Read a Free Excerpt from Horror Addicts Guide to Life 2!

Calling All Horror Fans!
HorrorAddicts.net Press Presents: 

HAGL2Banner1

Free excerpt from Horror Addicts Guide to Life 2

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Real Winter Horror

by Emerian Rich

I spent many of my formative years in Alaska. It was quite an adventure and I don’t think anything in my life could replicate the mixture of surreal, magical, and just bizarre things that I experienced. So, when someone asks if I have any winter Horror stories, I just sit back and laugh. Most of them have to do with my active imagination and the fact that sometimes your mind weaves tales more horrific than what is actually going on.

Should I tell you about the time I think I saw a supernatural creature out of the high (seven-foot) window of a cabin?

What about the time I thought I was being stalked by a guy in military garb who watched me through infrared binoculars from the woods?

Or the tale of exploring my “backyard” floored with spongy (bouncy) tundra and coming across several abandoned structures and an old station wagon that still held belongings such as photos and identification?

Or maybe I should thrill you with the spooky Halloween tale where me and my BFF (Love ya, Brandi!) went out trick-or-treating despite an escaped convict on the loose from a nearby penitentiary? Boy, were we all a-jitter when we had survived two woodsy blocks only to be startled by another set of peeps in costumes!

There were trips to far off towns in doomsday blizzards, spooky sounds of animals unknown, and that one time part of my friend’s ear fell off from frostbite—no joke.

But believe it or not, by far the scariest creature I encountered in Alaska was a moose. You may laugh, but they aren’t all innocent and docile like Northern Exposure makes them look. Sure, people in Alaska get used to having them around—we had a momma and her babies living on our property—but that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous.

Let me preface my scary tale with the fact that I had three earlier encounters with these animals that made me leery to begin with.

To read more, go to: https:/www.amazon.com/dp/B09YNF5QM3

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HAGL2small2Do you love the horror genre? Do you look at horror as a lifestyle? Do the “norms” not understand your love of the macabre? Despair no longer, my friend, for within your grasp is a book written by those who look at horror as a way of life, just like you. This is your guide to living a horror addict’s life.

Our month-by-month almanac with important dates, movie lists, puzzles, crafts, articles, and recipes will guarantee your whole year is occupied with delightful horror activities. Don’t miss our monster guide with articles about vampires, zombies, ghosts, and some creatures that just can’t be categorized. Enjoy interviews with creators of horror content and hear perspectives from different cultures and backgrounds. Read stories of real hauntings, nightmares, and vile vacations.

Allow us to curate your horror lifestyle.

With articles by: A. Craig Newman, A.D. Vick, Alyson Faye, Angela Yuriko Smith, Brian McKinley, CM Lucas, Camellia Rains, Carrie Sessarego, Chantal Boudreau, Courtney Mroch, Crystal Connor, D.J. Pitsiladis, Dan Shaurette, Daphne Strasert, Dee Blake, Emerian Rich, Geneve Flynn, H.E. Roulo, H.R. Boldwood, J. Malcolm Stewart, James Goodridge, Jaq D Hawkins, Jeff Carroll, Jonathan Fortin, Kate Nox, Kay Tracy, Kerry Alan Denney, Kieran Judge, Kristin Battestella, Ksenia Murray, Lee Murray, Lionel Ray Green, Loren Rhoads, M.D. Neu, Mark Orr, Martha J. Allard, Michael Fassbender, Mimielle, Naching T. Kassa, Pamela K. Kinney, Priscilla Bettis, R.J. Joseph, R.L. Merrill, Rena Mason, Renata Pavrey, Rhonda R. Carpenter, Russell Holbrook, Selah Janel, Steven P. Unger, Sumiko Saulson, Tabitha Thompson, Theresa Braun, Trinity Adler, Valjeanne Jeffers.

Available now at: Amazon.com

New Book! Northanger by Emmy Z. Madrigal

Northanger  by Emmy Z. Madrigal
PRE-ORDER NOW!

