Friday, November 20, 2015

Imagine Sexy ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #MySexyAuthors #Saturday7 #MSS119

Welcome to the 119th week of My Sexy Saturday.

This week’s theme: Imagine Sexy

As writers of sexy books, we have all imagined sexy. Whether he comes riding in on a horse or in a space ship, we know sexy. We know how it looks, we know how it tastes and feels and the sounds associated with sexy. We can imagine each and every one of them. And this week we want you to share what you’ve imagined as an author about sexy.

My second novel, a pirate’s romance titled “Treasured Chest” released on November 24th is available at Black Opal Books Amazon Barnes & Noble AllRomance eBooks Smashwords and Kobobooks


The last thing Captain Sirena expected to find on a desolate island was...him!

When Carmen Ventura takes up her post as commander of the Strega, she becomes the new Captain Sirena, the legendary pirate most people think is just a myth created to scare children. Her first quest is to search for the “treasured chest” hidden by her predecessor. But before she can even begin the hunt, she runs into Marko Lucin, captain of the Levant and Carmen’s most insane adventure yet.

How can the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen be a bloody pirate?

Never one to pass up an adventure, especially where pretty women are concerned, Marko finds his ultimate challenge in Carmen. Not only does he fall for her courage, spunk, and intelligence, but the lady pirate can also help him get what he wants—the famous treasure everyone whispers about. His only problem—how long can he play the charming captain before she discovers his true intentions?


She was ready to walk away and leave him stranded...but the man had a treasure map. What if it was real?

Sirena’s mind raced. Even with different colors hoisted, after the last night’s raid, she ran the risk that the Strega’s sails would be detected as soon as they appeared on the horizon. Her ship could not approach the city’s defensive walls. Not until all the rumors settled and no survivors would recognize them. On the other hand, she couldn’t pass through the Pila Gates as a lone woman. Last time she had spoken to her brother, he had said he’d be docking in Ragusa’s harbor on the second Sunday of August. Still two days away, but she should pay him a visit. Maybe he’d been home and had news.
“I possess a map.” The man’s voice snapped her out of her planning.
She lowered her sword, and her glance, to his feet and flicked a crab into the sea. “Charts are of no interest to me.”
“Ah.” He stroked his chin, leaving sooty fingerprints on his blond beard. “But this is not an ordinary map.” His grin exposed a row of white teeth, a rarity. “It leads to a treasure.”
“Treasure means different things to different people.” Something familiar reflected in his eyes. She stepped back. Now, where had she seen him before?
“True,” he said, “but I believe this map is real.” The same sparkle flashed in his eyes, reaffirming that flicker of recognition, but she still couldn’t place the sense of familiarity.
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’ve had it all my life.” He shrugged and gave a shy smile. “Call me a captain, but I’ve never been able to make any sense of the damn thing.”


Treasured Chest is captivating and action packed. The scenes were so vivid I felt the ship’s deck rolling beneath me while shouting commands to the crew and dreaming of being thoroughly kissed by Captain Marko. Treasured Chest is an exciting story, a shelf-keeper. – JJ Keller, best-selling author of Trade Agreement

I liked the character development and the plot, and it is obvious that Jelic did her homework as the shipping terms, etc., appear to be very authentic. I didn’t once come across something and said, wait a minute this is supposed to be historical—as sometimes happens with historical romances. Treasured Chest is fun and entertaining and the plot has some nice twists and turns. – Taylor, reviewer

I found Treasured Chest to be a strong second novel for Zrinka Jelic. While I enjoyed her first book, I think Jelic’s writing is much stronger in this second book. The character development is excellent, the dialogue convincing, and the plot intriguing. – Regan, reviewer


 Zrinka Jelic lives in Ontario, Canada, a member of the Romance Writers of America and its chapter Kiss of Death, as well as Savvy Authors, she writes contemporary fiction—which leans toward the paranormal—and adds a pinch of history. Her characters come from all walks of life, and although she prefers red, romance comes in many colors. Given Jelic’s love for her native Croatia and the Adriatic Sea, her characters usually find themselves dealing with a fair amount of sunshine, but that’s about the only break they get. Alas, some rain must fall in everyone’s life.

