The Wantland Files by Lara Bernhardt

Give a Spooktacular welcome to Lara Bernhardt author of The Wantland FIles. Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron. Take your choice of a bat wing Chocolate Chip or Pumpkin, or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Lara Bernhardt and The Wantland Files. Plus Edgar Allan Poe’s Spirits of the Dead post for Halloween. Psst… don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter giveaway at the bottom of the post!

 

 

I remember thoroughly loving a book called It’s Halloween by Jack Prelutsky when I was little.

 
This is a book of poems, and that appreciation only increased the older I got. 
 
The works of Edgar Allan Poe intrigued me beginning in high school. I liked all his writing and was particularly fascinated with The Raven
 
His poem Spirits of the Dead is perhaps less well known, but perfect for Halloween:
 
Spirits of the Dead
By Edgar Allan Poe
 
Thy soul shall find itself alone
’Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone—
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy:
Be silent in that solitude
Which is not loneliness—for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee—and their will
Shall then overshadow thee: be still.
 
For the night—tho’ clear—shall frown—
And the stars shall look not down,
From their high thrones in the Heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given—
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee forever:
 
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish—
Now are visions ne’er to vanish—
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more—like dewdrop from the grass:
 
The breeze—the breath of God—is still—
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token—
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!

 

Laua tell us about The Wantland Files –   She sees dead people. He doesn’t believe in ghosts.

The X-Files meets Ghost Hunters when psychic Kimberly Wantland is forced to collaborate with skeptic Sterling Wakefield as she investigates a ghost terrorizing a young family in the season finale of her hit television series The Wantland Files.
Amazon
 

 

A sneak peek between the pages of The Wantland Files:

The frigid blast hit her, not a tidal wave
crashing over her, but an iceberg, solid and powerful. And furious.

The icy shock took her breath away. She
gasped.

The entity dropped from above and sailed
past, blowing her hair behind her.
Strong, warm hands grasped her arms, intent on steadying her. She shook free as
Drew screamed.

“I told you to stay with the boy!” She
crossed the room in three steps and knelt beside the toddler bed.

Drew no longer sat in the corner.

“Kimmy? What’s happening?” Michael called
from the door.

“Just keep recording! She’s here. She’s
powerful. Keep the cameras rolling.”

Danielle’s voice joined the fray. “What’s wrong?
Drew! What’s happening?”

“Stay in your room,” she commanded as
forcefully as she could with lungs chilled by the dark entity. “Stay with your
baby!”

Her fingers trembled as she searched the
bed. Every square inch of the miniature thing. Her chilled hands were not so
numb that they would miss a toddler’s body. Where was he?

Frantic and scared, she lost control of her
extrasensory perceptions. She stopped running her hands over the bed and held
still. Clutching her crystal, she breathed deeply. Where was the entity? Where
was the boy?



About the Author:

 
Lara Bernhardt is a Pushcart-nominated writer, editor, and audiobook narrator. She is Editor-in-Chief of Balkan Press and also publishes a literary magazine, Conclave. Twice a finalist for the Oklahoma Book Award for Best Fiction, she writes supernatural suspense and women’s fiction. 
 
You can follow her on all the socials @larawells1 on Twitter and @larabern10 on Facebook, BookBub, and Instagram. 
 
 
 
 
 



 

 

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It’s been great having you with us today.  Good luck with The Wantland Files 

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Witch of the Cards by Catherine Stine

Give a Spooktacular welcome to Catherine Stine author of Witch of the Cards. Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron. Take your choice of a bat wing Chocolate Chip or Pumpkin, or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Catherine Stine and her Witch of the Cards. Plus her Spooktacular Guest post for Halloween. Psst… don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter giveaway at the bottom of the post!

 

 
The allure of creepy, ramshackle beach towns as settings for dark fantasy
 
What is it exactly that makes edgy beach towns the perfect setting for sinister fantasy and historical suspense? I’ve always been attracted to the dark side, and particularly to strange beach towns. So far, I’ve set two novels in them.

