Eleventh Day of Creepfest

On the Eleventh Day of Creepfest, My True Love Gave To Me



Eleven Vampires Lunching
Ten Trolls a Trolling
Nine Ghouls a Haunting
Eight Witches Brewing
Seven Psychos Slashing
Six Demon Soldiers
Five Creepy Dolls!
Four Werewolves Howling
Three French Fried Eyeballs
Two Corpses Walking
And a Zombie Hanging From A Christmas Tree






It has been a busy and stressful week. I missed my last 2 posts, but I still have several contests going. There is still time to win an autographed copy, (my autograph) of Satan’s Toybox: Demonic Dolls and also one of Satan’s Toybox: Toy Soldiers. (When it comes out.) If you do win and don’t feel comfortable giving out an address to have the book mailed to, you can opt to receive the e-book instead, but since I don’t have kindlegraph, it will not be autographed. Click on the links to enter each one.






I am also giving away 5 copies of The Massacre Before Christmas and Other Cryptmas Tales and a $15.00 Amazon Gift Card. Rules are here.

Now, a short story.

Believe

by Lisa McCourt Hollar

"Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings."

The words echoed in my head, over and over as I fell. Tia's voice had always been like music. Now it sung to me like a choir of angels and I laughed...or would have if I wasn't currently screaming on my way to the hard concrete below.

My plummet down the rabbit hole came as a result of my being overly curious. I just had to follow Linda and find out what she was up to. The resulting confrontation had resulted in my being thrown from the top of Graystone Manor.

"It seems curiosity does kill the cat."

This voice was deep, cutting through my thoughts like a serrated knife. I recognized Lucus, Linda's lover. How long was this free fall going to take and was it going to be subject to every weirdo I had met, since discovering Jayne was alive?

My best friend. A vampire! And me, a Spirit Glider. At least that is what Tia said. And her request for my assistance to help protect this strange world that connected to the real world had led me to Graystone Manor.

But I was just a human. I can't protect anyone. Sage was wrong. I couldn't be a Glider.

"Sage, believe."

Tia's voice broke my paralysis. What she said was impossible. But so was what she was. So maybe I could...

And just like that I stopped falling...and I flew.

Word Count: 250

Schitzophrenic Characters

Today is the Second Tuesday Blog Hop and I am woefully behind. My laptop has died and my only means to write at the moment is on paper or my phone browser...which does not have a spell check. For this, I will need to apologise. I am dyslexic and my spelling sometimes can be seriously lacking. I will be annoying my husband in a few moments when I ask him for spelling suggestions. He has joked that he thinks I only married him so as to have a walking dictionary at my disposal. Hmmm...well, it does come in handy at times.

Todays Second Tuesday prompt is How We Create The Characters We Love. I'm not sure this is going to be an easy prompt for me. The creative process isn't that cut and dry and my characters come from various aspects of my life and from people I observe. Sometimes my character will embody traits that I wish I had, kicking ass and serving justice. Other times my character may be so flawed, the reader will wonder how they even can look at themselves in the mirror.

Quite often my characters talk to me, telling me their story and asking...no, demanding, that I tell the world their tale. If you are a writer, you know what I am saying when I say my characters talk to me. If you are not, well then you are probably scratching your head and saying to yourself, ''Did she just say her characters talk to her?'' Yes, that is what I said, so if it helps you, feel free to consider me schizophrenic.

''Did you just hear her Bob? She said she's schizo. Back away real slow and maybe the voices won't tell her to hurt us.''

''Ethel, she didn't say she was schizo, she said to feel free to consider her schizophrenic. There is a difference.''

Yes Bob, there is a difference. Thank you for explaining that too...

''Well I don't see the difference. A person says she hears voices in her head and stands there talking to herself isn't normal. They're schizo. Hell, we've read your work. Axe murderers, psychos, zombies, vampires, werewolves and cannibals. CANNIBALS for Pete's sake. You aint normal. Trust me, it's scary living in your mind!''

Ok, well first off Ethel, I am not standing here talking to myself. I am writing a blog post about how my characters are created. On my phone I might add. It's not an easy thing to do. This qwerty board is small. But I am trying. You are the one that jumped in on this, which I might add is rather rude since you and Bob aren't even characters that I have written about.

'' Yeah, what is that about anyway, Miss Writer Thing? Bob and I aren't good enough to write about but that...that SLUT is?!?''

Slut? Ethel I think you are confused. I don't write that kind of...

''Linda.''

''OOOh I like Linda!''

''Put your tongue back in your mouth Bob!''

Oh, well Ethel, Linda is a key part of my novel. She's not really a slut. She's...

"A whore."

I prefer confused. Anyway Ethel, you don't want to be a part of that story. They're vampires. I'm going to write a story for you and Bob that doesn't have vampires.

"What about Linda? Can it have Linda?"

Bob, please...

"Our own story? You promise?"

Yes Ethel, I promise.

"Well why didn't you say so in the first place? You could have saved us a lot of time. Come on Bob, let's go to bed."

"But I wanted to stick around in case Linda showes up. Last time I saw her she showed me her..."

"I SAID LET'S GO TO BED!"

"Yes dear." *If Linda shows up, tell her to feel free to bite me anytime*

"BOB!"

Sorry about that, but I did warn you that my characters talk to me. Bob and Ethel...well they are mild compared to some of the voices. Linda for instance. Has a daddy complex. Now before anyone starts trying to psycho analyze that, let me say her daddy is James, my MC in The Legends Of Graystone and she wants to, well, be closer to him than any daughter should. She is pure evil. I know I said confused, but I was being kind.

So now you know the truth about my characters. I didn't create them, but rather they created themselves. They hound me day and night, refusing to give me a moments peace until I put pen to paper and tell the world their story.

Insane? Probably. Scary? Definetly. Try saying no to Linda. She'll take a bite out of you...

"I could only hope."

"Shut up you old coot!"

I suspect this may be the case with most writers. No one sane would ever write. It is a painful process that invlolves exposing your soul and in most cases, ripping open a vein and letting the blood flow.

"Did I hear someone say blood?"

It is both terrible and beautiful and for the most part I love it.

"Where's the blood?"

"Linda, is that you?"

"Bob, get back to bed!"

But seriously, the voices are driving me crazy.