It’s time I put some more book reviews on this site again! I try to put my book reviews on my Instagram pages and GoodReads, then do a monthly round-up as well and include Facebook and Twitter in. That said, some of you might have seen these graphics or reviews previously there, but for some, it might give them a new book idea! I wish I could remember to put more reviews here, so I’m going to try harder.
March Reads –
First off, here are the books I read in March! All of these are five or four stars and excellent reads I recommend! This does not include books I read because I was editing them for clients, all the books strictly for award season, or magazines and other online reading. I’m trying to read as much as I can, but sure wish it was more, though I feel I’m reading all the time! You can find full reviews of all these on my GoodReads (under my name, Erin Al-Mehairi) or as I said, mostly full reviews on my Instagram posts under my name or on my newer book related @hook_of_a_book_reads Instagram page.
Recreational Panic by Sonora Taylor – I always love Sonora’s stories. This is fun short story collection full of original horror stories that range in length from poetry to flash to full short stories, published by Cemetery Gates Media. Sonora dabbles in similar themes here as in her other works: baking/cooking, bones, cannibalism, eco-horror, serial killers, obsessions. She also makes sure that she dabbles at least one “techie” story in. But all are unique and fresh tales. She still does her tell-tale Taylor move by giving us many endings that surprise and shock. You’ll need this one for a summer fun read.
The New Couple in 5B by Lisa Unger – Such an entertaining, page turning thriller that takes place in a restored, turn-of-the-century luxury apartment building in NYC, with hints of the supernatural. This will probably be one of my favorite reads of the year!
Island Witch by Amanda Jayatissa – This was such an excellent historical horror thriller! Amanda is becoming a must read author for me. This one had it all. Another one for the best of lists. I highly recommend!!
Alchemy of a Blackbird by Claire McMillan – This book was so unique, with chapters interspersing with tarot cards and their meanings based on each side character in the book, a part of their side of the story in relation to protagonist (the famous surrealist painter Remedios Varo) and time period, which is WWII. It’s about artists and friends like her and world-renowned surrealist painter Lenora Carrington, who escape from occupied Paris, who believe in magic/alchemy, art, dreams, culture, finding one’s self, enduring friendships, and so much more. It’s uniquely written. Frida Khalo even makes an appearance! Cleveland area’s own as Claire now resides in Ohio. This one will permeate my brain for a long time, plus it has had me looking up info on the real artists – Varo and Carrington!
January andFebruary Reads –
I also wanted to include what I read in January and February here as well, though for the reviews, you’ll have to look on GoodReads or Instagram because I’m short on time to type them all here. All of these books are four or five star reads though, for various reasons, and ALL have amazing female leads and characters. Most, if not all, have some femme empowerment and interesting discussion points! I might have been on a thriller trend (might still be haha!). My favorite out of these was probably the other mothers by Katherine Faulkner (it’s her second novel and I loved her debut, too – Greenwich Park).
Thanks for stopping by! Feel free to email me and let me know of any books you loved that should be on my radar. As always, I’m reading in spare moments when I am not editing books, writing my own stuff, doing mom duties, managing my health, helping my elderly parents, or corraling our menagerie of cats!
Poetry is certainly a balm. Over the last couple months, we’ve shown on this site in the Poetry Project how many different ways poetry, especially dark poetry, is written and how many various reasons why. It’s shown grief, fear, healing, processing, loving, allegory, and standing up for oneself or issues that are important. It’s shown entertainment. Now, you’ll read how poetry can be a rhythm from our ancestors, and a warrior woman’s cry for value beyond primal means. There is so much more to poetry, of course— this is just a small corner.
When I did an open call for poetry, Red Lagoe wanted to participate but hadn’t written much poetry. I urged her to please still submit one! She’s a visceral, piercing, raw, grounded writer and creative person with so much realness and soul that I knew that would be poured into her poetry as well. And I was right— see if you can read her poem here without being moved. It just gutted me as a woman if you really dig deep into it. Are we all just vessels and nothing more? It’s a beautiful poem and I’m so very honored to have the opportunity here to publish it for the first time.
I met Red when she came on the scene some years back and I really encouraged her writing because she has a well of words inside her that create stories and novellas full of heart and angst and thought-provoking ideas. I am so glad we became friends and that she’s a part of the writing and horror community because she’s always a light and so supportive of others. She’s also a fabulous artist, having done many of her own covers for her books. I love her art— especially her skulls, flowers, birds, and skies. Red is a great mom, a wonderful friend, a talented writer and artist, an astute curator and editor, and I’m so proud of her for opening her own press (doing all the jobs within) with integrity and foresight. She should be winning all the awards, and one day, she will.
I won’t delay you further, please read her poem here and check out more of her work as well.
Hardened Cask by Red Lagoe
On this mountain some are born with scythes, others with casks.
Youthful casks curly haired cherubs dance among dandelions high on the mountaintop, we wish upon impossible dreams other mountains.
Cloaked scythes circle guarding, praising, they love us for our beauty.
And then we bleed.
Inchoate cask swells, wooden planks lined with blood splinter my body becomes a vessel. Aching, bent in half shredded viscera peels beneath an external calm.
Isn’t she lovely they say, casks and scythes alike.
Barefoot, barely grown, with a dandelion carcass crown forced to descend the mountain.
Blood seeping between legs warm, life-giving force soaks polka-dotted innocence sticky clots adhere to trembling legs.
Those who once protected, exalted turn their backs, while some shout to clean up my mess.
Other scythes still circle not as guards but as vultures feasting on the trail of blood
pecking my thighs flesh stripped from muscle, an attempt to lay claim.
Shriveled and sour, the elderly ones skin crisp and cracked like a sun-dried flower whisper and sneer at my bleeding empty cask.
Stop crying, they say.
Refusal to fill the empty vessel brings shame, backs turn to the selfish useless cask who dares to want anything else.
Hot impaling brands of hatred incessant pecking, prodding grinding away at my will, I succumb.
I submit.
And allow the scythe to inject thick seminal fluid.
It swells within fermenting body augments expands to fit the young.
Distortion of organ tissue and bone fissuring flesh agony, it is expected exhalted, but they don’t celebrate me they honor the vessel birthing other casks and other scythes who are sent away to fulfill elder expectations.
My days as a cask are complete. Worn, broken planks as dried and cracked as this outer shell.
Scythes come for one last circle. With no blood to feast upon they stab with their dull blades tearing me open from pubis to breast shredding slicing, scraping away all that lies within. Wooden splinters burst from sinewy caverns and fall to the floor amidst a pool of useless scarlet butchery.
In this hollowed shell no longer of use a barely beating heart clings to its last artery.
They leave me to die, or to patch a scar over an abysmal void and carry on.
I manage both.
Now I sit with the elders, the other survivors who once had dreams scraped away.
Young casks and scythes descend the mountain bleeding, crying terrified of their future.
I want another life for them, an option other than simply cask or scythe where freedom lies beyond youth.
Perhaps their impossible dreams can find it can build it.
For them I emptied myself
But to them, I echo my ancestors and simply say,
Stop crying.
Red Lagoe, Biography-
Red Lagoe is the author of three horror collections, including Impulses of a Necrotic Heart. Her novella, In Excess of Dark, is forthcoming from DarkLit Press in March 2024. She is also the editor of Nightmare Sky: Stories of Astronomical Horror and owner of Death Knell Press.
When she’s not spewing her horror-ridden mind onto the page, she can be found dabbling in the hobby of amateur astronomy.
