Hello My Little Ghouls and Ghoulettes,

Halloween is finally here and I can’t express how excited I am. This is very much “my” holiday because I don’t have to plan anything but my own enjoyment…oh and all the hordes of children that come to the house desperately seeking the means to a diabetic coma. I love everything about Halloween and this year I was particularly excited to have released 31 short stories to help get everyone in the spirit. Thanks to everyone that has been reading each day and playing along and if you haven’t enjoyed a little thrill during October, you really need to get on board the party bus.

Because I’m a firm believer in treats needing to keep a coming, I have a very short story for all you tricksters.  As always be safe and just naughty enough to not end up on probation.

Happy Halloween,

Janet

Unedited and Copyrighted by Janet Eckford

Life of the Party

“You do know this is a stupid idea.”

“Shut it.”

I don’t bother looking at the group behind me, in particular Little Ms. Naysayer Gloria. She knew what I had planned and complaining every step of the way was really starting to annoy me. I should have just kept my big mouth shut and come out here on my own, as I’d been doing for the last ten years. Except, this year I was trying to open myself up more and all that crap my therapist kept harping on. But he never did understand me. Waste of money if you asked me but the only thing that kept the hounds at bay.

“So, what is the big deal about this place?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” I whispered over my shoulder to Steven.

Pushing through the thick brush that wound it’s way around the path that was invisible to most, I tuned out the whispering voices behind me. If they didn’t shut up they were going to ruin everything. God, why did I have to open my big mouth.

“Are you sure we aren’t trespassing?” Claire’s nasally voice cared through the dark night.

Whipping around I glared at the group of people I’d picked up over the last several months. The light of my flashlight wasn’t bright enough to illuminate all of their faces but I could sense Claire, Steven, Gloria and the blessedly silent Anne staring back at me. Taking in a deep breath I looked up at the star filled sky and begged the universe for patience.

“I didn’t ask you to come. You all have free will and if you don’t want to be here you can just leave. This is the one time of the year I actually have fun and I don’t need you spoiling it for me.”

I watched as they all shuffled and shifted in the shadows of the night. I didn’t even care that my tone was biting and sharp. This was the one time of the year I didn’t have to hear the incessant whining of those stuck between this world and the next. Can you please deliver a message to my daughter? I hid the money in the bottom of the hope chest in the attic. It wasn’t a suicide. Blah, blah, blah, blah!! Rubbing my temples I used the counting exercise my therapist suggested and by the time I’d gotten to fifty I was feeling a bit better.

Looking at the group of the nearly but not so dearly departed I’d collected recently, I gave them one final hard stare before I turned back toward the path. I could hear the sounds of chatter in the distance of the dilapidated cemetery. It sounded as if the numbers were even larger this year and I felt my heart quicken with anticipation. The wind began to rustle in the trees and a chill breeze ruffled my unruly hair. Tonight they didn’t need me because tonight was the night they got to walk the Earth freely. It was the best sort of night because it was the rare occasion that I really enjoyed being the life of the party.

To read more curious and odd stories of the macabre, don’t forget to pick up my collection of 31 short stories from Mocha Memoirs Press. 

Blurb

It’s hard for me to pick a time in my life when I haven’t enjoyed the thrill of a good scare. The heady anticipation of the adrenaline rush, the heart beating faster, and the prickly feel of tiny hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. This “scare” is of course always controlled and contained. I don’t seek out fear just for the thrill of it but when I read a particularly scary story or watch an especially frightening movie, I am in love with how that narrative is causing my senses to go in overdrive. Fear can also have another face, one of longing, regret and precious moments lost but frozen in time. That type of fear is often the scariest for me to experience because the fantasy of what may hurt me is all too real. But of course I enjoy it just the same. This collection of shorts is inspired by the many facets of “fear” and housed within the context of one of my favorite holidays, Halloween.

Each day you have the opportunity to read a story that will hopefully have you checking under the bed each night, sleeping with at least one light on or shivering with relief that it isn’t your story being told. My greatest wish for you is that by the 31st day of October, you too will revel in all things that go bump in the night and with anticipation waiting for next year’s delights.

Available at Mocha Memoirs Press

Hello My Lovelies,

Sit down and let me spin you a tale (cue sound effects). As much as it pains me to see long summer days slip away (even though the heat seems here to stay) and the “holidays” looming off into a great distance bringing stress and time management extravaganza, there is a bright beacon of hope against the inevitable gloom of endless dark nights…HALLOWEEN!!! Sigh, I can’t being to express how much I enjoy October just because of the holiest of all holy holidays falls in that month. This year sig other and I are going to bring back 31 days of horror movies and as always transform the yard into a graveyard (with a couple of new tombs created) AND best of all I finished a goal I set out for myself. 31 short stories that span the spectrum of what is scary. I’m super excited by this project because…well because I am. So snuggle down in the covers and pull your e-reader closer and enjoy the tingle of the tales I’ve spun for you…you just might want to keep the lights on while you do it…muaaahhhhhhh (cue sound effects)…..

