 RamoraDebbie Manber Kupfer Ramora stood on the peak of Manus Wu. It had taken her six hours to climb the slope, but finally she’d arrived. She took a deep breath and gazed down into the valley below. By now her mother would be preparing the evening meal. She wondered if she’d even noticed Ramora was gone. From this high up, it felt like she could reach out and touch the clouds. She sat down and waited. The fairy had said she would come. She felt in her pockets for the vial of potion and the silver coin. Freedom – she would buy her freedom from the fairy. It was the only way. She gazed down at her mud-splattered dress, so impractical for climbing the mountain. No matter, the fairy had promised her riches – dresses of spun silk, pearls, and emeralds. She would have no need for this old rag anymore. She had first met the fairy on the day she was summoned. Her mother and father had called her into the drawing room on the morning of her twelfth birthday. It was time, they said, she was to be betrothed. The gentleman sitting in the drawing room was three times her age and gazed at her like a piece of meat. He was a merchant from the market, by the name of Rodwin. He had a cruel look in his eyes as he appraised his bride-to-be. “She will do,” he said. Ramora felt warm tears rolling down her cheeks, but she said nothing; there was nothing she could say. This was the custom in her village, and she was of age. The wedding was set three moons hence. “It’s not fair,” said Ramora to herself, as she sat several hours later on the Thinking Rock at the edge of the village. She watched an eagle soar through the sky. “Oh, how I wish I could fly away from all this.” “Why so glum?” said a voice. “A maiden as young and beautiful as you should be happy, and yet you seem so sad.” Ramora looked up. The fairy was emerald green with tiny gossamer wings and beady yellow eyes. She hovered by Ramora’s side and smiled at the girl, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I am to be married,” said Ramora. “Then you should be joyful,” said the fairy. “Is that not what every young woman wants?” “It is what my parents want.” “And a girl should always listen to her parents, oh yes!” said the fairy. “For if she does not, no good can come of her. But still, if a girl should want more, well maybe there is something a certain Teg, could do for her . . .” “Teg?” asked Ramora confused. She thought she’d heard the word once, but could not place it. “Ah, I see you don’t know me . . . I, on the other hand, have been watching you ever since the day you were born. Watching and waiting, watching and waiting . . .” “Waiting for what?” “For you to see me, of course, for I am Morgana. Morgana the Teg – the most powerful Teg in the whole of the universe, and that is a very big place. My sister Stella believes that she is the strongest, but she is wrong. Morgana has the greatest power.” “You don’t look very powerful,” said Ramora dismissively, gazing with disdain at the tiny, fluttering fairy. “Smart girl. That is because Morgana is currently between hosts. But you, dear, can help Morgana. And grateful Morgana will help you. With me you can have riches beyond imagination. With me you will not have to marry that boorish merchant. With Morgana you can be a princess and have your choice of princes from around the globe. And there is more . . .” “More?” “Don’t you think it a shame that one day you will die?” “Of course, but everyone dies, eventually, and I am young. I have years before I need to worry about that.” “Ah, but those years fly quickly. Tick tock, tick tock and before you know it you are old and spent. But it does not have to be. If you come to Morgana, you will never die. With me, you will live forever and ever and ever.” Ramora stared at the Teg. “Think about it. I will be watching. But one thing – you must make your decision before you marry. For my magic to work, you must be innocent. Morgana does not care for a soiled body. For Morgana you must be pristine.” And with that she disappeared. Want to read more? Join Debbie Manber Kupfer’s newsletter and download a free copy of Ramora.  Debbie Manber Kupfer grew up in the London. She has lived in Israel, New York and North Carolina and somehow ended up in St. Louis. She lives with her family including two very opinionated felines.
