Review of Horror Poetry Chapbooks by John Baltisberger

My Review of Shards of Shattered Sentiments 

First of all I applaud anyone who can write 25 poems in 25 different forms and stick to an overall theme. 

Second- horror poetry. Yes. When I was offered a chance to review horror poetry that was what sealed the deal. I was intrigued. I love poetry. I love horror. I had to give it a try.

And I'm not disappointed. I will be reading and re-reading these as I dissect meaning and allow the words to open my mind to see what lies betwixt and between the lines, hidden in the words.

I think my favorite so far in Shards is Swirling Whispers. A vibrant and haunting description of the descent into madness.

The Mother Waits is another favorite. So chilling, this one resonated with me but I can't describe why. 

All of the poems in Shards of Shattered Sentiments are dark, twisted, and full of imagery that will make you think, make you see and perhaps leave you more than a little unnerved.

My Review of In Service of Slaughter

Oh. My. God.

If you love slasher flicks, serial killers, serial killer are going to LOVE these dark and twisted poems. WOW.

These take dark and demented to a whole new level.

Dive into the mind of a crazed killer, feel their joy and excitement as they kill. That's what these poems do.  

At first you'll be shocked, then uneasy, then you'll start to dig deeper.

This book will leave you twisted.

My favorite poem in this collection is Devouring God. The crazed mind of a killer who thinks them self a god.

Toymaker is another favorite. The imagery of innocence lost. Childhood destroyed.

If you love horror and poetry, what are you waiting for? Get these books today.

Shards of Shattered Sentiments 
An exploration of poetic form through the lens of horror 

by John Baltisberger 

Poetry in one form or another has been around almost as long as language. We have used it to communicate our joys and heartbreaks, our victories and our losses. But fear has also been a constant companion, and our ghost stories and monsters stretch their claws back into history as far as the eyes can see. It’s with this is mind that we begin our journey through various poetic forms, from traditional Japanese Haiku to more modernist takes such as The Bop. Exploring the rules that create these literary creations all while bending their use to telling scary stories. 

Heavily inspired by the American pulp horror writers of the 1930’s, this chapbook explores themes of madness and forgotten monsters. Haunted houses that demand sacrifice and sunken cities waiting to be rediscovered. 25 poems, each using different forms dive into the chilling and often deranged world of horror.

 The first of a three-part chapbook series. 

Each book features 25 different forms and cover a different horror theme. 

Book one deals heavily with insanity and Lovecraftian motifs. 

The next book will feature Slashers and Serial Killers, and the third will feature Kaiju and monsters!

