Author Sherry Soule

Official Site of Author Sherry Soule

2025-06-19T12:19:00.000-07:00

Stories with heart, humor, and the occasional haunting!

•*¨*•.♥.•*¨*•

Welcome, fellow lover of all things spooky, swoony, and delightfully weird!

I’m author Sherry Soulé, and I write stories with heart, humor, and the occasional haunting—the kind of books where magic flourishes, secrets never stay buried for long, and a little romance is practically guaranteed.

If you love cozy paranormal mysteries, supernatural suspense, and paranormal romances with a humorous twist, you’re in exactly the right place. So, pull up a chair. Preferably not a cursed one.

My stories are filled with sassy heroines who don’t always play by the rules, heroes who have secrets of their own, and small towns where the uncanny is the norm…even if the locals pretend otherwise.

You can expect:
✨ Clever mysteries with fun twists
✨ Supernatural worlds that feel real
✨ Laugh-out-loud moments
✨ Romance that’s swoony and sometimes slightly awkward

If my stories make you laugh, gasp, or stay up too late…I apologize not even a little.

Happy reading!

•*¨*•.♥.•*¨*•

To browse my current publications, please visit my Amazon Author profile

My books can be found at all major book retailers.

Psst, reader. Yeah, you. Subscribe to Sherry’s newsletter for a free eBook, exclusive updates, and other hex-cellent perks. Do it for those hungry rescue cats. And the stories. But mostly the cats. https://dl.bookfunnel.com/c1hkgaof4c

Love Potion No. Mine - Paranormal RomCom

2025-06-19T12:18:00.000-07:00

🖤✨ This new paranormal romcom by Sherry Soule is bursting with:

💘 Enemies to Lovers
🔥 Slow-burn romance
🏠 Forced Proximity (yes, they’re stuck together...literally)
💋 A love spell gone hilariously wrong
🤯 Plot twists, witty banter, and major LOLs

And I think you’re gonna love it.

LOVE POTION NO. MINE

One potion. Two enemies. Zero personal space.

In the coastal town of Eastwick Harbor, Roxy Brewster brews romance for a living—literally. Her shop, The Cupid’s Cauldron, serves up potions that help people fall in love. But when her latest concoction backfires, this adorably indecisive witch ends up bonding herself to the one man she's sworn to hate forever.

Dane Carmichael is broody, gorgeous, and about as emotionally available as a brick wall. He also happens to be Roxy’s childhood nemesis, who once swapped her broom polish with glitter glue—and the absolute last person she'd ever want to be stuck with for thirty days! Now they can’t be more than five hundred feet apart without hiccupping bubbles and suffering dizzy spells.

With the Bewitching Brew-Off approaching, Roxy needs to focus on perfecting her potion for the biggest competition of her career, and not Dane’s stupidly distracting forearms. And yet, the longer they’re magically tethered, the harder it is to remember why they hate each other.

She’s trying to keep her hormones in check. He’s trying to avoid the strong attraction. Both of them are about to realize that love isn't all it’s brewed up to be.

Can a potion blunder fix the one thing neither of them believed in…love?

Buy your copy today! https://amzn.to/4o9YOJ3

LOVE POTION NO. MINE EXCERPT (unedited)

I had nearly perfected my thirteenth batch of my Heartstring No. 9 potion when an ear-splitting wail shattered my concentration.

“FIRE!”

Sweet bubbling cauldrons. Not again.

I jerked away from the workbench, a plume of smoke drifting through the doorway.

Of course, my apprentice would start a fire when I was so close to potion excellence.

Seth Brewster, my cousin and a living torch, rushed into my workroom waving a burning clipboard. By my calculations, this was inferno number fourteen since Seth had started working for me six months ago. At this rate, the insurance company was going to start sending us fruit baskets and warning letters.

He held it out in front of him, and the flames licked scarily near a shelf that contained every Heartstring No. 9 sample I’d brewed over the last month, my one chance at winning the Bewitching Brew-Off.

No, no, no, no. Not today, Beelzebub!

I was not losing my best work to clipboard combustion.

I vaulted toward the wall-mounted fire extinguisher. “Drop it!”

He froze, a flame shooting upwards to his eyebrows. “But I’m double-checking the cacklethorn inventory. You said organization was—”

“Important, not incineration.” I yanked the pin and aimed. “Duck!”

He tossed the inventory list, which hit the floor with a sad, sizzling thunk. I blasted the flames with white foam, transforming it into a charred, soggy rectangle.

Seth’s shoulders sagged, looking like he’d been told kittens were illegal. “So, so sorry, Roxy. I swear my hands just caught on fire.”

I hung the extinguisher. My left eye twitched. I counted to ten. Then twenty. Then wondered if I could count to a million before the urge to dunk him in the harbor passed.

Blowing out a breath, I grabbed a small jar of cooling salve from the shelf and pressed it into his palm. “Here, for the burn marks.”

He dabbed it on and winced.

“What were you thinking about?”

His face turned the color of a ripe tomato. “Nothing!”

“Seth, do not lie to me.”

“I was...er...hoping to ask Lily Carter to the summer solstice dance. And my palms, um, exploded in fire.”

I patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. Remember last week when you spotted that spoiled moonberry before I used it? You saved me from turning half the town into zombies.” I squeezed gently. “Clipboards are replaceable, cousins are not.”

“Again, so sorry.” He lifted both hands, which let off a puff of smoke. He yelped and stuffed them into his pockets.

Sighing, I glanced out the window at Harbor Way, the town’s main street, wishing I could hex the clock. Every minute I spent putting out literal fires was a minute stolen from finalizing Heartstring No. 9, which could finally erase the Brewster family’s black mark.

All I needed today was to keep my eyebrows un-singed and my contest brew on track.

“Get the mop from the storage room, please. The one that doesn’t catch fire.”

Seth scurried away, his linebacker shoulders hunched with guilt, leaving a trail of foam footprints and the lingering scent of burnt cotton. His latest plaid shirt sported fresh scorch marks that matched the permanent char stains on his canvas sneakers.

Shaking my head, I lowered the burner under the cauldron. If I wanted any hope of winning, I wanted one uninterrupted hour. Was that so much to ask?

From the mirror on the wall, I caught my reflection. My fair skin had that pre-meltdown glow that made me look like a porcelain doll about to shatter. Green eyes narrowed, freckles scattered across my nose and cheeks, and wavy, shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair.

At thirty-four, I should’ve mastered the art of looking composed during emergencies. At least my blue dress was unscorched. Small victory for a neat freak brewing her way through a fire hazard.

My aunt materialized beside me in a burgundy cardigan and murderously pointy flats, her lips pursed as if she were about to critique a third-grade spelling bee. She fluffed her short curls, the color of chili powder.

“Cursed cauldrons! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Inwardly, I groaned. Just what my brew schedule needed: a surprise performance review and a fresh lecture about family shame.

“Another accident?”

“Only a small one.” I started edging toward my workbench, where batch thirteen waited. “So if we could talk later…”

Aunt Hilda pinched the bridge of her nose. “That boy is a walking insurance claim around anything flammable. Which, in an apothecary, is literally everything.”

“He’s enthusiastic. And this time, he only vaporized my clipboard. Yesterday, it was the cash register. See? Progress.”

“Progress would be hiring someone whose special talent isn’t arson.” Aunt Hilda shook her head. “Hmm. Is this your latest entry for the Bewitching Brew-Off? Looks unstable. In my day, we didn’t need fancy bottles and sparkles to make proper potions.”

“Yeah, and in your day, people thought dancing naked under the full moon cured everything from heartbreak to eczema.”

“Hmph.” She grasped a bottle of Heartbeat Harmony, our bestseller, and held it toward the shaft of sunlight cutting through the dusty windows. “This batch is too pink.”

“It’s supposed to be pink. It’s an attraction potion, not motor oil.”

“Too. Pink.” She set it down with a clink. “Reminds me of your mother’s experimental batches.”

“Yeah, well, the color is the least of my worries. Right now, all I care about is finalizing my Heartstring No. 9 potion.” I gestured at my workbench. “Which I could accomplish if people stopped setting things on fire or critiquing my work choices.”

“You’re in a mood today.”

“Sorry, but I’m crazy busy. So thanks for stopping by,” I said, glancing at my unfinished brew. “Really need to add the rose essence while the base is—”

“I’ve been thinking, if you actually win the contest, it might restore our reputation. That whole mess your mother created still haunts us like an itchy rash. She was talented. but we almost lost our magical license because of her recklessness.” She shook her head. “And the Mystic Council still sends us passive-aggressive holiday cards.”

Growing up in Eastwick Harbor, everyone knew about the Brewster family’s fall from grace. People often compared me to my late mother, Brenda. Sure, she’d treated brewing recipes like polite suggestions, but I wasn’t my mom.

I didn’t brew by gut or midnight inspiration. I kept logs, ran tests, and made effect charts. I believed in evolution—science and magic, responsibly blended.

“Hi, Auntie.” Seth reappeared with the mop.

“Hello, our Firestarter.” My aunt looked at me. “I’m glad you’re not following in Brenda’s explosive footsteps.”

Three potion bottles on the shelf rattled.

“Was that an earthquake?” Seth frowned.

“Only our ancestral shame manifesting physically whenever Aunt Hilda mentions family scandals.”

The tight lines around her eyes deepened. I’d spent years rebuilding our reputation. My methods differed completely from my mom’s. Mine were scientific, ethical, controlled. I needed to win this contest for my aunt as much as for myself.

A small purple toad hopped out of her purse. She grabbed it and tucked it back as if it were a stray lipstick. “You sure about entering a love potion?”

I glanced at the competition chart pinned to the wall: thirty days until submission.

“Yep. And before you start lecturing, I know love potions have a bad rep. Heartstring No. 9 doesn’t coerce feelings, and I’ll prove it.”

My brews never forced attraction, intent, or free will. That was Rule One. Rule Two: never combine Lustvine with luck charms unless you wanted a raccoon familiar.

Seth started mopping around us.

I gripped a wooden spoon from the counter and stirred the brew simmering in the cauldron. “Maybe less rose essence in this batch? Or more Dramadill? But it might be too strong.”

Her lips pressed into a line so thin it could slice cheese. “A professional potion maker stands by her ingredients.”

Easy for her to say. Aunt Hilda had never questioned a decision in her life.

Me? I spent twenty minutes this morning debating a navy versus black dress. Changing three times before settling on navy. Which I now regretted because black would have hidden stains better.

Now I was doing the same thing with my work. At this rate, I’d be the most indecisive person ever to win a major supernatural competition. If I actually entered. Which I probably would. Maybe.

“Listen, I need to get back to work, Aunt Hilda. I’ll see you at home.” I rubbed a streak of foam off my sleeve.

If Aunt Hilda’s critiques didn’t unravel my patience, the next person through that door just might.

The shop door opened.

“Yoo-hoo! Your favorite fairy has arrived with carbs!”

Holding the stirring spoon, I followed Aunt Hilda into the main shop area.

My apothecary and tea shop, The Cupid’s Cauldron, maintained a clean and orderly system: rows of potion bottles gleamed on black shelves, their wax seals reflecting the moody burgundy and gold paint on the walls. Ghostly customer handprints lingered on the purple velvet consultation chairs in one corner, and dried herbs dangled from overhead beams like floral mobiles designed by an anxious crow.

Layla Stevens, my best friend, waltzed to the counter with blue hair braided and a bakery box clutched in her hands. At five-feet tall, she radiated the energy of a double espresso.

Pastries or not, my thirteenth batch of Heartstring No. 9 didn’t need sugar. It needed focus. Immediately. Much as I loved my aunt and Layla, all of these distractions were interrupting my work.

“Hi, Hilda, Roxy!” She bounced over to us, then paused. “Whoa, you look like you’ve been wrestling with your cauldron again. Brought emergency goodies.”

Her fairy empathy was scary-accurate because she always knew exactly what comfort food someone craved. Today, that was lemon scones, and they were absolute perfection for my souring mood.

“Layla, now’s not a good time. I’m in the middle of brewing—”

“Guess who’s back in town?” She hopped onto the counter, swinging her legs, her gladiator sandals tapping against the wood. Her small, pointed ears peeked through her hair, and a light dusting of glitter shimmered on her arms.

My heart did a little death spiral. “Please don’t say it.”

“Oh, I’m saying it. Dane Carmichael.”

Aunt Hilda perked up like a gossip at a funeral.

The spoon slipped from my hand, splashing crimson goo on my dress, and clattered to the floor. Every muscle from my jaw to my toes locked up.

The taste of bitterness coated my tongue like burnt licorice. Of course, my arch-nemesis would show up now, right when I was prepping for the most important competition of my career.

“Why? How? Since when?” My voice came out strangled, as if I’d swallowed a live bug.

Dane and I existing in the same town again?

That violated the laws of nature. Matter and antimatter, destined to explode.

Layla nudged the pastry box, her expression sympathetic. “He’s a big-shot supernatural security specialist now, and upgrading the town’s protection grid.”

Nothing about Dane had ever made sense to me—including why the mention of his name still made me want to scream, cry, and hex him into next week.

Not necessarily in that order.

Layla patted my shoulder. “You okay? Need a scone?”

“He’s really back? I mean, whatever. Good for him.” Grinding my teeth, I twisted the front of my dress with my hand. “You know, he once told me I’d never make it as a potion maker because I overthink everything. He was such a douche!”

He’d always made me feel like I was too much and yet not enough at the same time. That was the thing about Dane that stuck with me all these years. Not the teasing or the pranks, but how he’d zeroed in on my deepest insecurity and tossed it back at me like it was nothing.

Everyone stared at me.

I’d been wringing the hem of my dress hard enough to strangle a snake, and I forced myself to let go. Red potion dripped onto the floor like blood.

Seth shuffled into the room with a broom. “Who we talking about?”

“A smug, sanctimonious know-it-all who sabotaged my science fair project, stole the blue ribbon, and then called my work unstable. Said I’d be brilliant if I ever stopped second-guessing myself. Like I needed advice from a thirteen-year-old with gelled hair and an ego problem.”

Seth let out a low whistle as he swept the floor. “I’m ready to hate him.”

“Good. Cause he’s the original blueprint for mansplaining.”

Aunt Hilda crossed her arms. “You’ve been carrying this resentment around for fifteen years?”

I shrugged. “Some people collect stamps. I collect grudges…because he was right, and I hated that he saw through me.”

Layla nodded. “And then there was debate team fiasco—”

“We don’t talk about that!” My cheeks burned at the memory. “Anyway, I really need to focus on work right now. Thank you for stopping by.”

“Fine,” Aunt Hilda said, grabbing her purse, “I’m off to my poker game.”

Layla slid off the counter and gave me a quick hug. “And I should get back to the bakery. Don’t stress too much about the competition. Or Dane. You’ve got this.”

After they left, Seth finished cleaning and escaped.

Closing for the day, I stared at my workbench, which resembled a mad scientist’s lab, with its dozens of labeled jars, tools, and stack of notebooks full of formulas and crossed-out corrections. The afternoon light was already fading, but I could still finalize this batch.

Thirty days until the Bewitching Brew-Off. Enough time to prove the Brewster name deserved respect again. To confirm to the Council, to the town, to myself that I wasn’t my mother. That my methods weren’t sketchy, only different. That I was a scientist, an innovator.

And if I won, the Mystic Council would have to acknowledge my research. They’d have to admit that love potions could be ethical, helpful, even revolutionary when created responsibly, and the grant would buy me a year of experiments.

Squinting, I inspected two vials.

More rose essence or dragon’s breath? The rose would enhance emotional connection, but dragon’s breath added stability. But suppose the rose was too intense? What if the dragon’s breath overwhelmed the other ingredients?

Was I overthinking this? And overthinking my overthinking?

This was why Dane had called me brilliant but paralyzed, like he was diagnosing a rare disease, and why I’d spent fifteen years proving him wrong.

After standing there for five minutes, I still couldn’t choose. Just like I couldn’t choose between dating the warlock or the werewolf last year. Like how I was unable to make any decisions without drafting a pros and cons list.

Disgusted at my indecision, I dropped the vials and reached for a bottle of Heartstring No. 9, eyeing the liquid as it shimmered in the light. “Flawless clarity, good viscosity.”

I unscrewed the bottle’s cap to add a drop of crushed Snugglethorn—

The front door crashed open.

The bottle slipped from my fingers and did backflips in the air.

“Ahhh!“

I dove for it and caught it with my face. And the potion splashed straight into my open mouth.

Swallowing reflexively, the liquid tingled all the way down. My toes curled inside my shoes, and every hair stood on end as if I’d stuck a fork in a power socket.

Gads, no!

I did not just dose myself with my own experimental blend.

As the potion hit my system, magic hummed in my bones. I stumbled from the backroom and into the shop.

Wiping the tonic off my cheeks and chin, I faced the doorway with a customer-friendly smile and literally forgot how to breathe.

Buy your copy today! https://amzn.to/4o9YOJ3

#AuthorSherrySoule #ParaRomCom #ParanormalRomanticComedy #WitchRomance #FriendsToLovers #Bookstagram #ForcedProximity #SlowBurn #RomanticFantasy #ParanormalRomance #EnemiestoLovers #RomComBooks #RomanceReaders #ParanormalRom #WitchyReads #BookstagramRomance #NewRelease #MagicalRomance #NewBookAlert

🕯️DARK ARTS & CRAFTS is NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER! 🕯️

2025-05-10T16:49:00.000-07:00

Y'all ready for more magical mayhem? The third Danika Dreary Mystery is here!

Danika’s got a full plate: a murdered candlemaker, a spell that may (or may not) grant eternal youth, and enough family secrets to fill a grimoire. And this book is longer than the first two—because our nosy amateur sleuth has a lot to wrap up.

What can you expect?

🔮 Extra helpings of romance (Ryker fans, you're welcome)
🕵️‍♀️ Jaw-dropping plot twists
🔥 Suspense that'll keep you reading past your bedtime
😂 Plenty of heart and humor
🐱 And yes, Sashay the cat is back with her usual sass

Read now and join Danika as she uncovers the truth about the Blackstone Spell, before someone else ends up six feet under!