She works as a writer, editor, and puzzle constructor. She is the author of the young adult fantasy series, P.A.W.S. which features a secret international organization of shapeshifters. She has also written several children’s picture books including Adana the Earth Dragon and Esmeralda Grunch and the Red Tulip. She is the editor of the Sins of Time horror series and has stories in anthologies including Fauxpocalypse, 13 Candles, and Corvid19. When not writing or editing fiction she writes puzzles for Penny Press magazines, the Tribune newspaper, and has also published a book of puzzles, Paws 4 Logic with her son, Joey. She believes that with enough tea and dark chocolate you can achieve anything! Where to find Debbie: Paws4Thought: http://debbiemanberkupfer.wordpress.com/ Paws4Puzzles: http://paws4puzzles.wordpress.com/ Facebook Author page: https://www.facebook.com/DebbieManberKupferAuthor Amazon: http://author.to/DebbieManberKupfer Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7142164.Debbie_Manber_Kupfer Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cRhORP Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/debbiepaws/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjFGmnQLrtSBTkxa3BYddHA Facebook group – P.A.W.S. People: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1399907483420330 Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/debbie-manber-kupfer
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 For November and December, we will be exploring the Magical World of the Fae. With new interviews, excerpts and more, we will have new posts every Monday.
The Fae range from fairies, to sprites, to brownies and elves. There is so much variety and so many creatures to write about. Here in Ireland, we have many legends about fairies. Banshees are the most famous - a wailing woman who predicts the death of certain people by wailing at night. She is definitely one type of Fae you don't want to meet. Changelings are another type of Fae where a human baby is swapped for a Fae child. This was often used to explain disabilities a child may have had back then. The Fae are complicated and while a lot of them are not strictly bad, they are mostly seen as tricksters. They may help humans from time to time, but they always have a price. What are your favorite types of Fae?  It's Halloween week and the best week of the year! The veil is thinning - can you feel it?
Halloween or Samhain is an important time of year. It is when we honor the dead and those who came before. Yes, it has been commercialized, but we still hold on to some of the traditions. Carved pumpkins are used to keep malevolent spirits away. Traditionally they were turnips, but pumpkins have become more widely used. We dress in costumes to hide ourselves from evil spirits too. The idea being it makes it safer for us to walk among them and avoid being noticed. If you want to celebrate those who have passed, you can light candles and set a place for them at the table. Some people visit local cemeteries to bring offerings to the dead. While Halloween is a fun night for many where they get candy and dress up, it is important to remember those who came before. Have a safe and fun Halloween.       All books are available on Amazon to download.
 Ghosts in the Snow Part of Dark Delights, a paranormal/horror collection by Lily Luchesi “And now, my sweet Vincent, you are mine.” As if those words were a summons, the wind outside began to howl louder, buffeting the windows with snow and ice. Even the stoic Veronica jumped, frightened, as the shutters blew wildly and the window itself unlatched. It flapped back and forth in the wind, banging loudly, hard enough they were both certain the glass would crack. “Bloody Hell!” Vincent said as he leapt up to close the windows. He pounded on the latch, trying to keep it in place. Veronica, however, was not looking at her husband. Rather, she was focused on the image appearing behind and to the right of him. An elderly man with long, brittle, white hair stood, leaning on a monogrammed cane. He flickered a few times before becoming totally solid. “Vincent!” She pointed and he turned. A seasoned hunter, the ghost itself was most likely not what startled him, but rather the fact that there was one here, in their bedroom. And the spirit looked anything but friendly. He pointed his cane at Vincent in an accusatory manor. “Mortals do not lie with demons!” he intoned. Vincent squared his shoulders, his eyes not leaving the spirit. “Who are you? What do you want here, tonight?” “I am the destroyer of evil in this house.” Veronica quietly slipped out of bed, keeping an eye on her husband and the spirit. “No, you are not. You are disturbing us.” Vincent glanced at Veronica and continued, “You do not belong to this world any longer. I compel you to leave this plane and go to your final rest.” The ghost laughed, a wheezing sound. “You cannot compel me to do anything. Not with the evil running in your veins.” “Maybe he cannot, but this certainly can.” Veronica swung the iron fireplace poker through the spirit, temporarily decimating it. Vincent let out a breath. “Friend of yours, perhaps?” Before Veronica could reply, the house began to tremble beneath their feet. They grabbed onto each other as the man’s phantom voice rose to fill the very air in the room. “We are the Keepers of Cumberland Manor, and we will continue our work, no matter how you try to thwart us.” books2read.com/darkdelights  Lily Luchesi is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of the Paranormal Detectives Series.
