Don't let anyone tell you differently: blogging is work. Fortunately, it's the kind of work we'd rather be doing. =)

The year is winding down and the federal income tax season is looming near. My taxes will be a mess this year--I sold off some stocks to restore our '74 Chevy Nova...but ditched the project to go to Universal Studios instead. Now, I have a disastrous tax filing ahead, a car that still won't run, and a vehement preference for Disney. #FAIL

On a brighter note, here are two blog posts you might find helpful. We shouldn't end 2011 on a note of despair. These blogs are way better than tales of tax woe.

On the Query Tracker blog is my article Caution: Contains Strong Language. You may be disappointed to find it suitable for all ages.



Over on the Pennwriters Area 6 blog I put up a reprint of a helpful blog regarding Social Networking for Writers. Consider it Networking 101 for the novice writers (and N0oBz who aren't gone digital yet.)

Many blessings and hopes for you all in 2012...I hope it's not going to be our last year on the planet but live as if it just might be. Make this year count.

Cheers, Ash

As promised, the winners circle...

The Kraftmatic Adjustable Giveaway was held to introduce readers to the homepage of my forthcoming urban fantasy, Bleeding Hearts: Book One of the Demimonde. Thanks to everyone who entered.

The winners are Kim Koning, loloisme, and Julie Jansen. Kim wins a copy of Niteblade's poetry issue, featuring you-know-who. loloisme wins a Barnes & Noble gift card. Julie gets the nifty mystery prize: a string of LED skellyton lights that are too cute for words. (Their limbs dangle. squee)

You can still sign up for email updates or to Follow the blog--so stop by, anytime. As we get closer to release day, there will be plenty more news and shameless giveaways.

There were two other mini-contests that had winners, too. Jessica McHugh wins the comment-on-Kim Koning's-blog contest and Lisa wins the anti-caroling contest for "Gangland Massacre". (If you haven't sung that one yet, you should. It's a real scream.) Jess and Lisa win ten dollar Barnes & Noble gift cards for playing along.

Hope to see my fellow bloggers around soon and you, as well. Best wishes for a happy and prosperous New Year!

Thanks to everyone who stopped by on The 12 Days of Creepfest blog hop. I enjoyed the chance to visit so many great blogs and had a ton of fun doing it.



Winners will be announced Monday.



Watch out for Krampus...ho, ho, ho...

Today I'm welcoming author Kim Koning into my parlor for a little fiction fun. Welcome, Kim!

Kim Koning...

I thought I would post you a first excerpt into my current WIP - a Paranormal Historical Trilogy: The Chaos Chasms

This excerpt is from Book 1 - Ring a Ring o' Roses ... Look out for the release in 2012

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My eyes flew open. I was trembling. I had felt a hand touch my temple. Nobody was there. I was alone in the drawing room. The fire was dying down. I walked across to the fireplace to re-stoke it. As I picked up the poker, molten ash from the fire suddenly blew up at me. I jumped back. My eyes burned. Some of the ash had gone into my eyes. I rubbed at my stinging eyes. My eyes  watered. I opened them up. Everything was hazy before me. I opened my eyes wider, grimacing against the sting. The fire was high again. Then it died. There must be a wind through the chimney. I carefully peered up through the chimney. I could not hear the whistle of wind. I rebuilt the fire and relit it again. As I walked back to my chair, I heard a sound. It sounded like …like a cry. I turned around. The fire was dead. I walked slowly across to the fireplace again. I touched the logs. They were cold to my touch. There was a chill to the air. I wrapped my arms around myself. Perhaps there was snow in the air. I walked across to the window. The air remained unchanged outside. Not a breeze stirred. I opened the window.Putting my hand out in the air, I drew it back. I shivered. It was colder in the drawing room than the air outside.

I walked towards the door. I had to get warm. It was so cold. With my teeth now chattering from cold, I tried to
exit. The door was open but the doorway was blocked. Nothing was there. I triedagain. I could not leave. It was like walking into a doorway. I stopped. The cryagain. It sounded like a woman whimpering. I felt a hand touch my cheek. I
jumped back.

“Who is there? Make yourself known. Please. Who is there? What do you want?”

No answer. Then the whimpering started again. This time it seemed to be coming from the fireplace. I walked slowly across. In my mind I called Jal. As I got closer to the fireplace, the fire sprung to life again. I jumped back. But there was no warmth from the flames. The whimpering grew louder. I looked carefully at the flames, keeping my distance. My eyes still stung from the leaping ash.

I gasped.

