Coven and Coffin Blog Hop: From One Shore to the Next

Gather round and hold your lovers tight for this next haunting tale.

From One Shore to the Next

By Peter Dawes

Lady Liberty stood guard over us just as I had been warned she would, her distant gaze peering out across the harbor as though she could connect with some other soul standing across the ocean. The thought caused me a moment’s pause, distracting me from a rousing conversation happening near me centered on the technological marvel which was the boat we stood upon. Just like that, I had been captured by a wistful notion and sent back to the shore from where I had departed.

She had forced me to leave her. Love could find no way of sugarcoating this truth no matter how hard I tried to be gracious to my darling Anneleise. While she had attempted every practical reason under the sun to convince me it was for the best, I bought them just as readily as I did the thought she actually wanted me to go. Our affair had been complicated at best, convoluted at worst, and while I was a man of questionable morals from the start, even I struggled to define us.

Especially when our first tender moments together fell under rank deception.

My darling Anneleise. I could not fight the frown her memory summoned. She had been exquisite, her beauty something which defied mere aesthetics. Whatever gods had crafted Annie took care to imbue her with the graciousness of a noble, the patience of a saint, and the wisdom of a sage. As one could expect, this meant she fell into a relationship with a man who could see none of these attributes. After she failed to become pregnant three years into their marriage, she had been relegated to servitude. Nothing more.

When she thought herself alone, though, her true self shone through. She sang whilst cleaning the modest house she shared with her brother-in-law. Lithe feet twirled across the wood floors and the first time I caught her mid-spin, I wondered if she might have been a pixie. Even the brute she had wed could not kill such a carefree spirit, one which simply settled into demure when he returned from work. He’d grunt out a greeting and from there, would sit in his chair, waiting for dinner. Annie would return to the kitchen and hum the rest of the melody he had interrupted in softer, dulcet tones. For the most part, they carried out their separate existences with little incident. Until the night he made her cry.

I stood by as an unwitting bystander, my words trapped in my throat when Annie caught her foot on the rug and spilled his dinner. They both stared at the mess for several seconds, Annie too horrified to move and her husband seeing more than wasted food spattered across the floor. I winced when he breathed a heavy sigh and as he stood, feared he might raise a hand to strike her. What followed encompassed such a harsh upbraiding, however, that I believed Annie might have preferred being beaten. Through her tears, she dropped to her knees and wiped at the stained fabric.

It happened so quickly, I could not bring myself to stopping it. He had been on his way out the door when suddenly he paused, taking a deep breath and turning to look at her. She failed to notice it at first. Through sobs and sniffles she continued collecting food back onto a plate.

Annie startled when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Schatzi.” The tough, booming voice sounded calmer, and much more composed than it had several minutes ago. He shut the door, tossing his coat aside and walked to close the distance between them. Her eyes widened when he crouched beside her. “We’ll clean this up together. No more tears.” The corners of his mouth curled in an apologetic grin.

Nodding once, she remaining quiet whilst his hands reached for the plate. Hers shook as she handed it over, but she did, and seemed not apt to question the miracle. Perhaps that was the moment I should have said something, but I remained mute and allowed the rest of the evening to play out, even when her husband returned to his normal senses and failed to bring up what he had just done. We might have fooled Annie, but the woman bore more intellect than her simple demeanor suggested.

Over the next few weeks, the boorish man experienced rare moments of humanity, which shone through just as another upbraiding seemed eminent. One second, he would have his pipe lowered from his mouth, the insults dancing on his tongue, and the next, he would issue a compliment instead, and resume smoking. The ice thawed in such gradual stages, I thought she might remain ignorant of the changes. He kissed her again after having not touched her in months. He made her smile ear-to-ear, where only he had managed to conjure soft, determined grins onto her lips. One evening, their kisses had turned heated and his strong arms carried her into the privacy of their bedroom.

In the dark, in the still of the night, she finally called his bluff.

“Who are you?” she asked, her fingers tracing down the hand which had settled onto her stomach.

The inquiry spurred him to laugh. “Schatzi, what kind of foolish question is that?” he asked, stopping her gentle strokes by moving his hand.