Find more by Red, including free short stories, on her website and find her on various social media platforms.
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Her newest release, the novella In Excess of Dark, will be out from DarkLit Press in March 2024!
In Excess of Dark, About –
What if every terrible thing imagined came true? Every fleeting, nightmarish thought a reality? For grief-stricken Karina, her newfound ability to turn her worst daydreams into palpable truths has sent her into a downward spiral of depression and guilt. Coupled with the appearance of an enigmatic shadow figure and visions of her dead family, she grapples to maintain her sanity while desperately attempting to harness her abilities and reunite with her loved ones.
Everyone, thank you SO much for all your support of the Poetry Project this time around over the last three months. These eleven features were a total labor of love by me and I enjoyed sharing about all these fabulous poets. Thank you for reading and sharing and loving poetry.
And thank you for enjoying past poetry projects. You can read all the posts from this year as well as the several past years, HERE.
My plan is to possibly make the Poetry Project a monthly endeavor, posting one or two features a month from people wanting to submit. More on that soon in a separate blog post, but if you want to submit anything regarding poetry, let me know.
Hello readers! Happy New Year! After a short hiatus for the holiday season and personal and family illness, we’re back today to continue the recent celebration of poetry and poets with my Poetry Project series which began its current segment in November 2023. I have two more features left to post, including this one below, then I’ll share an announcement about poetry and its inclusion into the rest of the year.
I also want to take a moment while it’s fresh to say that WordPress has reminded me it’s the thirteenth anniversary of my site this month! I think that’s a huge deal in this age of constant changes and I’m pretty proud of it.
More on that later, but for now, let me introduce my next poetry feature on my friend and colleague, who is an author, poet, and book critic and champion, Brian James Lewis.
Brian has been showcased on my site before and I’ve tried to support his work where and when I can as he’s a needed and often overlooked voice. Brian’s poetry is raw, gritty, intense, but REAL and it bravely showcases mental health and disability struggles. Brian’s work pierces through society and writer normals; is unpretentious and accessible. Brian is also a fabulous person to work with and someone who wants to learn and grow. He’s also been very supportive of my own work and writing, as a person and as a woman, offering so much respect and encouragement. He’s an inspiring person, overcome so much, and I’m happy to call him a friend. Without further clamoring on by me, I’ll let Brian take the page.
Introduction by Brian James Lewis –
Hello everyone, I am once again fortunate to be sharing my work with you thanks to the positive efforts of Erin Al-Mehairi. She’s an overall awesome person who cares about us unique people in the writing community and understands our struggles. If you need editing or promotion for your work, I highly recommend her services.
Being included in her poetry projects over the years has resulted in many more people reading and sharing my work and I’m grateful for that. She’s the reason that I will soon be featured in the Horror Writer Association’s wellness blog, discussing the healing benefits of horror reading and writing for those of us with mental health issues. Stay tuned for that!
Today, I’m sharing three poems with you. The first, “Again,” is about the too real horrors of chronic mental illness which we’re finding out is much more common than the media or health community is officially recognizing. Too frequently jails and prisons are used as care facilities for people who aren’t going to get any better without regular check-ins with care providers and daily medication. But many of the medications are controlled which makes them difficult to obtain and there is a serious lack of specialized care facilities. General practitioners do what they can, but their knowledge is limited, as is their understanding of what’s really going on inside. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is not a cold or a broken bone that usually has a finite healing time. No matter how much effort you put into your recovery, it’s always lurking in the background waiting for the right moment to rush forth and spew toxic waste everywhere.
AGAIN By Brian James Lewis
It’s happening again The thing I said I was done with But anger fuels and rage overpowers Every single good wish in the universe
Like a California wildfire Taking down acres of trees Flames radiating heat and smoke Firetrucks driving through hell
Look out! You better save yourself Because I’m on fire with anger Rage boiling over the pot sides Like tomato soup left alone
Stinking, smoking, ruining Everything in my path You try to hold up your hand But I can’t stop this volcano
People like to throw words Like PTSD around to be cool
PMS, OMG, LOL, WTF? Pop culture is so damn lame
Like a slap in the dick Poke in the eye with a stick Truth is they don’t know shit About pain, fear, and that rage…
That arrives breathing flames An out-of-control freight train Hot steel screaming off the rails Smashing the flimsy wooden gates
Of those prescription “cool it” drugs Ignoring the years of psychotherapy Hotwiring the brain for an evil joyride That won’t stop until heartache
Or someone else gets hurt Forced to share the pain That true sufferers of PTSD carry Like spoiled meat, rotten veg
Deep inside their chests Hidden so well, nobody knows Until something sets it off Releasing the hounds of rage
(First published in JMWW on 9/23/2022 with this photo above)
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The second poem, “Home Sweet Hideaway,” was acquired by Erin for the Unnerving published gothic horror anthology Haunted Are These Housesin 2018. Sometimes homes are nothing you’d see in Better Homes & Gardens. I spent about ten years of my formative life living directly in front of a huge swamp, which I explored now and then until I began working on cars and trucks in the front yard. It was never not creepy in the swamp and sometimes it was downright terrifying.
HOME SWEET HIDEAWAY by Brian James Lewis
Used to be my summer nights were spent sitting on a lawn chair and staring off into the swamp behind my trailer home But these days, I’m a much busier man Now frogs sing in a madness choral while fireflies dance in misty gloom All of us waiting for the spirits to arrive in the eerie moments under a blood moon Giant shadows glide silently between the pines, hemlock and poplars Leaves wagging like tongues in the gurgling breezes that bring Raw smells of the ancient ones Huge, flapping dinosaurs and others without names that held the pointy headed nuts of the KKK at bay Blam! Blam! The beavers’ tails report As they cruise on patrol of the stagnant creek where jack lighters dispose of deer carcasses and assorted filth Used condoms, beer cans, panties, wallets and even cell phones adorn the muck beside the old bridge that crosses over a bone filled body of greasy water Deer move silently in the growing dark feeding here and there as I watch motionless in my chair as anticipation fills my mouth with sticky juices Don’t move! The swamp shadows are creeping closer-Air crackling as more fire flies join the dance-picking up speed until it flares like chain lightning I’m not lonely as the dark closes in This is a busy place, with barely enough room for the living as the shadows crowd around laughing Before this home sweet hideaway I didn’t know where I fit in-But this lot full of clapped out cars and derelict trucks needs my mechanical madness The food I catch here at night is tasty Someone is yelling in the darkness, but I only see flesh-So I just chuckle and keep on rending, tearing, and stripping No time to waste-There’s much to do With a snap I release my knife. Hah! Demons, bring around my rusted hearse The evening hunt is on!
(First published in Haunted Are These Houses – Unnerving on 9/14/2018.)
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This third and final new poem is about dealing with the constant pain of physical disabilities that aren’t going away pretty much ever. I finally made it out of the wheelchair I was stuck in for numerous years, thanks to an accident that left me with permanent spinal and nerve damage. Early in 2023, I had been hopeful that I’d finally be able to have corrective back surgery. I lost weight and went through the prep only to have my hopes dashed by a well-meaning surgeon. Turns out that there’s a high risk of permanent lower body paralysis which would put me right back in that wheelchair forever. And no bones about it, he was correct that if that happened, I would most likely commit suicide or go seriously off the rails that I’ve been trying so hard to spike back into place. So, I’m stuck taking pain medication on the daily to keep myself functional. Some people, including my blood family, seem to think that this must be a whole heck of a lot of fun. They’ve even been so bold as to say this to my face. Here’s a clear eyed view from the front row.