                                                            Janet

Hello Lovelies,

I know, I know, I’ve been away for quite awhile but never fear I was still busy. I have another Intimate Encounters book, from my publisher Beautiful Trouble Publishing, going through the editing process that I’m pretty excited about. It’s a collection of shorts that explores what happens when “Happily Ever After” isn’t always a given. I was really hesitant to put these little odds and ends together because they are a few of the more emotionally raw stories I’ve written I think to date. But after a bit I decided, “what the hell”, every lover deserves to have their story told even when it is a sad story. Therefore, keep your eyes peeled looking for Everything Carries Me to You.

In other news I actually penned a collection of short stories for October and HALLOWEEN!!! I’m so excited about this because if you’ve been following this blog for any amount of time you will know how much I love all of the things that go bump, crash and boo in the night. Into the Realm of Mystery and Night is off to Mocha Memoirs Press and is gearing up to be ready by October 1st. Yay!!!

Anyhoo, that’s all for now but never fear there will be more…smirk.

Janet

Coffee Time Romance!! You’ll notice I now have a lovely little widget/button link thingy (which took me forever to put on here, Oy Vey) which means I have arrived;) I will be guest blogging all day so Check.Me.Out!

http://coffeetimeromance.com/CoffeeThoughts/

Happy Reading,

Janet

Greetings Friends and Fans,

The last several weeks have been a whirlwind of creativity for me. It often happens that way though, I can’t seem to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) to save my life and BOOM those lovely little voices of characters I haven’t known begin clattering away in my head. I’ve been productive, bursting at the seems with excitement for all the tasty little morsels I’ve created to be published. Yet, there is always room for reflection and the revamping of an old cover seems to be the catalysis for such reflection. I’m not a consistent blogger or very avid but I take pride in the collection of thoughts I’ve put together here. My first blog was published on 8.9.10 and it was about my very first published story, Shifting Desires. They often joke you never forget about your first, and I haven’t, but as I look back on all that I have done since than I can’t help but marvel at how each time it’s gotten better.

I’ve grown more confident, willing to try something new, pushing myself to have fun and enjoy each experience. It is very apropos that with this evolution that first, the little spark of wonder that I dared to put to paper and share with someone other than myself should have a chance to evolve as well. The story is still the same but this little book has gotten a very lovely new cover. This is not just a marketing tool (even though it would be nice to attract new readers) but a gift my publishers have given to me.Therefore, I pass it on to all of you wonderful people to enjoy just as much as I have.

Happy Reading,

Janet

I’ve been invited to play in someone else’s sandbox. Go take a gander and marvel at the randomness that is moi.

http://mochamemoirspress.blogspot.com/2012/06/by-janet-eckford-i-was-asked-to-write.html?showComment=1343604121530&m=1#c3634147814761367584

Janet

Hello Lovelies,

After reading a very interesting blog about copyright infringement of photos posted on blogs and other social media sites, I will be removing all photos that I do not have permission from the photographer to post. I will most likely replace these images at some point but wanted to give you all a heads up as to why my blog is going to look a bit wonky for some time. If you follow me on Pinterest you will also notice I have removed all of my photos as well. I love the creative outlet of the site but will now begin to use photos that I know are not infringing on any copyright laws. As a writer I feel that I have to stand in solidarity with other’s that make a living off of their craft. Don’t worry, though my site might not be as pretty for some time it will still have all of the zany stuff that is moi.

Happy Reading,

Janet

Hello my favorites,

It is a special day and my pseudo birthday (I was born on a Friday the 13th) and I felt as if I should come bearing gifts. I’m currently awash with creativity and shall have lovely little stories to release into the world very soon. I’m trying to keep this influx of coherent ramblings going so I can finish my most epic of writing projects, a collection of 31 stories for the 31 days of October in celebration of my most holiest of high holy days, Halloween.

I’ve been playing with ideas and wondering just how scary I should be and quite a few have found themselves on the cutting room floor. But as today is such a special day I thought one idea that didn’t move me beyond these short little sentences should get a chance at life. Therefore my lovelies I wish you a most splendid Friday the 13th and give you a little something to make it that much brighter.

Janet

Do you have to go?
Unedited and copyrighted by Janet Eckford

“Do you have to go?”

“You know I do.”

“Why does it always come so soon?”

He gathered her in his arms and placed a gentle kiss upon her head. It was too soon but time was never on their side. Instead they took what they could when they can.

“When will you be back,” she whispers softly with her head pressed against his heart.

“Not until the time is just right,” he replied in a dejected tone.

“You could stay if you wanted.”

He’d become accustomed to this argument that had no real end. She knew that he couldn’t stay and their special kind of forever was never guaranteed. Releasing her from his tight hold he watched as her mournful expression transformed into one of resignation. He didn’t have to tell her what she already knew.

