Rips in the Weave - According to Swampy

1897. That was a long dang time ago, back before me and Agatha decided to get hitched. Matter of fact, before I ever met the mother of all gators.

I knew Nymeria though. That nymph caused me nothin' but trouble, tryin' to get that new nymph Misha to see me nekkid. Bad enough seein' the two of them nekkid standin' there on my porch.

'Sides, apart from runnin' with Nymeria, Misha seemed like a nice sort. She liked my pigs and Boo and that's what matters.

I knows Agatha tole' you 'bout the happ'nins with Khrou-ach, but there's more to Rips in the Weave than just that old god war stuff. My friend Sassafras Cats has big problem with that sister of hers, Delilah. I never much liked Delilah. Grammy always tole me that clothes don't make a girl, it's what underneath the skin and Delilah's got nuttin' but pride underneath all them bustles and silks.

If you don't believe me, you can read it for yourself and you don't even have to pay a dime. You can get Rips in the Weave as a free ebook. You can download it for any ebook format from Smashwords. It is also available free on iTunes, Nook  and Kobo.

Sunday Scramble - From the Gator's Mouth

Happy Sunday (albeit a bit late in the day). Sorry...the sun is out and I had things to take care of this morning. I have a feeling something strange is going to be taking place soon. Hanover's been on edge for over a week -- something to do with Regan and some silly monkey. I guess we'll know soon enough. Until then it's just business as usual.




Here's the solution to last week's scramble:

A whorl of white and silver fell across her forehead and she let it hang there. “Yes, but no. We could give his soul a fairy body, or even a goblin’s, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. He’s lived a mortal life. I think he’d miss it."

irfay - fairy
sulo -soul
rlmtao  - mortal
horwl  - whorl
erilvs  -silver
dorehefa - forehead

This week's scramble is a quote from From the Gator's Mouth, the book that tells the story of how Hanover Fist was born.

She ____________ his eyes widen as his __________ moved back away from him. “Now __________, it is not nice to __________ with your __________,” Agatha __________ softly.


abto
glegigd 
ildcenhr
odfo
lypa 
chwedat 

Solve the scramble by filling out the form and receive a coupon for From the Gator's Mouth. Any ebook format is available.

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Sunday Scramble - The Desert Rose + All Things Irish Blog Hop

Welcome to the Sunday Scramble! This week, we're happy to be part of the Leaping Leprechauns and Frolicking Fairies: All Things Irish blog tour. Thank you to Candace's Book Blog and Gin's Book Notes for hosting this blog hop.

Last week's scramble was from High Rollers, which is on sale for $1.99 until midnight tonight Mountain Time. Here's the solution:

As Regan stepped into the casino, the first thing she saw was her own reflection smiling from jagged mirror shards arranged haphazardly to look like stalactites. 

ardhazlyhap - haphazardly
niligsm - smiling
romirr - mirror
lacstaestit - stalactites
sincao - casino

This week's scramble is from The Desert Rose, the sequel to Rips in the Weave. Hint: You can get a still get a free copy of Rips in the Weave by visiting Toledo's post below and filling out the form.

In keeping with the theme of the blog hop, this quote is about fairies. That's a hint.


A __________ of white and __________ fell across her __________ and she let it hang there. “Yes, but no. We could give his __________ a __________ body, or even a goblin’s, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. He’s lived a ____________ life. I think he’d miss it."

irfay 
sulo 
rlmtao 
horwl 
erilvs 
dorehefa 

Good luck!

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Toledo Talks - A Fairy Garden

Toledo Cats

This week, in honor of springtime, I decided to talk about gardening. I've been gardening since I was a little girl. My first garden was a fairy garden. It was mostly a rock garden beneath Mama's magnolia tree. I'd sing to my dolls and every so often a fairy or two would stop by to listen. Whiskey Joe suggested I grow heather, and so I did. I planted purple heather the first year. When it's blooms reached toward the sky, Whiskey Joe taught me how to step through so I could visit the fairies myself.

