Category Archives: Guest Posts

Guest Article: Is There Anybody There? by Author Catherine Cavendish

Is There Anybody There?
by Catherine Cavendish, author of Damned by the Ancients

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In my novel, Damned by the Ancients, a little girl with a special gift is targeted by the evil and long-dead Dr. Emeryk Quintillus. She even becomes possessed by a dead woman. In real life there are numerous well documented cases of demonic possession and many involve the use of ouija boards or another spirit game called ‘Charlie Charlie’. More of that one later but, for now, let’s have a look at some of the alleged evidence levelled at the use of ouija boards.

Three or four years ago, there were a number of separate cases of students who apparently fell into a trance while playing with the board. They were believed – or believed themselves – to be possessed by malignant spirits. Fellow players saw them behaving oddly, speaking in strange voices and generally acting contrary to their normal natures. Needless to say, as is the way of things, the more the stories circulated, the wilder they became.

One such case dates from November 2014 and involved a group of 35 school students from Santa Cruz de la Sierra in Bolivia. They were playing with an ouija board when they began to suffer from a range of maladies, resulting in hospital treatment. The children exhibited mental distress, trance-like states, rapid pulse rates and profuse sweating. Central and South America seems to be a hotbed for ouija enthusiasts and reports of demonic possession and mass fainting abound – Mexico being a particular centre.

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In fact Mexico currently holds the record for the largest outbreak of ouija-attributed illness so far recorded. In 2006-2007, up to 600 children at a 4,500 girls’ only, strict, Catholic boarding school near Mexico City began to show alarming physical symptoms. Headaches and difficulty in walking without the help of a fellow student were just two of the problems reported. The symptoms would vanish and then recur.

Psychiatrist Nashviela Loa Zavala investigated and concluded the cause was mass hysteria (or in his words, mass psychogenic illness). She discovered that a student at the school had used an ouija board to try and influence the outcome of a basketball game. The student, called Maria, had been summarily expelled for using the game but, in her extreme anger, had allegedly cursed the school.  The psychiatrist learned that, shortly after this, two of her former friends and fellow ouija board enthusiasts began to exhibit the symptoms. It seems belief in the supernatural power of the board and the existence of demons and evil spirits, along with rumours that Maria’s mother was a witch, led to the mass hysteria Dr Zavala diagnosed.

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Now, what is the ‘Charlie Charlie’ game?

Here we can blame social media (can’t we always?). In 2015, this simple form of ouija, originating many years ago in Spain, along with Spanish speaking countries in Central and South America, spread quickly thanks to the power of Twitter and the odd Youtube video. All that is needed is to draw a simple grid as shown on the illustration. In the centre of the grid, place two pencils on top of each other. Now ask closed questions (i.e. those that require a simple ‘yes or no’ answer). You are summoning the supernatural entity called Charlie. First ask him, ‘Charlie, are you there?’ Watch the pencils. The top pencil is the one which will indicate whether a spirit is in attendance. If it begins to pivot, watch where it points and you have the answer to your question. Charlie is communicating with you. Or, of course a draught may have wafted through the room, someone may have breathed a little too heavily, a truck may have thundered past the window, setting up vibrations…

A hundred and one things could be responsible, but belief that a spirit really had joined them was enough to cause four Columbian students to wind up in hospital, ‘screaming and babbling’ as a result of playing ‘Charlie Charlie’. In the same month (May 2015) in Jamaica, Antigua and Barbuda, Barbados, and St Lucia reports flooded in of school children playing the game and ending up falling unconscious, slipping into trances and experiencing confused mental states. The following month, in the Dominican Republic, it was alleged that several young children in a primary school had been ‘possessed by the devil’ while playing the game.

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Of course as with any belief in the supernatural, proving the link between Ouija boards or the ‘Charlie Charlie’ game and evil (or even benign) spirits is impossible to prove (or disprove actually!). Those who are convinced they are in contact with a demon will not be swayed. Those who remain skeptical will point to the laws of science. The two positions are polar opposites.

What do I believe? Whether there is truly anything in it or not, my own experience has made me extremely wary of playing with occult games. When I was eighteen years old, two friends and I had a pretty scary experience with a home-made Ouija board and a heavy-duty water glass that shot across the room and shattered against the wall. This was only after it had spelled out a stream of abuse and obscenities – the like of which none of the three of us would ever use in conversation.

Best to be safe. Leave spirit games to the movies and books.

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Not that this would have helped poor nine-year-old Heidi. Here’s what to expect in Damned by the Ancients…

INFINITY IN DEATH

Vienna, 1908

Gabriele Ziegler is a young art student who becomes infatuated with charismatic archeologist Dr. Emeryk Quintillus. Only too late does she realize his true designs on her. He is obsessed with resurrecting Cleopatra and has retained the famed artist Gustav Klimt to render Gabriele as the Queen of the Nile, using ashes from Cleopatra’s mummy mixed with the paint. The result is a lifelike portrait emitting an aura of unholy evil . . .

Vienna, 2018

The Mortimer family has moved into Quintillus’s former home, Villa Dürnstein. In its basement they find an original Klimt masterpiece—a portrait of Cleopatra art scholars never knew existed. But that’s not all that resides within the villa’s vault. Nine-year-old Heidi Mortimer tells her parents that a strange man lives there.

Quintillus’s desire to be with Cleopatra transcends death. His spirit will not rest until he has brought her back from the netherworld. Even if he has to sacrifice the soul of a child . . .

Damned by the Ancients is available from:

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Barnes and Noble

Apple

Google

Kobo

Kensington Publishing

Catherine Cavendish, Biography –

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Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Catherine Cavendish is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories. Cat’s novels include the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy – Wrath of the Ancients, Waking the Ancients and Damned by the Ancients, plus The Devil’s Serenade, The Pendle Curse and Saving Grace Devine.

Her novellas include Linden Manor, Cold Revenge, Miss Abigail’s Room, The Demons of Cambian Street, Dark Avenging Angel, The Devil Inside Her, and The Second Wife

She lives with her long-suffering husband, and a black cat who has never forgotten that her species used to be worshipped in ancient Egypt. She sees no reason why that practice should not continue. Cat and her family divide their time between Liverpool and a 260-year-old haunted apartment in North Wales.

You can connect with Cat here:

 Catherine Cavendish

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Guest Article: Kevin Lucia on Things You Need, from Clifton Heights Series

Hi everyone! Kevin Lucia stopped by with a guest article in conjunction with the release of his new novel from Crystal Lake Press, called THINGS YOU NEED (out Sept. 28, 2018), which is another release in his Clifton Heights world in the Adirondacks. I really love Kevin’s writing style as its unique and best described, I believe, as cosmic horror leaning very heavily towards quiet horror with a supernatural bent. As Mallory Heart Reviews said, “It creeps up on you with little tiny cat feet.” To me, that’s one of the best types of horror. With Clifton Heights, you can think of Stephen King building up his fictional town of Castle Rock, but as with that, all Kevin’s books have individual story lines. In Things You Need, it’s a collection of short stories with individual story lines as well from the town, and a wrap-around story that makes it even more interesting.

Lucia’s characters quite come alive off the page. Actually, I should say his character Gavin Patchett is the one here at Oh, for the Hook of a Book to talk to us, Lucia was just the facilitator! Patchett will tell us about his investigation into the closing of Blackfort Valley Sports Camp and some….well…interesting accidents that had occurred there, accounts of strange-eyed young men, and an eerie quiet that befalls at night….
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That’s enough to have me intrigued, you? Let’s let Mr. Patchett take over for now, but this also foreshadows a free novella in the Clifton Heights world that will be out from Lucia around Halloween, called Long Night in the Valley.

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Rest in Peace, Blackfoot Valley

After two decades of sitting in neglected ruin, Blackfoot Valley Sports Camp  – on Kipp Hill Road, just outside of Clifton Heights – is finally being laid to rest, some twenty years after its “death.” Looking back, I suppose its end was inevitable. Camp owner Jerry Ruben had quietly battled Multiple Sclerosis his entire adult life, though for most of his tenure as camp director, it had remained safely in remission. No one – not even his colleagues – knew of his condition.

His last three years of ownership, however, the MS reared its ugly head. Amidst growing complications, Jerry struggled to run the camp with his usual efficiency. Many folks say they remember how tired he seemed those last three years. Tired, distracted, and distant. He was far more than tired, of course.

He was dying.

And though no one knew it, Blackfoot Valley was slowly dying with him.

Something more than Jerry Rueben’s illness was brewing back then, however. Something changed at Blackfoot Valley after I last worked here as a counselor the summer of 1992. There were accidents, and deaths. Earlier this week I did some digging on the Internet. According to several archived articles of the Utica Times, I learned these accidents and deaths happened after a failed attempt to build more cabins in the woods behind camp.

Because even though he was dying of MS, Rueben was apparently attempting to expand his operation. His purpose seemed hazy at the time – enrollment at camp was falling, so there was no real need for more cabins – but the construction went ahead, regardless. Maybe because he was sick and fighting for something to hold on to, those around him conceded to his plans. He had the money, he wanted to expand…so why not?

Anyway, before reading those articles, I vaguely remembered hearing something about several bad accidents at Blackfoot Valley while I was away at Webb Community College. What I read in the articles shocked me, however. Apparently, over the course of two months, four workers mysteriously fell to their deaths in the small valley behind the cabins, Blackfoot Valley itself, the one from which the camp owes its name.