“You have to go,” she sighed and gently cupped his chin with her icy fingers.

“And so do you,” he replied.

There was no grief as her touch became the faintest of caresses. His heart had long ago learned to wall itself away from sadness as she slowly faded away. He didn’t shed a tear as he stared at her silent grave in the cold night because he’d learned long ago it was wasted for those that love the dead.

Good Day Lovelies,

It is Sunday Funday and I just want to stay curled in bed and sleep with the cats. But alas, errands must be run and things Sig Other has deemed important gotten to. I even have a few items on my list to check off, mainly writing a story for the sweetest cover my publisher Beautiful Trouble Publishing has given me. I have a title, which is often the hardest part, but unfortunately no plot, characters, or direction.

I have been scribbling little bits of stories all over the place but I can’t make any of those fit. So while lying in bed, faking sleep in order to ward off Sig Other and his “rise and shine” demeanor, I started thinking about this sweet little couple and what their story should be and I was struck with the thought, “what is it like when it isn’t so sweet” and “how do they get the sweetness back”.

Well I rolled over and jotted down the briefest of a scene in my notes app, the receptacle of unfinished ideas, and decided instead of it living its life in obscurity why not share. Who knows, now that I’ve put it out into the universe maybe it will grow up to be a real story one day…ummm

Unedited and copyrighted by Janet Eckford

The warmth of his hand slipping between my thighs is my only indication that he is awake. It is slow, almost lazy in it’s exploration of my softly smooth skin, and I keep my eyes tightly clasped in order to better experience the sensation. He drifts higher and higher and it seems that with every inch he gains my body becomes increasingly anxious. This caress in the darkest heart of night is unexpected after an intense quarrel that had me falling asleep with hurt feelings and murderous thoughts. My pain from harsh words spoken in anger coaxes my pride to resist, squeeze my legs tightly closed and bar the intruder admission, but I feel the lightest brush of fingertips against the softest part of my body and I submit.

Pride is no match for desire and I do not think I can desire any man more. He knows I am his even with harsh words and hurt feelings.

“When we are done, I promise we’ll talk and I’ll apologize, but let me say I’m sorry this way first,” he whispers in my ear.

And I let him.

Hello My Little Rascals!

I’ve been working really hard to finish a few projects but alas my muse hasn’t been cooperating. Until the wee small hours of the morning when this picture I’ve had in my Pinterest account sparked a little flame of something for me. So what could I do but share with you.

Janet

Naughty Thoughts and Naughty Deeds
Unedited and Copyrighted by Janet Eckford

I watch as he puts his gloves on. Those lovely hands, strong and well formed, with just a hint of roughness brushed along his palms and the pads of his fingers. Those lovely hands placed inside the softest of leather. I love those hands, particularly when they are upon me. Looking away as the last digit of the last finger is tucked away from my view, I shiver thinking of the feel of them.

“What are you thinking of?” He asks softly in ear.

I haven’t noticed him get close, so very close in a room with so much space. I feel the heat of his words travel across the surface of my skin, caressing, teasing, and I blush with pleasure.

“Nothing.”

The lie is ill formed and sticks as it comes out of my mouth. He will know there is a something. Several something’s that involve him and those lovely hands that have now found their way to my arm and hip.

“I think not.”

His voice is husky as he leans so much closer to me. Pressed softly against my back. One of those lovely leathered clad hands has found its way from my hip to the small of my back, at the edge of the deep V of my dress, where my skin is exposed. The cool smooth texture of the leather slides gently across me and I still, like one of Pavlov’s dogs waiting for a treat.

“Are you thinking naughty thoughts?”

There is humor in the deep timber of his voice that causes my breath to hitch. When he is amused is when he is at his most dangerous. His mind becomes sharp and focused, arrowed to all the subtle nuisances of my body and its responses.

“Naughty thoughts and naught deeds,” I whisper back.

I feel a slight tremor in the hand now splayed discreetly across my lower back. I am not without my own arsenal and smile as I look into the thinly dispersed crowd of diners. I wonder if they know what is happening. That as he grows slightly harder behind me, I become slightly softer, warmer and moist.

“Let’s go,” he says helping me with my coat, “I want to hear more about this in the car.”

His words have a hint of urgency and his smile a bit of mischief. I know what will happen when he gets me to that car parked in the darkest part of the lot. Those lovely hands in tight confines of the softest leather will push me ever so gently against the cool metal of the door. One will find its way to my hip as the other lifts up my dress, fingers skimming across sensitive skin until they reach the very edge of my panties. There won’t be time for gallant gestures and instead he will push the delicate lace aside, as he spreads me wider.

I am not a passive spectator of course and will have taken my own liberties to free him from his pants. As he lifts me up, just enough to anchor me on the door of the car, the last thing I will feel before he pushes himself inside of me will be the warm texture of his favored gloves pressed against my skin, and I will have to bite my lip to prevent my scream.

Naughty thoughts and naughty deeds indeed.