Monday, November 30, 2015


99 cents NOV 30 - DEC. 6
Although it is book 4 in The Blackstone Vampires Series, it can be read as a stand alone. It is recommended for mature readers. 


"We left the castle in the light of a full moon. I moved faster than I ever had before. In a moment it seemed I went from the castle grounds to the edge of the forest. How magical it felt. The great height of the mountain was meaningless when vampire prowess is involved. If I flew, Dracula did as well, soaring even more quickly in his bat form.

Just as we reached the base of the mountain, I slowed down so that I merely floated. It was a strange feeling but a pleasant one. If I thought we’d feed on wildlife Dracula did not. He said we were bound for a village.

“The village is not far,” he said. “But we must be careful for we will not have the aid of the Szgany here.”

That had a great many implications all of them serious. Still, we were not deterred. In fact we were exhilarated, for there is pleasure in the hunt, an indescribable thrill in the stalking.

We came at last upon a small village. There were but a few white washed cottages and an inn. The inn drew our attention for it was full of chatter. The people sounded merry; possibly the worse for drink.

I was excited. Their perceived vulnerability was like an aphrodisiac. I wondered where we would lie in wait, but then Dracula gestured toward a small courtyard. It was good for our purpose, bathed as it was in dark, shadowy depths. I crept into a space to await my bounty.

“If you close your eyes you can smell their blood,” he whispered.

As I did this I realized I could distinguish different sorts of people from one another: men from women and so on. I could even discern their ages. It is, as I have come to think of it since, the blood scent and it is unique to each human being. Some scents were more interesting than others and I told him.

“They are drunk on wine...” he said.

I nodded and smiled for it was a heady scent I could almost taste.

He asked me then if I could smell the passion in the blood. This surprised me. I hadn’t noticed anything nor had I thought of it that way. But when he said it, I realized I could!

“It’s tangy and salty all at once. I have often been led to people coupling just by that scent alone. Of course there are other scents along with that!” he waved me off. “Shh, they are coming.”

I realized he was right for suddenly I heard the sound of a man’s voice and a woman’s. The man was whispering endearments and the girl giggled. He then began to tease and coax her into coming along with him. I wondered where they were going. I didn’t have long to wait for they were walking toward a house.

I heard the woman ask: “Is this where you live?” And the man replied. “Of course, I wouldn’t go to a stranger’s house.”

They thought that immensely funny and began to laugh. Just as they crossed the road, we rushed forward. Dracula grabbed the man and pulled him into the shadows as I took the woman. Neither cried out. They were too stunned. This was an early lesson I was to learn. “You can paralyze your prey,” Dracula had said. “Just be quick and feed well.”

This I did. I sank my teeth into the woman’s soft flesh. She began to shake as I sucked her blood. And I sucked a lot. It was good and sweet and tasted of spiced wine. She did try to pull away a few times, but I held her in an iron grip.

Dracula must have drained the man pretty quickly because he was soon by my side, kneeling before the woman. I watched as he began to feed on the other side of her neck. He fed in other places too, as he sometimes fed on me and the brides. I think he realized I didn’t like him to do that because he whispered, “Don’t be jealous, you do it too.”

I made no reply but instead sank my teeth into the woman’s breast and began to feed. This was not sexual. It is good to feed there because the heart is there; that wonderful, blood-filled organ throbbing with life.

“Organs are best for they are like casks of wine to us...”

Yes, his words to me.

Suddenly, Dracula began to fondle me. To feed and to be caressed at the same time is pleasurable in the extreme. This, he did for as long as I fed. When I knew I had drained the woman, I moved away. Then in the shadows of these bloodless corpses and every bit as evil as I felt the other brides to be, I coupled with Dracula. Both our passions were raised by our feeding. Yes, it was true. The passion was most definitely in the blood.

It was nearly dawn when we left. So full of blood we found it hard to move but move we did because we had to.

99 cents


Buy complete set (4 novels) for $3.99

Friday, November 27, 2015



"Fred looked to see an assortment of dolls, one of which was a toy monkey playing a drum.
Joe grinned. “Now, he’s a favorite of mine, the initial experiment. He was never a real monkey. Just a man from another place.”