No one saw them fall. They were discovered in the morning before work, or at the end of the day, or after lunch, crumpled at the bottom of the valley, their necks broken. Officials couldn’t understand how they fell. The valley’s bottom was certainly filled with dangerous rocks, and the valley was deep enough for a fall to be fatal. But the newly constructed cabins were at least thirty feet from the valley’s edge. The workers had no call to come near the valley…at that time, anyway.

Apparently, there had been plans to construct steps and railings down into the valley, for some vague reason Jerry Rubin never clearly articulated. Something about a “nature walk” for a “different kind of summer camp” he was planning. I discovered exactly what kind of camp through my Internet digging.

According to several more archived articles I found, more deaths and accidents followed, even after the expansion was canceled. Again, four in all, also involving the valley behind camp in some way. The first incident involved Laura Mason, a junior from Utica-Rome. The next, Grace Williams, a local who had worked here as a counselor during Cross Country Camp. The last accident which happened while Blackfoot Valley was still in operation hammered the final “nail” into its coffin. Micah Cassidy – a counselor – saw a promising college basketball future destroyed, along with his knee.

That summer turned out to be Blackfoot Valley’s last as the camp many of us had all known and loved. In the off season, during my junior year of college, Jerry Ruben quietly sold Blackfoot Valley to an out-of-town buyer looking to run a summer “spiritual retreat for youth.” This is where, according to some other articles I’ve discovered, Jerry’s expansion plans could be traced. Before his MS had gotten too bad, Jerry had been in partnership with these out-of-town buyers. His plan had been to change the focus of the camp all along, to make it into a “different kind of summer camp.” What kind of “different” summer camp would become apparent soon enough.

Jerry died a year after the sale. Sometimes, in my crueler moments, I wonder if he died in shame over what he’d planned for Blackfoot Valley.

No one knew much about Blackfoot Valley’s new owners, nor did anyone know or understand Jerry’s motivations for partnering with them. They did little to engage the locals. Technically, Blackfoot Valley sits outside Clifton Heights town limits, so the new owners apparently dealt more with Webb County and not Clifton Heights. Under its new ownership, the camp wasn’t open to local youth. It billed itself as a “private spiritual retreat” and was planning on serving only privileged clientele from out of town.

Rumors spread from the very start that the new “spiritual retreat” was little more than a waystation for rich families to dump their kids. Folks in Clifton Heights whispered the camp itself had become a week-long celebration of decadent teenage vice. In the first few years of its new ownership, people reported driving by the camp late at night and hearing loud music and what sounded like an everlasting rave party. Folks also whispered about the strange-eyed young men – presumably camp counselors – who came into town to buy large quantities of liquor and beer during the weeks camp was operating.

According to the rumors, something changed about three years into Blackfoot Valley’s new ownership. The late-night parties ceased, as well as stories of hearing loud music and carousing. People spoke of an eerie quiet descending over the camp, especially at night. The strange-looking college boys still came into town for booze, but they seemed even stranger, and more distant, if that were possible.

That’s when the new stories began spreading. Ones a little more difficult to blame on hard feelings. Stories more fantastic, improbable, even implausible. The “spiritual retreat” at Blackfoot Valley had become a cult. Camp counselors led their charges in devil worship and orgies. And no one – down to the last person – had anything good to say about those vacant eyed, distant-looking college boys who came into town for booze. They acted strangely mechanical, it was said. As if they were pretending to be regular people and didn’t quite know how to act the part.

How credible are these stories?

Hard to tell. It’s tempting to chalk them up to free-floating resentment about Blackfoot Valley’s sale and Jerry Ruben’s apparent betrayal. For years, Blackfoot Valley Sports Camp was the northeast’s finest summer sports instruction camp, right in our backyard. Local sports legends – such as Micah Cassidy, Kevin Ellison, and Grace Matthews – had honed their skills here. Though I was never more than a seventh man at All Saints, I did also. When a shadowy out of town owner bought it in a deal apparently brokered by Ruben himself, Clifton Heights folks took it personal. I’d like to believe lingering bitterness accounted for most of those rumors.

Still.

The stories of those distant, strange-acting college boys makes me wonder. We get our share of drunken college guys from of our own Webb Community College, and nearby Utica State. Folks grumble about them incessantly, but in an affectionate, possessive way. They may be loud, obnoxious, disrespectful louts…but they’re our loud, obnoxious, disrespectful louts.

The way they talk about those camp counselors? No such affection. More like a barely repressed loathing, as if they’re holding back shivers as they speak of them.

In any case, because the camp’s suddenly cloistered state, and maybe also because of this repressed sort of revulsion for the new camp counselors, over the next three years Clifton Heights and all of Webb County entered in a willful denial of the camp’s continued existence. Slowly but surely, people did their best to banish it from their collective thoughts.

Eventually, those odd counselors stopped coming into town. I imagine folks wondered about that, but figured – and prayed – they’d decided to go elsewhere for their beer, like Old Forge or Whitelake. In any case, people talked less and less about the camp in the small valley outside town, until one day…

Someone drove by and discovered it abandoned. Upon further investigation, they also discovered the final body claimed by Blackfoot Valley. A middle-aged man named Charles Hogan. He’d grown up locally in Clifton Heights. After college he moved to Raleigh, North Carolina, where he lived until his only son tragically died. A year after his son’s death and a grueling divorce, he stopped coming into work and disappeared.

No one knew where to, until six months later his body was found stretched out in the overgrown grass of Blackfoot Valley’s courtyard. Coroners couldn’t determine a cause of death. Because of the corpse’s oddly preserved condition, they couldn’t determine the time of death, either. He could’ve lain there for hours, days….even weeks. Also unknown was why Charles Hogan found his way back to Blackfoot Valley, where, incidentally, he’d been a standout basketball player in his youth. His car was discovered in the parking lot, and based on the debris inside – junk food wrappers, styrofoam coffee cups, crumpled packs of cigarettes, empty beer cans, and old clothes – it appeared he’d been living out of his car from a long time before coming to Blackfoot Valley.

The case remains open to this day.

Also unknown is exactly when or why the “new” Blackfoot Valley ceased its operations. Did Charles Hogan die alone in an abandoned camp…or did the campers and counselors have some hand in his death before they left? Is that why they left? No signs were found as to why everyone left so suddenly, or where they went to. Stories say the camp was strewn with supplies, clothes, food, and booze, as if one day, everyone simply got up and walked out, en masse. The lawns and shrubs showed signs over overgrowth, also.

Despite this shocking turn of events, just as Clifton Heights folks dismissed Blackfoot Valley’s existence, they gradually dismissed its sudden closing and the discovery of Charles Hogan’s body. Blackfoot Valley was closed and in ruins, end of story, Jerry Ruben’s shameful legacy finally buried. Some poor sap had been found dead there, probably because he’d overdosed on drugs or something, and that was all. That Hogan had grown up in Clifton Heights seemed of no importance whatsoever.

Blackfoot Valley Sports Camp fell completely silent for the next twenty years. At some point, ownership must’ve quietly reverted back to the county, but there’s never been any talk of developing the property for other uses until now. No one has ever seemed to care much about trespassing. Looking back on my short time as an English teacher at Clifton Heights High, I remember kids talking about braving old Bassler House (a teenage rite of passage in Clifton Heights) and exploring the ruins of Zoo Town up behind Raedeker Park. Thinking on it, I don’t remember any of them saying a word about messing around at Blackfoot Valley Sports Camp.

Thanks to my own case of willful amnesia, I hadn’t thought twice about Blackfoot Valley myself until I was talking to Kevin Ellison (one of those former standouts I mentioned) in his bookstore, ArcaneDelights, and he mentioned it had finally been purchased by the Nuemann Development Company. It was scheduled to be demolished by the end of the week.

I decided I needed to see it one last time before it came down. After finding those archived articles detailing Blackfoot’s increasingly dark history, I called Bobby Nuemann. He and I attended and played basketball together at Blackfoot Valley High. I called him on the pretense of writing a book about Blackfoot Valley, about who bought it after Jerry Rueben sold it, what may have led to its sudden closing, and the mysteries of its accidents and deaths.  Bobby’s not much of a reader, but he knows about the books I’ve written. He said I could poke around the old camp to my heart’s content.

So here I am.

*

But now that I’m here, standing at the mouth of the cracked asphalt drive, I wonder if I could ever express my true feelings about this place. So many days spent here, playing under the hot blue summer skies, from sixth grade to that last summer before my senior year in high school. Days spent running and jumping, the air split by whistles, coaches barking demands, players yelling while sweat poured down faces, stinging eyes and tasting salty. Nights spent sleeping in bunks, dreaming of the future, of basketball glory, or of the college girls interning in the infirmary that week. Sleeping and dreaming, calves and thighs throbbing with the pleasant ache of exercise.

Proceeding up the warped asphalt path toward the main office building, my flashlight cutting a narrow path ahead in the darkness, I remember also the unpleasant things which happened here, bad things which unfortunately can’t be blamed on anything supernatural. Much as we’d like to preserve memories in a crystalline amber of nostalgia, we have to acknowledge the darkness hiding behind the light. In all our beloved memories, dark things lurk. Blackfoot Valley is no exception.

Approaching the old mess hall, I remember campers dumped here for a week not because they liked basketball or because they wanted to improve their game, but because their parents wanted to pawn them off. I remember their discontent, and in many cases, their misery. I remember how coaches and other players showed these square pegs no mercy. I also remember talented players gone bitter, laboring under the yoke of their athletic parents’ grandiose expectations. From all accounts, Laura Mason, the first victim of the Blackfoot Valley “curse” (yes, that word has actually been used), was one such player.