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Stay sexy and visit all of the participating blogs. 

Friday, November 13, 2015

Their Sexy Gaze ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #MySexyAuthors #Saturday7 #MSS117

Welcome to the 118th week of My Sexy Saturday.

This week’s theme: Their Sexy Gaze

Readers, please visit us at our new Author Central where we’ll be sharing even more from our authors besides Saturday’s snippets. We’d love to have each and everyone of you there as we’re starting mid-November and hope to bring you lots of fun and even some prizes on the way.

This week’s theme is Their Sexy Gaze. Have you ever seen a couple who look so adoringly at each other? Makes you wonder just what they are thinking about. Are they thinking about the last time they made love? Or how about the conversation they just had?

The point is that lovers have eyes only for each other. Sometimes the gaze is loving and sometimes not but you always know they are a couple destined to be together forever. We want to see your interpretation of a lover’s sexy gaze and how it works into your story.

And this week I'm subletting my blog to Alexis Alvarez, she's promoting her brand new release Myka & The Millionaire. I have a copy patiently waiting on my Kindle, and can't wait to get into the story. 
 Hi! Thanks so much for having me on your blog. I’m Alexis Alvarez, and I’d like to share from my new novel, Myka and the Millionaire. It’s a full-length BDSM romance with an HEA and lots of consensual kink, and it will publish with Stormy Night Publications on Nov 13th.
Blurb for Myka and the Millionaire 

