Welcome, Carol Shenold...being thankful

                Hi Ginger and thanks for having me visit your wonderful blog.  For those who don’t know me, I’m Carol Shenold and I write urban fantasy, paranormal mystery and now, medical romance. I’ve been a nurse for over forty years and a writer for over twenty.

                This time of year we give thanks for everything. We pay attention to nature, family, food, everything in our lives. And I’m thankful. I have a warm house, good food, family to rely on—even if they feud with each other, fight their own demons, and are just as overwhelmed with life as everyone else.

                But I have to admit, I am overwhelmingly grateful for words, the words that allow me to make them my profession. Reading has been my pleasure all my life, from the times I got into trouble in grade school for reading during class, to nursing school when the nuns were shocked that I carried fiction with me to now, when my Kindle goes everywhere with me.

                Writing for publication has been going on for the last twenty years, success with fiction, much shorter number of years. Success is relative of course. I am now published in fiction, both e-pubbed and print and  I’d love to make money with fiction, not just nonfiction. What can I say, I’m greedy. But again, on the thankful side, I’m so thankful that Harlequin is interested in my Medical Romance. Plus, that could lead to money, my first advance.

                Okay, I’ll stop counting chickens. In the mean time, how about an excerpt from Fairy Dust, just for fun? This book is all about fairies, elves and a were-wolf confronting an evil wizard.

Fairy Dust

By Carol Shenold

I hovered three feet from the ceiling in the Herb and Fairy Gardens Shop, praying no customers came in while I calmed down my fairy dust emissions and my temper.

“Bouddicca Andraste Ryan, get your fairy ass off the ceiling and come help me. I’m dying here.”

Seirye, a six-foot elf with white hair, and half owner of the shop, yelled at me. I went up higher. She had no patience with my iffy hold on my magic, especially since we had an order from a coven for 16 flower wreaths, probably for a moon dance. They were due to pick up the wreaths by four and it was already after two. It’s not my fault that I’m only half Fae and not in total control of my magic.

I was named for a great warrior queen and a godess. I felt like neither as I grabbed for my flying waist length hair with both hands, avoiding the ceiling fan.

“You hold your skinny little horses there. I’m doing the best I can. What did you expect? Tell me a team of Darklings (Turned Fairies) from the Under is on it’s way to snatch the Titania Amulet from me and expect me to hold my temper?  Not going to happen.  It's the only thing my father left me, my only tie to the Fae World.  And it's the focus that lets me use earth magic so well." Titania Amulet from me and expect me to hold my temper? Not going to happen. It’s the only thing my father left me, my only tie to the Fae World. And it’s the focus that lets me use earth magic so well.”

Seirye’s laugh, a short bark, held no humor. “He didn’t leave it to you, he just left it because he was in a hurry to avoid responsibility.”

I plummeted to the ground. “Ow. You don’t have to get nasty about it or diss my father.”

She turned on her heel, talking over her shoulder. “It was the only way I knew to get you down before you were caught and we have work to do.”

Elves can be so pissy. I stomped after her, making certain the front door wards were in place as I passed by. They would let people in but any magical creatures would have to leave their powers behind.

Rampaging Darklings were the last thing I needed. I had an assignment this afternoon with the Paranormal Investigative Unit (PIU), to pick up an errant witch and a date that night, my first in forever.

You can follow Carol on her website.

For Some, It's always Halloween

Some authors have the knack of infusing hair-raising scenes into their writing...especially my guest today, Carol Shenold. If you haven't enjoyed the escapades of Tali Cates, then here's a couple of excerpts to show you how exciting mystery can be:


In this scene from “Bloody Murder” Tali Cates visits the funeral home to see if her gift of “sight” will allow her to see Marcia’s murderer:

I stopped. “Wait. Can you show me where Marcia is? I never got to really say goodbye, and I don’t want to intrude on the family time.”

Tara hesitated. “I guess it would be all right. No one is here right now, except for me. We don’t usually let visitors go into the preparation room but let me see… wait, she’s in a closed casket, so you should be able to go in. No problem.”

We turned around to go the opposite way, stopped halfway down the center hall,and entered a plain, no-frills room with several caskets lined up in a row.

