First, I’d love to thank Cynthia for allowing me to be a guest on her blog today.

I have this thing that I like. For as far back as I can remember I enjoy movies, books or tales of spook or horror. Tales that make you stay up at night listening for that bump in the night. Make you pulse pound and you wonder what is around the next corner. All the things that make you shiver. I love to shiver.

In my opinion there are different degrees of shivering.

Slight shiver – this is the one, which only gives me a little thrill. A little tingle that feathers my hair.

Body Shiver – the body shakes, your heart pounds, sweat breaks out and you start looking around to see what is lurking waiting for you.

Shiver so hard my teeth rattle and I drop on my knees – this is when you hands shake, heart feels like it is coming out of your chest, you are sweating and wondering if that sound you heard is for real.

I can go on and on about all sort of shivers but I’ll leave at the few above. When you tell someone to make me shiver it can be taken many way. It can be sexy, scary or spooky. All those shivers can encompass so many emotions. One shiver can tell a story of how a person is feeling. The movement in it self is it’s own story. It’s amazing how much you can learn from a shiver.

Being October and the month of spooky I am looking for the scare me type. This is when there are lots of scary movies on TV. The time I pull out my favorite horror and thriller books. When I look forward to the decoration and so on. In all of them I am looking for that shiver that makes your hair stand on edge. Then you laugh in that uneasy way. Put your hands over your eyes and watch with fingers sprawled. And wonder why I let myself be scared like this.

I love it. After all it’s all about making me shiver.

CONTEST: Share with me things that make you shiver. One commenter will win a chance to choose one pdf download of any one book from my available e-book backlist. One winner chosen from the comments below! Contest will end on 10/25/10 at 11:59pm EST. I’ll post the winner at the top of this blog post on 10/26/10. Be sure to check back.

Good luck!

****

Taige Crenshaw is a multi-published author with books available at Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Liquid Silver Books, Loose Id, and Total-E-Bound. Taige has been enthralled with the written word from time she picked up her first book. It wasn’t long before she started to make up her own tales of romance. With novels set in today, in alternate dimensions, or in the future she writes with adventure, fun sassy heroine’s, and sexy hero’s. Always hard at work creating new and exciting places Taige can be found curled up with a hot novel with exciting characters when she is not creating her own. Join her in the fun, frolic, interesting people and far reaches of the world in her novels. You can find out more about Taige at her website: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com or blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog.

Thanks to the uber fabulous Cynthia for inviting me to blog during this wickedly fun time of year!  I love Halloween.  Something about the cooler weather after such harsh temperatures and 100% humidity for several months.

I can still vividly recall walking down my street along with dozens of other kids as we went from house to house trick-or-treating.  There were parents holding flashlights and making sure no one ran off, but not once did I think anything bad could – or would – happen.  It was a night full of fun and scares, a night when things that go bump in the night are supposed to be out.

And every year my mother dressed me up in the same thing – a gypsy costume used with whatever we had around the house.  I loved it at first, but by the third year I was so tired of it I refused to go out unless we could do something different.  She gave in, but she wasn’t happy.

To her, costumes were meant to be something to put together from what was on hand, not store bought.

Fast forward to today…

Boy, how things have changed.  I don’t like my kids going trick-or-treating to houses and people I don’t know.  I’ve read the newspaper and seen the reports on TV.  I know the freaks out there.

As much as I want my kids to have fun, I want them to be safe.

But I think it would be really neat if my kiddos could know what it was like for me during Halloween.  Walking along the semi-darkened streets with my friends all dressed up, seeing if our neighbors could tell who was who beneath the costumes, and most of all seeing how much candy we could get.

What is your favorite Halloween memory?

I’ll be giving away a copy of the second book in my Dark Sword series, FORBIDDEN HIGHLANDER to a commenter.

To find out more about me, check www.DonnaGrant.com.  To find out more about the Dark Sword series, see pics of the Warriors, take the quiz, search the characters, or see the book trailers, check www.donnagrant.com/darksword.

hugs,

D

First up, thanks so much to Cynthia for inviting me to stop by!

When I was very young, I saw a book at the library called Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. The whole concept scared me so badly that not only didn’t I read the silly thing, I was completely freaked out for weeks. Eventually when I read it, years later, gathering my courage like a blanket around my shoulders, I was heartily disappointed. Whether or not it would’ve scared my younger self was no longer an issue. All I knew was that the build-up of fear hadn’t been worth it.

Years later I became somewhat of a daredevil when it came to scary things. Roller coasters, monster movies, bad boys on motorcycles… Yeah, that was me. I even up and moved to England for a year, all alone, and dragged home a husband. The immortality of youth made it easy.

But all that changed when I had my first daughter in late October of 2002. My fears morphed into very concrete, very pinpoint terrors that focused on her well-being. Suddenly movies like 21 Grams, in which Naomi Watts loses two young daughters to a car crash, became my A-No-1 horror scenario. Unlike deciding one day that Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark isn’t so scary after all, I don’t think this particular child-based fear is going anywhere. Add to it a second daughter the following year, and you have the key to breaking me into cold sweats.