I remember the bullies, also. Coaches, counselors, and other campers. The desire for power over others knows no boundaries, no age limit. There will always be those who desire most of all to dominate those around them. Much as I loved basketball in high school, as an aggressive contact sport, it does provide ample breeding ground for those who are stronger to overpower those who are weaker. It pains me to admit it, but in my heart, I can’t deny it.

These bullies, who tormented younger campers, the counselors who ruled their cabins with mercurial fists, and the coaches who wielded their whistles like finely honed razors. They linger, these dreadful ghosts, right alongside the good memories. A brooding reminder, I suppose. The brighter and higher the sun, the darker and longer the shadows.

*

As I walk between the main office building (where the camp caretaker bunked during camp) and the mess hall, I can’t see much of the buildings under my flashlight. I suppose that’s a good thing. I even wonder if that’s why I kept puttering around Arcane Delights before it closed, chatting with Kevin Ellison and roaming his stacks aimlessly, without really looking for anything. Maybe I subconsciously knew seeing Blackfoot Valley one last time by the dim moonlight would let me see it as I wished, would let me use the darkness to re-construct an image from cherished memory.

But even the darkness can’t hide the mounds of garbage bags piled on the main house’s front porch as my flashlight sweeps by. It can’t hide the wildly overgrown lawns, or the coach’s dorm behind the main house, which now leans sideways, its roof caved in.

I skirt the coach’s dorm and move past it, walking along the mess hall, which we raided late nights as counselors. We plundered the cereal supplies and leftover desserts after playing hours of basketball. I enjoyed many nights there with my friends, so maybe it’s the best place to start my tour.

I round the corner for the mess hall’s front door, leaving the ruined coach’s dorm behind. I shouldn’t be surprised at what I see…but I am, regardless.

The mess hall door is gone.

The doorway looms open like a black mouth stretching wide in a soundless scream. My hand shakes and hesitates for just a moment (making me feel foolish, like a child) before I steady my hand and direct the flashlight’s beam into the darkness inside.

It doesn’t penetrate.

The flashlight’s white lance fades into the darkness, almost like it’s being absorbed. It’s not reflected or anything like that; there’s no inner door it’s hitting. The deeper it penetrates into the darkness, the flashlight’s beam fades, as if the darkness is absorbing it…or draining its luminescence.

Staring at the dark, I shiver and again think of all those unaccounted years when the mysterious out of town owners ran their private “spiritual retreat,” what Jerry Rueban called “a different kind of summer camp.” I think of  the rumors about what went on, and the discovery of Charles Hogan’s body in a camp abandoned Roanoke-style. I think of the strange-eyed, distant camp counselors,  who didn’t seem to know how to act like real people.

I want to dismiss those stories as hard feelings. Seeing the dark in the old mess hall draining my flashlight, I imagine it cavernous and empty, and I can’t help but think of the stories about strange rituals and even orgies. Abruptly, I want to be as far away from the mess hall as possible.

Soon as I swing my flashlight from the gaping darkness and face the path leading up the hill; I feel better. A subtle pressure is lifted as I turn away. Of course, I dismiss my unease as a product of the night, those whispered rumors, and too much Mary Sangiovanni in my reading diet.

Surely whatever happened here at Blackfoot Valley in its years as a “spiritual retreat” wasn’t anything as unclean as I imagine it to be. Maybe uncouth or unseemly, yes. It’s not hard to imagine Blackfoot Valley turned into a drunken away-camp for rich kids whose parents want to be free of them for a summer. I have no problem swallowing the stories of drunken rave parties and ordinary teenage lust. Surely the other stories are nothing more than dread fancy.

Surely.

But as I face the heaved asphalt path leading to the cabins (which look oddly preserved in the moonlight), the bath house, the main gym at the top of the hill, and the courts beyond, a great sadness fills me. Blackfoot Valley Sports Camp and its memories will be wiped away for good when the bulldozers rumble in tomorrow. All those memories – good and bad – will be torn up and plowed under by moving steel. Whatever may have happened here after the deaths started occurring, or when it became a “spiritual retreat,” will be plowed under, too.

I know why I’ve come, now. I’m at the wake of a dear old friend who went soft in the head and a little crazy at the end, a friend who maybe even went bad…but a friend, nonetheless. And because it seems I’m forever drawn to haunted, abandoned places everyone else has forgotten, it only seems right that I’m here to bear witness when everyone else has forgotten or has chosen to forget because remembering is too painful. I’m a writer, after all. That’s why I write. To remember what others choose to forget.

So, gripping my flashlight tighter, I proceed up the cracked asphalt walk, my flashlight’s beam wavering before me, wondering what strange tales linger in the ruins of Blackfoot Valley Sports Camp, waiting to be gathered and named, lest they be plowed under by moving steel and forgotten forever, and wondering what I’ll start writing about tomorrow, when I sit down at my desk, and pick up my pen.

Gavin Patchett
Clifton Heights, NY

Purchase Things You Need to read more from Clifton Heights:

http://getbook.at/ThingsYouNeed

GoodReads

Thanks so much for reading and to Kevin for joining us!

If you follow along the tour that Kevin put together, you can read many more articles and insights from Gavin Patchett, puzzle pieces if you will, as well as interviews with Kevin Lucia. Enjoy!

Frank Errington MichaelsSeptember 17th – Gavin Patchett’s The Name

Frank Errington Michaels – September 18th – Review

Anton Cancre – Sepember 19th – Hiram Grange’s Vaguely Inappropriate With Gavin Patchett

Amber Fallon – September 22nd – My Lament

Rebecca Snow – September 24th – Interview

Joe Falank – September 26th – Interview/The Man Who Sits in His Chair

Kevin Lucia at Cemetery Dance Online – September 28th – Special Edition of “Revelations”  on Cemetery Dance Online, about how the Greystone Bay Series, edited by Charles L. Grant, influenced Clifton Heights

John Questore – September 29th – The Crayfish God

Erin Al-Mehairi – September 30th – Rest in Peace, Blackfoot Valley

Wesley Southard – October 1st – The Sidewalk Scavenger

Ryan G. Clark – October 3rd – Review

Yvone Davies/The Terror Tree – October 5th – The White Cat of Samara Hill

Mark Allen Gunnells – October 7th – The Cairn

Things You Need

 

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Guest Article: Catherine Cavendish on the Curse of Gleichenberg Castle

Today, I have a guest article for you to read that I think will really spook you! Author Catherine Cavendish will usually do that to you. She’s one of my favorite horror, and especially Gothic horror, authors working today. Her talent shines through in her work and she always writes cool guest articles to coincide with her releases. On Tuesday, the second stand alone book in her Nemesis of the Gods trilogy, Waking the Ancients, will release from Kensington Lyrical Underground. Congratulations, Cat! Readers – definitely check this one out soon – until then, enjoy the article….

The Curse – and Miracle – of Gleichenberg Castle

by Catherine Cavendish, author of Waking the Ancients

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I have set a large part of Waking the Ancients in Vienna, Austria where many ghosts and restless spirits walk among the verdant parks and lavish palaces. But Austrian ghosts do not confine themselves to their nation’s imperial capital. They can be found in towns, cities, villages and the depths of the countryside all over this beautiful land.

Deep in the heart of the picturesque province of Styria, stands the 14th century fortress of Gleichenberg castle which has been the home of Trauttmansdorff family and their descendants throughout its long and troubled history. Legends abound of miracles and terrible curses from within its walls.

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In fact the name Trauttmansdorff might have died out altogether centuries ago when the sole heir—young son of the then Count—lay dying of lung disease. It so happened that a gypsy came to the Count’s court and revealed the location of a hidden spring. Its water had healing properties, the gypsy claimed and, his doctor shaving failed him, the count was desperate for any chance of saving his son. He uncovered the spring and gave the boy water to drink from it. The boy recovered and grew up strong and healthy. Needless to say, the Count rewarded the gypsy well for his services and, over the years, the spring became famous for its miraculous healing powers.

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Things did not go so well for a later Count Trauttmansdorff who was forced, by the Catholic hierarchy, to find twenty local women guilty of witchcraft. He was ordered to have them executed—the usual punishment for such a crime. Before they died however, they all issued a curse against his family that has resonated down through the centuries.  This was at the time of the wars with Turkish invaders who murdered all twenty one of the Count’s sons and nephews, delivering their lifeless, bloody bodies to the Countess. Understandably she became hysterical and never recovered her senses.

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The curse didn’t stop there though. Phantoms and poltergeists scared workers and others away from the Count’s estate. Windows at the castle shattered, doors slammed for no reasons and loud crashing sounds, for which no cause could be traced, echoed down the dark hallways at night. A family member dug up the twenty skeletons of the executed supposed witches and reburied them in the forest, covering the site with concrete. He might as well not have bothered. Fires started in so many parts of the castle that the interior was destroyed. Soon nothing remained but burned out timbers

Now, the castle lies in ruins. The witches’ curse has been fulfilled. Are they satisfied? Do they rest in peace? The current owner, Countess Annie, lives in a charming house where she can look up at the ruins of her ancestral home, its broken walls reaching up into the sky like skeletal fingers. It was her father who tried to rid the castle of its curse by reburying the skeletons. She is utterly convinced of the malignity that continues to reside there. People have knocked on her door, complaining of unseen children throwing stones down at them from the castle. But there are no children there.