3dKat is a horror fan. She loves to read, watch, and listen to ghostly, frightening things most people shy away from. When she meets her perfect match, Henry, she knows he’s made just for her, but finding out his father may be a murderer, puts a different spin on their relationship. Is Henry’s dad out for blood or just a misunderstood introvert who’s lost his wife? Only a trip to the famed murder house, Northanger, will reveal the truth.

Northanger is a contemporary rewrite of Jane Austen’s least rebooted classic novel, Northanger Abbey. The Clueless version, Northanger explores the fish out of water story of gothy teen Kat, as she’s introduced to the high-society scene of New York City. What would happen if Beetlejuice’s Lydia was plopped into Gossip Girl New York City?

“Emmy Z. Madrigal has crafted a delightful story based on Jane Austen’s classic, Northanger Abbey. She has spun it into a modern story that suits Miss Austen’s novel perfectly. Her modern heroine, Katherine Moorland (Kat), is a young girl who has lived a simple life on a farm, but has a vivid imagination that has been heavily influenced by the horror books she reads, the spooky music she listens to, and the macabre films she watches. It is a book that will appeal to both Jane Austen fans and lovers of the gothic novel, having fun elements of both.” ~ Kara Louise, author of Pirates and Prejudice a variation of Jane Austen’s novel, Pride and Prejudice.


Emmy Z. Madrigal’s love affair with Jane Austen may have started late, but her belief that true love can overcome prejudices, differences, and adversity started very early on. Northanger is her modern take on Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey. Emmy lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and son.

GuestBlog: “Blood and Dust” a New Story From Tara Vanflower

Harkening back to the glory days of gothic romance that had us up reading all night, HorrorAddicts.net Press Presents:

Haunts & Hellions edited by Emerian Rich

HHCoverPromo13 stories of horror, romance, and that perfect moment when the two worlds collide. Vengeful spirits attacking the living, undead lovers revealing their true nature, and supernatural monsters seeking love, await you. Pull the blinds closed, light your candle, and cuddle up in your reading nook for some chilling—and romantic—tales.

With stories by: Emily Blue, Lucy Blue, Kevin Ground, Rowan Hill, Naching T. Kassa, Emmy Z. Madrigal, R.L. Merrill, N.C. Northcott, Emerian Rich, Daniel R. Robichaud, Daphne Strasert, Tara Vanflower, and B.F. Vega.

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An excerpt from Haunts & Hellions

 Blood and Dust

Tara Vanflower

1930, Oklahoma

The tents were empty, dust blowing through them, canvas flapping violently. Rosalyn huddled inside her wagon, daring not to move. Not yet. It was too quiet. All the voices had died down and the animals were silent. An elephant’s trumpeting sounded off in the distance.

Run, Eleanor. Be free.

She could picture Eleanor, her elephant friend, roaming across the vast duned plains looking for her lost sisters from another continent. Elephants never forget and so many times Rosalyn had been haunted by the pained look of sadness in the elephant’s teary eyes. How confused she must have been, taken from her home, only to be locked by chains and forced to perform for dolts who laughed at her dancing, not knowing, or caring, how she suffered.

I’m sorry.

Eleanor would survive better than any of the humans could. She had taken out quite a few of the bandits with her stomping feet and massive waving trunk. If only she’d had her tusks. That would have been a show.

Rosalyn’s wagon rocked with a burst of wind. The sound of the pelting sand outside grew deafening. When would it pass?

A moment of quiet was just enough to look out. Just enough to see if anyone had survived the attack.

It had been stupid to bring the carnival to Oklahoma. No one had any money there, but they were making their way toward California, the land of milk and honey. Rosalyn would never get there now, everyone was dead. Everyone. If it hadn’t been for her abilities and the cabinet in her wagon in which she hid, she might be dead, too.

She closed her eyes. Her heart ached. They had taken her in as family when her father sold her to the traveling band. She had been one of them. Now, they were all dead. And for what? A few measly coins? Some horses? Some wagons? Food? People were savages when they were hungry. She wondered if the bandits had even left the bodies behind. Perhaps they made a meal of them, too. At least some of them had also been killed.

Good job, Elenor. She looked down at her hands and squeezed them tightly.

***

 “Mama, Mama!” she cried out, her voice shrill in her ears, strangled by tears. “Mama! Wake up, Mama!”

