The Temptress – Chapter 1 Teaser

Water.

 

Darkness envelopes my consciousness. My toes. My ankles. My body. Consuming my entire body. No, not my entire body. My neck? No, not my neck. I can take a deep breath. I take a deep breath.

 

Pain. Shocking pain.

 

Don’t take deep breaths. Deep breaths bring pain. I don’t want that. My mind is foggy. I should open my eyes. They feel so heavy. I can move my thumb and feel the current against my fingers. Shallow water. My eyelids are heavy. I listen to my breath. In. Out. In. Out. Open your eyes. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep. I lift my hand slowly over the water and pain travels through my body, sharpest in my stomach. Ignore the pain. Ignore the pain. Ignore the pain my mind chants. I rub my forefinger and thumb together and they feel sticky. Not water?

 

The water feels strange, thick, sticky. It’s not water, I realize. My senses start to come to me. In the distance I can hear something, a motor running? Air conditioner? But it’s snowing outside, isn’t it? The constant hum from the motor is melodic and makes me sleepy. My eyes still feel so heavy. Don’t sleep. Don’t sleep.

 

Where am I? Why can’t I open my eyes? Why are they so heavy? I open them.

 

The ceiling is spotted. No, not spots. Stains? Dark red stains. Where am I? I can feel my anxiety bubble, my heart rate increases and my vision clears. Dark red stains on the ceiling. This isn’t right. Where was I? I wasn’t here. I wasn’t here. I wasn’t here.

 

I was home. I was in my bed. I wasn’t here. Panic takes over and I rush to sit up. The pain is so blinding, so consuming that I forget how to breathe. No sound comes from my mouth because it’s stuck in my throat. The water, no not water – whatever this liquid is, laps around my body. Where … the… fuck… am I?

 

The motor running and the water splashing, that’s what I hear. I can also hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I’m in a tub, I realize. I grip the edges and pull myself up. I can see over the edge. This is not my bathroom. I know that. But I know nothing else. The tiled floor is dusty and old. There’s a stark white towel neatly folded on the sink. The sink is a brownish gray from grime. On top of the towel is a piece of folded paper.

 

I look down and it’s what I imagine. As I see the dark red pool I’m slouched in the smell of copper assaults my nose and by the clean stitched black line down my stomach I realize that the pool of blood I sit in is my own.

 

I close my eyes and count my breaths before panic sets in. Where am I? What was the last thing I remembered? There’s nothing. Nothing. My brain is nothing and the fear that comes with it is paralyzing. I listen to the motor again and I realize then that it’s the bathroom fan. I imagine at one point it circulated air effectively but now it was nothing more than white noise.

 

It takes forever but I pull myself to an upright position. Next to the towel are two white pills and a glass of water. The items on the sink; the towel, the pills, the paper, and the glass are a stark clean contrast against the dirt and grime of the bathroom.

 

“Hello?” I try to call out but my voice is dry and cracked. It sounds foreign to me. I don’t even recognize my own voice.

 

There’s no answer and I can tell I’m alone. I don’t know how, but I know this. What seems like hours pass before I pull myself completely out of the tub. I realize by the time I get out that the tub isn’t filled with my blood because it’s too thin. There’s something else. Ammonia? My skin burns and the suture down my stomach aches and throbs with my movements.

 

Hunched over I pull myself up to the sink and kneel in front of it, bracing myself on the counter. I assume the pills are meant for me but I ignore them. It’s the paper on the towel that interests me. The word, no – the name printed neatly on the paper, looks familiar but I don’t know who it is. I think, perhaps, that it’s my name.

 

 

Arianna

The Temptress – Cover Reveal and Off a Friend Winner

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DRUMROLL!!!! 

 

The third book, The Temptress, has an official cover! The first two are getting a makeover as well as part of the new Half Light Publishing home.

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I think it’s my favorite cover yet! (Although I say that with each one) and of course all due to the brilliance of my amazing cover designer, Jason Vollario. Who just gets me.

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Also, we’re going to have beautiful black and white prints available for those coming to our events! (Without the watermark)

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And, if you’re subscribed to my newsletter, then you’ve already seen the announcement, but big congrats to

Arianna Grenawalt

You’re going to be brutally slaughtered thanks to the people who love you! That’s love I tell ya.

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GIVEAWAY – 5 Pairs of Tickets to Haunted Survivor Lecture

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If you were watching Ghost Adventures last night then you would’ve seen the episode with Jay and Marie Yates, paranormal investigators from the C.rossing O.ver P.aranormal S.ociety 

If you’re anywhere near Phoenix then you want to mark your calendars for October 1st!