Buy link: https://amzn.to/4jRB36I

P.S. If you haven't read books 1 & 2 yet, what are you waiting for? A sign from the universe? Consider this it! 😉

Magical Mishap Mysteries

2025-01-08T15:29:00.000-08:00

When magic meets murder, this witch means business...

With a passion for spellcraft and all things macabre, Penelope Primrose spends her days hexing dust bunnies and haggling over haunted hatboxes at her curio shop, Thirteen Treasures.

But her All Hallows’ Eve party goes from spooktacular to spectacularly wrong when a shady antique dealer—infamous for swindling senior citizens—ends up dead. And nobody ruins her favorite holiday and gets away with it!

Armed with her snarky feline familiar, Malarkey, and more determination than a ghost with unfinished business, Penelope vows to crack the case. But solving the mystery isn’t as simple as waving a wand. The distractingly handsome sheriff keeps giving her side-eye, and the suspects are more colorful than a bag of Halloween candy.

Between cursed teacups, menacing craft projects, and danger lurking around every headstone, she'll need all her wit and whimsy to catch a killer before they strike again. Because in Scarecrow Springs—where even the ravens have secrets—nothing is ever quite what it seems.

Can this charmingly optimistic witch solve the case, or will this Halloween haunt her forever?

If you like magical heroines, furry-talking sidekicks, and a dash of romance, then you’ll love this delightful whodunit.

GRAB YOUR COPY TODAY FROM AMAZON!

READ AN EXCERPT

I wobbled precariously on a rickety step-stool, struggling to suspend a particularly stubborn fake spider web. The sudden fluttering of wings made me yelp, my arms pinwheeling. My heart jumped into my throat and I almost toppled over, grabbing the nearest shelf and rattling several crystal balls, but thankfully not breaking anything.

Peering through the window, I scowled at a large raven. My cousin Hazel’s insufferable familiar—Bruja—sat on the ledge, eyeing me with a judgmental stare as if I was the worst witch she’d ever seen.

"Aww, hello there, Bruja. Checking out the competition for Hazel?" I gave my feathered visitor my brightest smile, as though I hadn't almost demolished half my inventory. "You're always welcome to pop in for birdseed."

Bruja responded with a sharp, mocking caw.

With a shrug, I returned to my decorating. The October breeze drifted through the open window, bringing with it pirouetting maple leaves and that delicious hit of Halloween magic. Even my wind chimes got into the spirit, tinkling what I could’ve sworn was Monster Mash.

I hopped down from the stool, surveying my handiwork with a critical eye. Then I flipped the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’ at Thirteen Treasures, a favorite hangout for those who loved all things spooky and weird.

"Hmm. Do you think we need more cobwebs for the party, Malarkey?"

“Perhaps.” My cat familiar, sitting on the shop's main counter, stretched as if auditioning for a cat food commercial. Her collar flashed from a contented teal to an exasperated orange.

That color-changing collar of hers was better than any Magic 8 Ball when it came to getting her opinion on, well, everything. One minute it appeared yellow because I remembered to buy her treats, the next it flared red because I dared to organize a shelf without consulting her first. Living with Malarkey was similar to the world's most opinionated mood ring.

Grabbing my feather duster, I twirled it like a magic wand, swiping at grimy tomes and curious trinkets that hummed with preternatural energy. Inhaling deeply, I appreciated the peculiar bouquet of my curio shop that reminded me of a library that had eloped with a fortune teller's parlor, honeymooning in a haunted house.

Nothing like a whiff of the arcane to start the day off right.

I paused beside a replica bust of Edgar Allan Poe. "Looking rather dusty there, Eddie. You need a quick spruce-up, and you'll be back to pondering the mysteries of the universe in no time."

"Ah, having a heart-to-heart with our resident wordsmith, are we?" Malarkey said.

I spun around, feather duster in hand. "What can I say? He's an excellent listener. Plus, he never complains about my dusting technique."

Malarkey's tail pointed toward a shadowy corner. "That forgotten area over there might enjoy some attention. The dust bunnies are forming their own social hierarchy."

"Ah, my vigilant guardian of cleanliness. Whatever would my shop do without your expert guidance?"

"Devolve into a realm where dust bunnies reign supreme, no doubt. But watching their tiny power struggles might be entertaining."

Past shelves crammed with oddities, my duster tickled the noses of shrunken heads and swiped across rows of first-edition horror hardbacks.

Dusty or not, this was my domain, my little corner of the supernatural world. I was as much a part of this shop as the creaky floorboards. I took pride in curating a collection that would make even the most seasoned connoisseur of cursed antiques raise an eyebrow in appreciation.

Achoo!

Another sneeze escaped me when Malarkey jumped down and weaved around my legs, practically tripping me in a move that was equal parts affection and attempted murder.

“Hey!” I said, stumbling. “I swear, if I end up haunting this place because of you...” I narrowed my eyes at Malarkey. “Wait, is that your endgame? A feline coup?”

I could imagine the cat on a throne of rare books, issuing decrees to a legion of devoted rodent subjects. Malarkey might be cunning, but world domination was probably not on her agenda...probably.

Malarkey stretched again, arching her back. “And why not? Cats are known as solitary creatures.”

Walking over, I set the duster aside and scooped up my cat. “But who, dear Malarkey, would serve your royal highness her gourmet tuna?”

“For that essential service, I will spare you.” Malarkey purred, snuggling into my embrace. “And we have Halloween preparations to oversee, and you know how I love a good party.”

After kissing the top of Malarkey's head, I placed her on a table. She settled, and my nose tickled. I sneezed three times in quick succession, cursing my stubborn cat allergy. With a sigh, I scratched behind her ears, and she leaned into my touch. Despite countless attempts, I still hadn't found a spell to alleviate these infernal sneezing fits. Regular meds never worked on magical cat allergies.

As I resumed dusting the shelves, I inspected a framed family photo on the wall. Sometimes it felt as if I was trying to fill my Scottish relatives’ pointy shoes while wearing mismatched socks. Sure, my tarot readings were spot-on, but I hadn’t quite mastered that effortless air of mystique the other Primrose women had possessed. Still, I hoped to make my mark on the supernatural world, even if it meant occasionally setting my own eyebrows on fire in the process.

What was a little singed hair in the pursuit of magical greatness?

Crossing to the door, I stepped outside onto Main Street. Scarecrow Springs had transformed into a Halloween spectacle. The small town was home exclusively to Wyrdlings like me—the fate-touched and magically inclined. Thanks to powerful protective enchantments, our community remained invisible to humans, letting us live our wonderfully weird lives in peace. And the residents put their whole hearts into everything they did, especially holiday decorating.

"Yoohoo, Miss Primrose!" Mr. Thimbleton called from his magical supplies shop across the street. "Your decorations are positively spellbinding this year. Let me guess, you've been raiding my inventory again, haven't you?"

"You're too sweet! Your shimmer-webs are simply irresistible. I couldn't help snatching them up to add an extra touch of charm to my shop.”

With a wave and a smile, he stepped into his store, yet I lingered a moment, scoping out the competition.

The post office had outdone itself with misty ghost figures that played peek-a-boo around the entrance. Over at Madame Paige's Bookshop, the display window was full of leather-bound books with attitude problems—they kept snapping at anyone who got too close, making the local kids squeal with delight. Every porch glowed with jack-o'-lanterns and scarecrows reclined on their hay bales as if posing for a harvest festival photoshoot. The air hummed with an undercurrent of magic and the aroma of spiced pumpkin from the bakery.

I turned to head back inside, then froze.

In the gnarled oak tree, an unusual number of ravens had gathered, their iridescent feathers glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

“Hi, my ominous friends. Come to deliver a cryptic message or admire my creepy collection of curios?” I tilted my head. “I'm flattered, truly. But I can't have you stealing all the attention from my paying customers. Unless, you're planning on making a purchase. I've got a lovely assortment of shiny objects that would look simply wonderful in your nests."

The ravens stayed silent, their stillness unnerving as that time I’d accidentally animated my shop's mannequin. My cousin’s raven, Bruja, still sat on the window ledge, but she ignored the others. Guess she wasn’t part of their gang.

Then my smile faltered. Ravens weren’t exactly on my top ten list of cheery omens. The last time there’d been this many ravens in town, my favorite broomstick had snapped mid-flight and my hair had turned an alarming shade of green for a week.
Coincidence? Maybe. But count me curious about those gathering ravens—was a Hitchcock moment brewing, or a squawk-off challenge?

Malarkey meandered outside. “Hmmm…”

I reached into my pocket, took out a stick of black licorice, and bit off the end. Yum. “Those ravens are absolutely fascinating, right? In folklore, they're basically the harbingers of doom.”

Malarkey yawned. “More like feathered snacks with delusions of grandeur. You witches and your superstitions. Next, you’ll say black cats are bad luck.”

“Ah, but not you, Malarkey. In some cultures, black cats are considered good fortune. Though in your case, I’m wondering if I should’ve opted for a goldfish instead,” I teased, finishing my licorice.

She huffed. “Who else would keep you from hexing yourself at least once a week?”

I laughed. “True. Although last Tuesday’s mishap was entirely the fault of that genie lamp. Who knew ‘polish me’ could be so easily misinterpreted?”

I glanced at the birds once more. Raven mysteries and cat conspiracies? Sign me up faster than you could say, abra-cat-dabra!

We stepped inside the shop, the air heavy with the perfume of aged wood, leather, and a hint of patchouli. Halloween decor adorned every surface, from the cobweb-draped bookshelves to the old-fashioned apothecary jars filled with glowing ectoplasm. Someone had—most likely Malarkey—scattered vintage postcards across the counter, so I hurried over to re-stack them. The shop's main counter and cash register sat further back, creating a natural boundary between the browsing area and the more private spaces of the store.

The door swung wide, and a gust of autumn leaves swirled inside, heralding the arrival of my best friend, Willow Greenbriar. She breezed in, a vision of autumnal splendor in her flowing dress of russet and gold. The earthy fragrance of herbs and damp leaves clung to her hair and clothes.

Through the open doorway, the murder of ravens had doubled in size, their black wings casting strange shadows across Main Street. The birds turned their heads in perfect unison to stare directly at my shop. In all my years of living in Scarecrow Springs, I'd never seen anything quite like this.

"Well," I said, forcing brightness into my voice despite the growing knot in my stomach. "Guess this means my Halloween party is going to be extra memorable this year."

I had no idea just how right I was going to be.

📖💕 📖💕

🌟 Available Now in Print!
For those who love the feel of paper between their fingers (and let's be honest, there's nothing like the smell of a good book): https://amzn.to/3KW7qBs

📱 Pre-order the E-book! And free in KU!
For readers who prefer their mysteries portable (and who don't mind their devices occasionally being possessed by mischievous spirits): https://amzn.to/409LOZn

Ready to join Penelope on her spellbinding adventure? Pre-order your copy today and be among the first to visit the wonderful world of Scarecrow Springs!

Immortal Eclipse by Sherry Soule on Sale July 18th!

2024-07-16T11:05:00.000-07:00

💘🌙 Romance Meets Mystery in this Paranormal Page-Turner! 🌙💘

Hey booklovers! I have some thrilling news that'll make your summer reading list (and your wallet) very happy!

📚 IMMORTAL ECLIPSE - my paranormal romance mystery - is going on sale for just $0.99!

🗓️ Sale runs from Thursday, July 18, 2024, through Monday, July 22, 2024

Immerse yourself in a world where passion collides with the supernatural, and a fashionista's greatest challenge isn't her shoe addiction, but resisting a dangerously attractive man!

When Skylar inherits a seaside estate, she expects peace and quiet. Instead, she finds herself torn between solving a deadly mystery and surrendering to a passion she can't deny. As the bodies pile up and the danger grows, so does the heat between Skylar and Dorian.

Can their forbidden love survive the dark forces threatening to tear them apart? Or will Skylar have to choose between the man who sets her soul on fire and her very survival?

Mark your calendars to grab your copy on July 18th! https://amzn.to/3WnT6b8

P.S. Spread the book love! Share this post with your friends. 📚💖🔥

#ParanormalRomance #GothicRomance #BookSale #SummerReads #NightshadeMansion #SherrySoule

Free Cozy Para-Mystery Read!

2024-07-13T16:45:00.000-07:00

Hey there, reader friends! 📚✨

I've got a little treat for you all. I have a cozy para-mystery novella "Spellbook Secrets" that I'm giving away for free!

Molly Blackwell, proud owner of Blackwell's Books and Brews, is a witch with a knack for crafting the perfect latte.

And life in the charming town of Elderberry Edge is delightfully quaint—until the day Molly stumbles upon a cursed spellbook and accidentally releases a mischievous ghost. Her peaceful existence gets flipped faster than a magical pancake. Teaming up with her best friend Piper Holloway, a sassy ghost-whisperer, Molly sets out to restore order and salvage her Yelp reviews.

Now, Molly and Piper must expose a killer, break an ancient curse, and convince their new spectral friend that haunting isn't a valid career choice. All before Molly has to add ‘Haunted Barista’ to her resumé.

Can Molly and Piper solve the mystery in time, or will the ghostly pranks haunt Elderberry Edge forever?

✨ ✨ ✨

Want a FREE copy? Just sign up for my newsletter: https://BookHip.com/BZHCWMP

Already a subscriber? No worries! Just check your email for my last newsletter sent out yesterday (07/12/2024), and I'll make sure a free copy finds its way to your inbox faster than you can say "abracadabra"!

Happy reading, everyone!
~Sherry

#CozyMystery #FreeStory #BookLovers #FreeRead #FreeCozy #Cozies

Publication Updates for Sherry Soule

2024-02-25T11:20:00.000-08:00

🕵️‍♂️✨ Hello friends and fellow booklovers!❤️📖

As we approach the end of February 2024, I'm looking forward to spending a peaceful weekend writing and hanging out with my kids and mom, along with our beloved furry companions.

Onto updates about my publications…

I know some of you are wondering why I publish so infrequently. It took me almost two years to publish, Poison Pen, the sequel to Booked For Murder. The truth is, I started ghostwriting to support myself and my family, so I actually wrote 9 books this year, but only managed to write 1 book for myself. Ghostwriting and book cover design help pay my bills for now.

But you know what? I’m hoping to flip that around to making a living at what I love doing—writing my own books. One way you can help to do that, and I'd be ever so grateful if you can, is to post about my books on your social media accounts, leave reviews, and share your love of reading with others.

Those simple acts will help any author to boost their sales and be able to write more books. The one book I did finish this year is for my new semi-secret romance pen name, which I shared only with you in my last newsletter. I haven’t publicly announced it yet and I’m not sure when I will, if ever.

Anyhoo, so what’s up for 2024, you may wonder.

Well, my friends, I plan to write another book under the semi-secret pen name, and the sequel to Hexes and Hijinks. I had a dream about writing it and I rarely dream about my writing, so I’m taking it as a sign that that’s the book I need to write next.

Then I will probably write the sequel to Shadow Magic. That book was fun to write and I’m not sure if it’s more urban fantasy with romance or a paranormal romance. LOL If you’ve read it, let me know what you think.

Also, in 2024 I plan to build my ARC team. If you don’t know what this is, it’s a Facebook group where the members will get exclusive content and get to read advanced reader copies of my books before they are published in exchange for an honest review posted on social media and/or online, like Amazon.

If you want to join my group, you can visit this link.

Sherry Soule's VIP Reader Group

Join my Newsletter for updates on free reads and upcoming publications

I have also updated a few of my book covers, like the Bewitching Books Mystery series, and I hope you like the new branding. And look for the sequel to Hexes and Hijinks, Sit, Stay, Spook in 2025 and other books that I hope to publish.

Wishing each and every one of you happy reading!

Warmest regards,
~Sherry

Favorite Cozy Mystery Authors

2024-02-25T11:06:00.000-08:00

❤️📖 Hey there, fellow cozy mystery lovers! ❤️📖

As we snuggle up with our favorite reads, I'm curious: what's everyone currently reading this month? Share the title below and let's swap recommendations!

And while we're at it, let's delve into our ultimate cozy mystery author picks!

To kick things off, here are a few of my favorite authors:

1. Heather Webber: With her enchanting Nina Quinn Mystery series, Heather Webber crafts stories that are equal parts heartwarming and mysterious.

2. Kate Collins: The Flower Shop Mystery series is a delightful bouquet of intrigue and romance, perfect for cozy evenings curled up with a cup of tea.

3. M.C. Beaton: The Agatha Raisin and Hamish Macbeth series are delightful escapades filled with humor and intrigue.

As for what I'm currently reading, I've just picked up "A Root Awakening" by Kate Collins from the Flower Shop Mystery series. Collins' blend of floral intrigue and amateur sleuthing always keeps me eagerly turning pages, making it hard to put down!

Who are your top 3 favorite authors in the genre? Whether it's the clever sleuthing, quaint settings, or charming characters, I'd love to hear who keeps you turning pages.

So, dear readers, share away! Let's celebrate our love for cozy mysteries and discover some new favorites together. 🕵️‍♀️🔍

And please join my Facebook reader group to chat about books, life, and reading recs: https://www.facebook.com/groups/authorsherrysoule

#ParanormalReads #CozyMysteries #CozyMystery #BookClub #ReadingCommunity

Paranormal Cozy Reads

2024-02-25T11:01:00.000-08:00

❤️📖 Do you ever find yourself flipping through a book, only to realize you've been spellbound by a tale of ghosts, goblins, or perhaps a charming witch solving the most bewildering of mysteries?

Well, welcome to my world! 📚✨

I love indulging in paranormal reads and cozy mysteries. There's something about diving into the unknown, with a sprinkle of spine-tingling suspense and a dollop of humor, that just captivates me.

And let's not forget the cherry on top: strong, fearless heroines who don't just face the darkness but salsa on the graves of their enemies, tracking down criminals and battling evil forces with a wit sharper than a vampire's fangs.

