Featured Story

Ephemeralia by Gordon Highland

“You make me come true.” He’d used the line dozens of times. Not even counting the dozens of takes and rehearsals and hundreds of feet of film stock wasted perfecting its iconic version twenty years ago. And though the words and sentiment were not the actor’s own invention, screenwriters aren’t mobbed by dewy stargazers and hounded to perform their greatest hits. We reminded one another of these facts daily. Sex—non-simulated sex, anyway—wasn’t part of the arrangement, but one cowgirl’s fantasy sprung to life when she impaled herself in stealth during their re-enactment of her favorite scene from her fifteenth-favorite movie. Besides, laying the occasional fan reinvigorated his floundering vitality. (I’m paraphrasing here.) He rationalized that it wasn’t prostitution by using the “escort defense,” the same way cagey ticket scalpers throw in their wares for free with the purchase of a three-hundred-dollar football. The word was his. I tried explaining that it should simply be called ephemera, even coining the oh-so-clever ephemerrata. But a man renting out his legacy deserves to choose his own username, if not title. And though its memorabilia could fetch a hefty sum, nothing in his condo was for sale yet. That would remain for his sister to decide. You essentially paid for his time, in whatever form that took: companionship, conversation, or expertise. No artifacts, no souvenirs—only your memory of the experience. That was the concession, he told me, for fragmenting the remnants of his soul. At his peak, he had lived within his considerable means—until he was no longer being considered. The psychosexual thrillers of the early ’90s fell from studio favor, leaving him neither sensitive enough for rom-coms nor name enough to shoulder the action tentpoles that monopolize today’s marquees. Financing biannual stints in rehab reduced him to local television commercials, voiceovers, and the frugality of unassisted living. When told of the brain tumor that would end him before his forty-third birthday, he first thought of his parents. They never profited from his celebrity. Sure, his gifts had once bordered on ludicrous, yet thoughtless: nothing that upgraded their spartan lifestyle. They could not become beneficiaries, since no one insured terminal cases. So he would dedicate his final months to earning all he could for them without making a spectacle of himself. Without a booking agent. Any publicity would merely stoke the schadenfreude he’d engendered in the media over the years, sparking headlines of karmic retribution. Even I only earned his confidence about the matter after avowing my premortem silence. The idea came from Bill Murray. He didn’t know the man, had never worked with him, nor did he particularly care for that deadpan delivery style. But his fan encounters are the stuff of legend, urban or otherwise. “No one will ever believe you,” he’s often reported to conspire with a wink after the most bizarre, intrusive, and altruistic acts. My friend wondered if anyone might one day speak of himself with such reverence. Most of you—nay, us—have only heard about that prick who wouldn’t sign autographs or arrive on time for engagements. The one who accepted his Razzie award in person, nostril ringed with blow, then dropped trough right there on the rostrum and slapped his own mocking ass. So, in pursuit of amended immortality, and cash, he registered a few online accounts, posting his availability and terms. Identity undisclosed but hinted at, until after someone made contact. All activities limited to the greater Los Angeles area. “Venkman Thinks You’re an Asshole” (image via Flickr user Surian Soosay) One guy paid seven hundred bucks just to berate the actor for half an hour uninterrupted, weepily blaming a movie for his ex-wife’s affair and his subsequent emasculation. It didn’t matter that James Spader had actually been the cinematic perpetrator. Then there was the twink who bought three days of one-on-one theatre workshopping, only to spend most of it batting his lashes and goading our hero into performing a series of monologues from Tyler Perry scripts. Someone else had him deliver groceries, from which he prepared (and scorched) an Italian feast while complimenting her figure as she modeled mothballed dresses from waistlines past. He narrated live DVD commentaries. Walked and curbed showdogs. Heard confessions. Wrestled. Cuckolds and spinsters and revisionist historians, each of them signed confidentiality agreements: one-way, of course. This kept his name out of the tabloids while providing me with enough whimsical anecdotes to sate your appetite for untold memoir. Rest assured, he would’ve wanted it this way. The man was lucky to retain his acumen through most of his final days, though I admit, differentiating between random bouts of dementia and these fool’s errands, one might suspect a cause/effect kinship. Any plans he’d made—whether for single-serving public relations, or for the afterlife—unspooled like a jammed videocassette when he recognized that cowgirl on a newsmagazine show with a quiver in her confession and a lavalier mic pinned to her maternity blouse. My imagination had previously rendered a more flattering lass as he’d described grinding in the bronze candlelight atop her dining room table, not the stout matron seen there in the high-definition flesh. He shrugged, offering a sheepish chuckle at his exaggeration, then exhaled with a relief I’d neither witnessed before nor experienced myself. Serenity. All he’d endured just to cultivate some semblance of a grassroots legacy, now overshadowed and ephemeral in light of the new life that would finally make him come true. [End Chapter] That’s what I’ve got for a sample chapter; will send the full synopsis later. Please make sure interested publishers understand there is no royalty split with the family. Those geriatric hayseeds denied my interview requests … and their own son’s cancer. Can you believe that? See you at the auction. D donald@infinitemonkeys.tv - Gordon Highland is the author of the novels Flashover and Major Inversions, with short stories in such publications/anthologies as Word Riot, Noir at the Bar Vol. 2, Warmed and Bound, In Search of a City, and Solarcide, among others. He lives in the Kansas City area, where he makes videos by day and music by night. Visit him at gordonhighland.com.