The monkey started to scream. “Yup.” Joe shook his head. “Still pissed off. He didn’t want to be summoned from Hell, but he was. He’s used to it now though. I fashioned him and other small demons into toys. Very popular they are, too. They possess folk, that’s their purpose, see? The rest are different.” Joe gestured toward the other dolls. “These were the sideshow stars that left. They got a little too big for their britches. The fat lady was a bitch on wheels. She took a knife to me once!”
Fred looked and to his horror, he realized the doll had been mutilated.

“See? I cut off her arms and legs and breasts, too. Then I realized that was stupid. Who’s gonna buy a doll like that? Anyhow, I leave her alone. She’s in another place. Doesn’t know where she is kind of thing.” He nodded and pointed out the rest of his former sideshow. “Yup, they brought it on themselves by disobeying and not respecting me. And the religious ones! Man! Was that a pain in the ass… Better not tell you where they wound up!”

Fred couldn’t take anymore, but Joe just continued: “It’s not as hard as you think. Just a few well-placed words and this soldier doll for example becomes just a toy for kids to play with! Now, his girl…” Joe smiled. “See, look here…” He held up a beautiful little woman doll. “I keep her around for my personal entertainment. She’s too good for the stand. Don’t want her bought, see?”

The little doll screamed but Joe only laughed.

Fred didn’t pay that much mind because he was screaming, too."

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical." 

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs." 

"Never going to the circus again!" 

"True horror!" 

"The circus you really don't want to join."

Wednesday, November 25, 2015


 “The larder is bare, fellas. ’Fraid not. We’ll just have some beer and pretzels if there are any.”

“Sounds good to me.” Joe smiled. “Let me just go back for my suitcase. My clothes and what not. I left it in a safe place in the woods not far from here. I had my tent pitched. See, I didn’t know how far I’d have to go.”

Fred took the truck to pick it up, while Joe gave directions. They located the tent and the suitcase.

Fred didn’t expect to see the dead man though. Dead as shit with a bullet hole in his forehead.

“Don’t mind him,” Joe said. “He owed me money. Besides, your clowns and the fat lady will like him, I’m sure.”

Fred started to shake, but Joe steadied him. “I knew what they were. I smelled your cooking before, dead giveaway. “Don’t look like you swallowed a squirrel whole, boy. I figured them for cannibals. Known so many I find they just give off their own scent. The world is stranger than you know, my friend. And before too long it’s gonna get a lot stranger. Meanwhile, let’s load my stuff up—including that dead bastard.”
The clowns carved the man up and roasted him. They were very good with their special knives, very adept. Baby Alice was delighted—she made potato fritters. She was able to because Fred stopped for hot dogs and some other things on the way back from town.

“To each his own,” Joe said. “I seen a lot of cannibals. They’re not the only ones; you’d be surprised how common it is. Most folks just don’t know.”


What exactly is wrong with this circus? 

There are demonic, flesh-eating clowns, murderous midgets, there is a fat lady with some peculiar tastes (to put it mildly) and there is an old man with one hell of a secret. Old Pa keeps a trunk with some very special souvenirs. 

When a stranger joins up who has second sight (among other talents) the old man's son gets nervous. 

If that isn't enough, there are a lot of very strange beings not to mention a succubus or two and some beings from hell! 


“This is horrific in the best way! It is extreme ... and disturbing.

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the sideshow.

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

“Scary from beginning to end! Sit back and read your way into a horror filled tale! Enjoy!”

Tuesday, November 24, 2015


During 99 cent promotion. Eve's Confession of an affair with Satan! Her confession along with the demon Eco's horrific confessions:


"He stood silhouetted in front of my window, this tall being gazing down at me. I began to cry for I was fearful lest he hurt me.

His voice was a soft whisper. “I will not hurt you, Eve.”

I asked him how it was he knew my name but he did not answer. Instead, he came toward me. I let him touch me, for I longed for comfort. His touch was gentle, too. I opened myself to him, I wept as I told him what had happened. He let me speak for the longest time before he whispered: “I have come to love you.”

There was something about his tone that made me pull away. “Who are you?” I asked, feeling ever more frightened.

His answer was to let me gaze upon his face. Lighting a candle, he held it close. You know how handsome he can look if he so chooses and that was how he looked.

“I am lord of the dark, god of all you secretly covet. I am he who rules the great dark depths of punishment and beyond!”

As I opened my mouth to scream he came upon me. Like a wind he rushed over me, touching every part of me. At first it was calming but then he hurt me—he hurt me so, Louis. I screamed but his mouth covered my lips to stifle those screams. Blackness came then and he carried me off so that I felt nothing for the longest time.