These heroines, much like the ones I conjure up in my own novels, are not just characters; they're powerful, they're relentless, and they sure as heck don't need a knight in shining armor to save the day. They ARE the knights, armed with nothing but their courage, a touch of magic, and perhaps a sarcastic sidekick. 🗡️🔮

Why do I love these stories, you ask? Because they whisk me away to a world where anything is possible, where every turn of the page is like a journey through haunted mansions, teamed up with sassy witches, and snarky, sexy werewolves.

😉 After all, who doesn't love a good mystery solved with a bit of sass, magic, and supernatural flair? 🌙🔍

Who's your favorite paranormal heroine? Let me know in the comments. ❤️📖

#ParanormalReads #CozyMysteries

Writing Cozy Mysteries

2024-01-15T12:18:00.000-08:00

🕵️‍♂️✨ Hey friends and fellow booklovers!✨ 📚

I really enjoy reading and writing cozy mystery novels. My first two series have a paranormal flavor, but I do have an idea for a new cozy about a hairstylist, who works in a salon considered the gossip hub of her small town, and tries to solve a murder. So, look for that in the future.

Here's a fun fact about my own mystery writing: half the time, I have no clue who the baddie is until I'm way deep into the story. Sometimes, I switch the villain to another character who fits better and seems less obvious. Or maybe it still is. I don't know.

There's just something super cool about stories where you're constantly guessing who's behind all the mischief, don't you think?

For me personally, there's something incredibly satisfying about diving into a world full of suspense, where every character could be hiding something. I'm particularly drawn to character-driven storylines with quirky and humorous characters.

Oh, before I forget, I have some writing news for those who have been waiting: I'm writing the sequel to "Hexes and Hijinks" this year. 🕵️‍♂️📖 Yes, I know, it's long overdue. And nope, I still don't know who the killer is while I'm plotting the storyline. But hey, that's the fun of writing these stories.

I'm also on the lookout for new authors to read. Got any faves from 2023?

Drop your recommendations in the comments. I need more books in my life! (My family would strongly disagree with this statement. lol)

Warm wishes,
Sherry

#CozyMysteries #BookwormLife #WritingJourney

Poisoned Pen 2023 Release & Excerpt

2023-05-12T12:18:00.061-07:00

Book two in the Bewitching Books Mystery series coming September 2023.

A grumpy author. A fatal book signing. And a witchy amateur sleuth.

Magical bookshop owner, Mercy Brew, agrees to host a book signing for a romance writer with more enemies than fans. But when the event takes a murderous turn, Mercy’s dreams of a successful grand reopening crumble like an ancient tome.

Now Mercy and her intrepid friends must solve the mystery faster than the killer can write a sequel. And as the plot thickens, the suspects pile up higher than a stack of paperbacks, and a murky chapter in the author’s past is revealed.

Amidst swirling rumors and a search for clues, Mercy must distinguish between fact and fiction. Because to catch the killer and save her business, Mercy will need to flip through the pages of history before anyone else befalls a tragic ending.

Can Mercy read between the lines to find the murderer?

Read your copy today!

POISONED PEN EXCERPT

Bellamy Deveraux stood in the center of my bookshop with his fists clenched at his sides and uttered an aggravated huff. “If Agatha Brew wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her!” His voice echoed throughout Bewitching Books, rising above the soft classical music playing in the background.

I placed my lunch bag, umbrella, and a to-go container of tea on the glass sales countertop. “Stop worrying so much. We’re totally prepared for the grand reopening.”

A deep frown tugged at his mouth. “Oh, I’m not talking about that. We’ve got a bestselling author strutting in here tomorrow for a book signing, and guess what? Agatha, bless her witchy soul, scheduled it ages ago and then goes and dies without making any preparations.”

“Now be nice,” I warned, but not very sternly. “She might hear you.”

My late Aunt Agatha, whose murder I’d helped investigate, had seen her killer swiftly tried and imprisoned for life. However, her spirit remained, claiming unfinished business—whatever hocus-pocus that meant. Now my goal was to send Aunt Agatha soaring on a broomstick into the light, or wherever witches retired to in the afterlife.

Bellamy ran a hand over his short, black curls. In his mid-twenties, he was a charismatic blend of Hispanic and African-American heritage, with smooth tawny-brown skin and expressive ocher eyes. “Mercy, what are we going to do? This my first day back on the job, and Paige Fever is gonna be here in less than twenty-four hours.”

Trying to remain calm, I gazed at my bookstore, breathing in the heady fragrance of old paper, vanilla, and musty wood. Yes, I would totally bottle and dab ‘new paperback’ scent to my pulse points if I could.

A knot formed in my stomach. “Tomorrow, huh?” I peered out the two display windows flanking the entrance, where a light drizzle blurred the streets and buildings. “You’re right that might be a problem.”

“I had no clue Paige Fever was even gracing us with her presence until her assistant blew up my phone this morning.” Beaded bracelets on his wrist jangled as he laid a hand flat against his chest. Clad in cuffed trousers and a floral-patterned shirt layered over a white tank top, Bellamy was a poster boy for bohemian chic. “How are we supposed to host a major event with zero notice?”

“Looks like we’re going to have to figure it out.” My voice was steady, but uneasiness churned within me. “We don’t have much choice.”

We both grew quiet while we contemplated the dilemma, like an overzealous librarian had just shushed us. Pages of a book rustled as I walked past the occult section. The longer I owned this magical bookshop, the more lively it became.

I let out a sigh, my fingertips tracing over the worn grain of the countertop. “Let me think…”

A book signing could be a big part of my grand reopening and draw in more customers and solidify my presence as a resident and respected business owner in town—something I wanted very much. And most importantly, I wanted to honor Aunt Agatha’s legacy. The bookshop was like a symbol of my dreams and ambitions. So, maybe this last-minute event might not be so terrible after all.

Bellamy leaned into a bookshelf. “We’re talking about Paige Fever here, Mercy. She’s not just any author—she’s a brand, and if we mess this up, our reputation could take a hit we can’t afford. And I like this job.”

“I know…” I said, feeling the weight of his words.

He was right. The stakes were high. The shop was more than just a business; it was a dream, a community hub, and my livelihood. One wrong step could jeopardize everything I wanted for the future of my bookshop. It was more than just a book signing or reopening. It was a turning point, a chance to show the town that I was here to stay, that the shop wasn’t just surviving, but thriving. It could be the stepping stone I needed to cement my place, my identity in this tight-knit community. And I wasn’t the kind of woman to back down from a challenge.

“If we can pull this off, we could put this little bookstore on the map,” I said, the edges of my worry tinged with a glimmer of hope. “It’ll secure your job here and my businessowner status.”

He sighed and gave me a sidelong glance. "I admire your optimism, honey, but this isn't exactly like planning a book club meeting. We're racing against the clock here, and even with my extraordinary charm, I'm not sure we can conjure a successful book signing out of thin air."

“Well, on the positive side, this will be perfect for Bewitching Books’s reopening party,” I said with a small, determined smile. “Let’s get to work, Bellamy. We have a signing to prepare for.”

Bellamy placed both hands on his hips. “All righty. I’m liking this can-do attitude.”

“We’ll need a table, chairs, and snacks.” Grasping my chai tea, I sipped it, leaning an elbow and hip against the counter. “I can get The Trusty Teapot to provide pastries and refreshments. We can borrow folding chairs and a table from the town hall…what else?”

Bellamy’s frown melted away. “A chair fit for the queen of paranormal romance—no, make it a throne!”

I laughed. “I’m sure a regular chair will be just fine for the author’s derriere.”

“Excuse me, but Paige Fever is a fae and like royalty,” he said, lifting his chin.

“Is that so…” I eyed the box of paperbacks on the floor with Paige Fever’s name on them and took one out. The cover featured a handsome wolf with a flowing mane howling at the moon and the title read: Tales of a Lusty Lycanthrope. “Werewolves?”

He winked. “Who can resist a sexy wolf?”

I set the paperback on the heap and ignored his implication. Bellamy was referring to my friendship with Vaughn Wulfstein, a firefighter, a local handyman, and a very hot werewolf.

LuciFur meowed from the display window, and I strode over to stroke his soft fur. After my aunt had passed away, this sleek Bombay cat had become one of my familiars.

“Hello, LuciFur,” I said, scratching under his chin. “I brought a tuna sandwich for lunch, and I’m more than happy to share.”

LuciFur purred and slow blinked at me.

I moseyed back over to Bellamy, who had squatted on the floor beside the counter sorting books. Bellamy pulled back the lid, and the tomes floated upward before zipping to their genre section of the store and slipping into the empty gaps on the shelves.

Owning a magical bookshop was a dream come true for me—a bibliomancy witch. Mages and witches like Bellamy and I were essentially humans sprinkled with a dash of magical flair. Each witch or mage had only one or two primary abilities, but we all practiced the Mystic Arts—a benevolent magic fueled by natural energies and used for selfless purposes. And all supernatural beings referred to themselves as ‘peculiars’ and secretly lived among humans.

The door swung open and Jasmine Bloom breezed inside with her contagious smile, wearing a jean jacket over a floral dress and slouchy brown cowboy boots.

“Howdy, Mercy,” Jasmine said, her blonde mane was styled in a French braid. “Hi, Bellamy.”

After exchanging hellos, Bellamy carried an empty box through the stockroom and out the backdoor to the dumpster in the alley.

“I was on my way to work and thought I’d stop by,” Jasmine said. “Are you nervous about reopening this week?”

“A little,” I admitted. “And Bellamy just informed me a famous author—Paige Fever—is going to do a signing in the bookshop tomorrow night.”

“Oh, my daisies! I adore her novels.” Jasmine clapped her hands with a grin, practically bouncing on her toes. “I read on her website that Paige married her publisher, Isaac Wellington, the one from Story Siren Publications. And get this, she’s actually from our town. Paige must be around forty now, which makes her about ten years older than us. Oh, and her parents used to live here, but sadly, they passed away.”

I took another sip of my tea. “I had no idea she had local ties,” I said, the warmth of my tea seeping into my hands as I cradled the cup. “I’m just hoping the bookshop can handle such a famous author and all the fans she’s likely to attract.”

My friend fiddled with her braided hair. “Wanna hear some local gossip? Rumor has it Paige left town twenty-five years ago under mysterious circumstances. Vanished during her senior year of high school. People say Paige transferred to a private school, and others think she went to live with her grandparents because she didn’t get along with her folks.”

“Huh. A mystery,” I said, smiling.

“And I know much how you like those,” Jasmine teased and fluttered about like a restless butterfly. She grabbed a book, flipping through the pages before closing it again. “Where’s Tricksy?”

Jasmine was inquiring about my significant other, my French bulldog and other familiar. “It’s such a nice day, I left her napping in the doghouse at home.”

“Well, I'm excited. Now, I’d better get to my landscaping job—bye!” Jasmine waved as she slipped out the door.

A moment later, a tall, slender woman with a chilling blue gaze and flaxen hair styled in a pixie cut stepped into the bookshop, and a younger woman followed her inside.

“Who is in charge here?” The taller woman demanded.

Read your copy today!

45 Reasons why I love the Fall season!

2022-09-21T17:03:00.005-07:00

The weather is finally cooling down here in California, and while we don't get "seasons" per-say, we do get crisp, autumn days and cold nights.

I used to be a summer girl, but now I look forward to autumn every year in late September, and it's also my birthday month.

Here are 45 Reasons why I love the Fall season:

1. All. The. Sweaters.

2. Warm pumpkin pie

3. No more worries about leg shaving

4. Snuggling on the sofa with snacks and a scary movie

5. Breathing in the chill, brisk air

6. Comfy, toasty warm pajamas

7. Thanksgiving

8. Halloween candy

9. The leaves changing to beautiful golds, browns, and reds

10. Drinking hot chocolate on wintry days

11. Relaxing with a cozy mystery book

12. Fall Wardrobe

13. The scent of steaming apple cider

14. Thick, warm socks

15. Soft, plush blankets

16. Going to a pumpkin patch on a farm

17. Halloween / Fall decor

18. Feeling thankful for all the good

19. Stomping on crunchy leaves

20. Fall holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, my birthday ;-)

21. Crackling fireplace

22. Roasting marshmallows

23. Black Friday

24. Rainy days

25. Chilly nights

26. Fall festivals

27. Halloween Costumes

28. Ghost stories

29. Apple pie with a dash of ice cream

30. Baking cornbread

31. Apple cinnamon scented candles

32. Pumpkins

33. Fall fashion - boots!

34. Harvest Moon

35. Candied yams

36. No need for a tan

37. Visit to an apple orchard

38. Trick-or-treating

39. Decorated front porch displays

40. The smell of wood-burning stoves

41. National Black Cat Day (October 27th)

42. Twinkle lights and autumn flare

43. Mornings are golden and misty

44. Dark nail polish

45. Christmas is just around the corner!

Please share in the comments what your favorite things are about the Fall season.

Buffy, the Vampire Slayer Continuity

2022-05-24T16:17:00.032-07:00

As many of you know, my book trilogy, the Charmed Chronicles were heavily Buffy-inspired and I'm a huge fan of the TV series.

Any other Buffy-loving-fans daydream about a Buffy, The Vampire Slayer revival or TV series sequel?

I’m a little embarrassed to share this, but I can’t get this idea I have for a current revival out of my head. I have been thinking about it for a while, but it was the twenty-year reunion that sparked the idea to life again.

I suppose a sequel really depends on what these actors are doing now, and if anyone, including Joss, would even be interested in a show reunion.

I think Netflix would be a good fit because they have some of the best supernatural-type TV shows on right now.

Honestly, I’m not sure if this will turn into fan-fiction, or possibly an email plea to Joss Whedon himself.

My version of a new series of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer starts about twenty-plus years after the series finale on TV, and mostly deviates away from any storylines featured in the graphic novels, comics, or books, etc. I did include some crossover characters from Angel because, well, I really liked them and wanted more of their story. Plus, I wanted to bring some characters back to life that died because a series continuation, it just wouldn’t be the same without them in my humble opinion.

Title: SLAYER, THE NEXT GENERATION

Vampires have evolved over the years and no longer have bumpy foreheads. They are stronger and faster. (More like True Blood, The Vampire Diaries, and The Originals type vamps.)

Demons are much scarier and more sinister.

All villains are evil, yet still have a humorous edge.

Werewolves have evolved too and now become actual wolves.

Although, the Hellmouth is closed in Sunnydale, its magical essence remains and it still attracts mystical creatures who want to weld that power in different ways. And different demonic factions want to try to convert Buffy’s teenage daughter to the dark-side to use her powers to rule the world.

But there are no “world-ending” tropes because that doesn’t make sense to me. If the world ends, even the bad guys would die. And this holds especially true for vampires because they would die if humans were extinct. Who would they feed on? Yeah, no Happy-Meals with legs. Or necks…

So the villains in this version only want stuff like world domination, or maybe to eradicate a rival species or an enemy (like Slayers), or they crave power, or want to make humans into slaves, etc.

In the newly rebuilt Sunnydale…

BUFFY

Shortly after the Hellmouth in Sunnydale was decimated, Buffy Summers (actor Sarah Michelle Gellar) met up with Riley Finn six months after his wife died in a demon fight and they shared one night of passion. Nine months later, Buffy gives birth to a daughter, Zoey, who is born with both Buffy’s super slayer powers and Riley’s enhanced DNA.

Not wanting to burden Riley with a child, Buffy decides not to tell him, and then loses touch with him, thinking after all these years that he is dead. As her child grows older, Buffy tells her daughter that her father was a soldier who died in a war as a hero overseas.

After roaming the world and fighting evil, Buffy decides to move back to the newly rebuilt Sunnydale, assuming it was safe now that the Hellmouth was buried. Buffy is tired of life on the road with her daughter and promised Zoey that they would finally settle down. They move into an old Victorian home that happens to be haunted.

Career: Buffy has become a successful bounty hunter for both demons and humans, working for a somewhat shady ex-demon.

Character Flaw: Buffy is having an identity crisis. If she is no longer the only Chosen One, then who is she? Mom? PTA member? Bounty hunter? Ex-Slayer? While she flounders, she tries different ways to “find herself” and often gets into conflicts with Cordelia. Like trying to outdo her in a fundraiser, bake sale, etc..

Conflict: Buffy and her daughter are polar opposites. Buffy tries to tell her daughter that she has a destiny, but Zoey is very anti-slayer. And her daughter has zero interest in shopping or cheerleading or slaying.

WESLEY AND WILLOW

Willow Rosenberg (actor Alyson Hannigan) has created a cure for vampirism. (Of course, vampires are reluctant to take the remedy.) And Willow has become a leader of the local witchcraft community, and she also teaches a weekly class on science and magic.

Most importantly, Willow has become a healer within the supernatural community to atone for her ‘Dark Willow’ days. Paranormals come to her for advice and healing.

Career: She is now a renowned medical examiner, who works in the local morgue and helps both the “next generation,” along with the police (even the X-files of the FBI) to solve mysterious cases.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (actor Alexis Denisof) was accidently resurrected by a necromancer, and went to Willow for help. She ran tests on him, they became good friends, and six months later, they became romantically involved and got married. They had a child together, a magical badass with a chip on her shoulder, who attends the local high school.

Career: Wesley is a police consultant and a stay-at-home dad.

SPIKE (WILLIAM)

Spike (actor James Marsters) was Willow’s first test subject and he is now human, but still a badass, although he has aged somewhat. He now goes by the name William. (Only Xander still calls him Spike.) He feels very protective of Buffy’s daughter and loves to go to poetry slams at the local coffee house. He is writing a book about his life as a vampire that he swears is better than any fiction Anne Rice wrote. He even has an agent and publishing deal. He used his advance to buy a mansion near a graveyard. William also helps Willow find vamps and tries to get them to take the cure.

XANDER AND CORDELIA

Xander Harris runs his own successful construction company and he married Cordelia Chase and they have two kids, a teen boy and a girl. The girl is besties with Buffy’s daughter. Although, these two characters are basically happily married, there is some tension because Xander still secretly misses Anya.

