Thursday, October 8, 2026

Whispers of the Pale Witch by S.A. Sizemore with Exclusive Excerpt #Horror #ParanormalThriller



“The Ghost House – Creative Halloween Decorating on a Budget from a Themed Entertainment Professional” by S.A. Sizemore
 
Okay. Do I want the twelve-foot skeleton that my local hardware store sells? 

Yes. Yes, I do. 

But do I have room to store it when it’s not hanging out in my front yard at Halloween? 

No. No, I do not. I’m also not spending hundreds of dollars on it. 

What else can you do on a budget that will fold up neatly and compactly for next year? Also, how can I ideally recycle and reuse materials I already have around the house and turn them into something spooky?

By night I write spooky horror/thriller books with a touch of speculative history, but by day I’m a themed entertainment professional. Over the years I’ve come up with a few tricks to make my house super spooky during Halloween time without breaking my bank account, adding to a landfill, or making it impossible to park our car in the garage. 




My neighbors refer to us as The Ghost House.
 
The first part of good Halloween decorating is deciding on a theme. I wanted mine to be a haunted house party filled with ghosts and skeletons. Try to tell a story with your decorations and think of some questions to get you going. What happened right before your Halloween guests arrived? Is something going on right now? What will happen when they leave?  


Secondly, you need to decide how your Halloween guests are going to interact with your theme. Will there be sounds? Will there be lights? Will there be things that activate as people walk by? Are there opportunities for photo ops? For The Ghost House I incorporate all of these things to give my trick or treaters the best experience.




On top of that, my goal is to be able to pack most of my decorations into two or three bins that fit neatly on top of one shelf in my garage. They must not be heavy because I live in earthquake country and things can fall. Plus, I want to be able to pull them down by myself and put them back up on the shelf safely.




Let’s start with the ghosts. I’m going to show you a simple way to make a ghost with easy materials you may already have that will squish down into nothing. They can be used multiple times and are made out of recycled items. You will need three things: a white plastic tablecloth (preferably one you have already used), some string, a black marker, and discarded packing paper or crumpled newspaper. Old white sheets can also be used instead of plastic tablecloths, but if they get wet they can weigh down branches and may not blow as well in the wind. They also don’t pack down as small in storage boxes. 



Take one of the table clothes and grab the center where the head will be. Stuff the head with paper towels or newspaper, enough to make it about the size of a soccer ball. 



Cut a piece of string and tie the head shut around the neck. If you want to be adventurous, you can stuff a battery-operated tea light just inside the neck that can be turned on once the sun goes down. 


 
Next, take your marker and add two black eyes to the ghost’s face. 




 
At this point it’s best to hang your ghost up to do the finishing touches. Cut another piece of string and tie it to the back of the neck string and make a loop or two ends that can be tied together around a branch. Hang up your ghost so you can work on the it’s skirt. 
 


Take the bottom of the ghost’s skirt and start ripping the ends vertically up toward the torso. Not all the way. Just about one third to one half up. Vary the lengths. Use a scissors to start the cut but then rip. Jagged edges flow better in a breeze. You will also want to use your fingers to gently stretch areas all over the plastic. This will remove the “flat” feel of the tablecloth and add some texture.
 



Now you are ready to hang up your ghost outside. Once you get it into the desired location, grab two of its “arms” and then tie its “hands” to other branches, edges of a bush, or to your patio eaves. You want your ghost to look like it is dancing with its arms in the arm or about to fly away. When the fall wind picks up, it’s going to look amazing. And the best part, when you are done with Halloween, you can have dozens of ghosts that easy squish down into a box for next year.
 
I mentioned skeletons. If you have a little more storage space, get the three-dimensional skeletons, but for space-saving needs there are lots of flat skeletons you can find that fold up nicely in the bottom of a box. Hang these along your eaves or in between your ghosts. 