When I first moved to New York City after college and a stint out west, you couldn’t tear me away from the dilapidated boardwalks of Coney Island. This was back before the arcade was renovated, back when the sideshow by the sea with its sword swallower and human pincushion were on full display. It was when a hungry, dirty capybara was caged in a box that read: Only $5 To See the Biggest Rat in the World! This poor critter was a plot point in Dorianna, my paranormal twist on Dorian Grey. And no surprise, I set Dorianna in Coney Island, and installed a sexy villain in Wilson Warren. He was an agent of the devil disguised as a videographer who prowled the beaches, making girls into viral Internet sensations for a very high price.

 Fast-forward to my novel Witch of the Cards, set in 1932, about Fiera, a sea witch who has a special talent with Tarot (and not just reading the cards). Of course,I set it in a shady shore town, in this case, Asbury Park, NJ. You see, I’ve been coming to this gentrifying coastal town for years and know it well—its sunny moods but also its spooky, moody shades.
 Around the turn of the century, and up until around 1945, Asbury Park used to be the stomping grounds of the glitterati. There were grand concerts in the art deco Convention Center, and people dressed to the nines would stroll on the boardwalk at night. Then came the race riots of the 1960s and the economic crash, and the place fell into major disrepair. Its only remaining claim to fame was The Stone Pony, where Bruce Springsteen rocked into the limelight.
 

About twenty-seven years ago, when I first ventured into the Asbury convention center, there was a huge hole in its roof that seagulls flew in and out of. And there was only one lonely saltwater taffy store on the boardwalk run by an ancient lady who seemed to have stepped out of a Stephen King novel. In Witch of the Cards the taffy sold in the shop has very odd effects, and I installed an illegal speakeasy in the taffy store basement. I turned the (actual) Paranormal Museum on CookwellAvenue into a place to hold séances that often went horribly wrong.

In Witch of the Cards, even the ocean hides terrible secrets.

 There’s something about the scent of saltwater and hotdogs, the splintered, salt-dried boardwalk and the scream of people hurtling down on the arcade rides that gets my blood charging and my imagination firing. What about you?
 
Here’s a snippet of a scene when Fiera and her date Peter venture down to the basement speakeasy in the taffy store:


 

 

“Perhaps I was far too gone, but I didn’t care. Peter and I danced and danced. The room filled with the overflow from the convention hall dance—young lovers, bootlegger types with wide ties and cigars, older women with twinkling earrings and heavy bosoms, even a prostitute or two. I thought so anyway, because they wore way too much rouge and came alone to sit brazenly up at the bar with the gin rummies.

This time I couldn’t say whether or not I stepped on Mr. Dune’s polished wingtips. This time, he probably couldn’t be sure if he knocked his bony legs into mine. We had many more nips of absinthe, and I wolfed down another green-swirl taffy and before I knew it, I was leaning provocatively against Peter and laughing like a wild banshee. 

 
I remember gaping up at him to see his black hair all disheveled and him mumbling indistinctly. And I, thinking that he was the most gorgeous human being I’d ever seen. I remember Dulcie grabbing one of my arms, and Peter grasping the other. I remember all of us howling at the crescent moon over the ocean, and the shocked sideways glance of the hotel proprietor as we all stumbled in. 
 
I recall pulling out the Tarot he’d given me, and laying them out on the bedroom rug. I recall babbling at him—about a witch and a swindler and a boat—not necessarily in that order. I can still picture his expression of shocked surprise but not at what.
 
And I remember Peter’s lips branding my forehead—how could I ever forget that—while shocks of his lush black hair dangled deliciously on my burning cheeks. The last thing I recall before things went dark was kicking off my shoes.”
 
Happy Season of the Witch,
Catherine Stine
 

 A little about Witch of the Cards – Fiera was born a sea witch with no inkling of her power. And now it might be too late. 