Xander Harris (actor Nicholas Brendon) is much more alpha male now (like he was in The Pack, but without the evil) and a shrewd businessman. He moved back to Sunnydale because he won a bid to help restore the town. He is overseeing most of the reconstruction. Xander is now the wealthiest and most powerful man in Sunnydale.

Cordelia Chase-Harris (actor Charisma Carpenter) was given a second chance by the Powers that Be and she was returned to Earth in her human form. Cordelia is the head of the PTA and several other organizations around town and at the school. She is very competitive and pushes her daughter into cheerleading, prom queen, and beauty pageants. She loves being Mrs. Harris and married to the richest man in town. She constantly challenges Buffy and makes her feel like a bad mother. The only person who is able to put her in her place is Xander, who she adores. She has become one of those overbearing moms, who tries to control her daughter’s life.

THE NEXT GENERATION

Zoey Summers is the polar opposite of her mom, Buffy. She is bookwormy, smart, and lead reporter for the school newspaper (a nod to Veronica Mars). She dresses somewhat goth/emo in dark colors and combat boots. Zoey likes to write morbid poetry, and she is a big reader, loves being a reporter, and she likes helping Spike edit his book. She knows who she is and what she wants out of life. She hates traveling and is excited about setting down roots. (She lies and tells the other kids at school that she was a military brat who moved around a lot previously.)

Conflict: Unlike Buffy, she hates shopping and cheer-leading. She loves her mom, but wishes that Buffy “got her.”

She is unlike any other Slayer the world has ever seen. Her powers include: TBD

Drake is a half-demon/half-human boy that becomes Zoey’s romantic love interest. He was sent to Sunnydale to convert Zoey to evil, but he ends up falling in love with her. He struggles with his demon-side.

Ivy Harris is Zoey’s best friend and a budding witch.

Brock Harris is an all-around jock and somewhat of a bully.

Minerva “Mina” Wyndam-Pryce is sweet and soft-spoken. She likes solving mysteries. (Kind of a Velma type from Scooby-Doo.)

Villain: An Upper-level demon, Valona, wants to use the Hellmouth’s leftover power to rule the world and enslave humans.

POSSIBLE GUEST STAR CHARACTERS

Giles (actor Anthony Stewart Head) has taken over as head of the Watchers Counsel and he moved to England, but visits Sunnydale twice a year and is like a grandfather to Buffy’s daughter.

Illyria / Fred Burkle (actress Amy Acker) battles evil and helps Giles.

Gunn (actor J. August Richards) has taken the cure and is no longer a vampire. He’s a retired demon hunter and lives a quiet life now. He visits Sunnydale on occasion.

Angel (actor David Boreanaz) visits the new Sunnydale on occasion, usually to warn Buffy of some impending danger and to help fight any big baddies. He does not want to take the cure, even after Buffy pleads with him to drink it and become human. Angel promises he will take the cure once he has finished an unknown quest.

Dawn Summers (actor Michelle Trachtenberg) has gone onto to college and is now a professor on the occult.

Andrew Wells (actor Tom Lenk) lives in Sunnydale and is principal of the local high school. He flirts with Dawn.

Conner Black (actor Vincent Kartheiser) is very powerful, with all the vampire powers, but none of their weaknesses. (He can enter any house and go out in daylight, etc.) He is a social worker in LA.

Anya Jenkins (actor Emma Caulfield) returns to Sunnydale. In a spell gone wonky, Willow resurrects Anya as a human, who still loves Xander and is jealous of his married bliss.

Harmony Kendall (actor Mercedes McNab) has taken the cure and become a school counselor at the local high school, but offers more advice on fashion and boys, then on college prep.

Faith Lehane (actor Eliza Dushku) is in charge of training the potential slayers at a slayer school in a nearby town.

Riley Finn’s whereabouts are unknown. He went on a mission and was never heard from again…

Daniel “Oz” Osbourne (actor Seth Green) is a successful musician with his own band, Wolfs Bane, and he visits Sunnydale on occasion, mainly to visit Willow and friends.

Drusilla (actor Juliet Landau) is outraged when she finds out that Spike is human and tries to get him to become a vampire again. Will she succeed?

If you’re interested in a Buffy #BtVS series continuation, please leave a comment and let me know what you think!

I'm ready to start writing episodes... :-)

BOOKED FOR MURDER ~ Cozy Paranormal Mystery

2021-06-17T16:55:00.398-07:00

NEW COZY WITCH MYSTERY by Sherry Soule!

Nancy Drew has nothing on amateur sleuth Mercy Brew!

A bewitching bookstore. A tome of secrets. And a crime-solving witch.

After inheriting a magical bookshop and an obnoxious black cat, Mercy Brew moves to Hemlock Hills, California, with her French bulldog. For a bibliophile witch, it’s a dream come true.

Unfortunately, the bookstore also comes with a mystery to solve.

When Mercy discovers that her eccentric aunt was murdered and an irate coven member turns up dead, she knows trouble is brewing. Especially when Mercy becomes the prime suspect in the crimes, and both casualties are linked to a mystically sealed book.

Determined to clear her name, Mercy enlists the help of a gorgeous werewolf and two quirky witches. But in a seaside town where secrets bubble like witch’s brew, Mercy could be the killer’s next target.

Start Reading Your Copy Today!

🔎 ☾~✯~☽ ☾~✯~☽ ☾~✯~☽ 🔍

EXCERPT from BOOKED FOR MURDER

It was after midnight when a thunderous rap shook the door like an anxious fist.

Startled, the paperback I’d been reading tumbled from my hands and clattered to the floor. My fawn-colored French bulldog scrambled to her feet and started barking.

“Shush, Tricksy.” I rubbed her furry back. “It’s just someone at the door.”

Hmmm. Just someone knocking on my door in the middle of the night.

Tricksy quieted down, yet her brown stare stayed focused on the doorway.

Nerves fluttered in my stomach. My fingers automatically reached to twist my wedding ring, but it wasn’t there. For a second, I looked at my bare finger and unpolished nails, and those familiar feelings of loss, regret, and failure struck my heart, then ebbed away.

I repeated an affirmation I’d memorized from the audiobook, Positive Witchcraft, that I listened to in the car. “The past no longer matters. It has no control over me. What matters is the present.” I threw my legs over the side of the bed and pushed all thoughts of my failed marriage back into the darkest recesses of my mind.

Tension rippled in my shoulders as I crept to the door, with Tricksy following close at my heels. The hardwood floorboards creaked under my weight and moonlight seeped through the blinds on the windows, forming eerie shadows that slunk along the walls.

I didn't know who’d be at my loft so late. My mom was out of town, my ex-husband didn’t know where I lived, and I didn’t have any friends in the area besides the local librarian. And there was no conceivable reason she would be at my door in the dead of night—not even for an overdue library book.

Navigating between cardboard boxes and past a TV tray, I winced as I stubbed my toe against a stray suitcase. My furnished loft, situated above a detached garage, barely had enough space for a bed, armchair, nightstand, and bathroom. Leaning haphazardly against one wall, stacks of boxes served as a painful reminder of my impending eviction.

I’d spent the day packing, and all that bending over had left me sore and achy, making me feel like a thirty-year-old with the body of an eighty-year-old. More than once, I wished I could simply twitch my nose and have everything done in an instant. Alas, my witchy talents didn’t extend that far. As a practitioner of bibliomancy magic, my abilities were primarily linked to books.

After my divorce, instead of working with literature, I’d taken a job as a full-time caretaker for an elderly woman for a minor wage and this rent-free loft. She had died peacefully in her sleep a month ago, and I had two weeks to move before the family sold the property.

Currently, I was broke and unemployed. My checking account balance was a constant reminder that I wouldn’t have to worry about being the victim of identity theft.

I peeked out the window, careful to keep my face hidden by the blinds, and scanned the landing and staircase that hugged the side of the garage. In moments like this, I missed having a husband to check out late-night noises with, but at least I wasn’t entirely alone. My loyal companion, Tricksy, stayed close by my side.

The backyard and balcony appeared empty, the branches on the birch tree shivering in the wind. The only illumination came from the porch light, shining on a small package wrapped in brown paper with my name on it.

A little late for Amazon Prime to deliver.

“Hello? Who is it?”

Tricky whined and pawed at the door.

My witchy awareness didn’t prickle with forewarning and my dog wasn’t growling, so I grasped the smooth brass doorknob and opened the door. Cold air rushed over my body like icy fingers prickling my skin. The backyard looked shadowy and as dark as a velvet cloak.

As I stood in the doorway in my oversized T-shirt and leggings, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me.

Suddenly, a black blur soared out of the trees, cawing raucously, and flew into the night sky.

I blew out a breath and glanced at my dog. “Cover me. I’m going out.”

Bending over, I picked up the lightweight parcel, scurried back inside, and shut the door. On socked feet, I went over to the bed and tore off the packaging. Inside was a letter and a black, leather-bound hardback. The gold lettering embossed on the cover read Secreta, the Latin word for secrets.

The tome quivered in my hands like a living entity, and I placed it on the bed to read the letter.

Dear Mercy,
We haven’t seen each other since you were a young girl, but I’ve kept an eye on you over the years, and I know I can trust you with my most sacred possessions. Therefore, I have teleported this mystically sealed book to you for safekeeping.
However, with the Secreta comes a word of warning…be careful who you trust. Your life might depend on it!
Blessed be,
Aunt Agatha
P.S.
Only you can open the Secreta with a specific incantation, which is…

The handwriting veered off the page. Odd.

My fingers tightened on the letter, the paper crumpling. “This is too weird. I haven’t spoken to my aunt in seventeen years, and she suddenly sends me this mysterious book,” I said to Tricksy.

My dog sniffed the hardback, then sat back on her haunches.

I flipped the letter over, hoping to find the spell to un-ward the hardback inscribed on the back, but it was blank. I checked the wrapping paper for the key and the incantation, but it was empty.

I reached up and touched my silver necklace, an amethyst crystal that was wire wrapped to resemble the Tree of Life. It had been a gift from Aunt Agatha the last time I’d seen her almost seventeen years ago. Now she’d sent me this strange book.

Scrutinizing the tome, I touched the lock attached to the cover that kept it closed tight and examined the lavender glow, encasing it with a protective barrier. The letter stated only I could un-ward it, but even as a bibliomancy witch, I needed the correct spell.

Since this book came from my estranged aunt, a dabbler in darker magic called Sorcery, I was hesitant to open it. That type of power was dangerous and addictive. I only practiced the Mystic Arts, a benign magic cast for selfless purposes. Sorcery was completely different because the practitioner used malicious intent in their rituals, potions, and spells. With my curiosity piqued, I wanted to uncover any mysteries locked within its pages.

On the bed, the Secreta pulsated with supernatural energy and whispered melodic words that I couldn’t decipher.

I looked at Tricksy. “Should I try to open it?”

My dog whined and scooted away from the book. She rotated in a circle and then curled up on the bed as if she wanted nothing more to do with it.

“It’s only a book, sweetie.” I soothed my dog by petting her head until her big brown eyes closed.

As I stood over the bed, I placed one hand on the cover and summoned my bibliophile magic. The room filled with the fragrant traces of sparkling blackcurrant, soft white musk, and aromatic amber. Being close to Tricksy intensified my power, her magical essence blending with mine.

Familiars, like Tricksy, were psychically bonded to their witches to assist them with strengthening their abilities. I’d found Tricksy wandering the streets in my neighborhood a year ago without a collar or chip, and I’d knocked on doors until someone told me that a family had moved away and abandoned her. As outraged as I’d felt, I had also been relieved—the Frenchie had already won my heart, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

An electrical discharge zapped my skin, and I flinched, shaking out my hand.

“Bell, book, and candle—that hurt.” I clasped my stinging fingers to my chest.

Even though there could be a million different incantations to unseal the book, I wasn’t discouraged. I loved figuring things out, like when I was twelve and finished the Magix, a magical Rubik’s Cube, in two days.

“What do you think’s inside, Tricksy? Forbidden potions? Dangerous spells? A secret formula for snickerdoodles?”

She lifted her face, looked at me, then rested her head on her front paws.

Hmmm. No telling what this spooky tome contained.

I reread the letter, then stared at the Secreta. It trembled on the bed like a small child left out in the cold. My fingers trailed over the cover, the leather binding warm to the touch. Even in the magical world, books were inanimate objects, but this one was obviously different, special. I folded the letter and tucked it inside my purse.

My phone trilled on the nightstand and I answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“I need to speak to Mercy Brew, please,” the caller said, who sounded like an elderly gentleman.

I glanced at the time on the alarm clock: twelve-thirty. “This is Mercy, but it’s awfully late to be calling—”

“This is Everett Bathory, Agatha Brew’s attorney. I regret to inform you that your aunt has passed away.”

Want to find out what happens next?

Start Reading Your Copy Today!

HEXES & HIJINKS Characters

2021-05-13T14:54:00.012-07:00

DANIKA DREARY MYSTERY CHARACTERS

I use images to help me describe and imagine my diverse cast of characters while I'm writing a book to make them seem more real. For HEXES & HIJINKS, these photos were my inspiration.

Do they match how you envisioned the characters?

HEXES & HIJINKS - Cozy Mystery

2021-02-22T15:49:00.061-08:00

Matchmaking can be murder...

Danika Dreary’s life is a certified dumpster fire. After her latest soul-crushing crisis, Danika moves in with her delightfully quirky grandma, Elsie, who believes crystals are a girl's best friend.

The biggest downside? Danika must work at Karma Moon in the quaint town of Mystique, California. Except this is no ordinary new-age shop, it’s also where Elsie plays matchmaker to the town's hopeless romantics.

When Ryker Van Allan demands a refund after his best friend gets stood up—true love comes with a money-back guarantee—Elsie and Danika are stunned. And thanks to Danika's built-in lie detector, she knows Ryker's telling the truth.

The next day, the no-show woman is murdered, and Elsie becomes the prime suspect. Danika can’t let Grandma trade her cozy cardigans for an orange jumpsuit. But in a town where everyone has secrets, Danika can’t throw a tarot card without hitting a potential suspect.

With the clock ticking, Danika must clear Elsie’s name, survive retail hell, and maybe even find a place where she truly belongs.

~ HEXES & HIJINKS EXCERPT by Sherry Soule ~

I hesitated outside Grandma Elsie’s new-age shop, Karma Moon, with one hand hovering over the doorknob and dread twisting in my gut.

The overcast sky darkened, the scent of pine wafting on the autumn breeze. A light rain sprinkled my red Mini-Cooper snugged up to the curb, which could use a wash. I’d just driven two hours in traffic from Modesto and bug guts and bird poop had splattered the windshield.

I jiggled the shop’s doorknob, but it remained shut tight. My knuckles rapped on the door, then I peered through the stained-glass window into the dark building. A neon sign—a psychic hand with stars around it—affixed to the window pitched a pink glow into the main store area.

Huh. I tugged my phone from my purse and dialed Grandma Elsie. The call went straight to an answering machine and I hung up, dropping the cell into my bag.

Was it too much to hope that Grandma had finally embraced modern technology and learned how to use a cell phone? Probably. The woman still used a rotary phone.

Main Street appeared deserted. The other businesses, antique shops, galleries, and cafes, closed and silent. Historical towns like Mystique, California shut down by nine o’clock. A touristy, mountain town so small there wasn’t even a mall or movie theater. Surrounding the area were gold mines, wineries, and the Sierra Foothills, a national forest that seemed to guard Mystique like a treasured secret.

I went around the corner and down a dimly lit alley. The brick building beside Karma Moon had grimy barred windows. A security light over the partially open back door illuminated the entrance and shone on a planter-box with thriving greenery.

The rusty dumpster leaking unidentifiable fluid at the end of the alley banged into the wall. Startled, I yelped.

A Hispanic woman stepped into the light. Not much makeup, nor style to her smooth black hair. Her wrinkled blouse matched the color of her violet lipstick, and she had on plaid flannel pants that resembled a picnic table, with…tie-dye clogs.

“You startled me,” I said, placing a hand over my thudding heart.

The woman snickered, the sound making the little hairs on my skin raise. She tightly clutched a purse in both hands, as if at any moment, it would sprout legs and run off.

I dragged in a deep, steadying breath. “The shop’s closed for the night—”

“I know that, Captain Obvious.” Her voice was unnaturally loud in the stillness. “And sorry for the jump scare. Girl scouts honor. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

An icy pressure on my neck grew colder the longer I stared at the woman. She was lying. The Crocs-wearer wasn’t remorseful in the slightest.

A headache bloomed behind my eyes. Just my luck—my freaky, truth-detecting psychic gift came with the worst side effect ever. Lies often felt like brain freeze, and if I caught too many fibs in one conversation? Hello, migraine.

"What brings you to this charming back alley?”

She pointed a finger at me. “Ah, so you must be Danika Dreary, the flaky granddaughter that Elsie’s always talking about.”

“And you are? How do you know my grandma?”

The woman harrumphed. “I’m Angela, her very best client. The one who's actually been around for her—unlike you.”

Heat crept up my neck, and I clenched my fists. Ouch. That stung more than I cared to admit.

The nerve of this woman, shaming me like that. If my grandma needed me, I was only a phone call away. We had our weekly Sunday night chats, and it was one of the few things I genuinely looked forward to. Heck, I even had her on speed dial. I called it Insta-Gram.

Why did I care what some random fashion victim thought of me, anyway?

Angela curled her lip. “Where’s the stick pins?" She shook her head. "Well, color me unimpressed. Clearly, you're not taking this seriously!” She darted out of the alley, the darkness swallowing her up like a frog gulping down a fly.

Stick pins? That woman was a few cards short of a tarot deck.

Shaking my head, I stepped through the open door into the storeroom, and flicked the switch to turn on the overhead light. Dusty shelves adorned one gray wall stocked with an assortment of kitschy merchandise and meditation books. The hardwood flooring showed signs of wear and warping. The room held the musty odor of an unused attic. A desktop computer, printer, and accounting ledger perched on a desk in the corner.