Computer expert Myka Thomas is determined to start her own business, and the last thing she needs is a man bossing her around and getting in the way. But Gabriel Chevalier is not just any man, and when the dashing, dominant millionaire makes his interest in her very clear, Myka cannot resist his advances. Stripped bare, spanked soundly, and brought to one shattering climax after another, she soon finds herself both yielding even more completely to his command of her body and even begging shamelessly for more of his masterful lovemaking.
As Myka juggles two demanding jobs, she savors the time she spends in Gabriel's palatial home. When she is in his presence, surrendering to his firm, loving control seems natural, even when that means submitting to a painful, embarrassing spanking when she has been disobedient. Before she can stop herself, Myka is falling hard for Gabriel, but can she dare to risk giving her heart to a man with so many shadows in his past that there may be no room for her in his future?
Excerpt from Myka and the Millionaire
A few weeks later, on Thursday night, Myka was busy on a conference call with a client team, discussing program requirements, rubbing her bare toes into the plush carpet, and letting her shower-wet hair drip down the back of her robe. Gabriel strode in with a large glass of lemon ice water, his chest bare, in worn blue jeans. He kissed her lips, knocking off her headset. Myka giggled and shooed him away, returning to her call.
Gabriel stood smiling at her for a moment, then got down and knelt under the table, right in front of her chair. As she looked down at him, he mouthed, “open your legs,” to her, and slid her thighs apart.
Myka squeaked and coughed to mask it. She put the call on mute. “Gabriel, no! I have three clients on conference. You can’t do that.”
“You owe me this,” he teased her. “Go back to your call. You’ll hardly notice me down here.”
Myka pushed the button, absolutely sure that wasn’t going to be true. “No, I’m still here, Steve.” She sucked in her breath, because Gabriel leaned in and buried his head between her thighs, and licked at the thin fabric of her silk panties with his warm tongue. She made a small moaning noise and coughed again.
“Stop,” she whispered to him, then added out loud, “No, please keep going. We were at bullet number three?” She nodded to herself. “Mmm hmm. That’s right.”
Gabriel pulled the panties to one side and thrust his tongue into her, licking deep and firmly across her wet body. She squirmed, trying to get away, but he held her hips in his hands, keeping her legs open with his body and arms. Her breathing hitched a bit. “Yes, the next meeting will be Friday at ten a.m.”
Gabriel spread her labia with his fingers and began to tongue her clit, just the way she loved it. He did this when he wanted her to come hard and fast; he knew how to get her crazy for him almost instantaneously. Myka writhed in the chair, not sure if she was trying to get away, or trying to entice him closer.
“Steve, I need you to add some information to the presentation about the user interface.” Her voice cracked and she grabbed at the glass of water, but her hand shook as she gulped, so she put it down hard. “Steve, I’ll need to call you back tomorrow. I have—”
Steve continued talking, and Myka was in a state of torture. She needed to move, to moan, to make sounds. She needed to grab Gabriel’s head and pull him closer. But instead she had to sit here, letting him lick her senseless, while she talked to her teammates about things that had completely fled her brain by this point.
“Okay,” she said weakly. “Let’s wrap it up for tonight. Thanks for the meeting, everyone. Oh!” she cried out, as Gabriel gave her an especially wicked lick. “No, just my pet dog,” she said darkly into the phone. “He’s causing a ton of trouble. Yes, he’s new. Nearly housebroken. Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.”
She hung up and ripped off the headset. “Gabriel, you’re insane! I had three people on the phone! And you,” and she went into a moan as he swirled his tongue around her clit. She leaned back in her chair, tensing her thighs. “Oh, God, you know what that does to me, baby.”
“I do know,” said Gabriel, talking into her skin. “That’s why I’m doing it.”
He pushed at her thighs to spread them even wider, then put his mouth back on her clit and sucked. Myka screamed as the orgasm came over her suddenly, no warning, filling her with white-hot pleasure that blanked out her brain and made her whole body tremble. She shuddered under his mouth for a long minute, writhing and crying out, until the spasms of pleasure died down. “Oh, God. Gabriel. That was amazing. But you had me making orgasm noises on the phone!” She tried to kick at him, but he was still holding her thighs.
“A dog, ma chèrie? You referred to me as a pet?” he scowled, but Myka saw the smile in his eyes.
“Well, I had to say something!” she defended herself. “They were all, are you okay? I couldn’t say that my fiancé was under the table licking my pussy.”
Gabriel laughed out loud. “No, I suppose you could not.” He came out from under the table and drank her water, draining the glass. “Hard work, but I’m happy to do it for you,” he said, reaching under her robe to tweak her nipple.
“Hey,” protested Myka.
“And now,” said Gabriel with a wicked grin. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish you. You know the rules. No referring to me as a pet. And you don’t ever get to say no to my mouth on your pussy.”
“I never heard the pet one before,” said Myka, stepping closer and tracing the line of hair that lead down his bare chest into his jeans. “I think you made that up right now.”
“I’m going to give you a good hard spanking,” he said softly into her ear, stopping her hand from its gently exploration, and Myka felt herself go all liquid as she always did at those words.
“Go into the bedroom and get out the cuffs and the crop,” he told her.
“Yes, sir,” said Myka, leaning up to kiss his lips. He tasted of lemon and her own arousal. She hurried into the bedroom and got the necessary items, sucking in her breath to see what he already had waiting on the nightstand. But she quickly got into position, kneeling with her palms open on her thighs, head down, legs wide so he could see her when he walked in.
“Beautiful, my love,” he said to her with pleasure, and Myka wiggled. “Now,” he added with a smile, “get up and let me bind those lovely wrists.” He fastened the handcuffs, then had her lie down over the edge of the bed. “While I spank you,” he told her in a seductive voice. “I want you to wear this plug. I’m going to take your ass tonight before I lick you into oblivion again as many times as I can.”

Thanks so much for having me on your blog! Happy reading, everyone.

Get copy on Amazon 
About Alexis Alvarez
Alexis Alvarez is a romance writer, a photographer, an engineer, a dachshund owner, a mother, a reader, and the kind of person who enjoys inappropriate jokes with her family.  Her romance book heroines are strong, intelligent women who enjoy submission on their own terms and do not compromise their integrity and feminism.  When she’s not travelling or taking pictures, you can find her in her home office, drinking La Croix water and dreaming up new novels. 

Thank you for visiting my blog. Stay sexy this Saturday and hop to all of the below fine blogs to find out what they have to offer. 

Saturday, October 31, 2015

Our Sexy Halloween ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #MySexyAuthros #Saturday7 #MSS116

Welcome to the 116th week of My Sexy Saturday.

