A Message from Carole Gill

I write stories of the paranormal, horror, and love. I'm the creator of Louis Darton, a strong vampire with a dark, tortured past. Come journey with me as I help Louis find love and fight his ultimate nemesis, the evil, demonic Eco.

Know what I want to do? I want to take gothic romance where it's never been! I want to shock and thrill you and leave you wanting more.

The battle between good vs. evil is central to my fiction and there is no fudging over the evil. Evil is evil. There can be love as well or even just the hope of love, but whatever there is, my fiction is never predictable. I don't think fiction should be.

If readers want darkest gothic horror with romantic elements, then look no further!

Thursday, 30 June 2011

Virtual Book Tour July 4 - 29th!




Yes! It's my virtual book tour and it begins July 4th!

Nurture Book Tour - The House on Blackstone Moor Tour!


I will remind folks of each tour stop the day before and on the day, don't worry!

The House on Blackstone Moor official tour!
 Extended Dates – Due to Popular Demand!!

with NURTURE Virtual BOOK Tourz™ NURTURE Book Tour Schedule:

REMEMBER TO CHECK FOR LIVE LINKS FOR EACH STOP ON THE DAY AT NURTURE YOUR BOOKS:

http://nurtureyourbooks.com/vbtblog/?p=938


  • July 4th – Bobbie @ NURTURE Virtual BOOK Tourz™ Blog
  • July 5th – Jaidis S. @ Juniper Grove
  • July 6th – Grace E. @ History, Romance and CATS!
  • July 7th – Stephanie G. @ ¡Miraculous!
  • July 8th – Norma W. @ Wakela’s World
  • July 11th – Beverly G. @ Everyone Loves A SiNner
  • July 12th – April R & Wendy @ My Book Addiction and More!
  • July 13th – Farrah K. @ The Book Faery Reviews
  • July 14th – Bobbie @ Nurture Your BOOKS™ Blog
  • July 15th – Grace L. @  Books Like Breathing
  • Nurture Book Tour – EXTENDED – Due to Popular Demand!!
  • July 18th-  Jaidis S. Juniper Grave
  • July 19th – Sheila H. @ The Dark Circle
  • July 20th – Glenda C. @ Authors Book Corner
  • July 21st – Wendy H. @ Minding Spot
  • July 22nd – Cheryl F. @ Black Diamond’s Book Reviews
  • July 25th – Sue F. @ Books, Books, The Magical Fruit
  • July 26th – Lisa B. (Guest Posting) @ Carole Gill Official Author Blog RIGHT HERE!
  • July 27th – Lisa Hol. @ Jezri’s Nightmares
  • July 28th – Blaze M. @ Blaze McRob’s Tales Of Horror
  • July 29th – Deborah P. @ A Bookish Libraria:The Bookish Dame Reviews

Friday, 24 June 2011

FRIDAY FLASH FICTION: Delbert's Taxidermy



The story that follows was inspired by the video!