The crazy reality of life is terrifying enough, which is probably why I don’t go for scary movies that are possible. Saw, Hostel, and other “kidnapped by random crazy dude” tales just leave me frozen. It could happen. No thanks. I have enough horror show possibilities in my head without heaping on newer, more grisly images.

Instead I much prefer the good old fashioned monster movies that used to scare me as a child. Give me Aliens or Pitch Black any day, where people blow up mindless creatures. Sure favorite characters might be lost, but that’s the glory of well-crafted, suspenseful storytelling. It makes me feel something real even in an outrageous scenario. That little safety cushion of knowing it could never happen to me and mine that keeps it from being too scary to endure.

So bring on 28 Days Later and The Descent. Give me Dawn of the Dead and The Ring. They don’t bug me. But if you want to watch a gross-fest like The Hills Have Eyes or a family rip-your-hear-out tearjerker like Reservation Road or The Ice Storm, I’m afraid I’ll have other plans!

And all of this leads me to a little discussion about the nature of personal fear. I’ve identified mine. All the rest? Like going for what I want with regard to my career, or putting myself out there professionally? How is that scary? It’s certainly not harm coming to my family. Maybe that realization–the difference between real and imagined fears–helped me finally make a concerted effort toward publication. I started seriously in 2006, about three years after my second daughter was born.

Because compared to any of that, what do I have to lose? Another rejection…poor sales…a professional setback… None of it phases me anymore. I guess in the end, any reservations I had about those terrors became as harmless as the book I couldn’t read as a child. I grew up, got some perspective, and conquered those fears.

What about you? Anything terrify you now that didn’t before? Or fears you used to harbor that have since moved on? I’d love to know what makes you hide your eyes! I’ll draw a random commenter to win a copy of my latest, SONG OF SEDUCTION, available as a digital download from Carina Press. It’s all about people who face their biggest fears…and no monsters or crazy killers in sight.

It’s pretty much a given that the seeds of Halloween originated with the Celts and their celebration of Samhain. The Celts believed that the veil between this world and the next was thinnest at this time of year. They believed that friends and relatives who had died would often return, with their souls inhabiting an animal – often a black cat. Black cats have remained a symbol of Halloween all the way until now.

Once of the Celtic customs involved going door to door asking for food to be donated to their deities. And young Celts would ask for wood to be burned on a hill top to celebrate Samhain and further honor their gods. These are two of the possible origins of Halloween’s Trick or Treating.

When I was a kid, I wanted to dress up as something different every Halloween. One year a black cat, the next a hula girl, one time a princess — I suppose I was like the children now who want to dress up as whatever movie or tv icon catches their imagination. My brother and I would race from door to door yelling Trick or Treat with our long-suffering mother trailing behind but keeping a careful eye on her own little gremlins. At the end of our neighborhood canvassing, we’d return home, examine our loot and proceed to stuff ourselves until Mom put a stop to it.

All too soon, I considered myself too old to run door to door begging for candy and dressed as something I most definitely was not. When my daughter was born, I considered dressing up while I escorted her but none of the other mothers in the ‘hood did and my sense of conformity kept me from doing it.

What a shame.

Halloween is one of the last childhood institutions that actively encourages imagination. And what better way to do it than running through crisp Fall leaves on a cool night yelling at neighbors to give those sweet candy bribes or risk getting windows soaped or trees decorated with TP?

That is…unless you’re a writer. Or someone who likes strange, possibly frightening tales.

HEARTSTONE EXCERPT

The ringing phone jarred Keriam out of a sound sleep.

She bolted upright, heart pounding and groped for the handset.

“Hello?”

No one answered.

Her heart continued to pound.

“Hello?” she repeated. For a second, she thought she heard

breathing and an uneasy tendril snaked down her spine. She’d had

a number of these no-answer calls in the last few days. Normally,

they didn’t bother her.

This one did. She hung up.

Too awake to fall back asleep, Keriam swung her legs out of the

bed, feet hitting the cold floor. She’d been locking the doors lately,

though she didn’t remember doing it. Probably another facet of her

episodes, another sign she was losing her mind. Still it wouldn’t hurt

to check them just to make sure.

And she could check on Wolfgang. Having a huge dog gave her

a sense of safety. Not that she expected to keep him, but she might

think about getting a dog of her own. She stared at the telephone

for a moment, then stood.

She rubbed her eyes, then, without turning on the lights, went

into the hallway. The quiet house had an empty feeling, as if she was

totally alone. That couldn’t be. Not with Wolfgang in the kitchen.

Still, she advanced slowly, using all her senses to detect anything

out of the ordinary. Moonlight shone through the living room

window and she paused, looking out into the front yard. Nothing

there. Turning, she tiptoed into the kitchen, the same eerie feeling of

emptiness hitting her again. This time, she flipped on the overhead

light. The dog wasn’t there. “Wolfgang?”