I woke broken and bleeding. I was still so child-like, yet I knew I had been ravished. And because I feared my father’s wrath, I washed and waited for his return. When he came back, he said nothing. And I said nothing and life went on like that, but for the dreaded times when Satan returned in the quiet of the night—to continue what he started.

The months passed and my father’s cruelty continued. When I finally turned sixteen, I left my father’s home, foolishly hoping Satan would not know where I went.

I survived as best I could. And because I felt myself damaged, I sold my body, freely and often. I did this in order to eat and have a place to lay my head.

Many times I would walk into a shop and see the same look in the shopkeeper’s eyes that I had seen in Satan’s. And I would wait whilst he locked the door and led me to the cellar.

I was taken in that way in innumerable places, by all sorts of men. Old young, handsome, ugly, flushed with sickness—trembling with excitement, stinking with sweat, begrimed by dirt, too.

However they were it didn’t matter, as long as I had some coins for my trouble. I used to lie back whilst being pummeled to the floor, thinking of where I was next bound.

I created little fancies in my head, plays if you will, of what I wished to have for myself. Often I dreamed I was a great lady, the mistress of a fine house. It helped, you see. It was a glimmer of hope for me.

But then, Satan returned one day. I recognized him at once. He washed me and clothed me and was actually kind to me. I still don’t know why that was. Could it be I thought that sometimes Satan is good? He had been after all an angel once, had he not?

I longed to see him after that. Well, I was so unused to kindness that I did, because he was far nicer than most of the horrible men I coupled with.

However, I didn’t see him for the longest time after that, until one day...

“I will always come to you, Eve. But never to hurt you—for I care for you and always will.”

I believed him, foolish girl that I was. Imagine believing the Great Deceiver?

But I will tell you this, Louis. I was by that time obsessed with him. An obsession that was to grow in intensity to the point where I am still obsessed with him. I am a slave to him and to the corrupt passion he inflames within me..."

Regular price, $2.99. Now 99 cents on promotion.

Each of the four novels sold singly

All 4 books in the series comprise the box set
which is priced at $3.99.

2014 - Amazon Bestseller in Dark Fantasy
2015 - Amazon Bestseller in Vampire Horror

92 Horror authors you need to read right now'
Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series
~Charlotte Books EXAMINER
"In the attempt to find the just measure of horror and terror, I came upon the writing of Carole Gill whose work revealed a whole new dimension to me. 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



4 novels comprise The Blackstone Vampires. They all connect one upon the other although, book 4, The Fourth Bride can be read as a stand-alone. Vampires are immortal beings. Their stories span centuries. That is what this series is all about. That, and the battle between good and evil. This excerpt illustrates that. It is from Unholy Testament - Full Circle, Book 3 which contain the confessions of a demon. This selection is about acquiring illegitimate children for devil rites. The ruse was there existed a haven for young women in trouble.

From Eco's journal:

"And so the message went out: “Make your way to London town and then cross the river to Southwark. Go up from the banks near the George Inn on Borough Street, there you will find a haven and good folk to help you in your hour of need! Do not fear, young miss, for these are fine people. Your cherished babe will go to good Christian folk who will raise your dear little one and give it a good home.”

Yes, Rose, they came—the poor, the not so poor; some were ugly, others were beautiful; many were in the first bloom of youth or already past it. They were, however, all united by desperate circumstances.

Eve never pressed them about their individual stories, but if there was some sort of confession, she would hear the pathetic stories from those who chose to unburden themselves as to how they had strayed.

A confession is good for the soul and though we had none, they had, and so they were comforted.
She’d show them to a room, not much more than a cupboard. But they were grateful, and as for the occasional shrieks they heard coming from other rooms and dens within our tainted dwelling, Eve would advise them not to mind the noise.

“They are just happy drunken folk who cannot hold their liquor. Alas, we need our business in order to care for women such as you…”

She’d implore them to be forgiving. They all were; the lost usually are.

So there you have it. What a picture it makes…desperate women giving birth and our vile activities—orgiastic feasting and feeding along with intense copulation—all under the same roof. How wretched.
As for the girls, some of them barely made it to our door. Many gave birth as soon as they stepped inside.

And so the babies were taken. None of them were nursed or even looked upon. Well, perhaps just a glance if the mother pleaded and wept.