Flash Fiction White Raven By S. Peters-Davis

White Raven
By S. Peters-Davis

We met when I was thirteen. The cool morning mist lifted off the water, my parents had already launched to fish, and I was left tending the campsite. My book lay open on the picnic table and I was totally absorbed in the paranormal romance of shifters when a white bird the size of an eagle landed on the table in front of me.
It studied me, cocking its head side to side, stepping to the right then the left of me.
Watching it watch me might have been unsettling to someone else, but I found comfort with its interest in me. I studied it right back; a Raven, only white and a huge size, with deep purple eyes and dark lashes. So, it wasn’t an albino.
“Where did you come from? You’re amazing.” My words must have startled it because it stumbled off the table, hitting the ground with a loud thud. I shot to the other side where it lay unconscious. “You can’t die. I’m sure you’re one of a kind.” I touched its soft feathered head. A tingle vibrated through my fingers and up my arm. The bird shivered and its eyes opened. “Oh, my gosh, you’re alive.”
“And you, Lacey, are nothing like I was told you’d be,” a masculine voice spoke inside my head.
I jumped back landing on my backside. My heart beat erratic as I gasped for air. We stared at each other. “You just spoke inside my head. You know my name.” I croaked the words, still working to breathe. “What are you?”
* * *
Blaze glared at me in the moonlight, his purple eyes glowed. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be practicing.” His straight white hair fluttered around his broad shoulders, his lips pinched together. “You’re eighteen and should have full access to your powers. Now is when you need to be trained.”
We stood on the edge of a Picture Rock cliff, he expected me to jump, gain my wings and fly. Only I’d never flown on my own, even though I could make feathers appear randomly on my body, it wasn’t like launching myself into the abyss of Lake Superior just to prove I can’t fly. He swore the full moon would give me insight on what would happen if I jumped off the cliff, but I definitely wasn’t feeling it.
“Come on, Lacey. Your parents were strong flyers, both of them. You’ve spent too much time with the human family and lost your instinct to the Avian way.” He stepped closer, his palm rubbed across my shoulder blade, warming my insides and making me feel safe. “It takes a nice dose of adrenaline to get those natural abilities firing through your system.” He shoved me and I tripped off the ledge.
The moonlit water was not my friend. I closed my eyes. The rocks below would kiss me dead.
My body jolted as his talons slipped around my upper arms. I opened my eyes, his strong wings worked to save us from the crashing waves and rocks.
He sighed. “Enough for tonight, we’ll try something else tomorrow.” He flew toward the forest.
Blaze had introduced me to the Avian race of people on my sixteenth birthday. They told me that I looked like my mother, who I’d never met. They also spoke of my parents as royalty, which made me giggle. My parents had left me, a newborn, at the campsite of a human couple. Perhaps to save me from the hunter that had killed them. My human parents never shared I wasn’t biologically theirs.
My ventures with Blaze and our people were in secret. The more I learned about our kind, the more difficult it became to live in the human world. Especially knowing my aging process had slowed, upon turning eighteen I aged one year for every one hundred human years.
But perhaps part of my draw to the changeling world was Blaze. He knew me like no other.
Blaze flew us deep into the forest, where our people lived in a small village settlement far off the beaten path, a place no human would ever consider living. He set me on my feet outside his home then he changed into human form. He’d insisted as my mentor and protector that I stayed with him.
“Maybe you should change out of that tiny bathing suit.” His gaze wove a web of sparking prickles from my chest to my toes and back again and then our gazes connected. Those sparks on the outside of my skin scurried into my veins like a hyper-wave of lava. He stepped closer, his head tilted toward me, breath brushing my lips.
I lifted my face toward him, my heart spiraling, eyes closing.
He kissed my forehead. “Go, change, sleep. We’ll start again tomorrow.”
My spiraling heart dropped as if knocked-out with a punch. I opened my eyes and watched him walk into the house, no need for lights with our excellent night vision.
My human mother came to mind. She had worried about my deep teal colored eyes and the distance I could see…miles away. I learned at ten years old to keep certain things to myself after running through a ton of tests. Thankfully she kept me from becoming a lab rat. I never shared my ultra-fine hearing or my ability to feel the minutest vibrations of insects and small creatures.
Like now. Vibrations and sound, snapping branches and twigs, I scanned into the forest at my left.
A gun fired. I saw the flame, fumes ripened the air. I sensed the vibration of the bullet as it passed my shoulder and slammed into the side of Blaze’s home.
“Umph.” His groan echoed in my head, then a thud loud enough to be his body.
My heart hummed, blood pumping through my veins with force. I stretched tall, my body automated. My bones and muscles snapped into a new place. I stared downward at talons instead of toes.
Another shot fired, again just missing me. My wingspan freaked me out momentarily, wider than Blaze’s, and brindle in colored. I lifted effortlessly into the air, soaring around tree branches, ascending then diving, hearing the ragged breath of the hunter. He was reloading his firearm.
His look of surprise told me he’d never heard my approach. I knocked him down, used my talons to grab his gun and snap the night vision goggles from his face. The Avians swarmed overhead, all sizes, ascending and lifting the unconscious hunter. With flying stealth, they carried him away.
I flew back to Blaze’s home; the door was open. My body morphed into human form as soon as I landed. Arianna, the Avian medic, was already leaning over his prone body, her glowing hands spread across his abdomen.
“How is he?” I ran to his side. His eyes were closed. “Is he unconscious?”
She stared at me with a look of awe. “You are the one.”
Not the response I expected, nor a clue on what it meant.
Blaze shuddered, his eyes opened. “Lacey?”
“I’m here. It was a hunter. He’s been removed from the area. How are you feeling?” I brushed a tendril of hair from his eyes. My fingers vibrated at the touch of his skin.
Arianna slid her hands away and inspected the area. A bullet clinked on the wooden floor. “Looks like you’re going to make it, my King.”
My King? I’d never heard anyone call Blaze that before.
“A little rest ought to finish the tissue healing.” Arianna rose from the floor, pocketing the bullet, and reached out a hand. I did the same and we both helped Blaze to his feet.
“What happened?” His eyes narrowed, brows drawing inward.
“Your owling came into her own. She protected first and foremost, like a true leader, my King.” Arianna bowed her head toward Blaze, then to me, and said, “We’re honored by your presence.”
I shook my head in disbelief, not quite sure what she was talking about. Nor why she was calling Blaze “my King.”
Blaze’s wide smile took my breath away, and as his gaze connected with mine my brain stopped considering anything else.
“You morphed?” He pulled me in, wrapping his arms around me. I nodded. “You morphed,” he whispered.
Arianna clicked the door shut on her quick exit.
Blaze tilted my chin up. “You have no idea how long we’ve waited; I’ve waited. Your timing is perfect, my Queen.” He closed the gap between our lips, crushing mine to his in a smolder of passion.
I held his face between my palms, our chests pressed together and our heart rhythms matched as one. 

