, for we live with madness.” The nightmarishly beautiful prose is but one reason to venture into the unnerving catacombs of House of Horrors, an anthology of short genre excursions by the indomitable Carole Gill. From a storm-shrouded lighthouse to the foggy realms of haunted forests and even a jaunt through Whitechapel, Carole Gill lulls you into her gothic web, masterfully weaving for you a series of nightmarish tales to unease your dreary nights. She is the contemporary incarnation of the storyteller at the fire, and we gather in the light of the flickering flame wide-eyed and eager to listen..."

Please go toDarkMedia to read the rest of the review!

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Jack the Ripper Excerpt: HOUSE OF HORRORS


EXCERPT: "He’d go down Whitechapel way. He had been there before, slumming; looking down his nose at the inhabitants. It made him feel better. Compensation.

Whitechapel Road was busy. The market stalls were filled with useless claptrap. The eager faces of sellers smiling and groveling at him as he walked by, calling out to him in their guttural voices to look at their worthless wares; wares eagerly sought by others but not him—not a gentleman. Of course he had bought a hatchet recently. Nice little thing, but rather big. The knife was much better: stainless steel—razor sharp.

Just placing it in his coat was enough to still the rage. “You just wait, Mr. Rough and Ready. You and I shall show them.”

Next to the Ten Bells in Spitalfields and a few beers, not too many or they’d slow his reflexes. The place was packed. What a noisy bunch of beggars, singing and screaming with laughter.

“To your health!”

And yours, you drunken slime. No, just in his head, nothing to alert them.

Making his way out of the pub he saw children, filthy and reeking of the gutter. Dirty little guttersnipes. Always a dirt-encrusted hand flung out at him. “Please guv—ain’t you got a penny? Just for a spot somewhere. . . ”

Sometimes he’d fling them a penny just to watch them scamper and fight with one another. Not children to him, just younger rats: vermin all.

Yet despite his contempt he was enjoying his surroundings. Yes, he reasoned—he had begun to like the place. How foolish he was not to have seen its many assets earlier.

It was fun wallowing in its iniquitous debauchery, walking the streets like God. “The hand of God shall strike down the corruption that poisons the vineyard!”

Perhaps not in the Bible but it could have been!

The later it got the less people there were about. Ordinary souls went home; those that didn’t were what he wanted. Prey.

He had been choosey that night he killed. There were, after all, several he had thought suitable for dispatch. But then he spotted HER, his chosen.You are the first but not the last, mind. Not the last by any means.

She had been walking along Whitechapel Road, when he began following her. She glanced over her shoulder a few times. Then finally when she realized she was being followed she stopped.

He knew she’d be smiling. “Why, ain’t you the gent?” She had sized him up, drunk as she was. “Three pennies and you can do what you like for as long as you like. Then I’ll do it to you.”

He smiled and nodded. Then he made a courtly gesture for her to lead the way. Buck’s Row.

She began to ready herself. While she was in the process of hiking her skirt up, he grabbed her by the throat. She tried to scream, but with his fingers on her throat she could only gasp. Still, she put up a good struggle, kicking and trying to free herself.

He held her fast. “It’s time now. . . ”

He was wondering if she heard him say that. Not that it would have mattered. Still, he wondered.

“It’s time for Mr. Rough and Ready to go to work.”

She knew. He saw her eyes widen—the light wasn’t good but he could just make out the look of terror in her eyes. She trembled with the first slice—but he kept on slicing—something like a sexual thrill was flowing over him, causing him
to shudder. Now for the first time in his life he felt himself harden. Irony

He smiled. He could cry with joy later. There wasn’t time now. Just time to shudder and pant and keep slicing. The feeling eased. He stopped. It was time to leave. He only glanced down at her once. Just a quick glance but he tried so hard to remember everything so he could recall it later..."

(End of Excerpt)

Tuesday, July 15, 2014


Graphic violence!

“It’s no use running, because we’ll catch you!”

The three demon clowns were closing in. It might not have been any use, but he ran anyway. He ran all the way down the station platform, got to the end and just stopped. He knew he was licked.