 
Another option is to get used skeleton “parts” and make a graveyard. I like getting a pack of premade headstones, which stack nicely together in a bin. You can also go green and make your own headstones with used cardboard boxes. I have a set of pre-owned skeleton arms that I place into the ground as if the skeletons are trying to break out of their graves. Adding some LED flickering tea lights around them adds ambiance. Look around your yard for discarded bricks or other things you can add around your headstones for stability and additional layers. I also hang up marigold garlands for a pop of color and a festive Day of the Dead feel to my Ghost House party.
 


Once you have all these things in place, lighting and sound are super important to really get your ghost party to come alive. I place four or five red and purple spotlights that give a wash of color across the front of the house. I particularly love the kind of lights that have movement to them or a pattern that projects onto the facade. If you can, make sure to light up your skeletons and ghosts with a spotlight or a battery-operated light inside them. There are some great solar lighting options now, too. 

The final touch is sound. I have a curated playlist of Halloween music that I blast from two small speakers in my yard. Not only does this bring home the ghost party theme, but it also draws trick or treaters toward your house, along with the lights.
 
I hope this gave you some fun, inexpensive, green, and easy to store decorating ideas for your Halloween this year. If you want to read a fun horror occult book this spooky season, please check out my new multi-award-winning book series that starts this September with Whispers of the Pale Witch. It’s a story four hundred years in the making set in Salem, Massachusetts.

Shall we begin?

BeckettCoven.com


Whispers of the Pale Witch 
Beckett Coven Series
Book One
S.A. Sizemore

Genre: Horror/Paranormal Thriller
Publisher: Rowan Prose Publishing
Date of Publication: September 29, 2026
ISBN: 978-1-961967-99-1
ASIN: B0FTBTKG9J
Number of pages: 398
Word Count: 98,000
Cover Artist: Kelly Moran

Tagline: Shall we begin?

Book Description: 

Some secrets should just stay buried. 

After the sudden death of her great-aunt, Kylie Beckett lands her dream job as a forensic photographer in the small seaside town where she was born. But once there, a series of murders and the theft of a dangerous relic force Kylie to uncover the dark truth about her ancestors. 

With the help of newfound family, she learns to harness unconscious powers to stop the vengeful and unstable Pale Witch before she unleashes a demonic spirit on Salem, Massachusetts once again. 

Shall we begin?

Excerpt 2 from Chapter 3

Elizabeth was distracted. This is just so damn overwhelming, she thought as she studied Kylie’s face.

The last time they were both on this porch, Elizabeth held her small toddler hand and tried not to cry as they hugged goodbye. Now, Kylie Beckett was a grown woman standing in the doorway some twenty years later. Elizabeth waited decades for this moment, but it felt unexpectedly awkward and strange.

Kylie had the same caramel complexion and bright smile of her African American father, along with a feminine version of his athletic build. Her mother’s Anglo-Saxon features were also apparent in her soft reddish-brown hair and intense amber eyes. She looked rather androgynous without any makeup or earrings. Her t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers were more appropriate for Southern California this time of year than the coming New England autumn.

The rain poured down hard on the porch roof.

“You can come inside if you like.” Kylie motioned for her to move forward.

Elizabeth glanced past the front door towards the cellar. A pained look flashed over her eyes. “It was me.” She touched a tiny bronze cylinder hanging from a chain around her neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t completely honest. I was the one who found Hester after the heart attack. I haven't been able to step foot in the house since.”

There was an awkward pause between them.

Kylie was thrown upon meeting Elizabeth. After their phone conversations, she had pictured someone quite different. Instead of the frumpy, busy-body white woman she imagined her to be, Elizabeth was by far one of the most strikingly beautiful women she’d ever met. It was strange, though. She felt familiar, like a childhood friend, not just a recent acquaintance.

“I meant to be here when you arrived.” Elizabeth tapped some raindrops from her umbrella again. “My assistant only just told me you called. We had a very busy Friday afternoon.” She pointed to the left of the doorframe. “The switch for the porch light is on the wall just by the coat hook.”

