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Andrew's horror novella, 'The Bathtub', is now available.

Tuesday, 24 September 2013

Take an Autumn Train Ride Blog Hop


Do you have a favorite fall memory linked to a train? What do you imagine you would see if you were riding a train in the fall? Join the authors of Wild CHild publishing and Freyas Bower as we Take an Autumn Train Ride through our blogs.
Prizes will include
  • Four $50 gift certificates (two for Wild Child and two Freya's Bower)
  • An awesome swag package that includes:
    • Bookmarks
    • Books
    • Wild Child T-shirt and mug
    • Wild Child and Freya's Bower bags
    • Four handmade, crochet coasters by Kit Wylde
    • An autographed copy of Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire
    • A rare DVD copy of the Matheson/Furst classic "Up The Creek" (lovingly used)
    • One ebook copy of Nita Wick's short story, The Dream (previously published as part of a Freya's Bower anthology.)
    • Book trading cards
    • Signed Dangerous Waters poster
    • of "Battle for Blood: The Blood Feud"
    • winner's name as a character in Kissa Starling's next sweet romance story.
    • A Yankee Candle
    • more...


I fell in love with football (or should that be soccer?) when I was very young, back in the days of tribalism and hooliganism. Here in the UK the season runs from August to May, and it was one autumn that I decided to take in my first away match, a local ‘derby’ in one of the rougher areas of London.

I didn’t have a car, so I went by train. The team I follow had a notoriously violent hooligan element at the time, but I reckoned as a fellow-supporter I should be safe.

I reached London and changed trains. In those days some train carriages were small and enclosed, and I found myself alone in a six-seat carriage.

At the next station five football fans got in. I didn’t really like the look of any of them, with their sneers and closely shaven heads. All five were bigger than me. “Who d’you support?” Yob Number One demanded.

I swallowed. They weren’t wearing colours, so I had no idea who they supported. I decided to guess.

“Chelsea?” I stammered.

“Ah. That’s okay,” Yob Number One said. “You’re one of us.”

I don’t think so, I thought but didn’t say.

“D’you want to help us vandalise the carriage?” Yob Number Two asked me.

“Er, no. I think I’ll just watch,” I said.

The yobs started to smash lightbulbs, slash seats with penknives, and write obscenities on the walls. While I was relieved the lads weren’t slashing and smashing me, there was a slight concern at the back of my mind that I might end up getting the blame for the damage.

At last, the train pulled in at the station.

“You know, mate,” Yob Number One told me as he and his mates leaped from the train. He waved his penknife. “If you didn’t support Chelsea, we’d have spent the journey kicking your head in and cutting you up.”

I believed him. As I wiped shards of lightbulb-glass and foam seat stuffing from my clothes I decided that, on the way back, I would get in a bigger, fuller carriage.

Please visit these sites for more chances to win, the more you visit the more chances you have to win. We have 46 participating authors. You can stop at as many or as little blogs as you wish. At each stop, you will find either two chances to enter per blog to win some awesome prizes. If you visit all, that's 92 chances to win! There will be five, lucky winners.

Take the Blog Train and Visit These Blogs for more chances to win

Marci Baun/Kit Wylde
Critters at the Keyboard
Teresa D'Amario
Judith Leger, Fantasy and Comtemporary Romance Author
The Fictional World of Jaime Samms
Follow Where the Path will Take You
The Wandering Mind of Lizzy P. Bellows
Where Love and Magic Meet
Kissa Starling
Marianna Heusler
Hell's Ambrosia
C.M. Michaels
The Shadow Portal
The Blog Zone
Blog By iMagine
Ardyth DeBruyn Author Blog
Shadows of the Past
Dear Reader
Cassie Exline -- Mystery and Romance
Sarcastic Rambling & Writing
That's What I Think
Sue's Random Ramblings
Make Old Bones
Elements of Mystery
Molly Dean's Blog
Kenzie's Place
The Forbidden Blog
David Huffstetler
Cassandra Ulrich
Carol Marvell
Andrew Richardson
Nick Lloyd
Fiddleeebod -- land of stories
Nita Wick's Blog
Ruth G. Zavitsanos
Too Poor for Texas
Jenn Nixon
City of Thieves
Musings and Doodles
The Western Writer
Bike Cop Blog
The Character Depot
Allen Currier
Tracy Holohan
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, 22 September 2013

J. Joseph Vuono: Oceanfront Dining

Oceanfront%20DiningAll published novelists will, by definition, have their first novel published.  J.Joseph Vuono’s horror release from Rogue Phoenix Press, ‘Oceanfront Dining’, is one such debut novel.  

