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Shifters Everywhere - Excerpt From Consorting With The Shadow By Alison Armstrong

9/6/2025

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Alison Armstrong
Excerpt from my book Consorting with the Shadow: Phantasms and the Dark Side of Female Consciousness:


Beast Within--Ginger Snaps, Cat People, and Black Swan


Fleeing fairytales of prince-pleasing Cinderellas and toe-confining glass slippers, a girl hibernates in her fantasy lair. She, like the passive damsels she despises, desires transformation, but the metamorphosis she craves is as terrifying as it is ecstatic. A beast within her moans, and the girl-skin casing splits open.
Unlike vampire films, in which females appear about as frequently as males in the predatory role, most movies involving shape-shifting, at least until recently, have featured a man as their growling, hair-sprouting main character, the “beast” seeking his young, innocent, succulent, smoothly depilated female “beauty.” Despite the modern settings and modern characters in many of these films, the same beast/beauty gender roles usually predominate, indicating that even in the supernatural realm a certain degree of raw animal attributes are accepted, at times even celebrated, amongst men, whereas women are generally encouraged to embody a sweetly perfumed, cheerful, sanitized, unaggressively alluring yet pleasantly sensual ideal that is often at odds with their bodily processes and personality. Although women spend their reproductive years enmired in the animality of their menstrual cycles, they are still expected to conceal the evidence of their beastly biological bondage, the tell-tale ebbings guiltily staunched like the blood of a murder victim, the odor disguised by pretty-smelling, potentially poisonous chemicals. Women battle against their bodies, the physical aspect of themselves by which they are judged and because of which they often suffer. Therefore, it is even more relevant perhaps for the shapeshifter film to have a woman instead of a man undergo this physical transformation of self and body.
Ginger Snaps, Cat People, and Black Swan feature a female shapeshifter/beastly doppelganger to explore themes of sexuality and self-identity. Of these three films, Ginger Snaps makes the most blatant use of traditional horror movie conventions related to shapeshifters but subverts these clichés to examine puberty and adolescent psychology from a female perspective. . . .
Although shapeshifting offers the potential to attain in animal form an ecstatic sensory experience that transcends the language-filtered limitations of human consciousness, it often imposes its own restrictions, the transformations occurring unbidden, the result of lunar phases or turbulent emotions, such as anger or lust. Its addictive thrills can, as with Ginger, overpower the will, imprison the soul. For some, however, as with the protagonist Irena in Cat People, shapeshifting can bring escape into a form of being that, though imprisoning, liberates the true self. . . .

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Shifters Everywhere - Excerpt From Brax by W.M. Dawson

26/5/2025

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Blurb:
Brax, by nature, is a loner, a badger shifter who keeps to himself and his nose out of everyone's business. That is, until Elle showed up in the fight club he worked out in, starting fights and searching for help to get back her son. His life took a sharp turn. He ended up with everything turned upside down.
Elle, born into one of the most dangerous werewolf packs in Canada, couldn’t shift and had been used for breeding before being tossed out on her ear. She had learned the hard way to survive, and now she was returning for her son, no matter the cost. She gained help from an unlikely badger before everything went completely wrong.
The pack she had come from was playing a much more dangerous game, and they discovered it went further than just trying to get her son back. Join Brax and Elle on a supernatural ride to save her son and the heart of a neutral shifter city and their lives.


