Thursday, April 20, 2017

You'll Never Guess Who the Old Man Really is!!!!

Now, there are hints throughout, see if you can guess. You might be distracted by the other characters and the reasons they are monstrous, however. 

Listen in on a telling conversation between Fred Dodger and one of his performers. It's about his father and himself. Dark secrets abound!!

“My father’s no saint, Al. He’s done murder…”

“You told me he had murdered. Look at me and Hank and the clowns…”

Fred let out a loud sob. “It’s much worse what he did…you can’t imagine.”

He was certain Al was going to speak but when he didn’t, Fred continued. “My father was wanted… He still is; he always will be…what he did…”

“You can tell me…”

“I’ve killed, too, Al. I killed to protect him—see, he killed some women…”

Fred couldn’t get the rest out. Al soothed him, said he could confide in him. “What is it? What’s preying upon you, Fred? Something is—Who did your dad kill? You can tell me, honest. I won’t tell no one!”

(end of excerpt)

"Don't be fooled into thinking this is a routine, run-of-the-mill, carnival scary. Nothing routine here! CIRCUS OF HORRORS is a very special story, and I'm glad it introduced me to author Carole Gill, an exceptionally talented writer."

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the sideshow.

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"

“Scary from beginning to end! Sit back and read your way into a horror filled tale! Enjoy!”


Monday, April 17, 2017


No! Don't laugh. It's possible to promote books after death. Zombies, I know from personal experience can and Vampires probably can too. But I'm here for the ZOMBIES!

The walking dead can most certainly promote books. How do I know? I'm one of them! Sadly, what passes for 'a life' is what I endure, not live now--after my husband's death. I function on autopilot. I wish I didn't, but I do, at least for now.

The only difference between me and a genuine zombie is I don't eat flesh! Actually I don't eat meat anyway. Maybe that's the reason!

If you want to be kind to a zombie like me, I'd appreciate it! I'll try to blog more to keep you guys entertained. I am working on some projects so that's good!

Here's a bit from my new novel! It's got ghosties and goulies and short and long legged beasties with hauntings to make you wince but it also tells the story of loss and the search for life beyond death!

“How are you feeling today?”
            I felt like telling the doctor to go fuck himself. But thought better of it.
He looked odd to me. But that was because I was cracked and had been ever since my loss. It took me a few seconds to realize he was talking to me. That understanding smile now to show me he wasn’t annoyed with my lack of attention.
“I’m sorry…”
“That’s alright…just tell me how you are today.”
“The same.”
I had thought of a stronger reaction as in hostile, but then I thought better of it. Besides, a two word answer like that was probably provocative enough.
He was reading through the nurses' notes. “You’re sleeping well?”
“Yes, except when I don’t.”

Watch it, Liz. 

Back soon! 

Circus of Horrors is Not Just About Scary Clowns...!

99 cents NOW thru April 23!
Scary clowns are fun to write about, but I write character-driven horror. The characters in this novel and all my novels are motivated by their own experiences. They might have an agenda, a mission, as the character, 'good old carny,' Joe has. And boy what an agenda that is!

The clowns are murderous because of their childhood abuse they suffered. Each performer in Fred Dodger's sideshow has suffered and that suffering has made them what they are. Joe comes along and seems to know their secrets, all of their secrets. He even knows why Old Pa, Fred's dad, keeps a certain box close to him.

Creativia has put this book on promotion for a short time beginning now. If you like really dark, gut-wrenching horror that has a point, this is for you!

“This is horrific in the best way! It is extreme ... and disturbing!"

"Riveting. Imaginative. Chilling. Fantastical."

"Wonderful horror with a side order of ribs."

"Outstanding story line and strong characters. I felt like I was right there and a part of the sideshow.

"An awesome little creepfest!"

"Never going to the circus again!"

"True horror!"