The road to publication is long and winding – as I know myself – and Joe has written a touching story of his own journey and his feelings on having his name on a book.

When my first novel, Oceanfront Dining, is published and available to the public it will be the culmination of a long time dream.

I have been telling stories for a long as I can remember. As far back as kindergarten, I can recall telling stories into a tape recorder and playing them back for myself to listen to. The first short story that I can vividly remember writing was as an eight year old fourth grader. The story itself revolved around a chicken running for its life from a robot that diced chickens into bite sized nuggets. This was in the early eighties and the fast food nugget craze was just starting to sweep the United States so I don’t think I need to look too deeply for the inspiration behind that one. As the years passed I’d write short stories every chance I’d get, be it after school during study hall and occasionally in the midst of classes that didn’t quite hold my attention. I’d pen the tales and almost immediately share them with my classmates. Often times I’d attach a comments page to the back so that I could get a little feedback on my efforts. I enjoyed the positive reinforcements as well as the constructive criticisms that I believe helped shape me as a young author. By the time I’d graduated high school I’d won multiple creative writing and literature awards. I just knew that I was destined to become a bestselling novelist.

After high school, I joined the working world. My first few jobs were in warehousing and allowed me the opportunity to meet a myriad of people from all walks of life and covering a wide variety of ages. Merely talking to folks expanded my view of the world and kept my creative juices flowing. I learned that within every man, woman and child, there are dozens of characters looking to be explored. After eighteen months in the real world I decided to go back to school, starting my journey at a local community college and focusing on writing and composition classes. I spent a semester as an editor for the school’s literary magazine. By the time my third semester started I’d be offered employment with a telecommunications company and again joined the working world.

The job that I’d taken to pay a few bills quickly morphed into a career that is now closing in on seventeen years. Along the way, I married the most supportive, wonderful woman I’ve ever known and became the father of two fantastic children. As my life continued to unfold before me, my writing slipped and I found myself spending less time expressing my creativity. I’d still write occasionally, short stories here and there and even trying to kick start a few novels, but the passion that had once fueled my creativity was gone. It wasn’t that I no longer enjoyed the craft, but the hours just seemed to slip away.

As life would have it, I ended up having dinner with an old friend from high school while traveling for my current profession. When the subject of writing came up, she scoffed at my answer of not having the time anymore. She gave me a mild scolding about wasting my God given talents, and a reminder the only real reason I didn’t seem to have the time for writing these days was because I wasn’t allowing myself to. I pondered her comments for my entire return trip home, taking them to heart. Within a few days of that conversation, I found myself dusting off an old story idea and finding the time that I’d previously lost.

That forgotten old story would become, Oceanfront Dining, and I found myself more driven to tell this tale than any I had previously encountered. Even on the nights where heavy eyelids battled internal motivations for control and needed sleep beckoned, I’d sit in front of my laptop and press on. Writing almost nightly, the story and the characters evolved every time I sat at my desk until the final chapters filled my computer screen.

Though I was thrilled to have completed my first novel, there was a certain sadness in knowing that this particular story had come to a close. Until, at least, I realized that my own story was just beginning. Over the next few months I face the joy of query publishers and the sting of multiple rejection letters, often dejected, yet never willing to surrender. It was a cold December afternoon when I opened the e-mail from RPP requesting a full copy of my manuscript. Everything from that moment on has been surreal and a fantastic learning experiencing. From the initial acceptance of my novel to the seeing the first draft of my cover art, which is phenomenal by the way, each step in the process has brought a smile to my face. I hope that you’ll take the time to read Oceanfront Dining and that you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed bringing it to you.

After all of these years, I stand on the precipice of seeing a dream realized. Though I may never be the next great bestselling author, I am, at last, a published novelist.

And I’m awfully proud of that.

Oceanfront Dining is available at from Rogue Phoenix Press at:

or from Amazon at:

Joe can be contacted on Facebook, or on twitter at @JoeVuono

Friday, 13 September 2013

Torridon Witches: Release

Picnic, fire, peopleAfter the short delay, ‘The Torridon Witches’ will be released by Damnation Books this Sunday. 

To celebrate, there will be a live chat in Damnation Books’ chatroom.  I’ll be there for the early session (7pm UK time).  I’ll have to miss the midnight chat as I’ll be on holiday in the deepest Welsh mountains (near where ‘The Doe and the Dragon’ was set).  Our cottage doesn’t have wi-fi, but the inn down the road does, although it’ll be closed for the second session.