SILENT ENEMIES By Brian James Lewis
There are days when all I want to do is kill myself
Wash away the pain forever and just be totally free
Of what I’ve become Fat and addicted to drugs meant to manage my
Pain but they only dull it a little and turn my brain to sludge
Then drive me crazy because my face itches like it is full of a
Million tiny bugs that are trying to eat the inside of my nose
I wipe and wash scratch and poke But it’s no use
Damn it! I just want a razor sharp knife so I can
Peel away the skin of my face in thin bloody sheets
Just to get rid of the maddening itch The crawling prickle
That keeps me awake at two in the morning ruining any chance
Of sleep-My dreams invaded by the horrible sensations that rule me
Pain pulses and flares, forcing me out of my own bed
To face the itching that make one’s fingers enemies that
Attack in the night like silent killers from another land
The aim of writing poetry like this isn’t about making people feel sorry for you. It’s about expressing oneself in a relatively positive fashion and letting others who are fighting the same fight know that they’re not alone. Most times the medical community doesn’t have the best approach and even the kindest physicians can make us feel like freaks. But we’re not and we sure as hell didn’t voluntarily sign up for this.
The one thing that helps me to get away for a while is writing. Especially when I get immersed in my characters while working on a story or express myself via poetry. That’s something that we can control and laser focus on, even if for just short bursts. During that time, we’re not hostages, we’re escapees running for the border. Some naysayers may tell you it’s dumb or you’re not making big bucks. Do not listen to them. They’re just bitter because they cashed their dreams in a long time ago for the dubious concept of security. Never stop writing, it’s how we breathe.
Brian James Lewis, Biography –
Brian James Lewis is a disabled writer with PTSD who writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction that often straddles the line between horror and literary. He enjoys using old manual typewriters that he has brought back from the dead, including one originally owned by Rod Serling. Brian is blue collar to the bone and has been a mechanic, truck driver, veterinary kennel attendant, library clerk, and a janitor.
Most recently his work has appeared in Trajectory, The Siren’s Call e-Zine, and JMWW. He is looking forward to being published in 2024 by Smoking Pen Press, The Iconoclast, and a new, close to his heart short story “Gonna Be A Long Cold Winter” that balances hope and reality on the edge of a curb, which will be coming out in the next issue of Trajectory. After midnight Brian often transforms into his horror reading undead alter-ego, Skull, and reviews books on his Damaged Skull Writer blog. Pop on over when you have a chance, he’d love to have more followers.
You can read all Brian’s past poetry on my site, as well as his essay on mental illness and writing, here, and why he started writing plus more poetry, here.
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Thanks once again to all those who are taking the time to enjoy and support the Poetry Project. I know the poets appreciate it as much as I do. Please help continue it by sharing with others.
If you’re interested in past Poetry Projects, you can find the links to an insane amount of excellent poetry on my site here.
I hope 2024 has set off on a good foot for everyone and best wishes to all.
Poetry is attune to emotional depth spiraling out of every phase of our lives. Dealing with changes – motherhood, death, moving, and coming-of-age at any decade. Poetry is stream-of-consciousness or delicately placed words. Poetry is our life made into art. It’s something that connects us.
Grace R. Reynolds is new on the scene but she has come in on fire with her writing. In the last few years, Grace has had poetry and short stories published in literary magazines, anthologies, online, and has published two short story collections – The Lies We Weave and Lady of the House. As well she has been guest of honor at book signing events and has endeared herself to a great many writers in certain poetry and dark fiction communities with her smile, kindness, and talent.
It was my honor to have the opportunity to serve as an editor on Grace’s The Lies We Weave with her before publication was secured. Grace’s words touch me deeply; her poetry is beautiful and soul-crushing and hopeful all at the same time. Her words resonate in this collection, especially to me as a mom (she has two small children). Its gothic feel created melodic and melancholy vibes and her words tragic, contemplative, and lingering. In reading Lady of the House, it was along the lines of quirky horror with a strong female empowerment element and domestic horror vein (which as you all know I write myself). It’s a clever read and also inspiring.
Grace’s poetry comes from somewhere deep inside her – whether it’s lying on the floor during a painful day having her thoughts ignite like fireworks, in the car waiting to pick up her child from school, at her desk working on wordsmithing phrases just right, or writing during and after painting and stenciling beautiful patterns on her walls, doing double duty creating allegories. Grace’s mind is always moving across the page. We are blessed to have some of that put to paper (or keyboard). I feel so happy to have met Grace and be able to read her work. She’s a wonderful friend and person!
Grace is in the middle of writing and editing another poetry collection – a chapbook. She’s sharing with us three brand new poems from that grouping written in several different styles. Enjoy!
SIGNS I REMEMBERED TO TAKE MY MEDICATION by Grace R. Reynolds
I swallow Texas sunsets, lay in beds of grass yellow and green, a sixty milligram fever dream—
sweat prickles the nape of my neck.
Fire wheel blush, ant pile brush, welts blister in the spaces between my toes
hot, a sharp fervor settles in my bones.
Red yucca curves, Mexican tile swirls, terracotta clay smooth—
the dull ache in my fingers lulled.
A choral accompaniment of cicadas hum as night welcomes a gentle breeze,
the thrum of my body quiets into a midnight blue.
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SAN ANTONIO UNDER MY SKIN by Grace R. Reynolds
I want to create / let my hands dip brushes in paint feel the flat finish dry, pill between my fingers.
Long strokes / glazed shades patterns reminiscent of Talavera
peppered on textured walls / this cookie cutter house
an encroachment on a place once called “dog town”—
(I just wanted to live somewhere quiet.)
Memories resurface / hot blacktop the Jalisco near Tezel Road / remnants of frescos
I think of Mission San José / the Rose Window recreated in facades across the city, a testament of
enduring love / a city’s history the echoes of Spanish colonization—
(The croak of a grackle deafens my thoughts.)
I’m so tired / of white and gray the death of a generation / monochromatic and egocentric
Here there is community / pride as tall and wide as the “Pride of Barbados” as warm as a marigold sunrise / all consuming like the migration of monarch butterflies
Prickly pears / cilantro and lime so bright like whorls on alebrijes from Oaxaca—
A passion bursting and vibrant / crowns of roses floral calaveras and Huichol art
under my skin / there is healing in this place, and how precious it is to feel the sun in my heart, again—
I paint, and I paint and I continue to paint.
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IT’S 94 DEGREES OUTSIDE
and I am thankful for respite from triple digits / digits that are sore and yearn for relief like the sedation of a cold shower / blood pools in my feet / increased circulation / blurry vision / a white out that stretches like the limestone facade on so many homes in San Antonio / factory made house farms / a sprawling city now home to California and New York transplants / millennials who cannot afford to live in the Austin suburbs / Live Oaks with gnarled limbs that twist, reach toward the sky / my hands tingle with involuntary muscle movements; numb / ball moss clusters that fall into asphalt streets / persimmon rot, crusted top shriveled “ohs” / my lips twitching / orthostatic intolerance ever present as I sit in the hot sun of the car pickup line at my child’s school / skin cold and clammy / and now my eyes are twitching / closing / a fight to keep them open / wondering if I will suffer an aneurysm and die here in the blistering heat behind someone’s Honda Odyssey / twelve hours left in my audio book and the A/C is blasting 68 degrees / golden locks that strap themselves into the backseat / “what was one good thing that happened today?” / every day / rinse / medicate / repeat.