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Fiction

Humiliation by John Yohe

Although normally the first person humiliated the second person, the first person secretly fantasized about being humiliated too. The second person had always normally fantasized about being humiliated, but when the first person confessed to wanting to be humiliated, the second person decided to try being humiliating, because the first person had been so good at humiliating that the second person wanted to do something to please the first person. But though enjoyable, the second person found humiliating the first person less humiliating, and that the first person humiliated the second person less, which was not as humiliating. “Humiliation” (image via Flickr user Jane Fader) As they took turns humiliating and being humiliated by each other, they developed the humiliating fantasy of a third person humiliating them both. A win-win-win situation. The third person humiliating the second person, and thereby humiliating the first person. The second person being humiliated by the third person, while still being able to humiliate the first person. The first person being humiliated by both, while also knowing that the second person was being properly humiliated. Humiliatingly, the second person decided to leave the first person and be humiliated by the third person all the time. Though humiliated, the first person understood, but still liked to be humiliated, which was humiliating, and still asked the second person for humiliation, which was even more humiliating. And because the second person didn’t want to humiliate the first person, the second person sometimes humiliated the first person as a form of humiliation, though it was humiliating for both. The bigger humiliation though, came when the third person didn’t want to humiliate the second person anymore. Humiliated, the second person returned to the first person, and to make up for not wanting to humiliate, or be humiliated, the second person humiliated the first person and, to reciprocate, the first person humiliated the second person, though each still secretly longed to be humiliated by the other, all the time. - Born in Puerto Rico, John Yohe grew up in Michigan, and currently lives in Portland, Oregon. He has worked as a wildland firefighter, deckhand/oiler, runner/busboy, bike messenger, wilderness ranger, as well as a teacher of writing. He has lived in Mexico, Spain, France, and traveled to six continents. His first full-length collection of poetry, What Nothing Reveals, is out now. His work has appeared previously in such journals as Fence, Rattapallax, Rattle, and The Hat. A complete list of his publications, and poetry, fiction and non-fiction writing samples, can be found at his website: johnyohe.com.

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In the Necropolis by Robert Boucheron

A young woman with a scarf over her head comes to visit me in the necropolis. How did she know I am here? I lie in the sun, too tired to run away. She brings a clean blanket and food in a plastic bin, rice with chopped chicken. She waits while I eat. Then she asks questions. “Do you live here? Are you alone?” I do not want to answer. She is gentle and persistent, like fine rain that soaks through the leaves of a tree. I talk without looking at her. After I was robbed, beaten and left for dead, I took refuge in the necropolis. That was years ago. I forget how many. Somehow I healed, but the scars repel people. When I beg on a busy street, I wear a hood to shade my face. Most days, I scavenge for food or for things to sell to scrap dealers. They want metal, cloth, glass, and wood. No plastic. They pay very little, by weight. If you argue, they throw you out. I eat what I find, unless it smells too bad. People give me stale bread, bruised fruit and bones. I buy leftover vegetables from street vendors. At dusk, I leave the garbage heap or the city and return to the necropolis. The valley is somewhat sheltered from the wind. No major roads pass nearby, no neighbors. It is quiet here, street after street of old tombs and graves. “Le fin de la journee” (image via Flickr user Ian) The mausoleums, built like stone houses, are owned by wealthy families who keep them locked. I tried the doors. There are ruins, empty sarcophagi. I did not want to live in one of those. Against the circuit wall, I found a shed. Maybe it was used for garden tools. I patched holes with scraps. The shed has a dirt floor, one window, shelves and pegs. I keep things there—rags, water jugs, a bowl. I never sweep around it or light a fire. The smoke would attract attention. There are plane trees, cedars and cypresses, but the ground is dry. I fetch water from a secret source. It is a long walk, and the jugs are heavy. People seldom come here. On holidays, when they bring flowers to lay at the grave of a loved one, I hide. I don’t dare make a sound, but I watch. People stare at the grave, weep, and mutter. Sometimes they sing a short, mournful song. When they leave, I can relax. After the flowers wither, I clear them away. I have no fear of the dead. It is the living who frighten me. I walk and look at the names and inscriptions on the tombs. I recognize words such as born, died, years, peace, bosom, father, mother, wife, and eternal. The necropolis is a great book spread over the ground. Its pages are stones, flat or upright. Statues and carved symbols are everywhere—sheep, angels, stars, doves, wreaths, torches, ivy leaves, columns, skulls, obelisks, urns and hourglasses. At night, I look at the moon and the bright stars. Clouds sometimes pass between them and the earth. The cold makes me shiver. I huddle in my shed until dawn. But in midsummer I sleep under the sky. Once, a group of officials walked through the necropolis. It was noon on a day when I felt too sick to scavenge. I hid and overheard them. A fat man in a black suit led the way. A thin man in a gray suit trotted just behind him and to the side. Five or six men followed. “The place looks shabby,” said the fat man. “Yes, your honor,” said the thin man, “it is sadly neglected. The department has no budget for maintenance, let alone restoration. As you see, the historic tombs are crumbling. Some are centuries old.” “Vandalism? Are the tombs defaced?” “No, your honor. Just weather.” “What about the private owners?” “They visit, pull weeds, pick up debris. No one can afford repairs.” “What’s over there—fresh flowers?” “So it appears, your honor.” “Is the necropolis still in use?” “You mean, are there new burials? Old families have the right to continue to use their tombs. There are no plots for sale. New tombs are prohibited.” “My assistant tells me that vagrants camp here, that the poorest of the poor live among the tombs.” “The wall is in disrepair. It is not difficult to enter. My staff report no permanent residents. Other than those laid to rest.” “We cannot allow gutter trash to lie among our ancestors. That would be indecent.” “Yes, your honor.” “Make a sweep. Evict anyone hiding in the ruins. Ask the owners to contribute to repair the wall, clear the drains, and so on.” “The council can levy an assessment.” “The council! That will be the day.” “You honor knows best.” “I’ve seen enough. What about all of you?” The fat man stopped and turned to his entourage. They murmured assent. The thin man bowed. “Thank you, your honor. If I may be of further assistance, please do not hesitate.” The officials walked away. Some days later, a crew of laborers spent an hour sweeping fallen leaves and twigs into piles. Then they talked and smoked and threw pebbles at the tombs. They left and the piles stayed. I give the young woman the empty plastic bin. I feel better now that I have eaten, and sleepy. I yawn. The young woman is worried, unhappy. “The blanket is for you,” she says. “May I visit again?” “Why come here?” “It is my good deed, as we are commanded. No one will follow me.” “Maybe I will not be here.” “Where will you go?” The young woman does not believe me. I look at the sky. She gets up from the ground where she has sat. Dust is on her skirt. “There is nothing to worry about,” I say. She waits. What does she want, a blessing? But I am done with talking. - Robert Boucheron is an architect in Charlottesville, Virginia. His website is boucheronarch.com. He writes on housing, communities, gardens, electric motorcycles, and love gone wrong. His fiction and nonfiction appear in Blue Lake Review, Cerise Press, Construction, Cossack Review, IthacaLit, Montreal Review, Mouse Tales Press, New England Review, New Orleans Review, Niche, North Dakota Quarterly, Poydras Review, Talking Writing, Zodiac Review.