Annie froze for a second, and then turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised in a dare. “You call me that. Schatzi. He never did. Not even on our wedding night.”

Those eyes – that crystal blue gaze which had managed to penetrate into my soul – would not look away and in that moment, I found my voice again. It might have sounded like her husband’s, bearing his timbre and diction, but the words which emerged were mine. “It’s still a foolish question. Shouldn’t it be what has gotten into you?”

The arched brow relaxed. Annie failed to blink. “No amount of drink or food or comfort would have made Wilhelm this tender, stranger. It never has. And I had accepted that a long time ago.”

“Should you have?”

“What business is that of yours?”

“I suppose I’ve made it my business.” I frowned – using his lips to frown – and nodded when Annie continued holding me hostage with her eyes. “If you think me a stranger, why have you let me into your bed?”

“That isn’t your business, either, especially if you won’t tell me who you are.”

“My name is Christian,” I said, “And I’ve come to protect you.”

The comment had been intended to be heartfelt. It prompted an uproarious amount of laughter from Annie, however, and as she asserted I was the one who needed protecting, I could not help but fall into hysterics with her. A night of visceral honesty followed, as did twenty-one blissful years of lapses on her husband’s part.

But she had sent me away. And I would be lucky if I ever saw her again.

I felt a tug, disrupting my thoughts and bringing me back to Lady Liberty, and what would be my new home. After five hundred years, I had been taken away from the continent on which I had lived and died, where I had experienced both love and loss more times than I dared to recount. The young lady who peered in my general direction smiled warmly as she clutched her purse and motioned to follow a young man dressed in uniform.

“Come, Papa. I don’t want to leave you behind,” she said. In her voice, I heard the delight of a child. In her laugh, I heard the tinkle of wind chimes, reminding me that while the world could still hold beauty, even if her mother had captured more than a fair share of it.

I sighed good-naturedly. “Very well, Marjorie,” I said, my steps lighter than air, my form passing through the obstacles stopping me from following along.

“Promise me you’ll stay with our daughter. I’m growing old, and don’t want you to be stuck with me while I die.”

“I promise,” I had said to Annie. Even if it had meant saying goodbye.

Peter Dawes is the author of The Vampire Flynn Series, published by the micro-press Crimson Melodies. His serial story, “A Maker and His Child” appears on the BloodTideZine website and short “Lost Highway” has been featured in the Nocturnal Embers anthology, also by Crimson Melodies. While primarily a novelist, he has also contributed to the story cycle Red Phone Box, featuring the work of fellow authors Warren Ellis, Dan Wickline, and more. Always working on something new, Peter leaves it up to the reader to decide if it’s by sunlight or candlelight.

You can follow the author on any of these sites…

·         Twitter: http://twitter.com/peterdawes

·         Facebook: http://facebook.com/AuthorPeterDawes

·         Wordpress: http://peterdawes.wordpress.com

The Vampire Flynn Series

Blurb:

As the moon rose over Philadelphia, on January 20, 1983, nobody could have known what was about to happen. Inside a coffee shop, a meeting between a young resident doctor and a redheaded vixen would end with a night of bloodshed. Two people would lay dead inside an apartment near Fairmount Park. A third victim would be claimed when their killer ran into the waiting arms of a vampire.

Rather than being met with eternal condemnation, however, Dr. Peter Dawes would wake several days later as a new creature. No longer possessing a pulse and with sharp teeth itching for purchase on human skin, Peter’s first days as an immortal would blossom into five years of decadent, sadistic killing. Exchanging the scalpel for a dagger and the scrubs for a suit, the man who once sought to heal would come to be known as the deadliest vampire ever to wield a sword. The covens referred to him as the Black Rose Assassin. To his maker, Sabrina, he was known as Flynn.

Her instrument in an ambitious struggle to gain control of the city, Flynn amassed a collection of conquests. All the while, secrets circled around him, speaking of special gifts and a human destiny left behind upon his turning. It would take an immortal named Anthony, a mysterious pendant, and a human sorceress named Monica for Flynn to learn the truth behind his turning. And what resulted would send a shockwave from the City of Brotherly Love outward to the rest of the world.