  
Witch of the Cards is a supernatural romantic suspense set in 1932 on the Jersey shore. Fiera has left the Brooklyn orphanage where she was raised and works in Manhattan as a nanny. She gets a lucky break when her boss pays for her vacation in Asbury Park. One evening, Fiera and her new friend Dulcie wander down the boardwalk and into Peter Dune’s Tarot & Séance, where they attend a card reading. 
 
Fiera has an unsettling ability to sense future events and people’s hidden agendas. She longs to either find out the origin of her powers or else banish them because as is, they make her feel crazy. When, during the reading, her energies somehow bond with Peter Dune’s and form an undeniable ethereal force, a chain of revelations and dangerous events unspool. 
 
For one, Fiera finds out she is a witch from a powerful sea clan, but that someone is out to stop her blossoming power forever. And though she is falling in love with Peter, he also has a secret side. He’s no card reader, but a private detective working to expose mediums. Despite this terrible betrayal, Fiera must make the choice to save Peter from a tragic Morro Cruise boat fire, or let him perish with his fellow investigators. Told in alternating viewpoints, Fiera and Peter each struggle against their deep attraction. Secrets, lies, even murder, lace this edgy fantasy. 
 
From Lovers of Paranormal: “Interesting story of witches, deceit, secrets, romance and friendship. Fun and creative.”
 

Amazon     Amazon
UK
     Amazon
CA
     Amazon
AU

iBooks      Kobo      BN      

 

A sneak peek between the pages of Witch of the Cards:

If I only had a
week in this glorious beach town, I wanted to catch up with sleep and plunge
into as many escapades as possible—even bewildering, outlandish ones.

We walked in, to
the jangle of Mr. Dune’s door chimes. I skated around, ogling the
floor-to-ceiling shelves brimming with leather-bound books on cosmic mysteries,
spiritualism, and witchcraft. Two immediate standouts were Ten Ways to Practice Mentalism and Dona Bella, Memoirs of a Southern Witch. These were my fare,
similar to a favorite book at the public library—a tome on dark magic. The most
stirring part was about each witch dynasty having its own grimoire, a sort of
magical recipe book. I had no clue as to why dark tales tickled me so, and
often wondered about my taste.

Still, I read
everything I could get my hands on, even boring books that drifted me right off
to the Land of Nod. At my nanny job, I was so desperate for stories I even read
the tedious articles about cooking and how to throw a proper cocktail party in
Mrs. Cuthbert’s Reader’s Digest and Home Arts magazines.

 Mr. Dune strode toward us. His handsome aura
and towering presence intimidated yet thrilled me. He was dressed in crisp,
charcoal gray pants and a vest with a double-breasted pinstriped jacket. “Are
you lovely ladies here for the séance?” He held out a long, elegant hand, studded
with a silver ring. I barely collected my wits enough to shake it and nod.
Dulcie’s hand whooshed out and hardly touched his before she clamped it
protectively back to her side.

No doubt about
it, he was the most striking man I’d ever seen. His thick mop of dark hair
tapered into long sideburns, rendering his jawline a tad dangerous. I guessed
he was in his mid-twenties. When his coffee-brown eyes gleamed at me, my breath
caught, and a heat greater than any moonshine fired through me.

We paid the dime
admission. He escorted us to a round, wooden table with lion-footed legs where
we joined a heavyset older couple and a reedy gentleman with thin, blond hair.
His lime-fizz eyes darted over to Dulcie, and then away. Two empty chairs still
beckoned.

Dulcie looked
terrified, so I smiled at her. She calmed enough to take a seat.

Mr. Dune strode
to the window, loosened the crimson curtains, and lowered their heavy velvet
over the windows, lending the already-pensive storefront a mystical aura. 

