Grave Echoes by Erin Cole

Been waitin' too long... and finally - it's here!

The Feardom is very excited that Erin Cole's début novel Grave Echoes is now up for grabs - and grab it you should. Her writing is mysterious, dark and exquisite, laden with sensual and poetic treats.

Grave Echoes is on my wish list - don't you dare get it before I do! But if you must, then take a look at Erin's blog 'Listen to the Voices' to find out where you can buy it. If you're in the UK like me you can get it from Amazon.co.uk.

Congratulations Erin, bring on Wicked Tempest.

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Magenta Sweeney, aka Magenta Shaman reminisces on the day - twelve years before - when life finally threw her into the gutter.

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Magenta's mother Rosa has a hard time dealing with her daughter's fits and trances, her visions and healing hands. A shaman from birth like her errant father, Magenta has always unwittingly terrified Rosa, even though the girl is desperate for her mother's love. No longer able to cope Rosa gives Magenta an ultimatum - find an elixir to cure her baby half-sister's worsening skin disease, or get the hell out and leave them alone.

***

Although the books are solid fiction, Magenta's memory spills out as poetry here. I haven't asked her why.

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Find out more about Magenta's terrifying shamanic journeys by downloading the very first episode in the Magenta Shaman series to your Kindle from Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com.

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She’s Leaving Home

Just sixteen,

she’s bouncing off strobe lights

at Slippy’s.

No drink.

No drugs.

Livid pulses flood

her eyes.

Throbbing beat

loving her feet,

she dances -

all ballet and wedgie sandals.

Arms flail.

Fingertips pitch and point

to the flickering

in the dull ceiling.

With clubbers clubbing

all around

Magenta takes the spinning world

by the Minotaur’s horns.

She jumps on his back,

transcends the borders.

Falls fast, eyes wide open

rising and falling in trance.

Touches, pale snatches

at slivers of skin,

the shaman reaps the harvest.

It is morning.

Baby sister cries and squeals.

Magenta grafts

ancient epidermis

as their mother looks on.

For once... for once

all fails.

Her sister is gone

and her mother wants none

of her strangest of skills,

and her father –

missing -

for ever and ever...

it’s too much.

“You’re just like him.

“Get out.”

She walks down Brighton’s streets

alone.

Veils of power

shield Magenta from

the dark and the desperate.

Mourning and lonely

she slips into a damp corner

to sleep.

“My darling.”

Daddy’s voice, always in dreams.

“It’s time.”

The shaman awakes,

money in her pocket,

a typed address on a note,

a key of gold in her hand.

More about Magenta Shaman...
Download the first episode in the series from Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com

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Esoteric Artwork

Laurence Ranger is an esoteric artist inspired by alchemy, rune lore and Saxon mythology. And that's mild compared to what spouts forth from his brain.

A swordsman and archer Laurence has studied weaponry all his life. He has his own art and lifestyle methodology which incorporates shamanic and magickal practices together with heathen spiritual meditation. From this, and the unfathomable creatures that visit him when he's least expecting them - demanding to be recorded on paper - Laurence has built up a diverse collection of artwork.

He specialises in printmaking, etching and engraving but also works extensively in charcoal, pen and ink and pencil. After decades of working in black and white, he has recently discovered colour.

Laurence is currently working on a twelve-card tarot set - a simple number but a far from simple system - based on his own cosmology and established correspondences. He's asked me to help build his blog so that he can share the design and thought process. He'll also use it as an exhibition space for his existing work.

Give me a few days to get it right, then come back to see what he has to offer. He will also be July's guest interviewee - a serious look into a dark mind.

Magenta Shaman

Magenta visited a lair today. The journey was not so much hard, as difficult to see through the ether.

When she got to her destination, courtesy of a very cross white stallion and a persistent eagle, she had to travel down a dragon's spine to find what she was seeking.  And by the Goddess, was she disturbed at who she found there.

Trouble is, the man was quite content to slumber, but after 20,000 odd years, Magenta's woken him up. He ain't happy.

A word from Madge

There are planes out there, the like of which you've never seen, could never imagine in your wildest dreams.

There are places you couldn't even begin to conceive of.

Next time you meditate, drift away, lose yourself in reverie - do your damndest to remember it afterwards. Write it down. Don't say 'it ain't so'. It is - I saw you there.