Join Flynn on his journey from ruthless assassin to immortal seer. In a mission which takes him to Chicago, Seattle, and the darkest corners of the globe, a vampire will reconnect with his humanity and a villain will become a reluctant hero. Along the way, wicked immortals, unlikely allies, and a society of gifted humans called the Supernatural Order will test the mettle of the reformed killer. In the end, a man divided will be forced to reconcile with his darkness, and two beings shall emerge from one.

Tomorrow we return with another story sure to raise some goosebumps. Be sure to visit the other blogs for some more festivities.

Peter Dawes: Stormy Night Flash Fiction
Jessica Fortunado: Halloween Treats and Recipes
Kayleigh Grian: Characters in Costume
M. R. Graham: Tributes to Those We’ve Lost
Kalya Curry: Murder Mystery Party

Don't forget to enter for your chance to win some Treats!

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Coven and Coffin Blog Hop: Melissa's Haunting

I'd like to pass out flashlight to a great up and coming author. She here to give you a little taste of spookiness. 

Melissa's Haunting

As she glanced up at her new school, Melissa swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her breakfast to stay down. She was not looking forward to starting her senior year as the new kid, especially in a small town where everyone had known each other their whole lives. This day was going to totally suck, she just knew it. For a split second she even debated on skipping, but she knew in a place like this, it would get back to her mom quickly. Besides, she'd just be putting off the inevitable. Melissa would have to face the scrutiny of her classmates sooner or later, might as well get it over with. She took a deep breath and headed into the building just as the first warning bell rang.

                                                  

Melissa made it through her first three classes of the day without any major incidents. Of course all the teachers had to embarrass the crap out of her by making her stand up front and introduce herself, but other than that everyone pretty much left her alone. She was surprised no one reached out to her at all, but at least they weren't teasing and harassing her either. As she headed to the cafeteria for lunch she hoped the rest of the day would go as smoothly as the first half.

There was an empty table on the far side of the lunch room and Melissa hoped it stayed empty until she could get to it. She really didn't want to have to ask the kids at a table if she could sit with them. She had purposefully brought her own lunch that day so that if need be she could go hide somewhere and eat. Back home she wasn't really a loner or anything like that, but she was a bit shy outside her small circle of friends. If someone had invited her to sit with them, she'd gladly accept, she just wasn't comfortable initiating the contact.

As she plopped her brown paper sack on the table, Melissa let out a sigh of relief. The table was hers. After pulling her food out of the bag and unwrapping everything, she opened the book she brought with her in case she ate alone. At least I'll get some reading in, she thought. She took a bite of her sandwich and halfway through the first paragraph someone sat down across from her.

"Hey! You're new here right?"

Melissa dog-eared the book and glance up to find a gorgeous blonde sitting in front of her. She looked like one of those cheerleader types, which immediately raised a red flag in her mind. She took a second to glance around to see if anyone was watching the table, just in case there was a prank about to be played on her. When she was satisfied no one was paying them attention, she replied, "Yeah, today is my first day. I'm Melissa."

"Nice to meet you Melissa. I'm Jenny Lark." The girl offered her a warm smile that seemed sincere.

"So what brought you over here to my lonely table?"

"I didn't recognize you, and since I know just about everyone that attends Cedar High, I figured I'd come say hi. Mind if I join you for lunch?"

"Sure. So, are you a senior?" Melissa asked as she took another bite of her sandwich.

"Yep. I should have graduated last year but some things came up and I ended up having to come back this year."

"Oh, wow, that must suck." Melissa was curious about what those "things" were but didn't want to pry. She figured if Jenny wanted her to know, she'd tell her. She'd hate to push away the one who'd showed any interest in her so far.

"It does, most my friends have left for college already so it's been kinda boring around here. But now that school started back up, hopefully things will pick up. Besides, now I have a new friend!"

The two girls continued to chat while Melissa ate her lunch. Melissa noticed that Jenny didn't eat anything but chalked it up to the stereotypical teenage girl watching her weight. She was lucky though, she could eat anything and not gain an ounce.