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Poetry

the fragrance of dark coffee by Phillipe Chatelain

the fragrance of dark coffee sometimes i have beautiful thoughts, and i try to use words to describe them but very scarcely do they suffice. so i apologize in advance if these words don’t move you the way the thought moved me. they can come out bitter, like a fresh cup of coffee. if i offer you a cup: you may try and put your own Splenda into it- the one you keep stored on your person for times like these. in the end, you’ll enjoy it with me over light conversation. sip slowly, feel the gentle jitter of caffeine sent down your spinal cord. let the sound of your inner voice acknowledge itself. listen. breathe. another sip. you’re reaching the bottom, but no matter how hard you try you will not get that last drop. the end may be the sweetest, but it’s the part that always leaves a stain in the cup. “Coffee in the morning” (photo by Flickr user chichacha) – Phillipe Chatelain is a poet from the Bronx and editor of In Parentheses. He prides himself on finding a balance between crucial self-reflection and expressions of awe or disgust toward the outward world. His biggest astonishment is the seamless unity of existence connecting all living things. His plight with humanity stems from their role in obstructing this unity. His work is forthcoming in Enhance Magazine, The Acentos Review, Praise Writer, BarebackLit, Blast Furnace, and Rockett Review. Follow him on Twitter @uptownvoice, or check out his blog at rhythmicfacets.tumblr.com.

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Three poems by Merica Teng

Rejection Those hideous words, “Unfortunately, we regret to inform you…” come to me, only after I’ve poured my wishes into the new year for a fresh purpose— they come without a scene. Telling my best friend on more days than she wants to hear, during car rides where I cannot see, “If I don’t get it…I’ll die.” With pink sunlight on one side of her face, she says this, repeating in her mind her own crisis, “Stop it. You’ll be fine.” We both keep driving, so that dinner will replace our mood. “Urban rejects” (photo by Flickr user macinate) Pen Pals He and I agreed to write each other letters for as long as it takes, before we find real lovers. Traveling more miles, unassuming, I open his small envelop after brewing Wild Cherry tea because it’s romantic, and we’re starved. He gives me more honesty than I expected, like crying into paper, for this virgin heart— and my kitchen table, shiny and bare, becomes special. A powerful place. “Birthday Cake” (photo by Flickr user Will Clayton) Turning 25 25. My age is a plucky guide to a private, darkened hallway of extremes. Now, my choices are still fresh, limitless, but they’ll expire in five years— I’ve been told. Images in front of me tighten in color; I care more, while time squirms next to me in my old car. Hours act demanding, each morning that I drive to a job, too far— undeserving of my youth. – Merica Teng work as a writer and English professor in La Mirada, California. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from California State University, Long Beach, and won the David Sedaris Humor Writing Contest at UCLA in 2009. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Mas Tequila Review, Carnival Lit Magazine, Subliminal Interiors, and Crack the Spine.