Join professional ghost hunters, haunted survivors, reality t.v. personalities, and paranormal lecturers Jay & Marie Yates for an evening of RAW and UNCENSORED conversation about their very own stories that made them what they are today. View never seen before video, in depth details of their past, present, and future in the field of paranormal investigation and research.

Learn what it was like for the Yates family as they grew up haunted and plagued by the supernatural. Hear for yourself why their mission is to seek only truth, understand, and proof of the paranormal by any means necessary.

They’ve generously passed on 5 pairs of tickets to giveaway to my readers! YEAH YEAH! Valued at $30 a pair, this is definitely something to jump on! 

Not only will this be an awesome lecture, but you can come sit with me! (don’t roll your eyes)

Box office opens at 6:00 pm 

Doors open at 6:30 pm 

Located at the Sun Studio in Tempe, Arizona. 

Lecture and Discussion is from 7:00 pm – 8:30 pm 

Open Seating

Buy your tickets in advance by clicking here

All you have to do is comment below to win a ticket for you and a friend or loved one! Winners will be announced on September 16th. 

Off a Friend Contest – FINALISTS

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Ok – which one of you has blood on your hands? Oh yeah, all of you sick fuckers. But, that’s why I love you all. My sick, disgusting, macabre fans – readers – people who liked my page… you get the drift.

Before I announced our deadly finalists, I wanted to share some comments that just couldn’t not be shared. (Yeah, yeah grammar nazis.)

Steven Ujueta, who nominated his wife, was close up in being a finalist. But alas, his wife didn’t quite make the cut. (Get it? The cut?) His wife was nominated, Salaih Bush (cool name, though – quite tempting… maybe another book?) and he said “She gave me my beautiful son. She is of no use to me now. LMAOO jk” Ok Steven, I busted out laughing. My husband said you lost points because of your ‘jk’ at the end. Not sure how I feel about his comment, but I digress. FANTASTIC nomination! Like I said, this may get carried into a new book.

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Also, shot outs to fellow writers and/or aspiring authors – your friends love and support your endeavor and think killing you off is the way to show the love. Who are these people? Terry Reilly who nominated Bernice Erehart and Kimberley Hill who nominated Michael Kolesik.

And, several of you were nominated by people who love you and said you’ve been having a rough few years (I’ll leave out names for this one – just because I doubt y’all want your business out there) and of course, your friends thought the best way to cheer ya up was to kill you off. I mean… when you’re at the end of your rope, just slice the damn thing – right? Ha ha, no. It’s ok, I’ll hand you guys over the knife and you can return the favor in the next contest. (Which is coming up end of the year)

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Ok, so without further adieu, our finalists. Please vote! The following was selected by a panel of judges. (Not really, it was just me and my husband)

On a side note – we received a ton of entries and we had a hard time narrowing it down to the final 6. Thank you everyone who nominated and had a great sense of humor about this all! You help make the world go round. I hope you’ll join us on the next one 😀

Only one vote per person. IP’s will be checked, if you try to skew voting by voting multiple times, all your votes will be disqualified. (Must have Javascript to see the survey – Otherwise, please click here )

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OFF A FRIEND CONTEST – TEMPTRESS

The ever popular off a friend contest is baaaaacckkk.

This time for book 3 in the Twisted Fairy Tale series.

TEMPTRESS 

Contest: Nominate someone you love to be a named character in the next book in the Twisted Fairy tale series to be killed off in a most gruesome way. Join the ranks of those before you who have become the prized killing possession of the works of T.M. Williams, queen of kill. (I just made that up, I’m not a queen of anything)

Their full name will be used in the book and credit will be given in acknowledgement. Both you and the person you nominate will receive a signed, early release copy of The Temptress. Most importantly, you will be immortalized in print.

Happy Hauntings!

!! CONTEST CLOSED TO ENTRIES !!

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Children at the Window – Sneak Peek

Some things to know about with this chapter. It’s quirky – so it’s not like the rest of the book. It’s mostly dialogue and I can’t really tell you why I decided to write it that way, except that I did.

It’s about halfway through the book and sort of a moment of comic relief in the story.

Hope you enjoy!

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Twenty One

 

“It’s really dark.”

 

“You have a knack for stating the obvious.” I squinted and my knuckles were white as I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

 

“There’s nothing on the radio.” Lynnette played with the search button for the hundredth time.

 

“I wish there was some wall up on the side of the roads.” I pressed my lips together.

 

“Why? Animals would just jump over the walls and be trapped in between them and run back and forth on the road until they got hit.”

 

“Oh, geez.”