I shut the back door. “Nana? It’s Danika.”

Moving further into the room, I stood beside a gurgling water cooler near a bench backed up against the wall.

Footfalls creaked from overhead. I swiveled toward the wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to a two-bedroom apartment above Karma Moon, taking up the whole second floor.

“Hello, sweetheart.” An affectionate smile graced Grandma Elsie’s lips as she descended the stairs. In one fist, she clutched a rabbit’s foot, her good luck talisman.

The sight of her familiar face instantly soothed my frazzled nerves. But the rabbit's foot in her hand sent a different message. Was she worried about something? Or just her usual superstitious self?

“You shouldn’t leave the back door open,” I said.

She glanced at the entrance and rubbed her thumb over the furry foot. “I thought I’d locked it after my last client left.”

I had to ask. “Matchmaking or tarot card reading?”

Grandma Elsie smirked. “A mixture of both.”

While she examined the locks on the door, I looked her over. Elsie Dreary was in her early sixties, yet appeared much younger. She had short, sunflower-blonde hair with soft bangs that swooped over cornflower-blue eyes and flaunted the striking symmetry of her face. I grinned at her purple fleece pajamas with a cupcake print under a plush robe and fluffy slippers. Wearing oddball PJs was one of her adorable quirks.

My own outfit wasn’t quite as charming: an oversized sweater paired with black leggings and scuffed UGG boots.

Grandma Elsie faced me and we hugged. Her fragrance of gardenias and talcum powder crowded my nose and made me smile. I held her tight, feeling that sense of dread ebb away.

“I’ve missed you so much.” She slipped the rabbit foot into her robe pocket.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Grandma Elsie pushed back, holding onto my upper arms and giving me a critical once-over. “Let me take a look at you.” She tilted her head and squinted. “What’s with the pink hair?”

Wavy pink-colored hair fell over my shoulders and framed my blue eyes and pale complexion. “It’s breakup therapy. Some women go on shopping sprees, others binge on ice cream—I color my hair.”

A therapist was expensive. A box of hair dye was only ten bucks.

Her grin faltered. “I knew you were wasting your life in Modesto with that jerk.”

Ah, the comfort and support of loved ones. I knew coming here I was in for a lecture, I just thought I’d be able to unpack first.

My shoulders sagged. “What do you want me to say? That you were right? Fine. I guess douche-y men are my kryptonite.”

Now I bet you’re wondering how I ended up here.

My grand exit from Modesto had been a certified dumpster fire. First, I kneed my handsy boss in the groin after he decided my breast was company property. Even now, the memory made me want to take a scalding shower. Then, because the universe wasn't done with me, I caught my boyfriend's phone lighting up with sexy selfies—courtesy of my roommate. The grand finale? Coming home to find my belongings stuffed into my Mini-Cooper. At least they'd been thoughtful enough to pack for me.

Don’t worry, I didn’t key my roommate’s car or sneak into my ex’s apartment to swap his shampoo with hair removal, although the thought did occur to me.

With no other job prospects or places to live, I didn’t have much choice in moving here. Who else would take in an unemployed, homeless thirty-three-year-old?

A sympathetic grandma, that’s who.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She gave me another hug before stepping back. “You okay?”

My head drooped. “Fair to partly cloudy. But seriously, I’m fine. Really,” I said and meant it. My ex and I had only dated for three months so it wasn’t serious, and it was the betrayal that hurt more.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out,” she said. “But you should take responsibility for your life choices.”

My skin flushed and I raised my head. “I know. I just need time to figure things out.”

Grandma Elsie grunted. “You’ve been saying that for years. You quit every job you get within six months. You live a nomad existence. And you date unworthy men…Danika, I just want you to be happy.”

My inability to keep a job was not a trait I was entirely proud of. I might not be happy, but I was attempting to carve out my own niche in the world, and I was still searching for my true calling—whatever that might be.

Grandma Elsie sat on the bench and patted the spot beside her. I plopped down and sighed.

She laid a hand on my arm with a twinkle in her eye. “I told you several years ago that your soulmate was out there. In fact, you’re going to meet him very soon.”

While I wasn’t heartbroken over my recent breakup, I’d sworn not to date for at least a year. Or maybe never, ever again, you get the point.

I rolled my eyes. “No fixing me up while I’m here, okay?”

She puckered her lips. “Love is one of the greatest gifts you can receive, and I take immense pride in finding it for others.”

“You would believe that,” I teased. “You’ve been married four times!”

Her expression softened, along with her voice. “True, and your grandfather—rest his soul—was the love of my life. None of my other three husbands ever measured up, but it’s high time you settled down.” She sat up and narrowed her stare at me. “Danika Elizabeth Dreary, you are a smart, capable, sensitive woman. And you’ve always had a job at Karma Moon.” She patted my knee. “Deep down, you must realize that this is where you truly belong, what you were destined to do—”

“Time out.” I held up one hand. “While I’m grateful to you for taking me in, selling retail is not my life’s ambition. But while I’m here, I’ll help out.”

Grandma Elsie curtly nodded. “Good. I would expect no less, and who knows? Maybe you’ll find that you like working at Karma Moon.”

My heart squeezed. I wasn’t being very appreciative of her goodwill. No reason to tell her that I only intended to stick around long enough for my bad luck to remedy itself. And I just needed to save up enough money to live on my own and find another job. I had no plans to stay in town and work in retail.

My grandma got to her feet. “Let’s get you settled into your old room…” Her voice faded and she froze. Her gaze widened as it roamed over the inventory lining the shelves. “Oh, no. No!”

“Nana? What’s wrong?”

“This is bad. Very, very bad.” Her forehead creased. “A love potion and voodoo doll are missing. Look, there’s an empty space on the shelf.”

Grandma Elsie went to the storeroom shelves, frantically moving around bottles, candles, and sticks of incense. A plume of dust rose and tickled my nose.

I fought a sneeze. “I thought those things were harmless.”

“The potions are to some extent.” She kept rummaging through the items. “More of the placebo effect, but anyone who steals a voodoo doll has nefarious intentions. The dolls are reserved for select clients only. “

“Any idea who might’ve taken them?”

Grandma Elsie paused. “Possibly a client of mine, Angela Hernández. She left just before you arrived. The poor woman is infatuated with a gentleman in town, and refuses to believe that her soulmate is not the man she’s in love with.”

My lips twitched. “And you know this how?”

She tapped the side of her temple with a smirk. “My psychic intuition, of course.”

“Of course,” I teased. “I saw Miss Sticky-Fingers outside in the alley.” I briefly described the woman and our peculiar exchange, along with Angela saying the weirdness about stick pins.

Grandma Elsie pulled the robe tighter around her slender frame. “I gave Angela an afterhours tarot reading tonight because she said it was an emergency, but she wasn’t happy with the outcome.”

“Why would Angela take a love potion and voodoo doll?”

She raked a hand through her hair, the blonde strands standing up wildly. “I’m afraid by stealing the voodoo doll, she intends to hex the man’s girlfriend, and then use the love potion on him.”

“Do you want to call the police?”

Grandma Elsie shook her head. “Over two missing items? It’s not worth the trouble. I’ll contact Angela in the morning to sort this all out…but, ah, bad things do happen in threes.”

“That’s just superstitious nonsense.” I placed an arm around her. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Maybe, but Angela is desperate, and desperate people do dangerous things.”

📚‿➹⁀📚‿➹⁀📚‿➹⁀📚📚‿➹⁀📚‿➹⁀📚‿➹⁀📚📚‿➹⁀📚‿➹📚

There you have it, a little peek at my cozy mystery! Let me know what you think in the comments.

READ HEXES & HIJINKS FROM AMAZON TODAY!

Hexes & Hijinks ~ Cozy Mystery

2020-08-31T10:52:00.039-07:00

Hi everyone!

I have decided to put the next book in the Macabre Mysteries on hold and write a new novel instead, a cozy paranormal mystery.

And I just fell in love with the character's name, Danika Dreary. Actually, I've already started writing it, and I'm super excited about this new story. I can't wait to share it with you guys on May 13, 2021. :-)

Matchmaking can be murder...

With the clock ticking, Danika must clear Elsie’s name, survive retail hell, and maybe even find a place where she truly belongs.

~ ~ ~

You can read an except on my blog.

START READING YOUR COPY ON AMAZON TODAY!

SHADOW MAGIC ~ Paranormal Romance

2020-06-02T17:52:00.011-07:00

Do you enjoy paranormal mysteries, slow burn romances, and unconventional heroines?

Then you'll love reading this new series!

SHADOW MAGIC by Sherry Soule

Ghost summoning? No biggie. Raising the dead? Bring it on. Solving my sister’s sudden disappearance? A bit more complicated...

I’m Serena LeStrange, a necromancer with a fondness for animals, who prefers to hide her freakishly fabulous skills from others. Only my sister makes me feel less of a weirdo, so when she mysteriously vanishes from college, I enroll at Macabre Academy to start my own investigation.

Except this is no ordinary school for the magically inclined, it’s home to all monsters—even the most dangerous ones. And after meeting an incredibly gorgeous vampire and a sinfully hot reaper, I find myself entangled in a passionate, yet forbidden, flirtation. To complicate matters, I get stuck with a ghostly genie sidekick and suspect a sinister sorority of misdeeds.

But to solve the mystery, I’ll need all the help I can get. Someone at Macabre knows what happened to my sister, and I won’t stop until I dig up the truth.

Unfortunately, some dark secrets prefer to stay buried.

Author note:

The quirky character names are meant to be clever and amusing. (Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away, but it was fun!) And the story has a few frightfully silly puns.

Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance

Readership: Upper-YA, New Adult, and Adult

Rating: PG-17; No F-bombs or sex (slow burn / mild sensuality), but there is passionate kissing; Moderate violence and alcohol use.

Now that you’ve been properly warned, boos and ghouls, read on if you dare…

Get your copy now or read for FREE with a Kindle Unlimited subscription!
Macabre Mysteries: https://amzn.to/49Ia2yp

EXCERPT FROM SHADOW MAGIC

Death’s unique aura hung heavy in the room. As a necromancer-in-training, I had an acute awareness of the three corpses in the lab, as well as the dead insects within the walls and the squashed spider in the corner.

“The majority of preternaturals consider shadow magic to be the most dangerous sorcery to wield,” Professor Rig A. Mortis said, scratching his cheek. “Those who perform necromantic rites are often shunned by their peers.”

A few students nodded in agreement. Only thirteen of us with a rare genetic anomaly had enrolled in this course, Resurrection 101, at Conjuration University.

“Why?” Daemon Graves, a stocky guy with black curls, asked. “Necromancy is like innovative recycling. Reduce, reuse, resurrect.”

Several students laughed, including Daemon’s girlfriend Necole D’Kay, who didn’t look like she usually smiled. Ever.

“The clan rulers think it’s precarious to have influence over death, and they distrust our kind, which is why you must endure such intense training and obtain a license before embarking on a career as a resurrection specialist.” The professor sighed. “Thus, morale among necromancers is, let’s be honest, consistently low.”

His words sent a chill quivering down my spine, with visions of necromancer hating mobs trampling through my head.

“To successfully perform a resurrection on a preternatural, animal, or human, they have to be dead for less than thirteen hours,” Professor Mortis said. “Can anyone tell me why?”

Several hands shot upward, including mine. Groups of four, wearing dark-blue lab coats, had gathered in the center of the room around three gurneys. On each one lay a deceased human male donated to science.

Professor Mortis moved about the room. “Miss LeStrange, you may answer.”

I lowered my arm. “Resurrections can be risky. After thirteen hours, a shade can take possession of the empty vessel.”

I was never a fan of lab days, and this windowless classroom resembled a morgue from a horror movie. It always felt unnaturally cold, giving me the creeps. The white industrial tile walls and linoleum flooring held the pungent odor of bleach, practically burning the tiny hairs in my nostrils.

“Indeed.” Professor Mortis scrutinized the room, his piercing stare slashing at our confidence. His tall, lanky frame towered over most of the students, and his pallid complexion resembled the underbelly of a dying fish. He’d styled his dark hair in a severe side-part, and he wore a brown oxford shirt and slacks under a black lab coat. “Tell me more about shadow magic, Miss LeStrange.”

“Only necromancers have this power, which can be used to communicate with spectrals, create zombies, and resurrect the dead,” I said.

The professor nodded. “Correct.”

My chest filled with warmth and I smiled. Those long nights spent studying instead of socializing had been worth it. If I hoped to become a pet and familiar resurrection specialist, I needed a degree in Necromantic Rites.

A draft as cold as the grave prickled my senses. All the warm feels vanished, and the grin dropped from my face. My gaze darted about the room.

There. A ghostly man holding a scythe stood near the counter, where a tray of sliced limes and a pitcher of lemonade sat. My heartbeat quickened. The glacial touch of death felt so strong from the grim reaper, the fine hairs along my nape bristled. For a second, I thought he was here to collect a soul, until he stared at me and sucked in a breath. His eyes widened, as if he was as shocked as I was at seeing him. Then he slowly raised one arm and wiggled his fingers at me.

Okay, this was getting super-duper weird.

No one else noticed the semi-transparent reaper. The professor walked right past him. Maybe I was sleep deprived from cramming all night. It was times like this that I wished my sister, Harper, were here. She’d tell it to me straight. Since I couldn’t call her in the middle of a class, I still needed confirmation that I wasn’t one fry short of a Happy Meal.

I leaned closer to one of my lab partners. “Daemon, do you see that phantom reaper?”

Daemon looked around. “Nothing here but necromancers and corpses, Serena.” He frowned, his gaze lingering on my head.

I self-consciously touched my hair. “I meant—”

“Shhh,” Daemon said. “You’re being weird.”

Well, that wasn’t very nice.

Huh. So I was the only one who could see the reaper. This was getting weirder by the second.

Feeling hot and prickly, despite the chill in the room, I unbuttoned my lab coat. Professor Mortis droned on about necroplasm, but I barely listened. I caught sight of the other students’ distorted reflections in the glass cabinets above a stainless-steel counter. Everyone looked humanoid in appearance, and normally all necromancers had black hair and bright-green flecks in their eyes, yet I had one glaring difference. I was born with vivid blue hair, making me resemble Cookie Monster’s love child. Once I’d wasted a thousand dollars on an elfin glamour to conceal the bright strands, but it dissolved within an hour.

And contrary to popular belief, necromancers didn’t wear black tunics and hang out in graveyards. Personally, I always strove to look fashion-fierce, and today, I’d worn a black, V-neck shirt with a jean mini-skirt and Jimmy Choo biker boots beneath my lab coat. While I was no fashionista, I was a trendy necromantrix, dang it.

Professor Mortis wandered the room’s perimeter. “Can a necromancer control a zombie?” He pointed at one of my lab partners, Necole D’Kay. “You may answer, Miss D’Kay.”

I stifled a giggle. For some odd reason, most preternaturals enjoyed having names that reflected their supernatural pedigree.

“Only advanced necromancers can manipulate zombies,” Necole said smugly. Her midnight hair draped around her shoulders like a glossy veil and her lab coat clung to her curvaceous figure. Necole’s brown eyes swirled with green flecks and her dark brown skin glistened under the fluorescent lights. I wondered how she could stand so long in those last season Prada heels. “It’s forbidden to create zombies by the clans and the accords we have with the grim reapers.”

Her answer might explain why the reaper was visiting the class. He must’ve been making sure we didn’t violate the treaty. I’d briefly studied reapers last semester, and they didn’t like our kind messing with the balance between life and death. Which meant he wasn’t a fan of necromancers.

Well, boohoo for him. I had to pass this class.

“Correct.” Professor Mortis walked past my group. “What exactly is a zombie? Anyone?”

“A soulless, mindless corpse,” Necole replied. “They are freakishly strong and have cannibalistic tendencies.”

A few students uttered disgusted grunts.

While Professor Mortis discussed the dangers of creating zombies, my attention went back to the reaper. He stopped at the chalkboard to examine the drawn runic symbols. Reaper must’ve collected a soul nearby, then stuck around campus. Since he was only observing, I hesitated to disrupt the class. And I’d have a hard time convincing anyone he was real if I was the only one who could see our ghostly visitor.

I decided to ignore him.

“Can a necromancer cure illness or heal injuries, Mr. Graves?” Professor Mortis asked.

“Not theoretically,” Daemon said. “We can resurrect a human, animal, or preternatural by creating revenants, once we have a license. Besides a few bizarre side effects, a revenant retains normal brain and organ function.”

The irksome reaper meandered across the room, no more than a misty shape. He cast a glance in my direction with a curious smile.

My jaw ached from how hard I was grinding my molars while I tried to tamp down on my annoyance.

Do not look at him. Maybe he’ll get bored and go away.

Professor Mortis strode to the front of the classroom. “For today’s exam, each student in your group will take a turn performing a resurrection on the cadaver, and then extinguish the life-force.”

Deep breathes. Everything hinged on this test. If I hoped to get a necromancy license, I had to pass with flying colors.

Our group of four turned toward the gurney to practice on the same corpse. The skin on the partially naked cadaver was sallow and his stomach bulged over a pair of faded, plaid boxers. A tag dangled from his left toe with the name, Harold Rotter. The flames of three candles—red, black, and green, the colors representing blood, death, and the afterlife—flickered at his head and hips. The corpse lay on a bed of hemlock, saffron, rose petals, henbane, and graveyard dirt, the standard ingredients used in a resurrection.

Reaper resumed a casual stroll with that amused grin still clinging to his lips. My irritation flamed hotter.

Don’t acknowledge him. Just get through this lab!

“Even the slightest variation can weaken the intent and the resurrection will backfire,” Professor Mortis warned. “Let’s begin.”

Acid scalded my stomach at the thought of bonding with a random corpse. Yet, if I wanted to practice necromancy, this exam was a requirement. The bonds between a necromancer and revenant were personal, special. Unlike with zombies, who only did our bidding, if one could successfully control them.