Excerpt:
Chapter One-

Wolfe’s Cove stretched its narrow mouth wide, devouring Brax in layers of darkness and stale underground air. The distant, dirty pulse of the club quickened as he approached, absorbing him into its relentless rhythm. A constellation of neon graffiti stained the passageway, the concrete beneath his feet gritty with a history of broken bottles and furtive exchanges. Inside, the room teemed with the press of bodies and an edgy hum of conversation, patrons perched in wait or curled in dark corners. Brax stepped through the entrance, boots landing heavy as he surveyed the familiar chaos. It took only seconds for his eyes to land on the newest quarrel. A vampire baring his fangs at a werewolf, leaning in with a menacing snarl. The wolf stood poised for a fight, muscles tensed, while the vampire’s smirk held a sharp promise. Brax’s eyes narrowed, his mouth set. With a short breath and a practiced, forceful gait, he headed for the battered metal bar.
The floor thrummed under his boots as he moved through the crowd, past leather-jacketed patrons and clusters of lounging demons. The harsh glow of scattered bulbs lit the scene with flickering indifference, throwing shadows against walls lined with worn posters and defunct speakers. Voices mixed with the heavy bass, a confusing harmony of intent.
“You think you can just—?” The werewolf’s words were a low growl, almost lost beneath the music.
“I know I can,” the vampire cut in, eyes bright with a taunt that danced just out of reach.
Brax closed the distance, his presence casting a sudden, heavy pause over the standoff. The wolf’s nostrils flared, catching Brax’s scent. His gaze flickered, uncertain.
“Move along,” Brax commanded, voice edged with a growl of its own. The wolf’s posture wavered, but his hackles remained half-raised.
“This doesn’t concern you,” the vampire spat, yet his bravado faltered under Brax’s unwavering stare.
“Yeah? Then it’s got nothing to do with him either,” Brax said, nodding toward the wolf. “So, back off. Everyone.” His gestures were clipped and final.
A tense moment lingered, charged before the werewolf took a grudging breath. “Whatever. Not worth it.” He turned, disappearing into the throng with an angry shove of shoulders.
The vampire watched him retreat, eyes narrowed, then scoffed and melded back into the crowd.
Brax’s shoulders eased just a fraction. He watched until the vampire vanished completely, swallowed by the music and motion. The bartender, Leon, shot him a grateful look from behind the stack of scratched glassware.
Shifters leaned in clusters, some animated and others lost to their thoughts. Demons perched high on rafters, peering down with wry interest. Brax caught the glint of a whispered exchange between a fox shifter and a witch near a shadowy corner. The woman’s face was set, the man’s expression restless, shifting with barely contained energy.
“Word’s out. They’re planning something big,” the witch said, voice a thread of tension weaving through the music.
The fox glanced around, nerves sparking like static. “Non-shifters?” he asked, the question hanging, electric.
“Not just them,” she answered, folding her arms tight.
Their words dissolved into the crowd’s murmur, and Brax’s mind kicked into overdrive, piecing together the fragments. Conversations flickered around him like fireflies, just out of grasp. A pair of demon twins muttered something about the city council, their expressions edged with distrust. Another group, this one a tangle of species, nodded sharply to each other as though deciding on an unspoken pact.
He moved further into the room, collecting whispers and watching the rise and fall of the club’s shifting loyalties. A flash of silver hair caught his eye—familiar, but only just—and was gone before he could lock it down.
“Purges don’t just happen,” a haggard voice said, snagging Brax’s focus back. A scarred vampire, older than the rest, hunched over a cigarette that burned forgotten between his fingers.
“Exactly,” a red-haired succubus replied. “That’s why we’re clearing out. While we still can.” Her lips twisted into something that might have been a smile, bitter and fleeting.
The vampire snorted, dismissive but with an edge of concern. “This city’s survived worse. This club, too. Konnor won’t let—”
Brax shifted closer as if proximity might crystallize their intentions. He watched their exchange with the sharp, observing silence that turned glances into information.
“You think the lions can hold back a flood?” The succubus cut him off, her voice sharp and high, and Brax felt the words hook in and pull, setting the hairs on his neck to rise.
He scanned the room again, and a dark realization settled in his gut. The patterns of the night pointed to a tide ready to break—a current that threatened more than the club’s usual wild chaos.
Brax’s jaw tightened, thoughts turning inward as he weighed the risks and rewards of staying put against the call to survive. A solitary choice he’d made again and again, but something about this time felt different, tugging with an insistence that defied nature’s instincts. He moved up the stairs, the bass and muttered voices growing faint behind him as he decided to dig deeper and deeper still.
Brax stood above the club, perched like a falcon on the high, rotting scaffold that ran the length of the ceiling. From there, the scene unfolded below him, a breeding ground of chaos and shifting loyalties. The music thudded loud and constant, the bass a quickening pulse that vibrated through the wood and into his bones. He watched the pack of rowdy shifters on the dance floor, their shifting shapes blurring under purple, red, and blue strobes. From the corner, the club’s owner, Konnor Dupont, caught Brax’s eye, but the lion shifter remained cloistered with a shadow-cloaked figure, their intense conversation a clear message to keep his distance. Brax let his gaze sweep the room, a practiced survey for trouble, but his eyes snagged on a commotion below. The fierce blonde was back, locked in combat with the werewolf. The scene bit into him, tearing the night’s intentions wide open.