 

“Do you want me to drive?” Lynnette switched off the radio and fell back into her seat, defeated.

 

“No, it’s fine.”

 

“I promise I won’t hit any animals.”

 

“No, it’s fine.”

 

“It was an accident.”

 

“I know it was.”

 

“Then why won’t you let me drive?” she pressed.

 

“I want to drive.”

 

“You don’t look like you want to drive.” She sighed when I didn’t answer. “It really is dark,” she said again.

 

“Yeah, it really is. I guess there’s no moon tonight.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“What?”

 

“Maybe it’s cloudy?”

 

I looked up through the windshield. “I don’t think so.”

 

“Wasn’t there a moon last night?” she asked.

 

I tried to think back. “I don’t remember. Probably not.”

 

She continued looking up at the blackened night sky while I focused on not killing any animals that jumped out in the road.

 

“I really think there was a moon last night.”

 

“And it what? Just disappeared tonight?”

 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s weird.”

 

“I’m sure you’re just remembering wrong.”

 

“There’s something flying around out there,” she said, her face pressed against the side window.

 

I glanced up at the night sky again. “Like an owl or something?”

 

“I don’t know, it was quick. It’s hard to tell.”

 

“Probably just an owl.”

 

“Yeah, probably.”

 

I tapped my finger on the wheel to a soundless tune.

 

“There it is again.” Lynnette craned her. “I don’t think it’s an owl.”
“What? A bat?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“It’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.”

 

She flopped back in her seat again. “I’m bored.”

 

“I can tell.”

 

A loud object thumped against the back window. “What the hell?” I glanced in the rearview mirror and Lynnette turned around in her seat.

 

“What was that?” she asked.

 

“Was that the bat?” My voice came out sounding higher pitched than usual.

 

“Just falling out of the sky?”

 

“I don’t know, maybe it died.”

 

“And landed on our car while we’re driving down the road at eighty miles an hour?”

 

“Look out!” Lynnette screamed and when I looked back at the road a woman lay about a hundred yards ahead, directly in the beam of my headlights.

 

Time didn’t allow me to think. I slammed both feet against the brake pedal and the steering wheel locked. Instead of the pedal going down at once it jittered underfoot. In my peripheral Lynnette place both palms on the dashboard, bracing herself. I cursed under my breath and hoped we stopped in time.

 

We did.

 

“What the fuck?” Lynnette asked.

 

I unlocked my door.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

 

“Uh, helping the strange woman lying across the middle of the road?” It was an incredulous question.

 

“What if it’s a trap?”

 

“Seriously? A woman is lying across the road and almost gets killed by a car and you think it’s a trap?”

 

“Call the cops.”

 

“You call the cops. I’m checking on her,” I said, annoyed. She fished for her phone from her purse as I stepped out of the car. I approached the woman and she was lying in the exact same position the entire time. There was no way she was playing  a trick on us.

 

“Hello?” I asked. What else was I supposed to say?

 

“Is she alive?” Lynnette called out from the car.

 

I kneeled beside her. Although pale, her skin had color to it, even in the brightness of the headlights. Her chest rose and fell under her dirt-caked tank top.

 

“She’s alive!” I yelled back.

 

I could hear Lynnette speaking with the 9-1-1 operator.

 

“Amanda, where are we?” Lynnette got out of the car and came to a stop on the other side of the strange lady on the ground. She watched her with what seemed like a mix of apprehension and concern.

 

I looked around. “We passed a town about twenty minutes ago.”

 

“Uh, we passed a town about twenty minutes ago,” she said into the phone. “What town?” she asked me.

 

“We’re on Highway Eighteen,” I offered, hoping it would help.

 

She repeated what I said to the operator. The woman on the ground groaned.

 

“She’s alive,” Lynnette said.

 

“I already told you that.”

 

The woman’s eyes popped open suddenly revealing blood shoot eyes. I fell back on my rear at the startling movement.

“Whoa,” Lynnette said. “That’s creepy.”

 

“Shh. Uh, lady, can you hear me?”

 

She groaned again. Was that an answer?

 

“Yeah, I think she’s gaining consciousness,” Lynnette said into the phone. “I don’t see any,” she added.

 

I raised my eyebrows at her.

 

“They want to know if we see her car around.”

 

Good question. I stood up and walked to the side of my car, looking down the road behind us. I had completely forgotten about the thump on the back window until I saw a red smear down the trunk of my car. I slowly walked completely toward the back around the trunk. The smear went straight down the middle of the trunk and ended just under the back latch. What the hell?

 

“Uh, Amanda?” Lynnette called out. “Please come back here.”