 

About the Author:

Catherine Stine is a USA Today bestselling
author of paranormal, urban and historical fantasy. Witch of the Wild Beasts won a second prize in the Romance Writers
of America’s Sheila Contest. Other novels have earned Indie Notable awards and
New York Public Library Best Books. She lives in New York State and grew up in
Philadelphia. Before writing novels, she was a painter and fabric designer.
She’s a visual author and sees writing as painting with words. Catherine loves
spending time with her beagle Benny, writing about supernatural creatures,
gardening and meeting readers at book fests.

Learn more at catherinestine.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/crossoverwriter

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kitsy84557/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kitsy84557

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@catherinestine7

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorcatherinestine

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/catherine-stine

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1018139.Catherine_Stine

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Catherine-Stine/e/B001H9TXJC

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiYPFXTOO0EQ2XRW72PJiyw

Newsletter: https://catherinestine.com/wp/get-the-newsletter-contact-me/

 

 

 

 

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It’s been Spooktacular having you with us today.  Good luck with Witch of the Cards!

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Trick or Treat Book Bonanza & Haunted Halloween Spooktacular

Trick or Treat Book Bonanza & Haunted Halloween Spooktacular! What a way to burst into October!

October is here and it’s one of my favorite times of the year. There is a chill in the crisp autumn air, the swirling leaves are red, yellow, and orange. Most of all, I have an excuse to binge-eat Halloween candy/chocolate, especially candy corn! As the wind howls around my house, I love to curl up in front of the fireplace with a good book.

Tis the month to celebrate all things paranormal, supernatural, suspenseful and mystical. If you’re like me, you’ll want to accept this very special invitation to join the festivities at N. N. Light’s Book Heaven’s 3rd annual Trick or Treat Book Bonanza. 27 authors share what they’d dress up as for Halloween as well as 32 books featured plus a chance to win one of the following:

One lucky reader will win a $75 Amazon (US) gift card.

I’m thrilled to be a part of this event. My book, A Witch’s Journey, will be featured on Monday, October 18, 2021. Wait until you read what my Halloween costume would be. You won’t want to miss it.

Bookmark this event and tell your friends:

https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/trick-or-treat-book-bonanza

 

I’m also participating in Bewitching Blog Tours Spooktacular Giveaway.  Several best selling authors have joined together to offer books, audiobooks, gift certificates and numerous other prizes!  Don’t miss out, follow my Spooktacular tour and register to win at each stop the fantastic prizes.

October 11 The Book Junkie Reads
https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blogspot.com/October 12 Supernatural Central
http://supernaturalcentral.blogspot.comOctober 13 Lisa’s World of Books
http://www.lisasworldofbooks.net/October 14 JB’s Bookworms with Brandy Mulder
https://jbbookworms.blogspot.comOctober 15 I Smell Sheep
http://www.ismellsheep.com/

October 18 Bewitching Book Tours
https://bewitchingbooktours.tumblr.com/

October 19 Westveil Publishing
https://www.westveilpublishing.com

October 20 Serena Synn
https://serenasynn.blogspot.com/

October 21 Fang-tastic Books
http://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com

October 22 Paranormalists
https://paranormalists.blogspot.com/

October 25 Roxanne’s Realm
http://www.roxannerhoads.com/

October 26 The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom
http://creativelygreen.blogspot.com/

October 27 Jazzy Book Reviews
http://bookreviewsbyjasmine.blogspot.com/

October 28 Sapphyria’s Books
https://saphsbooks.blogspot.com/

October 29 Booklikes
http://roxannerhoads.booklikes.com/

Do you know what Samhainophobia is?  Something I’ve never had, a fear of Halloween! LOL 

 

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A Demon’s Embrace by Celia Breslin

Give a Spooktacular welcome to Celia Breslin author of A Demon’s Embrace. Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron. Take your choice of a bat wing Chocolate Chip or Pumpkin, or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Celia Breslin and A Demon’s Embrace. Plus  Bumped by the Banshee, Halloween Flash Fiction. Psst… don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter giveaway at the bottom of the post!