Jenny didn't seem to have any of the same classes she did so the girls made plans to meet after school and hang out for a while. The bell signaling the end of lunch rang just after they agreed on the town's park entrance as a meeting spot. Jenny explained to Melissa how to get to her next class and then rushed off to get to her own.

The rest of the day went by the same as the first half for Melissa. No one really spoke to her, other than the teachers. Sure, a few said hi in the hall or offered a smile in passing, but that was about it. She was just grateful she hadn't run into any trouble.

When the final bell rang she found herself excited to meet up with Jenny again. She hoped that maybe Jenny could introduce her to some other kids and eventually she'd have that small group of friends again that she missed back home. She grabbed her stuff from her locker and headed to the meeting spot. The park was empty when she got there so she sat on the bench by the entrance and started reading her book.

About a chapter into the book she realized that Jenny still hadn't shown. She checked her watch and realized over half an hour had passed. She waited another fifteen minutes before giving up, figuring either Jenny had played a cruel joke something had come up and she couldn't make it. On her walk home she decided to check Facebook to see if she could friend Jenny. Maybe they could chat and she'd find out what happened.

Melissa tossed her book bag on her bed and turned on her computer. Once it finished loading she did a search for Jenny on Facebook and was glad to see the girl had a page. What she found on the page though, shocked her. There were condolences and prayer messages left by others several months ago. Man, kids can be cruel. Wonder why they all did that to her, acting as though she had died. That's just mean, Melissa thought. She kept browsing the page but didn't see any recent activity, it looked as though the page had just been abandoned. Frustrated, she gave up for the evening and worked on her homework instead.

The next morning she was surprised to find Jenny out front waiting for her. "I thought I'd walk to school with you," the girl offered.

"What happened to you yesterday? I waited for almost an hour."

"Come with me, there's something I have to show you. It's on the way to school, it won't take but a couple extra minutes," Jenny pleaded.

Melissa gave in and the two started walking toward the school. Halfway there Jenny told her to follow her through a shortcut so she could show her why she never made it the day before. They walked through the trees on a dirt path that led into the town's cemetery.

"Why are we going in the cemetery? We shouldn't be here!" Melissa hissed as she looked around, anxious that Jenny was up to no good.

"Please, just come. You'll understand soon, we're almost there."

Melissa relented and continued to follow Jenny. This better be good, she thought. The path continued to wind through the empty cemetery. She felt goosebumps flash across her skin as a cold breeze blew through the air. Just as she was about to tell Jenny to forget it, the other girl turned off the path down a row of gravestones and stopped in front of one.

"We're here."

Melissa rolled her eyes and walked over to the headstone in front of Jenny. When she read the markings she did a double take. It read:

Jenny Lark

Feb 15th, 1995 - Oct 31st 2012

Beloved daughter, friend, sister

Taken too soon

When the shock wore off, Melissa looked around; Jenny was nowhere to be found. She sat down in front of the grave and pulled out her phone to Google Jenny's name. She found an article with Jenny's picture that said the girl had died in a freak accident on Halloween the year before. Melissa had been talking to a ghost.

Sapphire and Sage

When their parents were murdered, twin sisters Sapphire and Sage, were separated to keep them safe. That was 22 years ago. Now, just before their 25th birthday, they are reunited only to learn the true reason for their parent’s murder, magic. They are the current generation in a long line of powerful witches. Their family tree seems cursed, with tragedy and death haunting each generation, traced as far back as the 1700s.

The Night Rage Coven is a group of power hungry demons with the ability to steal magic as long as they can kill the last of a bloodline. When the twins inherit their powers, they become the latest target of the Coven. They must learn to work together and control their new magic before it is too late. Will they survive the hunt or will the bloodline end with them?

Sapphire and Sage is available for early download through LeanPub, a new publishing company that allows readers to purchase the book while it is still being written. Everyone who purchases a copy will get updates with each new chapter posted. As a special treat for those participating in the Coven and Coffin blog hop, use the coupon code: CovenAndCoffin to grab your free copy from Oct. 27^th through Nov 1^st! Get yours now!

About Kayleigh Grian

Kayleigh Grian is currently a part time student working on her Bachelor's Degree in Criminal Justice with a concentration in Computer Forensics and Security. She also works full time as a police dispatcher.