This week’s theme: Our Sexy Halloween

Readers, don’t forget to visit us at our new Author Central where we’ll be sharing even more from our authors besides Saturday’s snippets. We’d love to have each and everyone of you there.

Wow…this is our first ever Halloween here at My Sexy Saturday…we’ve always skirted the day and tried to celebrate the best we could. But today, we can actually bring out all the ghosts, ghouls and scary monsters we keep in the closet. 
My debut novel “Bonded by Crimson” has been released on January 28th 2012, and it is available in all formats at Black Opal Books, Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble Kobobooks and All Romance eBooks

Kate’s heart hammered. The experience seemed so real. A low moan escaped her and she bit her lip. Soon warmth surged through her, causing her body to go limp. Her legs gave way underneath her, but Matthias—or whoever this man claimed to be now—wrapped his arm around her waist. His sweet, musky scent clung to her. Ecstasy filled her and she felt as if she hovered in the air. If he intended to kill her like this, she could imagine no better way to die. A voice echoed through her mind, speaking of undying love in centuries old Croatian.
 “Wake up,” he whispered close to her ear, his strong arms still locked around her.
 “I don’t want to.” Her head wobbled, exuberant with sheer happiness, a kind she had never experienced before.
 “You must.” He stroked her hair with tender fingers. “Wake up now.”
 “No. I want to stay like this. Forever.” She focused on his handsome face staring at her through her haze.
 His smooth cheek brushed against hers. “Me too, but you must wake.”
 The fog lifted and his image appeared, clearly now. She blinked once. Twice. What had happened? She pushed away from him and flattened her back against the wall.
 “You, you—”
 “You,” he said, pointing at her, “asked for proof.”

I had many wonderful reviews on this novel, but this is where you can read my absolute favorite review of “Bonded by Crimson”.

"Bonded by Crimson" is a beautifully written, almost poetic piece of literary fiction. The language to me was one of the main strengths of the book.
The story is simple: Kate arrives to become the latest of a string of failed nannies to a remote home in Canada. The Croatian widower both frightens and attracts her but she loves the children and stays…”

“Is Bonded by Crimson, by Zrinka Jelic, a paranormal romance? Yes, it is, but if you’re looking for ravenous werewolves, bloodthirsty vampires, vicious ghosts, or superhuman lovers, it probably isn’t your kind of book. While there are references to the past, the book is set in the present. In the present most people, including the female protagonist, don’t believe in, or at least try to make themselves think they don’t believe in, the paranormal. In this novel the paranormal is real…”

“A refreshing take on a vampire/ghost story. This is packed full of myth and Adriatic charm. I love that parts of the story is set in Croatia and we get to live the beautiful culture and scenery…”

“I Love the story of Kate and Matthias. Taking a position in Matthias as a nanny in Matthias household there is an instant attraction. Who is Matthias and what is his secrets?”

Where to find me?
Find me on: Facebook Twitter  Amazon Kobo
Watch the book trailer:

Stay sexy on this Halloween Saturday and visit all of the below participating blogs. 

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Something About Sexy ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #MySexyAuthros #Saturday7 #MSS115

Welcome to the 115th week of My Sexy Saturday.

This week’s theme: Something About Sexy

Readers, don’t forget to visit us at our new Author Central where we’ll be sharing even more from our authors besides Saturday’s snippets.

This week’s theme can be anything from fun and quirky to dark and serious. 

Today I'm subletting my blog to Susanne Matthews. She has a new book out, titled "White Lily". I can wait to read this book. I've read "White Carnation" and loved it. In fact that's one of the rare books I've read twice. I'm sure "White Lily" is just as great. 

Title: The White Lily

Author:  Susanne Matthews

The Harvester is out there … watching, waiting, biding his time.

FBI cult specialist Lilith Munroe lives in dread that one day the man who tortured her when a case went bad will find her again. So leaving her sanctuary in Quantico to join the Harvester Task Force in Boston is her version of hell. But the Harvester is kidnapping babies, and Lilith’s profiling skills may mean the difference between life and death for the most innocent in society.