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Interviews

Cephrael’s Hand: An interview with Melissa McPhail

Please enjoy this Novel Publicity interview with Melissa McPhail, author of the spellbinding epic fantasy, Cephrael’s Hand. Then read on to learn how you can win huge prizes as part of this blog tour, including a Kindle Fire, $450 in Amazon gift cards, and 5 autographed copies of the book. Your debut novel, Cephrael’s Hand, was the winner of The Written Arts Award for both the best fiction and the best Sci-Fi/Fantasy categories–congratulations! So what was the inspiration behind this story, and can you tell us a little bit about it? I started the first version of Cephrael’s Hand when I was going through a difficult time in my life. I needed the cathartic joy that I’d always found in writing. I didn’t set out to write a novel—just to write. That first draft had no planning, no world-building, no design. It was pure creative inspiration. And it was awful! But the characters… I had brought them into being, and they insisted that they had a story to tell. It took my growing as a writer—and over a million words tossed into the trash—to finally tell their story properly. Cephrael’s Hand is the result of a philosopher’s approach to fantasy. It’s the story of one man’s steadfast determination to save the realm he swore to protect, and his willingness to do anything it takes to accomplish that end—even to betray those he loves. It’s the story of the unlikely pieces (men and women) who unknowingly fall beneath his shadow, and of the players who follow him. Ultimately, it’s a story of salvation. I see fantasy as a metaphor for life in this world. We all face tests of our honor. We’re all working to accomplish our goals and flourish and prosper. Few of us set out to do evil. Yet evil is done. Goals are abandoned. Integrity is compromised. We totter precariously on thin wires as we move through the labyrinth of life. I strive with my series to illuminate those wire-thin paths, that we might find solid ground beneath them. Without giving away too much, can you reveal what’s in store for the readers when they crack open the book? If you listen to my critics—too many characters! But this is an epic fantasy dealing with a conflict that spans multiple kingdoms. It takes a team to save the world. Hopefully you’ll meet interesting characters and a world you can easily find your own place within.  You’ll discover pirates, princes, star-crossed lovers and philosopher-soldiers. You’ll see many characters who are not as they appear, and a few who are exactly as they seem. You’ll find adventure on a perilous road with prince Ean val Lorian, and farcical escapades with Trell of the Tides and the pirate Carian vran Lea. You’ll often wonder who is good and who is evil—because most villains in real life are cloaked in shades of gray. Can you tell us more about some of the key concepts that inspired the world of Cephrael’s Hand? The story is crafted out of many of the philosophies I’ve studied. As I was planning Cephrael’s Hand, I had been reading about game philosophy. Game philosophy speaks on the importance of games in our lives and takes a look at their composition (barriers, purposes and freedoms) and their anatomy (pieces, players, maker of games). It’s a compelling concept with abundant applications, and I became immediately interested in exploring the ideas more via the story of Cephrael’s Hand. Balance is another concept that threads throughout the story. Exploration of this idea comes out of my study and practice of yoga. If ever a concept permeates our lives, the pursuit of balance is one. Whether seeking to balance work and parenthood, our social commitments and our private lives, or even just the juggle of that list of a thousand things we’ll never get to, every one of us is seeking balance in some fashion. Placing this concept within the framework of a fantasy story embellishes it with a magical lure. The Cephrael’s Hand constellation plays an important role in the book. Is there a real life constellation that plays a similarly important role in your life?  I can’t say that a particular constellation is important to me personally, though I’ve studied astrology for many years. But I’m drawn to the idea, both scientifically and philosophically, that we are all connected somehow with each other and the broader universe. String Theory and General Relativity play to this idea from the perspective of science. Certainly, if we are connected to the stars in some esoteric way, then the actions of the stars can impact us. Astrology believes this, and the graphing of natal charts proves an underlying truth in this ancient, mystical and often misunderstood science. Philosophies far and wide declare that we’ve descended or separated from a universal oneness and teach karmic values with the intent of helping us return or re-ascend to that harmonious state. The concept of balance in Cephrael’s Hand stems from this idea of universal connectivity. Ever since a linguist named Tolkien came along, language has been a very important aspect of the epic fantasy genre. What inspired the various languages in your book? The desert languages are based on Farsi or Arabic, depending on the tribe. Farsi is one of the oldest  languages still in use today, and its traditions lent themselves well to the Kandori culture, which is one of Alorin’s oldest races. Likewise Arabic, being originally a language of the nomadic tribes, seemed the correct base from which to draw the language of the Akkad. Even older than both of these languages in my novel is Old Alaeic, which is the original language of the angiel, the Maker’s blessed children, and of the two original races: the zanthyrs and the drachwyr. Old Alaeic draws primarily from Gaelic root words. I chose Gaelic because the language maintains some of the earliest roots of our Indo-European linguistic heritage. Its spellings and pronunciations are almost universally reminiscent of mythological beings from ancient times and are often associated, especially in the fantasy genre, with elves, Druids or other mystical races. Which other authors have served as influences and inspiration for your own work? I love lyrical writing, so my bookshelves host an eclectic mix (albeit heavily weighted with fantasy and science fiction). Those who first come to mind from the fantasy genre are Anne Rice, Patrick Rothfuss and Jacqueline Carey, all of whom carry on a great and fabulous romance with the English language, much to the ecstasy of millions. Being able to string words like pearls into a story that reads at times like poetry in motion seems the greatest pinnacle of storytelling skill. It’s been said that one of the most time-consuming processes of writing epic fantasy is world-building. Without giving too much away, what are a few of your favorite world aspects and what inspired them? As I wrote in a recent guest post, world-building and the magic system developed for the world are intimately connected. We can’t really describe a fantasy world without talking about the magic that rules it, because so much of what we understand about the world derives from our understanding of how the physical laws of the world work. In creating my world of Alorin, I established five “strands” of the lifeforce known as elae. These strands are a way of describing and codifying the lifeforce which is the source of energy in the world, but they are only one way of describing it. While most of the viewpoints I am writing from agree with describing the lifeforce in terms of “strands,” there are other races in Alorin who have codified it differently, darkly, or with less purity for lack of philosophical simplicity. I love exploring different viewpoints and imagining how each would describe a universal energy. I love examining the cultures that seek to describe this energy and how their ideals might alter their understanding of it. For example, the Adept race believes that Adepts are born with the ability to work one of the five strands, but only one. Yet some of the “Wildling” races are known to be able to innately work more than one strand. The Fhorgs race works blood sacrifice to fuel their magic. Would their magic work without such sacrifice? The Adepts believe that it would. Yet within the Adept philosophy, a working of magic requires faith both in the existence of power and in one’s ability to manipulate it. If the Fhorgs don’t believe themselves able to wield the lifeforce without letting blood, it follows that magic would become unavailable to them simply because of their lack of belief. Moreover, because the Fhorgs don’t limit their ideas of their magical ability to a five strand approach, it’s possible they might achieve more through the wielding of it–or not. These are existential questions for these two races, questions which set them at odds with each other. Questions from which derive conflicts and persecutions, intrigues and betrayals. Such explorations fuel both world-building and magic-system building, because their delineation establishes how the world works, how the people of the world interact with the energy that fuels it, how they interact with each other, and how they use the energy itself to work arcane acts. You grew up in a house full of musicians, but your creativity emerged in the form of writing. Have you always felt called to write? I always thought I would end up with a career in music like the rest of my family. I grew up harboring such an appreciation of these accomplished, classical musicians all around me, it seemed a natural course to follow in their footsteps. Instead, I stumbled into writing the way one sometimes bumps into providence, colliding with it accidentally. I happened to take a creative writing class in high school. My creative writing instructor believed the best way to teach writing was to send her students out to actually write. So I did—hundreds of pages over the next few years. Writing became both an outlet for my creativity and the escape reading had always provided. I know I share that love affair with many authors. At one time or another, most writers hit the wall and their work stalls because of the dreaded writer’s block. What do you do to get around or over this mental wall to resume writing? Usually I turn to music—either composing it or listening to it. If I can find a great new song, sometimes that will help inspire me out of the hole. When a scene just isn’t working, I’ve learned to go back to where I was last doing well in the story and scrap everything that came after. It’s an agonizing process, but often necessary. The Dagger of Adendigaeth, book two in your series, has just been published. How has your vision expanded from book one to book two, and what kind of creative growth have you experienced in your process this second time around? We grow as writers with every novel—at least I believe that’s the goal. Many of the things I gained in writing The Dagger of Adendigaeth are intangible, ineffable understandings of myself and my creative process. I think of those times of being fabulously, fantastically stuck and the final moment of inspiration that launched me out of that depressing well. I think of the plot twists that came to me completely without warning, and the absolute magic that is the creative process. The thing I loved most about writing this book was being able to explore so many viewpoints—especially the viewpoints of those characters who might be viewed as antagonists. But I don’t and never have seen them that way. It’s my greatest purpose in writing this series to be able to show the motivations and ideals that mold and shape each character. The more we can understand each other, the closer to a peaceful coexistence we will find, whether in the microcosm of our lives or the broader political and religious zones. Special Bonus Section As part of this special promotional extravaganza sponsored by Novel Publicity, the price of the Cephrael’s Hand eBook edition is just 99 cents this week. What’s more, by purchasing this fantastic book at an incredibly low price, you can enter to win many awesome prizes. The prizes include a Kindle Fire, $450 in Amazon gift cards, and 5 autographed copies of the book. All the info you need to win one of these amazing prizes is RIGHT HERE. Remember, winning is as easy as clicking a button or leaving a blog comment–easy to enter; easy to win! To win the prizes: Purchase your copy of Cephrael’s Hand for just 99 cents Enter the Rafflecopter contest on Novel Publicity Visit today’s featured social media event About Cephrael’s Hand:  Two brothers find themselves on opposite sides of a great battle, neither knowing the other is alive. A traitor works in exile while preparing for the disaster only he knows is coming. A race of beings from beyond the fringe of the universe begin unmaking the world from within. And all across the land, magic is dying. Cephrael’s Hand is the first novel in the award-winning series A Pattern of Shadow and Light. Get it on Amazon or Barnes & Noble. About the author: Melissa McPhail is a classically trained pianist, violinist and composer, a Vinyasa yoga instructor, and an avid Fantasy reader. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, their twin daughters and two very large cats. Visit Melissa on her website, Twitter, Facebook, or GoodReads.