Her young adult Coven Series has successfully topped Amazon's Hot New Releases list consecutively. She is also the co-owner of Partners in Crime Book Services, where she offers a myriad of services alongside her business partner Annie Smith, including editing. She was born in Chicago, Illinois, where many of her stories are set. Ever since she was a toddler, her mother noticed her tendency for being interested in all things "dark". At two she became infatuated with vampires and ghosts, and that infatuation turned into a lifestyle. She is also an out member of the LGBT+ community. When she's not writing, she's going to rock concerts, getting tattooed, watching the CW, or reading comics and manga. And drinking copious amounts of coffee. She also writes contemporary books for adults as Samantha Calcott. You can also keep up with Lily via her newsletter!  1) Tell us about your book. My story dives into a dystopian world where what we once knew as everyday human beings have now become the creatures of the night, when survival becomes a necessity, not a choice. And where the divide between the rich and the poor becomes a sacrifice for everyone’s well-being. 2) What themes does your book explore? The themes I created hinge on real-world issues: disparity between the rich and the poor, and what it can do to a society in need, ultimately, what life could become if these issues continue to go unchecked. With this story, I exposed one of the many possibilities of what this kind of narrative would do if the assassination of our democracy were to succeed. 3) Tell us something unusual about your main character? As a child, she had the ability to remain stoic. In adulthood, it became her superpower to break the cycle—a resilient and driven woman who found her voice through an unexpected situation. 4) Do you believe in ghosts? I do believe in ghosts! I have never had any personal encounters, but I have heard stories and seen enough videos to make me question their existence. 5) What is next for you? I have a new story, titled Porcelain, a novelette with the flair of the tooth fairy legend coming out this fall! I also have a couple of other works I’m ironing out the kinks with. So, make sure to keep an eye out for them!  Hello! I’m Amber Hassler, known as the Twister of Mystery. With the customary cliché, I write. Nothing is more satisfying than creating a whole world or a set of characters in my mind and sharing it with everyone to read. I have also added ghostwriting, book consulting, and professional editing to my resume. I write for First Comics News, a pop culture nerd website with over two million readers a month, under Twisted News, and run the Horror Writers Association Las Vegas Chapter in my free time.
 I’ve discussed my encounter with the Hat Man before, at length, when I was fourteen. In my life, I have witnessed numerous ghosts and unexplained phenomena as long as I can remember, but rarely did any but my mother witness it with me. Until my boyfriend at the time visited us. While he believed the paranormal was real, he doubted our tale about the ghost in our apartment (one of two at the time; perhaps one day I will tell the world about Katie, too). My mother’s longtime friend for over two decades received the devastating diagnosis: cancer, terminal. He was only in his forties, and the American healthcare system caused much grief when they did not believe him when he said he was ill, thinking him a drug addict. I had not met my mom’s friend since I was about four, at this time I was around fifteen, so it had been some time, but I spoke to him and saw pictures and home videos where he and his friends were at my family’s home, laughing, eating, and alive. There was a tale my mother recalled often, the day she met her friend. It was at his band’s concert; he was a brand new drummer after the old one chose to quit. Mom walked into the backstage area to see someone brushing their long, silken black hair upside down to give it volume. The man stood, flipping his hair back, and my mother swore it was in slow motion. It felt