Australian millionaire and former member of the New Horizon commune Jacob Andrews returns to the United States searching for his sister. Instead of the happy reunion he expects, he discovers she is dead and his twin brother may be responsible. He agrees to lend his law enforcement skills to help find his former cult leader before the man can implement his plan to kill millions.

Now uneasy partners, Jacob and Lilith must learn to trust each other even as they fight their growing attraction. But when Lilith’s greatest fears materialize, will Jacob be able to set aside his anger and save the woman he loves?

Sensuality Level: Sensual

Buy Links

About the author:

Susanne Matthews was born and raised in Cornwall, Ontario, Canada. She’s always been an avid reader of all types of books, but with a penchant for happily ever after romances. In her imagination, she traveled to foreign lands, past and present, and soared into the future. A retired educator, Susanne spends her time writing and creating adventures for her readers. She loves the ins and outs of romance, and the complex journey it takes to get from the first word to the last period of a novel. As she writes, her characters take on a life of their own, and she shares their fears and agonies on the road to self-discovery and love.

Follow Susanne on her:  Website    Blog    Facebook page    Twitter @jandsmatt

Amazon author page    and    Goodreads author page 

Stay sexy and visit all of the below participating blogs. 

Saturday, October 10, 2015

2015 October Frights Blog Hop-Day 10

Join 45+ paranormal and horror authors for ten days of screaming good fun. Books and prizes to be won!


10 of the Scariest Stories We've Ever Heard


**Originally published by Insidious Reflections, summer of 2005 (edited for current relevance.)**
***All pictures in this article are owned by the author.***

What better way to end this spooky blog hop than with a ghost story backed by true encounters? This investigative article is the first non-fiction piece I have ever published, thanks to the frightfully good folks at Insidious Reflections magazine (now defunct). The article has been edited to help with the flow of the writing and to include a slight update on the current situation of the pub, otherwise all facts that follow remain as they were when I first visited this historical haunted pub. I hope you enjoy it.

Being somewhat used to the curious media, Scott asked me what I wanted to know. Did I want to hear about the story of Emily or anything else in particular? Since I had already done my research, I didn’t need to spend Scott’s limited time having him repeat the building's history. I was more curious about the haunting and the strange, mostly unexplainable occurrences that went on over there. So I asked him the question: “Do you believe in ghosts?” It turned out he did.

Scott recounted a childhood memory about a night when his grandfather had visited him in his room even though he wasn’t accounted for in the house that night. A few days later, Scott’s grandfather passed away leaving Scott to believe that it was his grandfather’s spirit that had visited him that night, perhaps as a last farewell. Scott went on to say that in today’s world, with so many strange encounters being recorded all the time and with the pure fact that we can exist that it’s difficult not to believe in ghosts. Not only did I have to agree with him, but I was now more eager than ever to hear him tell of his experiences at the haunted pub.

Scott had been general manager of Fiddler’s Green Irish Pub in Cambridge (now closed for several years), Ontario for just under a year and first heard of the ghost of Emily when researching for his position. Although relatively unfamiliar with the pub's long standing ghost story before the job, Scott became very well acquainted with the its true nature shortly after being brought on board.

Case in point? In one instance, Scott had left the kitchen momentarily and when he came back he found himself looking at a chef who’s face had gone stark white. When asked what was wrong, all the frightened chef could say was that he just saw Emily and claimed to have seen her float past in the kitchen while he was busy working.

Another time, new security cameras recorded the occurrence of a Tequila bottle that floated out from the bar and spun in mid air before careening across the room to smash into pieces against the wall.

Scott has seen loonies switch to toonies and then back to loonies again while the cash was being counted. (For all you non-Canucks, loonies are dollar coins and toonies are our two dollar coins. Seriously.)

A bartender once got hit in the back from a bottle that was thrown from the shelf while nobody was behind her. Another time during open hours one evening, a few of the bartenders heard a strange knocking from inside a beer fridge, as if someone was trapped inside trying to get out. When it was opened, there was nothing but the usual beer inside.