Heather photo (Courtesy of Better Homes and Gardens)

I later added other colors to the mix. The fairies liked to visit the heather too. For years, I visited the fairies and they visited me. I didn't realize until I was older that they could be treacherous -- that they could steal the souls of infants.

I learned a lot about them later, both good and bad. I learned that like people, they were capable of hatred, greed, and love. At the time Whiskey Joe taught me how to pass through the heather, I had no idea he was a fairy himself. It was only after I thought he had died that I found him in the fairy realm, making music just like he had on the New Orleans streets. That story appears in Mind of a Mad Man.

Later Whiskey Joe told me the real story. How he'd fallen in love and decided it was time to go back to the realm where he belonged. He wrote a song about the day he met the woman he loved. He's agreed to sing it to us.

I am celebrating spring this week by participating in the Leaping Leprechaun blog hop and planting some potatoes and onions -- maybe a few other things, depending on the weather. Are you planning to do some gardening?  Have you ever planted a fairy garden?

Leave a comment with your email and I'll send you a coupon for a free copy of Rips in the Weave -- the story where all the trouble in the realms began. There are a few fairies in Rips in the Weave, but there are definitely goblins.

And don't forget, High Rollers is on sale for $1.99 through Saturday March 23rd. Get your copy today if you haven't. 

Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy the blog hop.

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Never Disturb a Fairy Ring

Duncan O'Malley

Thanks to my best friend's daughter, Regan Worth, I'm here this St. Paddy's Day to share a warning with you all about the dangers of fairy rings. I felt it only right to pass on the warning I gave my daughter...the same warning my mother gave me, albeit most likely too late. Now some will tell you that a fairy ring is just a fungus that ruins the lawn. Gardening folk will tell you to dig them up and destroy the ring. I will tell you different. Leave them be.

It was a spring day and I was still a lad, living on my parents' farm in Ireland. I was a light-hearted boy and I loved to explore the bog. That's where I saw my first dead body, but that's a story for another day. The day I learned of fairy rings was a rare sunny one. I followed my mother  down to the bog when she went to fetch the butter. I was a wee lad, maybe three or four.

I skipped along beside her, singing:

O-ro the rattlin' bog, 
The bog down in the valley-o
O-ro the rattlin' bog, 
The bog down in the valley-o

I was young enough that I couldn't remember the order of all the things you see -- tree, limb, branch, twig, nest, egg, bird, feather, flea -- so Mum sang along with me. We were on the verse about the bird in the egg when she stopped singing.

"Don't you do that, son."

"What, Mum?" I asked. I saw she'd grown pale and was staring at the ground.

"See those mushrooms?"

"Sure I do. Can we pick some?" I loved mushrooms, even then.

"Not those mushrooms. Those belong to the fairies. If you disturb them, they'll come after you."

I stared at the nearly perfect circle of mushrooms -- perfect except for where I'd kicked one away. It lay there broken and sad. "Do you think they saw me?" I asked.

"Let's hope not." Her voice was stern. She took me by the hand and led me to the bog. "Let's tiptoe the rest of the way so we don't wake them."

And so we did. It might have been that night the nightmares started...or sometime soon after. They have never left me, only changed as time went on. I was still a mostly carefree lad and I never saw a fairy in the bog, but I have to wonder sometimes if they didn't see me kick that mushroom. How else can I account for the bad luck I've had and the things I've seen?  Not that it was all bad. I wouldn't trade my luck in finding Maggie Bloom for all the pots of gold in the universe.

To celebrate St. Patrick's Day, my daughter Mary has asked me to give away copies of Angels in Hell's Kitchen, the story about the first day I met Mary's mum. All you need to do is fill out the form.

I also need to tell you that High Rollers is only 99 cents today through Wednesday. That's a 66% discount from its regular $2.99. By the time High Rollers happened, I had gone on from the physical realm, but I think you'll like the story anyway. Many of the people I loved through life are in it.

Well, I guess I'm off. Thank you Regan for helping me tell my story. I hope a lot of people buy your story this week. It's a great price for a fun tale. Of course, I wish I had been there to help solve the crime, but a ghost can't be everywhere.