like a bad romance film, she said. However, he was just as gorgeous as a romantic hero, and infinitely kind. Ghosts do come back to visit their loved ones. My nonna did, my mother did, and mom’s friend did as well. He especially came around when we were playing VHS tapes (yeah, this was a while ago, when a VHS/DVD combo player was the norm in most households) that had his band’s music videos on them. When I mentioned it to my boyfriend, he scoffed. “You expect me to believe you summon this dude?” he asked, grinning like I told the funniest joke known to man. He believed in ghosts. He didn’t have a choice; often when we hung out, unexplained things happened around me. “You don’t have to believe me. You’ll see when you come over this weekend,” I replied. Teenage me didn’t have a whole host of confidence, but I was certain of one thing: ghosts are often predictable. Especially the newly dead. We spent a normal day in town, going to the mall, getting Slurpees, typical teen things. Mom picked us up and we went to our place, had dinner, then settled in the living room with the lights low to watch music videos. I can recall we watched a HIM concert, some Iron Maiden, and Mom then put on her friend’s band’s VHS. The way the living room was set up, it was a long rectangle and the couch was in the corner, coffee table before it, and the light from the TV across from it flooded the corner almost like a shadow puppet show would have. Our three silhouettes were clearly displayed across the beige paint job so common in middle America in 2007. Mom and I saw him then. The fourth shadow of a person who was not physically in the room. My boyfriend’s whole body went rigid next to me, no longer dancing in his seat to the music. “Annie? Lily?” he asked, his voice high and tight, much higher than normal. He didn’t turn his head fully; only his eyes moved, glancing from me to his left, to the wall towards his right. As if moving would disturb the spirit. “Yeah?” I asked. “So, um, Annie’s friend…” He finally moved, trying to mimic the shadow. “Did he, um, did he do this?” And my boyfriend proceeded to pretend he was brushing his hair upside down, then flipped his head back up. Just like the spirit did. Just like Mom’s story, which she never told my boyfriend. He could never have known that specific movement to lie and say he saw the spirit along with us. “Yep,” Mom replied. “HOLY SHIT.” You’d think my boyfriend shouted, but the words were somehow at once a yelp and a whisper. “He’s right there!” He cocked his head towards the wall, eyes wide and unblinking. “We are aware,” I replied, rolling my eyes a little. “Do you believe me now?” Mom paused the TV, and the fourth shadow vanished now that the music stopped, which my ex also noticed. “I’ve never seen anything like that except when I’m around you,” he accused. Mom gave him a tap on the shoulder. “That’s your cue to know you should be extra nice to her.” I smiled at him, brushing his shoulder with mine. “Yeah. I might get a ghost friend to make you need Viagara.”  Lily Luchesi is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of the Paranormal Detectives Series.
Her young adult Coven Series has successfully topped Amazon's Hot New Releases list consecutively. She is also the founder of Partners in Crime Book Services, where she offers a myriad of services, including editing. They were born in Chicago, Illinois, where many of their stories are set. Ever since she was a toddler, her mother noticed her tendency for being interested in all things "dark". At two they became infatuated with vampires and ghosts, and that infatuation turned into a lifestyle. She is also an out member of the LGBT+ community. When not writing, she's going to rock concerts, getting tattooed, watching the CW, or reading comics and manga. And drinking copious amounts of coffee. Lily also writes contemporary books for adults as Samantha Calcott, and dark/taboo romance as S.L. Sinclair. www.lilyluchesi.com  If you love ghosts, be sure to check out the Smoke & Shadow Anthology which is available now for FREE!