Below, Konnor’s expression was taut, his eyes sharp as he spoke to the hidden figure. Their discussion had a feral urgency, hands punctuating points with quick, sharp movements. Brax shifted his weight on the scaffold, trying to read the exchange, but the dark figure stayed carefully concealed, making it impossible to catch a clear view.
Brax scanned the room again, watching the crowd move in disjointed waves, some breaking toward the bar, others clustering in agitated groups. A wiry man jabbed the air with a finger, his words about non-shifters finding quick agreement. Brax watched a burly shifter, bear by the looks of him, slamming his fist into his palm as if in eager punctuation.
“Bite me,” a cat-eyed demon shouted at a rival crew, his bravado like a lit fuse waiting to blow.
Near the stage, an owl shifter and a willowy sorceress eyed each other with suspicion, their confrontation dissolving as the sorceress turned on her heel. The club’s tension spiked high, building towards an unsteady crescendo.
Brax dropped down, landing in the middle of the chaos. His presence sent ripples through the gathered patrons, each calculating the potential for escalation. He made his rounds, shoulders square, steps deliberately. The short-haired blonde flitted at the edge of his awareness, a glimpse he couldn’t hold, drawing him toward the bar.
His attention flicked back to Konnor, who now paced with restrained energy, the cloaked figure holding their ground. Their hushed but animated discussion seemed like more than club politics at play. Brax felt the tug of curiosity, the pull of something new beneath the old conflicts.
“Out of my face,” a blue-haired vamp shouted, voice cutting over the bass. A riot of sound and movement spread out, catching more bodies and more blood up for grabs.
A rat shifter ducked as a bottle sailed past him, a fractured chorus of laughs echoing his escape. Brax kept moving, eyeing the room intently and cataloging the budding skirmishes.
Whispers grew louder as he neared the bar. “Purge night,” a dragonkin said, her voice a rush of smoke and doubt.
“We’ll be gone before then,” another replied, eyes scanning for eavesdroppers.
Brax edged closer, instincts guiding him toward the storm before it broke. Chairs flew, and the night’s fragile alliances snapped.
The werewolf’s furious roar pierced the noise as he lunged, tangling with the platinum blonde in a swift, violent surge. Her movements were quicksilver, matching the wolf with agile, fierce strength. Brax watched as she twisted away from the wolf’s reach, a well-aimed kick staggering him back. She dodged a swing that shattered the wall behind her, spinning low and fast. Brax moved to intervene, the woman’s desperation pulling him in. She smelled of wolf but not of wolf at the same time.
The werewolf lunged again, claws sharp under the club’s erratic lights. She met his charge head-on, ducking beneath his strike and driving a stiff elbow into his side. Brax arrived just as the wolf shook off the hit and sprang again. His voice cut through the clamor, a commanding bark. “Enough!”
The wolf hesitated, mid-strike, torn between rage and Brax’s authority.
“You know where this goes,” Brax said, eyes locked on the wolf.
With a snarl that promised future reckoning, the werewolf pulled back, fists tight at his sides, and faded into the crowd.
Brax turned to the woman. Her breath came fast, her shoulders heaving, and her eyes bright and defiant as they locked onto his. He was closer now, caught by her fierce presence.
She pushed tangled hair from her face, and he saw the full force of her anger. “I had him,” she said, not backing down. “I needed to take him.”
“Seemed like it,” Brax replied with a dry note.
“Didn’t need saving,” she added, arms crossed and feet planted.
“I didn’t save you,” he said. “I saved him.” He jerked his head toward the crowd where the wolf had vanished.
She gave a short, sharp laugh; amusement danced in her eyes. “Lucky dog, then.”
They stood during the chaos, an island of stillness in the charged, churning sea of bodies. Brax’s solitude tugged at him, urging distance, but the woman’s raw presence challenged the call.
“Brax,” he said finally, filling the space between them with the weight of his name.
She regarded him with an unreadable look, a hint of something more than combat glinting in her gaze. “Elle,” she replied.
Nearby, Konnor’s conversation suddenly stopped, the lion shifter’s head snapping up to find Brax with the blonde. The cloaked figure melted into the crowd, leaving Konnor suspiciously standing alone.
The music rose again as Brax returned to Elle, the club’s seething energy momentarily distant.
“Looks like you pissed off the right people,” he said, noting Konnor’s pointed attention.
She followed his gaze. “Not just here.” A sardonic edge colored her words, but Brax sensed urgency and a deeper current underneath.
A stray bottle skidded past, rolling to a stop at Brax’s feet, a noisy reminder of the still-simmering chaos around them.
“So, what happens next?” he asked, compelled by more than the usual need to know.
Elle’s eyes sparked with an emotion Brax couldn’t quite pin down, something between determination and reckless invitation. “Depends on if you’re done saving stray dogs for the night,” she said.
Brax felt the familiar pull of old instincts, the call to stay unentangled and out of sight. But Elle’s challenge—and the potential of her fight—refused to let him step back. He pushed past the pull of solitude, surprising himself with his reply. “Let’s find out.”