Enjoy the rest of the blog hop.I'm sure you will -- It's All Things Irish, so who wouldn't?

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Sunday Scramble

Mary O'Malley

The answer to last week's Scramble is:

The dragon lashed his white lightning tail and chuckled, low and sinister. “You’ve lost your sister. Delilah calls to me.”

ledliha = Delilah
lggithnni = lightning
gadnor = dragon
stinsresi = sinister
duckchle = chuckled

Unfortunately, there were no winners. Maybe I AM making these too hard. Sorry.

We'll try it again. This week's scramble is from Angels in Hell's Kitchen. The first person to solve it by adding the correct answer to a comment wins a FREE ebook copy of Angels in Hell's Kitchen. This time I'm using a quote from my Daddy.

"Okay, Mark, now in ___________ you can hit anywhere above the  line, but not ________. You get marks taken off for a _________ below the belt. And never hit the family ___________ ."

Scrambled words
xigbon
elsjwe
lbet
owble
ith

Good luck!  I really hope someone wins this week. It's a fun story about how my Mom and Dad met.

****

Before I go, I want to let you in on a deal. It's Read-an-Ebook week at Smashwords. These books in the Dime Store Novel series are included in the promotion. 

Books you can get for FREE (enter RW100 at checkout)

Rips in the Weave

From the Gator's Mouth

Books you can get for 50% off (enter REW50 at checkout)

The Desert Rose

Angels in Hell's Kitchen

Mind of a Mad Man

The promotion only lasts through March 8th. I hope you snatch yours up while the promotion lasts and let me know what you think. 

Sunday Scramble

I'm Mary O'Malley. I know it's been a long time since I've blogged, so I figured I'd better introduce myself again. I've decided to start something new. You see, I'm a language buff and I have been since I was a kid.

I loved Sunday mornings. Dad would read the funnies and I'd work out the puzzles. Crossword puzzles, word scrambles, find-the-word. Anything that had to do with letters, I snagged it.

So I thought it would be fun to start my own Sunday Scramble. Every Sunday I'm going to post a quote from one of our books. Some of the words will be missing. I'll give you the letters that spell the words and all you need to do is unscramble them and fill in the blanks. I'll give a scrambled version of each word below, but the words won't be in the same order they appear in the quote.

Sound easy?  I hope it won't be too easy.  I always liked a challenge. But remember, I'm knew at this puzzle creation. I'm more a puzzle solver in the books. So make sure to let me know if it's too easy or too hard.

Oh, the best part is...the first person who solves the puzzle gets an ebook copy of the book the quote is from. Ready?

This week's quote is from The Reunion.

__________ looked into her mama’s eyes, expecting to see only the __________   __________ her mama used to hide her true feelings. Instead, she saw __________ of sand rise up and transform into a  __________   __________ at the moon. The howl __________ with loneliness, pain, and __________ . 

Scrambled Words
teslapirc
doolet 
gyabni
nnraeyig
snoareted
klcao
kadr
yoocte

Friday the 13th - Lucky or Not?

Hanover Fist

Some people call Friday the 13th unlucky. Others call it lucky. I think it's just the roll of the dice like any other day. And for me dice are lucky -- except when they come up snake-eyes, which they never do. Well...almost never...but that's a story for another day.

Today I want to talk about skill. When you're in a bind, it's skill that'll get you out of it, not luck. For example, consider the time Toledo and I investigated a haunted mansion. We found a guy sitting at the table with his face cut off. He was holding cards -- a dead man's hand. Now some might say the guy had no luck. I say it was lack of skill that cost him his life.

It was a voodoo master that killed the guy. And I killed the voodoo master. Shot him dead with the gun O'Malley left me. Now that was skill. And a little bit of being in the right place at the right time.

Toledo Cats

Hanover, you know very well that you didn't kill that zombie master by yourself. Why if it hadn't been for Voodoo tagging along, you would have found yourself holding the dead man's hand. Rushing into danger...that's what you always do. It's a good thing luck is on your side. It helps compensate for your lack of common sense.
Like the time you went after Jumbl-iya. Fortunately I was on the other side of that gateway and the nymphs were there to help you. Otherwise, it's likely you'd have joined Acongojar in the pain realm.