I shivered and Tara patted me on the shoulder, obviously assuming I was grieving. She murmured comforting sounds and left me alone in the room. Guilt coursed through me that I’d fooled a nice kid who was trying to be kind. Another rumble shook the room. I knew, deep in my soul, that a casket lid would open and a thing would sit up, climb out, and come after me.

I couldn’t stand there and watch the coffins for movement. I needed to open this one and touch Marcia in case I could sense anything that would help us catch whoever caused her death. I took a deep breath, reached for the lid, and opened it. I kept my eyes on the end of the casket to avoid seeing her face again.

No one had changed her clothes so she was still in her jeans. I guessed, since she Would be in a closed casket, they must have re-dressed her in the same clothes after the autopsy. I reached for the hem of her jeans, expecting another clap of thunder. Instead, the room became quieter, hushed.

I touched the denim and saw—nothing. Dark slammed into me, pushed at me. Red tinged the edges. Emotions flew through my mind—envy, fear, desire. Black emotions threatened to take over and I jerked back.

I saw no concrete images, only colors, feelings, and strong evil. After slamming closed the casket, I ran out of the room and down the hall, ran into a dead end. Wrong way—dark hall—panic—shouldn’t have come.


In another scene from “Bloody Murder” Tali and her friend Cherilyn take shelter from a storm, only to face a worse storm on the inside:


Cherilyn stood right beside me. “Look at those clouds. They’re turning in circles.”

“Shit, shit, shit. We’re going to have a tornado, and it’s not much after noon. They’re not supposed to hit until afternoon or evening.”
“Tell that to those clouds overhead.”

I scanned the kitchen and saw a door on the opposite side from the one outside.

“Quick, in here.”

“If it’s a cellar, I’m not going to be trapped inside a death trap.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby. It’s just a pantry but it should protect us.”

She pulled back. “But it’s dark and old and there’s no telling how many critters are in there. Besides, how do you know it’s a pantry?”

I shrugged and pulled open the door, then looked around for light. In the middle of the pentagram on the floor stood a large candle. Plucking that from its resting place might not be good but it was better than being in the dark. I grabbed it, attempting to ignore the energy washing through me.

We barreled through the pantry door and closed it. Now we were in the pitch dark with an unlit candle.

“It’s noon in October, not late afternoon in May,” I shouted. “We shouldn’t be having this strong a thunderstorm.”

“Did you tell that to the weather gods? I don’t think they’re playing by the rules,”

Cherilyn yelled back. “How about some light?”

“Do you have a lighter or something?” An abrupt flare of light blinded me as the wick of the candle I held burst into flame. I barely managed to hold onto the wax when I jumped. Thank God I’d dropped the sack of grass at the last thunderclap or I’d have a
bag of flame.

“Okay. That was just plain weird. I know you have some gifts, but lighting things with your mind?”

“It wasn’t me. Not on purpose.”

Shelves held the usual things for an abandoned house—dust, cobwebs, more dust, spiders, a discarded, dented can of corn. The hail, wind, and rain had stopped, or else we simply couldn’t hear them, which made no sense. Was this the eye of the storm? I didn’t remember that tornadoes had an eye; they came and went so fast.

The pantry was enormous, as were Cherilyn’s eyes. She wasn’t looking at me, but above my head somewhere.

“What? What’s wrong?”

She pointed to the wall behind me. “Look.”

I turned. Symbols covered the wall. Most pantries had shelves on at least three walls but this one was as large as a living room, and one wall was covered with hundreds of drawings crammed together, one on top of each other. They glowed with a light of their own—or took the light from the candle. I moved closer to try to identify the drawings but an immediate chill shot through me.
My hands shook, my entire body trembled, sending the candle flame jumping like a demented firefly, throwing shadows in odd shapes all over the wall. I swore the shadows moved on their own. More than anything in the world, I didn’t want to see the things that made those shadows. Fear also moved on its own, pushed into me, froze my
blood, stopping all movement, including my heart. Unreasonable fear that made me want to claw my way out of the room took over.

To see more about this amazing author's work and Tali's series, visit Carol's website.

Woo Hoo!