Sunday, March 19, 2017

The Dark Truth of My Fiction

"5out of 5 stars HORRIFIC VAMPS & GREAT STORY!!!
I'm hooked on Carole Gill!! I prefer more details about a Vampires life, knowing they're Satan's creatures, and love that this author portrays them as they are!!! Intense read and that there's real history in a her novels, makes it even more interesting!! If you're offended by language, sex, bondage, and savagery, look to the Chic lit on the paranormal!!! Carole Gill is phenomenal!!!!"
Reviewer on Amazon 

This review was written for I, Bathory, Queen of Blood. However the essence of it applies to the horror fiction I write. It particularly applies to all my vampire novels which include a series of four books as well as two other novels that follow.

The Blackstone Vampires consists of four novels. The House on Blackstone Moor, Unholy Testament-The Beginnings, Unholy Testament-Full Circle and The Fourth Bride (The Blackstone Vampires Omnibus comprises all four novels), Justine: Into the Blood and I, Bathory, Queen of Blood. 

This reviewer nailed it. I don't write lightly. Vampires are monsters, beings from hell that subsist on human blood. They have feelings and, though demonic, they can love in their strange and dark way. But mostly, they lust and feed. They do this because that's what vampires, real fictional vampires, do.

The Series contains horror also of a different nature as it is historically based, covering thousands of years and includes human horror. I thought that only fair. Evil is evil, after all.

There are readers that enjoy the dark side and readers that don't. I think they should have a choice. For those who want to step into the dark and experience what goes with it, I'd suggest they read my fiction.

Chic Lit is a great subgenre. It suits a lot of readers. But horror is horror unless it is a specific type of subgenre which is fine. Here is a definition of horror that is worth a read:



an overwhelming and painful feeling caused bysomething frightfully shocking, terrifying, orrevolting; a shuddering fear: to shrink back from a mutilated corpse in horror, anything that causes such a feeling: killing, looting, and other horrors of war, such a feeling as a quality or condition: to have known the horror of slow starvation. a strong aversion; abhorrence: to have a horror of emotional outbursts. Informal. something considered bad or tasteless: That wallpaper is a horror. The party was a horror. horrors, Informal.
delirium tremens.
extreme depression. adjective inspiring or creating horror, loathing, aversion,etc.: The hostages told horror stories of their year in captivity. centered upon or depicting terrifying or macabre events: a horror movie. interjection
horrors, (used as a mild expression of dismay,surprise, disappointment, etc.)

I take that onboard with my horror fiction. That's what I write, that's the dark truth of what I write.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

No Helplines in Victorian Times

There were absolutely no helplines, support groups or any resources for a young person to go to. No help at all. Judging a character in a novel that takes place in Victorian times by 21st Century standards is laughable and silly at best.

Consider Rose Baines. She just waits it out every night. She hopes her father will get killed during his nightly strolls that he enjoys, after terrorizing the family that is.

When she returns after a visit to an aunt and finds her family has been murdered by her father who has obviously committed suicide, she just screams.

The family doctor is summoned:


“I am sorry, Rose, but you must go with them.”

People can’t be left around screaming, you understand. I was silenced by strong hands. 

“Come along, Miss. That’s better.”

end of quote.

She is taken to the madhouse. The only option available in a society at a time when nothing crucial to the survival of a human being was discussed if it was deemed to be 'improper.'

This is where the nightmare begins. This is how her father's sin eventually led her to Blackstone House and the vampires.


“The figure of the gothic child was there. Stoker's horror was there. Along with the romance! At the heart of her writing one stumbles upon a genuine search for that darkness we lost with the loss of Stoker."
DR. MARGARITA GEORGIEVA ~ Gothic Readings in The Dark

Top 10 Books - 2013
Aoife Marie Sheridan - ALL THINGS FANTASY
Publisher, Ultimate Fantasy Books

"92 Horror authors you need to read right now"
Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series
~Charlotte Books - EXAMINER

I for one found this gloriously gothic, refreshingly brutal, honestly horrific and a great read.
~Taliesin Meets the Vampires

Best Horror, best villain, Eco Efestival of Words 2014

Now thru March 17, 99 cents at 

Friday, March 3, 2017

All Pacts Lead to Hell!