A Kendra Spark Novel
Book Two
S. Peters-Davis

Genre: Supernatural, Suspense-thriller, Romance

Publisher: BWL Publisher

Date of Publication: August 10, 2018


Number of pages: E-book length: 150  
Number of pages: Print length: 195
Word Count: 57,500

Cover Artist:  Michelle Lee

Tagline: Trafficked girls marked to lose their souls by a malevolent supernatural entity require someone with explicit abilities for their rescue. Will Kendra be able to save them?

Book Description:

Kendra Spark, suspense-mystery writer and communicator with the dead, signs on to the next FBI Special Task Force case, trafficked girls that are marked to lose their souls.

Jenna Powers, ghostified criminal analyst, sticks close to the case as she and Kendra are also marked by the same malevolent supernatural force.

Derek Knight, lead FBI Agent on this case, learns of the malevolent entity and the deeper paranormal realm of danger.

Kendra’s unfiltered feelings for Derek struggle to take a backseat, and as the menacing threat grows more intense, so does her passion for Derek.

Derek faces uncertainties he’s never dealt with in his past, like malicious entities and the loss of his heart to love. How can he protect Kendra against forces he can’t see?    

As boundless supernatural danger intertwines with the future reality of the trafficked teens, Kendra and Jenna realize only they can shoulder the rescue by calling in a voodoo priestess…

Amazon      BN      Kobo      Smashwords

Scribed      Indigo      Books2Read

About the Author:

S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories, but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.

She also writes YA paranormal, supernatural novels as DK Davis.

BWL Publishing Inc.:

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London Clarke's Recipe for Chocolate Swamp Pie

Recipe for Chocolate Swamp Pie

Pie crust

2 cups flour

¾ cup Crisco

dash of salt

1 egg and 4-5 tablespoons of ice water

1 teaspoon of vinegar

Mix salt and shortening in with flour. Mix together with spoon. Beat up egg with fork and add to mixture. Scoop tablespoons of water into the mixture. Add tsp of vinegar. Mixture will be stiff. Chill for 2-3 hours. Cover with saran wrap until ready to mash into a pie pan.


1 stick of butter

1 cup of sugar

2 eggs beaten

2 tablespoons cream

1 teaspoon vanilla

1and1/2 squares of baking chocolate

Melt butter and chocolate. Beat eggs, add sugar, beat well. Add cream and vanilla.