          It was in a museum. In a little town called Howardsville. It was the kind of place no one went to unless they were on their way to someplace else.
Now the museum only had one exhibit at present. Just the one which no one came to see, so Cal was real surprised when the kids showed up one day and asked if they could see the taxidermy exhibit.
          Cal didn’t know what to make of them. “Oh that old thing. Why no one much wants to see it anymore.”
          That tactic wasn’t going to work because these were city kids and they were firm, especially the one called Brad who Cal just knew was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
          “Really sir, we would like to see it. Is that possible?”
          Sure it was possible. Anything was possible. It might even be likely some money could be made off these kids.
          “Sure you can see it but the charge is thirty dollars.”
          Young silver spoon paid the money right away. And Cal pocketed it. “Thank you kindly. It’s been put in the basement, as it’s kind of falling apart. Used to be in a circus originally, ‘bout sixty years ago.”
          The kids are nodding and poking each other. They’ve achieved what they wanted to. They’re dying to see the damned thing they heard about.
          The cellar steps are rickety and the girls giggle even though they’re all kind of tense by this time.
          “Mind your step now…”
          So they mind it and they get down there and the lights get snapped on. “Well there it is. Delbert’s Taxidermy”
          One of the girls almost faints.
          “Maybe your little friend there best lie down.”
          “I’m alright.”
          Cal shrugs and begins to explain about each of the animals, about the strange looking dog and the weird cats. He even tells them about the peculiar possum as well as the effed up old owl.
          “Who did the taxidermy it really wasn’t too good was it?”
          “Well it was a long time ago and things deteriorate.”
          Joe College: “yes sir of course but this was a notorious show. I was reading this book--!”
          “What book?”
          Brad whips the book out. It’s got a lot of insulting stuff about the show and about Delbert Gray the taxidermist.
          “Don’t believe everything you read, young man.”
          Yeah but they do, these snobby kids.
          “You know he’s still alive if you wanted to see him. He was real young when he did that. Quit shortly after.”
          “I can understand why!”
          Cal has decided he actively dislikes these kids and suggests that they go on out to Del’s farm. “I can give you directions.”
          So he does.
***
          It’s getting dark by the time they got there.
          Brad and the other boy look pleased. “Look girls, there’s someone on the porch. See?”
          All four look to see two people, only they’re in silhouette because there’s no light on. The only light is coming from behind them.
          Suddenly the two figures stand up. “Yes we’ve been expecting you.”
          Brad does the talking. “Mr. Gray? We wanted to meet you.”
          “Yup I’m Gray and this here’s my wife, Flora.”     
          It’s the woman who puts the light on. Actually it’s not a light at all; it’s a lantern that she lights.
          The kids don’t scream until she smiles.
          “Sorry if I scared you. I was born this way. Used to be in the circus when it had a freak show.”
          But if she looks bad, Delbert looks a lot worse. It’s his eyes. “Yeah I know. I’ve lived with this face for a long time. Used to be in the freak show too. That’s how we met. But I was already doing my taxidermy, See them animals all come from around here. Same as us. It’s just this land here, we’re kind of removed from most folk. We always were. Someone said the land was cursed once... I don’t know rightly might be true.  But you see them animals in the exhibit. That’s how they really looked. They were all ours, lived here with us, ate what we ate, drank what we drank.  I know we all look different but I don’t know what it is, they done tests. labs from Washington sent people here. They come and took stuff away—but they never said what they found out.”
          Brad and the other three kids are itching to leave. Only some young boys and girls come stomping in. Weird looking all of them. They've got funny eyes and oversized mouths with sharp teeth and too dammed many of them.
          “These here are my grandchildren.  Lookie kids, we got us some visitors but maybe if you’re lucky they might stay.”
          “That’s nice of you but we have to go…”
          All four kids are rushing toward the door. Then in the best tradition of every horror film they’ve ever seen, they’re stopped.
          “No, don’t rush off. You’re real important to us. See I was always of the mind that fresh blood was needed.  You know fresh blood to mingle with our own. We think that because we done got our animals right over time. Let me call Duke for you. Oh Duke--!”
          Nicest dog comes running in. “See now Duke’s mom mated with a dog from outside and well, Duke looks pretty normal, puppies come out right also. So if it worked for them, we’re sure it’ll work for us. Now there’s no reason to scream, no one can hear you way out here!”
          But they scream anyway.