“Yes, dear, there you go. We have a wet nurse who shall take your precious little love now. The family arrives tomorrow…”

The mothers, too defeatist even to protest, would go on their way, some to live, others to happily fall into Father Thames for they could not live with their decision.

We did actually have wet nurses. These were drunken and diseased trollops who often gave their milk away for a drink while their own baby perished one way or another.

Our babies would be quickly dispatched—coaches came and went all the time. There was a great deal of devil worship in those days. It was most surprising.

And what of the rites themselves? Well, it might surprise you to learn that there was a great need for curses and spells. Oh yes, witchcraft in its purest form was very much practiced. It hadn’t ever gone away for many people wished to have spells and incantations said for a variety of purposes. Greed was endemic. The wealthy and powerful could never have enough, always seeking more. Women wanted men they couldn’t have or men who had grown distant.,,"



All 4 books in the series comprise the box set
which is priced at $4.99.

2014 - Amazon Bestseller in Dark Fantasy
2015 - Amazon Bestseller in Vampire Horror

92 Horror authors you need to read right now'
Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series
~Charlotte Books EXAMINER
"In the attempt to find the just measure of horror and terror, I came upon the writing of Carole Gill whose work revealed a whole new dimension to me. 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


Saturday, November 21, 2015


This post inspired the novel, Unholy Testament - The Beginnings. It is a recollection by Eco, the demon, of the infamous Gilles de Rais, who rode with Joan of Arc but had a secret life. The novel is on sale for 99 cents.

"It is I your servant Eco once again with an accounting of the final judgement of a certain man that I myself witnessed--an individual who dishonestly made a pact with Satan.
By the way, if there are any apologists for this man then I can only say this: I heard his confession from the man's own lips.

Gilles de Rais was his name, former aide to Joan of Arc and a notorious child murderer. His castle and its grounds were filled with the mutilated remains of children savagely killed.

Children had in fact been vanishing for years but nothing was done.

You see at this time in France a noble could rather do as he wished as long as peasants were the only ones being victimized.

De Rais used his servants and cousin to snatch the objects of his sexual depravity whenever he liked. Still on occasion he grew bored.

At such times he'd over spend. He was very extravagant and regularly found himself in need of money. Like so many at the time he believed alchemy was the answer to money worries.

He was told of a famous sorcerer who could turn water into gold. That is what drove him to contact the renowned Francois Prelati.

Prelati was more than willing when he saw de Rais' opulent lifestyle.

"Of course it is possible," He said. "However in order to do this my lord—a demon must be summoned from hell and in order for that to happen I will have to write my spells in a book using the blood of children!"

The corpses of children were never far and the request was cheerfully granted. Prelati was given more than enough children's blood with which to write the book of spells for the summoning. He was also given other assorted grisly items for sacrifice.

Prelati was pleased. "Now for the final requirement--the pact. You must hold a parchment wherein you have stated your pledge to give Satan your soul!"

De Rais agreed and the ceremony went on.

What Prelati never realized was de Rais had stipulated he would do anything, but he would not give up his soul!

The cheek! I mean really!

I find that rather distasteful though I am of demonic origins myself. But one has to recognize truth when one comes upon it.

Eventually, de Rais was arrested for something else entirely--the child murders were discovered accidentally. The result however was a trial.

Satan and I saw him during his trial. We were passing ourselves off as Papal Emissaries which was rather fun.

The court was incensed by de Rais' contempt. He was hostile and condescending.

When the court adjourned for a two day break, Satan and I visited him.

During those two days both Satan and I spoke to him. A great deal can be accomplished under such circumstances!

When court resumed he returned contrite and pled for his entry back into the church. He confessed and said his one desire was to face his death bravely.

Any nobility he had lost he was intent on recouping.

He did of course foolishly believe the clerics who said he was forgiven and would enter heaven!

You see they may believe that to be the case but in the last analysis it is up to the old man there and we all know God isn't a push over.

If you think God forgives all manner of sin then take another scan through the Old Testament.

I know where of I speak. I am the son of a fallen angel and let me tell you right now, there are those who immediately regretted siding with Lucifer and sought forgiveness. Their answer was eternal damnation, not forgiveness!

When the end came, I saw de Rais go bravely to his death. He wished to set an example to the others who were condemned with him: his cousin and some servants. Prelati managed to get off with his life but that was only temporary.

As for de Rais, Satan and I were there to greet him when he reached hell.

"It is you!" he cried when his eyes beheld Satan.

"Yes," Satan answered. "And now you are mine for it is only right!"