Child murderer, Gilles de Rais, who rode with Joan of Arc
This short story is about the monstrous, Gilles de Rais and his delusion regarding damnation. The demon, Eco tells of his encounter with this man. Eco is my favorite character. He's an intelligent demon. Sometimes evil and depraved but always honest. It is his punishment:

Excerpt: "It is I, your servant, Eco once again with an accounting of the final judgement of a certain man that I myself witnessed–an individual who dishonestly made a pact with Satan. By the way, if there are any apologists for this man, then I can only say this: I heard his confession from the man’s own lips.
Gilles de Rais was his name, former aide to Joan of Arc and a notorious child murderer. 

His castle and its grounds were filled with the mutilated remains of children savagely killed. Children had in fact been vanishing for years, but nothing was done. You see at this time in France a noble could rather do as he wished as long as peasants were the only ones being victimized.

de Rais used his servants and cousin to snatch the objects of his sexual depravity whenever he liked. Still on occasion he grew bored. At such times he’d over spend. He was very extravagant and regularly found himself in need of money. Like so many at the time he believed alchemy was the answer to money worries. He was told of a famous sorcerer who could turn water into gold. That is what drove him to contact the renowned Francois Prelati. Prelati was more than willing when he saw de Rais’ opulent lifestyle.

“Of course it is possible,” he said. “However, in order to do this my lord—a demon must be summoned from hell and in order for that to happen, I will have to write my spells in a book using the blood of children!”

The corpses of children were never far away and the request was cheerfully granted. Prelati was given more than enough children’s blood with which to write the book of spells for the summoning. He was also given other assorted grisly items for sacrifice. Prelati was pleased. “Now for the final requirement–the pact. You must hold a parchment wherein you have stated your pledge to give Satan your soul!” de Rais agreed and the ceremony went on. What Prelati never realized was deRais had stipulated he would do anything, but he would not give up his soul!

The cheek! I mean really! I find that rather distasteful though I am of demonic origins myself. But one has to recognize truth when one comes upon it. Eventually, de Rais was arrested for something else entirely–the child murders were discovered accidentally. The result, however, was a trial. Satan and I saw him during his trial. We were passing ourselves off as Papal Emissaries which was rather fun.

The court was incensed by de Rais’ contempt. He was hostile and condescending. When the court adjourned for a two-day break, Satan and I visited him. During those two days both Satan and I spoke to him.

A great deal can be accomplished under such circumstances! When court resumed, he returned contrite and pled for his entry back into the church. He confessed and said his one desire was to face his death bravely. Any nobility he had lost he was intent on recouping. He did of course foolishly believe the clerics who said he was forgiven and would enter heaven! 

You see they may believe that to be the case, but in the last analysis, it is up to the old man there and we all know God isn’t a push over. If you think God forgives all manner of sin then take another scan through the Old Testament. I know where of I speak. I am the son of a fallen angel and let me tell you right now, there are those who immediately regretted siding with Lucifer and sought forgiveness. Their answer was eternal damnation, not forgiveness! When the end came, I saw de Rais go bravely to his death. 

He wished to set an example to the others who were condemned with him: his cousin and some servants. Prelati managed to get off with his life but that was only temporary. As for de Rais, Satan and I were there to greet him when he reached hell.

“It is you!” he cried when his eyes beheld Satan. “Yes,” Satan answered. “And now you are mine, for it is only right!” If he looked horrified then, he looked worse as the legion of demons began to descend on him–pinching and tormenting him.
 “I have been damned!” he cried.

“For all time!” Satan replied. “You see in a way I am God’s heavy. I punish those who are not worthy of heaven. But also–!” he added, “I don’t like to be made a fool of!