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Erotic romance: An interview with Emily Jane Trent

Emily Jane Trent writes contemporary erotic romance. As the author of the five-part Masquerade series, she promises readers “rich characters and engaging plots that will leave you wanting more.” Books in the series include Passion Unleashed, Passion Tempted, Passion Shattered, Passion Revealed and Passion Embraced. We recently had a chance to ask her about her interests and influences; here’s what she had to say. Who are your favorite authors and/or influences? Beth Kery writes erotic romance in a style that suits me. She understands what motivates her characters and her stories are rich because of it. Sylvia Day is the other romance author I admire. She’s written for many years and has a wide range of romance stories to offer. She writes a lot. She releases books frequently. She’s a real pro and I enjoy her writing. Do you have a favorite quote about the writing process? “If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot… reading is the creative center of a writer’s life… You cannot hope to sweep someone else away by the force of your writing until it has been done to you.” —Stephen King How does your geographic location influence your writing? I live in the U.S., so I’m sure my style reflects the culture I grew up with. I write about places I have been and places I haven’t. I can do research to make that realistic. But I’m sure that the California girl in me comes through in my writing. And that’s a good thing. Writers should be who they are. Has your past influenced your writing at all? Definitely, my past gives me the wealth of understanding to draw from. What I’ve been through and my personal relationships have educated me about life and people. From that, I can create believable characters and entertain my readers with a story that has richness to it. That’s only achieved through living and tapping into one’s own experiences. Pick your poison: what’s your favorite writing fuel? Coffee and chocolate, gotta have it. Do you have any special writing routines, exercises or superstitions when starting a new project? I have to write in a block of time, non-stop. Once I get into the story, I’ve left the real world. I’m really living the story vicariously and letting the characters talk to me. Interruptions destroy the flow. I’m best in the mornings. So, I start early and work for 4-5 hours. Write first and do other activities like promotion later. Other activities don’t require the creative energy that writing does. What are your hobbies, outside of writing? Wine tasting, reading, cooking, fitness, movies and enjoying friends. All those activities go together. I drink wine with good food. I cook healthy, tasty food that supports my fitness. And enjoying friends is often having coffee together, sharing wine or cooking dinner for them. Movies and reading can be done while eating and drinking! It’s just one big, happy circle. If you weren’t a writer, what would you be? I’d do watercolor paintings. I’m an artist and that was my focus in college. My writing method is a lot like watercolor painting which is done by layering the paint colors. My stories are written broadly, start to finish. Then I go back and add more detail. I enrich characters, fill in scenes. But I have to have the whole story there first. It’s like the canvas that I can keep filling in until it’s done. The process feels like watercolor painting to me. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be? I dream of going to Argentina. They have wine country I’d like to visit. The country looks beautiful and I’d like to try the relaxed lifestyle and the food. But only to visit. As a self-published author, do you have any advice specifically for self-publishers? Yes, my best advice is to outline the story and then write it start to finish. Write for yourself, which means: if you like what you’re writing you’re likely on track. Don’t be second guessing what your readers want during the actual writing. You already know what they like and that will come through naturally in your creation. Never edit, rewrite or think about selling the book during the writing. That will stop you in your tracks. Only write when you write. After it’s done, there will be plenty of time to edit and do all the other stuff. Don’t kill your creativity by correcting or criticizing your writing before it’s even done. Keep the two separate. Write, write, write, and only then review. What are you currently working on? Currently, I’m writing a series of novellas. It’s my take on the virgin meets billionaire, but with a new twist and unique characters. It’s light BDSM and very romantic. I had planned a trilogy but the characters have developed so much, it looks like it will fill four novellas, maybe more. I’ve also got a story called “Passion Ignited” in the new Vixotica erotica anthology, which is available via iTunes now. Want to know more about Emily Jane Trent? You can find her website at emilyjanetrent.com, purchase her books at Amazon, or connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