Is the continuing activity still down to the witches – or is there another, more evil force at work? Countess Annie is adamant. Whatever is there has taken over. And it means harm to any who cross its path.

Visitors to the area are advised to keep well away from the ground at night. Defy this and you might well find yourself with some unwelcome company…

Of course, Dr. Emeryk Quintillus knows all about unwelcome company…

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Waking the Ancients

Legacy In Death

Egypt, 1908

University student Lizzie Charters accompanies her mentor, Dr. Emeryk Quintillus, on the archeological dig to uncover Cleopatra’s tomb. Her presence is required for a ceremony conducted by the renowned professor to resurrect Cleopatra’s spirit—inside Lizzie’s body. Quintillus’s success is short-lived, as the Queen of the Nile dies soon after inhabiting her host, leaving Lizzie’s soul adrift . . .

Vienna, 2018

Paula Bancroft’s husband just leased Villa Dürnstein, an estate once owned by Dr. Quintillus. Within the mansion are several paintings and numerous volumes dedicated to Cleopatra. But the archeologist’s interest in the Egyptian empress deviated from scholarly into supernatural, infusing the very foundations of his home with his dark fanaticism. And as inexplicable manifestations rattle Paula’s senses, threatening her very sanity, she uncovers the link between the villa, Quintillus, and a woman named Lizzie Charters.

And a ritual of dark magic that will consume her soul . . .

You can find Waking the Ancients here –

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Catherine Cavendish, Biography –

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Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Catherine Cavendish is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories.

Cat’s novels include the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy – Wrath of the Ancients, Waking the Ancients and Damned by the Ancients, plus The Devil’s Serenade, The Pendle Curse and Saving Grace Devine.

She lives with her long-suffering husband, and a black cat who has never forgotten that her species used to be worshipped in ancient Egypt. She sees no reason why that practice should not continue. Cat and her family divide their time between Liverpool and a 260-year-old haunted apartment in North Wales.

You can connect with Cat here –

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Thank you, Cat, for a great article!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Women in History: S.K. Rizzolo Writes on Caroline Norton, 19th Century Social Reformer and Writer

Today I have another guest article in the Women in History or Women Making History series to honor Women’s History Month. I’ll be bringing these to you for the rest of March and into April (along with a poetry series). However, Women in History and Women in Horror will basically last all year if I keep getting posts! I hope you enjoying learning about these fabulous women as much as I have been. Your encouragement and shares can really help us show how important women are in our society!

The post is by S.K. Rizzolo, a California author who pens wonderful mysteries from the 19th Century. She has some great thoughts and an informative article about a crucial social reformer of the time in Britain, Caroline Norton, but how interesting to learn she was also a poet (and writer of other fabulous things as well). Enjoy!

Caroline Norton (1808-1877):
Britain’s 19th Century Social Reformer and Author

Campaigner, social reformer, poet, novelist, and playwright

by S.K. Rizzolo, Author of Historical Mysteries

We go on living with things as they are for a very long time. Centuries pass while we remain trapped in the same old, tired, frozen mindsets that cause so much pain, so much injustice. We cannot seem to overturn things as they are. Perhaps this is because many people (hint: often the ones who most benefit) embrace these systems as natural, inevitable, and moral. Such modes of thought are difficult to question, incredibly tough to shatter.

Just think of the pernicious attitudes toward women that continue to debase our own society. Women have long struggled to achieve full personhood under a belief system that views them as less worthy, less autonomous, less human. But as the recent #MeToo movement has shown, change is possible, and it often starts with a few voices daring to articulate a new truth and inspiring others to participate. I’m sure that speaking out has demanded immense courage from the women challenging the pervasive reach of the patriarchy. There are always risks involved for those who imagine a new and better way. One thing is clear, however. This new way requires a fresh mindset that breaks the chains of the past.

Yes, we look forward. But it seems to me that in the process of reframing the world, using our newly purified perception to form healthier and more just social relations, we must also look to the past and to the women who helped get us here. So today I want to tell you about a foremother who lived in 19th century England, surely an era in which a frozen mindset held many in thrall. It was a time in which respectable women were relegated to domesticity. They were to be selflessly devoted “angels in the house,” while men were free to strive actively for achievements in the public sphere. But neither custom nor law provided for the woman who married a brute or whose marriage crumbled, leaving her without support.

IMAGE _2 Watercolour_sketch_of_Caroline_Norton_by_Emma_Fergusson_1860,_National_Portrait_Gallery_of_Scotland

Watercolor sketch of Caroline Norton, 1860. Attributed to Mrs. Emma Fergusson. Wikimedia Commons. I like this softer, more intimate portrayal of an older Caroline. Wikimedia Commons.

Caroline Norton (1808-1877) was a campaigner and social reformer as well as a poet, novelist, and playwright. Pressured by her mother into marrying a violent drunkard at the age of 19, she became a wife whose husband had the power to abuse her, take her earnings, and ruin her reputation. And she became a mother who was legally deprived of her young children after she separated from this man. To give just two examples of what she faced, her husband—the Honorable George Norton, barrister and M.P—beat her when she was pregnant with their fourth child, causing her to lose the baby. In 1836 George Norton also sued Caroline’s friend, the Whig Prime Minister Lord Melbourne, for a vast amount of money, accusing him of “criminal conversation” or adultery with his estranged wife. Melbourne was acquitted, but the scandal ruined Caroline. And after the trial she discovered that the law did not allow her to obtain a divorce.

Although she never regained custody of her three sons because of George Norton’s implacable revenge, this personal tragedy led her to social activism. Her efforts were a huge factor in the passage of the Custody of Infants Act of 1839, which was a first step in establishing the rights to our children that mothers rely upon today. Because of this law, for the first time divorced women (“of unblemished characters”) could petition the court for custody of their children under seven and had rights of access to their older children. Later, Caroline was instrumental in securing the passage of the Matrimonial Causes Act of 1857, which made divorce more accessible. And she helped lay the groundwork for the 1870 Married Women’s Property Act, which allowed married women to retain their earnings and inherit property.

All this was possible only because Caroline was willing to challenge the orthodoxies of her time. She petitioned Parliament and Queen Victoria and wrote pamphlets and letters to the newspapers to protest a state of affairs in which “a married woman in England has no legal existence: her being is absorbed in that of her husband.” No legal existence. These words erase the self and sound to me like the slamming of the prison cell door—a door that Caroline found a way to crack open. You can’t exactly call her a “feminist,” though I don’t think the label matters. She was of her time, stating that “the natural position of woman is inferiority to man…I never pretended to the wild and ridiculous doctrine of equality.” In my view, this just shows the power of any era’s prevailing mentality and makes Caroline’s accomplishments the more remarkable.

Watercolor sketch of Caroline Norton, 1860. Attributed to Mrs. Emma Fergusson. Wikimedia Commons. I like this softer, more intimate portrayal of an older Caroline.

IMAGE _1 Caroline Norton Writing

George Hayter’s 1832 portrait of the Honorable Mrs. Caroline Norton. Appropriately, Norton is shown with an open book and pen in hand. She and her two sisters, the granddaughters of the playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan, were famous society beauties in their day and were known as “The Three Graces.” Wikimedia Commons.

Today Caroline Norton is mostly remembered for her work as a reformer, but I want to end by celebrating her as a writer and poet. Somehow in the midst of her marital struggles and her grief over the loss of her children, she managed to produce over a dozen poetry collections, five novels, and two plays. Not content to stop there, she was even the leader of a literary salon and the editor of a fashionable women’s magazine! How hard it must have been for her to persevere in her ambitions. Indeed, Caroline acknowledged as much when she wrote to her friend the author Mary Shelley: “Does it not provoke you sometimes to think how ‘in vain’ the gift of genius is for a woman? How so far from binding her more closely to the admiration and love of her fellow creatures, it does in effect create that gulf across which no one passes.”

Well, I hope we can step across the gulf to honor Caroline and assert that her gift was not in vain, no matter what she thought in any moment of despondency, no matter what cultural, physical, and mental chains her society had forged to bind women.

My heart is like a withered nut,

Rattling within its hollow shell;

You cannot ope my breast, and put

Any thing fresh with it to dwell.

The hopes and dreams that filled it when

Life’s spring of glory met my view,

Are gone! and ne’er with joy or pain

That shrunken heart shall swell anew.

From “My Heart is Like a Withered Nut” by Caroline Norton

S.K. Rizzolo, Biography –

02_SK Rizzolo AuthorAn incurable Anglophile, S.K. Rizzolo writes mysteries exploring the darker side of Regency England. Her series features a trio of crime-solving friends: a Bow Street Runner, an unconventional lady, and a melancholic barrister.

Currently she is at work on a new novel introducing a female detective in Victorian London. Rizzolo lives in Los Angeles with Oliver Twist and Lucy, her cats, and Michael, her husband. She also has an actress daughter named after Miranda in The Tempest.

Here is the book cover and synopsis to S.K.’s latest book in her series, On a Desert Shore, of which I reviewed a few years ago HERE.

On a Desert Shore cover - by Rolf Busch.jpg

London, 1813: A wealthy West India merchant’s daughter is in danger with a vast fortune at stake. Hired to protect the heiress, Bow Street Runner John Chase copes with a bitter inheritance dispute and vicious murder. Meanwhile, his sleuthing partner, abandoned wife Penelope Wolfe, must decide whether Society’s censure is too great a bar to a relationship with barrister Edward Buckler.