Carole Gill © copyright 2011
932 words

Friday, 17 June 2011

Friday Flash Fiction: MADNESS

It was to have been an ordinary court martial. Had that been the case the accused would have been tried, judged and executed for heinous crimes and that would have been the end of it.
But the thing was it was not ordinary in the least. That is the accused was not your run of the mill soldier. He was from a prominent family and that quite changed everything.
The decision to hold an inquiry rather than a court martial was not unexpected. I just didn’t expect it to involve me.
I am not even in the military but merely an aide to the present Home Secretary.
“Please see about this business, it’s rather something that needs your attention…”
The inquiry was held in my office and if that was odd the whole thing got odder still.
The day finally arrived and I was about to hear the testimony from an eye witness, a young lad by the name of Briscoe.
He looked very nervous. I wished to put him at ease.
“This is merely an inquiry, Cpl. Briscoe. But I want to know exactly what happened.”
“Well sir, we had the enemy in our sights. They weren’t 200 yards from us. Captain Stockton-Ripley was firing. But then suddenly he was hit. He let out a scream and went topside.  He had apparently decided to charge the enemy single handedly. The thing was sir; he killed several of his own men along the way; men who had merely said they would cover him. Still screaming he even fired at an ambulance crew…!”
          “Go on.”
“It was terrible carnage. Terrible, there were scores of dead and dying.”
I thanked the lad and called my next witness.
“You are a doctor at Orchard Hospital, Dartford is that right?”
“Yes I am.”
          “I see from your report that there have been more killings.”
 “Oh yes, it hasn’t stopped. He’s even cannibalized one of his doctors…and killed three nurses...”  
The testimony was unbelievable. But there had been reports about him. High Command was abuzz with this and frankly nearly all of England was too. You see Robert Stockton-Ripley’s father is Lord Ripley who happens to sit in the House of Lords. His mother was one of the Stockton Girls; the youngest being the present Duchess of Blye.
Terrible acts of violence though they were it was all going to be handled carefully. It’s just the way things are.
So here we all were discussing these atrocities when in fact the parents hadn’t even felt obliged to contact me or any of my staff. I was quite put out but not really surprised.
I decided before doing anything else to visit them. I was going to at least have the satisfaction of asking some questions.
***
Grassington Hall looked exactly as I knew it would. It was imposing and grand. I was let in by a most haughty butler.
In truth, Lord Ripley was slightly more hospitable.
“Ah yes, we shall speak in the library.”
We did speak. We spoke politely, with just a hint of mild distain from his Lordship along with his firm declaration that his son was coming home and would be treated privately as the Prime Minister had personally intervened in ‘the matter.’
Eventually I was shown out. It wasn’t until the door closed that I looked up to see someone staring down at me. From her appearance and her general manner I assumed she was Mrs. Stockton-Ripley.
How sad and frail she looked,
The curtain came back down and she was gone.
I wondered all sorts of things after that. It seemed to me there was the likelihood of insanity in the family, possibly on the mother’s side.
The important thing was the murderous, insane son would be kept away from the world. I comforted myself with that.
Yet, I found the secrecy troubling and unfair to the memory of those who had died.
Little did I know everything would be cleared up shortly.
***
          It began with an unexpected visitor. A young man came to see me the following Monday.
“It’s my grandfather sir, he’s followed the case, followed it from the beginning he has.”
“And?”
“And he wishes to meet with you. He has something on his conscience, troubling his thoughts.”
I thought this very odd, but I did agree to see the man as soon as I could.
He lived in Notting Hill in a poor but respectable looking house. The grandson let me in.
“There he is, sir.”
I looked to see a frail old man. After we got to talking, I felt certain he had once been in service.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I have been looking forward to meeting you…” His voice trailed off and he looked thoughtful.
He bade me sit. “My name sir is Poole and I was in the employ of a rather infamous doctor many years ago, Dr. Henry Jekyll…”
“I have heard the name yes of course.” Who hadn’t I thought.
“Well sir you see, Dr. Jekyll fathered a son. That son was adopted as the girl involved was from a prominent family. That girl was Elizabeth Stockton.”
I gasped. “You mean…!”
“Yes sir. Robert Stockton-Ripley is Dr. Henry Jekyll’s illegitimate son. I know this as I was Dr. Jekyll’s butler. You see they were in love and well what with Jekyll dying suddenly, there would have been quite a scandal.”
 “Well I think it should be disclosed. After all the young man is a monster!”
“Just as Hyde was, but Dr. Jekyll was also involved. And really sir, in his memory at least, we ought really to avoid a scandal, don’t you think?”
I opened my mouth to disagree. But then I recalled the very tragic case of Dr. Jekyll and I knew at least the tragedy would now finally end.
I thanked Poole and left, feeling easier in my mind for I finally had the peace that only thoughtful resolution can bring.

