Deadly Ever After

Archive for the tag “Chynna Blue Scott”

On The Eve Of Samhain

Today’s Brew: Apple Cider. And remarkably, it’s not spiked.

by Kristen

Since Halloween is everyone’s favorite holiday (although mine is actually Superbowl Sunday), I thought I’d post some quick fun facts about The Big Day

  • Halloween is a Christian holiday! Take that, you pagan propagandist finger pointers. It is All Hallows Eve, the day before All Saints’ Day.
  • I went to catholic elementary school and we used to have November 1st off every year, and of course I thought it was to recover from the chocolate drunkenness of the prior evening.
  • Until 835, All Saints Day was celebrated on May 13th. Someone then had the foresight to change it to November 1.
  • The origins of the holiday can also be traced back to the Roman Goddess Pomona, the goddess of fruit and seeds.  Bobbing for apples derives from the Roman festivals of this holiday.
  • Samhain was a Celtic festival celebrating summer’s end and the end of the harvest season.
  • Samhain was also a bad ass band formed by Glenn Danzig after he left the misfits. Glenn Danzig is 58 years old! WTF. That’s just not right.  
  • November signaled the beginning of the darker half of the year.
  • The Darker Half is also a bad ass collaborative writing blog. I believe I’m scheduled for a guest post there on Tuesday.
  •  The tradition of dressing up and trick or treating goes back to 16th century Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. (WTF, England? Why didn’t you join in on the fun?) “Mumming and guising” involved dressing up, going door to door and singing songs in exchange for food. I think we need to make kids today sing for their supper. Kinda like American Idol meets The Gong Show.
  • In Scotland, people would wear masks, going door to door threatening mischief if they weren’t welcomed.
  • Costumes have another Christian origin. See? Even Jesus like Halloween. “Souling” means dressing up or disguising yourself
  • In 19th century Wales, young people would dress as the opposite sex.
  • In the dark ages, no fun was allowed. Christians would have “soul cakes” to remember souls in purgatory. Churches would display relics or martyred saints. Poor parishes would have their parishioners dress up as martyrs instead.
  • Shakespeare mentions souling in Two Gentlemen of Verona.  
  • Britain used to bless homes and barns to protect people and livestock against witches on Halloween.
  • Oh, I get it now. You Brits are more into Guy Fawkes Day than Halloween. Guy Fawkes Day is November 5 and I’ll be celebrating by RELEASING A BOOK THAT DAY.
  • The Scots, always looking for a party, brought Halloween traditions to North America. The holiday gained popularity in the mid 19th century.
  • Jack O Lanterns are supposed to frighten evil spirits away.
  • Ireland and Scotland carve turnips instead of pumpkins.
  • We can thank classic gothic horror stories such as Dracula and Frankenstein for our current Halloween imagery.
  • Haunted houses may have originated by the Jaycees for fundraising.
  • Judaism forbids participating in Halloween or any other gentile customs.
  • Devil’s Night was a huge problem in Detroit from the 1970s to 1990s as well as other cities in the US.  City youths would vandalize and set fire to things at random. Way to suck, guys.
  • Looking for some Halloween stories?  Check out Chynna-Blue Scott’s The Zombie Project, Pen and Muses The Dark Carnival, and check this very blog every Friday for some great short fiction by guest authors!
  • And tomorrow, the evil geniuses of Twitter join to bring you something new and exciting. Stay tuned!

Flash Fiction Friday: BLOOD BORN by Chynna Blue Scott

TODAY’S BREW: Pumpkin Spice because cliches.

By Julie
You are familiar with our honorary third member of The Undead Duo, Chynna-Blue Scott. This young woman has writing chops like nobody’s business. Her words are sorta crack-like for me. Not butt crack, the other kind. I never did crack, but you know. In any case, this beautiful girl mentioned that she wanted me to read a novel she has finished, BLOOD BORN, and she tells me constantly how awful it is. Literally, my fingers could not move fast enough to tell her how much I wanted to read it. She is such a diamond of a thing, and I guarantee her book is, too. I am absolutely honored to give her my input on how to make it gleam and rise above anything else in the genre.

