Spooktacular Giveaway Hop

It’s been a few years since I participated in the Spooktacular Giveaway Hop, but now that I’m writing Down Salem Way, the prequel to the Loving Husband Trilogy, it seemed like a good time to give away a few autographed paperback copies of Her Dear and Loving Husband, Book One in the Loving Husband Trilogy. If you love Outlander or A Discovery of Witches, then Her Dear and Loving Husband will be a great read for you. To find out more about the book, check here. Her Dear and Loving Husband is also a great book for Halloween with its vampires, witches, ghosts, and werewolves. Thanks to BookHounds for hosting the blog hop.

This giveaway is open to readers all over the world. Wherever you are, you’re welcome to participate.

Simply do one of the following and you’re entered into the drawing for one of five autographed paperback copies of Her Dear and Loving Husband. The sign up links are located on the right sidebar.

  1. Follow this blog
  2. Follow me on Facebook
  3. Follow me on Twitter
  4. Follow me on Goodreads

To enter the giveaway, add your name and email address into the form below. In the message section, state which of the above options you chose.

That’s it! Good luck to everyone who entered!

Hop on over to the one of the other participating blogs and see what other great prizes you can win.

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Researching Vampires and Salem for Her Dear and Loving Husband

When I’m writing fiction I know that anything can serve as inspiration. Television, movies, music, books, and travel all help me generate story ideas. For a story like Her Dear and Loving Husband, which goes back and forth between the past and the present, I had to learn about what life was like in Salem in the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1692, but I also needed a sense of what life looked like in Salem, Massachusetts now.

Understanding present-day Salem was an easier task. Though I hadn’t visited Salem while writing Her Dear and Loving Husband (the Salem trip didn’t come until I started writing Her Loving Husband’s Curse), I used Salem websites and Google Earth to help me get a vision of what today’s Salem looks like. You can read about my trip to Salem here and here. Seventeenth century Salem was  harder to grasp. Of course, there are many accounts of the Salem Witch Trials, but not a lot about the specifics of people’s day to day lives.

Not only did I have to understand Salem and the witch hunts, I also had to have some sense of what it meant to be a vampire. All authors who write about anything fantastical–vampires, witches, werewolves, mermaids, time travel, whatever–get to define the boundaries of their magical worlds. That’s why world building in fiction is fun. Anything goes as long as we’re able to make the world believable for our readers.

Here are some of the resources I used to help me write Her Dear and Loving Husband:

Books

Nonfiction:

 The Salem Witch Trials: A Day-by-Day Chronicle of a Community Under Siege by Marilynne K. Roach

Six Women of Salem by Marilynne K. Roach

Death in Salem: The Private Lives Behind The 1692 Witch Hunt by Diane Foulds

Vampire Forensics: Uncovering the Origins of an Enduring Legend by Mark Collins Jenkins

Fiction:

The fiction I read for Her Dear and Loving Husband was mostly vampire fiction since I wasn’t familiar with vampire novels except for Twilight. I wanted to see what other authors had done with their paranormal characters to get some inspiration for my (usually)  daylight-avoiding James.

The Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer

Dead Until Dark (Sookie Steakhouse Book 1) by Charlaine Harris

Interview With a Vampire by Anne Rice

Dracula by Bram Stoker (who can avoid this classic when writing about vampires?)

The Passage by Justin Cronin

Once Bitten by Kalayna Price

The Crucible by Arthur Miller

Television and Film:

The Crucible by Arthur Miller (yes, I read and watched it)

True Blood on HBO–as it turns out, True Blood was the biggest inspiration for Her Dear and Loving Husband

The Twilight movies

Bram Stoker’s Dracula with Gary Oldman

 

Music:

Music was a challenge for me with Her Dear and Loving Husband. Although I didn’t include any music in Her Dear and Loving Husband, it was always there for me in the background, and I listened to music while writing. I usually listen to music from the historical era I’m writing about to help me get in the right frame of mind, but since I was writing about the Salem Witch Trials then I was researching Puritans in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. In such a stern society that placed all its hope in the afterlife, music played little role other than church hymnals (if even those since I’ve read conflicting accounts: some say they sang hymnals, others say they didn’t because even church music represented too much of an earthly pleasure). I discovered some hymnals that were popular in England in the 17th century, but the Puritans left England because they wanted to purify what they believed was the Catholic influences on the Church of England, so I doubted those would be popular in Salem Village. I’m looking again for music while I’m writing Down Salem Way, so maybe I’ll uncover some new information.