Kylie leaned over to flick it on. The porch became bathed in a warm glow as if the house was coming back to life. A moth tapped on the ceiling lamp after missing its warmth.

“When do you start your new job?” Elizabeth asked.

“Monday.” Kylie brightened. “Thank you so much for the introduction. I’m really looking forward to it.”

A warm smile crept across her mouth as Elizabeth noticed the tiny, white seashell on a black cord around Kylie’s neck. More emotions rose inside her.

“I'm sorry.” Kylie rubbed her eyes. She didn’t want to seem inhospitable, but she was very tired. “It took a few days to get here, and I still need to pull some stuff out of the car before I get to bed.”

“Of course. Of course.” Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, no worries.” Kylie peered out at the rain and then back at Elizabeth’s impressive heels and expensive suit. She waved her hand. “I've got it. Just bringing in a couple of things.” She paused for extra emphasis as she said, “I really do appreciate everything you've done for me over the last few weeks.”

Elizabeth thought her heart was going to break right there and then. Her fingers fumbled around in her vest pocket and fished out a white business card. She handed it to Kylie. “Here’s my contact info again in case you need anything. I'll have my assistant set up a time for us to talk. Maybe The Roof on Sunday for brunch?” She opened her umbrella, but the showers magically abated as she descended the porch steps.

“Sounds fun.” Kylie nodded in agreement, not having a clue what The Roof was.

“And we can discuss the lawsuit,” Elizabeth said as she walked down the path.

“W-wait, what?” Kylie stuttered. “What lawsuit?”

“I emailed you about it.” Elizabeth turned slightly. “Beulah Prudaetor is contesting your aunt's trust. But don't worry. She can't take this place from you. I'll make sure of that.”

“But...” Kylie moved forward and wrapped a hand around the white porch post. She looked past Elizabeth at the neighborhood beyond. She liked this place. Loved its quirkiness. Hester’s house already felt like home, even though she’d only been there for a few minutes.

The stress on Kylie’s face drew Elizabeth back to the porch. “Please don't worry about it right now. Go in and get a good night's rest.” Then, she broke her promise and said what she had planned to hold back. “You look so much like your father and so very much like your mother.”

“You knew them?” Kylie asked while startled and curious by the sudden compliment. “You knew my mother? I never did.”

“I know.” Elizabeth pushed down her emotions and patted Kylie's hand. “You get settled in. There will be plenty to talk about and lots of time in which to do it...now that you’re back.”

Before Kylie could see her cry, Elizabeth walked out to the rain-soaked street. She got into her brand-new, white, electric sedan and drove off.

Kylie was alone again on the porch.

The rain paused long enough for her to run out to her hatchback and bring in a few boxes. Before going inside, she picked up the business card she had set down on the porch railing and read it aloud, “Elizabeth Ingersoll, Esq.”

There was so much to focus on in such a short time. Kylie hadn’t noticed the surname until now. Ingersoll was her mother's last name.

“Elizabeth is family.”

 

 

 


About the Author:

Drawn to playwriting from an early age, S.A. Sizemore began writing professionally while studying English and theater arts in college. After producing several plays regionally in Southern California, Sizemore pivoted to the themed entertainment industry. Whispers of the Pale Witch is the first installment of the Beckett Coven series inspired by Sizemore’s ancestral connection to the Salem Witch Trials. She is a full member of the Dramatists Guild of America, proud member of the LGBTQ+ community, European and Cherokee/Chickahominy decent, and resides in California with her wife and two dogs, Agatha and Harry.









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Thursday, September 24, 2026

Release Day Blitz: The CUPID Dating Agency by Celia Breslin


The CUPID Dating Agency
Angel Romance Collection 
Books 1-4
Celia Breslin 

MEDDLING MATCHMAKERS LEAD TO HEAVENLY STEAM.