 

 

 

Happy Halloween Month, Everyone! For
Halloween every year, I like to share my favorite spooky story from my family’s
arsenal of tales about the Fae. In this one, my Irish grandmother recounts her
personal encounter with a Banshee when she was a teenager. Enjoy!

Bumped by the Banshee

by Celia Breslin

… I lived in a large two-story house with my
parents, younger sister, and grandmother. It was a cold, winter evening,
nothing special or out of the ordinary. My family dined together, then my
sister and I cleaned up while our parents and grandmother drank tea. We joined
them at the dining table to do our homework, but my grandmother said she was
tired and went upstairs to bed. My parents followed shortly after that, but my
father paused on the landing.

“Maeve, it’s going to be a cold night. Fetch
us some coal, please.”

I abandoned my homework, grabbed the empty
coal bucket from the kitchen, and went down into the cellar. I filled my bucket
and returned to the stairs. I had one foot on the first step when the
temperature in the cellar, already cold, dropped dramatically. Chills ran down
my back. Behind me, someone moaned.

But how could that be? I was alone…

Terror rooted me to the spot. The keening
grew louder. I dropped my bucket and covered my ears. A cold wind bumped
against my back. I stumbled forward as the shrieking wind rushed over me and up
the stairs.

But how could that be? The cellar had no
windows…

Above me, the cellar door slammed shut. The
sound broke me from my stupor. I screamed and ran up the stairs and out of the
cellar, through the kitchen and dining room, and up the stairs to my room. My
parents and sister found me under my bed, shaking like a puppy lost in a
snowstorm.

“Maeve! Maeve! What is it? What’s wrong?”
They asked me, while pulling me from my hiding place.

“I heard the Banshee wail.”

We stared at each other in silence, all of us
reaching the same conclusion moments later. We hurried to my grandmother’s
room.

She was dead.

(Copyright 2021,
Celia Breslin. All rights reserved.)

 

 

 

 

 

A Demon’s Embrace

Cupid Dating Agency 
Book Four
 
She believes him the enemy. He’s determined to prove her wrong.
Former relic-hunter and soldier for Hell, Stryker spends his days of redemption running a holiday store in a cheery little town in the California wine country. He’s not complaining. The gig puts him across the street from his one and only heart’s desire—a blue-eyed angel with a clever brain, a hot bod, and the wickedest right hook this side of Heaven. Too bad his delectable Angel Cake won’t give him the time of day.
Warrior-class angel and restaurateur, Zara keeps busy designing interesting foods and beverages for the eateries and gym she owns with her celestial teammates. She certainly has zero time or interest in the annoyingly sexy, darkly bronzed demon who drove her bonkers for eons while working for the other side.
But then a freak storm complete with hell beasties rampages their hometown, and God and the cupids order the pair to team up to investigate. Frustrating news for Zara. Fantastic for Stryker. His new mission? Show his feisty angel their partnership is meant to extend far beyond this one job for Heaven…
Buy links for A Demon’s Embrace 

Amazon US       Angus
and Robertson
      Apple
Books

BN
Kobo       Scribd
Vivlio

 

 

 

A sneak peek between the pages of A Demon’s Embrace:

Stryker and Zara’s First Kiss…

Location: Charon’s boat, River Styx, the
Underworld…

..The boat heaved upward
as if struck from below, sending her airborne. Before she could conjure her
wings, Stryker shot up and snatched her around the waist, hauling them both to
the deck.

Flat on his back with her
sprawled atop his hard body, he grinned, much too pleased with himself for her
liking. “Told you it gets rough,” he shouted over the rush of water. “I never
lie to you, Angel Face.”

“That in itself is a
lie,” she shot back, wedging her fingers in the gaps between the bone flooring
and gripping tight while the chopping river tossed their ride. She could list
thousands of his deceptions. Fine, they were revisiting his loathsome past
behavior. “What about the time you stole the Ark of the Covenant? Or the Holy
Chalice? The Vatican heist? Or when you took Joan’s sword and—”

“Aw, c’mon, she deserved
it. She cut off the tip of my wing.”