– by Grace R. Reynolds
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Grace R. Reynolds, Biography –
Grace R. Reynolds is a native of the great state of New Jersey, where she was first introduced to the eerie and strange thanks to local urban legends of a devil creeping through the Pine Barrens. Since then, her curiosity with things that go bump in the night bloomed into creative expression as a dark poet, horror, and thriller fiction writer.
Her short fiction and poetry has been published by various presses. She is the author of two poetry collections from Curious Corvid Publishing, Lady of The House (2022) and The Lies We Weave (2023).
Planted ambitions. Wounds that never heal. Cycles of generational trauma that keep us from breaking free of our turmoils. Suffused with Gothic undertones, THE LIES WE WEAVE collection of dark poetry and prose is a journey of self discovery that offers a unique perspective of one woman’s path toward healing. Beauty, darkness, pain, and hope can be found along the way so long as we allow ourselves to take those first steps into the unknown.
“As delightful as it is devastating, The Lies We Weave showcases Grace R. Reynolds’ skill with dark poetry and prose in examining motherhood as an excision, contagion, and revelation while exploring the gorgeous and gory nature of femininity.”
– Jessica McHugh, Bram Stoker Award-nominated author of A Complex Accident of Life
“The Lies We Weave is breathtakingly beautiful and hauntingly visceral. You cannot read this collection without feeling it move beneath the surface of your skin. Reynolds has constructed an intricate, intimate exploration of womanhood and the self that is earthy, cosmic and utterly transfixing.”
–Emily Verona, Bram Stoker Award-nominated writer and author of forthcoming Midnight on Beacon Street
For a short time, both The Lies We Weave and Lady of the House are on sale for .99c for Kindle.
Thanks once again for joining us for these poetry features! It’s almost time to close them for the year. Just one or two more coming up (depending on if one is submitted), then I’ll let you all know what I’m doing with it moving forward! It would be so helpful if you can share where and when you can so that we can get lots of eyes on poetry.
Be sure to head to the POETRY tab to read all the links from this year as well as past years!
I enjoyed the book My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite, so when Cherish Farrah by Bethany C. Morrow was presented as a book in the vein of, I knew I had to read it! I had originally set to read it this past February for Black History Month, but it wasn’t until early March when I read it in two days because I couldn’t put it down.
I should make a quick note about why this review is going up now, not then. Due to a sudden decrease in time this year starting in mid-March and stemming from stressful family issues, most of my reviews have went up on social media sites and GoodReads – mostly the former, and mostly, Instagram, whether on my personal or my dedicated book site. I had to focus on my work as an editor, plus I was a screener and judge for a literary award (which was a lot of reading and I didn’t post reviews for them). I want to return to getting more posted here though, so I’m going to start with this one, even though I read it early in the year, as it was already primarily written in my drafts and I really liked it!
Cherish Farrah, Review –
Control. That’s a word used a lot in this book, and ultimately is one of the major themes of this book to me, so I’m not surprised that our narrator Farrah takes control over telling this story as well. It’s her story and she wants to make sure we see her side of it. Though she IS an unreliable narrator as well. We aren’t ever sure who to believe. One moment Farrah seems creepy and the next a victim of others, but it’s all rolled so seamlessly together in way that everyone seems kind but also sinister all at the same time!
Farrah, the daughter of well-to-do black parents and the only girl at the Academy that’s black with black parents, is the friend of Cherish, who is also black but adopted by rich, white parents. I say all this just because it’s important to the book’s plot and themes. Farrah says Cherish is black girl spoiled and indicates to the reader that Cherish needs Farrah to explain everything to her and calm her. Farrah always stays in control, or so she thinks. Cherish and Farrah have been friends since elementary school and have a co-dependent relationship. As the story unwinds Farrah reminds us she is in control, just like her mother taught her, but when she goes to stay with Cherish and her family, things happen to make us wonder just how in control Farrah is of her own life and situation even if Farrah can’t see it for herself.
The book tackles social issues of black children with white parents and their association with black kids from black parents. Again, I mention this as it’s a main theme of the book’s plot. It also tackles class structure. Cherish’s parents are ancestrally rich and Farrah’s are self-made and living beyond their means. It just takes one wrong thing – like Farrah’s mom being laid off – and they have to move to the other side of town to a rental. That’s when Farrah moves in with Cherish and family, who seem to adore her. However, the term whipping boy and girl make it into the plot based on class and structure in this dichotomy and is an interesting look at that phenomenon at its most severe and violent.
There are plenty of gross, painful, bloody, horrible situations that go on with Farrah that will make any horror reader cringe. The baptismal ritual the friends do is also frightening as is the subtle mysterious supernatural occurrences (or are they!?) and possible and real murders. I’m still trying to figure parts of this out as well as Farrah herself (and her mother too!). I wasn’t ready for the book to end as I needed to know more! But the ending was intense and dramatic and shocking as well.
This type of writing leaves plenty of holes for your mind to weave in and out of. It might not give you all the direct answers you want. As a reader you don’t know who to trust – even when you think you do, you don’t. It leaves you thinking long after you put down the book. It makes crazy look normal and disgusting deeds look every day. It’s that type of horror that seems fly by the horror radar but is in fact pretty scary.
Domestic and social horror is here to stay and Morrow stakes her claim on the list of most compelling black horror writers today. Jordan Peele should look into making this one his next movie. It has a similar vibe to his films.
I recommend this book for anytime of year if you love suspense thrillers or certain horror subgroups like me. Bethany is an excellent writer. If you liked the film Get Out or My Sister, the Serial Killer or The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris or its tv adaptation (I did!), you might like this one!
About CHERISH FARRAH –
Named a Most Anticipated Book of 2022 by PopSugar,Ms. magazine, Medium, Book Riot, BookPage, CrimeReads, Tor Nightfire, Bookshop, Book Talk, BiblioLifestyle, and more!
“Morrow uses her heroine’s warped perspective to examine painful truths about race and class in America, but this isn’t a book intended to teach anyone a lesson, except maybe: Be careful. You never know who’s really in control.”—Los Angeles Times
From bestselling author Bethany C. Morrow comes a new adult social horror novel in the vein of Get Out meets My Sister, the Serial Killer, about Farrah, a young, calculating Black girl who manipulates her way into the lives of her Black best friend’s white, wealthy, adoptive family but soon suspects she may not be the only one with ulterior motives. . .
Seventeen-year-old Farrah Turner is one of two Black girls in her country club community, and the only one with Black parents. Her best friend, Cherish Whitman, adopted by a white, wealthy family, is something Farrah likes to call WGS—White Girl Spoiled. With Brianne and Jerry Whitman as parents, Cherish is given the kind of adoration and coddling that even upper-class Black parents can’t seem to afford—and it creates a dissonance in her best friend that Farrah can exploit. When her own family is unexpectedly confronted with foreclosure, the calculating Farrah is determined to reassert the control she’s convinced she’s always had over her life by staying with Cherish, the only person she loves—even when she hates her.
As troubled Farrah manipulates her way further into the Whitman family, the longer she stays, the more her own parents suggest that something is wrong in the Whitman house. She might trust them—if they didn’t think something was wrong with Farrah, too. When strange things start happening at the Whitman household—debilitating illnesses, upsetting fever dreams, an inexplicable tension with Cherish’s hotheaded boyfriend, and a mysterious journal that seems to keep track of what is happening to Farrah—it’s nothing she can’t handle. But soon everything begins to unravel when the Whitmans invite Farrah closer, and it’s anyone’s guess who is really in control.