Four celestial warriors. Four potential mates. One tempting collection.

Welcome to The CUPID Dating Agency…

A WARRIOR’S KISS

The cupids nudge a stoic warrior and a commitment-shy introvert in the direction of true love, but hundreds of Hell’s servants intent on destruction and mayhem stand in their way…

Grumpy Sunshine * Opposites Attract * He Falls First

“A wild ride of action and sexy times!” —Virginia Nelson, USA Today Bestselling Author

A DEMON’S EMBRACE

With hell beasties on a rampage, the cupids team up a snarky rogue demon with a by-the book warrior-class angel for a partnership that might extend far beyond one job for Heaven.

Enemies to Lovers * Secret Crush * Forced Proximity

“Zara is a total badass, and I love Stryker’s banter and snarkiness. A marvelous read!”—Georgia Lyn Hunter, author of Fallen Guardians & Warlords of Empyrea series

AN ANGEL’S OBSESSION

Ordered by the cupids, a duty-bound angel must work with a Celtic storm god to resolve the mayhem he caused on Earth and in the Underworld, but that’s nothing compared to the god being her ex-boyfriend…

Second Chance * Forced Proximity * Immortal Pining

“A super-enjoyable read. Love the characters and the world!”—C. J. Burright, author of Druid Cursed & the Dreamcaster series

AN ANGEL’S TREASURE

When the meddling cupids try to keep a warrior angel and his baker bestie apart, it may take a miracle—or hundreds of party-crashing wendigos—to flip the friends into lovers…

Friends to Lovers * Secret Crush * Slow Burn

“Angelic sex was never so sinful, highly recommend!” —Virginia Nelson, USA Today Bestselling Author

The CUPID Dating Agency is a multi-author novella series intended for adult readers. This collection brings together all four CUPID Dating Agency stories by Celia Breslin, featuring wicked-smart heroines, big-hearted alphas, supernatural shenanigans, and steamy romance. Grab your copy today!


Excerpts

 

A Warrior’s Kiss, Collection Story #1 in the novella collection:

 (Nicky and Zeke’s First Meet)

 

“Think he’s dead?” The whispered question quieted his internal whining.

Nice voice. Soft and smooth, like velvet. Feminine. Clearly, he wasn’t alone.

“He sure looks dead.” A second woman replied, louder and with a chuckle.

He suppressed a scowl and kept his eyes closed. She thinks this is funny?

Bodies shifted behind whatever his head had cracked into, edging closer to either side of him.

“There’s no blood, though,” she of the velvet voice murmured. “Shouldn’t there be blood? […].”

She came to a halt near his head, her body heat and peaches-and-honey scent saturating his senses. He should open his peepers and say something, see if the female looked as good as she sounded and smelled.

Shit. Where had that reaction come from? He had no room in his life for a woman, especially not a mortal woman.

“Maybe we should check for a pulse,” the one Peaches had called Maya suggested.

“I’m not touching his body.”

Fast reply from Peaches. Jesus, did he look so horrible? And double Jesus, why did her opinion matter? He must have hit his head harder than he imagined.

======

A Demon’s Embrace, Collection Story #2

(Stryker and Zara's Slow Burn)

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.

He laughed but the sound was lost in the great roar of 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.

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.

Desire danced through her, followed fast by denial. No. Please, no. Eternal enemy. Archnemesis. But her treacherous body relaxed against his.

“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.

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…”

Lord help her, she wanted him.

 

===========

 

 

 

An Angel’s Obsession, story #3

(Luke and Elle’s First Re-meet)

 

Luke was cannon-balled out of slumber by the sudden presence of one hundred-and-fifty pounds of hound landing on his back.

Facedown atop a supremely soft mattress with his arms stretched wide and his head hanging off the foot of the bed, it took him a second to rally his speech center. “What the actual bloody hell, Bolt?”