Since I’d been assigned to go first, I positioned my palms over the corpse’s chest. Shadow magic shivered through me—an icy, tingling sensation, like a cold wind on a brisk winter night. My hands glowed with a neon-green radiance, and the power made the body jerk as if it had been hit with defibrillator paddles.

“By my command, I resurrect the spirit of…” My voice died.

The shadowy reaper had moved closer. His chilling energy slammed into me. My heart froze, refusing to beat for several seconds, then banged against my ribcage. My magic faltered and waned.

Come on, Serena, don’t necromancy this up!

Necole elbowed me in the side, and I jumped, shooting her a glare.

She tapped an impatient foot. “You can’t lose focus during a resurrection.”

Necole was right. Not that I’d never tell her that. I couldn’t let Reaper distract me. My narrowed stare bore into his. Tilting my head, I jerked it at the door as if I had a convulsive twitch. My lab partners gave me sideways glances. Reaper ignored the subtle hint to leave.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Refocusing, I stared blankly at the body. What was the guy’s name? I couldn’t think clearly with that frustrating reaper watching me. The tag attached to the corpse’s toe caught my eye. Oh, yeah.

“Harold Rotter, now reenter the mortal plane.” Gritting my teeth, I held my hands over the human’s chest again. My power, like the biting chill of fresh snow, surged into the cadaver, channeling the soul back into its body. I had to unclench my jaw to recite the rest of the incantation. “Uh…flesh, life, breath be revived. I now order thee to arise!”

I lowered my arms, and the magic settled around me.

The other two groups had recited the same incantation without interruption. Their cadavers sucked in air and a lone streak of chartreuse colored their hair. Eyes popped wide and blinked. Each revenant sat up and swung their legs over the side of the gurney. They appeared confused and agitated. The students spoke in calming voices to put the revenants at ease, then offered them a slice of lime. One revenant poured himself a cup of lemonade and took a swig. An odd side effect of resurrection was a fondness for sour foods and a stripe of yellowish-green in their hair.

On our table, Harold Rotter didn’t move.

Necole folded both arms over her chest. Daemon frowned. Our other lab partner was texting on his phone, while we waited for the body to resurrect. And waited.

A swoosh of air ruffled my hair. The candles around the corpse blew out, smoke curling up from the wicks.

Necole huffed. “What’s your glitch, Serena? Relight the candles.”

Except I couldn’t move. Reaper stood on the other side of the gurney now. Our gazes locked. I gasped as his features became more discernible. For a moment, my brain shorted out.

The reaper’s short blond hair framed a breathtaking face, his skin the color of ivory. He had to be a foot taller than my five-six height, with a superhero jawline, ice-blue eyes, and a cheek dimple that was really working for him. Reaper’s muscular frame filled out a black three-piece suit over a crisp white shirt, and Prada loafers peeked from beneath the hem of his pants. The scythe in his hand had a curved blade, shiny and razor-sharp.

Hardly the black-cloaked, scythe-wielding personification of death I’d always envisioned. He was young and gorgeous and…smirking at me.

My cheeks warmed. I glanced at my lab partners, who appeared oblivious to the stylish reaper. He brought an index finger to his lips, and I fought the urge to kick him in the shins.

“Miss LeStrange? Is there a problem?” Professor Mortis asked, his voice tart from across the lab.

“No, sir.”

“You’ve screwed up the ritual,” Necole whispered. “If I lose any credits, I’m gonna hex you!”

Now I felt like kicking her.

“I’ll just perform it again,” I snapped, determined not to take any psycho from this chick.

The infuriating reaper cough-laughed into his fist. Jerk.

Professor Mortis stomped over to my group. “Why hasn’t your corpse resurrected?”

I tensed. “I’m not sure, sir. Give me a sec…”

Reaper dissolved into shadows, but I had a bad feeling he’d show up again.

Professor Mortis stopped in front of me with his back to the corpse on the gurney. I backed up a step as he faced me with a stern expression. “Miss LeStrange, I expected more from you. You come from a very prominent family, and yet, you seem to lack the necessary skills to achieve their level of excellence.”

A sense of shame coiled low in my gut. Before it could spread like poisonous fumes, I lifted my chin. The truth was, I might never reach my family’s legendary status. I wasn’t like anyone else and it only fueled my determination to prove myself.

Harold Rotter’s head popped up over the professor’s shoulder. His eyes were milky-white, and his mouth stretched into a grotesque sneer. His tongue swiped across blue lips and his gaze locked on Professor Mortis.

My stomach took a nosedive. Sweet smoldering sage. I hadn’t resurrected Harold Rotter.

No, I’d accidentally created a flesh-eating zombie.

Want to know what happens next?

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Macabre Mysteries ~ Character Fun Facts!

2020-05-03T10:40:00.008-07:00

Hi Everyone!

I hope you are doing well and staying safe. We are living in scary and bizarre times, and I find myself reading and writing a lot more than usual. I finished writing SHADOW MAGIC and both an ebook and paperback edition was published on May 1, 2020. I'm so excited for everyone to read my new book. As always, I hope you enjoy my brand of storytelling.

Happy reading,
~ Sherry

Ghost summoning? No biggie. Raising the dead? Bring it on. Solving my sister’s sudden disappearance? A bit more complicated…

I’m Serena LeStrange, a necromancer with a fondness for animals, who prefers to hide her freakishly fabulous skills from others. Only my sister makes me feel less of a weirdo, so when she mysteriously vanishes from college, I enroll at Macabre Academy to start my own investigation.

Except this is no ordinary school for the magically inclined, it’s home to all monsters—even the most dangerous ones. And after meeting an incredibly gorgeous vampire and a sinfully hot reaper, I find myself entangled in a passionate, yet forbidden, flirtation. To complicate matters, I get stuck with a ghostly genie sidekick and suspect a sinister sorority of misdeeds.

But to solve the mystery, I’ll need all the help I can get. Because someone at Macabre knows what happened to my sister, and I won’t stop until I dig up the truth. Unfortunately, some dark secrets prefer to stay buried.

CHARACTER FUN FACTS

Meet Serena LeStrange!
Supernatural powers: A necromancer that uses shadow magic.

Study: Resurrection 101. Serena hopes to be an animal resurrection expert someday, giving pets and familiars a second chance at life!

Looks: Blue hair, lapis lazuli eyes, peachy skin tone, height 5’6, and slender body.

Birthday/age: September 27th / 26 years old (Libra).

Favorite color: Black, blue, and purple.

Personality: Serena’s sensitive, clever, and quick-witted, but she can also be tense and restless. She doesn’t shy away from voicing her opinion. She is an instinctive investigator (amateur sleuth), with a knack for figuring out the truth. And as a natural chameleon, she can quickly recover from even the most shameful foot-in-mouth moments.

Favorite book: Heaven by V. C. Andrews because she can relate to the main character’s daddy issues.

Secret: Serena pretends to be a witch at Macabre, and she doesn’t want to join a clan.

Favorite things: Serena favors dark chocolate, moonlight walks, nocturnal creatures, and her favorite season is autumn.

Fashion Style: She always strives to look fashion-fierce! She usually wears a stylish black, V-neck shirt with a jean mini-skirt and Jimmy Choo biker boots beneath her lab coat. While she’s no fashionista, she’s a trendy necromantrix—dang it.

Weird flaws: Awkward around cute guys, likes graveyards, and hates being stared at by other necromancers because of her blue hair color.

Favorite activity: Binge-watching Netflix with her bestie, Gennie Jinn.

Pet Peeve: If anyone annoys her, she confronts them, which gets her into trouble.

Quirk: Serena collects soft fabric voodoo dolls and displays them on a shelf above her bed.

Favorite food: Pizza and strawberry ice cream!

Thank you so much for allowing me to chat up my new series. I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed this post. Now go feed your mind with a book. Preferably one of mine. :-D Read an excerpt of this novel HERE

What are you currently reading? Let me know in the comments!

2020 Social Media News Updates!

2020-01-28T11:11:00.003-08:00

Hi everyone!

Wow, I can't believe 2020 is here, can you? Last year seemed to fly by and I only published one book. 😥 But this year, I plan on publishing at least two or three. If you guys want to stay updated on my progress and any book giveaways, I have put together a list of social media sites where you can "follow" and/or "friend" me if you'd like.

Here are the best places to follow me where we can interact. :-)

If you log into your Amazon account, and visit my Amazon author profile, and then click the "FOLLOW" button below my profile photo, Amazon will let you know whenever I publish a new book.
Sherry Soule Amazon Profile: http://www.amazon.com/Sherry-Soule/e/B0104Y33KK

I am most active on Facebook lately, so please send me a friend request so we can chat and you'll be the first to know when my books go on sale. I chat a lot about my writing and other fun things that interest me.
"Friend" my Personal Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSherrySoule

I also have a page on Facebook where I share book giveaways and publishing updates with my readers. So if you have a second, please "Like" my Official Author Business Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SherrySouleWriter

On Facebook I also have a VIP reader group where I share free books, giveaways, and reader ARCs with the members. If you're interested, please join! Actually, I am offering a free read right now.
Sherry Soule's VIP Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/authorsherrysoule

I do post excerpts and free book giveaways on my blog, so please consider following here, too. In the sidebar of this site are several ways to subscribe/follow my blog. :-)

I created a new Twitter account, so please consider following me.
@SherrySoule13 on Twitter: https://twitter.com/SherrySoule13

I do have these other social media accounts, too.

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/sherry_soule

Tumblr: http://sherry-soule.tumblr.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sherrysoule13

For fun, I also have these really cool sites that you can visit, too!

Charmed Chronicles: https://charmedchronicles.blogspot.com

Fright Night Babble (Sloane's snarky online blog!): http://frightnightbabble.blogspot.com

Ravenwood, CA: http://ravenwood-ca.blogspot.com

Okay, guys, that's all from me this month. Have a wonderful day!

Happy reading,
~ Sherry

13 Scary Movies and Shows to Watch

2018-09-27T09:12:00.003-07:00

Happy Halloween!

So with October finally here, I'm going to post all my favorite horror films and TV shows. Except to me Halloween is not just a single night, but year-around nights of spooky awesome! :-)

Most of you who know me, know I'm a true horror fan. I have loved scary movies and TV series since forever. I don't read much horror fiction anymore, but I do read its subgenres like urban fantasy and paranormal romance.

But a good scary movie or TV show? Oh, yeah. I'm so there.

1) Let's start with the "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina," a new supernatural series developed by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa for Netflix based on his horror comic series. I read all the comics and enjoyed them, although they are a bit darker than the Netflix series. If you’re looking to fill a horror binge-watching void, then I recommend this show. And season 2 is even better than season 1!

I watched the 1990’s humorous sitcom “Sabrina, the Teenage Witch," but this revamped story is much more sinister and pure creeptastic horror.

Plot Summary: Sabrina Spellman (Kiernan Shipka) is preparing for her 16th birthday, with a Dark Baptism where she'll declare her devotion to Satan and gain immortality and power. But as a half-breed, Sabrina finds herself torn between two different worlds of good and evil. Sabrina must decide to pledge herself to the black arts or live as a mortal girl.

Wow. Decisions, decisions.

But hey, don’t let the devil worshipping keep you from enjoying this haunting and disturbing tale of humor, witchcraft, and romance.

One of the best things about "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina" (#CAoS) is the sets and decor. The settings in this series are incredible—very gothic and atmospheric. And I love how all the clothes, exterior buildings, and the interior sets have a 1960's look yet are also modern-day. The autumn earth tones of dark brown, vivid green, and bright crimson, along with the creeping fog throughout each scene really make the series have a dark ambiance. Plus, the show has tons of fun Easter egg nods to other classic horror TV shows and movies.

And I'm loving the Spellman Mortuary and Sabrina’s house in this series. The mansion somewhat reminds me of the Bates home, and it even has a spooky graveyard on the property. I want to live there! LOL It is all so inspiring to my own writing muse. :-)

2) For my very first spooktacular suggestion, I am going to highly recommend this Netflix original series, THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE, a modern-day adaptation of Shirley Jackson's 1959 novel.

I read the book years ago and I’ve seen the other two movies (meh), but nothing even comes close to this one. I think the writing (storytelling) is brilliant and the acting is exceptional. And some of the scenes are downright terrifying. This totally revamped storyline has some great plot twists, too.

Plot summary: This new storyline blends the terrors of a gothic haunted house with an intricate, multi-generational family drama that is set in flashbacks between the character’s childhood at Hill House and the aftermath as dysfunctional adults. The family, a couple with five children, move into the house in order to renovate and flip it. Instead of making a profit, they flee in the middle of the night, and the terrors that happened in that house haunts each child through adulthood.

I admit I have always had a morbid fascination with haunted house stories, and not so much with the ghosts, but the houses themselves. My favorite stories are the ones that take place in an old Gothic mansion on a forlorn estate with an eerie fog. Maybe that’s why I have so many scary houses in my own books. Anyway, this story delivers all my favorite scare tropes and then some!

If you enjoy a creepy, slow-burn ghost story, then you'll love this series. And if you don't have Netflix, I urge you to get a subscription because I have come to really love a lot of their original content.

This October won’t be complete without watching this series. But hey, don’t blame me if you have to sleep with a nightlight. :-)

3) INSIDIOUS is a 2010 supernatural haunted house film directed by James Wan, written by Leigh Whannell, and starring Patrick Wilson, Rose Byrne, and Barbara Hershey.

I love this movie, and all the slow-burn creepy, the malevolent entities haunting the family, and the unexpected plot twist. It is a very intense and spooky haunted house thrill ride. Yup, these storylines are my favorite to watch.💀

Plot summary: The frightening story of a family who, shortly after moving, discovers that dark spirits have possessed their home and that their son has inexplicably fallen into a coma. Trying to escape the haunting and save their son, they move again only to realize that it was not their house that was haunted...

If you're craving a good horror flick to watch, then I recommend this one!

4) I really love watching science-fiction horror. Two of my favs is the 1979 ALIEN and the 1992 sequel ALIENS, starring Sigourney Weaver, who is one of the best 'final girls' on screen.

Plot summary: the nail-biting terror begins when these space crews discover a deadly alien life-form. To survive, they must outsmart and escape the scaryass aliens.

I recommend watching both movies in the dark with a friend. Great special effects, phenomenal acting, and chilling suspense.

5) I didn't start watching the CW's SUPERNATURAL until season 5. One summer, I binge-watched the first 4 seasons on Netflix and I have been a fan ever since. It is the two main characters and the actor's chemistry that really drives this show. The series has plenty of creepy paranormal storylines blended with humor and drama, which makes the show so awesome. Plus, let's face it, the two stars, Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles are hunkalicious.

Plot summary: This haunting series follows the thrilling yet terrifying journeys of Sam and Dean Winchester, two brothers who travel throughout the country hunting supernatural creatures in their 1967 Chevy Impala.

While I love this show and the characters, I am getting really, really, really bored and sick of the angel story ARCs that feel as though they have been the focus of the last 4 or 5 seasons. I hope going forward that the writers come up with a fresh and unique evil villain for the brothers to fight. Please, no more angels. If you need ideas, feel free to contact me. :-)

Anyhoo, if you love supernatural-themed TV shows with great characters, I recommend giving this series a try. I don't think you'll be disappointed. If you're already a fan, please tell me in the comments what you love best about this series.

6) One of my all-time favorite scary films is the 2013 “MAMA,” a horror movie from executive producer Guillermo del Toro and director Andres Muschietti. I admit I made fun of the lame title, but when I watched it, I was blown away. The acting is so damn good, the two young actresses, Megan Charpentier and Isabelle Nélisse, are astounding and it has great performances by Jessica Chastain and Nicolaj Coster-Waldau. Sure, it has a few plot holes, but those are easily dismissed because of the chilling suspenseful, ghostly fun. I love films with a slow-scare-burn and this one delivers, plus I admit that I teared up watching the heartbreaking ending.

Plot summary: On the day that their parents die, sisters Lilly and Victoria vanish in the woods, prompting a frantic search by their Uncle Lucas and his girlfriend, Annabel. Five years later, the girls are found alive in a decaying cabin, and Lucas and Annabel welcome them into their home. But as Annabel tries to reintroduce the children to a normal life, she finds that someone, or something, has followed them home…

If you haven’t seen it yet, I recommend watching this movie if you are a horror fan. And if you have already seen it, please tell me what you thought. Loved it or hated it?

7) I want to chat about "HEREDITARY," a 2018 supernatural horror film written and directed by Ari Aster. I watched it with my son three days ago, and I'm still thinking about it.

Plot summary: When the matriarch of the Graham family passes away, her daughter's family begins to unravel cryptic and increasingly terrifying secrets about their ancestry.

I have to say, it is one of the best horror films that I've seen in years. Usually while watching something, I like to predict or guess what's happening or will happen. I pride myself on being able to figure out the plot. But I couldn't figure out a single one. This movie had so many twisty turns that were totally unpredictable that I was on the edge of my seat. I love when I'm watching something and think, "Holy crap. Did that just happen? I so did NOT see that coming."

I admit, I was bit confused by the ending so I had to look it up online, and when I did, it made sense but I wish it had been made a little clearer in the movie.

And normally, not much creeps me out, but after watching this film, I wanted to sleep with a nightlight and hold rosary beads. LOL

If you watch it, please let me know what you think and if it gave you chills, too.

8) Another one of my all-time favorite movies is the 1984 cult classic, "NIGHT OF THE COMET," which features 2 Final Girls. (I really wish there was a novelization of this movie to read.) Say what you will, but I think the 80's had some of the best movies ever. This film is a science fiction horror comedy by director and writer Thom Eberhardt, where he wanted to merge strong female protagonists with a post-apocalyptic flair.

Plot Summary: After a rare comet sighting, teenage sisters, Regina (Catherine Mary Stewart) and Samantha (Kelli Maroney), find that they're among the only survivors of a zombie outbreak. The girls partner with another survivor, Hector (Robert Beltran), but as they try to avoid the zombies, they're also being hunted by evil scientists...