 993 words



© Carole Gill Copyright 2011

Friday, 10 June 2011

FLASH FICTION: A Killer


         
         Nightmare World just a ride in an amusement park but the thing was it hit home with him. He had suffered from nightmares all his 17 years and now looking at the sign with the demons and the devil he just didn’t want to go in there.
          But she was there, and he didn’t want to look stupid.
          “We could go in the funhouse…”
          “No, aw come on! You promised.”
  Yeah, but that was to just to get into your pants.
  “Oh come on, you’ll love it!”
          No, he didn’t think he would.
          But then she said those magical words, words guaranteed to freeze any fella’s blood: “you’re not scared are you?”
          “Course not, silly!”
          Huge overstatement (lie) followed by an enormous shit-eating grin.
          Okay so they go over to the damned thing. He pays the guy.
“Sit anywhere you want.”
They climb into the first boat.
          “Look it’s got real water and everything!”
          She slides in first then him as the operator announces: “whatever you see, however scared you get, don’t stand up!”
          She giggles, but he’s ready to fart off right then and there, only she’s got this adoring look in her eyes.
          She squeezes his knee with the look of a promise for a few feels and maybe more and he’s decided to look on the bright side. He’s nearly convinced himself he’ll be okay but then the lousy ride starts up.
          “I think we’re the only ones.”
          He doesn’t care. He’s too busy staring at the double doors he knows are going to bang open.
          Sure enough they do bang open.
          He tries not to jump, but he does. He just hopes she didn’t see.
          “Welcome to Hell.”
          She reads the sign out loud and laughs.
          He looks over at her. She’s smiling and pointing. “Oh look, isn’t that scary?”
          She’s pointing at some typically stupid mechanical monsters and skeletons.
          Well if they’re going to be stupid like that maybe…
          But then something startles him. He glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. At least she didn’t see him jump.
           “I just love rides like this thank you!” she snuggles up and he’s enjoying it but at the same time he wants the stupid ride to be over.
“It’s a long one!”
          Her pronouncement not his. He’s thinking the same thing though. How much longer for this stupid thing?
          Suddenly the boat stops. Just stops.
          Neither of them likes it. “What’s going on, why’d we stop?”
          “Don’t know.”
          He’s trying so hard to take charge but it isn’t easy. That’s when it happens. Just ahead of them, something moves.
          “What was that?”
          “It’s part of the ride.”
          “No it isn’t. It looked too big.”
          She shrugs. “Gee, I don’t know I didn’t see it.”
          She sounds disgusted and it bothers him but the truth is he’s more worried about what he saw.
          “I know what I saw. Something over there.”
He’s pointing.
          “Must have been a workman." She says.
          He nods. Yeah that makes sense. The ride stalled and they have to fix it. Okay he can live with that.
          The boat starts to move again. And as it does it moves sharply to the right.
          She giggles but he’s too nervous. “Is it me or is it darker?”
          “Maybe a light burned out.”
          Great that’s all he needs.
          That’s when it happens. Something jumps into the boat.
“Did you hear something?”
“Sounded like a thud.”
Whatever it was its slimy and it starts to crawl over them.
          She’s screaming and so is he, as they try to get the stuff off of them.
          It doesn’t work.
          “Let’s get out of here!”
          They don’t care that they’re not supposed to get up. That was before.
          The water is shallow; they’re both running and screaming. But the thing is they can’t find their way out.
          Maybe this way…
          Maybe not.
          She finally starts crying. That’s when they hear the laughter.
          “What was that?”
          “I don’t know.”
          The laughter gets louder. She starts to scream again as he does.
That’s when the mist rolls in--crazy, heavy mist the thickest ever. And within the mist are figures, just ahead of them.
“Run!”
They do but then they see what the figures really are. They’re not workmen or people, they’re monstrous looking demons. Demons with scales and sharp teeth. Demons laughing at them, taunting them, telling them how they’re going to eat them.
          “We’ll chew you up one bite at a time. And you’ll feel it because you won’t die, because it’s a nightmare and in nightmares anything can happen.”
          “No!”
          His voice not hers, because she’s not there now.
          “Tiffany!”
          He’s shouting for her—looking this way and that. That’s when something bites into him.
          One bite at a time.
          He screams the pain is so intense. He can actually feel feels his flesh being torn apart, scissored apart--surely the agony will kill him.
          “Help!”
          He’s screaming but over the shrieks he hears laughter: loud and raucous. And over the laughter a voice taunting him. “Maybe you’ll wake up and maybe you won’t.”
          “But why?!”
          “Who knows kid? It’s a nightmare! That’s right, you can scream if you want...”
          So he does.
          *
          She was grateful it was a Catholic hospital. She had prayed at the statue of the Madonna earlier. Now, however she was beyond praying. All she could do was cry.
          A nurse comforted her. “Really you must rest.  He’ll be needing extensive therapy and assessment. There’s no telling how long he’ll be here.”
          His mother nodded. “He’s always suffered from nightmares.”
          Not like this though. This one’s a killer.

(937 words)

         
         
         





© Copyright 2011 Carole Gill

Monday, 6 June 2011

THE UNDEAD OF WINTER, AN EXTREME UNDEAD RELEASE!


From Rymfire Books: a. A collection of dripping, gore-encrusted maggot-filled zombie stories you will not soon forget.

Extreme reigns supreme here as all hell breaks loose during a winter of savage devastation!

In this collection:

Undead of Winter by Armand Rosamilia

A Winter's Feast by Brent Abell

In The Dead of Night by Suzanne Robb

Day of the Varmints by Jonah Buck

In The Name of the Emperor by R. S. Pyne

The Christmas Video by Tim Lieder

Snow of Blood by Blaze McRob

The Second Wave by Lisa McCourt Hollar

Zombie Winter by Carole Gill

                         Buy this collection here!                                     

