Christmas and Fashion

First, the Tali Cates contest is over. The winners will be announced this weekend.

Now, for a most important discussion.

What Christmas item is it that:

Anyone under 30 laughs at.
Most women over 40 love to wear.
Teachers have one for every day.
And fashion gurus hate?

Yes. You are right. It's time for the dreaded Christmas sweater.
I have several, dragged them out yesterday. Wore one. Will wear one every day because I only have a month. Then, back in storage they go until next year.

Come on, confess, you secretly like them too. You have one. What is it like? Is it a vest, or cardigan you can ditch in a hurry or an all out pull-over. Tell all in the comment section. Its true confession time.

Christmas sweater wearers unite!

Excerpt -New Bloody Murder

Now, Tali Cates and her best friend, Cherilyn have gone to the old Rayburn house and been driven inside because of storm. The storm isn’t the only scary thing in the old house. Remember to read Privy to Murder then the wait to snap up Bloody Murder on the 7^th won’t seem nearly so long.

Excerpt 3 Bloody Murder Book 2 in the Tali Cates mystery series.

“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 tornados 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.

Today I'm blogging at http://mystic-times.blogspot.com. At this blog, Diana Rubino, Ginger Simpson and I share postings on different dates. So come on down, meet a variety of authors and keep us company.

New Excerpt from Bloody Murder

How about another excerpt. Watch for a question.

Screams shrilled from the dressing room area, not the carnival. What else could go wrong with this damned county fair contest I was in charge of? I shivered, and it wasn’t from the cooler evening air. What now? I ran toward the dressing room, reaching the door in time to be trampled by Theresa, who was shrieking and carrying her daughter, Charlice.

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. My baby, my poor baby.” She finally took a breath and sat down on the ground. “It’s dead, it has to be. I don’t know what it is.” Theresa was one of the pageant contestant mothers. From the way she was reacting you’d think her child was dead, not struggling against her mother’s tight grip.

I picked myself up from the cement stage, ignoring my scraped knee. Charlice buried her head in her mother’s neck.

I went into the empty dressing room that Theresa had just opened. She had been anxious that her daughter wouldn’t have enough mirror space to get ready for the talent competition.

Marcia Baker lay on the floor, or at least someone in Marcia’s clothes. The body looked like a mummy, not Marcia. It was as if something had removed all moisture from her. All I could think of was poor Marcia, poor Kimmie, who was one of the Queen Contest competitors. She would be without a mother.

I couldn’t catch my breath. My heart stuttered. I staggered out of the room, touching nothing. My cell phone rang. I fumbled it out of my jeans, swallowing several times before I could talk. It was Mumsie, my mother.

“What’s going on, Tali? Chung Po is beside himself. He says he can’t see anything but darkness.”

“Tell your stupid spirit guide to go into the light. Get off the phone and call JT. I have a dead body here in the dressing room.”

“Another one?”

“Just go call.” I hung up and threw myself behind a hay bale to be sick. It was déjà vu all over again.

Bloody Murder Excerpt

"This Azo can simply show up from some other dimension and haul me off to hell to be his slave forever and there's nothing I can do?"

Okay, that came out more high pitched and panicky than I'd planned.

"It's why I'm here, Tali. To protect you, show you how to find and tap into power you can use to protect yourself."

"Well, shit. It was bad enough when I realized everything from vampires to werewolves were real. And now you're telling me I have to learn to use the essence of magic power to protect myself from the unseen things I thought were superstition? That's got to be the biggest pile of crap I've ever heard."

Fun Weekend

I've had a great weekend.

Friday I went out to dinner with my daughter from Houston, love Chinese food.
Saturday, lunch with writer friends, gossip for three hours, or was it four. Also love a Leaning Bellini and Shrimp Portofino.
Made a big pot of Chili Saturday night, had the rest of the kids over and discovered chocolate wine-too good.
Had lunch today with my 88-year-old mother-in-law. discovered the most wonderful cake ever invented at Maggies, on 39th Expressway, Bethany, OK.
Okay, so this weekend revolved around food and drink. But it was fun.

So you don't think the weekend was a total loss, I almost finished chapter 13 of Dead Fairies, and have to figure out exactly who it is that Ande likes, Brandon or the new character trying to sneak in. Hmmm.

Also, I had an interview with Kim Smith on Blog Talk Radio on "Introducing Writers." That was fun. And in the interest of promotion, don't forget that all the Tali Cates books are at www.eternalpres.ca, or in print from www.amazon.com. If you need multiple e-formats, try www.fictionwise.com. You can catch the interview on Blog Talk in a couple of days. I'll put out an announcement.

I'm putting on a contest, see my website and visit my blog for a chance to win bookmarks, postcards, a Bloody Murder T-shirt, an autographed copy of a Tali Cates book and more. Stay tuned.

Chat with Carol Shenold

Chat with Carol Shenold



Come on down and chat with me at blogtalkradio.