If you haven't seen it yet, it is worth a watch if you like campy, lighthearted horror movies. It breaks a lot of 'horror rules" but that is one reason to admire this scary-lite end-of-the-world tale.

Just talking about it makes me want to shut the curtains, turn off the lights, and get comfy on my sofa with a blanket and a cat, then rewatch this movie. :-)

9) Next up, I am going to talk about a movie that my son and I love, which is I AM LEGEND, a 2007 post-apocalyptic science fiction drama, starring Will Smith and directed by Francis Lawrence, and also based on the novel by Richard Matheson.

I really love this film and Smith gives a mesmerizing performance. What I liked most about this story is that it is not your typical end-of-the-world tale and the zombies are not mindless, brain-munchers. (My son teared up when Neville's dog, Sam, was injured, but not so much when Neville faces death. Sorry, Will. 😊)

Plot Summary: In New York City, after a deadly virus originally created to cure cancer has wiped out most of mankind, it leaves a brilliant scientist, Robert Neville (Will Smith), as the last human in the city, other than nocturnal, zombie-like mutants. Neville is immune to the virus, and as he labors to develop a cure, he meets two survivors, while defending himself against the hostile mutants.

If you haven't seen this movie yet, what are you waiting for? It is a film of nail-biting suspense and well-worth watching. Did I mention it stars Will Smith? ’Nuff said.

10) Over the years, I have watched the 1968 “ROSEMARY’S BABY” film numerous times and also read the book by Ira Levin. It is definitely one of my favorite horror films directed by Roman Polanski and starring Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, and Ruth Gordon.

The acting is outstanding and the musical score eerily chilling. Even the apartment building Rosemary lives in has a morbid history, which I find interesting. And I love the theme song, a haunting lullaby composed by Krzysztof Komeda and sung by Mia Farrow.

Plot Summary: The film chronicles the story of a pregnant woman who suspects that an evil cult of witches wants to take her baby to use in their rituals.

It is truly one of the best supernatural thrillers ever made and I highly recommend watching it. The book and movie have been a big inspiration for my own spooky tales. :-)

11) No rest for the wicked, they say. The 1976 film, THE OMEN, is a supernatural thriller directed by Richard Donner and written by David Seltzer. The film has received high-acclaim from critics and was a commercial success.

This is hands-down, one of my top favorite horror movies. It is very fast-paced, with loads of spooky thrills and chills. (My favorite scene is in the graveyard with the men digging up the graves and the killer dogs. So scary!) I love the dark mood and chilling atmosphere, plus the acting performances are first-rate. Even watching it again gives me the major creeps.

Plot summary: American diplomat Robert (Gregory Peck) and his wife, Katherine (Lee Remick), have a stillborn child. Afterwards, the ambassador is talked into secretly adopting an orphaned infant. When Damien turns five years old, the horror begins with his nanny's dramatic suicide. As the death toll escalates and the mystery unravels, Robert realizes that his son is the actual antichrist.

So my fellow horror fans, I recommend watching this terrifying movie with a friend, and stay out of any old cemeteries after nightfall...

12) HAPPY DEATH DAY (2017) is a must-watch horror movie. It is an original and inventive rewinding thriller, where a college student relives the day of her murder until she discovers her true killer's identity.

Plot Summary: Tree Gelbman (Jessica Rothe) is a self-centered college student, who wakes up on her birthday in the dorm room of Carter Davis (Israel Broussard). As the morning goes on, Tree gets the eerie feeling that she's experienced the events of this day before and soon realizes that she is stuck in a twisted déjà vu time loop. When a masked killer takes her life in a brutal attack, she once again magically wakes up in Carter's dorm room unharmed. Now, the frightened young woman must relive the same day over and over until she figures out who murdered her.

I love this film and it is one of my faves! Great acting, awesome dialogue, and even some hilarious moments make this an awesome film.

13) Splice (2009) is a wonderfully, creepy sci-fi horror that is a new take on Frankenstein. I enjoyed the film because it kept me guessing and I couldn't predict what would happen next. You need a whole lotta of suspicion of disbelief, but the storyline has enough emotional depth and twisty turns to make it one one of favorite monster movies.

Plot Summary: Geneticists Clive (Adrien Brody) and Elsa (Sarah Polley) specialize in creating hybrids of species. When they propose the use of human DNA, their pharmaceutical company bosses forbid it, forcing them to conduct experiments in secret. The result is Dren (French actress Delphine Chanéac), a creature with amazing intelligence and physical attributes. At first, Dren exceeds their wildest dreams, but as she begins to grow at an accelerated rate, she threatens to become their worst nightmare.

What are some of your favorite scary movies or TV shows? Let me know in the comments!

Living a Postivie Writer's Life!

2018-07-23T16:20:00.001-07:00

Today I’m feeling somewhat empowered and I think it’s because I've made some awesome new friends and I’m feeling encouraged. I feel positive and happy and lighter this morning. But I know some of you are going through your own personal-struggles, so this post is for you…

Sometimes we all need to remind ourselves of our own inner-strength. That each one of us has the courage and determination to overcome any difficulties. Those are NOT what define us. Those are what show us how truly amazing and strong we are even when we think we’re not going to make it to the other side. That we will get through the hard times, and that for whatever reason, I think we were meant to go through these struggles and heartaches.

Like the saying, “Tough times never last, but tough people do…” You are that tough person.

Maybe surviving the difficult times in our lives is so that we can have more empathy for others, or be able to help someone else with compassion and love who is suffering from a similar situation, and we can relate because we’ve been through it.

Personally, I’ve been through a lot of hardship in my own life: health issues, my daughter’s illness, divorce, depression/anxiety, financial worries, loss of jobs (I got laid off from 3 jobs within a 2 year period) and yeah, now I have ghostly problems to deal with, but I know in my heart that I’ll get through this, too.

Perhaps some of your own personal struggles will even help you become a better writer and create more sympathetic characters.

Here are a few quotes to brighten your day and lift your spirits. Have a fabulous week!

“You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” ~A.A. Mine, Author/Poet

“Optimism is a happiness magnet. If you stay positive good things and good people will be drawn to you.” ~Mary Lou Retton, Gymnast

#positivevibes #positivequotes #positive #positivity ##positivelife #positivenergy #positivethinking #positivemind #positivethoughts #positivemindset #positiveattitude

LOST IN STARLIGHT ~ Sci-Fi Romance

2017-11-07T14:39:00.005-08:00

💫High school drama meets forbidden love in this interstellar romance!💫

Don’t miss this epic blend of paranormal romance and sci-fi intrigue. Perfect for fans of Twilight and Roswell!

Senior year is tough. Crushing on a gorgeous, possibly unearthly outcast? That’s a whole new level of complicated!

Sloane Masterson, high school newspaper reporter, has a knack for sniffing out stories that are stranger than fiction. When she’s not dishing out snark in her wicked cool column—Fright Night Babble—where she chats about cliches in horror films, she’s busy scooping her next big story. Her latest obsession? The enigmatic and swoon-worthy Hayden Lancaster.

But Hayden’s not your average high school hottie. When Sloane catches Hayden defying the laws of physics, her reporter instincts kick into hyperdrive. It seems his superhuman abilities are literally out of this world. (And no, it’s not just his uncanny ability to rock skinny jeans.)

Suddenly, unmasking the truth becomes her top priority—right after over-analyzing why he makes her heart do backflips. Yet, learning Hayden’s secret might be more than Sloane bargained for—and even more dangerous for her heart. Because despite Hayden’s insistence that their relationship stays in the friend zone, their fierce attraction threatens to go supernova.

And there’s a cosmic catch (isn’t there always?): if they follow their hearts, there are dire consequences—like his intergalactic enemies permanently erasing Sloane’s memories faster than you can say “alien abduction.” (Talk about an otherworldly relationship hurdle!)

Now Sloane faces a choice more challenging than picking the perfect scary movie for a first date: protect herself, or forget the boy she loves forever.

Is this star-crossed romance worth potentially losing her mind over? (Spoiler: It just might be!)

BUY A COPY TODAY FROM AMAZON!

READ AN EXCERPT OF CHAPTER ONE

I don’t usually stalk boys, but if I hadn’t been spying on Hayden Lancaster, I never would’ve seen the mind-blowing fork-bending incident.

I scoot back the creaky plastic chair and rest my chin on my fist. Lunch hour is the best time to study my classmates undetected. Especially the tall, hot, and broody ones.

Not that I’m a bad person. Honest. I’ve never narked on anyone. I don’t kick puppies. And I normally don’t play at undercover agent. Well...until today.

“Are you scoping out a new story?” My best friend, Viola Saks, shifts in her seat, her nose stuck in a horror novel.

Viola prefers her book boyfriends over real guys, and I gotta admit, she has a point. Fictional hotties seem way more exciting than real boys.

“Yup. But right now, I’m only observing,” I lie. “People watching.”

Tiny white lie. I’m secretly kicking off Operation Lancaster.

Haven High’s cafeteria is the perfect spot to catch up on gossip, observe clique wars, and witness any mean girl activity. This is where I discover the most newsworthy stories.

As two girls pass our table, one of them bumps my chair without apologizing. To me, the lunchroom is more than just a place to chow down on industrial-grade food. It reminds me of a prison scene, with its hostile mingling and violent chaos, like inmates at mealtime. Saying the cafeteria is only for eating is like saying an underground lair is only for villains plotting world domination. If you can survive a high school lunchroom, then you can survive anything. Well, with the exception of a zombie apocalypse.

The double-doors swing open and in walks Hayden Lancaster, chin held high. Next to him is his younger brother, Zach, bouncing a basketball with one hand and drinking a soda with the other. Hayden’s eyes are trained directly ahead, as the brothers stride across the crowded room and take seats at an empty table.

About time. The focus of my new article has finally arrived. Opening my purse, I get out my Hello Kitty spiral-bound notebook and pen. Now I’m ready.

The Lancaster brothers are both gorgeous in a way that should be totally illegal, but look nothing alike. Zach is a cocky, dark-haired, all-round jock, and Hayden is the quiet, rockstar-sexy, drummer-type. He’s one of those guys who prefers to function in his own little world. And I’ll admit that I sure wouldn’t mind a starring role on his planet.

I’m not sure which social group the Lancaster boys actually fit into. Maybe the misunderstood-brooding-guys club? I jot that down in my notebook.

While Viola’s reading her book, I covertly look over at Hayden sitting three tables away from mine. He’s six feet tall, and lean, yet muscular. The times we’ve passed each other in the halls, his eyes are usually narrowed as if he knows an intriguing secret. Today, Hayden’s wearing a dark blue short-sleeved, button-up shirt with faded skinny jeans, a studded belt, and scuffed Etnies. On one arm, he has several black rubber bracelets. Nothing too unusual about him. Except for one very odd feature.

Hayden has two different colored eyes. He turns his head and his light brown fauxhawk falls over his forehead in a messy yet somehow deliberate way, landing over his one strikingly blue eye. The other one is green. Besides the rare heterochromia iridis, he seems to be just another smokin’ hot brainiac.

Flipping open my notebook, I write: Startling eye color and member of the wickedly cool Hair Club. Check.

Wait. Why am I thinking about how über hot he is? Seriously not important.

Viola lowers her book a fraction. “You’re totally staring at the Lancasters.”

“I’m not staring.”

“Oh, right, you’re observing.” She tilts her head. “Most girls can’t resist guys like them. They have that...”

“Incredibly sexy quality?”

“Well, there’s that. But I was gonna say, dangerous vibe going,” Viola says.

I pull out a bag of celery from my lunchbox. “Yeah, I guess.”

Maybe I should write that down. Sexy bad-boys. Check.

She points at my lunch. “Your mom on that health food kick again?”

“Yup.”

“She’s like the damn food police. I’m glad my mom’s not like that.” Viola reaches out a slender arm to nab a French fry and shove it into her mouth.

“How are you supermodel thin when you eat stuff like that?” I groan and glance at her slim figure clad in a skintight black dress with thigh-high boots. “I could eat only yogurt for the rest of my life and I’d still be your chubby sidekick.”

She scoffs. “You’re not chubby, Sloane. You’re extra curvy.”

“Whatevs. Guess that’s just what people always say when you’re a foodie like me.”

Viola’s flicks a page of her book. “So what’s this article on?”

I clear my throat. “Actually, I’m investigating Hayden Lancaster.”

“Should be interesting.” One brown eye peeks over the edge of the paperback. “Any particular reason?”

“Because of this hacker rumor going around. The gossip this morning was off the hook. Supposedly, Hayden hacked into the school’s computer system over the weekend to change some grades. School administrators are saying that they’ll probably need a day just to block any security breaches.”

She straightens, lowering her book. “That’s odd. Isn’t he on the honor roll? Why would he need to alter his grades?”

I shrug. “Beats me. Maybe he was doing it for someone else.”

For a reporter with the school’s online newspaper the Haven Gazette, a hacker scandal is way huge. Since my college resume is in dire need of some padding, this assignment was just too juicy to pass up. Plus, a front-page byline will look much more impressive in a hardcore journalism-type of way than my own wicked cool column—Fright Night Babble—where I mainly review and chat about horror films.

My gaze strays back to the brothers as I sip my drink. I can tell by Hayden’s jerky head movements that the brothers are engrossed in a heated discussion. Somebody’s not a happy camper. Hayden’s flawless skin reddens, and Zach’s square jaw clenches.

Dang it. I’m too far away to read their lips.

Mid-rant, Hayden scoots his chair back, the metal legs squeaking on the linoleum floor. He slides his cell phone out of his pocket and reads the screen, then scratches the stubble on his cheek with a frown. Zach tries to grab the phone, but Hayden shoves it back into his pocket.

“You dumped her, Bro?” Zach practically shouts, a small silver hoop in his ear glints in the light.

Hayden’s hands curl into fists. “Will you stop making a big thing out of it!”

Viola and I exchange a look. For a minute, the entire cafeteria falls silent.

“Whoa.” She points a fry at the brothers. “I wonder what Hayden and Zach are fighting about. And who got dumped?”

“Sounds like it’s over some girl. I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend.”

But it would seem that he’s a free man now. Interesting…

“Neither did I. As far as I know, Zach and Hayden have never dated any of the girls at this school.” Viola sighs. “Like they think they’re too good for us or something.”

I slam my juice box down on the table, purple liquid shooting out of the straw. “Maybe that’s because everyone’s so damn cliquey at this school. It’s just wrong, the way the other kids treat them,” I say. “Did you hear? Someone jacked up Hayden’s locker again with spray paint.”

I’m beyond disgusted by some of my classmates’ Neanderthal moves.

“Then maybe you should investigate who keeps screwing with the Lancasters. Hayden and Zach can’t help being sexy and brilliant.” Viola is an advocate for social justice in high school, and totally reading my mind. “Besides, if Hayden got away with the hacking incident, there’s no real story, and you probably won’t find any credible sources to verify the allegation.”

I bite off the end of a celery stalk. “Are you kidding me? There’s a story here—I can feel it.”

“If you say so, but be careful. That boy’s getting a serious rep.”

“True. Except, I think he’d prefer to fly under-the-radar. Although it’s a little late now,” I say. “Hayden’s become infamous overnight. But the hacking isn’t the weird part...” I lean closer and lower my voice. “My sources say that Hayden walked away with only a slap on the wrist. No expulsion or suspension, not even Saturday detention. Who gets away with stuff like that?”

She rolls her eyes. “He does, apparently.”

“But why? How? These are things I need to know.”

Viola sticks a bookmark in her novel. “Whaddya got on Hayden so far?”

I push my hair—originally blonde, and now dyed a black and purple—out of my eyes and scan my notes. “Oh, well, not much. Just that the Lancasters moved to the island about six months ago. Hayden’s a senior and antisocial, and Zach’s a junior and on the basketball team. I heard that Hayden was booted from his last school in Modesto and he did a stint in juvie. Should be pretty hard to get in that kind of trouble around here.”

“Agreed.” She smiles teasingly. “We seem to be short on our quota of cute psychos.”

I roll my eyes. Viola goes back to reading, and I go back to observing. I busy myself by searching through my purse for something, but glance out the corner of my eye at the Lancaster brothers.

Hayden’s gesturing with his hands in a harassed way. The ropey stomach muscles beneath his tight shirt flex across his midsection with each movement. And I’ll bet my collection of George A. Romero DVDs that he has rock-hard abs.
Zach grunts loudly and twirls the basketball on one finger. Hayden looks around nervously, his shoulders hunched. Even from a short distance, the boy looks mouthwatering good.

When his extraordinary eyes lock onto mine, an unfamiliar thrill shoots through my veins. Then Hayden stiffens and his eyes harden into dichromatic chips of ice.

Although I’m obviously busted, I can’t look away. The thump of my galloping heartbeat thunders in my ears. There’s a wariness lingering in his expression that I don’t understand. My body temperature rises as if ignited by kerosene. Finally, I’m able to tear my gaze away.

Then a fierce spark of panic hits hard. Is my hair tangled? My pencil skirt unzipped? Lip gloss on my teeth?

Pulling a quick ninja hair inspection, I look out the nearby window while surreptitiously using the reflection to ensure that my flyaway hair looks tame. I sweep a hand around my waist to check my zipper, and then run my tongue over my teeth. All good. I grip the hem of my black tee under my leather jacket, the silver studded leather cuff on my wrist digging into my stomach, and yank it down. Much better.

Embarrassing situation averted.

Swallowing hard, I shift in my seat. I need a minute to calm down, so I stare at my notebook, picking invisible lint from the wire spiral. The peculiar feeling in my chest gradually shrinks, as if a vacuum is sucking the swirling emotions from my body.

A few seconds—that seem like hours—pass before I gather the nerve to look over at the Lancaster’s table again. Thankfully, Hayden is back to arguing with his brother.

“You know, this story is actually the perfect excuse to get closer to a guy you’ve been crushing on for the last few months,” Viola says.

More like six months, four days, and thirteen hours. But who’s counting?

“This is just for the paper. Someone has to write it,” I say casually, although a part of me is secretly thrilled at the prospect of getting the inside scoop on Hayden Lancaster.