“It regenerated, and you
had no right to bother her in the first place when she was busy saving—

“Hey, I gave it back.”

“I made you give it back,
demon.”

He laughed but the sound
was lost in the great roar of the river. Its turmoil increased, waves thrashing
over the bow as if their presence angered the river.

“Buckle up, baby.”
Stryker held her tight to his chest. The boat bucked upward and bashed down,
again and again. Freezing water sprayed everywhere, drenching them in seconds.
Zara shuddered, chilled to the bone, half expecting ice to form on her frame.

Cheek to cheek, Stryker
clutched her close with a hand cupping her head and one massive arm banded
around her torso. “Hang on Angel Cake, I’ve got you.” Warmth slid into her
quivering body, a soothing heat wafting from the demon. “Nice trick, right?” he
murmured into her ear, lips grazing her skin.

Teeth chattering, she
didn’t reply, too caught up in the sensation of his surprisingly soft lips on
the shell of her ear, and his spicy scent, an intriguing blend of cardamom,
cinnamon, and earthy, masculine musk.

Desire danced through
her, followed fast by denial. No. Please, no. Eternal enemy. Archnemesis. He’s
the bad guy. But her libido didn’t seem to care one bit about their
battle-filled past, or even their more recent clashes. Her treacherous body
relaxed against his, basking in the continued warmth emanating from him.

“Yes, baby. That’s it.”
His hand slid to her nape, and he exhaled against the sensitive skin of her
neck, setting off a flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

Trap. This had to be a
trap, right? Nothing good could come of a tryst with a demon. It didn’t matter
how loudly the hum chimed in her, or how wonderful his hard body felt under
hers, they couldn’t possibly—

Oh, no, now his clever
fingers kneaded the knots in her muscles, massaging the tension from her neck
and shoulders, making her melt.

His warm lips brushed her
ear once again. “Angel…”

She should stop him.
Really, she should. Then he nuzzled the hollow of her shoulder, and his soft
kisses eroded her superego’s usual iron will. […] Maybe, if she explored the
cosmic hum trying to call them together instead of running from it, she would
discover it meant nothing at all. Maybe, she could simply kiss him and move on.

She turned her head. He
stilled, one hot palm planted between her shoulder blades, the other lounging
on her lower back, his mouth so close their breath mingled. Goose bumps tracked
over her and not from the cold since she had Stryker as her personal space
heater.

Zara didn’t dare look
into his eyes, instead digging deep one last time to stop this insanity,
dredging up reasons this was a bad idea. Demon. D’uh. Longtime foe. Brash,
blunt, devious, conniving, opinionated, manipulative, flirtatious, and yes,
flirting was bad, so very, very ba—

[…] Lord help her, she
wanted him too. Her gaze clashed with his. Such pretty eyes for a demon, like
black onyx flecked with amber. He went statue-still beneath her, seemed to be
holding his breath now, waiting for her to…

Make a move?

She wrapped a lock of his
shoulder-length hair around her finger. Damp from the crashing river. Shiny,
deepest black. Silky, and as warm as his body. She tugged on it.

A groan escaped him, and
he kissed her.

 

 

About the Author:

Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for werewolves, vampires, and the Fae. When not writing, you’ll find Celia exercising, reading a good book, hanging with her family, or indulging her addiction to fantasy TV shows and movies.

Website: http://www.celiabreslin.com   

Blog: http://www.celiabreslin.com/blog/   

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/celiabreslin
 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CeliaBreslinAuthor
  
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/CeliaBreslin
 
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/celiabreslin/
 
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/celiabreslin/

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/bxqwRL

 

 

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It’s been great having you with us today.  Good luck with A Demon’s Embrace!

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