Little things in the real world (aka non-writing life) have been thwarting my attempts at any serious production lately. Okay – so I’m lying a little. CHC isn’t out yet because I was really having a hard time writing the conclusion. You would think this wouldn’t be hard, but it was for whatever reason. Luckily it’s finished and that part has been sent back to the editor. Then tonight the final pass and formatting fixes and to print it goes!  I say it after every book and it’s true – no two books is alike and each one presents its own unique challenges. They are all birthed in their own time.

I don’t really have much else to say so I’ll leave you with an excerpt from Into Darkness since that’s my next baby:

That night I sat down and looked at the items that had become the bane of my existence. The amulet seemed to glow violet. The only thing that wasn’t cursed was the painting, which I had every intention of framing and placing in my hallway. The lone death barge traversing a black sea against the smoky red background. That’s how I felt. Like I was on a death ship heading into the unknown. Curses had the potential to be a nasty thing if you weren’t sure how to break them.

Michael knocked on the temple door. “Liz, you still in here? What are you doing?”

“Just thinking. Trying to figure it out,” I said.

“You know,” he started cautiously. Which usually meant he was going to say something he didn’t think I’d like. “I’ve been reading a lot of online forums about cursing and the more you dwell on the curse, the more it works. You’re helping it along. There’s a psychological factor to it…”

That was Michael, always the practical skeptic and one of the things I find most refreshing about him. I followed him out of the temple, through the hallway and back into the kitchen. “I know. There’s just something different about this. I mean first I get into a car accident, then when Alyssa took the amulet, her basement floods. There’s foundation damage now. It’s just strange.”

“It could just be coincidence,” he said matter-of-fact. He poured me a cup of coffee and I sat down at the dining room table in front of my laptop. Like usual the news was on.

“Maybe,” I said. I wasn’t entirely convinced. I’d felt curses before and whatever was lingering over my house right now was not a blessing. It was thick and astral sludge filled and it was making me  sick. It almost felt like an open portal, which was strange.

About Steph

Steph is an award winning and bestselling author of thrilling steamy and paranormal romances, dark urban fantasy, occult horror-thrillers, cozy mysteries, contemporary romance, sword and sorcery fantasy, and books about the esoteric and Daemonolatry. A Daemonolatress and forever a resident of Smelt Isle, she is happily married and cat-mom to three pampered house cats. Her muse is a demanding sadistic Dom who often keeps her up into the wee hours of the morning. You can contact her at

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