But still, she worries. So I am doing THIS. Here we have an excerpt from BLOOD BORN, the second she has released into the world, and since ignored. I’m posting it because she does amazingly well hearing what people think, and really takes criticism to heart in the right way. Please, leave your comments, and be honest. She wants this, and I know it will hearten her.

Soeth beginneth the excerpt…eth:

The blonde man came to face me, his gaze predatory. His eyes had taken on an ethereal shine, a deadly quality that made their grey seem like ice.
Bloodlust, my brain idly concluded. That was what was causing that sheen, that glow.
“Just a case of wrong place, wrong time, love,” He reached towards me, a cool finger tracing a line down my cheek, stopping at my chin – though his eyes wandered further. “I do hope you don’t hold it against me.”
Oh, no. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing how afraid I was. Adrenaline made me reckless. I looked him in the eyes. “Bite me.”
Michael stopped, a look of incredulity spreading across his undeniably attractive features. “Well, would you listen to that! A bleeding invitation!” he laughed.
Jacob also chuckled, the first time that I had heard him make a sound since they had entered. “Interesting choice of words,” his gaze was fixed on me, a small smile playing about his lips.
Michael leaned forward until he was just inches away from my face, cool breath washing over my cheek. Then he smiled. His teeth were pearl-white – perfectly even, excepting two extended incisors that sharpened to glistening points. Darkness threatened to swallow me and I felt myself sway. My God, but he had fangs.
I barely had time to blink before Drew had spun me behind him, one hand holding me still, the other pressed lightly against Michael’s chest – lightly, but dangerously. The air around us grew heavy, as though it had been charged with electricity.
“Don’t even think about it, mate. This isn’t what you came for.”
Michael’s eyes went flat, his nostrils flaring. Right then, I wanted the knife more than anything. It must have flown from my grip when Drew moved me behind him. Then again, who knew what use it would be against a vampire? He might just laugh and then use it to pick me out of his teeth later.
“You want Jim to cooperate with you? Think he will if you bite her? Normally I wouldn’t object, but –” Drew cast a glance at me, “– you need him. And it will be a lot bloody easier to persuade him if you don’t make a meal out of his…waitress.”
I glanced at him, evaluating the pause – did he know Jim and I were related? It wasn’t a secret, but still, the thought made me feel cold inside.
“Christ on a bike, Drew, I wasn’t going to kill her. Hell, she’d probably enjoy it.” He grinned lecherously at me. Not on your life, I hissed mentally, disgusted. Outwardly I stayed silent.
“Even so. I’d rather Jim helped you willingly than unwillingly. It’s not worth the hassle just to satisfy your fancy.”
The two stared at each other, both evaluating the other, tension seeping into the atmosphere like so much testosterone. Then Michael’s gaze cleared, and an easy smile returned to his face. “Right you are then mate, if you feel that strongly about it. Can’t say I care for redheads, anyway. No offence, love.” He tipped me a wink. I blanched, which made him smile even wider.
Drew relaxed, taking his hand from Michael’s chest. They both turned to look at me. Michael’s expression was puzzled, Drew’s thoughtful.
“So, what do you want to do with her?” Michael wondered.
“Nothing. Jim will help you, if you offer him the right price. Let me deal with the girl.”
I followed the conversation with my eyes, oscillating between outrage and wanting to throw up on their nice leather shoes. My mind spun into dark and dangerous places on hearing those words. Let me deal with the girl.
“Don’t let me interrupt your evening then, mate.” Michael grinned at Drew. To me he said simply, “We’ll be back.” He turned to leave, whistling. Jacob was already holding the door open. He was grinning, joking about some club that they were going to later and the girls that would be there. It was evident it wasn’t just a hook-up they were looking for, but I could barely hear what they were saying, the blood roaring too loudly in my ears.
I turned to stare at the dark-haired vampire. How would he deal with me?
He looked at me apologetically. God, his eyes were pretty. “Sorry, love.” He sighed.
My chest gave one final, painful squeeze as I forgot how to breathe. Then everything went dark.