Thursday, 2 June 2011

Friday Flash Fiction: An Affliction

  
Sleepwalking was his affliction. That was what his wife said. “It is the cross you will bear, John; a handicap that you must endure for such are the mysterious ways of the Lord.”
Yet although she said this, she was ever more worried lately. As it was not getting better but seemed if anything to be occurring with greater frequency.
At last John decided to see a doctor about it.
“Yes, I have studied cases like this. Somnambulism. There is no remedy. Tell me the details it is best if I know everything.”
“Well," John said. "I have had it on and off for years although lately it is getting worse that is it is happening more frequently. I am abed not more than an hour and I get up—I sometimes know my surroundings and do incorporate them as part of my dream. Yet, despite the dreaming, I’m dream walking. I literally sleep walk whilst I dress and I dress fully too.”
His wife interrupted him. “He always heads for the door! I worry that he might go outside and be killed for truly he does not know what he is doing!”
The doctor nodded sympathetically. “Yes I am glad you stop him. This sort of thing—who knows where it might lead? It is most perplexing.”
“Is there anything you can do for him?”
The doctor thought a moment. “Take this," he said as he scribbled something down. “It might quiet the nerves and permit sound sleep to occur. Come back and see me in a few days and we’ll see what has happened; if it has had any effect."
Husband and wife left. She was greatly worried, but her husband was hopeful.
“I feel good about this Mary, truly. I think it is a good course of action. Sound sleep will be of great benefit I just know it!”
Mary wasn’t so certain but she smiled and tried to sound positive. “Yes, John. We shall try it tonight for you.”
*
She gave him the measured dose. He fell asleep at once. She sat watching him, whispering her love to him though he could not hear. At last, she too fell asleep though she hadn’t wanted to. She had intended to keep watch, but she was so tired out from the strain of it all.
She was sound asleep when he sat up. He was dreaming about the city and his work. It was always the same dream too, troubling and dark. Yet, in the dream he knew he was supposed to accomplish something. He knew this when he reached for his work clothes—and blindly, but ably he finished dressing himself. Then stepping into his shoes he walked toward the door.
Out he went, walking in the direction of his work.
*
Her poor room looked like a slaughter house. And she, this butchered woman, no longer looked pretty for she had been savagely mutilated beyond recognition.
She was so far, his best creation. When the fire burned the rest of his blood-soaked clothes he put it out and dressed afresh. His business completed, he left 13 Miller’s Court to go on his way.

Heading now for Whitechapel Road he felt secure and satisfied. He would celebrate with a good brandy and possibly a cigar as he always did.
He was so pleased with himself he had begun to whistle but when he saw the policeman he froze.
‘He doesn’t know,’ he thought. ‘I’ll boldly walk past him. I might even wish him good day.’
But the thing was this was unsettling for the constable didn’t seem to take his eyes off him. And then when he blew his whistle! Old Jack the Ripper got so excited, he quickly ditched his knife and ran like hell! Panic-stricken he ran blindly into the road just as a builder's cart came trundling along. The driver tried to stop but couldn’t. The horse trod over the man crushing him. The driver rushed over to help. “Oh my God!” He shouted. “He’s dead! He’s dead!” When he saw the policeman he called: “Over here, Constable! Please!”
There was no reaction at all. The policeman just remained staring fixedly ahead still holding his whistle.
A crowd soon began to form. Finally a woman appeared and when she recognized her husband she yelled. “Please! He is my husband! Please let me through.”
By this time there was a doctor on the scene. He had already covered the dead man and now was examining the policeman. “What is the matter with this man? He won’t answer me. He looks to be in a trance!”
Mary answered: “He’s a Constable with H Division and…” she started to weep. “He’s a somnambulist! Our own doctor has confirmed it!”
“He sleepwalks? The doctor asked. “Really, in his uniform?”
“Yes, it’s remarkable but he does. He rises up from the bed and dresses; I usually stop him gently for I am not supposed to wake him suddenly. Only tonight I never heard him. I woke just 20 minutes ago and came here, because this is his beat.”
As Mary started to cry John finally woke up and began to comfort her. He, of course, didn’t see the irony of it all. No one did and no one ever would, for it was after all a policeman who stopped old Jack the Ripper dead in his tracks, a bloody copper so intent on nicking the bastard he did it in his sleep!
(917 words)

Carole Gill 2011 © Copyright