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W.M. Dawson lives in the middle of New Mexico. She avoids the melting heat by writing in a wonderfully air-conditioned house with her husband and a herd of cats that believe they run the place. She writes under her pen name Wendy Cheairs. Wendy has been writing for several anthologies and short fiction and breaking into novels. She often lurks on social media when pondering too many story arcs.
AUTHOR WEBSITE
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Shifters Everywhere - Interview With Alison Armstrong

19/5/2025

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1) Tell us about your book/series

Although my book series Feral Rebirth involves vampires, my Consorting with the Shadow: Phantasms and the Dark Side of Female Consciousness book (a collection of essays and short fiction about women in horror) includes a discussion of the shapeshifter archetype in the films Ginger Snaps, Cat People, and Black Swan. I focus on female shapeshifters.

2) What type of shifter do you write about and why?

In that book I write about the female characters from those films, who shapeshift into a werewolf (Ginger Snaps), a cat (Cat People), and a black swan ballerina. I chose to write about these films because they depict different types of animal transformations and reveal the positive as well as negative aspects of shapeshifting.

3) Tell us something interesting or unusual about your main character

I love all three of these female shapeshifters (the werewolf, the cat, and the black swan) because they express rage and feral autonomy, reveling in their animal aspects and the freedom to transcend their human female form.

4) If you could turn into any animal, what would it be and why?

A semi-feral cat who could exist independently from humans but who also could partake in some of the comforts domestic cats have. As a cat, I would be free to express my wild nature, bare my fangs and claws, maybe even become part of a shapeshifting cat colony. In feline form, I would be more agile, break free temporarily from my human consciousness and human expectations, especially the ones restricting women.
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5) What will you be working on next?

My next project will be editing the anthology Life, Death, and Transmutation: A Charity Anthology of Dark Nature Poetry and Fiction, for which I have contributed two poems

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Author Bio:


Alison Armstrong is the author of three literary horror novels (Revenance, Toxicosis, and Dark Visitations), a novella (Vigil and Other Writings), in addition to a collection of writings addressing women and horror archetypes (Consorting with the Shadow: Phantasms and the Dark Side of Female Consciousness). Her work focuses on inner terror, stealthily lurking, solipsistic dread and nightmare flash epiphanies. Having obtained a Master of Arts in English, she has taught composition and literature at Washtenaw Community College in Ann Arbor, MI and Kingsborough Community College in Brooklyn. In addition to her novels and novella (available on Amazon and other online retailers), she has worked as a co-editor of Nature Triumphs: A Charity Anthology of Dark Speculative Literature and has had writings published in that anthology as well as several other horror anthologies and The Sirens Call ezine.
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Shifters Everywhere Event - Excerpt From Debbie Manber Kupfer