Six witches, six destinies that could affect the fate of the world... Isadora is a seer who is hired by a vampire to get a vision of his future. What she sees terrifies her and sets in motion a chain reaction of events that could lead to war. ∞ As a voodoo practitioner, Vivienne works with spirits all the time. But when she finds several spirits who don't seem to know that they are dead, she must figure out what happened to them. ∞ Calliope is a necromancer, trapped working for her father at the funeral home. But another side of Calliope longs to be free and she'll do anything to make that happen. ∞ Gwendoline is an expert spellcaster with a troubled past. When an angel asks for help, she finds herself in danger... ∞ Aurora has a talent for potion making, but when she is accused of murder, she has no choice but to trust the Fae for help. ∞ Rosalind is gifted with pyrokinesis. When she is offered a job by a prestigious firm, she jumps at the chance. But where will it lead? In a world filled with werewolves, vampires, monsters and more, witches are the bottom of the pile. But these witches are destined for great things. As their stories unfold, these witches must tap into their powers to save the ones they love and prevent the supernatural factions from killing each other. Will they succeed? Featuring stories from six authors - S. K. Gregory, Sarina Langer, Addison Sinclair, Tavita Knight, Kat Gracey and C.A. King. The Call of Six Anthology is a prequel collection. The Call of Six Novels will be available from October 2025.  Lakegrave School for Young Women Lauren Carter Genre: Horror, Dark Academia, Historical Fiction Date of Publication: 9th September 2025 ISBN: 9781739376444 ASIN: B0F74BRMC3 Number of pages: 237 Word Count: 54k words Cover Artist: Grim Poppy Designs Tagline: Lakegrave is unlike any other school Book Description: Here, we do not care where you are from or who you are. We care that you are women. And we care about your minds. Lakegrave is unlike any other school. Hidden in the mountains of Scotland, it only accepts one bright woman per specialist subject. With no teachers and no curriculum, the self-taught establishment offers its students the tools to expand their skillsets to then go onto being masters in their fields. When Raven and her cousin Rowan are accepted, they are excited to refine their crafts and converse with fellow classmates. That is until students go missing. Some come back but they are not as they once were. Something is off about them. Something is misplaced. So when fellow student Esme wants to investigate and invites Raven to join, they uncover that there’s much more to the school than they thought with chilling secrets kept tucked away in its history. But with ghosts stirring and the cohort decreasing, will any of them make it to graduation? Amazon Book Trailer: https://www.instagram.com/p/DJHXckqI6ge/ Excerpt: There isn’t much known about Lakegrave School for Young Women due to its remote location and it being a new school, but it is the only school in the world known for its unique education style—it’s completely self-taught. There are no teachers, just one headmistress. The school only invites the best and brightest women from across the globe to study there for one year before being scouted to go on to their dream careers. This didn’t mean smart in absolutely everything but a genius in our own field. That is the other unique thing—it also only invites one person per specialist subject. That’s why Rowan and I were lucky enough to be accepted. Rowan is only just old enough to attend at one and twenty years of age; I, on the other hand, have two years on her. Luck was also on our side when we were encouraged to pursue different hobbies instead of the same, otherwise we wouldn’t have been accepted concurrently. Leading up to the school, I can only make out the tops of the building as the hedge has overgrown so much. It’s as if the place has been neglected over the summer, if not over the years. Such an odd notion for a new educational establishment but, then again, it was something else before. I reach the main gate and see a crest at the top. In the middle, there is a sprig of lavender and on each side of the shield are bees facing inward. This looks like it’s been cleaned recently. Couldn’t say the same for the rest of the gate. It looks like it once was black, but it is brown now due to the rust. I don’t want to touch it, so I nudge it open with my elbow and shut it again once I’m in. It’s called a school, but it would be better off compared to a castle, just like every other boarding school that exists. The windows stretch tall and look like they are modelled after a church. Although it is a fairly new build, its appearance is like it has been designed as old-fashioned on purpose, fitting in with something from the 1600s rather than the 1800s. And it almost looks like it’s falling apart, the brickwork cracked and turning the walls into a darker colour rather than its usual sand. It is preposterously big for a school that doesn’t admit too many students. There is definitely some sort of beauty to the