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Reviews

The Sound of Loneliness by Craig Wallwork

Reviewed by Laura Roberts Set in Manchester, England in 1991, The Sound of Loneliness follows desolate narrator Daniel Crabtree from his dreary apartment, to drearier pubs, and back again. Although Daniel is ostensibly a writer, he has only completed a single short story thus far, and has dreams of making it big, though little ambition beyond charging his friend “in publishing” with getting someone interested in the story. Living off his monthly unemployment checks, Daniel begs or borrows (and occasionally steals) everything, from food and drink to the shabby furnishings in his apartment. Too proud to admit to his family that he is a starving artist, he makes up grandiose tales of his success for both his mother and uncle’s benefit. Is he kidding himself, or does he really think that this one story will one day make a name for him? It’s hard to tell, as Daniel often comes off as delusional, thanks to his overinflated ego. Despite the fact that he occasionally realizes how awful his writing is, he continues to rage against the publishing industry that rejects him, do the bare minimum to receive his monthly welfare checks, and otherwise continue his sad existence. If this sounds like a tale you’ve heard before, you’re right. The UK apparently has thousands – perhaps millions – of these aspiring author types, living off the government, avoiding an honest day’s work, and seemingly in thrall to the falsehood that suffering and poverty make Great Art. What makes Craig Wallwork’s book different than the dime-a-dozen plot is that the author himself sees through this ruse, and shows his audience what suffering and poverty really bring. To wit: bitterness, hatred, a growling belly, growing insanity, debt, and the inability to change one’s position in life. Oh, and let’s not forget the alcoholism, for it wouldn’t be a tale of soul-crushing poverty in the UK without the omnipresent pub! Oddly enough, though I thoroughly detested Daniel Crabtree as a character, I found Wallwork’s book quite engaging. Perhaps it was the dreary day that lent an English air to my reading, requiring a hot cup of tea and a purring cat for accompaniment, but I found myself curious to see where this sad sack (Daniel, that is) would take me. Though Daniel is, indeed, a terrible writer (and would be a terrible human being, were he real), readers might take pleasure in seeing him so thoroughly thwarted by his sorry attempts at publishing. After all, if the cream rises to the top, there will always be the chunks of whey and assorted detritus to sink to the bottom. What of these would-be writers? They are the Daniel Crabtrees of the world, persistently beating their own heads against the wall, perpetuating the sorry stereotype of the starving artist, who suffers humiliations for his art. And yet here we see that this humiliations are not really for art’s sake at all. They are merely the pride that goeth before the character’s fall. Is it still a tragedy when one’s tragic flaw is the belief that one is actually better than all of the fools he reads about in books? Though The Sound of Loneliness is truly a portrait of a young man desperate to become an artist who will likely never succeed, and thus a rather dismal view for aspiring authors, it is perhaps a more realistic take on artistic dreams. After all, we cannot all go from rags to riches, à la J.K. Rowling. Some of us will fail. And what then? To find out what happens to this dream deferred, you’ll have to read http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1780996012/ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1780996012&linkCode=as2&tag=blackheartmag-20The Sound of Loneliness. EXTRA BONUS SECTION Who doesn’t love prizes? You could win either of two $25 Amazon gift cards, an autographed copy of The Sound of Loneliness, or an autographed copy of one of its tour mates, Stranger Will by Caleb J. Ross or Angel Falls by Michael Paul Gonzalez. Here’s what you need to do… Enter the Rafflecopter contest Leave a comment on my blog. That’s it! One random commenter during this tour will win a $25 gift card. Visit more blogs for more chances to win. The full list of participating bloggers can be found here. The other $25 gift card and the three autographed books will be given out via Rafflecopter. You can find the contest entry form linked below or on the official Perfect Edge Trifecta tour page via Novel Publicity. Good luck! a Rafflecopter giveaway – Craig Wallwork lives in West Yorkshire, England. He is an artist, filmmaker and writer. His short stories have appeared in many publications in the US and the UK. He is the author of the short story collection Quintessence of Dust, and the novels To Die Upon a Kiss and The Sound of Loneliness. Craig is also the fiction editor at Menacing Hedge Magazine. Connect with Craig on his website, Facebook, GoodReads, or Twitter.

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Angel Falls by Michael Paul Gonzalez