12/5/2025

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 GriddleboneDebbie Manber Kupfer
From the world of P.A.W.S.​

The werecat padded silently across the cobbles of the dark Vienna street. It was deserted now, but Griddlebone knew it would soon be filled with bootsteps and cries, gunshots and blood. They were slated to come at dawn, to cleanse this last Jewish neighborhood of its vermin, so that the proper folk of Vienna could finally live Judenfrei.
Inside the darkened houses, the residents huddled in fear. The news of the transport had only come hours before, and some still couldn’t believe it. They had been fooling themselves for months, believing this one insignificant street could survive in its own little bubble, that somehow God would protect them.
They readied themselves with what few valuables they had left. Maybe they could still bribe the Nazi soldiers. Maybe there was still a way out.
The werecat flexed his claws, as he waited in the shadows. Griddlebone wished he could rescue them all, but his orders were clear. He could only take one. They needed to be the right age too – a teenager would be good, strong enough to fight, strong enough to survive the turning.
As the first rays of light caught the cobblestones, Griddlebone felt the bootsteps echoing down the street. Soon. His tail swished back and forth in anticipation. Within minutes, the first soldier came into view. The werecat was all but invisible to the soldiers, his mottled grey coat blending perfectly with the cold grey street.
At the same time as the first soldiers appeared on foot, a silver-grey truck arrived on the street and parked in front of the buildings, waiting for its human cargo.
As the Gestapo soldiers marched past the werecat’s hiding place, he longed to dig his claws into their ankles, to hear them scream with pain. Not yet, Griddlebone, not yet.
The soldiers reached the first house. They banged on the doors.
“Juden, Heraus, Heraus! Schnell, schnell! – Everybody out of there, quickly, quickly.”
At first there was silence. Griddlebone held his breath, waiting. And then, slowly, they came out, squinting in the light of the dawn. They had been inside for so long, sitting in the darkness. They looked like ancient patriarchs held in suspended animation from biblical times. The man had a long white beard and was wearing a prayer shawl. The woman had her head covered and bent. She held out something to the soldiers. The werecat stole closer to get a better look. It was a silver candlestick. The frightened woman offered it to the soldier.
The soldier laughed. He grabbed it and shoved it in his bag, then roughly pulled the old woman forward. She tripped and fell onto the hard cobble street. The soldier kicked her, and she cried out in pain. Throughout this, her husband was bobbing up and down in prayer, praying that God would take them before these Nazis did. His prayers were not answered, and the soldiers forced the old couple into the waiting truck.
More soldiers arrived now and pushed their way into the buildings. The next house held a young family, a mother and father, with two small terrified children. The mother clutched a baby girl in her arms. As they boarded the truck, the baby started crying. The nearest soldier grabbed her from her mother’s arms and flung her with full force into the solid concrete wall. The baby stopped crying. The mother screamed. A Nazi soldier silenced the mother with his gun. The father and his remaining children climbed quietly into the truck, trying not to look back.
The werecat stalked over to the baby. He nudged her gently with his nose, but it was too late, and, in any case, how would his clan have been able to care for a baby? They could barely find enough food for their own kittens these days.
Griddlebone continued watching the parade of Jews being evicted from their buildings. They had been told they were being rehoused, that their homes were needed for the war effort. As patriotic Austrians, surely they understood?
Griddlebone knew that most of these Jews would end up in the concentration camps, if they even survived the transport. A second shot filled the air; a young man this time. He had tried to run, but the soldier had used him for target practice.
Still the werecat watched and waited.
There she was, straggling at the back of another family, the girl he’d been watching for the last few weeks. She looked around with wary eyes and caught sight of the cat on the corner of the street. The cat had been her friend. She would sneak out and give him scraps to eat from her own meager portion. Now the cat was watching her with big orange eyes.
It was strange, she wasn’t scared, despite the soldiers and the guns and the screaming. Of all those here, she thought, looking around at the collection of frightened Jews, she felt that she had the best chance of surviving. She held her head upright and stared straight into the eyes of the Nazi soldiers.
Yes, thought Griddlebone, watching her, I’ve chosen rightly. Esther is strong, a survivor.
Silently Griddlebone sent his message to the rest of the clan members, who were waiting in the shadows. They moved into the previously agreed positions on the street corners. They readied themselves to pounce.
Each cat started out as an insignificant street cat, but slowly they began changing and growing into wildcats that resembled tigers more than tabbies. On Griddlebone’s signal, they launched themselves onto the Nazi soldiers – ripping at them with fearsome teeth and claws.
The soldiers shrieked in fear and fired at the cats, but the felines were far swifter than any of the men. They dodged the bullets with ease, dancing around them, taunting their enemies with their agility. Within just a few minutes, two soldiers had fallen to the werecats. The remaining cut their losses, and quickly shoved the terrified Jews into the transport. They jumped onto the truck and fled.
While the werecats attacked the soldiers, Griddlebone beckoned to the girl. Instinctively, she followed him into the shadows and ran after him through the streets until the howling and screaming was far behind them.
Finally they arrived at an old warehouse. Griddlebone stopped at the door and nudged it with his nose. It creaked open, and the two of them walked in.
The room was filled with yowls and growls . . . and laughter. It was a strange mix that met Esther’s eyes. There were many different cats. Some she supposed were werecats like Griddlebone, but amongst the cats were humans, mostly children about her age. They were sitting in groups – some playing card games or chess, others just talking.
She turned to the old cat. “Where are we?” she asked.
“Headquarters,” he said, his voice echoing in her head. “It isn’t much, but it’s our home.”
“What about my family?” asked Esther, “My friends?”
“I’m sorry,” said Griddlebone, “the Nazis have taken them on the transport. There was nothing we could do. I would love to save everyone, but we cannot. We are lucky if we rescue one person from each transport.”
“Where will they take them?” she asked.
“To the ghetto, but there are rumors that they don’t stay there for long. The Nazis have set up concentration camps, and most that enter those never leave.”
“Just for the Jews?” said Esther.
“Mostly, but not all – also the gypsies, the Communists, the homosexuals, anyone that Hitler doesn’t deem to be pure.”
“And we can’t do anything?”
“We do what we can – everyone here has lost family.”
“Everyone?” asked Esther, looking at the mix of animals and humans in the room.
“Everyone,” answered Griddlebone.
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Shifters Everywhere Event - Running May - June