Told in Farrah’s chilling, unforgettable voice and weaving in searing commentary on race and class, this slow-burn social horror will keep you on the edge of your seat until the last page.
Bethany C. Morrow, Biography –
Bethany C. Morrow is a national bestselling author writing for adult and young adult audiences. She is the author of the novels Mem, A Song Below Water, A Chorus Rises, and So Many Beginnings: A Little Women Remix. She is the editor/contributor to the young adult anthology TAKE THE MIC, which won the 2020 ILA Social Justice in Literature award. Her work has been featured in The LA Times, Forbes, Bustle, Buzzfeed, and more. She is included on USA TODAY’s list of 100 Black novelists and fiction writers you should read.
Poetry sometimes is simply scenes of our life mapped out cinematically for the memories. The things that make us feel good. Poetry can be the extension of life and the thoughts we have about life and beyond. Poets also write about dangerous liaisons, monsters, the supernatural, the universe – to entertain or overcome trauma. And sometimes poetry and art co-exist as well in the most beautiful of ways to tell a story or scene.
Critically-acclaimed American and New England novelist, poet, and painter/artist Sandy DeLuca is a two-time Bram Stoker Award finalist for poetry and has been nominated for the Rhysling and Elgin Awards as well.
Not only has she penned her own poetry collections, had poems featured in anthologies and magazines, and has co-written several poetry collections with others, her illustrations also accompany notable poetry collections and she has painted cover art and illustrations for popular genre magazines, anthologies, and books. Her original paintings have been exhibited in Rhode Island, Massachusetts and New York’s Hudson Valley. Her Stoker nominated poetry collection, Burial Plot in Sagittarius (Thievin’ Kitty 2000), is held in a special collection at Brown University as it’s now sadly out of print.
{I love this art by Sandy DeLuca for the cover of this poetry collection.}
Sandy has been writing and painting since the 1980s – she was accompanied in by the ‘zine era – and her volume of work, her legacy, and all she’s accomplished so far, is commendable. Sandy writes with haunting darkness, tension, and visceral and sometimes graphic and disturbing prose, but all in a way that transports your thinking. Her prose writing is also very poetic while her poetry is often sexy, fun, and if not shocking, dark and seductive. Though novel and fiction writing dominate her published writing these days, she’s still writing poetry, too. In fact, I know in the past two years she’s had a few longer poems (her favorite to write) published in an anthology and magazines. I hope I heard correctly that she’s thinking of publishing another poetry collection, too, if I can encourage her to do so, I will!
Sandy may write dark prose and poetry but she’s one of the nicest people you’d ever meet. She’s gracious, tender, funny, a good listener, humble, and has a wonderful energy (even though I’ve never met her in person yet)! Her creativity, and the heart and soul she puts into her projects, is stunning. She’s incredibly talented in all her pursuits. Her art style is so unique and colorful and full of vibrancy, whimsy, and the bizarre. I feel her work, whether writing or art, often has messaging as well. Generally, she’s a voice for women, portraying their pain and sadness and suffering and even deviousness. She’s a voice for women in freedom and abandon and independence and survivorship in her all her creative formats. And I appreciate that so much about her.
As you can tell, I highly admire my friend Sandy so I want you all to learn how talented she is! Please enjoy her art and poetry of Dracula.
{Dracula Painting by Sandy DeLuca – used with permission of the artist.}
Dracula by Sandy DeLuca
The movie played on Friday night— black and white images in a downtown cinema, built when gold and marble were in vogue.
Outside we scattered ashes on the walk, whispering words Aunt Lil said over plates filled with oil and water, and Bela Legosi smiled at us from ancient posters.
Traipsing into the lobby, huddled closed with tickets torn in half, and olden glamor queens loomed large, faded faces framed behind tarnished brass.
Monroe with sadness etched across her face, and Garbo with shadows in her eyes
they spoke to me, told me secrets they kept inside lockets made from gold and scarabs.
Old women, wearing pearls, walked slowly to their seats arms hooked round each other waving fingers when we scurried by.
And we’d climb to the balcony, savoring each word and sighing when Dracula spread his cape—
Then we whispered, *“To die, to be really dead, that must be glorious.”
Sandy DeLuca, Biography –
Sandy DeLuca has written novels, several poetry and fiction collections, and a few novellas. These include critically acclaimed works such as DESCENT and MESSAGES FROM THE DEAD. Over the past three years, she also co-authored three novels with Greg F. Gifune.
Her visual art has been published in books and magazines. It has been exhibited throughout New England and in New York’s Hudson Valley.
She lives in Rhode Island with several feline companions, including a black cat named Gypsy and her two sons, Gemini and Leo. Another black cat, named Mojo, joined the household in 2023. He was born in her great grandfather’s house, a structure that was once a stagecoach stop. And the inspiration for a novel in progress.
In addition to the novel, she is working on new poetry and a series of large-scale expressionistic paintings. She spends some of her free time volunteering at a local food pantry, photographing abandoned buildings, and perusing secondhand shops.
See Sandy’s array of books and her beautiful artistic paintings and cover art and illustrations on her website. You can also see her published work on her Amazon Author Page.
Her newest release…
The Still Place, Synopsis – Co-written with Greg Gifune, Novel Published September 2023 / Journalstone
{Cover by Don Noble}
When Mina, a troubled and struggling young painter, is awarded an artist’s residency offered by a small collective of eccentric artists in the mysterious coastal town of Crow’s Cry, she’s hopeful the opportunity will help get both her career and life back on track. Headed by the enigmatic, elderly, and internationally distinguished German artist Klaus Riker, a brilliant painter known for his unorthodox practice of combining art with spiritualism, the collective warmly welcomes Mina into their fold and provides her with every opportunity to take full advantage of the residency program.
But in time Mina senses there may be something more going on in Crow’s Cry than meets the eye. There is something strange and unsettling about the collective, about the dark old house on the cliffs where Klaus lives and hosts his community of artists, about the horrifying dreams Mina keeps having, and even something disturbing about the paintings Mina’s working on herself. As she becomes increasingly isolated from the outside world and drawn deeper into the collective and their unusual practices, Mina begins to suspect that Klaus and the others may not be exactly what they seem.
Could their motivations for selecting her be far darker and dangerous than she imagined, or is it only Mina’s personal demons and paranoia at play? As she delves deeper into what may actually be going on, Mina creeps closer to the truth behind not only her own troubled soul, but the collective, their plans for her, and the unspeakable horror that awaits her in THE STILL PLACE.
Thank you for stopping by and reading the next post in Hook of a Book Poetry Project. To honor these poets, poetry, and to help me keep this project going, please share these posts as you can and where you can. Read all the links from the project on the poetry page.
Award-winning Canadian author Elaine Cougler is no stranger to my website and my writing world. For over a decade now, there’s been posts on this site about her historical fiction books, memoirs by or written with others, and about her family. Hailing from the Ontario province, she’s had unique perspectives and viewpoints in her books but almost always strong women and resilient people.
A retired English teacher, she’s now living her dream writing books, and she’s written many, and she truly proves you’re never too old to grab ahold and capture your bucket goals if you’re willing to put in the work. Elaine is inspiring, and as well, so very kind and supportive.