Quickly, she checked the living room although she already knew

it was empty. A growing urgency had her race through the rest of

the house checking under tables, behind furniture. She didn’t find

him. She ended on the back porch, shivering in the cool night air

and looking out over the fallow field between her house and her

neighbor’s. “Wolfgang!”

She couldn’t see much past the glow from her doorway and

stepped farther into the shadows to let her eyes adjust to the dark. Her

toes brushed against a leathery object and she picked up his collar.

Somehow, Wolfgang had gotten out. Or been let out.

She whirled, looking back into her kitchen.

No, Wolfgang would have barked if there’d been an intruder.

She was sure of that. And she would have seen anyone who’d come

inside. She pressed her teeth onto her bottom lip, confused. Worried.

The door had been closed. Locked.

How had he gotten out?

It didn’t matter. She had to find him. He was her responsibility.

She raced inside to get dressed.

Within minutes, she thundered down the stairs and headed to

the kitchen door. Wolfgang had probably gone into the woods out

back. A big dog like him, he’d enjoy chasing the small herd of deer

or the raccoons or possums. She hoped he didn’t find the skunks

though. She didn’t have enough tomato juice for that.

A sudden banging on her front door had her nearly leap out of

her skin. Then she realized it had to be Mr. Mountley. The old man

knocked like he was driving nails with his fist. He’d probably caught

Wolfgang nosing around the emu pens. She hoped Wolfgang hadn’t

gotten injured by the big, mean-tempered birds. She whipped the

door open preparing to thank Mr. Mountley and scold the big dog.

“Marc?” Surprise made her step back.

Marc jerked, sweat sheening his face. His hair curled in damp

tendrils on his forehead and his eyes looked fever bright. He made

a moaning sort of noise and leaned unsteadily on the doorframe.

“Are you all right?” Keriam pushed the screen door open

without thinking. Then took another look at him. Something in his

expression sent an uneasy shiver up her spine. Something’s wrong

here, she thought. Something’s off. She hesitated, then years of

country-manners kicked in. “Come in, Marc. It’s freezing outside.

Is something wrong? Is that why you came by?”

He moved like a marionette, stiff and loose at the same time. As

he walked past her, the rank odor from his body was overpowering.

She drew back, startled. Marc had always been fastidious.

He was obviously ill. Maybe drunk. But she didn’t smell alcohol.

Marc’s gaze whipped around the living room but he didn’t move. He

simply stood there as if trying to figure out what to do next. She felt

heat pouring off his body. Not drunk, sick. The thought didn’t ease

her slowly tightening nerves.

Marc took a ragged step forward, followed by another. He approached

the family portraits hanging above the stone hearth. Keriam

watched, puzzled, as he stared at Meredith’s picture. Her mother’s

red-gold hair gleamed in the autumn sunshine. Keriam moved behind

him. “What is it, Marc?”

He stilled at the sound of her voice. His hand trembled as he

rested it on the mantle just below Meredith’s photograph.

“Meredith I’sadhe.”

A chill traced over her skin at the quiet menace in his voice.

“Ezahdhee? What does that mean?”

Marc turned, ignoring her question. The ravening hunger in

his eyes seared her. She backed away as he grinned, a feral baring of

teeth. Ruthlessly, she shoved her uneasiness aside—this was Marc,

her ex-fiancé—and crossed her arms over her chest. But still… “Marc,

I think you should go.”

He took a step toward her. She retreated again.

“You’re not well, are you?” Her voice quavered and she hated it.

He took another halting step closer, closer.

http://www.mundania.com/book.php?title=Heartstone

Trade Paperback
240 pages
$13.95
978-1-60659-233-5

eBook
$4.99
978-1-60659-232-8

Eric d’Ebrur is out of time. He must find the legendary Heartstone and
fulfill the ancient Gar’Ja bond he shares with the Stonebearer. But
when he finds her, he discovers that love can be more dangerous than
the Gawan threat. Eric can defeat the mind-controlling Gawan but will
it cost him the woman he loves?

After terrifying episodes of hypersensitivity, Keriam Norton thinks
she’s losing her mind. When handsome shapeshifter Eric d’Ebrur saves
her from the monstrous Gawan, she’s sure of it. But insane or not,
she’ll find the Heartstone and, if she’s lucky, a love to last a
lifetime.

Heartstone is also available on Amazon.com

GIVEAWAY: If you join or are a member of my newsletter group, send me an email with Don’t Open The Door in the subject line, and your snail mail address in the body, I’ll enter you in a drawing for a ‘Heartstone’ necklace of your very own.

Email me at Lynda@LyndaKScott.com

Deadline: Friday, Oct 29

My alien kitten, Wookie, will assist me in picking a winner (she likes bribes but I insist the drawing must stay honest, so no bribes please, lol). I’ll announce the winner on my newsletter group.

I love contact with my readers and there’s lots of ways to stay in touch with me. The best way is to join my newsletter, a non-chat yahoo group, with a low volume. Hope to see you there!
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