Magenta Shaman

March 4th 2010

New work

After feeling ill (nothing serious) for several weeks I'm pleased to have submitted a pretty gross piece to the splendiferous Thrillers Killers n Chillers this evening, as well as a flash piece, a full 'Telling Tales' fiction piece and a pome to TR Shaw's marvellous 'A Darker Spirit.'

Hope all is well with all involved.

The Dark Monarch Exhibition - Towner, Eastbourne

A new, extraordinary exhibition hit Eastbourne yesterday.

The press release says:
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The Dark Monarch: Magic and Modernity in British Art

23 January – 21 March 2010

This group exhibition explores the influence of folklore, mysticism, mythology and the occult on the development of art in Britain. Focusing on works from the beginning of the twentieth century to the present day it will consider, in particular, the relationship they have to the landscape and legends of the British Isles.

Taking its title from the infamous 1962 book by St Ives artist Sven Berlin, the exhibition features major loans from the Tate Collection, regional collections, lenders and artists, and will examine the development of early Modernism, Surrealism and Neo-Romanticism in the UK, as well as the reappearance of esoteric and arcane references in a significant strand of contemporary art practice.
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We went along, by invitation, and were blown away. If you know us, you'll be aware how important this kind of collection is to us.

There were works by geniuses Austin Osman Spare and Graham Sutherland as well as Paul Nash, Barbara Hepworth, Bryan Wynter and Ithell Colquhoun, plus many more, including local artist Eric Ravilious.

We looked at the esoteric bookshelves that are part of the exhibition and almost had to check that our own library hadn't been invaded - which of course it hadn't because, sadly, we don't own first editions.

Towner were holding people back at the door, because they were at capacity. But once we were in, we fell in deep. The exhibition is on the ground and top floors. Much of it left an exquisite taste in our senses, bar a couple of contrived photographs and, sadly, Damien Hirst's Unicorn.

Well worth it. We're going to pay again, and probably again, to go back.

Go see it. Towner Eastbourne.

Opening hours: Tuesday – Sunday 10am – 6pm; closed Mondays except Bank Holidays.

Admission to The Dark Monarch: £5.50 / £4 concessions / under 18s free. Admission to Towner and other exhibitions: free of charge.

A recommendation

Lee Hughes' latest episode in his diabolical series The Osseus Box 'The Path of Flames' is now up at TKnC (Thrillers Killers n Chillers).

It's a garden of very unearthly delights. Read it...

Milestone looming

Only 5,000 words to go until I'm at the halfway stage. Am aiming for 100,000 words which I'll then rabidly edit and crop once the first draft is typed up. I know I then need to elaborate in many areas, which will bring the word count back up again. I also need to do some final research, and interview local police - offers, anyone?

I typed up a diabolical little number today, which is coming together nicely. He's such a show off.

I had a bit of an epiphany on my original novel today. It's been sitting in the drawer for years now, waiting for the next step. Think I've got it (which will please certain people). Something to move onto once the current one is finished.

The Book

The past is coming back to haunt Alex and the residents of a little Sussex village. Will she go the way of her forebears?

Alex has had the fright of her life but STILL she manages to carry on, and shut it out. She's a freak.

The police have more clues, as a victim remembers a key fact - one that saved their life.

Do you want more...?

Back on the road...

The novel moves on.

Alex discovers something dodgy that explains a lot - and maybe we start to like her a little.

Meanwhile, a nasty person is getting frustated and frantic - at least one more victim is going to die at this rate. Yet someone is protecting the murderer.
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Feeling very inspired by the hail storms outside and the creeking floorboards inside. A drip of Merlot slips from my lips and slides, slowly down my chin. I watch it stain my dress as it falls. Mmmmnn...

Latest Tale posted on Thrillers Killers 'n' Chillers

My latest short chiller, Ghost Story, has been published at http://thrillskillsnchills.blogspot.com/2009/10/ghost-story-by-lily-childs.html

Excerpts:

"I come at the behest of all souls who have trodden this Earth, who still roam her surface unseen – overlapping by the millions – to give you fair warning..."

"Leave your séances to the Victorian parlour. Why reach out for us? Why drag us back when we do not want to return?.."