It wasn’t until he heard the approach of a train that he smiled. Then he screamed once and jumped on to the tracks. The train hit him at breakneck speed. He was dead before his body was torn assunder. Bits of him were scattered all over the place.

The clowns nodded to one another and smiled as they flew down to the tracks.

Yes, these clowns could fly.

His flesh tasted good, salty and sweet at the same time. They ate whatever they could find: bones and sinews even the mangled body parts.

His guts were the real delicacy though, filled as they were with his last meal.

“Mac Donald’s,” one of them announced in his slightly nasal voice.

The other nodded. “Fries too but some chicken bits as well.”

The third clown was smiling mischievously. “I think he probably found two half eaten meals. I’d say it was the Big M and Kentucky Fried.”

He was annoyed when the other two didn’t reply. He liked being agreed with. So he waited.

When the others felt his blood red eyes upon them they spoke. Happy said he thought Red Eyes was right and Fuzzy agreed.

“You’re always right, Red Eyes. That’s why we respect you so


They were demons from hell–clown-like monsters from Satan’s own domain. The damned like a circus too; who doesn’t?

They tended to come and go as much as they liked. No hidden apertures for them to pass through. No that was old hat.

 Besides, they preferred the city, any big city, Paris, London and New York were their favorites.

For the past century or so they had been coming to New York.

“I love the Big Apple. So much to eat!”

They meant, of course, the homeless.

(End of excerpt)



Friday, July 11, 2014

PROMO! House of Horrors 99 cents July 11 - 17!

In 'House of Horrors' you will find stories of vampires, zombies, murderous midgets, demon clowns, evil dolls, haunted cemeteries ,  a real shop of horrors, taxidermy gone haywire, serial killers and more--!

Your worst fears and nightmares dished up for you with extra helpings of blood- curdling terror.

Right this way folks, they're all waiting for you!

Friday, July 4, 2014

My Story Is In Author Brian L. Porter's 'After Armageddon' Collection!

Yes it is and I'm excited! Brian L. Porter is an award winning author and screenwriter. He's also a co-producer at Thunderball Films.

When he asked me if I'd like to contribute a story to his collection  I waited exactly zero seconds and said, "YESSSSSSSS!"

Let me tell you about his collection first!

After Armageddon, depicts a future Earth scenario in the aftermath of a global nuclear holocaust, with a surprising twist in the tale.

The Voice of Anton Bouchard, a novelette length thriller, soon to be made into a motion picture by Thunderball Films, tells the chilling story of ‘The Butcher Beast’, a vicious serial killer stalking the streets of Paris one long, hot summer. Take a journey inside the mind of a serial killer as ‘Anton Bouchard’ leaps from the pages to turn the streets of Paris red with the blood of his victims.

The Devil You Know takes us to Mexico, where police captain Juan Morales recounts his involvement in the case of a number of missing choirboys. This story led to the follow-up novel:

Avenue of the Dead soon to be released in paperback and Kindle editions by Creativia.

In Red Sky in the Morning, a nuclear submarine surfaces from a long and arduous patrol to find the sky has turned red, all communication channels are dead, and it appears the crew are all alone on the vast expanse of the ocean. As they search for life in any form, the mystery only deepens.

R.I.G.S and Alien Abduction take the reader into the world of science fiction, while the world of the paranormal is featured in The Festival. These and many others are contained in this exciting collection.

"A superbly diverse cross-genre collection, highlighting an incredibly talented author." 
-Mario Domina, CEO, Thunderball Films LLC- 

Now, here's where I come in!   

I have a story in there, entitled, Raised which is about a necrophilic doctor living in early 19th Century England. He deals with two grave robbers who give him what he wants. Well, he enjoys studying the dead. 'Studying' in the case of the doctor has quite an expansive meaning (if you take my meaning).

It's pretty dark and will keep you up at night. So be warned!

"A young boy's fascination turns to obsession as years pass by, and memories of his mother, declared mad by those who knew her, begin to intrude more and more into his psyche. A doctor obsessed by death, gruesome keepsakes, grave robbing and supernatural ritual, all come together in Carole Gill's latest offering, 'Raised'. Don't miss this one!"

-Author Brian L. Porter