On a Desert Shore stretches from the brutal colony of Jamaica to the prosperity and apparent peace of suburban London. Here a father’s ambition to transplant a child of mixed blood and create an English dynasty will lead to terrible deeds.

Visit her on her website where you can also view her books.

THANK YOU for a marvelous post, S.K.!!

Keep following us for more guest articles about Women in History or Women Making History throughout March and April.

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Women in History: Life of Jayne Mansfield by Somer Canon

As part of Women in History Month, I’m posting guest articles about women in history or women making history for the month of March and April. I did this special series in 2014 and 2017 as well, which you can find archived on this site under the tab Women in History. I’m always willing to take guest articles on this subject for the series, or any time of the year as well. I have quite a few fabulous ones coming up soon!

Today, I welcome horror author Somer Canon, who also has an obsession with old Hollywood! She did a great article last year on Lauren Bacall, and now, she presents us with Jayne Mansfield!

Jayne Mansfield: The Smartest Dumb Blond

By Somer Canon, author of Vicki Beautiful and Killer Chronicles

Born Vera Jayne Palmer in 1933 in Bryn Mawr, PA, the future Jayne Mansfield knew from an early age that she wanted to be a movie star.  Jayne fell in love with Hollywood after a vacation there with her family as a child, and like Marilyn Monroe (her upscale contemporary), she became enamored of the blond bombshell image watching Jean Harlow.

Jayne Mansfield.jpg

Jayne got the name Mansfield from her first husband, a high school boyfriend who she married at the age of seventeen.  Soon after, she gave birth to her first child, but that wasn’t even close to enough to chain Jayne to a kitchen stove, performing the domestic life.  She completed her high school education and then went to college.  She studied acting, of course, but she also took more academic classes.

You see, Jayne Mansfield was smart.  Mensa smart.  She spoke five languages and played violin well enough to stun professional concert musicians.  The sadness to her intelligence is that, while doing research for this article, it was easier to find Jayne’s measurements, different ones throughout her life, than it was to get a consistent measure of her IQ.  You can find her bust size after pregnancy easier than you can verify whether or not she was ever actually a member of Mensa.

Part of this was Jayne’s own doing.  She put that powerful mind of hers to work making her aspirations for stardom come to fruition.  Jayne was the queen of publicity stunts.  To a modern eye, a lot of that seems very familiar.  Today, publicity stunts are not at all new or rare, and in truth, they weren’t in Jayne’s time either. Jayne just kicked the standards for publicity stunts into a different atmosphere.  She loved “wardrobe malfunctions”, the most famous of which is a picture of Jayne sitting at a table with Sophia Loren, Sophia looking at Jayne’s spilling bosom with a hilarious look of disapproval.

 

Jayne and Sophia.jpg

Photo credit: E! Online

 

Many appearances in Playboy, and even a publicity stunt with Anton LaVey of The Church of Satan, got Jayne the much-wanted attention that she worked for but she always fell short of superstardom.  She was dubbed “the working man’s Monroe,” never quite hitting the same high and needing always to fall back on those stunts.

The irony is that Jayne’s biggest roles were parodies, making fun of the dumb blond image that Marilyn Monroe was banking.  In “The Girl Can’t Help It “and “Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?” Jayne’s characters are poking fun at the blond bombshell to the point where her Marilyn-like breathy way of speaking is obviously parody.  Unfortunately for Jayne, with the emergence of Twiggy and Audrey Hepburn, the curvaceous dumb blond fell out of style and she was forced to resort to the club scene, singing and dancing in tiny outfits.  Hollywood suddenly had no place for her kind any longer.

She rebelled against studios who wanted to own her sexuality by not hiding away her children.  You see, in those days, sex symbols weren’t mothers and they weren’t supposed to be married to beefcakes like her second husband, bodybuilder Mickey Hargitay. Studios thought a woman’s sensuality was compromised by marriage and motherhood, but Jayne wouldn’t allow that.  She maintained sex symbol status through three marriages and five children, one of whom you may recognize if you’re a fan of Law & Order SVU, Mariska Hargitay.

 

mariska-hargitay-and-jayne-mansfield-gallery

Photo credit: coolspotters.com

 

On the night of June 29, 1967, Jayne, three of her children, and her current boyfriend piled into a car after one of her club shows and planned to drive through the night for an appearance the next day.  It was foggy and the young driver didn’t see that the truck in front of them had stopped until it was too late.  Jayne, her boyfriend, and the driver were killed.  She was 34.

jayne374

Although some of Jayne’s methods may be unseemly to some, her stunt-queening and grabs for attention sometimes coming off as cheap, she got fame and she did it on her terms.  Even when Hollywood turned its back on her in favor of more fashionable categories of beauty, she never stopped working and hustling and I believe that if she were alive today, we would still be seeing pictures of the lovely Jayne sitting poolside in a bikini and smiling coquettishly at the camera, soaking up that which she craved.

Somer Canon, Biography – 

Somer CanonSomer Canon is a minivan revving suburban mother who avoids her neighbors for fear of being found out as a weirdo. When she’s not peering out of her windows, she’s consuming books, movies, and video games that sate her need for blood, gore, and things that disturb her mother.

But enough about me, you’re here for the fiction!  Please find her on her website and feel free to find me on Facebook (Author page only, please!) and Twitter.

Watch for Somer’s next upcoming book this year, The Killer Chronicles, in e-book and print from Bloodshot Books. Until then, you can read her novella Vicki Beautiful, as well as some short stories and anthologies she’s featured in, like Hardened Hearts.

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Guest Article: Historical Inspiration Peeked from Rough Riders to The Volunteers by John Nuckel

I welcome John Nuckel to Oh, for the Hook of a Book! to talk about the inspiration for his latest book, Drive, which he found after reading about the Rough Riders and The Volunteers. I’m always intrigued by secret societies and this time period in NYC. John uses his research as the basis for a modern day crime thriller. I hope you enjoy the article as much as I did. Enjoy!

How I Found Historical Inspiration in The Volunteers

by John Nuckel, author of Drive

My latest book, Drive, is the first novel in The Volunteers series.

The idea for The Volunteers came to me as I was reading the history of Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders. I found that many of the men in that troop came from my hometown, New York City. It was especially compelling to find that many of the officers in the Rough Riders were from prominent and wealthy families. I learned that William Tiffany of jewelry fame died as a result of a fever he developed during his time in the Cuban jungles with the Rough Riders. In that era people of a certain class were expected to serve and to make a contribution towards the greater good.

The creation of The Volunteers series came to me after my research led me to another wealthy New Yorker who served with the Rough Riders. Woodbury Kane was a relative of the John Jacob Astor family. It is Kane in the foreground in Remington’s painting of the storming of San Juan Hill, pistol in hand. When I sought out his bio and read that his profession was Yachtsman and Bon Vivant, I had to use him as a character.

The story starts when Kane returns home to New York and is no longer content to live the life of the gilded set. He forms the Volunteers to fight against the tyranny of Tammany Hall around the turn of the last century. Kane is joined by his friend, Jacob Riis, the trailblazing journalist, and Teddy Roosevelt himself. Together they work to do what is right: “Et Omnia Recta.” Their purpose is to lift the common man from the oppression of the corrupt Tammany government.

Like any great world city, New York has more interesting characters and events to count. In Drive, Kane and Riis deal with the forbearers of the American Mafia, Paul Kelly, and Monk Eastman, the enforcers for Tammany politicians and founders of the gangs that produced Myer Lansky, Lucky Luciano, and Al Capone, among many others.

The Volunteers have stayed active in the background to this day. They still meet in the saloons and mansions of the early years and remain steadfast in their calling, Et Omnia Recta.

The parallel story in Drive takes place in today’s New York, when Annie Falcone, a NYPD officer, is recruited to protect America’s greatest technological mind from a murderous Chinese hacker. Her assignment takes her to Martha’s Vineyard, where it will take all of her skills and her “drive” to survive the mission.

The Volunteers series will cover many of the scandals and news events in New York City over the last 120 years. The second book in the series, will be set during the Harlem Renaissance. The famous Cotton Club was owned by and Irish gangster, Owney Madden, and is the heart of the story.

Every crooked politician, mob king, showgirl, and jazz musician in New York spent time in the club. What could possibly go wrong? What fun to write and read.

I hope you enjoy Drive and that you will join me on my journey with The Volunteers series.

ebook

Drive, Synopsis –

Et Omnia Recta—to make things right.

n the late 1800s, a secret society is formed by a captain from Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders with the support of the nation’s leading industrialists and bankers. Over a century later, the tradition continues, in the same saloons and boardrooms of New York City where it all began.

In this crime thriller, where history and current events unite, Woodbury Kane, Jacob Riis, and Roosevelt himself fight the tyranny of Tammany Hall in the first mission of the Volunteers during the turn of the last century.

In today’s New York, the descendants of the Volunteers recruit Annie Falcone, a New York police officer, who takes the oath: Et Omnia Recta. She is to provide protection to one man, America’s top technological mind, from his longtime adversary, Sheng, China’s most brutal hacker.

Annie is unaware that she’s merely a decoy to draw Sheng out for the hit squad that was sent ahead of her. Her instincts alone will be the force behind the success or failure of the mission.

Like so many other Volunteers before her, Annie’s survival depends upon her courage, her skill, and her DRIVE.

John Nuckel, Biography – 

John_N-9.jpg

John Nuckel went from the welfare apartments of a middle-class town to a successful career in the financial world. Even in the midst of his accomplishments, he knew he needed to express himself creatively. He’s always said he met enough characters sitting on barstools on Wall Street to fill a dozen books, so now he’s embracing his creative spirit by writing. He encouraged others to do the same on his radio show, “Wake Up and Dream.”