It was me who saved you, Toledo. Besides, even if the nymphs did help, it was still skill and not luck that defeated Jumbl-iyah. And that's my point. Friday the 13th is what you make it. Caprice has nothing to do with it.

I wouldn't tell Caprice that if I were you. You know, she can make your dice roll snake eyes if she wants to.
 

Mama Cats

Still arguing like children...and after all these years. Why not let the readers decide for themselves who defeated Jumbl-iyah? They can get The Reunion FREE for their Kindle or Kindle reader from now through Monday, 7/16.

Death Seeker - Part 6 #coffinhop

Regan Worth

And now we lay here side by side, our legs entwined, our souls intermingled. He is sleeping and I wonder if he seeks Death in his dreams. I hope not because after what we had together, I'm sure he'll be disappointed. The sky is dark now. A tiny silver crescent hangs on the horizon. A big bug buzzes at my ear. I swat it away, but then it's back again.

"Go away," I whisper.

"Go back," it buzzes in my ear. "Hanover is frantic and Toledo's worried."

I hold up my hand and snatch its wings. I bring it forward and see its orange and yellow patterns. A moth fairy. I let it go and rub my fingers together to get rid of the dust. "Go away. I'm fine."

"Toledo said to tell you there are things out here even more wicked than you. She said you should come back now before they come find you."

"I'm not wicked. I ....how would they come find me? I have the jeep."

"How do you think?" The moth melted into a floating mouth. It opened wide. I peer through jagged teeth into a deep velvety cavern.

"Oh no. There is no way I'm traveling through your realm."

"Then drive the jeep. She says you have until dawn." Orange and yellow wings sprout from the corners of the mouth. It twists back into a fuzzy-headed moth and flies away.

I stare at the sleeping man – a boy really, but who's counting? I don't want to leave without waking him...without knowing his name or where to find him. I kiss his forehead. He doesn't stir. Damn. I would fall for a deep sleeper.

I find a scrap of paper...a receipt from some dress I bought or something. I scribble my name and phone number on it, along with a note that I had fun. What else can I do?

I leave him lying there, his head cradled by dirt. I long to hold it until morning, but I have other longer bonds. I get in the car and turn the key. The engine roars alive. I drive away.

Comment to win a Mind of a Mad Man ebook. Remember to include your email address.

And while you're out trick-or-treating, be sure to visit the other authors on the coffin hop.

Death Seeker - Part 5 #coffinhop

Regan Worth

I see shadows I don't understand in his yellow eyes. "Death? Why would you want to find death?"

"Because of what I am. Unwhole. Misshapen."

I reach forward and touch his stubbly cheek. "You are not misshapen. You are .... handsome ... no, that's not the word ... compelling."

"I am a mutt." The man moves my hand away. "Undeserving of even death."

I try to catch the giggle between my teeth, but it escapes. "I'm a mutt too. My daddy was Irish and my mother Chinese."

He grasps my hand. "That's how you know death. It took your mother."

Stupid tears fill my eyes. One starts to trickle down my cheek. I thought I was done with this. It's been a hundred years since I saw her lying there with a bullet through her heart.

He wipes a tear away...a gentle finger this time, instead of a claw. "I lost mine too. A hunter shot her."

He gathers me close to him and sits me down. We lean together against the rough wall. We smoke the pipe and he tells me stories of extinction. A planned extermination. I remember Hitler from the times I worried about age and wonder if he might be as old as me.

"When you say True Bloods, what do you mean?" I ask.

He strokes my face. "Never mind. It's just old stories."

"Then let's make new ones."

He pulls away. "No new ones. Nothing to pass on my sadness."

I giggle. "Stories, not children. I am far too old to have a child."

He strokes my face. "How old are you, Death?"

I grin. "Much older than I look."

"Good." He takes my face in his hands and kisses me hard. "Then you're experienced."

...to be continued tomorrow.