"The isolated, heady-scent of Damask Rose in a single spot in your house; water tumbling from washer-tight taps; a freezing cold finger at the nape of your neck in the heatwave of summer..."
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I think 'The Narrator' in the tale agrees with Mr Brown for once - there is no Plan B.

Ghost Hunting

I want to hear your experiences of ghosts and spirits. What did you see, hear or feel? Where did this happen? When did it happen? Did anyone else experience this?

Add your comments below, or fill in my contact form at http://www.lilychilds.co.uk/contact.php

I might use your experience for some of my characters in a forthcoming novel (unless you object.)

Additionally, if I get enough responses I might consider an anthology.

Col Bury - a crime writer's choice

Check out my virtual mate Col Bury's blog - Col Bury's New Crime Fiction. Very inspiring.

You might just find a couple of things on there by little 'ole me and some other maties.

Feardom in Alex's house

All hell has broken loose. Last night's writing episode had me quaking in my (brand-new kinky) boots.

My own house was trembling; knocking. I felt like I was being watched - I'm sure I am.

The novel - happenings

Alex is getting pestered. Her nasty side's getting a good knock on the head. But we're learning who she is and where she came from, the whys and the wherefores.

The police are onto her, but not in a way you might think.

Others are hovering, waiting to be noticed. Some are in the book; some are over my shoulder - vying for space.

More soon...

My Writing

I feel privileged that some of my writing has been published on Matt Hilton (Author of Dead Men's Dust) and Col Bury's Thriller Killers 'N' Chillers blog.


I'd love to hear what you think.

You can read a few of my stories to date. Excerpts below - just grab the link to read the full nasty little tale:

Scuttle. Oh, I so enjoyed writing this horrid little gothic number...

Ghost Story. Forget 2012...
I come at the behest of all souls who have trodden this Earth, who still roam her surface unseen – overlapping by the millions – to give you fair warning.

Welfare and School Gates. This one's here on the blog...

'Unft mother'
I stop suddenly. I pivot on sodden leaves; rain penetrates the holes in the souls of my boots. There's no-one there.

Slideshow. All very jolly hockeysticks:

‘So that was my trip to Windsor. Lovely gardens, aren’t they? Now, here’s my world falling apart. Look. See, you can just make out my husband’s feet sticking out from behind the sofa.

The Apprentice. Fangtastic flash fiction:

'...blood fell into his mouth from where it had congealed. He licked it, blending the flakes and his saliva into a sticky fluid.'

Watched. Don't mess with madness:

'They’re always there now, watching. I don’t know what they want. I don’t know what they’re waiting for.'

Fashion Victim. Death and horror on the catwalk:

'...I arranged for my guts to spill as I took my final step on the catwalk, models towering above my slight frame, praising and applauding me, all glittering in the darkness of my exquisite designs.

Grub Up. Short, 'flash fiction' story about a desperate hunger with particular tastes:

'Vanessa was skeletal. I could barely get any meat off her bones so I just gnawed away at the stringy flesh. I sighed. I’d starve at this rate.'

Fairy Things

There are fairies in my house. I've seen them. They keep peeking at me. They're a lot taller than I expected - maybe that's the domestic fairy. The ones in the wild are definitely diddy.

I wondered today - if I could shape-shift, what would I become? And if I was a good enough shaman to become one creature, then why not another?

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Slightly related to the above; although I am 23,000 words into the main novel - oh dear - I now have another on the go. It was meant to be a 5000 word short story but I couldn't get it down to less than 6200. And it ended with a beginning - so it's crying out to be a series.

If you like fantasy horror, bitter revenge and terrifying beasts with deadly, suppurating wounds - then this might appeal. It's called Magenta Shaman.

New flash (Not news flash) fiction

Just had 'Slideshow' published on Thrillers Killers 'N' Chillers. A little bit of fun. Really.

Today's been one of those clumsy ones. I've been dipped in paint, and splattered with water. I put my camera in the fridge and made a cup of tea without a tea bag. Nice.

There's something buzzing in here, and I can't work out if it's a bee or a nasty fly. The former - it lives; the latter it dies.

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Must do some more work on the novel tonight - it's teasing me, just sitting there; its stripy cover freaking my eyes out.

Someone's about to get their come-uppance. I can feel it brewing. Ooh, she's such a bad girl, my Alex. Hope you don't meet her on a dark night.