Mix well. Add melted mixture and mix all ingredients together. Pour into unbaked crust.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 35 minutes.

The Meadows
Legacy of Darkness
Book One
London Clarke

Genre: Gothic suspense; supernatural thriller

Publisher: Carfax Abbey Publishing

Date of Publication: October 2018

ISBN: 9781386765233

Cover Artist: Stephen Lee Designs

Tagline: Bed, breakfast, and blood.

Book Description:

A decades-old murder. A strange, blood-thirsty cult. And a house full of spirits.

It was supposed to be a new beginning, a fresh start in the Shenandoah Valley, where Scarlett’s memories weren’t riddled with drug addiction and rehab. But after purchasing an abandoned house with a checkered past in the hopes of transforming it into a luxury bed and breakfast, strange things start to happen. Disturbing voices and noises interrupt her new life. Strangers appear to her, bearing cryptic warnings. A tunnel is discovered underneath the house—one historically used for a local cult’s rituals. After several of Scarlett’s guests are hospitalized after visiting the underground, she finds herself targeted by violent spirits.

Driven to the edge of despair, Scarlett vows to fight back—but she has no idea what she’s really battling. And her nightmare is just beginning…

The Meadows is a gripping supernatural thriller in which the monsters may be vampires, demons, or flesh and blood. It is a nightmare that will make you believe it could easily happen to you.

About the Author:

Obsessed with vampires and haunted houses from a young age, London grew up reading gothic tales featuring romantic and tragic heroes. Wuthering Heights and Dracula are her favorite novels, and although now happily married, she readily confesses that she is a recovering runaway, who once moved to England in search of a man who was the perfect amalgamation of Dracula, Hamlet, Heathcliff, and Mr. Rochester. London holds a B.A. in Music and M.F.A in Creative Writing. She’s had an eclectic array of jobs including receptionist, legal secretary, literary assistant, high school English teacher, and freelance editor.

London lives in a Washington, DC suburb with her husband and three greyhounds. She’s happiest when she’s writing novels, reading books, or binge watching her favorite programs like The Vampire Diaries or Being Human.

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Diamond Moon by Celia Breslin - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular

Celia’s Picks for Halloween Binge-worthy Shows

My family loves to binge-watch paranormal movies and TV shows for Halloween, especially those involving vampires and werewolves. Here are our top ten picks for your All Hallows’ Eve viewing pleasure…

1. The Underworld movies.  Love all of those digitally rendered Lycans!

2. Wolf (1994), starring Jack Nicholson. Seriously, it’s *Jack Nicholson*. Enough said. :-)

3. An American Werewolf in London (1981).  Classic.

4. The Lost Boys (1987).  Naughty vampires, wicked good fun.

5.  Blade (1998).  Action!

6. From Dusk Till Dawn, (1996).  And more action!

7. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series and its spin-off, Angel. Vampires, werewolves, and more, oh my!  Joss Whedon rules.

8. Vampire Diaries TV series and its spin-off, The Originals.  Sexy, naughty vampires, kickass werewolves, and a whole slew of entertaining witches.

9.  True Blood TV series. Vamps, wolves, witches, and the fae. Fun, funny, dark, and bloody.

10. One last movie, and my all-time fav, The Cabin in the Woods (2012).  Funny, a bit scary with some good and creepy transformation effects, and chock-full of great lines such as:  “Yeah, uh, I had to dismember that guy with a trowel. What have you been up to?” and, “Hey, shh, no. I totally get it. I’m sorry I let you get attacked by a werewolf and then ended the world.”

Diamond Moon
Black Hills Wolves
Book 12
Celia Breslin

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Decadent Publishing

Date of Publication:  March 27, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-61333-803-2

Number of pages: 85
Word Count: 29,737

Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde

Book Description:

Human-wolf hybrid Darci Diamond spends every full moon locked in auntie’s basement in Southern Oregon. Her excruciating shifts terrify her, the last one causing her heart to stop beating. Seeking a cure, she journeys to Los Lobos.