There was a face flickering in the flames. This was where the whimpering came from. The face was mine. I stood locked in fear and shock. My limbs felt like they were encased in chains. I tried to look away. I tried to call out. Nothing but a strangled sound came from my throat. The eyes on my flickering face opened. They looked out at me. I felt myself being pulled. Nothing held me but the pull was inescapable. I glanced down in fear at my feet. I was held above the floor and I was moving, floating, through the air to my face in the fireplace. The flaming eyes were locked on my eyes. I could not think. I could not cry out. I could only stare in horror at my face burning in the flames. The whimpering became keening. It got louder and louder. I moved very slowly. I tried to stop. Suddenly the flames died. There was a strangled “NO” from the fireplace. For a moment I hung, suspended in the air. Then I fell. I hit the ground, narrowly missing the fireplace.

-
Excerpt from Ring a Ring o' Roses - Book 1 "The Chaos Chasms" by Kim Koning -

All rights reserved Kim Koning 2011-2012

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Open the gateway of darkness at: http://kimkoning.com/wp
I can be found Wrestling the Muse : http://kimkoning.wordpress.com
I can also be found on Twitter @AuthorKimKoning
Like my facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/Kim.M.Koning?sk=app_106171216118819
My first short story is available in this anthology along with 33 other great authors including The Neil Gaiman:
http://randomstatic.net/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=51

(I am also giving away an ebook copy of this anthology on my blog "Wrestling the
Muse" for Creepfest in a Creepmas Contest.)

I see ghosts and tell tales of their visits.
I write by the light of the moon and under the gaze of the stars.
Draw up a chair, light a candle, close the windows and let me weave
you stories of darkness and gateways of light.

Thanks for hosting me on your site Ash.

Happy Creepfest & Merry Christmas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And to all, a great hop! Great excerpt, Kim. Glad to have you here...

Be sure to check out Kim's blog and remember to vote on the guest flash fiction contest (I'm entered!)

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Remember to enter the Kraftmatic Creepfest Giveaway and go here to return to the Creepfest list.

BONUS CONTEST!


Hit me up with your scariest Christmas carol parody. It has to be singable—so you better pay attention to the meter. I want to use your song to wow the crowds of shoppers at my retail day job. (Keep it relatively clean, too, kids—I don't have a Mature rating on this blog. :D )


We'll pick another winner after I try out each of the entries at work. Winner will be chosen by my co-workers. Easiest ten bucks a writer can make. Give me the song you're REALLY singing when you hear those carols. Be sure to tell me which song you're ruining, too, so I have a reference.


I need a minimum of FIVE entries here, folks, so go nag your friends into entering. Srsly. Ten dollar gift cards don't come cheap.


Unless you just grab a pile from the store and stuff them in your pocket. But these are activated, man. They are activated.


Winner will be announced at the end of the hop. You've got time to work on your gems. Polish them up and make sure they gleam…with a creepy green light.


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Remember to enter the Kraftmatic Creepfest Giveaway and go here to return to the Creepfest list.

Today I'm creeping by author Kim Koning's blog to do a little muse wrestling of my own. You can sing along to my Christmas anti-carol and be sure to enter Kim's flash contest before you leave. Remember: there are prizes at stake!


I'll be giving away a $10 Barnes & Noble gift card to a reader on Kim's blog…so what are you waiting for? (Other than to finish reading this post, I mean.)


Kim's also running a blog hop-long flash contest with all her guests so be sure to stop back there before the end to vote for your favorite guest entry. Mine literally rocks (or it would with a little Trans Siberian Orchestra in the background) so don't miss out on some great reads.


We're half-way through the blog hop…who knows what tremors tomorrow will bring?


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Remember to enter the Kraftmatic Creepfest Giveaway and go here to return to the Creepfest list.

In the spirit of the Creepfest Blog Hop, I thought I'd share a glimpse into my inspirations: what attracts me to dark poetry.


I'm a poet at heart, my ordinary thoughts twisted into curls of language and hitched to images I can't escape. I love speech--old speech, poetic speech, the lofty structures of Byron and the pedestal-worthy rants of Poe. Every now and then I'll dip into a book or watch a Shakespearean play and wonder: why don't people talk like that anymore?


I never got into the goth look and I'm too old for emo but I've always had dungeons in my heart. Those dungeons are a fun place to visit.


Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not into iron bars or rusty manacles. I prefer the long halls lit by wavering torch flame, the far-off skritters of unknown things, the echoes of dripping drips and scratchy scratches against cold stone. But most of all—I love the desperation.


Desperation is the purest emotion, the absolute essence of the human spirit. It beats hope in a foot race without breaking a sweat because whereas hope is blind, desperation has a goal, a focus, a reason for the drive.


And, sure, hope is a nice thing. No one survives without it. But sometimes I get tired of bouncing along, full of optimism, waiting for something. A big, nameless, something. On the other hand, desperation gets stuff done. Got a deadline? Tap into desperation and the job gets tackled. On the verge of losing the one you love? Desperation makes you step out of your safety zone and do what needs to be done to save that love. Without desperation, we'd drown in defeat and complacency.