“You took off the gloves! We told you to never take off the gloves!” Her father wept. “It’s all your fault, Rosy. We told you to never take off the gloves!”

“But Mama was sick. I was trying to help her,” she cried.

“She was sick because of you and now she’s dead!”

Rosalyn awoke with a start, her heart pounding like horse hooves in her chest. She sucked in a deep breath and held it, opening her eyes to peer out at blackness. It was nighttime, the winds had died down. She was still alive, still safe inside her cabinet. Dare she creep out? Dare she view the aftermath?

No. Not yet. Still too soon. They could be lingering nearby. She wasn’t ready to see the aftermath.

Sleep. She pulled her gloves up, tightening the leather against her fingers, and tucked her folded hands beneath her hot cheek. She closed her eyes. When the sun rose, she would try. She couldn’t stay inside this cabinet forever. No more dreams.

To read more, read Haunts and Hellions at: Amazon.com

“Left Behind” a New Story From Emerian Rich

Harkening back to the glory days of gothic romance that had us up reading all night, HorrorAddicts.net Press Presents:

Haunts & Hellions edited by Emerian Rich

HHCoverPromo13 stories of horror, romance, and that perfect moment when the two worlds collide. Vengeful spirits attacking the living, undead lovers revealing their true nature, and supernatural monsters seeking love, await you. Pull the blinds closed, light your candle, and cuddle up in your reading nook for some chilling—and romantic—tales.

With stories by: Emily Blue, Lucy Blue, Kevin Ground, Rowan Hill, Naching T. Kassa, Emmy Z. Madrigal, R.L. Merrill, N.C. Northcott, Emerian Rich, Daniel R. Robichaud, Daphne Strasert, Tara Vanflower, and B.F. Vega.

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An excerpt from Haunts & Hellions

 

Left Behind

Emerian Rich

1916

New York City

“Time for your tonic.”

Often Glorianna woke to her mother standing over her, bottle and spoon in hand.

“Take it.” Her mother’s voice was a combination of sandpaper and vinegar. Always irritated, always impatient.

“I just took some,” Glorianna’s voice didn’t sound like her own. Scratchy and unused, it croaked out like that of an older lady with consumption, not a seventeen-year-old Manhattan socialite.

“That was hours ago.”

“But I can’t eat. It’s giving me a sour stomach.”

Mother huffed. “It’s as if you don’t want to get well.”

“I do. I just—”

“Really? Because all I hear are complaints. Here’s your serum.” She slammed the bottle down on the bedside table. “Take it if you want, I don’t care anymore. Ungrateful little…”

“Mama, please. I’ll take it. I didn’t mean to…”

Mother threw the spoon back at her and it landed on Glorianna’s weakened legs. She barely felt it. Both Glorianna and her mother stared at the spoon, the action meaning so much more than a simple fight. It pointed a finger at the horrible illness they both had been dealing with for far too long.

Mother slowly picked up the spoon, took the bottle of tonic gingerly from the table, and uncapped it.

Glorianna obediently held open her mouth, wincing as the acrid taste hit her tongue. She closed her eyes and swallowed, taking the immediate glass of water offered and downing as much as she could, praying the acidic taste would fade with dowsing.

“I’ll have Pritchett bring you toast.” Mother slammed the decaying door to her room and left Glorianna alone in the dark.

Only after her mother left did Glorianna gag at the lingering taste of the pungent serum. She’d been taking the tonic for months. Would she ever be free from it?

Rain pattered the windows on another gloomy day in Manhattan. How she longed to go and sit to watch the storm pelt Fifth Avenue. Despite the downpour, Central Park still managed to raise her spirits. The trees reminded her of happier times when she and her friends would walk in the park. But her friends were gone.

They said the polio epidemic only hit the poor, but it had traveled through her ritzy club fast enough. Lila Billings had been the first to succumb to the disease.

At that time, Glorianna had been well enough to attend Lila’s funeral. The last memory of her friends was from Lila’s funeral, all lined up in mourning black, some hunched, and a few in chairs. With Lila in the ground, she could no longer bring Glorianna out of the doldrums with her bright smile.