He is a New York Times contributing writer and the author of three white-collar crime thrillers in The Rector Street Series (The Vig, Grit, and Blind Trust), as well as two short stories (The Victory Grill and The Garden). Drive is his latest work.

Find more about John –

Website

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Purchase Links – 

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Thanks for a wonderful article, John!

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Women in History: Waiting for Baby the Medieval Way by Anna Belfrage

In the last post, I reviewed Anna Belfrage’s The Cold Light of Dawn, and now, as part of her online tour for the release of the book and my Women in History series, Anna has stopped by to talk about pregnancy “rules” in the 14th century. At the end of the article, she gives an excerpt from her book showing how this culture was practiced in her book, but as well showing the remarkable ease in which her main characters loved and conversed with each other.

Thank you for a wonderful post, Anna!

Waiting for the Baby the Medieval Way

by Anna Belfrage, historical fiction author of The Cold Light of Dawn

In our time, women are generally encouraged to live their life as normal while pregnant. “Being pregnant is not an illness,” some will say, and this is one of those truisms that may very well grate on the ears of the pregnant lady in question. Yes, a pregnancy is not an illness, but for some it is a hardship.

I imagine the wise old women back in the 14th century were of the same opinion: being with child was a blessing, not an ailment. However, the medical (and social) expertise of the time considered it very important that a woman nearing the delivery date be shielded from the more brutal aspects of life, which is why high-born ladies generally spent the last month or so of their pregnancy in confinement.

Confinement meant the lady in question was restricted to her rooms. To avoid too much sensory stimulations, the windows were shuttered, the walls hung with fabrics in muted colours and pastimes were restricted to things like sewing or praying. Men were strictly forbidden—unless it was a priest. Personally, I would have gone bonkers.

Lower class women could not afford confinement. First of all, they probably shared one room with their entire family, so where was she to be confined? Secondly, her family depended on what income she may have brought in, be it doing laundry or baking or brewing beer. No, our lower class mothers worked until the baby decided it was time to enter the world and likely were back at work some days later, even if a recently delivered woman was considered unclean until she’d been adequately churched. The solution to that little problem was that the woman in question worked from home for some weeks.

The confined woman was expected to rest, to turn her focus inwards as she prepared herself for the coming ordeal. Everyone knew women birthed their children in pain and blood—a divine punishment meted out to women because of Eve’s curiosity in the Garden of Eden. Accordingly, all expecting mothers knew they were in for a tough time. There were no drugs, no anaesthetics, no caesareans. If the baby got stuck or died in utero, the mother died as well. And she often did. So the expectant mother spent a lot of time praying: for the child, for herself. She prayed to God, the Virgin and to St Margaret of Antioch.

I suspect most women were in two minds about the confinement. Yes, it gave them ample opportunity to rest, but there must have been an element of frustration—especially if the soon-to-be-mother was one of those women who carry their children with ease. Some women seem to have avoided being confined—Edward I’s second wife, Margaret of France, is famous for having given birth to her eldest son after a long and gruelling ride. But for most, there was no choice.

The confinement chambers were ready. The bed had been re-hung in the mildest of yellows, the walls adorned with tapestries depicting flowers and gentle creatures such as unicorns. A sanctuary for the expectant mother, the rooms were furnished with cushions and expensive carpets, a brightly coloured wooden statue of the Virgin and her child adorning the altar in the adjoining little chapel.

A new chair set before the hearth, a basket of embroidering silks with which to pass the time, ells of fine linen to convert into smocks and gowns for the eagerly awaited babe. Yes, all in all, the chambers were ready—and as asphyxiating as a prison, Kit thought, supervising the two men who were finalising the hanging of the heavy drapes that were to cover the windows. Once Philippa retired within these walls, she would not be seen until after the birth of her child.

“Never,” Kit told Adam when she was given leave to accompany him on a walk. “Promise me you’ll never demand that I retire to my chambers for my laying in.” They were well into the cooling shade of the woods, the river running silent and dark beside them.

“You’ve been brought to bed of seven babes without being thus confined. Why would things change now?” He drew her close and kissed her brow. “Besides, I dislike being deprived of your company and proximity, no matter that Mabel maintains it is most inappropriate that we share a bed all the way to the birthing.” There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Sharing in every sense, sweeting.”

She laughed softly. “Philippa is of a like mind, but for her there is no escaping the conventions.  Isabella is adamant: the queen goes into confinement after Sunday mass.” She pressed her bosom against his arm in a provocative gesture. “Five more days in which she can share her nights with her husband.”

02_The Cold Light of Dawn

The Cold Light of Dawn by Anna Belfrage

Publication Date: February 16, 2018
Matador & TimeLight Press
eBook & Paperback; 434 Pages

Series: The King’s Greatest Enemy, Book #4 Genre: Historical Fiction

After Henry of Lancaster’s rebellion has been crushed early in 1329, a restless peace settles over England. However, the young Edward III is no longer content with being his regents’ puppet, no matter that neither Queen Isabella nor Roger Mortimer show any inclination to give up their power. Caught in between is Adam de Guirande, torn between his loyalty to the young king and that to his former lord, Roger Mortimer.

Edward III is growing up fast. No longer a boy to be manipulated, he resents the power of his mother, Queen Isabella, and Mortimer. His regents show little inclination of handing over their power to him, the rightful king, and Edward suspects they never will unless he forces their hand.

Adam de Guirande is first and foremost Edward’s man, and he too is of the opinion that the young king is capable of ruling on his own. But for Adam siding with his king causes heartache, as he still loves Roger Mortimer, the man who shaped him into who he is.

Inevitably, Edward and his regents march towards a final confrontation. And there is nothing Adam can do but pray and hope that somehow things will work out. Unfortunately, prayers don’t always help.

The Cold Light of Dawn is the fourth in Anna Belfrage’s series, The King’s Greatest Enemy, the story of a man torn apart by his loyalties to his lord and his king.

Purchase Links –

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes and Noble

Anna Belfrage, Biography –

03_Anna Belfrage.jpgAnna was raised abroad, on a pungent mix of Latin American culture, English history and Swedish traditions. As a result she’s multilingual and most of her reading is historical – both non-fiction and fiction. Possessed of a lively imagination, she has drawers full of potential stories, all of them set in the past. She was always going to be a writer – or a historian, preferably both. Ideally, Anna aspired to becoming a pioneer time traveller, but science has as yet not advanced to the point of making that possible. Instead she ended up with a degree in Business and Finance, with very little time to spare for her most favourite pursuit. Still, one does as one must, and in between juggling a challenging career Anna raised her four children on a potent combination of invented stories, historical debates and masses of good food and homemade cakes. They seem to thrive…

For years she combined a challenging career with four children and the odd snatched moment of writing. Nowadays Anna spends most of her spare time at her writing desk. The children are half grown, the house is at times eerily silent and she slips away into her imaginary world, with her imaginary characters. Every now and then the one and only man in her life pops his head in to ensure she’s still there.

Other than on her website, www.annabelfrage.com, Anna can mostly be found on her blog, http://annabelfrage.wordpress.com – unless, of course, she is submerged in writing her next novel. You can also connect with Anna on FacebookTwitter and Goodreads.

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Tour Schedule is HERE!

Hashtags: #TheColdLightofDawnBlogTour #AnnaBelfrage #historical #historicalfiction #blogtour #booktour #HFVBTBlogTours #amreading #bookblogger #bookbloggers #books #reading #giveaway #bookgiveaway

Facebook Tags: @hfvbt @annabelfrageauthor

Twitter Tags: @hfvbt @abelfrageauthor

Giveaway

During the Blog Tour we will be giving away a complete set of The King’s Greatest Enemy series to one winner & two winners will win a paperback copy of The Cold Light of Dawn! To enter, please enter via the Gleam form below.

Giveaway Rules

– Giveaway ends at 11:59pm EST on March 30th.
-You must be 18 or older to enter.
– Giveaway is open INTERNATIONALLY.
– Only one entry per household.
– All giveaway entrants agree to be honest and not cheat the systems; any suspect of fraud is decided upon by blog/site owner and the sponsor, and entrants may be disqualified at our discretion.
– Winner has 48 hours to claim prize or new winner is chosen.

Enter to Win HERE!

 

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#HookonWiHM: Focus on Author Gwendolyn Kiste Via Calvin Demmer

February is Women in Horror Month! Though I agree women should be celebrated on the same level as men every day of the year, I like to partake in Women in Horror projects as a catalyst for spreading the good news and works of women in the genre in hopes that it will carry on throughout the year. It’s time to celebrate and show off what we got! For those of you reading, men AND women both, make an effort to read and watch more horror produced by women this year.

For the #HookonWiHM, or Women in Horror Month at Hook of a Book, we’ll be hosting interviews conducted by men and women with other women in horror. Watch for those spread throughout the month, and if you want in, contact me! Find more info HERE.

Now, without further wait, I’d like to introduce Calvin Demmer who has enthusiastically interviewed the amazing author Gwendolyn Kiste! I am more than pleased to say that I share a TOC with them in the Unnerving anthology Hardened Hearts and very much enjoyed both their stories. Further, I was excited to recently find out that Gwendolyn is originally from Ohio, where I currently live!

Take it away, Calvin – enjoy!