Scott recalled a particularly alarming thing while he was giving a tour to a couple of interested people. During the tour Scott received a call on his cell phone but, not wanting to interrupt the tour, he didn’t answer it. Later he checked his calls received but didn’t recognize the number that tried to reach him and so out of natural curiosity he called the number back. The voice that answered was that of an elderly lady. When Scott asked what number she had tried to dial she relayed Scott’s cell number back to him. Scott asked her if he could help her with something and the lady said that she was looking for her daughter. “Who is your daughter?” Scott asked and the lady answered, “Emily.”

I asked Scott if he had heard of anything strange about the building before it became Fiddlers Green. He told me the old post office was closed down for a number of years and was left abandoned before the place became the Time Club, and then as the Fiddlers Green Irish Pub. Any previous lore was unknown by Scott.

After hearing Scott tell me about all these incredible occurrences I did the only thing I could think of: I arranged for a tour with him that would lead me right into the heart of the legend of Emily’s ghost. I would see where she died and, if I was lucky, I would better understand why she could never leave.

TheHistory of a Ghost

The ghost - or rather, ghosts as I am later to discover - of Emily’s attic has certainly stood the test of time to say the least. The Fiddler’s Green Irish Pub was built in Cambridge, Ontario during 1885 to serve as the town’s post office. (Author’s note: Cambridge is actually comprised of three smaller towns, Galt, Preston, and Hespeler. The pub was built in the oldest part, which is called Galt.)

Little did the famous architect, Thomas Fuller, realize when he designed this ominous building that he was also in fact designing the eternal haunting grounds of Emily and her forever partner, William S. Turnbull, former post master from 1898 until his death in 1919.

Sometime near the end of his high ranking career as postmaster, a noble position for his time, William employed a woman who would eventually prove to be the death and damnation of him. As rumor has it, the two of them were caught up in a sordid love affair that they had kept well hidden from public eye. After all, the truth would most certainly have ruined William’s reputation and career.

Angry that she could never be part of William’s life the way she wanted to be, or just tired and weary from guilt and deception, Emily threatened to go public with news of their adulterous courtship. William’s mistress never got the chance as she was discovered hanging dead from the clock tower of the postal building. A few days later, William was found dead in his quarters from what was speculated as a broken heart. Or had Emily, lost and lonely in her after life, offer her earth bound lover an invitation to join her that he couldn’t refuse?

So did Emily hang herself out of guilt and shame or did William, afraid that she would ruin him by going public, murder her to make it look like suicide? Sadly, that remains a question that only the ghosts of Emily and William will ever be able to answer. It’s also worth noting that a séance was held at the pub in 1991 during which a psychic felt the presence of a third ghost, a small form assumed to be that of a baby. So does this tell us that Emily was pregnant with William's baby when she was hung? One more question that can never be answered by the living.

Surveying the Landscape

Arriving downtown Galt, looking at the Irish pub from the opposite side of the street, I could hardly imagine this grand old building, lit up so magnificently by the morning’s warm sun, could be anything less than a welcome spot to enjoy some good conversation over a cold pint of brew. It looked like any other old building I’ve ever seen; impressive and strongly built it's a gift of memories from days long past. I stood on the sidewalk, taking digital pics and growing anxious of my ten o’clock meeting.

It was an unseasonably warm sunny day as I crossed the street to the front of the pub. Looking up at the clock tower, a cold shiver went down my spine as I lifted my camera to take a few shots. ‘This is where she hung,’ was what I thought.

I stood there a few moments and couldn’t help but think that this big round clock face was not unlike an unblinking eye. I half expected it to wink at any moment, a sign that she knew I was there watching her as she no doubt may have been watching me. It was time to push through the green entrance doors and find my gracious tour guide for the morning. Expecting nothing but the unexpected, I stepped inside with the hope of better understanding a ghost that is as shrouded in suspicion and intrigue today as it was over a century ago.

A Date With Emily

Spotting Scott by the bar I headed over and was greeted by a warm handshake and a quick prompt that he didn’t have much time, which was fine by me. We wasted no time as I followed Scott up the winding stairs of the pub.