Kayleigh has always enjoyed writing, especially fiction and poetry. She is working on several projects including her first novel and a collection of short stories. Kayleigh enjoys reading as much as she does writing and will often go through a few books a week when she doesn't have a ton of homework to do.

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Don't forget to stop by tomorrow for another ghost story. Also, check out the other awesome websites:

Peter Dawes: Stormy Night Flash Fiction
Jessica Fortunado: Halloween Treats and Recipes
Kayleigh Grian: Characters in Costume
M. R. Graham: Tributes to Those We’ve Lost
Kalya Curry: Murder Mystery Party

You still have a chance to win the awesome prize pack:

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Coven and Coffin Blog Hop: Stolen Kisses

Welcome to the first post of the Coven and Coffin Blog Hop. Gather 'round boys and girls and for a tale to chill your bones.

Stolen Kisses

 by Kayla Curry

I was standing in a crowded street. People everywhere were chanting his name and holding signs that said they loved him. I should have been one of them. I was a fan, but I wasn’t a fanatic. I just stood there quietly with people chanting and jumping all around me. They were waiting for him to come out of the building. I have no idea how I even got swept up in this mess anyway. One minute I was walking down the sidewalk, and the next I was part of a flood of people fighting for the chance to see the movie star.

Suddenly, he emerged with his entourage. Roscoe Reed flashed a charming smile for the cameras, only it wasn’t Roscoe Reed. It was someone else disguised as Roscoe Reed. I could tell, but perhaps the screaming fans and paparazzi around me could not. I turned my attention to the people around me and found him in an instant. His eyes were unmistakable. I felt myself blush and was about to turn away when he made a move towards me. There were still plenty of people in the crowd between us, and still, no one noticed him. A few more steps and he would be right in front of me. As I realized this, I became frozen.

A sort of chemistry passed between us and I was officially under his spell.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said as his right hand ran through his black hair.

It took a moment for it to register that he was talking to me. I snapped out of it and let him lead me away. In an instant we were no longer in the crowded street, but in a secluded VIP room of a club. It was just the two of us.

Then I remembered.

This had to be a dream. Roscoe Reed was dead. He was killed in a car accident months ago. It had been splashed all over the front pages of newspapers and tabloids.

Then I got the worst feeling. He was drawing me in with his charm, but since it was a dream, I knew that if I kissed him something horrible would happen.

An eerie music began in the background. He seemed to control it. He now controlled everything in the dream--including me. I felt my anxiety dmelt away as he came closer and kissed me. I closed my eyes and opened them.

I was back in my room and so was Roscoe Reed. His figure was opaque as he pulled away from the kiss.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I stole all of your kisses. You won't remember anything about anyone you've ever kissed."

I then noticed the person sleeping next to me. I didn't recognize him, but there was a photo of us on the nightstand. I was in a wedding dress and he was in a tux.

"Why?" I said to the ghost that was no longer there. I stared at the photograph for the rest of the night, trying desperately to remember anything about the man I must be married to, but nothing came.

About the author:

Kayla Curry lives in North Platte, Nebraska with her husband and two children. She likes spending time with family and friends when she’s not writing or planning out her conquest of the world. People who know her would say that she is sweet and kind, but her book characters would disagree. Her other hobbies include reading, metal detecting and research of local history. You can visit her website at http://www.kaylacurry.com to keep up on her progress in the Mystic Stones Series and her other works.

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Grab Kayla's 99 cent creepy horror short story Oomph! on Amazon or Smashwords. Or pick up her free short story Ruby, on Amazon or Smashwords. Ruby is the short story companion to her paranormal novel, Obsidian, and can be read before or after the novel.

Be sure to stop by for more ghost stories all week. Also, head over to these great blogs for more Halloween festivities.

Peter Dawes: Stormy Night Flash Fiction
Jessica Fortunado: Halloween Treats and Recipes
Kayleigh Grian: Characters in Costume
M. R. Graham: Tributes to Those We’ve Lost
Kalya Curry: Murder Mystery Party

 Last but not least, enter this awesome Giveaway.

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