INTERVIEW WITH HORROR AUTHOR GWENDOLYN KISTE –

Gwendolyn Kiste_Black and White Headshot

Was it difficult to select which stories to include in your debut collection And Her Smile Will Untether the Universe (Published by Journalstone)?

Overall, it wasn’t too terribly difficult, though it was so important to me not only to select the right stories but also to curate them in the absolute best order. This definitely took some time, and I was lucky to have my editor Jess Landry there to help me. All fourteen of the stories that I submitted to her for the collection made the cut for the book, but she helped with the order, opening with the avian horror story, “Something Borrowed, Something Blue,” and closing with the darkly romantic body horror tale, “The Lazarus Bride.” She felt both of those pieces focused similarly on themes of death and rebirth, and worked well in conversation with each other, and I couldn’t have agreed more.

As for other considerations in putting together the collection, several of the previously published stories are available for free online, so I felt it was important to offer readers something completely new. That’s what led me to including five stories original to the collection. Now that’s it been almost a year since publication, it’s interesting to take stock of the table of contents again and realize that I can’t imagine a different order or different stories.

These fourteen tales definitely cover all of my favorite themes: body horror, fairy tales, sisterhood, twisted romantic relationships, and of course, otherness and the role of the outsider in pushing back against the confines of society. I’m so grateful every day to Jess and JournalStone for releasing this book. It’s completely changed my career and brought me to so many more readers, which is the only thing that a writer can ever truly want for their career.

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How did you find the process from writing short stories to writing your novella Pretty Marys All in a Row (Broken Eye Books)?

It was a really wonderful—as well as daunting—experience to make the leap from short fiction to a longer form. In some ways, my approach to short fiction is a bit more free-flow: because the projects are shorter by design, I let them evolve much more naturally and then go back and edit the stories if I find that I ultimately didn’t need certain details or subplots. However, with a novella or any longer fiction, that free-flow approach can become more problematic. What’s easy to edit when it’s only 5,000 words can quickly become a nightmare for a 30,000-word story.

So I would say the main difference for me is how much more planning goes into my longer works. For example, prior to even starting the first draft of my novel, The Rust Maidens, I wrote out an 11,000-word outline. Almost none of those words ended up directly in the novel, but I knew every single direction the book was going to take. Every character, every setting, every scene. There were no surprises at all, which made drafting the book much smoother.

I took a similar approach with Pretty Marys All in a Row, though the outline was a little more informal with a page or two of notes for each chapter that included locations, character goals, and specific starting and ending points for all the scenes. Part of me really loves the spontaneity of letting a story evolve like I do with my short fiction, but when the moment comes midway through a longer project that it starts to become a bit of a struggle, I’m incredibly grateful that I’ve planned ahead. It’s definitely what’s helped to keep me going so far with my longer works.

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You collaborated with Emily Cataneo for the novella In Her Flightless Wings, a Fire (which will appear in Chiral Mad 4). How was the experience working with another writer?

I’d never collaborated with another writer before, especially on such a big project, so I had no idea what to expect when we started. Fortunately, Emily and I quickly worked out a good system for how to make the collaboration dovetail with both our visions. Once we had the basic elements for the story—ballet, sisters, witchcraft, turn-of-the-century Europe—we each crafted a point-of-view character, and wrote our alternating sections from our character’s perspective. Then we came together and worked to smooth out any inconsistencies and create a cohesive whole. Ultimately, In Her Flightless Wings, a Fire ended up in novella-length territory, and we were both very excited with how it turned out. When editors Michael Bailey and Lucy A. Snyder accepted it for Chiral Mad 4, I imagine you could hear Emily and I both squealing for joy for a several-mile radius.

Your debut novel, The Rust Maidens, will be published this year. Can you tell us a little about it?

Well, first off, I’m insanely excited and a little nervous about it! Obviously, it’s a big moment for every author to have a novel, but it’s so wonderfully terrifying too. And of course, you want to be sure that it’s the right book for your debut. Fortunately, I think I found a good balance with The Rust Maidens, since it at once includes elements from my short fiction while expanding upon my work in a number of ways that I hope readers will enjoy.

Based primarily in 1980, the book follows one Cleveland, Ohio neighborhood as the economy starts to unravel at the same time that the local girls begin transforming into something otherworldly. I’ve been describing it as David Cronenberg’s The Fly meets The Virgin Suicides. Lots of body horror, gruesome transformations, and coming-of-age themes in the Midwest, which is where I grew up. I never thought I’d “go back home,” so to speak, in my fiction, but once I came up with the concept for this book, I knew it was definitely a direction I was always meant to take. I wanted to write something about the economic losses so many people in the region have dealt with over the years, as well as the ecological disasters that have plagued Lake Erie for decades. To be honest, once I started writing about the Rust Belt, I realized just how much horror haunts the everyday recesses of the area, so it seems very naturally situated for a darkly supernatural novel.

We don’t have an official release scheduled yet for The Rust Maidens, but that date should be coming very soon, so definitely watch my website and the Trepidatio Publishing social media pages for those details!

Who are some of the female horror authors you believe people should be reading?

Honestly, there are way too many to list here, but I will do my best. I’m a huge fan of Farah Rose Smith, Brooke Warra, and Eden Royce in particular. We already mentioned Emily B. Cataneo, but her name certainly deserves to be repeated as well. My editor at JournalStone/Trepidatio, Jess Landry, is also a writer and a fantastic one at that.

Of course, I could go on and on: Lori Titus, Anya Martin, Nadia Bulkin, S.P. Miskowski, Denise Tapscott, Sumiko Saulson, Catherine Grant, Scarlett R. Algee, Rebecca Allred, Carrie Laben, Kenya Moss-Dyme. I usually focus on fiction, but in terms of horror poets, Christina Sng and Saba Razvi are two names everyone should definitely seek out. Truly, there are so many wonderful female horror authors working today, and it’s such an honor to be among their contemporaries

Gwendolyn Kiste_Black and White Headshot

Gwendolyn Kiste, Biography –

Gwendolyn Kiste is the author of And Her Smile Will Untether the Universe, her debut fiction collection from JournalStone, as well as the dark fantasy novella, Pretty Marys All in a Row, from Broken Eye Books. Her short fiction has appeared in Nightmare MagazineShimmerBlack StaticDaily Science FictionInterzoneLampLight, and Three-Lobed Burning Eye as well as Flame Tree Publishing’s Chilling Horror Short Stories anthology, among others. A native of Ohio, she spends her days hanging out on an abandoned horse farm outside of Pittsburgh where she lives with her husband, two cats, and not nearly enough ghosts. You can find her online at gwendolynkiste.com.

Book Purchase Links –

And Her Smile Will Untether the Universe

Pretty Marys All in a Row

Thanks so much to Calvin Demmer for highlighting Gwendolyn!

CalvinDemmer

Calvin Demmer, Biography –

Calvin Demmer is a dark fiction author. His work has appeared in Broadswords and Blasters, Empyreome Magazine, Mad Scientist Journal, Ravenwood Quarterly, Switchblade, and others. When not writing, he is intrigued by that which goes bump in the night and the sciences of our universe. You can find him online at www.calvindemmer.com.

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Women in Horror Month (WiHM) is an international, grassroots initiative, which encourages supporters to learn about and showcase the underrepresented work of women in the horror industries. Whether they are on the screen, behind the scenes, or contributing in their other various artistic ways, it is clear that women love, appreciate, and contribute to the horror genre.

 

 

 

 

 

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Welcome to 2018: Book Lovers and Writers Unite!

emoticon hiWelcome to the SEVENTH year here at Oh, for the Hook of a Book! That’s right, SEVEN years! We are celebrating our seventh year of bringing you news about books, reviews, interviews, guest articles, and our professional editing and publicity services. We’ve seen a lot happen over these last seven years and I want to personally thank everyone, in all the genres we dabble in, for their support. You have my eternal gratitude for your respect, inspiration, and love.

UPDATE ON THIS BLOG

At times, I get so busy working in publishing, polishing books by others and sharing them with the world, and in what little free time I have, and depending on the season, I have the needs of my growing three kids, so this blog doesn’t see as many reviews or interviews as in the days I tried to do five to six posts a week that were strictly reviews and interviews. In fact, when I started it seven years ago, it was to talk about the books I was writing! It was my outlet for that from my busy job(s) as a marketing and PR professional out there in the world.

Now, I’m running Hook of a Book Media and working with many top indie authors and writers, even bloggers and publishers, on editing, writing mentorship, and marketing and public relations/publicity. Currently, I work with not only authors, but directly for Sinister Grin Press as an editor and doing marketing and publicity as well as Raw Dog Screaming Press. Working in publishing is very busy. I often work 7 days a week and some days 15-18 hours a day, seasonally. Out of the book industry, I still occasionally do marketing, advertising, copy writing, and PR work for business and non-profits. As well, I am chair of the board of directors of a our local mental health center and rape crisis domestic violence shelter. This also keeps me busy!

But since I’ve stopped doing as many posts, I’m happy to say though that my traffic, due to all my well-written content, stays very high each month and posts are read and re-read even from many years ago. I learned to write for SEO many moons ago, and so much of my views come from google searches. I’m very proud of that. As much as I can, I hope to continue to do reviews, interviews, news, and hosting guest articles on my blog, interspersed with news of my own publications and writing pursuits. This is NOT a review mill, but a site run by an educated journalist, a PR professional, editor, and author.