As for present-day Salem, well, that would be the same music I was listening to. I imagined James, with his classical tastes, would listen to  the great composers like Mozart (my personal favorite) and Chopin so I listened to some classical music, which I normally do anyway. Sarah, I imagined, would have more modern tastes, so I listened to my own current faves. I have eclectic music tastes, so I listened to everything from The Beatles to Hootie and the Blowfish to Josh Groban to Kings of Leon (like I said, I have eclectic tastes).

I talked in this post about how I used Pinterest and travel to help me write When It Rained at Hembry Castle. Though I didn’t use either for Her Dear and Loving Husband, I use both now for every new novel and I highly recommend making boards for your books on Pinterest. I have a board for the Loving Husband Trilogy now, and if you’d like to see it you can visit it here. There’s also a board for Down Salem Way. If you can travel to the place you’re writing about, then do. It makes all the difference, as I learned when I was writing Her Loving Husband’s Curse and finally made it to Salem.

I wasn’t familiar with either vampires or the Salem Witch Trials when I started writing Her Dear and Loving Husband. Learning about both helped me write the story about eternal love I saw so strongly in my mind’s eye. Reading these books, watching these shows and films, and finding music that inspired me while I was writing gave me fuel for the fire that Her Dear and Loving Husband sparked in my heart.

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Excerpt: Chapter 2, Her Dear and Loving Husband

You can read Her Dear & Loving Husband for free. Click on the photo for booksellers where you can download a copy.

Thursday night Sarah was slow with her steps, savoring the town. She turned from Washington Street and wandered between Front and Derby, past the old-fashioned Salem Marketplace where people window shopped through the narrow lanes, gazing at the painters and sculptors in Artists Row, imagining what it must have been like living there centuries ago. She continued to the watery expanse of the bay where the breeze blew lazy laps in the water, postcard perfect along the natural coastline beauty. Rising above the water, towering above the sailboats, was the 171-foot-long, three-masted ship the Friendship, an emblem of Salem. She saw the white lighthouse, waiting patiently, beckoning sailors home. She stepped onto Pickering Wharf, a harborside village of gray-blue buildings with white trim, the hubbub of local seafaring activities, and she paused to admire the slick boats parked in neat little rows. She breathed in the wholesome air, exhaled, and relaxed. She felt comfortable, as if she had found a childhood friend after many years. More than anything, she loved the peace she felt. Her thoughts had been congested so long, the ten years she spent in Los Angeles, to be exact, and with every step she took she felt her muddled worries clearing away, lifted from her shoulders by the sauntering wind.

The Witches Lair, Jennifer’s mother’s shop, was located on Pickering Wharf, tucked in alongside the clothing, gift, and antique boutiques. Sarah arrived before everyone else since she was still on an L.A. schedule where you had to leave an hour early to get through the traffic to get anywhere on time. A tinkling bell rang as she pulled open the door, and when she walked into the shop she said hello to the woman behind the counter and glanced around. The Witches Lair was a perfect name for the store since it was stocked with any accoutrement a witch or wizard might need: altar supplies and incense, aromatherapy oils and diffusers, cauldrons and tarot cards, crystals and gems, and books about subjects ranging from the kama sutra to kabbalah and from magick and spells to dream interpretation. It was dark inside, with dim overhead lights and flameless candles in the sconces on the walls, the shadows adding to the mystical ambiance.

Sarah paused by the bookcase, searching the titles. She was intrigued by one, about dream interpretation, and as she scanned the back cover she wondered if the information inside could help her unravel the dreams that plagued her. There were nights when the images were so intense that when she woke up it took some time to distinguish between the scenes in her head and the reality in the world outside. With the book forgotten in her hands, she remembered her latest nightmare, the one that staggered her awake the night before. She was so lost in thought she didn’t notice the older woman beside her.

“Would you like a psychic reading, dear? I can read your palm, or perhaps you’d prefer a tarot card reading?”

“Oh no.” Sarah returned the book to the shelf. “I’m waiting for Jennifer Mandel. We work together at the library and she invited me here tonight.”

The woman clasped her hands together, and she smiled in warm greeting. “You must be Sarah. I’m Olivia Phillips, Jennifer’s mother. Welcome to the Witches Lair.”

Olivia looked like a fortune-telling gypsy with her hoop earrings and peasant-style skirt. Her steel-gray eyes and the wisps of silver in her close-cropped red hair were striking. Sarah and Olivia shook hands, and Sarah gestured at the store around her.

“Your shop is fascinating. I’ve never seen one like it.”