Reviewed by Laura Roberts It’s been rough lately for the Lord of Darkness, with ex-girlfriend drama rearing its head at inconvenient moments, ancient gods returning to take over the universe, and Satan’s own unstoppable laziness. But whatever. Satan is okay, and he thinks you’re okay, too. This whole eternal damnation thing is all a bit of a misunderstanding. He runs Hell as a resort, kind of. A vacation spot. The point is, he’s not a bad guy. He’s trying to save Heaven and all of creation, and he only has a dimwitted giant, a surly waitress, and a monkey to help him. So, a thank you might be nice. Maybe buy him a cup of coffee next time you see him. And you will see him. It’s the Apocalypse, and all that. Thus begins your journey through Angel Falls, a comedy about hell written by Michael Paul Gonzalez. And here you thought hell was all screaming, torture, and fire ‘n’ brimstone! Satan has been a bit lax with the torture and such, given his general disinterest in being the Evil Overlord of the afterlife. When he finds out that a certain socialite has been trying to break into Heaven through shady means, God Himself tasks Satan with the job of stopping her. Oh, and did I mention the devil’s lost his balls (a pair of anima crystals) and has to undertake this quest with the limitations of a mortal? Bummer, dude. Populated with a cast of characters that includes familiar faces from the Old Testament, as well as a round-up of ancient gods and goddesses from around the globe, Gonzalez’s tale is quite the wild ride. Like a comic version of Anne Rice’s vampire universe (back when vamps sucked blood and were badass villains – or at least hardcore goths, and not sparkly hipster douchebags seducing teenagers), the book riffs on the question “What if Satan weren’t such a bad guy after all, just kind of misunderstood?” As in Rice’s Memnoch the Devil, it seems God and Satan aren’t quite so different after all, and Gonzalez’s devil is supposed to be helping the souls in his sprawling city of Angel Falls reach their ultimate destination, whether that’s Heaven or insanity. Instead he’s left the souls in his care to their own devices, leaving pamphlets at their doors with helpful tips on surviving the afterlife (a nod to Beetlejuice’s Handbook for the Recently Deceased), and allowing them to make their own decisions. Free will at last! As a reformed Catholic, I found the fast-and-furious Biblical references worked well, particularly when used to poke holes in the theology. As a former Anne Rice enthusiast, I also enjoyed the alternate take on Heaven and Hell, good and evil, God vs. Satan dichotomies. After all, are we not all equally good and bad, yin and yang, all wrapped up in the same fleshy package? If you’ve ever wondered what earned Satan all his epithets in the first place, and found Milton’s take just a tad too stodgy for your tastes, check out Angel Falls. EXTRA BONUS SECTION Who doesn’t love prizes? You could win either of two $25 Amazon gift cards, an autographed copy of Angel Falls, or an autographed copy of one of its tour mates, The Sound of Loneliness by Craig Wallwork or Stranger Will by Caleb J Ross. Here’s what you need to do… Enter the Rafflecopter contest Leave a comment on my blog. That’s it! One random commenter during this tour will win a $25 gift card. Visit more blogs for more chances to win. The full list of participating bloggers can be found here. The other $25 gift card and the 3 autographed books will be given out via Rafflecopter. You can find the contest entry form linked below or on the official Perfect Edge Trifecta tour page via Novel Publicity. Good luck! a Rafflecopter giveaway – Michael Paul Gonzalez lives and writes in Los Angeles. He is the editor at ThunderDomeMag.com, an online lit zine and small press. He is at work on his next novel as you read this. Seriously. He probably just rattled off a really amazing chapter, and someday you’ll read it and think back to this moment, and exhale. Connect with Michael on his website, Facebook, GoodReads, or Twitter.

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Character Crushes

Character Crush: Todd of Scary Kisses

I hate to reduce the man to trite categories, but for the sake of introduction: Todd is a bisexual Aquarian New Yorker (by way of Pennsylvania) fashion model-slash-collage artist caught up in a bizarre love triangle with an arrogant Leo fashion model named Frank, and a nymphomaniac drug dealer named Lucy. Lucy’s sun sign is not mentioned in the novel (Scary Kisses by Brad Gooch; best novel ever written, motherfucker) but I’m guessing she is a Gemini because she is very good at playing games and seducing men. The novel opens with Todd masturbating on a beach. After he achieves orgasm Todd mumbles to a helicopter passing overhead, “Drop a bomb on me. It won’t matter. I’m a bone.” Damn, make a bitch swoon. I’ve bought Scary Kisses for at least two potential lovers, hoping they would love it at least a little, perhaps say to themselves, “Any woman who loves this book is a woman I must get in my bed as soon as possible.” It didn’t work out that way. The last potential lover asked me if I was serious about the book. He was scared of Scary Kisses. He was nothing at all like Todd. What the hell was I thinking? Unlike the flummoxed potential lover who turned out to be a dud, Todd is very much a man after mine own love addict’s heart. He likes to fuck. Specifically, he likes to fuck Lucy. He’s pretty damn concentrated in his lust and love for Lucy. I like that about Todd. Yes, there is the one time with Frank in Milan but it’s like bad Chinese food: Todd had to have it at the time, he was starving for it, but it made him feel so terrible he never ate there again. I will someday get the message Todd left on Lucy’s answering machine tattooed to my back: I’m sorry I missed your call baby. I’m sorry I missed our Chinese dinner. I just had to be a zombie for a while on my own. You wouldn’t have liked me anyway. But if you’re looking for a man who knows how to stir your taffy the way you like it… if you’re dying for a tongue to separate those soft hairs of your youknow-what… if you want to be properly felt up… pleeeaze call me back. – Misti Rainwater-Lites is the author of several books. Her novel, Bullshit Rodeo, is forthcoming from Epic Rites Press later this year. Misti maintains a blog at www.roxixmas.com.

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Character Crush: Octave Parango of 99 Francs