Follow Blue at @chynnablueink on Twitter, and love her blog

Chynna Blue Scott’s Twilight Initiation

TODAY’S BREW: Chocolate cappu-waiting for pumpkin spice.

By Julie

For Vampire Week, the honorary third member of the Undead Duo, Chynna-Blue Scott, has given us a kick ass post, and I love her for it. What I love the most  is that she’s one of us who doesn’t just say like what you want to like and screw you if you have a problem with it, she actually sticks to her guns.

Read. Then follow her at @chynnablueink and read her killer blog, which includes the masterful Zombie Project, SHE IS MY BRITISH LITTLE SISTER, SO DO IT.

My Twilight Initiation

I’m listening to Thnks Fr Th Mmrs by Fall Out Boy whilst writing this. I thought it was appropriate.

And I’m going to start this post by saying something really, painfully cliché.

Which is that when I was a little girl, I never wanted to be a princess.

Yeah, I know that’s the ‘said’ thing nowadays. And I also know the title of this blog post made your arm hair stand on end and your back teeth grind like someone just ran their nails down a chalkboard. But bear with me. You wanna see where I’m going with this.

So, returning to my original point – and thank you for sidetracking me, by the way – I want to clarify that I wasn’t a tomboy. No way in hell. Glitter, dresses, I loved that shit. But the sweetness and light? That never appealed to me. It wasn’t that I shied away from ‘girl’ things – it was that I didn’t want to be that kind of girl. In my head, I was strong, dark and pale. I’d go for red lipstick and a black dress before you’d find me in a pink fluffy tiara.

And I never really had anyone – or anything – to identify with. Not like today, with the Monster High Dolls, the boom in the supernatural trickling down until it permeated the world of little girl toys. That’s something we can really thank Twilight for, much as some might hate to admit it. Twilight is pretty much responsible for the sudden surge in paranormal and urban fantasy YA, and the diversification of kids toys and TV programmes that are a product of it.

I’m going to admit something here.  Although I’d always run to the red tartan and black turtlenecks, though I watched Charmed and Buffy, I still wasn’t really sure what my passion was, where I fit. I was into witches, but it was all a little too Mother Earth for me. And the vampires on Buffy – apart from Spike, of course – didn’t call to me. Maybe it was the fang face. I don’t know. It was all a little too ‘The Blob is Alive!’ for me.

And then I found Twilight.

To paraphrase Heathcliff, you may look cynical, if you please! I know, I know they aren’t your traditional vampires. I get it. And since my initiation into the world of vampires, I’ve found other books with vampires who fulfil the more traditional role, vamps I’ve fallen in love with. Jeaniene Frost’s Night Huntress series, for one. But what Stephenie Meyer had given me was an outlet for that need. Did I want to be eternally young, to sparkle in the sunlight, to have the ability to stop cars with my hand? Hell yeah. Do I still? You’d better fucking believe it. I wanted the gentleman vampire to fall in love with me. I wanted a world that where life and death was real, where being dark and different and weird was an attractive thing to be. A world where being popular and typical made you one of the herd. She introduced me to what I’d been searching for.

Vampires. That night world of beautiful darkness and blood called to me from the beginning. Nowadays, anyone who knows me knows I love them. In whatever form I can get them. The diversity in literary vampires is delicious. The supernatural boom has given us a plethora of undead, and shot life into the subculture already brewing in the wake of Anne Rice and Stephen King.

I’ve broadened my horizons, moved on to darker and more dangerous pastures, but I’ll always be thankful to Twilight for my initiation into that world. Like a soft gateway drug, it pulled me down the rabbit hole. And though now when I look back, I can see the writing isn’t the best it could be, and there are definite issues with it, I still love that damn book.