“Shops like these are a dime a dozen around here. Everyone in Salem thinks they’re a psychic or a mystic or touched by the supernatural somehow.” Olivia waved her hand in a firm dismissal of those who would think that way. “Jennifer tells me you’re new to Salem.”

“That’s right.” Sarah began to explain about her divorce, but Olivia held up her hand.

“You don’t need to explain, dear. I have four ex-husbands myself. But why Salem?”

“I’ve always felt drawn here. When I was growing up in Boston I asked my mother to bring me to the Halloween festival, and we lived so close, but somehow we never made it. My mother always had one excuse or other to skip the trip. Just the thought of this place made her shiver.”

“Has your mother ever been here? There’s nothing to be afraid of, at least not for over three hundred years. These days it’s more of a tourist town than anything.”

“I’ve told her that, but she still won’t come. I thought she’d want to know more about our ancestor, but she’s not interested.”

“Your ancestor?”

“When I was a girl my great-aunt told us that someone in our family died as a victim of the witch hunts, but my aunt didn’t know anything else about the woman, not even her name. I started working on my family tree when I was in L.A., and I thought if I were here I could do more research at the Danvers Archival Center. At least I’d like to know her name.”

“A mystery to solve. I love it.” Olivia looked at the book Sarah had slipped back onto the shelf. She watched Sarah, her face fixed, like a detective gathering clues where no one else thought to look. “Jennifer tells me you have dreams.” She took Sarah’s hand and patted it in a motherly way. “Would you like to tell me about them?”

Sarah shook her head. She had never told anyone. Nick, her ex-husband, knew, but only by default. He would yell and bitch and moan whenever she woke screaming in the night, clenching her jaw tight until the bones popped in her ears, her muscles like sailors’ knots. He told her she was weak for giving into the internal heckling, but they were her dreams. She couldn’t control them. They would have their way with her, picking and pulling at her, though she didn’t want them to. Because of Nick’s impatience, and her own disappointment with how easily she was jolted awake by the clear-as-day images, she kept her dreams a secret from everyone else. Instinctively, she felt she could trust Olivia, that Olivia might be someone she could confide in about the teasing games her subconscious liked to play when she was sleeping and defenseless, waking her with nervous, earthquake-like tremors. She had the clothbound notebook where she recorded her dreams there with her in the Witches Lair, in the canvas bag hanging from her shoulder. She could have pulled it out to show Olivia. But she didn’t. She shook her head again.

“Whatever you wish, Sarah. Just remember, I’m here should you change your mind. And my friend Martha, you’ll meet her tonight, is excellent at dream interpretation. She’s an expert at past-life regression as well.”

“You’re very kind, but you don’t need to trouble yourself over it.”

“But dreams are our subconscious whispering truths in our ears, Sarah. You should pay attention. You’d be amazed at what you could learn.”

Olivia gripped Sarah’s hand tighter and led her past the bookcases and displays to four cubby-sized rooms separated from the rest of the store by black velvet curtains.

“Come. I’ll give you a reading for free. Any friend of Jennifer’s is a friend of mine.” Sarah tried to protest, but Olivia wouldn’t be swayed. “Really, dear, everything will be fine. Perhaps I can help you understand your dreams.”

Sarah relented, telling herself she didn’t believe in psychics, extrasensory perception, mysticism, or anything like that, so the reading didn’t matter. And she did like Olivia. There was such unconditional warmth in the older woman’s manner. Besides, in a tarot reading didn’t they just pull three cards from the deck and make guesses about your life based on the pictures? She would humor Olivia, pretend to be startled by the revelations, then join Jennifer and the others.

Olivia pulled aside the curtain to the cubby on the end, fringed with more black velvet. Inside there was only enough space for a small round table covered with white linen and two folding chairs while a candle and spiced incense burned on a shelf. Olivia sat in the chair behind the table and gestured for Sarah to sit across from her. She took Sarah’s hand and looked at her palm.

“Have you had a psychic reading before?”

“Once, when I was in college. I was taking a religious studies class and one of our assignments was to have a psychic reading and write about our experience.”

“And what was your experience?”

“She seemed very young, the psychic, just college age herself, and I wasn’t impressed with her predictions since everything she said was generic and could have applied to anyone.”

Olivia dropped Sarah’s hand to study her. Again, that detective seeking clues look. “What did she say?”

“I was getting ready to move to Los Angeles where my fiancé had a job in the film industry. She told me moving away would be a mistake because L.A. was not my home. She said my husband was not my husband and I was not who I thought I was.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“I’m Sarah Alexander.”

Olivia was in deep thought as she considered.

“Yes, well, let’s see what else we can learn.”

 

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