Glorianna longed for her friends, for the excitement of normal life. She’d been asked to the fall dance by Tommy Opalson. He was the cutest boy at the club, but as the dance neared, a sympathy card from Mrs. Opalson to her mother had expressed their wish for Glorianna to return to health and to regret his cancellation. And that’s all. No visits from Tommy.

None of her friends, even the sick ones, had visited or written. In fact, if the club hadn’t sent the circular every month, she’d not even know which of her friends still survived. She wasn’t sure which was worse, the announcement of recovery or death? If they were dead, it was sad and she’d never see them again. But if they recovered, it just marked one more person who had overcome what she could not.

Quickly approaching her eighteenth year, Glorianna still had yet to share a kiss or even receive an amorous note, flowers, or chocolates. She was crippled and barely able to stay awake. When she was awake, she would spend most of her time nauseous. Were she able to find an appropriate and willing suitor, she doubted she’d inspire enamored feelings once he witnessed her constant regurgitations.

She sat alone in her high gloomy tower, in a deteriorating house, watching the world recover outside. Others happily went about their days, bright electrics from inside showing her a world she could only dream of. Stuck in a world of dim light, old furnishings, and spooky corridors she could no longer walk, Glorianna longed to be away from the wretched house.

To read more, read Haunts and Hellions at: Amazon.com

Dark Divinations Party – Facebook, Saturday, May 23rd

Come join Emz and the whole cast of authors at the
Facebook Book Party!
Readings, Games, Prizes, Fun, Trivia!
This Saturday, May 23rd, 2020
starting with a
WatchParty @ 1pm PDT
and a
Facebook Party @ 2pm PDT

Dark Divinations
Edited by Naching T. Kassa

Authors: Stephanie Ellis, Michael Fassbender, Alan Fisher, H.R.R. Gorman, Ash Hartwell, Hannah Hulbert, Naching T. Kassa, R.L. Merrill, Joe L. Murr, Jeremy Megargee, Jon O’Bergh, Emerian Rich, Rie Sheridan Rose, Daphne Strasert

“Rich and dizzying.” ~ Alyson Rhodes

“I enjoyed every story. Who wouldn’t want to read this?” ~ The Book Lovers Boudoir

“The stories are extremely well written and very engaging.” ~ Horror Madam

It’s the height of Queen Victoria’s rule. Fog swirls in the gas-lit streets, while in the parlor, hands are linked. Pale and expectant faces gaze upon a woman, her eyes closed and shoulders slumped. The medium speaks, her tone hollow and inhuman. The séance has begun.

Join us as we explore fourteen frightening tales of Victorian horror, each centered around a method of divination. Can the reading of tea leaves influence the future? Can dreams keep a soldier from death in the Crimea? Can a pocket watch foretell a deadly family curse? From entrail reading and fortune-telling machines to prophetic spiders and voodoo spells, sometimes the future is better left unknown.

Choose your fate.
Choose your DARK DIVINATION.

Available now in Print and Kindle ~ Dark Divinations

 

 

“The Pocket Watch” by Emerian Rich in Dark Divinations

HorrorAddicts.net Press Presents:

Dark Divinations edited by Naching T. Kassa

It’s the height of Queen Victoria’s rule. Fog swirls in the gas-lit streets, while in the parlor, hands are linked. Pale and expectant faces gaze upon a woman, her eyes closed and shoulders slumped. The medium speaks, her tone hollow and inhuman. The séance has begun.

Can the reading of tea leaves influence the future? Can dreams keep a soldier from death in the Crimea? Can a pocket watch foretell a deadly family curse? From entrail reading and fortune-telling machines to prophetic spiders and voodoo spells, sometimes the future is better left unknown.

Choose your fate.

Choose your DARK DIVINATION.


An excerpt from Dark Divinations

 The Pocket Watch

Emerian Rich

Northern England 1883

Gretchen Windemere stood tall in her sapphire taffeta bustle dress, her neck and vermillion hair adorned with sapphire velvet ribbons and pearls. She smiled and nodded as her new husband gave her a tour of his family estate in Northern England. She’d never been inside such an antique home in her life. Growing up in Manhattan, she was no stranger to glamor but her family mansion was no older than 1780. Harrison’s estate had been built in the 1500s, seen kings and queens, lords and dukes, and at least eleven Lady Windermeres in its time. She was the newest and most unlikely mistress of the house being American and “new money.”