She writes about strong fictional women in history, but she’s also writing true stories of families and women from the past and present, too. Recently she found files of her late mother’s work in progress, a book about Elaine’s grandmother. She edited, filled in gaps, and co-authored Maggie with her mother. What a lovely legacy and memorial to leave for her grandmother and mother, as well as herself. Elaine is a strong, independent, motivated woman. In this book, and the essay below, she proves to herself, and readers, the bravery of all the women in her family. Enjoy!
Finding a Life in Maggie by Elaine Cougler, Author
A few months ago, when chatting with my daughter on the phone, I remembered that I had an envelope from my mother in my files. Mom had started to write a novel before she died. I had seen the first two pages and edited them for her (she had lost her center vision and typed only by touch) but didn’t realize who Maggie was. When I began reading Mom’s fifty full pages, I soon knew that Maggie was my grandmother and these pages were a charming bit of family history. I was ecstatic. And so was my daughter when I told her.
You see, my daughter and my mother both had November birthdays and had been planning a joint party that fall when Mom would have been seventy-five and Beth would have been twenty-five. Alas, it never happened as Mom passed away that summer.
I’ve given some thought as to why I needed twenty-five years to pull out Mom’s story and deal with it. Was it too painful? Did I think because it wasn’t finished that the story didn’t matter? Maybe I just wasn’t ready to deal with the story earlier? Or, more likely, was I just too wrapped up in my own busy life?
Whatever the reason I finally put my hands on my mother’s words and the rest, as ‘they’ say, is my history. Or part of it, anyway. Starting this, my eighth writing project, I had new problems to solve but the best part was learning things about my grandmother’s early life that I had never known.
I knew about her large family, her sisters and brothers, a couple of whom I’d never met as they died young, and I knew about her divorce from my grandfather. That was something that didn’t happen so much in the 1920s and 30s. It seemed a little shameful to my childhood self.
This book in the making showed me how important growing up in a loving and nurturing family was to my grandmother. I realized why she had been the grandmother she was to all of her grandchildren and, from my lofty age these days, I could see how her childhood had affected my own in a positive way.
Mom wrote about her father’s infidelity and her own traumatic experiences associated with that. Now I knew why my own mother became the person she was. But the most revealing thing was seeing how my grandmother, being the strong woman she became, made her own decisions on how to deal with the wreck of her family.
Over my lifetime, this phenomenon of broken marriages has become very common but in Maggie’s day it was not. Maggie was given advice on how to deal with her husband’s peccadilloes and the story plays out with what Maggie’s reactions were. How I wish today I could wrap my arms around my grandmother—Maggie—and tell her I love her.
Maggie’s story makes me think of women today who have had to fight for parity in almost every field. My hope is to encourage women to stand up for themselves just as Maggie had to in my book.
An excerpt from Maggie –
The happy, busy days flew by and, at the end of summer, Maggie’s big adventure began. On the day she started school the whole world seemed to begin changing. In the morning Cindy brushed her hair with care and tied it back with ribbons. No more bare feet. Maggie’s father was determined that his children would wear shoes to school. She didn’t wear her best dress to school but one of the nice ones that used to be Ida’s until she got too big for it.
Cindy finished helping her to get ready and then gave her a big hug. Cindy was not going to school this year. She was old enough now to go out to work and today she was going to a family in the country to help the mother with a new baby. Pa would be taking her right after breakfast and she would not be home for several days. When Maggie came home from school there would be no Cindy there to make sure her feet were clean and scold her for being late for supper. Maggie knew she was going to miss her and the hug meant that Cindy would miss Maggie, too. Maggie thought it must be terrible to be going to a strange home and to work for someone you don’t even know, so she hugged her back as tightly as she could.
“Run along, Maggie, and don’t be late on your first day at school,” said Cindy as she brushed her hand across her eyes. “I’ll see you Sunday at church.”
Maggie ran to get her lunch and then raced out the door to catch up to Ida. Almina and Rosie were just ahead of them. They got to the school in plenty of time to talk to some of the other children. Soon the teacher came out and rang the bell to call them in to take their places at their desks.
Maggie, Synopsis –
From the opening scene with four-year-old Maggie down by the river watching the fish and the frogs, through the warm-hearted glimpses of growing up in the early nineteen hundreds in a large ‘Pennsylvania Dutch’ family, to the shocking fact that her husband was not the man she thought he was, this story is riveting. A true account found by author Elaine Cougler over twenty-five years after the death of her mother, Alice Garner, its layers of discovery kept unfolding as Elaine finished her mother’s tale.
The story is written about places near Stratford, Ontario during the times surrounding WWI. Elaine chose to keep her mother’s words and style as she had written them. Elaine did, however, have to find ways to bridge the gaps left in her mother’s unfinished manuscript. The result is a family story with two voices that could easily be the tale of countless others. Readers will no doubt identify with and thoroughly enjoy this glimpse into history.
Maggie is at heart the coming-of-age story of Elaine’s maternal grandmother who is born into a large family of Pennsylvania Dutch background in the late 1800s. In the early 1900s, having overcome some family prejudice, when Maggie is grown and married, she thinks she has a good marriage – until she doesn’t. What kind of strength will Maggie show as she is forced to solve her own problems?
Alice Garner was born Lillian Virginia Alice Doxey in November 1923, the youngest of four children. She grew up in a musical family and at age eleven walked into the radio station in Stratford, Ontario and got a job. She had her own show for which she had to learn new songs every week. She went on to marry and have thirteen children of her own with whom she carried on her musical talents, teaching all of them to thoroughly enjoy music. She was active in her farming community rising to become the president of many of the community-oriented groups she joined. She even ran for provincial parliament at one point. In her later years, she was working on this story when she passed away.
Elaine Cougler’s Biography –
She also wrote Amazon #1 bestseller The Man Behind the Marathons about the incredible life of the man behind Terry Fox’s Marathon of Hope, as well as her personal memoir, My Story, My Song, about growing up in rural Ontario with nine brothers and three sisters during the 50s and 60s. Her anthology, Canada: Brave New World, launched in 2023.
Elaine is a sought-after speaker and she talks about many topics related to her writing. Find out more about Elaine and her books on her website or join her on Facebook. Elaine is also on Twitter, Pinterest, LinkedIn, Instagram, and YouTube.
Elaine’s Book Purchase Links –
Elaine’s books can be viewed on her website and are available for purchase on Amazon, in print and for Kindle, and on Kobo. Many are in audio format as well through Audible.
Thanks for stopping by! Please share where you can! It helps me keep this site going as well as supports authors and writers.
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Image in title graphic by Yannik Pulver, Unsplash Flower painting section break, Evie S., Unsplash
Poetry can reflect culture, issues, and feminine anger. It reflects the power of feminine love and sexuality, too. It can be a form of activism in its own right and be a catalyst for outrage and conduit for change. It can also showcase women’s independence, confidence, freedom, body autonomy, and it can reflect fierce love and desire and hold no inhibitions, too. It can be evocative and ask questions, as like fingers trailing up the spine.
My dear friend, Elgin Award Nominated poet Claire C. Holland, writes all of this and more. She is one of my favorite people and writers – someone who thinks and feels those deep thoughts; records the desires of her heart and soul onto the page. I adore her so very much for her strength and bravery on so many levels. I’m thrilled to be featuring below one original poem by her and two she’s featured on her blog.
When she wrote her debut poetry collection a few years ago, called I Am Not Your Final Girl, it was acclaimed for its empowering messaging for survivors, like me. The themes were brought to the page through the final girls of horror films. The website Features of Fright said, “Holland has curated the patron saints of tragedy and trauma, and they fight for all survivors.”