Bolt ignored him, bouncing around Luke’s body, pitching him side to side, up, down, up, down.

“For feck’s sake.” What the double bloody hell was Bolt on about with all the yapping and yipping and bashing of Luke’s kidneys with his big paws?

Luke rolled onto his back. “Enough, Bolt. Sit.”

Bolt whined and smacked one large paw down upon Luke’s bare chest. Ouch. “Duuude,” he drawled. “Chill.”

Fingers snapped, silencing his dog lickety-split.

Who possessed the ability to boss his animal around and convince the stubborn bugger to obey?

Only one person in any dimension wielded this kind of puppy power. But no, it can’t be her.

With his heartbeat jackhammering in his chest, he sucked in a deep breath, soaking in the unique floral scent of the woman who broke his rarely used heart, hoping this was no mere post-party hallucination.

“Gabrielle,” he whispered. God’s messenger and elite warrior, the angel he’d admired and cherished. “Elle.” The woman he’d let down, and who ultimately walked away.

A grin spread over his face.

“Angel baby. You’re here.” He cranked open his eyelids to gaze up at her in wonder.

Lightning crackled in the depths of her glittering green eyes as she loomed over him, her unhappy expression promising pain. Yep, his angel was clearly not as thrilled as he was about this unexpected reunion.

A snarl escaped his angel’s throat, and her arm shot downward, her fingers of steel snagging him by the throat and squeezing his windpipe.

“Luke.” She uttered his name as if it were the vilest curse word in any dimension, then lifted him with little effort and slammed him up against the wall…

 

================

An Angel’s Treasure, Story #4

(Raz and Maya in the Friend Zone)

 

Maya smacked into a wall of muscle.

“Raz!” She palmed his hunky chest and pushed.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he covered her hands with his much larger ones, trapping them against his pecs while he backed her against the fridge.

 

“Move.” Wow, that order came out more like a question, and good grief, could her voice sound any wispier? All breathy and needy? But damn it, touching him was doing all sorts of lusty things to her insides, again, and they were not in the right place or time to be—

Wait. Hold the horniness. There was never a right time for them. Friends. Friend Zone. The platonic zone.

Raz towered over her, his pretty eyes practically searing into her soul. “Hey, you all right?” His warm, warm fingers stroked the backs of her hands while the cold metal of the fridge sent goosies down her spine.

“I’ll be fine.” She yanked her hands out from under his and attempted to skirt around him, but he planted his stupid big hands against the fridge on either side of her, towering over her, caging her in.

Damn it, he smelled so good, like clove, pine, and citrus. “I need to check on the cookies.”

“No, you don’t. You just put in that batch.”

“Again, I ask, what do you know about baking? Zip, that’s what.”

“As much as I enjoy our banter, TT, something is up, and we’re not moving until you tell me.”

His expression softened. “Let me help.”

“I’m not some problem you need to fix.” She ducked under his arm. This time, he let her go, much to her relief. And to no small amount of disappointment.

She busied herself arranging the cooled batch of cookies on a platter.

“Maya.”

Oh, man. He said her actual name instead of one of the bazillion nicknames he seemed to have for her. She nibbled on the side of her lip and tore her gaze off the cookie pile to face the source of her never-ending torment.

Brow furrowed, he stared down at her, concern clear in his eyes. They always darkened to forest green when he was upset, which was a rare occurrence for the upbeat, positive man. Except when he was in battle mode, like the time a bunch of creatures from Hell invaded Petaluma, and Raziel made his fiery sword appear out of nowhere then killed every scary monster that tried to attack her—

Raz tapped her forehead with his index finger. “You’re thinking very hard. Too hard for a party. What’s going on in that clever mind of yours?”

“Nothing.”

“Mm-hm.” He scanned her face. “You have a little something on your…” His gaze locked onto her cheek, and before she could so much as blink, he stroked his thumb over her skin, right near her lips.