Desperation is at work behind a lot of what I write. Now, I'm not normally a desperate person: I gots me a happy marriage, a wonderful if slightly nutty family, a double-fist of job security, and an overall fortunate life. But who writes about that stuff? Not the dark poets, that's for sure.


Sometimes I need help getting down to the dungeons so that I can tap those tales. Most of the time, I call on my muse: music.


Today's muse is Sebastian Bach of Skid Row fame…but I need to get something out of my system before I continue: THE HAIR.





Look. At. That. Hair. Twenty-some years later and I'm still trying to grow mine out like that. He has the hair of a god. Sweet Lawd A-mighty.


Anyways. The dungeon.


I popped in Slave to The Grind today because I was looking at shoes on the Victoria's Secret website. In case you can't see the connection, here it is:


Shoes-->heels-->stacked heels--> Stack heels kickin' rhythm-->Monkey Business. See? Logic at its finest.


I popped in the CD and immediately my tweener left the room. She's allergic to hair metal. (She's not adopted, either, so I can't figure that part out.) Lots of fun songs started to play—like the aforementioned Monkey Business and Slave to the Grind…but then the slower songs came on.


Wasted Time.


That song is an express elevator to the lowest levels of my dungeon complex. The desperation runs like a crystal spring there. The despair rings clear. The door opens and I find myself in a room I haven't visited in a long, long time.


I closed my eyes and let the song take me, unsure of what I tried to remember. You know how a song brings back a buried memory? I could feel it, digging closer to the surface and I almost didn't want to remember. I didn't know how much it would hurt.


Luckily, the song was over before I got any clear image. I don't know if I want to go back that far anymore. I like where I'm at. But…I know where my next project is going to be waiting for me.
There's another song on that album called Quicksand Jesus. Bach is the only guy who could sing that song. No one else would have done the desperation any justice.


Quicksand Jesus, I'm so far away without you. That's exactly how I feel when I'm down in my dungeon. So far away.


And it's not a bad thing, either. It gives me the room I need to turn those images into words.
Everyone has a muse, the magnet that pulls them closer to their stories. Care to share yours?


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Remember to go to to enter the Creepfest Giveaway and go here to return to the Creepfest list.

I know Christmas is right around the corner but I can't even think about that right now.

Yes, I have a tree to decorate and lights to string and cookies to make and presents to wrap. But Christmas, even with its shiny splendor, dulls in comparison with my shiny ARC.

I'm in the middle of proofing right now. I even took it to the Twelve-Twenty Four concert this weekend. It goes everywhere with me.

And soon it'll be released into the wild so that everyone else can carry it around. March 2012 is closer than you think.

That's why I'm going to transport all ya'll over to the page I set up for my book. Click here to go to the BLEEDING HEARTS page where you can enter some fabulous prizes. You'll find all the info you need to get your entries in.

And stop back on the weekend--I'll be doing a guest spot or two and you can get another chance to win ANOTHER prize! Why not? I've got Santa's pack right here so I may as well share the wealth.

What, officer? No, I haven't seen him since he left his pack with me. Don't worry about that noise coming from the basement. It's just the dog. That's right. The dog. Move along...

I know Christmas is right around the corner but I can't even think about that right now.

Yes, I have a tree to decorate and lights to string and cookies to make and presents to wrap. But Christmas, even with its shiny splendor, dulls in comparison with my shiny ARC.

I'm in the middle of proofing right now. I even took it to the Twelve-Twenty Four concert this weekend. It goes everywhere with me.

And soon it'll be released into the wild so that everyone else can carry it around. March 2012 is closer than you think.

That's why I'm going to transport all ya'll over to the page I set up for my book. Click here to go to the BLEEDING HEARTS page where you can enter some fabulous prizes. You'll find all the info you need to get your entries in.

And stop back on the weekend--I'll be doing a guest spot or two and you can get another chance to win ANOTHER prize! Why not? I've got Santa's pack right here so I may as well share the wealth.

What, officer? No, I haven't seen him since he left his pack with me. Don't worry about that noise coming from the basement. It's just the dog. That's right. The dog. Move along...

The CREEPFEST BLOG HOP begins tomorrow. Hope you will join me and the three dozen other writers who are going to deck the halls with boughs of horror...

I'll have some prizes to give away and I'll even be hopping blogs myself--I've got some chimneys of my own to slide down for a guest appearance or two.

Just remember: the more blogs you visit, the more presents Santa Claws will bring you.

Now, try to get some sleep, children. Don't worry what Santa's elves are doing.

Tomorrow, it begins...