Ross Luparell returns to the struggling Tao pack, using his millions made in the tech industry to build homes for pack families in need. He never imagined he would also find his one true mate. But when a hybrid with the biggest green eyes he’s ever seen lands on his doorstep in the middle of a wicked summer storm, there’s no denying it. She’s the one.

She wants a normal human life, free from pain-filled shifts. He won’t give up on her Wolf, and will do whatever it takes to help her accept her true nature. But can he convince her to trust him with her heart?

Amazon      Kobo     iTunes    

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About the Author:

Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for vampires, werewolves, and the Fae. When not writing, you’ll find Celia editing for others, exercising, reading a good book, hanging with her family, or indulging her addiction to Joss Whedon’s TV shows and movies.


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Freaky Flint History with Joe Schipani : Italian Feud March 1st, 1918

Flint is well known for its modern violent crimes but Flint's history is filled with little known stories that read stranger than fiction. Gruesome murders, weird accidents, and violent deaths. Join us every Thursday as Joe Schipani details some of the odd but true deaths he found in Flint's archives.

Italian Feud March 1st, 1918

Joe Sopo, a married man with five children, lived on St Johns Street in Flint, in the area known as the Italian blocks.

One evening Joe got into a feud with some friends at his brother’s house.

The guys started arguing about women and money.  After a few drinks Joe stormed out in a rage.

The next morning as Joe was leaving for work he was met by those friends. The guys decided to open fire on Joe.

Joe was found crouched on his hands and knees on the sidewalk outside his home…dead.

The first bullet went right through his head.  He was killed instantly.  He also had gunshot wounds in the eye, the right shoulder and the right arm.

When the Police arrived they followed footprints in the snow to the Italian boarding house across the street.

They found August Marchesani, Frank Lucatelli, and Joe Fabrise in a room changing their clothes. Ladovice Degaspari was hiding in the closet.

After the arrest, the police searched the boarding house inside and out and found the automatic pistols that were used to kill Joe. 

~ Joe Schipani is the Executive Director of the Flint Public Art Project and the FFAR Project Assistant at the Community Foundation of Greater Flint.  Find him on Facebook at 

Wherein Jayce Battles a Phooka Halloween Flash Fiction from the Witches of Doyle By Kirsten Weiss

Wherein Jayce Battles a Phooka
Halloween Flash Fiction from the Witches of Doyle
By Kirsten Weiss

“Well, you didn’t have to answer so honestly,” I grumped. My sister Karin could be bossy.
A farmer wandered the pumpkin patch beneath a full, harvest moon, his curses floating on the warm, night air. He prodded a smashed rind with his boot.
Jaw clenched, I scanned the ruined field and jammed my phone into the apron of my French maid outfit. Hey, when you’re a real witch, there’s no point to dressing as something supernatural. Besides, Halloween night was supposed to be time for sexy fun with my boyfriend, Brayden, not for playing monster-cop.
My chest tightened. Brayden and I were solid. Totally. But I’d sort of missed our last two dates due to unforeseen magical circumstances, and Halloween was a special time for us. I couldn’t let him down again. 
I plastered on a smile and waved to the farmer. “Did any pumpkins survive?”
“Damned kids!”
In other words, no.
My phone vibrated again. Ignoring the text, I knelt beside a tiny pumpkin the vandal had overlooked. I picked it up, brushed off the soil. Since I was an earth witch, plants liked me. I closed my eyes and focused on the pumpkin. Was there magic here?
“You! You! Stop!”
My head jerked up.
The farmer raced toward a scarecrow by the side of the dirt road. The scarecrow lifted its arms and smashed a pumpkin to the ground.
“Damn it.” It was magic. I leapt to my feet and sprinted toward the scarecrow. Was this a new trick? The local fairies animating scarecrows?
A shadow swept through the darkness in a clatter of hooves. Bells tinkling, a wagon flashed between us.
I skidded to a halt, teetering inches from the moving hayride, loaded with giggling kids and beaming parents and jingling harnesses.
The pumpkin split in my hand, and I jumped. My hair lifted at the nape of my neck. What the hell?
The hayride passed.
A shimmer of light flitted behind the scarecrow and vanished into the nearby woods.
I cocked my head and shivered. What was that? Dropping the pumpkin’s remains, I hurried forward.
The scarecrow slumped and dropped the pumpkin in her hands. And it was a her, a real her in a scarecrow outfit, and not, as I’d thought, a scarecrow come to life.
“What? Where am I?” She glared at me. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Typical. I always got blamed.
The farmer roared forward, arms swinging. The scarecrow sprinted away, which seemed like smart thinking.
I checked my phone and texted my sister.