 

I walked back toward Lynnette, all the while trying to figure out what the smear could be. Was it a bat like we thought?

 

“She keeps saying something.”

 

I looked down at the strange woman who was mumbling while looking straight up at the night sky. Lynnette was right, she was creepy.

 

“Cabe?”

 

Lynnette shook her head. “Caleb, I think.”

 

“What happened to 9-1-1?” I realized she wasn’t on the phone anymore.

 

“Oh, I remembered I could just pull the map up on my phone and told her where we were. They’re sending out some units.”

 

“Huh, didn’t even think of that.”

 

“Neither did I. The operator did.”

 

I crossed my arms.

 

“Hey strange lady, who’s Caleb?”

 

“That’s not nice,” I said.

 

“Okay, lady on the road – who’s Caleb?”

 

She repeated his name again. That wasn’t helpful.
“How long do you think it’ll take for the cops to get here?” I asked, getting anxious.

 

“Should we just leave?”

 

“That’s not why I was asking.”

 

“I know, but I think we should leave. They’ll be here soon, anyway.”

 

“Someone else will hit her.”

 

“We’ll move her to the side of the road,” Lynnette said, showing no indication she wanted to move her.

 

I looked at the lady on the ground.

 

“I don’t want to touch her either.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I said.

 

We stood for a moment, watching her. She kept repeating the name Caleb. Maybe it was someone she knew, I wondered.

 

“Maybe it’s who dumped her here.”

 

I looked up at Lynnette. “Maybe her car went off the side of the road.”

 

“And she what? Walked over here and decided to take a nap?”

 

I put my hands on my hips.

 

“She got dumped here.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“How else did she end up here?”

 

I looked at the lady and kneeled down again. “Hey, lady. What’s your name?”
“Joy,” she responded, clear as day.

 

“Her name is Joy?” Lynnette asked. “That doesn’t sound right.”

 

“What do you mean it doesn’t sound right? How would a name sound?”

 

“I mean, she’s lying in the middle of the road, in the middle of nowhere, where the moon went missing and her name is Joy?”

 

“The moon didn’t go missing.”

 

“Then where did it go?”

 

“It was never there.”

 

“The moon was never there.”

 

“You know what I mean.” Lynnette was right, we shouldn’t stay. But we couldn’t leave her either. “I still don’t get why you think her name doesn’t sound right.”

 

“What’s that?” Lynnette pointed down the road behind me.

 

I spun around. “What the hell?”

 

“Are those kids? Walking down the road?”

It was one word, but it was enough to spring us into action. Joy grabbed my ankle when she screamed, “Run!”

Dyatlov Pass – Strange Happenings

Source: RT

The travelers began their journey on January 1 trekking along one of the most difficult paths starting from North Ural to the town of Ivdel, according to the emergency services.

The site where body was reportedly located is infamous for the tragic and mysterious deaths of nine hikers in 1959. The causes of their deaths are still unknown while the case is surrounded with controversy.

The Dyatlov pass was named after the leader of the hiking group that went missing, Igor Dyatlov. The group consisted of graduate students from of the Ural Polytechnic Institute. Their plan was to trek 350 kilometers on skis through the forests and Northern Urals to Mount Otorten (which is translated from the local Mansi language as ‘Don’t go There’). Initially there were 10 people in the group, but one of the hikers fell ill and was forced to abandon the venture.

On February 12, 1959 the nine failed to report to the scheduled end-point at a village called Vizhay. As a result of rescue efforts, the group’s tent was found on the slope of the Mount Kholat Syakhl (“Mountain of the Dead” in Mansi) on February 26. Investigators later determined that tent had been was cut with a sharp object from the inside.

The skiers also left all their belongings in the tent while apparently trying to urgently flee the campsite. After following footprints down the hill for about 1.5 km – some of those fleeing were wearing only socks, some were even barefoot – the search party found five bodies.

A view of the tent as the rescuers found it on February 26, 1959. © Wikipedia

Some of the hikers were wearing only underwear and their bodies showed signs of struggle such as fractured skulls and broken ribs. One of the women had her tongue missing. The search for the remaining four travelers who were located further into the woods took more than two months.

The Soviet criminal investigation in 1959 failed to establish the causes of the incident. The final report said that an unknown compelling force killed the people.

The incident which remains one of the most chilling unsolved mysteries of the 20th century sparked many theories in which investigators attempted to rebuild the chronology of events. The numerous explanations put forward included an avalanche, military tests seen by the hikers that the government was trying to hide, a hostile encounter with an unknown creature, or paranormal activity.