5/5/2025

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 Welcome to our Shifters Everywhere Event!
Every Monday for the next two months, we will be sharing excerpts, short stories and posts on shifters.
Shapeshifter legends exist across the world. People turning into beasts or animals through curses or magic.
France has the loup garou, a creature that can transform into anything.
Ireland has the selkie - seals that can shed their skins and become human.
​Japan has the kitsune - a fox shifter. 

These legends have been told all over the world and they make excellent story ideas! So if you are a fan of shifters, be sure to check in and maybe grab some new books along the way. 
​Comment below and let us know what you favorite type of shifter is.

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Romantasy Event - Book Recommendations

28/4/2025

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If you are looking for some Romantasy books to sink your teeth into, then check out these books. Available at all major retailers. 
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Romantasy Event - Romantasy Tropes

21/4/2025

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Romantasy and romance books are not that different in terms of tropes, though some will work better than others in a fantasy setting. 

Here is a list of some of the most popular tropes -


  • Enemies to lovers
  • Arranged marriage
  • Bodyguard
  • Cursed
  • Falling for the Villain
  • Fake relationship
  • Forced close proximity
  • Kidnapped
  • Love triangle
  • Soul mates

Many of these tropes cross easily over into fantasy. Enemies to lovers could focus on two rival supernatural clans, forced to work together. Bodyguard romance could focus on a Fae princess and her bodyguard. The possibilities are endless and you can combine tropes to add to the story. Tropes when done right are a great way to draw in readers who love books with similar themes, but it is important to look for some new angles. Putting enough of a twist on a common trope can really make your book stand out. But don't overdo it. Choose two, maybe three tropes and work with them. One example could be a princess is in an arranged marriage, but ends up being kidnapped by a rival clan. There is the option of forced close proximity here or even a love triangle. A fun way might be to write down tropes on individual pieces of paper and picking them at random to use in a story. It can be a fun writing exercise. 