Octave Parango is an ad designer and the main character of the acclaimed French novel 99 Francs by Frederic Beigbeder (aka 9.99: A Novel, in English). Octave is a creator. In fact, he is a genius—at least from the point of view of his superiors. Not one brainless idiot for the last 2,000 years has ever been as powerful as Octave. You see, Octave is the man who imposes his ideas on the flock of consumers. Octave is young, handsome, cynical, sloppy, sweet and sarcastic. He only wears trendy brands (sometimes he makes them trendy), drives a luxury car, can seduce any girl (or guy), and most importantly—in contrast to all these directors, senior managers, vice presidents and so on—Octave isn’t afraid of losing his job in the advertising agency. Why? Because he is the best creative designer, and there is no doubt! Octave has no equal in the universe. He is engaged in advertising. He decides what you will want tomorrow. For him: “man—it is the same product as everything else.” In some ways, he is a god. He has plenty of money, women and cocaine. But, on the other hand, Octave is miserable, lonely and unhappy. Also, he is angry, cynical, devoured by his own bile and hatred for the world. He hates the job that has made him powerful. He has everything, and yet he has nothing. He’s alone in a huge apartment, has intimate relationships only with questionable-content videocassettes. The hamster that lived in his office was Octave’s only friend. He lives on drugs, hates his job and amuses himself by making bloody writings on the walls in the toilet of his own office. Why do I want to write about this character? Probably because he is incredibly human and doesn’t hide it. Octave looks as tired and beat-up as any junkie. But as soon as he begins to talk, he becomes a different person. You can tell him everything, because he understands a lot more about this rotten world than all of us put together. I always thought that people became cynical and critical for two reasons: either they are very stupid, or they understand a lot more than the rest of us. See the wrong side of the world, mired in advertising and seeking to impose someone else’s will upon humanity, and you end up like Octave, whose job is to impose that will. As a result, he both idolizes and despises himself. I have always been attracted to those men—the mysterious, complex and contradictory. But at the same time they are very naïve and sincere, without pompous politeness or gentlemanly habits. They inspire maternal feelings in me. Can Octave be saved? Read the book to find out. 99 Francs (French edition) – $16.46 9.99 (English edition) – $22.74 – Korah Morrison is an internet marketing specialist, copywriter and consultant at College-Paper.org. Writing is her hobby. She likes to write essays on any topic and for everyone who tells her: “Hey! Write my essay please!”

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Path to Publication

This Moment by Jeff Rivera

Bestselling author Jeff Rivera is re-launching his first novel, Forever My Lady, this week at Amazon. To help you get to know Jeff, he has written the following blog post about his journey from childhood poverty to a successful writing career. Dio Rodriguez grew up on the streets and knew all too well the hard, cool feeling of the barrel of a gun tucked down the back of his jeans. But his hard exterior softened when he met Jennifer. Jennifer understands Dio like no one else and makes him want to be a better man. Suddenly a drive-by shooting lands Dio in a prison boot camp and sends Jennifer to the hospital. When Dio learns that Jennifer is pregnant, he realizes that he must find a way to turn his life around and return to his lady. But can trainee Rodriguez get his act together among the hardcases in prison? And will Jennifer be waiting for him if and when he does? I think about this moment, where I am and where I’ve come from. I’m at a crossroads – we always are, in one way or another. When I began my trek as a professional writer, I didn’t want rejection so I decided to self-publish my novel, Forever My Lady, and I didn’t have any money, really. I barely scraped together about $200 to print the first books, so the only thing I had going for me was the passion to tell this story I just had to tell. I believe that when you want something bad enough, and you’re willing to work toward it, anything is possible. I know you’ve probably heard that before, but I’m living proof of it. When I was 19 years old, we were homeless living in our car and the only thing that kept me going was my writing. It was then, when I would go into the public library, that I wouldn’t have to think about how bad life had been. I didn’t have to think about how embarrassing it was to ask McDonald’s if they had any food they were throwing out or go into the grocery store and hope to God they had some samples to eat.  It was then, in that moment, that I could get lost in another world and although I felt like I had no control over my life at that time, in that moment, in that story, I could control things. I didn’t have to be a victim. I could conquer all. That’s why I wanted to write this novel, Forever My Lady, to take people on an emotional journey they could relate to. To put things in it that I’d been through in hopes that other people could connect with me. Having been an extremely lonely teen growing up, writing was my way of hoping to connect to people heart to heart. That’s why it was so important for me to re-launch Forever My Lady, with the hope that it would connect to a whole new generation of people. Even when people told me to give up, move on, that “Hispanics don’t read books,” that I was a dreamer and worse, when they talked about me behind my back, I kept clinging to the dream that one day people would “get” this story and it would touch hearts. I hope that if you haven’t read this novel it will do exactly that – that it will touch your heart and you can get to know a little bit about me through these characters, and maybe even get to know a little bit more about yourself. Find out more about Jeff Rivera and Forever My Lady at JeffRivera.com. You can grab a copy of Jeff’s book at Amazon, follow him on Twitter @mrjeffrivera, or read about his other books on Goodreads. – Jeff Rivera is an author and inspirational media personality. He has appeared on national television, radio and print in such outlets as Forbes.com, The Boston Globe, Publishers Weekly, Right On! Magazine, Rotarian Magazine, TMZ, WABC, WNBC, WCBS, SITV, American Latino and NPR. His humble beginnings of living in American poverty on welfare and food stamps as the child of a single mother, to his days living in his car and final rise to becoming a published author, journalist and media personality have inspired many.

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Lobster Telephone

Black Heart Haiku Contest Winner

After reading through the submissions to our Haiku Contest, including a short list of poems by runners up including Luke Aditsan, Drew Jennings, Daniel Leonard, Mark Leci and Ellaraine Lockie, we are pleased to announce the winner of our 2012 Haiku Contest: Colin D. Halloran! Colin D. Halloran is a former enlisted infantryman who served in Afghanistan with the U.S. Army. He has since earned two degrees, most recently an MFA in Poetry from Fairfield University. He is an internationally published poet and photographer and the winner of the 2012 Main Street Rag Poetry Book Award for Shortly Thereafter, a collection of poems about his service in Afghanistan and the impact it had on him upon returning to the civilian world. He can be found online at colindhalloran.com. Here is Colin’s winning haiku: Lying next to you I cannot feel you, only that you are not her For his winning poem, Colin receives $100 in cash, and inclusion in our forthcoming Poetry for Lovers ebook, to be published as part of a collaboration with Buttontapper Press in time for Valentine’s Day 2013. Thanks to all who entered the contest for sharing their haiku with us, and we look forward to holding another poetry competition soon!

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Fifty Shades of Grey – The Infographic

Ever wondered whether you ought to download a copy of the infamous Fifty Shades of Grey, or grab a copy at your local grocery store? Well wonder no more! Here’s a handy-dandy infographic from Neo Mammalian Studios that’ll give you the highlights (and lowlights) of the world’s most inexplicable best-seller. P.S. Problems reading this? Click the image to embiggen!

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