 Comment to win a free Mind of a Mad Man ebook. Remember to include your email address.

And while you're out trick-or-treating, be sure to visit the other authors on the coffin hop.

Death Seeker - Part 4 #coffinhop

The pale hairs on my arms are standing straight up. I should be afraid, but instead I want to draw him closer, feel his snarling teeth against mine, throw my head back and howl. All these things I want to do, and more.

He leans his face toward my head and sniffs. "You smell like death." His breath is hot next to my ear.

"We've been camping. I haven't had a bath in like a week."

He backs away. I feel relief and regret. Damn it. I repulse him.

His eyes dart back and forth. His own hair stands on end. "Why do you smell like death?"

"I don't know what you mean. I told you I haven't showered. Look, does it matter? I mean, I barely know you. I should be going. Thanks for the smoke." I start to walk to the car.

"Stay." A command more than a request.

" Why should I? No one talks to me like that." And yet I want to.

"Because I need to understand your scent so I can find it."

"Find what?"

"Death."

...to be continued later today

Comment to win a free ebook of Mind of a Mad Man. Don't forget to include your email address.

And while you're out trick-or-treating, be sure to visit the other authors on the coffin hop.

And don't miss our twitter book launch party for The Reunion and books by 2 other authors at 5 PM EDT today for more giveways. Use the #bookchat hashtag to party with us.

Death Seeker - Part 3 #coffinhop

Regan Worth

"Seriously? You're a frog hunter?" Just my stupid luck to run into someone as obsessed as Hanover.

The snarl bursts into a roar, deep and constricted by a throat unaccustomed to laughter. "Why would I hunt a dull thing like frogs?"

"Because they're extinct...well, almost. But then the scientists found some and Hanover thought they might be...um....something other than frogs."

"Two puffs and you're already high? Have you even smoked before?"

"Of course I have. And I'm not high." So I'm lying a little. At least I'm not seeing spirits yet.

Except for me, Princess. Be wary.

I cover my ears. "blablablablablabla."

Cold fingers pry my hands away. This is not an ordinary man. He's.....

I turn my head toward Daddy's breath and stare him down, hoping my anger shows in my eyes. "I told you to go." He disappears, but I figure he's not far off.

"Who are you talking to?"

I turn back to the man and notice he is standing. "Give me another hit."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" He uncloaks his eyes to meet mine. They are golden and ferocious. Not bloodshot like I had expected.

"I'm up for anything." 

He touches my throat with his index finger. His fingernail is longer than mine, filed in the dragon-lady style my mother wore. "Anything?"

to be continued...

 Comment to win a free Mind of a Mad Man ebook. Make sure to include your email address.

And while you're out trick-or-treating, be sure to visit the other authors on the coffin hop.

Death Seeker - Part 2 #coffinhop

Regan Worth

Definitely a man. Maybe even good-looking under all that grime. Hell, what've I got to lose? Besides, his accent's cute. British? "My name's not Ridinghood, it's Regan. It might be Halloween, but I'm not exactly wearing a costume."

He turns around. "I call you all Ridinghood." His eyes are cloaked by heavy lids. His voice is rough.

"Whatever. Can I have a drag or not?"

He offers the pipe and shrugs. "No fur off my back."

I inhale the smoke deep down into my lungs, savoring its reminiscent burn. "Nice flavor. Where I come from, we say No skin off my teeth."

"And do your kind have skin on their teeth? No wonder you can't stop flapping your gums."

I look him over. Yes, definitely good looking, even if a little rude. "So why'd you come here...to the middle of nothing, I mean."

"To be away from your kind."

"Bad relationship, huh?" Just my luck. I find a good-looking man in the middle of nowhere and he's soured on women.

"Can I have my pipe back?"

"Oh, sure." I take another quick hit and hand him the pipe. "What's your name?"

"Why do you care?"

"I don't. I'm just curious...making smalltalk."

"Don't." He takes another drag.

"Well, what do you want to talk about then?"

His lips roll up like a dog snarling. "Extinction."