Lips that wanted to be kissed sooooo damn badly. By him.

Shit. She grabbed his wrist and opened her mouth to lay into him as hard as her bantering skills would allow, to stop herself before she snaked her hands around his neck and tugged his face closer to hers to kiss—

Chimes trilled.

The air around them warmed.

Fireworks burst to life near the vaulted ceiling, and a scroll winked into existence in an explosion of pink and gold sparkles.

Holy sugar sprinkles. The cupids had crashed the party.


About the Author:

Celia Breslin lives in San Francisco, California, USA, with her family, including three feisty felines who like to stalk across her keyboard while she’s hard at work crafting urban fantasy, sci-fi and paranormal romances. Her current creature obsessions are wolf shifters, the Fae, vampires, warrior-class angels, and cyborgs, and her action-packed stories include some of her favorite tropes: fated mates, second chance, grumpy sunshine, opposites attract, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, and more.

When not glued to her laptop, Celia likes to work out, read books (of course!), hang with her family, and binge-watch sci-fi and fantasy TV shows and movies. Matcha lattes keep her fueled for All The Life Stuff!

Website: http://www.celiabreslin.com       









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Monday, September 14, 2026

Author Interview with B. M. Briar #DarkFantasy #GothicHorror #LGBTQ


Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming release.

So Beats A Hollow Heart is a sapphic gothic fantasy novella about losing the love of your life. I wrote it for Nicole Frail Books’ Cover Story Contest in February of this year, and still can’t quite believe I won! As an author, I think there are some stories you write and some stories that possess you; this was definitely the latter for me, even if there were some passages that made me want to tear my hair out. 

It’s a story about grief and loneliness and what makes us human; it’s a celebration of women’s wrongs; it’s got a comic relief zombie called George. 

Have you ever based your book or characters on actual events or people from your own life?

I’ve never pulled anyone wholesale from life, but as a writer it’s hard not to inject little pieces of your own life into your stories. If there’s a female character in my work that I want the reader to find sexy, she’ll always have a Mediterranean nose, because that’s what my fiancée has and I think it’s such a beautiful feature. 

Is there a theme or message in your work that you would like readers to connect to?

So Beats A Hollow Heart is very much a story about grief, but it’s also about how queer and neurodivergent people view themselves in a world that can be very hostile towards us. I hope readers can find something meaningful and engaging within it, but at the same time I’m never really trying to teach my readers anything, just pointing at the little story from my head and saying, “wow, isn’t that f*cked up!” 

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

I love a good hobby. Most people in my life have received at least one cross-stitched gift in the past few years, and I’d love to try embroidery as well, although I find that a bit intimidating! I also pole dance once a week, which is good for my perfectionist soul—I encourage everyone to pick up a hobby they are dreadful at. 

Is there a genre that you’d like to write that you haven’t tackled yet?

I’ve always been a huge lover of classic epic fantasy, but I don’t know whether I have the worldbuilding chops to attempt something like that, as much as I’d love to. If there is epic fantasy in my future, it’s pretty far off!

What book are you reading now?

I’ve just started The Isle in the Silver Sea by Tasha Suri. I love the Burning Kingdoms trilogy so I’m really excited for what she has in store for me with this new world. 

What is in your to-read pile?

Since we’re currently in Sapphic September and definitely heading into spooky season, my TBR is feeling VERY gothic with Hungerstone by Kat Dunn, Bone of my Bone and My Darling Dreadful Thing by Johanna Van Veem, and A Dowry of Blood by S. T. Gibson. 


So Beats a Hollow Heart: A Novella
B. M. Briar

Genre: Dark Fantasy/Gothic Horror/LGBTQ Fiction
Publisher: Attic Ebooks, an imprint of Nicole Frail Books, LLC
Date of Publication: August 18, 2026
ISBN: 978-1-965852-74-3 (print) 
ISBN: 978-1-965852-73-6 (ebook)
ASIN: B0GX36X53Q
Number of pages: 116
Word Count: 22,000 

Cover Artist: Covers by Sophie

Tagline: In a crumbling village of ghosts and grief, an assassin and a necromancer are drawn into a dangerous, intimate experiment to defy death—and loneliness.