Yeah, I’m a sucker for Edward. So sue me.

Hi Honey, I’m Home!

Today’s Brew:  All the Coffee. All. The. Coffee.

by Kristen

Hi! My name is Kristen. I like long walks on the beach, roller derby, hair bands, and things that sparkle.  If you noticed I’ve been suspiciously quiet for the last two weeks, I have a very good reason for that.  I was in the UK.  I visited England and Scotland, and did a little work along the way.  It was an amazing experience.  I took a ton of photos, which when I get a chance, I will make a Pinterest board to share them with you.

I also got to spend an afternoon with the fabulous Chynna-Blue Scott. Dumb ass me forgot my camera in the car that day.

Julie did a frackin’ awesome job keeping the homefires burning here while I was away.  Pissed doesn’t even begin to express how I feel about her publication date nightmare.  Please hand in there, guys. Running Home is an amazing book and it deserves everyone’s patience.

So now what?  I had kind of wrapped up my first half of the summer so I had no loose ends before I left the country.  Now I have to get back in the swing of things.  Thankfully, people seem to still want me to do makeup. I had just wrapped up Night Moves before I left and sent it out to beta readers.  I had planned to start a book with a new scenario and a different group of characters, but I wound up writing ten pages of the sequel to Because The Night on the plane.  Will I work on two at once? Can my blonde brain handle that?  I don’t know. The new project requires a lot of research, so I’m not holding myself to any rules.

Tomorrow at 5 PM EST, I’ll be back on blog radio!  Please listen to Lydia’s Literary Lowdown to see what I have to say about Because The Night and Night Moves.  Julie and I will be back on air Monday at 6:30 PM EST.  I don’t have to tell you that will be mayhem and foolishness.

Now, to get reacclimated to America and pick up my awesome Gee:

 Look at the turkey toes.




Go Road Trippin’ With The Undead Duo

Today’s Brew: Wild Blueberry Mountain or something like that. It smells like blueberries. It tastes like coffee.


Julie and I contributed a story to our wonderful friend and awesome writer Chynna Blue Scott’s Blog.  It is the last of her supernatural guest series featuring paranormal shorts by Chynna as well as a host of other talented writers.  Go check out How It Didn’t End by us, and stick around to see the rest of the stories too.  You won’t be sorry!

Steam by Chynna Blue Scott

TODAY’S BREW: Vanilla something or other. Lots of it. It’s 4 in the morning.

We are beyond lucky to have a friend like Chynna Blue Scott, and you are beyond lucky to read the poetry of her words. Prepare to be sexified. Follow her @jordonchynna on twitter. Now read.



     If you touched her, she’d burn you.


Her skin runs white-hot, eyes the twin candle flames flickering in the darkness when lovers have long succumbed to slumber. Her golden glow illuminates limbs entwined in simmering remembrance. The fiery light of the living lovers, she scorches without mercy.


She is the smoke, molten-grey tendrils that cascade over ruby lips; the amber glow of the cigarette, crumbling to heated ash. Her hair the stark flash of scarlet against a black backdrop, crackling snapdragon burn in velvet shadows. Sparking, shimmering nails that would rend you in twain beckon; soft feathers of phoenix down that bring sharp, sweet pain. Her name is Hellfire, Destroyer of Pompeii, Daughter of the burning Sun. She is fire, vigour, passion – a pulsing heart that ignites a scalding fever. Like encroaching shadows, she devours.


He is frozen, untouched by time in frigid silence. Ice-cold indifference that burns blue-cold, his Medusa-gaze captures with glacial intent. When he speaks, winds rush over the moors, razing grass and shifting clouds. His steps the echoes in an empty tomb, his skin the bone-white of death.  He is the Creator of Snow-White’s Coffin, the guardian of long-dead lovers, and his frozen heart is touched by none but the brightest flame.