On the third floor landing I was greeted by a grand mural of Emily, depicted as a sort of beautiful floating spirit that reminded all who passed by it who’s home this truly was and will always be. We rounded the landing and I reminisced over something that Scott had mentioned earlier on the phone. One of the security guys that worked here often felt as though he were being hugged while walking these very stairs during his rounds. Was Emily lonely for an earthbound companion or was she trying to tell the guard something, maybe even trying to warn him? No matter the reason, I couldn’t help but catch my own breath as we walked up the last of the stairs that would lead us into the rehearsal room for the bands that played downstairs.

William’s Quarters

This naturally dimly lighted room, I was informed, was William S. Turnbull’s personal living quarters when he was postmaster. Looking around the A-frame structure everything was pretty much the way it would have been when William lived here, with the exception of some furniture and the amps and sound speakers, of course. Scott tells me that this is the oldest structure that still remains of contractor, M.A. Piggott’s work. (As a side note, this building was designed by Thomas fuller, man who designed the parliament buildings in Ottawa, Ontario.)

Stepping into the center of the large room, I looked out a pair of windows that sat close to the floor facing a similar pair of windows on the other side of the room. According to my host, these windows had a nasty habit of opening up without anyone’s consent or doing. Tired of always having to close them, the windows had screws drilled into them, but even this didn’t help. The windows still found themselves opened up by morning with the screws laying on the floor, and had to be screwed shut again every month or so. I asked Scott how long he thought these windows would stay shut like this and, after a slight pause, he simply shrugged his shoulders and replied, “No idea.”

If you happen to be a band member rehearsing up here before a show you’ll want to play nice or pay the consequences. Scott informs me of how Emily plays tricks on those that speak ill of her. Band members that have played there were always told the story of Emily, but not everyone paid the respect it deserves. Those that poked fun at the story weren’t welcomed by the mistress ghost. Guitar strings would quickly snap off as soon as they began to play, monitors would work for one band and then not the next and then would be fine again. It seems good advice to behave in the house of ghosts.

Surrounded by shadowy beams of light as we spoke, I continuously heard the soft creaks of old boards even though it wasn’t windy outside at all that morning and there were only a small handful of people about the pub, two floors down.

I diverted my attention to a corner behind me where some old furniture had been pushed up against the wall. Amid this furniture, resting on top of some thick cushions was a ladder that led to the attic above and to the heart of this ghost story.

Emily’s Attic

Scott was kind enough to hold the ladder for and tells me not to mind the cord that’s hanging down from the attic's opening, leftover from some recent electrical work. I can’t help but think of the dangling cord as a small ode to Emily’s fate.

I climbed up high enough for my upper body to be inside the attic. Standing on top of the ladder, I snapped some few pics while I let my eyes adjust to the dusty dull light that came in through small stained glass windows. Deciding it was all or nothing, I hoisted myself the rest of the way so that I was completely inside of the attic. The first thing I noticed was how quiet and heavy the space up here truly was.

Didn't matter that the clock tower faced the front part of the building and it didn't matter that I could picture the traffic I knew to be roaring past the tower I was in. It was absolutely quiet and still in there. After a few moments my body began to feel quite heavy, too, as if something denser than the natural air around me weighed upon me. I definitely felt closed off from the rest of the word as I stood there on the thin floorboards looking around, taking pictures with as steady a hand as I could muster.

I kept talking with Scott, mostly asking him trivial things, such as questioning the strength of the floor boards, anything really to fill the attic space with life and sound, but mostly to make sure he was still there since I could barely hear my own breath and had to strain to hear him well.

I looked up to see an old and thick support beam running across the middle of the structure. According to Scott, this is likely the spot were Emily was found hanging over a century ago. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine her there, hanging still, then quickly decide that I’d rather not. Instead I looked at the floor at my feet to a spot directly beneath the beam and notice the clocks’ swinging pendulum that marked each year that passed with painful precision.