building but for some reason, even in the daytime, it appears a little ominous—as if the place is lifeless. It seems as though the garden has overtaken everything as greenery and moss is growing alongside the building. To the west of the school there are some greenhouses and to the east of the school is a church. The ground crunches as I walk up to the building. There is a huge fountain which is bordered by the driveway on either side but appears not to work, and a huge statue coming out from the middle of it. I’m not that knowledgeable about Greek gods but I know it’s Aphrodite. It seems fitting to have her standing guard over us. I pause by the front door, already hearing voices coming from within, so I grip my violin case tighter and push the double doors inwards—letting them shut me away for the next year.   About the Author:
Lauren (she/they) is a library assistant by day and writer by night. She is the author of WHEN THE DEMONS TAKE HOLD and YOUR DARLING DEATH. She has published several short stories including: ALIVE, JUST with The Horror Tree, THE CHILDREN OF OWL WILDS with Haunted Words Press, and THE SACRIFICES WE MAKE with Rooster Republic Press. https://x.com/writerlcarter https://sleekbio.com/writerlcarter https://www.instagram.com/writerlcarter/ https://bsky.app/profile/writerlcarter.bsky.social  CHAPTER ONE
The fog curled around him as he walked, attempting to envelope him. On any other day, it wouldn’t bother him, but now… Picking up the pace, he headed for the house, hoping to get inside before it got worse. It was eerily quiet out here, not even birdsong broke the silence. While he welcomed the escape, he did not like the lack of noise. With nothing to distract him, it left him alone with my own racing thoughts. Thoughts he wished to avoid. The house loomed up out of the fog and he paused to take it in. He was lucky to get it on such short notice, but when they saw his offer, they were only too happy to allow him to rent it out for the month. I just need some time to rest and come to terms with what happened. Clutching the handle of his suitcase tighter, he glanced around, almost expecting something to lurch out of the fog at him. A ridiculous notion, but after what happened back at home, it had made him jumpy. All he needed was to rest, kick back with a good brandy and collect his thoughts. This would pass. Walking up to the house, he searched his pockets for the key. Setting the suitcase down, he patted my coat down. What had he done with it? Somewhere in the distance, a fox screamed and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Taking a breath, he scanned the fog. What was it doing out at this time? It had to have been a fox, he had heard many of them at home, but this one sounded slightly different. Almost like a woman screaming, but different. Enough foolishness, get inside the house. He finally located the key and unlocked the door. Hurrying inside, he closed it and made sure to lock it. Nothing was getting in through there. Feeling somewhat better, he turned and took in the house. A large foyer stretched out before him. To the right lay the sitting room, the left the parlor. The house was dimly lit as the shutters had been kept drawn to prevent thieves from looking inside. Before all of this, the dark had never bothered him, but now he had taken to keeping a candle lit by his bed at night. A childish act, but he needed something to soothe his frayed nerves. Leaving his suitcase by the stairs, he stepped into the sitting room and opened the drapes to let some light in. Due to the fog, it didn’t do much to break through the gloom, but it gave him enough light to start a fire. Once it was crackling away, he went in search of a drink. He discovered a bottle of brandy in a sideboard and poured a generous measure. Removing his coat, he settled down in a chair by the fire. A few sips into the brandy and he finally started to relax. Everything he saw must have been the product of a fertile imagination, nothing more. Ghosts did not exist. They only existed in stories designed to scare children. And he was not a child. A scream came from outside, closer than before. He jerked up, looking toward the window. Had the fox come up to the house? Perhaps it was sick or injured. That might explain why it was out. Curious, he got up and moved to the window. The fog was practically at the glass now. There was no hope of seeing the fox unless it was right under the window. Still, he leaned forward, trying to make out anything that might be out there. A dark figure passed through the fog and he leaped back. That was no fox. It looked like a person. A woman to be exact. Spooked, he shut the drapes and moved back to the fire. It was just his imagination. And yet, he worried what would happen when night fell once more. Out Now - Available At All Major Book Retailers |
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About the Author:S. K. Gregory is an author, editor and blogger. She currently resides in Northern Ireland. “Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.” 
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