Where fire dances, impatient, he is silent – slow, inevitable. Paralysing breath brings senseless sleep, a numbness of such crystalline perfection it captures the essence of a moment. He is painstaking in his preservation, whilst red destroys and crumbles…


…And their kiss consumes. Scalding lips turn ice kisses to heady steam, the grasp of frigid hands blackens dancing flame. Skin seethes at the contact, excruciating loveliness that burns away the ground beneath. He freezes her serene smile, his heavy burdens consumed by her irrepressible heat. Self-made reflections glow like autumn. And the lovers dance a dance of fire and ice, both black shadows, both white lights.

For when the watchers of lovers give in, their frostbitten fire turns the world to ash.

Teeth by Chynna Blue Scott

TODAY’S BREW:  Still boozy cider.
On a theme today of forcing people to show us their writing and letting the world take a look.  Chynna Blue Scott is a brand new friend of ours that keeps right up, and she has a great voice.  I am so very pleased to let you have a look at her handiwork here, then go have fun on her blog to see an excerpt of her first novel!   Follow her on Twitter and check out her blog!
by Chynna Blue Scott
We aren’t the only ones who have Christmas trees.

Others have Christmas trees, too. And they don’t decorate them the way we do, oh no. They decorate them bad. Real bad.
Bad for us, anyway.
See, when we go a-running a-round, a-searching out our Christmas tinsel and baubles and lights and all that other insignificant bullhocky, they do a different kind of shopping.
A same kind. But a different kind. It’s all relative, yah know?
You don’t know. But I know.
I heard them, talking. The pale one with the teeth and the pretty eyes, she’d spotted the one she wanted. He was tall, athletic type, typical college footballer. She wanted him, she hissed. They were going to get him, just like they got the others. Just like her brother got the pretty little girl.
I assume he was her brother. You never know with them. But he had the same pale face, the same sparkly eyes. The same teeth.
My finger slipped on the railing I gripped, watching them. It was cold, the ice glittering under the floodlights. Skate-blades glistened like silver razor-slashes. I knew how this would play out.
I hadn’t been able to stop them getting the pretty little girl, at the waxworks. I could still see the bubbles when I closed my eyes.
I’d stop them from getting him.
They wouldn’t come out until he went to leave. The twins liked to make their move in the shadows, to hear their victim’s heart speed up as they walked through the dark patch… Not tonight.
I sauntered up to the athletic guy, flipping my hair back, my smile all teeth. It was easy to get him to come with me. Satisfying to hear the girl’s frustrated hiss split the night air, snaking toward me like a spark along a dynamite fuse. I’d lit the dynamite, alright.
I was ready for the bang.
The athletic guy’s face said he couldn’t believe his luck. Oh, he was lucky. God damn lucky. Luckier than he knew.
I wouldn’t hang him on my tree. I wouldn’t drive spikes into his hands and display him like an ornament, dress him like a nutcracker and force him to walk all day and all night… Not like they would. I’d seen it. Seen it a million times. Not this time.
He never saw it coming. Three sharp slashes, and hot blood spurted, steaming in the frozen air. He gurgled, sighed, and fell. He wouldn’t get back up again. No, I wouldn’t display him. My teeth snagged my lip as I dragged him back into an alleyway, slithering red trail a glaring red-arrow pointing to his location. I wanted him to be found. He deserved a burial.
Once they had chosen him, he was already D-E-A-D dead. I just made sure it was painless as possible. Quick job, over and done. His head lolled back as I slumped him against the brick wall, his mouth open comically.
The twins watched me, alternately hissing and spitting. They followed me out of the alleyway and back to the ice rink, their footsteps soundless. No one paid any attention to them as they passed. My black coat hid the blood well.
I needed a drink. I thought about strapping on a pair of skates, gliding over the ice in my long black coat.
I saw the boy’s eyes light up as he caught sight of a young girl, her long hair a shimmering blonde swathe. I sighed, and made my way over to her. My smile was all teeth.
“Hey, there’s a party going on round the corner. Interested?”

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