WHAT NOT TO DO AS AN AUTHOR

I’ve not got off to a great start of posting here in 2018 yet, at least in the realm of posting reviews and interviews at least. My first major post at the beginning of the month was to be an interview with a historical fiction author. It was one that I was to post months prior, but that I hadn’t gotten posted due to our overwhelming personal struggles last year (including moving to a rural area, no internet service – then it taking over two months of a wait for installation, family problems, my son having a very long extended illness, my kids needing me, etc), and the blog becoming a last priority.

As the air cleared a little, and our internet finally was hooked up, and life had a bit more of a routine, even on crazy days, I began to catch up, and I posted the interview. I noted at the beginning of the interview about the delay, the season, and that I wanted to get 2018 off to a better start. Unfortunately, the author asked me, after I had spent about two hours formatting it, to take it down and re-post in the coming summer, also indicating to me that in the introduction I had written, since I noted one thing of accomplishment she had achieved since my previous review posted,  I had left off two awards she won (I hadn’t heard).

As this blog is volunteer-run, posts and hours to do them are always free, and I’m already spread very thin, often times only sleeping two hours a night (and sometimes struggling with my own health issues), so I didn’t really take too kindly to this at all from a personal stand-point. Being cordial back, and as always a professional, I removed the post and only asked her to remind me when she wanted posted, but did indicate to her that I wished she had respected my judgement. I hold no ill will. But as a future note to authors, both from the stance of running this site and personal desires, plus as a note from me as a professional, don’t do this. Don’t harass, embarrass, or take bloggers, reviewers, or media and their time for granted. Most of them, if not all of them, in the book world, do it as a labor of love. When you do these things, it makes it more like free labor and less like love.

My interviews, since I am a trained journalist, consist of originality every time. I write each interview catered toward the author. I sometimes ask the hard questions. I could get paid for my interviews, and I have, but on my own site they are free to you. Please understand the time involved in writing and posting them. It’s your job as an author to respect my time as well as your own, provide me with good answers, photos to accompany them (often times I spend time searching them out and verifying for use), and to share it along with me. This is the same advice I give my author clients, or any clients in entertainment or even business, when working with other sites or the media.

MY WRITING

And all of this talk of time does even mention the fact that I’ve made goals for myself of actually carving out more time for my own writing. Last year saw my own first collection published, a dark poetry and fiction mix called BREATHE. BREATHE. by Unnerving, as well as work in two more anthologies, HARDENED HEARTS from Unnerving and MY FAVORITE STORY from Project Entertainment Network, in which authors and podcasts hosts featured their favorite story. Proud to say I am in this with authors like Brian Keene, Christopher Golden, Jonathan Maberry, Mary SanGiovanni, and more. This year, I already have two secret projects going and I’m writing and submitting more this year as well. I need to be creative too, just like you do.

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So, now that I’ve cleared the air, I hope that my site continues to offer the best it can, as well as our business Hook of a Book Media, in which we offer editing, writing mentorship, publicity services, and more. Tim is now also offering editing services. I’m often booked, so please consider him if you’re looking for editing services as well. You can find information on that under our services tab. We offer respect and professionalism and support those who bring their best selves as well.

WANT TO BE FEATURED?

I am always open for guest article submissions, either articles you’ve written or interviews you’d like to do with others as a feature on my site. As well, I’m always available to try to fit in writing a guest article for your site too or to be interviewed. For book reviews, we are always open to receiving e-mails about new titles you’d like us to consider. I do not do formal reviews of clients book or book from publishers I directly work with on my blog or other online sites, for ethical reasons.

YOU CAN BE INVOLVED HERE

Upcoming projects of note for the site: we will doing volunteer campaigns for Women in Horror Month, Women in History, and National Poetry Month! You can check each individual page on this site for the calls and more information ongoing.

Thanks for a great seven years so far, and really looking forward to a wonderful 2018 in the book world. My best advice to everyone: JUST BREATHE. HAVE PATIENCE. IT WILL BE OKAY! 🙂

If you follow me here, THANK YOU!!

-Erin

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Filed under Book Reviews, Book Services, Breathe Breathe, Editing, Feature Articles, Guest Posts, My Writing, Q and A with Authors, women in history

Featured Guest Article – The Witch of Vienna by Cat Cavendish

On the site today, I’d like to welcome back the amazing author Catherine Cavendish. She just happens to be one of my favorite Gothic and horror writers with whom I share a love of history and legend. It’s always a real treat for me when she releases a new book, as not only do I want to devour it, but also I get to host these wonderful articles that I hope historical and Gothic/horror readers will both enjoy. She’s just released a new book with Lyrical Undergroud (Kensington) called Wrath of the Ancients (Oct. 24) and you won’t want to miss this one. Perfect for a Halloween read. Enjoy reading about the life and trial of The Witch of Vienna….I’ll be back with a review of this book soon!

Elisabeth Plainacher – The Witch of Vienna

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My latest book – Wrath of the Ancients – centres largely on sinister and ghostly activities within a magnificent haunted house in Vienna, Austria’s elegant and fascinating capital.

Vienna is the sort of city where ghosts walk by your side at night through quaint, winding streets in the old part of the city. Music forms the breath of the city and you can almost hear the haunting strains of The Blue Danube as you wonder at the grandeur of its many palaces.

But this isn’t by any means the whole story. In fact, you could travel a vast distance to find a more quirky, original and enigmatic city – but one with its own dark past.

Compared with many parts of Europe, Vienna’s history of witchcraft is relatively bloodless. Only one recorded execution of a convicted witch compared with hundreds in, say, Scotland.

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Her name is variously given as Elisabeth, Elise or Elsa Plainacher and toward the end of the 16th century, she was living in Lower Austria where she had married and given birth to a daughter, Margaret. The girl grew up, married and bore four children of her own but, sadly, she died and Elisabeth took it upon herself to raise the children while Margaret’s husband went his own way.

More tragedy abounded when one after the other three of the children died. Elisabeth was a practising Lutheran and took her remaining granddaughter, Mary, to church every Sunday.

Mary grew into a teenager and developed epilepsy which was then seen as a devil’s curse. She was subject to Grand Mal seizures, and tongues began wagging. Meanwhile Margaret’s widower came back on the scene. He was a Catholic and started pointing the finger at Elisabeth, accusing her of practising witchcraft, casting spells on his sick daughter. Furthermore, he accused her of killing his three other children and murdering her own husband.

The case came to the attention of a fervent Jesuit priest – Georg Scherer – whose lifelong mission was to rid the world of witches. He examined the girl and performed a series of exorcisms, claiming to have released 12,652 demons from her body.

Scherer and his fellow priests pressured Mary to say that her grandmother kept demons in bottles in the form of flies and that she had used these to bewitch the girl. Finally, Mary broke down and said that Elisabeth had indeed bewitched her by giving her an apple infected by the devil. She had eaten it and had become possessed.

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The bishop of Vienna, Kaspar Neubeck, arrested Elisabeth and tortured and questioned her until she too broke down and agreed that she had indeed fed her granddaughter the poisoned apple. Quite which forms of torture were used to extract such a bizarre confession are unrecorded but it doesn’t take too much imagination to conclude that she must have been under unbearable strain.

Having confessed to witchcraft, she was tied to a horse and dragged through the streets of Vienna to Richgasse. There she was bound to a stake and burned to death. The year was 1583 and she was 70 years old. Here in Vienna, at least, there were many who did not agree with the severity or nature of the punishment. Indeed, the mayor of Vienna found the woman’s confession so improbable that he appealed to the Emperor, Rudolf II to overturn it. But Georg Scherer remained steadfast and applied ecclesiastical pressure on the Emperor who, also being Holy Roman Emperor, found himself in an impossible situation. The mayor’s petition was denied. Scherer later preached a lengthy sermon urging the need for vigilance against the ever-present threat of witchcraft in all its many forms.

As for Elisabeth, she did at least have a couple of streets named after her – one in Vienna and the other in her home town of Mank.

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Wrath of the Ancients, Synopsis –

Destiny In Death

Egypt, 1908

Eminent archaeologist Dr. Emeryk Quintillus has unearthed the burial chamber of Cleopatra. But this tomb raider’s obsession with the Queen of the Nile has nothing to do with preserving history. Stealing sacred and priceless relics, he murders his expedition crew, and flees—escaping the quake that swallows the site beneath the desert sands . . .

Vienna, 1913

Young widow Adeline Ogilvy has accepted employment at the mansion of Dr. Quintillus, transcribing the late professor’s memoirs. Within the pages of his journals, she discovers the ravings of a madman convinced he possessed the ability to reincarnate Cleopatra. Within the walls of his home, she is assailed by unexplained phenomena: strange sounds, shadowy figures, and apparitions of hieroglyphics.

Something pursued Dr. Quintillus from Egypt. Something dark, something hungry. Something tied to the fate and future of Adeline Ogilvy . . .

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Catherine Cavendish, Biography –

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Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Catherine Cavendish is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories. She was the joint winner of the Samhain Gothic Horror Anthology Competition, with Linden Manor. Cat’s novels include the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy – Wrath of the Ancients, Waking the Ancients and Damned by the Ancients, plus The Devil’s Serenade, The Pendle CurseSaving Grace Devine and many more. She lives with her long-suffering husband, and a black cat who has never forgotten that her species used to be worshiped in ancient Egypt. She sees no reason why that practice should not continue. Cat and her family divide their time between Liverpool and a 260-year-old haunted apartment in North Wales.

You can connect with Cat here:

Catherine Cavendish

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 Thank for sharing this with us, Cat!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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