the GRYPHON and his THIEF Halloween Spooktacular

Give a spooktacular welcome to Karen Michelle Nutt, author of The Gryphons and his Thief. 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 Karen and the Gryphon and his Thief. Take it away Karen! 

Ghost Girl by Karen Michelle Nutt
 
I have quite a few ghost stories I could conjure up for Halloween. It must be why I love the paranormal so much—it feels like home.
 
Today, I’d like to tell you about my family’s ghost girl. Everyone in my family has seen her at one time or another, and she wasn’t shy about revealing herself to friends.
 
This sighting took place when I was a teen. It was late at night, and my mother and I were the only ones still up. At this time, my father worked the graveyard and wasn’t home. My siblings were sleeping.
 
I was working on a report for school in the kitchen. My mother was in the bathroom taking a bath. She kept the door slightly ajar so we could chat.
 
As the minutes ticked by, I began to get this prickly feeling at the base of my neck, and I swear the fine hairs on my arm stood at attention. This feeling happened every time the little girl would make her ghostly appearance, and I knew it was about to happen again. I stood near the dining room table, my gaze locked on the dark archway leading to our den. Any second, I was sure she’d materialize. Usually, she was a fleeing figure in a light-colored dress. Her long hair was a pale blonde, and it would whip behind her as she darted away.
 
While I was concentrating on the endless black void that led to our den, my mother ran the water in the bathtub. “Who’s up with you?” she called to me.
 
Of course, no one was with me, or so I believe. “No one’s up, Mom,” I gladly inform her.
 
“I said, who’s up with you?” my mother repeated the question, but now her voice held an edge. 
 
She couldn’t hear that I answered her over the running water. My heart was already pounding in my ears with fright, and her question of ‘Who’s up with you?’ sent me toward panic mode. My mother could see someone in the kitchen with me, someone I couldn’t see. I backed up a few paces before I sprinted to the bathroom as if this ghostly presence was chasing me. 
 
“No one is up with me!” And I do believe I did a little fright dance, and my voice became a high-pitched shrill.
 
My mother’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I saw a hand reaching for you.”
 
She had been sure that one of my siblings had slipped out of bed. However, they were all fast asleep.
 
Even though I didn’t see the presence, I believe it was our resident ghost girl, who had appeared off and on throughout the years. She was the only consistent resident ghost at my parents’ home, but we’ve had others over the years, too. I sometimes wonder if she invites them over, telling them, “Hey, they’re a cool family. Come hang out with them for a while.”

 

The Gryphon and His Thief

 A gryphon shifter cursed for centuries encounters a thief who unearths his secret identity.  
 
Book Description: 
 
Darrien Andros, a gryphon sworn to protect humans is cursed to live forever, safeguarding the items in the Museum of Cursed Antiquities. His mundane life between the world of the living and turning to stone as the sun rises is disrupted when a thief attempts to steal Hecate’s Stone. He cannot eliminate her for her thieving ways. Not when she resembles his dead wife.
 
Cali Angelis, a thief for hire, needs Hecate’s stone for her client. Only Darrien makes her question her client’s motives. She’d like to think Darrien delusional, but she’s seen the unbelievable. 
 
Will they unravel the mysteries behind the stone before history repeats itself?
 
 

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/aXxcvKEDwO4

Amazon US      Amazon
UK     Barnes and Noble


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BookBub     GoodReads      The
Wild Rose Press

 

 

A sneak peek between the pages of the GRYPHON and his THIEF. 

“Get a grip,”
she warned herself. The gryphon didn’t blink his eyes. Yep, and it didn’t fly
from the back room and station itself at the door, either. She gulped and
leveled the beam of the flashlight on the statue once more. Only what stood
there now was a man, a large man with dark hair, a beard neat and trim…and eyes
that glowed like the gryphon’s eyes had.

“You cannot take
the item from the museum,” the man’s deep voice boomed with authority meant to
intimidate, and his words were flavored with a Greek accent. “You must return
it immediately,” he finished the threat. Sure there had been no threat voiced,
but she all but heard the ‘or else’ just as clearly as if the words had been
spoken.  

“Who are you?”
she countered, even though she had no right to inquire. Obviously, this man
must be the night guardsman. Her gaze slid over his attire and frowned. He wore
garments she’d only seen painted on Greek vases and paintings—an intricately
designed tunic, a dark colored cloak, and gold sandals adorned his feet. Her
one eyebrow lifted. Perhaps he was a thief who liked theatrics. She had an
uncle who liked to dress like a caped superhero when he went on his jobs.

She straightened
her back and met the guy’s gaze head on. “I think you need to leave, or I’ll
call the cops.” She pulled out her cell phone and lit up the screen to prove
her point. The guy didn’t have to know she was bluffing. She didn’t want the
cops here anymore than he probably did.

He didn’t quite
react the way she thought he would. Oh no, he had the audacity to laugh, a deep
guttural laugh. “You amuse me human woman,” he told her.

“Human woman?”
Okay, this nut-job was off his meds. “Fine, you stay here, and this human woman
will say good evening. It’s been a long day. I need to head back to my
spaceship before E.T. calls home and tells Mom and Dad I’m late.”  

The man’s brows
furrowed, deep creases marring his forehead. Maybe she loaded on the crapola a
little thick. It was best to end this conversation and get out of Africa—as her
father would say—and make like a cheetah on the hunt. She took a few cautious
steps toward the front door.

“You will halt,”
he demanded with his palm up as if his stance alone could stop her. 

Well, yep it
did, for a full three seconds. She knew some self-defense moves, but this guy
was built like he lifted weights in his sleep just so his bulk didn’t decrease
in the middle of the night. It didn’t appear like the front door was an option,
but… her gaze latched onto the window next to it. “Oh, hell.” She charged and
prayed this old building hadn’t been refurbished with safety glass.

Otherwise, this
stunt was really going to hurt.

 

About
the Author:


Karen Michelle Nutt resides in California with her husband. Though her three
children are grown and starting their own adventures, she still has a houseful
of demanding pets.


When she’s not time traveling, fighting outlaws, or otherworldly creatures, she
creates book covers at Gillian’s Book Covers, “Judge Your Book By Its
Cover”.
Whether your reading fancy is paranormal, time travel or contemporary romances,
all her stories capture the rich array of emotions that accompany the most
fabulous human phenomena—falling in love.

Visit the author at her website: http://www.kmnbooks.com


Blog: http://kmnbooks.blogspot.com

Gillian’s Book Covers, “Judge Your Book By Its Cover”
http://judgeyourbookbyitscover.blogspot.com

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


Twitter: https://twitter.com/KMNbooks


Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/karenmnutt

Amazon Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/Karen-Michelle-Nutt/e/B002BLLBPE

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


BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/karen-michelle-nutt


GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/karenmichellenutt

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/karenmichellenutt

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/kmnbooks

IMDb: https://tinyurl.com/yy27qubr

 

 

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