Seriously. Crappiest pep talk ever. And where was I supposed to get iron?
The hayride clattered to a halt. Its driver helped the riders out and handed each a horseshoe.
Iron. I jogged to the wagon.
“Hey,” I said, chest heaving.
The driver smiled at my costume. “Hay is for horses.”
Yay. A comedian. “Can I have a horseshoe?”
“Did you buy a ticket?”
“Please, it’s super important.” That I make my date. Okay, and that I de-possess innocent Doyle-ites. Oh yeah, and send the stupid fairy back to wherever it came from.
“No ticket, no ride, no lucky horseshoe.”
“Fine,” I snapped and rummaged in my frilly apron for some bills. “How much—wait, are they real horseshoes? Iron horseshoes?”
I handed over the money and got my shoe. “Perfect.” I raced into the oak forest.
The light dodged through a vineyard, between rows of twisted vines, and vanished behind a rise.
I jogged over the hill into another pumpkin patch.
A middle-aged woman in a plaid shirt, jeans, and vest hurled a pumpkin to the ground.
Aghast, I gaped at the wreckage. At least a quarter of the field was already destroyed, rinds and seeds and orange strings tangled on the ground.
“Catch!” I pitched the horseshoe at the woman.
She plucked it from the air and tossed it over her shoulder. The woman kicked a pumpkin.
Okay then. No on the iron. Or that guy had lied about the horseshoe.
My phone chimed, a gentle cascade of notes, and my insides fluttered. I didn’t need to check the screen. Brayden was the only person I knew who called instead of texting. He was old-fashioned that way. It was super cute.
The pumpkin in the woman’s raised hands exploded, raining down on her head. Her mouth opened, and the orb flew from her throat.
She stumbled and rubbed her forehead. “What…? My pumpkins! Who smashed my pumpkins?”
Keeping an eye on the wavering light, I answered the phone. “Hey there,” I said, trying for a low purr. But it’s hard to be sexy surrounded by smashed squash.
“Jayce.” Brayden’s voice rumbled. “Am I in the wrong spot?”
My belly heated, turning liquid. “Sorry. My bad. I’m on my way.”
He laughed softly. “I’ll wait. See you at Antoine’s.” He hung up.
The fairy light bobbed up a forest trail, along a stream.
I looked down the hill, where my F-150 was parked, and bit the inside of my cheek. If I ditched my fairy quest, I could be at Antoine’s in ten minutes.
The light vanished around a bend.
I swore and charged up the inky trail. But the blasted light kept ahead of me.
The trail changed, ribboning past cottages and a miniature red waterwheel.
I jogged up the stone steps from the creek to Main Street.
Across the road, a deflating bouncy castle marked the entrance to a pumpkin patch. Old Mrs. Biddlecreek raised her cane and brought it down on a pumpkin.
Frustrated, I glanced at my phone. It was nearly midnight. I was sweaty. My maid’s outfit was a wreck. Antoine’s, a small town bar, would be closing soon. I was so screwed.
How had I gotten stuck with fairy-removal duty? I didn’t know what I was doing. Iron was a bust. And I’d no idea why the fairy had left its first two hosts. Not because of me, that was for sure.
My phone pinged, and my muscles tensed. I really needed to choose a text tone that was more relaxing, like my chimes…
The first time the fairy had left, horses had trotted past, bells jingling. And the second time, Brayden had called, and my chime tones had rung.
Mrs. Biddlecreek whacked another pumpkin.
If I was going to get rid of the fairy for good, I needed bigger bells.
I scanned through cat videos, political screeds… “Ha!” I turned up the volume and thrust my phone toward the old lady. Winchester Cathedral’s bells bonged from my phone’s speaker.