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The mystery of the Dyatlov Pass incident has inspired filmmakers to make a science fiction horror movie entitled ‘Devil’s Pass’ where five students investigate the incident.

Strange occurrences from the Dyatlov Pass incident: 

One hiker was found with her tongue ripped out. Blood found in the stomach indicates this happened while she was alive and not the result of being frozen. 

One hiker was found with 5 broken ribs

Another hiker was found with a crushed skull 

Two hikers, who died of hypothermia, were found near their campsite out of cover from the forest. Experienced hikers will build their camp/fire within the protection of the tress. 

Recently, in January of this year – another hiker was found dead in the same area. 

 

 

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What do you think happened in Dyatlov Pass?

Freak Accident

Something Paranormal

Yeti / Big Foot

Nuclear test site

Government conspiracy

Winter Tornado

UFO

Other

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Tomorrow When I Die – Teaser

Today commemorates 101 years since the Armenian Genocide. 1.5 million Armenians were tortured and killed in a silent genocide by the Ottoman Empire.

It’s a genocide that has yet to be officially recognized by the American and Turkish government. President Bill Clinton promised to bring this issue to the table during his campaign, yet failed to do so during his presidency.

1 year from today, Tomorrow When I Die will be released. A literary fiction story told by a 14 year old girl named Anahid. She tells her story from the grave. It’s a heart felt story that’s not only about the horrors of the genocide, but the love, sacrifice, loyalty, and friendship that is found in the darkest realms of terror and evil. A story about how an attempt at eradication ended up being a rise from the ashes.

Mark your calendars, spread the word and let’s count down together over the next 12 months for the world wide release of a story unlike any other. A story that needs to be shared.

It is my best work yet.

 

CHAPTER ONE

Death never comes easy. Sometimes it’s slow and the breath suffers. Sometimes it’s quick and it’s the heart that suffers. Not of the person who dies, but of the person who’s watching.

 

A pressed wing against the muddy ground and I can tell it’s broken. I don’t know what kind of bird it is, but I see many of them around. They are small and fly fast. The dark line of feathers from the beak to the inner corner of its tiny black eyes make it appear angry. ‘Looks like Mama when you eat too many of her Gatas’, my brother would say.

 

I stroke the bird’s soft feathers, like Baba would to my hair when I was sick. It would make me feel better. The tiny bird tries mercilessly to move its wing. An instinct, I wonder, to fly – even though it can barely breathe. I know death will come soon, but it doesn’t. It just suffers.

 

“You need to squash it,” Mama says and her voice startles me.

 

“No!”

 

“It’s suffering.” She stands over me, blocking out the sun. I can only see her outline and her hands are on her hips.

 

“No, Mama!”

 

She clucks her tongue at me and I hope she goes away. I’ll hate her forever if she squashes the bird. I don’t know if it’s a threat.

 

“You want it to suffer?”

 

I shake my head and feel the tears start to come. “I don’t want it to die,” I whisper.

 

“Everything dies, Anahid.”

 

I shake my head again.

 

“I don’t want it to,” is all I can say.

 

The sun is warm on my shoulders again and I know Mama is gone. She’s right. But I don’t know what to do. “I can’t hurt you little bird.” The tiny bird struggles to breathe and its eyes are crusted with dirt and mud and foam forms around the edges of its beak. Death is ugly.

 

I find a small boulder and can barely lift it. It will definitely do. My eyes are filled with tears and I barely locate where the bird is through my blurry vision.

 

“Please die,” I whisper. “I don’t want to do it.”

 

It moves the broken wing again and looks worse than it did seconds before. I close my eyes as tight as I can and chant ‘I’m sorry’ over and over as I drop the boulder on the little bird.

 

Mysterious Voicemail – Case of the Missing

If you’ve read Clusters: Case of the Missing, then you know I’ve been following David Paulides’ research on mysterious disappearance cases.

 

Here’s a recent voicemail that’s boggling everyone’s mind.

 

What are your thoughts?

 

 

Here’s an article on his disappearance

 

The Children at the Window CURSE

Since I began writing Children at the Window one thing after another has happened that has kept me from writing it. My dad suffered two aneurysms 6 months apart, my publisher and I had a falling out – and by falling out I mean she won’t pay me my royalties and has fallen off the face of the earth -, and twice my program has crashed (on a new computer) deleting two chapters. Did I mention it happened twice? In a row?

Anyway, all it did is made me want to finish it more and if anyone knows me, knows this is the LONGEST it’s taking me to complete a manuscript.
So, I’m convinced this book is cursed – and I can’t make any promises that it won’t bring black eyed children to anyone who reads it.

 

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