....to be continued tomorrow

Comment to win a free ebook of Mind of a Mad Man. This is not a game of chance. Everyone who comments wins an ebook. Make sure to include your email address.  

And while you're out trick-or-treating, be sure to visit the other authors on the coffin hop.

Make sure to visit my friend K.F. Kirwin to learn about haunted spots in Tuscon, AZ.

Death Seeker - Part 1 #coffinhop

Regan Worth

Stupid frogs. Stupid hot, wet India. Not that New Orleans is cool or dry, but at least there's something to do there, especially on Halloween. What I wouldn't give for a glass of...well...anything. I'd even settle for one of those skunky beers they serve at that pub in that last town we passed.

Sure Hanover'll be pissed that I took the jeep, but what else could I do? I can't exactly walk to town, can I? Besides, he's almost out of smokes too and probably won't even notice until his hand comes out of his pocket empty. Silly Hanover and then he'd be bumming one off me and griping about the menthol.

*sniff sniff* Can that be what I think it is? No way, no how, not here in the desolate frogland. Probably some nasty native plant that impersonates the glorious scent of dragon smoke. No, wait. I see smoke. A small and delicate tendril over near that hovel. I'll just stop the car and go investigate.

Poppy smoke, my nose is sure. I mean, it's been a long time, but there are some things you don't forget. The taste...the sweet burn at the back of my throat....the shimmer in the air....so yummy. I'll just follow the scent. Heh heh...Hanover says I can't track. If something's worth tracking, I can track it.

Stupid rocks. Damn heels. Sure, Mary would say "I told you so." She always says, "I told you so." But I look short without heels...and short legs are NOT attractive. Besides, you never know when some suave guy with an opium pipe will pop up in the netherlands.

Ummm.....so not attractive, even derelict. I'm not even sure that shape is a guy. It could be an old woman huddled there under furs in the dead moist heat. I should walk away. 

Yes you should, princess.

 

"Quiet, Daddy. I'm old enough to make my own choice. Been old enough for longer than you walked this realm. Besides, it's not like anything has killed me."

Yet.

"Whatever, Daddy."

I turn away from Daddy's ghost and approach the shape crouched against the wall. It's back is to me. "Um, excuse me Ma'am ...or Sir. Would you mind sharing a bit of the poppy?" It doesn't turn around. I can't believe it's ignoring me. I mean...acting like I was invisible. Maybe it can't hear. I don't want to touch its grimy....ewww what color is that anyway?... But the dragon calls....mmmmmmm the dragon smells so good. I touch its shoulder softly. "A little poppy? I can pay for it, of course. I'm no freeloader."

"What'll you pay with, Ridinghood?" a deep voice roared. "What could you possibly have that I would want?"

...to be continued tomorrow

  

Don't forget to leave a comment to win a Mind of a Mad Man ebook. Make sure to include your email address in the comment.

And while you're out trick-or-treating, be sure to visit the other authors on the coffin hop.

If you haven't visited K.F. Kirwin's blog, you should. She writes ghost stories..I think she and Regan can both speak to ghosts.

Are you enjoying the IBC Blog Tour de Force? I hope so because we love having you drop by and read about the realms. We love it so much that my daughter Mary decided that everyone who comments on the review of Soul Search will also receive a free ebook copy of The Reunion the latest book in the Dime Store Novel series.




Duncan O'Malley



We have more tricks and treats in store for you next week. We'll be participating in the Coffin Hop along with a lot of other horror writers. But Dime Store Novel isn't really horror, you say?

Isn't it? Have you been to the Nightmare Realm yet? I didn't think so. But, you see, I have and someday I'll tell you all about it.

However, next week, we're going to let you in on another kind of horror. Each day there will be a new episode of a story involving Mary's best friend from childhood, Regan Worth. I know...you think she's safe in India hunting frogs. But believe me. I've known Regan a long time -- I was best friends with her father -- and I can tell you, Regan can find trouble anywhere.

Plus, every person who comments on an episode will receive a free ebook copy of Mind of a Mad Man. There are plenty of ghosts in that book -- and Regan isn't the only one who sees them.

See you here....on the Coffin Hop.