If he looked horrified then he looked worse as the legion of demons began to descend on him--pinching and tormenting him.

"I have been damned!" he cried.

"For all time!" Satan replied. "You see in a way I am God's heavy. I punish those who are not worthy of heaven. But also--!" he added, "I don't like to be made a fool of! Pact indeed, how dare you presume to hold back your soul from me?!"

I winced to see the terrible pain and suffering that began to be inflicted upon this man.

"Yes," Satan cried. "A pact is a pact. There is no going back, no codicils here! Hell is not a court of law, there is no bargaining. Your sins are the currency that earns you damnation!"

'Such is the word of Satan—Lord to all who are damned by deed whether or not they think they shall be.'

-Eco—your servant in Hell.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015


What is a blood-soaked romp with Blood Countess Erzsebat Bathory like? Read demon, Eco's confessions in Unholy Testament - The Beginnings, on sale for 99 cents NOW THRU FEB. 22

"As the girl had been drained and was of no further use, she had the corpse taken away and had another girl brought in, and another after that.

“This should get us through the night.” She smiled as she sank her teeth into the girl’s soft white flesh.

“Do you never drink the blood, Countess?” I asked.

She looked up with her blood stained teeth and smiled. “Never, or I should be a wanton vampiric creature and not the noble lady that I am.”

The irony of that remark did not cause her to smile, but made her look even wickeder if that was possible.

The hours passed and with them the barbarous torture of more young girls; girls that were bitten and stabbed. She had a variety of implements she used in her torture—like pincers that either she or a servant heated before their use.

Though I am ashamed to admit it, I must say the torture fascinated me. I could not move away, nor could I even turn my head.

Have you never looked at a train wreck or an overturned carriage? Most people have. There is, I fear, the beast in all of us.

She did offer me the dagger a couple of times; a handsome thing it was, too. I begged off, which caused her to laugh and call me a coward. Me! Rose, can you imagine being called such a name?

While this was happening, the servants had to keep coming in to remove each corpse. It seemed an unending task. At last, she looked exhausted. “I will talk to you now,” she said.

She began to tell me the most amazing things about how she was true to her husband more often than not. But there was more..."


99 cents, regularly $2.99


Wednesday, November 11, 2015


Pity, the new governess has no idea what is waiting for her at Blackstone House. 

"Unimaginable horror awaits you in The House on Blackstone Moor...

Rose Baines' journey into the dark begins with the murders of her family by her insane, incestuous father. Evil has found a way in, as has the world of the undead. Will she become one of them?

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 the first novel in Carole Gill's Blackstone Vampires Series. It is an epic tale of the eternal struggle of good vs. evil, and a story of love that strives to prevail, despite all odds.

The House on Blackstone Moor is a sure pick for fans of gothic horror novels and darkest vampire romance."
99 cents on promo!
or buy the entire box set for $3.99

BOX SET $3.99


2014 - Amazon Bestseller in Dark Fantasy

2015 - Amazon Bestseller in Vampire Horror

"92 Horror authors you need to read right now"

Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series
~Charlotte Books - EXAMINER

Top 10 Books - 2013
Aoife Marie Sheridan - ALL THINGS FANTASY
Publisher, Ultimate Fantasy Books 

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

."In the attempt to find the just measure of horror and terror, I came upon the writing of Carole Gill whose work revealed a whole new dimension to me. 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

Monday, November 9, 2015


Many of you know I am living through my own horror. It isn't easy and truthfully, the last thing I thought about doing were regular blog posts about my fiction. I did promote what my publisher had scheduled and I did that out of loyalty to him. So the question is, what about the future?

Inasmuch as I have a book that I finished before I left for that ill-fated vacation, I'm going to be getting that book over to my publisher. My husband read it and loved it. It's going to be dedicated to him.

It's about The Blood Countess, Erzsbet Bathory. It needs to be edited and will be in the Creativia line-up. It's something I can accomplish. It's baby stepping (as I've said before) back into writing. Writing is what I do. Heaven's sake, I'm not in it for the money, but I am in it for the love of writing. As writing is a discipline, I think it's going to be therapeutic for me to throw myself into it. I think it's the best activity I can pursue to avoid going crazy with grief. The grief is there it always will be. I understand about that. That's why I am going to work toward being positive and fill up my time as much as possible with something I enjoy doing.

So here goes. It's the first step back. Wish me luck, please!