However, in reading Claire’s work over the years, whether poetry or her stellar thought-provoking essays, I know she writes for all independence of spirit and body. Her words trickle off her pen below in her poetry as they might drip off her lips. Her words are beautiful, reaching deeply, and filled with carnal love and desires. Savor each line for her tender but raw, unflinching, provocative emotions. She’s a seductive, wordsmithing force
The First Love Note by Claire C. Holland
There is something particular about a boy’s throat. Something about the sight of it straining, yearning, the desperate tug of each swallow and the way it catches in the gasping column between collarbone and clenched jaw.
I would pluck out this tender part of you first, open your boy throat like an envelope like a love note like the plum just pitted
red and glittering against greedy lips.
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Valentine by Claire C. Holland
Fuck romance, I want your filth. Give me your grimiest, your dingiest desire,
wrenched out from the bloody center, dripping.
Hold it in your palms, let me see the thing that makes you sorry.
I want to bathe in it, to revel, I’ll help you lick it unclean.
I don’t want you to be good, darling, I want you to be free.
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Werewolf by Claire C. Holland
Your body is a secret I hold in mine, your heart a rough animal. We hold everything in the body— especially pain. At night, I feel yours like knots on a tree, ossifying under my palms. Transformation is a trauma response, the broken down body’s way of remaking itself, cell by starburst cell. Did we become beasts when no one was watching? If, in the cocoon of our connected bodies, we grew horns and sharpened our fangs on each other’s throats, if the hard dragging of my nails across your soft parts makes you moan now instead of cry, will they call us cursed? Your skin is pine-sweetened, sap-kissed, still.
Claire C. Holland, Biography-
Claire is a poet and writer from Philadelphia, currently living in Los Angeles. When she’s not writing, she can usually be found reading or binge-watching horror movies with her wonderful husband and her Wheaten Terrier, Chief Brody. Her book of poetry, I Am Not Your Final Girl, is available now on Amazon. Claire and her work can be found on Instagram or on her website.
Claire on Hook of a Book –
Read Claire’s previous poems contributed to the Poetry Project here. Read Sonora Taylor’s discussion of feminine rage and the collection, I Am Not Your Final Girl, here.
I Am Not Your Final Girl, Synopsis –
“There is nothing else in this world / like realizing / you’re going to live / and not being sure / you can.”
A timely collection poetry that follows the final girl of slasher cinema – the girl who survives until the end – on a journey of retribution and reclamation. From the white picket fences of 1970s Haddonfield to the apocalyptic end of the world, Holland confronts the role of women in relation to subjects including feminism, sexuality, violence, and healing in the world of Trump and the MeToo movement. Each poem centers on a fictional character from horror cinema, and explores the many ways in which women find empowerment through their own perceived monstrousness.
An Elgin Award Nominated Poetry Collection.
”This beautiful poetry collection by Claire C. Holland pays homage to all of the iconic Final Girls of horror history. Opening up their stories to examine their roles in a context of feminism, sexuality, violence, empowerment, and healing, this book follows these beloved fictional characters on a deeply personal journey. From Halloween’s Laurie Strode to The Witch’s Thomasin, readers walk a poetic path of reclaiming feminine monstrosity.” – The Line-up
Watch for a new poetry collection in the future from Claire. I know I’m excited for one!
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Thank you for joining us this week for the Poetry Project! There should be another this week and several next week as well. Please share and spread the word to support this project and the poets… and poetry!
Poetry, besides being a way to process emotions, is a wonderful way to pour out ones heart, manifest healing, and work on letting things go. Writers can grow and work on themselves as they write. It’s cathartic. It’s a release. A way to cope. For readers, it’s about relating. Poetry can also help readers heal when they relate to the words and emotions of others.
Author, Poet, Writer, and Multi-media artist Patrick Tumblety writes emotional poetry and stories, whether it paints art with words from a landscape, alludes to or focuses on mental health, deals with loss, or fights allegorical or fictional monsters. Sometimes his poetry sets a beautiful serene scene, sometimes they’re fun, sometimes they’re dark. Much of his poetry is touching, melancholy, but also often hopeful. His poem below, words that helped him work through the loss of his friend and passing of time, is an example of this.
Patrick is such a kind person, supportive of so many other writers, and is inspiring in his creativity and passions. Take a moment to read the poetry he’s shared with us.
Exposure by Patrick Tumblety
Snow gathered on the road faster than the sugar in your blood. To you, it was an acceptable reason. For me, an excuse to forego the long drive through a weather-torn season.
Time and health were always against us; such as when they took your left foot, and the socks I had already sent didn’t arrive until the day after Christmas.
My little one had the flu the year after. Although true – another reasoning in a whirlwind of white… lies. The reality? Days piled high. I sometimes don’t have the energy.
This year I had been determined- no snow would be too high. Unfortunately, my car got stuck inside an embankment as I received the message that you died.
For you, I continue trudging through the storm, fighting the time and waistline snow – fast, before I lose my feet to the cold – piece by piece to the ghosts of Christmases past.
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Note from Patrick: This poem is dedicated to my friend John Elliott, who passed away due to complications with diabetes. I miss him every day and will always regret how I thought we would have more time to spend together.
Patrick Tumblety, Biography-
Patrick Tumblety is an author of horror, science-fiction, and poetry. He has been featured in numerous anthologies, including Tales of Jack the Ripper from Word Horde Press, The Dead Inside, from Dark Dispatch, Gothic Fantasy: Science Fiction, from Flame Tree Publishing, and Dark Moon Digest from Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing. He has also been published by and is an active member of the Horror Writers Association. His work has been described as being able to deliver both “genuine fear and genuine hope.” (Amy H. Sturgis – Award-Winning Author and Professor of Narrative Studies)
You can read Patrick’s wonderful ocean and nature-inspired poems published in the last Poetry Project here.
Also, feel free to read all the poetry featured from this month and find links from the past projects, too. Thank you for joining us for another feature in the Hook of a Book Poetry Project! Please spread the word and share to support poetry, poets, and this project!
Award-winning poet LindaAnn LoSchiavo is a four-time nominee for The Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award nominee, to name only a few of her accomplishments. She has published several poetry chapbooks as well as full-length poetry collections. One of the latter, A Route Obscure and Lonely, earned her an Elgin Award.
Now, she brings to readers Vampire Ventures, a coagulated (see what I did there?) chapbook of poetry that embraces the mythos of the historical vampire while embracing how contemporary vampires might act in the technology age, all while bringing the fear, obsession, gore, sexiness, and passion we’ve come to love as vampiric readers.
I really enjoyed reading this collection, with her use of various types of poetry, and found her word play, plucking me like fingers on a violin, made me tense for the next poem, while also wanting to peek around the corner (or on social media) to see if any blood thirsty vamp was lurking. There’s chills and darkness but humor, too. It’s an entertaining collection for horror poetry connoisseurs.
I’m thrilled LindaAnn has agreed to share one of her poems from Vampire Ventures here, below.
Villanelle: Defined by a Stygian Realm by LindaAnn LoSchiavo
From a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored He arrived. Evil means produced his kind. Superstitions lurked in forgotten lore.
The curse of darkness appeared on our shores, More frightful than ever known to mankind From a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored.
Pale stranger with charm. Just flirting, I swore. To the dangers therein, I had been blind. Superstitions lurked in forgotten lore.