The old woman clapped her hands to her ears. A ball of light flew from Mrs. Biddlecreek’s mouth. The light quivered, pulsing, then shrunk to nothing, popping out of our world’s existence.
The pumpkin patch exploded, pelting me with an orange mess.
“Augh!” I ducked, too late.
Mrs. Biddlecreek blinked and shook a pumpkin rind off her cane.
“Jayce?” Brayden, dressed like Zorro, strode down the sidewalk. Even beneath the black mask, I’d know his broad shoulders and confident stride anywhere.
Frantically, I brushed slimy orange from my maid’s outfit. “Brayden! You came looking for me?”
“Whoa.” He plucked a string of seeds from my hair, and his emerald eyes sparkled. “What happened?”
“It was sort of… uh… a magical problem.”
His handsome face creased. “Why didn’t you tell me? I was worried.”
I motioned toward the pumpkin patch. “I didn’t want to ruin your Halloween with... this.”
“Ruin?” He pulled me close, getting pumpkin on his silky white shirt. “All I want is to be part of your magic.” He kissed me, sending a shockwave through my body.
“Is that all?” I whispered.
He peeled another string of orange goo from my shoulder. “And get you into the shower.”

Read about Jayce and her magical sister in The Witches of Doyle cozy mystery novels. Book 5, Fey, arrives on October 28th, just in time for Halloween!

The Witches of Doyle
Book 5
Kirsten Weiss

Genre: cozy witch mystery

Publisher: Misterio Press

Date of Publication: October 28, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-944767-34-1

Number of pages: 192
Word Count: 61,000

Cover Artist: Dar Albert

Tagline: This witch will do anything for a normal life with the man she loves. But when you’re on fairy patrol, normal is relative.

Book Description:

This witch will do anything for a normal life with the man she loves. But when you’re on fairy patrol, normal is relative.

Witch Jayce Bonheim has packed away her candles, crystals and cauldrons. With her boyfriend recovering from a hex, she’s determined to build a sane and magic-free life for them both.

But when a horde of troublemaking gnomes invades the small town of Doyle, it’s up to Jayce and her magical sisters to send them packing.

After the gnomes lead Jayce to a murdered employee from her own cafĂ©, she’s plunged into an investigation that lands her in the sheriff’s crosshairs. And Jayce must catch a killer before the sheriff’s brewing witch hunt nets a very real witch.

Fey is book 5 in The Witches of Doyle cozy mystery novels. Buy Fey and start reading this quirky witch mystery today!

Spells included at the back of the book.

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About the Author:

Kirsten Weiss has never met a dessert she didn’t like, and her guilty pleasures are watching Ghost Whisperer re-runs and drinking red wine. The latter gives her heartburn, but she drinks it anyway.

Now based in San Mateo, CA, she writes genre-blending cozy mystery, supernatural and steampunk suspense, mixing her experiences and imagination to create vivid worlds of fun and enchantment.

If you like funny cozy mysteries, check out her Pie Town, Paranormal Museum and Wits’ End books. If you’re looking for some magic with your mystery, give the Witches of Doyle, Riga Hayworth and Rocky Bridges books a try. And if you like steampunk, the Sensibility Grey series might be for you.

Kirsten sends out original short stories of mystery and magic to her mailing list. If you’d like to get them delivered straight to your inbox, make sure to sign up for her newsletter at

Feel free to follow her on Twitter @KirstenWeiss or Bookbub, get in touch on Facebook, post a picture of this book to Instagram and tag her @kirstenweissauthor, or send her an email. She’ll answer you personally…which may be a good or a bad thing, depending on your perspective.

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