Right now he’s only a news story. Never mind the fact that a mere glance from the teen Adonis turns my insides into a quivering mass. I have to remember I’m a professional. I got this. And like any great journalist, I must note every detail, so I jot down: Hayden: hacker and computer geek. Check.

“Doing anything fun this weekend?” Viola asks.

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m on babysitting duty.”

“Again? That blows. Your dad still out of town?” She grabs a fry off her plate and sticks it into her mouth.

“Yup. Which means I’m stuck looking after the menace my parents spawned.”
“I think your little brother’s cute.”

I spear Viola with a steady gaze. “He doesn’t live with you.”

She laughs. “Maybe I shouldn’t complain about being an only child.”

“You got that right.”

“I said no!” Hayden’s sharp tone carries across the room. He thumps his fist on the table so hard a bowl of potato salad topples over.

Zach’s eyes narrow to slits and his face darkens. He leans toward his brother and speaks in a hushed tone. Hayden clutches a stainless steel fork in his left hand. He blows out a frustrated breath and nods at whatever Zach’s saying to him.

I quickly add to my notebook: Hayden’s a lefty and brings his lunch to school. Check.

When I look up, my eyes widen. Hayden’s ears are bright red and his whole body tenses, as if he wants to punch his smartass sibling. Suddenly the metal fork clenched in his fist folds in half, like it’s made out of pliable, soft plastic.

Pause. Rewind. What the hell?

My jaw practically hits the table. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. Did that fork really just flop over like a warm Hershey bar?

I blink and look again. Everything inside me screams to deny it, but really, how can I? The twisted stainless steel proof is right there in front of me. The deformed fork is still clenched tightly in his hand like a beacon of unreality.

Hayden—sexy-lone-wolf—suddenly went from stoic recluse to wicked interesting hottie.

Frantically, I draw a bent fork in my notebook and write: Hayden can somehow bend metal objects. Check.

My stomach churns. This is way too bizarre, even for me. Maybe I’ve been sucked into some freaky SyFy original movie. Because this kind of epic weirdness usually only happens in the movies, not in real life.

I look at Viola. She’s still absorbed with her novel and no one else seems to have noticed the fork bend in half.

I bump her with my shoulder. “Did you see that?”

She doesn’t look up from her book, but a few strands of glossy black hair tickle the pages. “No. What?”

With a trembling hand, I reach out and touch Viola’s arm, desperate for an anchor in the midst of such improbability. It’s as if a door has burst open to some strange new world.

Viola lowers the paperback. “Sloane, what’s wrong? You look paler than usual.”

What can I say that won’t sound batshit crazy? That I saw Hayden doing—what? Using some mystical-type mojo?

Before I utter a word, Hayden drops the fork onto the table with a clatter and stiffly crosses his arms. My body twitches with the sudden urge to snatch it up for a closer inspection. Zach grabs it and tosses the warped utensil behind him in the trash. They continue to argue in low tones.

Now the evidence is gone, and if I try to explain, my best friend might accuse me of rocking the crazy pants. It’s probably not a good idea to make a scene in front of the whole school. This can wait.

“Never mind. I’m fine,” I mumble.

Hayden pushes away from the table and storms out of the cafeteria. Grabbing my phone from my bag and pretending to listen to a voicemail, I scoot back my chair and speed-walk across the room to stand by the windows. Hayden marches over to the closest tree and slams his fist into the bark. Talk about anger issues. Shaking out his hand, he stalks toward the parking lot, which probably means he’s cutting his next class.

Unless I go digging through the trash for that fork, I will need additional proof that something is off about Hayden Lancaster. It seems the computer hacking is just the tip of the iceberg.

I return to my seat and scan my notes. Now that I think about it harder, Hayden and Zach look like typical teens, but they’re almost too perfect. Extremely attractive. Very athletic. And wicked smart. Now, the fork mutilation.
Too freakin’ weird to ignore.

Viola leans over my shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m keeping a list.”

She frowns. “Huh?”

“My observations on Hayden for a possible scandalous article.”

“Lemme see that.” She snatches the notebook from my hands and flips through the pages like a cop checking notes. “I think the salad your mom is forcing you to eat is warping your brain.”

“Get serious.”

When Viola finishes, she hands me the notebook and says lightly, “I’d say vampire, but he can go out in daylight. A relative of Superman?”

My pulse races at the idea of him being something otherworldly.

“Huh. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe he is a fledgling superhero…” I jot that in my notebook, and then vehemently cross it out. “Nah. Hayden’s a computer geek. Doubt he’d make much of a crusader.”

Viola dips a limp fry into her ketchup. “Then he’s a villain.”

The bottom falls out of my stomach. Who the heck is this guy? And what if his whole scowly bad-boy act isn’t just an act?

Leaning back, I resolve to do what any good journalist would do—I’ll go stalking for answers.

The pen in my hand slightly trembles as I write: Proceed with caution. Check.

Do like Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance?

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Sign up for my newsletter to get this Free eBook "Romance After Dark" and get a glimpse into an four exciting and romantic worlds filled with heart-pounding suspense!

Love Triangle Tropes in Fiction

2017-09-19T12:20:00.004-07:00

I get why some people might be sick of the love triangle tropes in TV shows and books, but they don't bother me.

Because I like love triangles. The great ones can add spicy drama and juicy suspense while the heroine, along with the reader, tries to figure out which boy the heroine will choose. Plus, having the heroine hanging with two different hot guys can reveal differing sides of her personality as she interacts with each one in various scenarios.

For me, I like some romance in my books, movies, and TV series. It can be a little or a lot, but I prefer storylines with romance. Sure, I’ve read a few novels and watched shows that I’ve enjoyed without any romance, but the ones most dear to my heart are the ones with romantic elements.

And I recognize that the “love triangle” is a fairly common trope in paranormal romance books. I have love triangles in the Charmed Chronicles and in the Macabre Academy series.

Most writing advice states to write what you like to read, and I enjoy love triangles in my fiction, in both young adult and adult novels, as well as in the TV shows and movies that I watch. I take pleasure in reading about those conflicted, gorgeous, funny, sexy, yet more than a little bit flawed characters that compete for the heroine’s heart. I think the tempting attraction, the lustful yearnings, and even the forbidden love trope can be enthralling for readers ans fans of TV shows, too.

The conflict, the indecision, the crazy jealousy can be suspenseful and thrilling. I personally love guessing whom the heroine will choose, and how the two male leads both compete for her heart. So, my readers should expect even more serious romantic intrigue in my future publications.

I enjoy books that sizzle off the pages with romantic conflict and keep the reader flipping sides.

It’s a tough decision for a heroine to make between the strong bonds of lust and the passionate connection she shares with the other male.

And the best part? I am going to let my readers vote on who they’d like to see my heroines choose in the end. I, of course, will make the final decision, but reader’s can have some say in helping the heroine(s) and me decide whom to finally give her heart to...either the brooding and charming bad-boy or the flawed and heroic alpha male.

Let me know in the comments which team you're on now and why!

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WITCHY WICKEDNESS ~ YA Urban Fantasy

2017-08-27T19:39:00.015-07:00

Seeking to fill that Buffy-sized hole in your heart?

Read the Chilling Adventures of Shiloh, a teenage witch struggling to live in two very different worlds: surviving high school with it's teen angst and dating, and her hellish destiny, hunting the things that go thump in the night.

YA URBAN FANTASY by Sherry Soule

One soul-sucking demon. One haunty mansion. And one witch-tastic destiny…

Ravenwood, California isn’t like other coastal towns. It’s a mystical place, where the teenagers inexplicably disappear and the fog hides chilling secrets. And Shiloh Saintcrow isn’t like other girls—she’s a teen witch who can sense the things that go bump in the night.

After Shiloh gets a visit from a shadowy demon, threatening to steal her family’s spellbooks, her life quickly spirals into one of unending weirdness and danger. As if life isn’t complicated enough, she takes a job at the local haunted house, where she meets the sinfully hot Trent Donovan and his ghost-hunting uncle, Mr. Evans.

When another teen vanishes, Shiloh’s forced to team up with Evans to solve the mystery, but their investigation only uncovers a shocking truth about Ravenwood’s founding families. But before she can expose the town’s ominous secret, Shiloh has to evade a kooky ghost on a revenge haunt, contain the scary dark power tainting her magick, and survive attacks by a pack of creeptastic demons first.

For poor Shiloh, life’s a real witch

EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Since my thirteenth birthday three years ago, I’d seen things in the shadows—ominous, twisting shapes, slithering through the night. Scary things that didn’t belong in our world, like ghosts, demons, and a whole host of other nasties. Whenever I’d catch a glimpse of their crimson eyes or sharp claws, I’d wish for an elsewhere to be.

Like anywhere, other than Ravenwood, California.

Shifting on the bed, I glanced at my cell phone where I’d been scrolling through my Instagram feed and hearting cat memes, then closed the app.

Normally, I felt safe during the day with all the lights on, but when I sensed a low-voltage hum floating in the air and vibrating the floor with a supernatural energy, a wave of unease washed over me like icy rain.

The nightstand lamp, the desk light, and the floor lamp in the corner blinked off and on. The flames of the candle-infested dresser flickered. The raised blinds over the closed windows eerily fluttered.

Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. Nothing to—

Dark shadows slithered along the wall. These small demonic creatures—darklings—avoided the light, murmuring in an eerie language.

My jaw clenched tight. “Sheesh, is it too much to ask for a couple hours of non-paranormal activity?”

Somehow, those shadowy creatures had gotten past the supernatural safeguards protecting the house. The ones I’d just reinforced last night. Apparently not good enough.

Let’s just say, even though I was witch, paranormals and me weren’t besties. No, not like Hermione or Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, but close—I was more like Shiloh, the teen with much witch-attude. Even my aunt and my mother were witches. In fact, all of the females in the Broussard family had magickal roots, but I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Not even my best friend or my dad because outsiders would never understand my aunt had said. It was forbidden and people feared what they couldn’t rationalize she’d said. I’d rolled my eyes at the time, but I realized pretty quickly that she’d been right.

Halloween witches were acceptable. Real witches? Not so much.

When the darklings reached the floor, I slid off the rumbled bed, my bare feet touching the cold hardwood. “Get the hell outta my room! Before I hex your shadowy butts.”

I glanced down at my clothes. Huh. Guess that would’ve sounded a whole lot tougher if I wasn’t wearing my black cat printed PJ top and polka-dotted drawstring shorts.

The darklings trickled like spilled ink into the cracks of the floorboards and disappeared.

“Just craptacular.”

Now I had to hunt them down. I squatted to check underneath the bed, then under the nightstand. No signs of evilness. I went around the bed to peek below the wicker chair smothered with discarded clothing. Nothing.

Passing the closed bedroom door, I crouched to look beneath the dresser, and then the battered desk littered with unfinished homework. I even lifted the circular vintage rug, but the darklings had temporarily vanished.

The opposite side of the room had two windows facing the backyard, with a dusty bookshelf between them, and the raised blinds let the midmorning sunlight glare into the space. A mound of clothes slouched in the corner, and stuffed animals crouched below a windowsill.

The lightbulbs blinked and the candle flames flickered. I listened hard.

Inhuman mutterings came from the closet, and I whirled around. “Oh, shut up!”
Stomping to the closet, I kicked the door open. On tiptoes, I stretched over the threshold to grasp the brass chain, and gave it a yank. Light illuminated shoes piled on the floor and an overflowing laundry basket. Dusty board games cluttered the shelf, and haphazardly hanging clothes swayed on the bar. Fuzzy bunny slippers stared upward with glassy button eyes.

With hands on my hips, I turned and scowled at the room. “Where are you hiding?”

Suddenly, the lightbulbs exploded, raining shards of glass onto the floor. My pulse jumped. Then the blinds dropped downward, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

The only source of light, the flickering candle flames.

The darklings reappeared from under the rug, covering the floor like an opaque stain. Red eyes gleamed from their shadowy forms. They murmured in anxious voices, almost like a warning, “Shiloh, Shiloh…”

In a corner by the nightstand, a mass of blackness, solid and vertical, detached itself from the shadows. The entity pulsated and churned like a spatter of crude oil until it nearly touched the ceiling. The odor of sulfur, musty and acrid, filled the room. Power surged through the upper-level demon as he swelled into a seething maelstrom of dark energy.

Bile rose in my throat. This was insane. Paranormals usually avoided me, or I used magickal shields to block them. But this monstrous entity?

Well, it was the scary-as-hell-demonic type that I’d read about in the grimoires, and obviously not so easily scared off by sixteen-year-old witches with mediocre talents.

A growl came from the demon, and the darklings shrank back, blending into the dim corners like frightened children.

When scary things get scared—so not good.

The demon’s reptilian features fought to become corporeal. Muscles expanded over bones of shiny obsidian, smooth and razor-sharp. The entity throbbed and coalesced into scaly, dark green lizard skin, more sinuous than flesh. Heat, like the breath of a dragon, emanated from the seven-foot-tall demon. Once be become more solid, his appearance looked partially humanoid. He had no hair, a flat snout, and luminousness yellow eyes. Black pants covered his lower-half and his bare feet had webbed toes.

I stumbled sideways, my knees buckling. My hip whacked the desk, blood roaring in my ears.

The demon flexed his hands. “Greetings, Thirteenth Daughter.”

My scalp prickled with sweat. It wasn’t as if I were some girly-girl afraid of her own shadow, but when they had glowing eyes and spoke to me…well, I majorly freaked.

“W-what? You’ve got the wrong person,” I said, my voice croaking. “Seriously. So you can just go back to your Hell dimension.”

“Gee, isn’t this interesting. It seems you don’t know the truth. Then let me enlighten you, little lamb.” He tilted his baldhead. “You were offered, and I wholeheartedly accepted.”

I backed up a step. “Um, I’m thinking your reality check bounced.”

He sniffed the air. “You make jokes to hide your fear, but I can sense the terror filling your veins like sweet nectar.”

Until this morning, when this upper-level demon and the darklings had broken through the wards, I’d been able to stay clear of anything I couldn’t handle or scare off the less threatening paranormals, but this changed—everything.
Showing up in my bedroom without an invite? So not cool.

“Before we get all personal,” I said, “do you have a name?”

“Irrelevant,” he said.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Irrelevant.”

“If you must, then you may call me Nocturne.” He stayed in the corner away from the windows, glancing at all the lamps and candles cluttering the room. “Hmmm, I do find it so very disappointing that a girl of your unique talents is afraid of the dark. I would think by now, you’d be embracing it since you are bound to me.”

“Say what? I-I don’t even know what you’re talking, Mr. Nocturne—”

“I am no mister. I am death! I am immortal! I am a terror!” He bellowed. “And you, dear child, bear the devil’s mark. We share a malignant bond. I will prove it.” He pointed at my scarred arm with a devious smile.

A blast of scorching pain, as if I’d plunged my arm into scalding water, struck the scar. Sucking in a breath, tears filled my eyes. The puckered flesh, paler than the color of my olive skin, was hard not to notice. The scar snaked a line from elbow to wrist like a crooked seam. I ran my fingers over the raised ridges and jagged edges.

“Exciting, isn’t it? Being bound to a demon of my stature? You have no idea how darkly special you are. How you’ve been chosen by the coven for a glorious purpose. Your death shall become legend…”

My back pressed into the wall beside the desk, as if I couldn’t put enough distance between the scary Nocturne and myself. “What does that mean? What coven? Who sent you?”

“Not Lucifer, if that’s what you’re assuming. I am an agent of the Underworld, but my duties are mostly ceremonial. Just the occasional goat sacrifice or damnation of a human soul, that sort of thing. I try to stay out of politics. You, on the other hand, have a genuine devil’s mark—a vessel of delectable evil. Yes, you are special indeed.”

“It’s only a scar,” I whispered, holding my arm against my chest as if I were a bird with a tattered wing.

“Tsk, tsk. I think you know that it isn’t true.” Nocturne lowered his arm and his inhuman voice sounded resonant and sinister, like the threat of a snake before it strikes. “Debts must be paid.”

My mouth went dry. “I-I don’t owe you anything. So please just forget about this bound, debt thing.”

I kept an eye on the darklings with their onyx hands, arms, and flashes of red eyes. Their shadowy forms continually moved, sliding under the bed in a twisted game of peek-a-boo.

“Gosh, well, an oath between a Nocturne and a hecate can never be broken. How would it look if I went around breaking my promises, young witch?”

I had no clue what he was talking about, and I instinctively knew he wasn’t the monster to ask. I just wanted the demon the hell out of my room.

“Maybe you teleported into the wrong house. You know, there’s this weird lady up the street with a hairy mole and pointy shoes. Why don’t you try her?”

Nocturne stood unnaturally still and ignored my snark. “Did you know that demon essence is better than Wheaties? It has all the nutrients a growing witch needs.”

“Oh, is that so?” I searched the room frantically. “Thanks, but, uh, I’ve already had breakfast.”

Okay, focus.

No weapons. Only a pair of dull scissors on the desk. My gaze darted to the bottle of holy water on the bookshelf, then at the closed blinds. Sunlight might be my only ally. If I lifted the blinds, the sun’s rays would turn the demon into a crispy-critter. At least that was the hope.

He clasped his hands together. “This tête-à-tête has been vaguely amusing, but it has gone on long enough.”

My breathing stuttered. Oh, god. He was going to kill me.

Okay, deep breath. Do the calm thing. The non-freaking out thing.

Nocturne blocked the door. No escape there. The demon’s yellow eyes narrowed and he stepped closer.

Well, hell. Instead of cowardly screaming, I’d try the brave thing.

“Kiss some daylight, demon!”

Rushing forward, I seized the bottle of holy water on the bookshelf. I twisted off the lid and hurled the contents at his face. He shrieked as steam rose from his burning scalp.

A trickle of holy water splashed onto my skin and the scar seared with pain like a horde of wasps had stung me.

Stumbling, I fell to my knees, gripping the ledge of the nearest windowsill. A surge of magical energy shook my limbs, crackling with power. “Please open…”

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