Red flags? Advice and rules are such a bore. He seemed refined. Who knew he was defined By a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored?
Eternal love he vowed. His past, he swore, Was doomed by gossip. Ex-girlfriends would find Superstitions lurking in forgotten lore.
Our bridal chamber was suffused with gore, Blood moon’s oath. We’re now immortals entwined. From a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored, Superstitions lurked in forgotten lore.
From a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored He arrived. Evil means produced his kind. Superstitions lurked in forgotten lore.
The curse of darkness appeared on our shores, More frightful than ever known to mankind From a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored.
Pale stranger with charm. Just flirting, I swore. To the dangers therein, I had been blind. Superstitions lurked in forgotten lore.
Red flags? Advice and rules are such a bore. He seemed refined. Who knew he was defined By a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored?
Eternal love he vowed. His past, he swore, Was doomed by gossip. Ex-girlfriends would find Superstitions lurking in forgotten lore.
Our bridal chamber was suffused with gore, Blood moon’s oath. We’re now immortals entwined. From a Stygian realm ‘twas best ignored, Superstitions lurked in forgotten lore.
LindaAnn LoSchiavo, Biography –
Native New Yorker LindaAnn LoSchiavo (she/her), a four time nominee for The Pushcart Prize, was also nominated for Best of the Net, Balcones Poetry Prize, an Ippy, a Firecracker Award, the Rhysling Award, and Dwarf Stars and also won an Elgin Award. She is a member of SFPA, British Fantasy Society, and The Dramatists Guild.
She has published Women Who Were Warned, Messengers of the Macabre, Apprenticed to the Night (UniVerse Press), Felones de Se: Poems about Suicide (Ukiyoto Publishing), and her newest, Vampire Ventures (Alien Buddha Press).
Forthcoming in 2024, she will have a book published called Cancer Courts My Mother from Penumbra / Stanislaus State College, and in 2025, Eros and His Entourage from Naked Cat Press.
Vampire Ventures, About –
Vampire Ventures is a 41-page chapbook of poetry that beckons readers to embrace the mystique of the shadow sphere and savor the forbidden allure of encounters with the undead — be it a moonlit rendezvous, an otherworldly romance, or a seductive soiree thrown by the enigmatic Count himself. In a realm where immortal desires and human emotions intertwine, 19 poems use the tropes of popular culture to explore the paradox of “living in death,” a theme central to the vampire mythos.
Chronicles of blood lust await you…
To learn more, go to her dedicated Vampire Ventures website.
Praise for Vampire Ventures –
LindaAnn’s new collection is a rich cocktail of Vampire Lore. Her eclectic style, bold and imaginative choice of language and sophisticated word play, adds gravitas to a beloved genre. “The Tale of the Vintner’s Daughter” is a particular favorite, highly evocative, nuanced and as deftly constructed as a spider web.
— John Stocks, Poetry Editor,Bewildering Stories
Vampire Venturesshowcases LoSchiavo’s formal versatility: fibonacci, haiku, golden shovel, villanelle, sonnet, prose poem, and the decasyllabic lines of poems that seem otherwise unconstrained. She’s equally adept at shifting among tones, from the eerie to the ironic. Her work is encrusted with images and phrases that will sparkle in the dark behind your eyelids long after you’ve finished reading.
— Carl Bettis, Editor-in-Chief, Tiny Frights
There’s romance, humor and blood in Vampire Ventures — like in the good old times.
— Mark Benecke, President, Transylvanian Society of Dracula
If you see this link before the end of November 2023, and are a bookseller or reviewer, you can find Vampire Ventures on NetGalley as well.
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Thanks for joining us for the Hook of a Book Poetry Project. You can read more about it, catch up on past posts this month, as well as posts from previous years, here on my Poetry page. Spread and share to help support the poets and the project.
I am a professional journalist, writer, editor, publicist and marketing and public relations professional, with bachelor's degrees in Journalism, English, and History. I have thirty years of experience in a wide variety of areas in my fields and I’ve currently operated Hook of a Book for 13 years. I’m also an author and a poet!
I'm the author of Breathe. Breathe., a dark poetry and fiction collection published by Unnerving 2017, which debuted at #2 on the Amazon best-selling paid charts right behind NYT best-selling poet Rupi Kaur's newest release and in the Amazon paid top five of horror short stories. This was the extended edition, following a sold-out print chapbook special edition. My poems and stories have been in multiple anthologies and print and e-zines.
In addition to publishing Breathe. Breathe., I also have a short story in the anthology Hardened Hearts, called "The Heart of the Orchard." My short story from Breathe. Breathe., "Dandelion Yellow," has also been re-printed in Project Entertainment Network's anthology My Favorite Story, a collection of stories from podcasters on that former network. My poem "Chained by Love," was featured in the February 2018 issue of Enchanted Conversation: a fairy tale magazine. In the anthology Dark Voices, an all-female TOC published in 2018 with proceeds going to breast cancer awareness, I have a poem called "Wrapped in Battle." In 2018, I also spent time as a co-editor on a Gothic anthology of poetry and short stories called Haunted Are These Houses, featuring some of the biggest names in poetry. 2019 saw several poems published in The Siren's Call Magazine, a short story called "Mia" in the print magazine Outpost 28 which published on Halloween 2019, and a long fiction story of mine published alongside six other author stories in the anthology 7 Deadly Sins of the Apocalypse (which debuted at #1 paid on Amazon best-seller list for horror anthologies at the end of Sept. 2019). In late 2020, I had a short story in the anthology We Are Wolves published by Burial Day, which is an anthology raising funds for women of sexual assault. In 2022, I had a short story about Aphrodite in anthology Musings of the Muses from Brigid's Gate Press. In 2024, I’ll have a poem in a new anthology from Lycan Valley Press about dark familial relationships alongside some powerhouse authors.
I have several books, collections, and poems in various genres in writing process, too, and hope to get a lot more of my own writing completed within the next year. I’m looking for publishers and representation.
With Hook of a Book Media, I have specialized in public relations (PR) and marketing for authors in many forms, and as well I work as a writing coach and editor. I’ve been an editor in some form for thirty years, but ten in fiction. For three years, I was an editor at Sinister Grin Press and also performed marketing and publishing duties. I also recently spent five and a half years with Raw Dog Screaming Press doing PR/publicity. I’ve also frequently done work for Corpus Press when they put things out, about four years. I am a freelance editor for many authors in various genres and have kept that afloat while working for publishers. I have worked with hundreds of authors, many award nominees and winners, with PR and editing work.
I also have always volunteered in my community (until two years ago, spending fifteen continuous years on various board of directors and trustees) and most recently spent two years as President of the Board of Directors for a growing mental health center and rape crisis domestic violence safe haven. I've won a Woman of Achievement Award from my community, been featured with my business in Success Magazine, and was the Young Careerist of the Year Representative for the State of Ohio to the Business and Professional Women National Conference.
I have been a judge for several literary awards, the most recent in 2023 as a screener and final fiction judge for the Ohioana Awards, one of the most prestigious state awards for literature in the nation. Celeste Ng won in 2023.
I have three children - ages 24, 20, and 16 - who I love to spend time with, and a menagerie of cats that are very spoiled. I love books, reading, writing, art, photography, hiking, travel, and Lake Erie. I really enjoy the outdoors and escape to it whenever I can. I live in rural Ohio nestled in the forest, but am close enough to spend many hours every week enjoying all the wonder the Cleveland area has to offer.
HOOK of a BOOK! 