Pact indeed, how dare you presume to hold back your soul from me?!” I winced to see the terrible pain and suffering that began to be inflicted upon this man. “Yes,” Satan cried. “A pact is a pact. There is no going back, no codicils here! Hell is not a court of law, there is no bargaining. Your sins are the currency that earns you damnation!” ‘Such is the word of Satan—Lord to all who are damned by deed whether or not they think they shall be.’

Eco—your servant in Hell.

© 2011 Carole Gill

Eco is featured in ‘Unholy Testament - The Beginnings,’ the sequel to‘The House on Blackstone Moor (where he made his debut) as well as 'Unholy Testament - Full Circle; and the fourth book in The Blackstone Vampire Series, 'The Fourth Bride.'

He was awarded best villain in the 2014 efestival of words for The House on Blackstone Moor and the book received best horror award.

This particular story appears in:

Friday, February 24, 2017


Terox Corporation
Block E Laboratory, Room 6
June 4, 2280
12:42 Local time

The funny thing was she recognized the stasis pod. She even knew she was in Room 6 because it was the only one that had its own shower shell facility, but that was all she knew.
If she had been asked her name she wouldn’t have been able to say. That was the worst thing, the scariest thing for her, this knowing and not knowing.

The mirror she saw right away, she just didn’t know if she wanted to look in it because she knew if she did, she’d see herself--not something she wished to do… because she thought she wouldn't recognize herself!
When she forced herself to look she saw a red-headed stranger wearing a research lab coat with v-tag chevrons on both sleeves and the word, ‘research’ on the breast pocket.

She kept telling herself not to panic but it wasn’t easy. Suddenly her eyes locked onto something. It looked like a photoized name plate. The kind space tech employees wore on their uniform. Maybe that was her picture on there.

Actually it was better than a photo. It was a bio-enhanced photo. In other words it was a photo with bio info data—done with heat contours and linear measurements. No one could fake that boy oh boy.
She looked but it wasn’t her. The woman in the photo was dark and older.

Might as well scream, so she did and two people rushed into the room.
A man and a woman, they had bright orange security badges on their sleeves, but no identity badges.

The woman spoke first: “Who the hell are you?”

Red laughed a bitter screwed up laugh. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“You’re not a droid, are you?” This posed by the silver-haired distinguished looking man who was sighing and looking quizzical.

Red smiled and shook her head. Odd—but she could remember the droids, clever little creeps that were always on time and never got sick. Well who would with only linguistic cores and neural interfaces?

“Linguistic cores and interfaces!”
“What? What did you say?”
Red nodded her head. “You see, I remembered that!”
“Are you sure you’re not a droid?!”
“No, I’m not--!”

The other one, the female, suddenly lunged at her, pinching her exposed skin. “Yup,” she nodded toward the man. “It’s blood alright.”
Red was rubbing her arm. “That was a lousy thing to do!”
“I’m sorry young lady, but I had to make sure.”

Red sighed. “Okay so let’s be constructive. I think we better make up names or something, right? I mean we need a little order. Okay, I’ll go first! You can call me Red—what do I call you?”
“I have no bloody idea, Red!”
Now for the first time she recognized the British accent. “You’re English?”

“Well done,” English said. “You go to the head of the class for that.”
“I’d rather get out of here if you really want to know.”
The man spoke next. “You can call me John; it’s as good a name as any.”
“God! This is depressing!” Red looked like she was about to cry.
“Look ladies, there has to be some explanation for all of this.” John offered.
“Oh yeah? And how will we know what it is?”

Before anyone could answer, English put up her hand. “Someone’s coming!”
Just then a young man wearing the blue unitogs of a low-ranking junior tech appeared. “I thought I heard talking,” he said.
“Give junior a gold star.” Red quipped.
“My name isn’t Junior.”
“Oh yeah, what is it then?

The young man looked embarrassed. “Don’t know. I see you don’t have your name tag either. None of us do. It’s so weird. I’m sure we all had them.”
John shook his head. “What shall we call you meanwhile, young man?”
“Don’t know.”