Tomorrow, while I take time off and cry all day because I'm turning 63 (sort of sticks in my throat to even type it), I'm throwing open the doors and welcoming some of my Eternal Press friends.

Since NaNoWriMo is going on, many are busy, trying to meet the required 50,000 words in a month, so I lucked out and snagged a few who aren't. Please come and help me welcome:

Jannine Corti Petska
Clare London
Carol Shenold
Cornelia Amiri
Rhonda Parrish
Rita Karnopp
Janet Elizabeth Jones

This is a wonderful chance to get to know some new authors, read some exciting excerpts, and console me. *lol* I'm only kidding. It's painful to have to admit to being this old, but I'm thankful for every day I can be here to share with you via my posts. Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who stick around and continue to read my blog and support my work. That's more than anyone could wish for on any birthday.

Tag, Your it!

I was tagged by Anita Davison, so I stole her tag image to use on my blog. I know she won't mind because she probably stole it from someone else. :)

I guess the purpose of this lovely game is to garner interest in my blog and those of my friends. I'm supposed to tell you six exciting things about myself and refer you to six other blogs. The blogs I can do, but I don't know if there are six interesting things to share about myself. I guess I can try.

1. I hate spiders and bugs that jump. I'm afraid to walk across the floor at night because Tennessee seems to have lots of night crawlers despite my continued efforts to poison them all. I have been known to lay in bed with a full and aching bladder because I don't want to risk walking to the bathroom. Don't get me wrong...our house isn't laden with bugs, but you know, there's always the chance.

2. I was a school bus driver once in another life. On my maiden voyage, I was sent to pick up some children who missed their usual bus. When I got to the school, I couldn't find them. I left the bus and went into the office to call my supervisor to ask what I should do. While I was on the phone, I saw my bus roll past the window. EEEK!!!

3. I met my current husband at a single's dance. He came there to meet up with someone else. He joined a dating service and paid a whole lot of money to be ignored by the woman who ran the dance. He was on his way out the door when I noticed him and approached him about a dance. He could have had me for free! Well, I guess he did, although I refused to spend the night with him. I have morals. I made him wait until the second date for a sleep over and that's because he refused to leave. He acted like came to my house on a wagon train instead of in a car.

4. Embezzled Love is really a fairly accurate accounting of what happened to my sister when she hooked up with a guy she met on the internet. I wrote it for entertainment, but mainly to warn people what can happen if you are too trusting.

5. People are so paranoid about their social security numbers. Did you know that if you look on the social security death registry, you'll find the names of most deceased people along with their social security numbers? And we wonder why some dead people are still voting. Duh uh!

6. Okay, one more bus driving revelation. One morning, when my bus was being serviced, I gassed up the best of the sub buses and had it ready to go. When someone came in and asked who was driving it, I announced "Me." I was shocked when they told me it just left the yard. Boy, was I pissed. I ran out the door to discover who took my bus, only to see my supervisor running after it with arms flailing. Luckily old number eight made a perfect left-turn, thus avoiding six driver's ed cars, and passed with ease through the exit gate. This time I set the emergency brake, but I forgot to take it out of drive (the only automatic in the yard) and once it warmed up, it overrode the break and decided to leave without me. Do you see a pattern here? Fortunately, after bumping over the plowed furrows of the field across from the transportation yard, the bus finally stopped. Boy, my supervisor must have really liked me. :)

Okay, here are my six friends:
Tabitha Shay because she's an awesome friend and author. She has a whole series of Witch books and a series on Montana Men. Treat yourself to a peek.

Sloane Taylor . Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell. Check out Sloane's Naughty Ladies series.

Anne Whitfield Check out this award winning author of historical and contemporary fiction. You'll love her work.

Carol Shenold . Carol writes wonderful mystery with humor. My kind of gal!

Rita Karnopp . Rita is a wonderful author and a dear friend from Eternal Press. Check out her wonderful romance, Sacred Ground. You're in for a treat.

Cheryl St. John . If you're looking a great blog, a talented author, and someone with a great sense of humor, then check out Cheryl St. John. I'm very proud to call her my friend...even if she keeps denying she knows me. *smile*

So, now I've shared my deepest secrets and notified these lucky six people that they've been tagged. I did my duty, Anita! Aren't you proud of me?