Happy writing!


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Romantasy Event - Romantasy vs Fantasy With Romance

14/4/2025

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What is the difference between Romantasy and Fantasy with Romance?

Simply put in a Romantasy book, the romance is pivotal to the plot. In a Fantasy with Romance, the romance is an extra layer to the story. Much in the same way that Paranormal Romance focuses on the romance element too. 
Your Romantasy novel can contain all the usual romantic tropes, but is set in a fantasy setting or features fantasy creatures in a real world setting.
Some of the most popular examples are Sarah J. Maas and Holly Black. 
It was only a few of years ago that Romantasy properly took off, mostly thanks to Maas. While her A Court of Thorns and Roses series does get mixed reviews, there is no doubt that it really pushed the genre into the spotlight. Many Romantasy books followed from both published and indie authors. So what else can we expect from these books?
  • Many of these books will contain spice, after all, where will the characters go with all that sexual tension? But it is not necessary to have spice in your book if you prefer a clean book.
  • One of the most popular creatures featured in these books are the Fae. Setting a story in the Fae Realm allows for great world building and the Fae can have all sorts of abilities. 
  • A trope that is on the rise is the fake marriage or relationship where the main character must pretend to be with the romantic interest. They may not get on in the beginning, but it usually leads to them falling for each other.
  • A lot of Romantasy books contain darker elements. Given the fantasy element there is often a lot of conflict such as - wars, kidnapping, political issues within the world or assassins. Due to these issues sweet romance doesn't really fit. 
If you choose to try your hand at Romantasy, be sure to read widely within the genre and see what is popular right now. Try to find a new angle or try something new that fewer writers are offering. On the other hand, if your focus is the fantasy world, the issues within and romance comes in second, then you are writing a fantasy book with romance. 

Happy writing!

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Romantasy Event - Falling For The Villain

7/4/2025

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Admit it. You love a good villain love story! I know I do. 
This trope has been used in many stories over the years, where the villain falls for the hero, and it changes them for the better. Some popular examples are Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Damon from Vampire Diaries and Captain Hook from Once Upon A Time.
So what makes it so appealing? For me personally, I like seeing the villain falter. When they go to act on instinct and then stop because they know that it won't be well received by the hero. Of course the fact that they realize this, shows that they are fully aware that their actions are wrong, but they do it anyway.
We do love a good villain in a story, but I think seeing them grow and change is interesting. They may start off trying to kill the hero or at the very least hating them, but somewhere along the way, they fall for them. Forced proximity is often used, along with a bigger villain threatening them all which makes them join forces.
I am a fan of the trope myself, I even released a set earlier this years called Villains Need Love Too. It was a limited set so sadly it has been taken down, but the premise was a villain falling for either a hero or another villain. It was fun to write and it allows you to go to darker places as a writer. Villains don't care about the rules or doing the right thing and often when they first help the hero, they have no choice in the matter. Over time they get closer to the hero and they usually get together.
Can I share an unpopular opinion though? I don't think a lot of the villains deserve their 'happy ending'. Not all, but some of them don't. While I think it is important that they change, the fact that it comes from their feelings for another person makes it seem like that changes is dependent on them. In other words, if they break up or the hero dies, what is stopping them from simply returning to how they were before? That's not true change in my eyes. That is restraining yourself to please someone else. 
A great example of both sides is Stefan and Damon Salvatore from the Vampire Diaries - the show, not the books - because they show two sides of the same coin. Stefan changed on his own, he stuck to it and even after his relationship with Elena ended, he didn't return to being the villain. His growth wasn't dependent on her. Damon's, however, was. When Elena went into her magical coma, he immediately started killing again. While they would be separated, he was going to see her again eventually. Yet he did it anyway. I know the ending of that show was altered to have a 'happy' ending, but I don't believe Damon should have survived. I think he should have died with Stefan.
I know there are some hardcore Spuffy shippers out there too, but I think that was the right ending for Spike. I don't think the two of them belonged together. Of course there was a lot going on behind the scenes and certain scenes should never have happened. 
However, one of my favorite shows - Once Upon A Time - has Captain Hook get his happy ending and I do think he deserved that. I think falling for Emma made him care again, but it wasn't contingent on them being together. He did try to be better. 
So while I love a good villain love story, I believe the villain really has to want to change for themselves and not for another person. They can start them on their journey, but it is up to the villain to keep themselves on it. 
I do notice that in most cases villains are male. So a special mention to Regina from Once Upon A Time. She had a long journey back from being a villain, but it was shown in a way that was believable and her redemption was earned. I think that shows a well developed character, that it is not a case of I've fallen for someone and now I'm going to be a good guy. It is not as simple as that. The villain must fight against their own instincts and work on themselves constantly in order to prevent themselves from slipping back.
These are definitely points to consider if you are writing a villain love story. And please do write some female villains! There aren't enough to read about.