Book Description:

A gothic horror story about losing the love of your life, So Beats a Hollow Heart follows a nameless assassin—a member of the feared Bloodcloaks—sent to rid a village of the necromancer who has been stealing its young women.

What the assassin finds is not the monster she expects, but a woman deep in grief, desperate to find a new body for the soul of her dead lover.

After her third experiment ends in failure, the necromancer—Isolde—turns her attention to the assassin. Neither woman can anticipate how profoundly they will be changed by Isolde’s fourth and final experiment.

So Beats A Hollow Heart is the winner of the Cover Story Writing Contest, hosted by Nicole Frail Books, LLC

Excerpt: 

I remembered the pain of transformation, if only as a haze of red and tearing muscle. I remembered the awful rasp of my canines being filed blunt and the burn of silver being placed over the stumps to keep my true nature at bay. I had gone through hell so that girls like this wouldn’t have to, and now I was failing her.

Isolde walked into my field of vision, blocking my view of the tortured girl and breaking me out of my spiral of self-pity; I folded up the memories and tucked them away with the others, shifting my focus to the present. Isolde’s arms were crossed, the tip of one boot tapping against the flagstones.

“This is very impressive. Look more impressed,” she demanded.

“Can I look horrified instead?”

Isolde huffed, childlike and thwarted.

“I suppose that will do,” she said. “You know, I was really counting on you to be more entertaining than George. Do they surgically remove your personalities when they pump you full of wolf’s blood?”

“I don’t know. Do they surgically remove your morals when you sign the Mage Registry?”

“Ha! I’ll have you know that several of my colleagues are terrible sticks in the mud and would take great offence at the suggestion. I’m quite certain they will stay within the bounds of safe magic use and never go even a little bit mad.”

“And you?” I ventured. “Have you gone a little bit mad?”

“Of course you would see brilliance and call it madness. If I do go mad, it’s because I have no one but a zombie to talk to. And George, I suppose.”

She smiled, just a little quirk of her mouth at one side as if the two of us were sharing a joke. I had never imagined that I would be gently needled by a target. I did not like it.

I would not say that I sulked. I had simply elected to end the conversation. It was in Isolde’s interest to keep me talking, I reminded myself: if I was talking, I was not thinking, was not planning. I needed to do both if I wanted to get myself and the girl to safety. I could come back for Isolde later. Or someone else could.

The problem was that, devoid of entertainment, Isolde had taken to scratching the bottom of a glass beaker with a scalpel. Her work was precise, careful, but the sound of sharp metal against glass scraped at my ears, interrupting all attempts at thought. I glared at her.

This was a mistake.

“I’m sure you must be wondering what I’m doing,” said Isolde, without looking up. 

“Not particularly.”

“I’m engraving the soul-binding runes into the base of this bottle.” She paused. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

“No.”

She was going to tell me anyway.

“I am engraving the soul-binding runes into the base of this bottle,” Isolde repeated, her voice heavy and her words overenunciated as if my disinterest was an obstacle she could overcome by sheer force. “So that I can recapture the soul, should the experiment fail.”

 

About the Author:

B. M. Briar spent most of her childhood in fantasyland, whether that be immersed in a book or forcing her long-suffering dad to play pretend for entire weekends at a time. Little has changed over the past two decades, except that she’s given her dad a break and taken up DnD instead. 

Her work reflects her own experiences as a queer woman, is increasingly gothic, and always a little bit magic. She is the winner of the first Cover Story contest from Attic Books. So Beats A Hollow Heart is her debut novella. 

Outside of writing, she is a cat mum, a cross-stitcher, and a truly abysmal pole dancer.








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