Looking at the big hands of the clock, I remembered researching tales of people who claimed to see shadows and even a face pass over this clock from outside. Looking at my own watch, I decide it was best to be on my way and as I lowered out of the attic I felt a wash of relief, but also sadness and a touch of reluctance as though I were leaving the home of a child I knew to be tormented. I tried not to think of Emily watching me as I reached the third floor.

As Scott locked up the door to the rehearsal room and led me back down the stairs, I asked him what he thought it was that Emily was trying to communicate with us. My guess was as good as anyone’s he told me, but his suggestion seemed as logical as any. Scott figured because Emily was dragged here and killed, this is where she is stuck. Since William died of a broken heart a few days after Emily was found, he too was stuck here, drawn to this place for eternity.

Back on the first floor, I thanked Scott again for his time and left him to his business. Stepping back out into the hot morning, I sucked at the fresh air and looked forward to returning so I might at the bar to enjoy the drink named in Emily’s honor.

In Memory Of

I began this article with the idea of writing an allegedly true ghost story. What I ended up with turned out to be much more than I had anticipated. I get my ghost story, sure, but what I also got was a better understanding of the ghost behind the story. Nobody will ever really know for sure if Emily was killed or if she had committed suicide in that clock tower over a hundred years ago. However, one fact does remain certain: She may forever be alone wherever she is, but as long as her story is kept alive she won't soon be forgotten by the patrons who come to visit her home.

Knowing what I know now, will I ever go back there? Absolutely, and for several reasons not excluding the hospitality of the pub’s management for letting me poke around and, of course, for the flow of assorted drinks to savor on three floors as the bands play. I know I’ll be back for other reasons too. I hope to again visit the heart of the story so that I might figure out why one of the pics I took in the attic is full of bright streaks when the lighting was exactly the same for every shot I took which all save for this one turned out just fine. I'd also like to know who's face that is staring back from that one picture, the one in the attic just to the right of the pendulum. Maybe you can look closer yourself, look really close, and tell me if I’m imagining things or if that’s just Emily up to her old tricks again.

**Author's note: Sadly, I never did get that drink as the pub has since gone out of business and the building now stands empty. Well, almost...**

I had great fun entertaining you with spooky stories during this blog hop. I hope you had fund too and perhaps learned something new. 

Until next time, stay on a dark side..they have cookies. I will pick the winners of the prizes in a day or so for I'm celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving. 

To recap, I'm giving away
  • one $5 Amazon gift card
  • one e-book copy of my books (winner's choice)
  • two book marks from "Spring Bling"

2015 October Frights Blog Hop
October 1-10th 

1. Clarissa Johal, Author of Paranormal & Gothic Horror 
2. Duncan Ralston, Author of Gristle & Bone 
3. Blaze McRob 
4. Kerry Alan Denney aka The Reality Bender 
5. Thomas S. Flowers, Author of Reinheit 
6. A. F. Stewart 
7. Kindra Sowder 
8. Cinsearae S. 
9. Randy Speeg 
10. Miracle Austin 
11. Brandy Jeffus Corona 
13. Clay and Susan Griffith 
14. *** 
15. Precious Monsters 
16. Nickronomicon 
17. *** 
18. The Cerebral Writer 
19. Barbara Custer 
20. Katie M John 
21. Lexa Cain 
22. Mary Rajotte 
23. Belinda Frisch (Mystery, Thriller, Horror Author) 
24. S.C Hayden 
25. Ash Krafton 
26. E.J. Stevens @ From the Shadows 
27. J.H. Moncrieff - Things That Go Bump In The Night 
28. C. Lee Spencer - Love/Kroft 
29. Nicola C. Matthews: Paranormal Fantasy Author 
30. Elizabeth Kelly 
31. KM Randall 
32. Anne Michaud 
33. Steve Vernon 
34. Debbie Christiana 
35. Angela Yuriko Smith 
36. Cathrina Constantine 
37. Kerry Adrienne 
38. Scott Scherr (Don't Feed The Dark) 
39. Crymsyn Hart 
40. Zrinka Jelic 
41. B.K. Brain 
42. greydogtales 
43. Chris Verstraete - GirlZombieAuthors 
44. Juli D. Revezzo~Paranormal author