Happy writing!

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Romantasy Event - Guest Post by S. L. Sinclair

31/3/2025

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In my first foray into romantasy, I’m kicking it into high gear with monster RH that has plenty of smut and, um, interesting appendages.
I personally am a fan of humanoid-looking monsters (walking on 2 legs, a mostly discernible face, just like under the Beast in Beauty and the Beast, you could vaguely discern human eyes in a creature’s face). So this is how I came up with my monsters for Evynn to meet in Demonic Dynasty.
Come meet the men!
 
Lyone Aamonson leads the trio of half-demon monsters. He is the most human of them all, as his mother was an unnamed witch the trio’s father, a demon named Aamon, attacked twenty-five years ago, just in time for birthing season.
He tries his hardest to keep his human features on display — long, golden curls, green eyes, goatee — however, his demon side is strong and breaks out at will, giving him shiny, almost iridescent black skin, silver eyes, fangs, wings, and horns that can go into extremely interesting places, as Evynn will find out quickly.
Corel Aamonson is half elven, and while he looks humanoid, it is clear he isn’t human. When possible, he prefers a good mix of elven and demonic features. Elves’ faces are extremely “Uncanny Valley”. Stretched cheeks, pointed nose, elongated and pointed ears. His skin glows a pale jade green with black veins running through all over his body. He likes to let his horns just peek out of the top of his head. He can control parts of nature with his magic, and likes to use vines, thorns, and more while “playing” with Evynn, while his elven tongue can sometimes have a mind of its own.
Finally, we have Pardus Aamonson, who wonders what their shared father was thinking when he impregnated a panther shifter while in her panther form. This anomaly, since shifters typically breed while in human forms, caused him to look more like a cat than a person. His body is lightly covered in dark brown, almost black, fur, and his face is a mix of feline and human. His eyes, however, remain a demonic silver. His hands work like hands, but he can extend his claws like a large cat. His tail serves as a second appendage for pleasure, he can both give and receive through it. And like all male cats, his cock is barbed, not for her pleasure (or is it?).
 
I hope you come meet the Aamonson men and join them on their journey to become full demons!
 
Pre-order: https://books2read.com/demonicdynasty1
Find S.L. Sinclair:
Links: https://www.amazon.com/stores/S.L.-Sinclair/author/B097QPHSZN
https://instagram.com/readslsinclair
(3) S.L. Sinclair's Sinners | Facebook
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S.L. Sinclair Books - BookBub
S.L. Sinclair (Author of The Family Firm)
https://substack.com/@partnersincrimebookservices

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About S.L. Sinclair

S.L. Sinclair is a dark romance and taboo author fascinated with human sexuality, murder, and psychology. Beyond Her Duties was her first release, which made her an international bestseller. Followed by the surprise smash hit The Family Firm, cementing her in the dark and taboo genres of romance.
They’re part of the LGBT+ community as bisexual and nonbinary and uses she/they pronouns.
When not writing, she’s watching horror movies and has her nose buried in whatever book is closest. Sometimes she actually goes outside.
Also by S.L. Sinclair
Beyond Her Duties (MF)
The Family Firm (RH)
The Family Secret (RH)
The Family Fortune (RH)
Wife For Hire (MF)
Call Me Danger (RH)
Don’t Get Me Twisted (RH)
Please Love Me (MMMM)
Unbiased (RH)
Perfect Martinis (MF)
Acts of Contrition (MF)

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