“Gretchen? Did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry?” She turned, taking in her new husband, Harrison. He was bright and trim and easy-on-the-eyes. All the things young girls like Gretchen looked for in a mate.

“This is to be your private study.” He smiled, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Would you like to stay here while I attend to some business?” Harrison’s butler, Prescott, stood by inspecting her with almost a sneer. She supposed the right answer would be yes.

“Certainly.”

“I’ll return for you at luncheon.” Harrison kissed her once on the cheek and left with his butler in tow.

Gretchen removed her traveling gloves and took in the room, admiring the antiques and placement of all the furniture. The color scheme of the room was very last-century, harkening back to the white and gold of Versailles. The desk sat in the middle of the room, facing the two front windows that looked out over the gardens to the right or left of a dainty golden mirror. A luxurious settee sat in front of the massive gold-encrusted fireplace mantle. A toasty roost if she were chilled. The chaise lounge near the closest window looked a sublime place for an afternoon nap. Everything seemed to be in the precise place it should be.

How very efficient the last Lady Windermere had been. So efficient, Gretchen felt the need to adjust the chaise ever so slightly askew just to break up the perfection.

Gretchen’s life in Manhattan had been too perfect. Her mother had groomed her from birth to be the prettiest, the most refined, the classiest girl in all of New York City. Her friends were Vanderbilts and Astors. Their pastimes were tea parties and cotillions.  She’d been taught the manners, the traditions, and the tastes of the extremely wealthy. But after fulfilling her mother’s purpose for her—marrying a titled man—she was of no use to her anymore. It was her sister’s turn to catch a lord, duke, or count. It was all so cold, Gretchen could barely stand it.

Luckily, she just happened to be in love with Harrison. They had met at the Vanderbilt Ball that spring, she in a forest sprite costume and he dressed as a matador. He made her laugh before she knew his title. His quirky disposition and a promise of a life away from the New York City social scene sealed the deal. By September they were wed and as October drew to a close, they’d returned to his country estate to settle in for the winter.

Satisfied with her private study furniture arrangement being “not-quite-perfect” Gretchen set to the arduous task of writing her family. First, she’d write to her mother—saying all the things she’d been taught to say—then shortly to her father, and finally to her sister.

At half-past eleven, Harrison strolled into the room, catching Gretchen as she stared out into the garden.

“Love, I have come to take you to lunch, but first, a surprise.”

“You’re going to spoil me with all the gifts,” Gretchen said, turning to find him holding out a red velvet box.

“You deserve all this and more. I can’t believe I convinced you to come overseas. To leave your family…”

“My family is nothing to me, you know that. Though, I do miss my beloved Annie.”

“There is a reason I fell in love with you. A woman who loves her horse more than her family. How am I so lucky?”

She smiled. “I do love riding.”

“But this gift isn’t from me, it’s from my mother.”

“Oh.” Gretchen’s heart pulled when he spoke of his family. Both his father and mother were deceased. They’d left him only a few years apart and the wounds were still very close to the surface. “I’m honored.” She took the box from him and opened it.

Inside was a golden pocket watch, by its appearance very old, but shined to the hilt.

“It was my mother’s. I’m only sorry she couldn’t give it to you herself.”

“It’s stunning.”

The pocket watch was rather large for a lady to carry, but had evidently been repurposed for Lady Windermere. A golden chain enabled the owner to wear it as a necklace and Gretchen looped it over her neck, admiring the impression of the Windermere crest on the front. Gretchen pushed the crown and the door flipped open, displaying the hands of the clock inching forward. On the inside of the door, a mirror had been inlaid at its base. Although the brilliancy of the glass was faded with age, Gretchen could see her Josephine curls and velvet choker in the reflection. She closed the watch with a click and hugged Harrison.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful. I feel so honored to have something of your mother’s.”

Harrison smiled sadly, taking her hand.

To read more, go to: Amazon.com or order the special edition, signed copy with hand-painted tarot cards at HorrorAddicts.net