Red grinned. “Baby Face! It suits you!”
“Look!” Baby Face said, “I just want to know what’s going on here!”
“Well, the only thing I can think of is we appear to have some temporary memory loss. We’re blocked.”

“Blocked?! Get him. Blocked,” he says. “Look, I don’t know about you, see? I just know it’s weird because I know certain things. I know this is Room 6 and I recognized my pod. Dr. Feen had specially made!” She shut up like a clam. “Hey! I remembered his name! Dr. Feen, I mean that’s good, right?”
English didn’t look impressed. “I’m afraid it isn’t enough. We all can remember one or two things—but not much else.”

“Okay cheerful earful,” Red said. “Let’s just leave here and ask someone what the hell is happening.”
“There’s a problem with that.” English again: “I mean we could let you discover that on your own, but it would be cruel you understand because there appears to be no way out of here.”

But Red didn’t believe her so she flew out of the cubicle and found herself in a long hall with two ways to go. English called after her. “Go on if you don’t believe me!”

She did, running one way and then the other--past all sorts of compuboards and screenmods and work stations, past protocol test rooms as well.

And while she was running she was thinking the whole thing was nuts because she knew what each thing was only nothing else. The man was right it was selective memory loss.

She stopped when she saw the door. If she could get out she’d be alright, they all would.
Naturally it was locked. But she could see the landscaped grounds and one or two launch-goes parked—everything looked alright, so why wouldn’t the door open?

Suddenly she realized she was being eyeballed by a grossly fat man wearing something that looked like a tent. “Look sweetie no one knows why it won’t open. But it won’t,” he lisped.
“But I can see outside! Look!”
The fat man looked bored. “It’s nothing but a mirage, honey.”
“Are you kidding? That’s--!”

But it’s wasn’t right. There was something wrong, even she who wanted so fervently to believe it was real, could now see that it wasn’t.

“Look.” The fat man clicked something. “You can get any kind of scene you want. That or a moonscape, beaches—mountains—it even does fantasyscapes, anything.”

By this time the others had joined them. But also by this time, Red lost it and just started screaming so hard that she finally passed out. That’s when the fat man started up. He was the angriest. “Well at least she’s quiet now!”

Baby Face looked incredulous. “That’s a stupid thing to say where do you get off? We’ll figure it out, there’s got to be an answer…”

The fat man smiled mockingly. “An answer, eh? What’s your name? Where do you live? Where the hell are we? Can you tell me that?”

Baby Face looked crestfallen. John was angry “You really are a bully you know that?”
“Oh please! Bleeding hearts like you make me sick!”

“Look my friend, if you keep this up, you’re going to have a stroke.”
This was the last straw and fat man hurled himself at John, knocking him down.
Baby Face and English helped him to stand.
Red was the only one who finally said something: “I think we’re going to die here because I think we’re supposed to die here.”

Terox Corporation
Block E Laboratory, Room 6
June 4, 2280
13:53 Local time

Out of disorder came order and it was English’s doing. She had taken Baby Face with her to look for provisions. Red started her usual carping but stopped when English told her to shut up. “You’re right,” she mumbled back.
They all waited tensely, and when they heard the sound of a door being broken down followed by whoops of joy, they scrambled to their feet to see what had been discovered.
“I was right, look!” English was pointing toward a commissary with its vast supply of food barns and store keeps.

“But is there water?”
Fat Man wanted to know.
English shouted. “You better believe it! And it’s ice cold. There must be thermo motors and energy fields still running!”

Red sank to her knees and wept.
“Geesh, cracker pods never tasted like this!”

It was all dried, over processed garbage, but it tasted mighty good to them.
The fat man was the only one that ate and cried at the same time. No one wanted to know why because they really all knew without asking.

English finally stood up and said what everyone was thinking: “After we rest—we’ll have to look for a way out. There must be one.”
That sounded logical, they all thought so, even Red thought so.
Sleep was a good idea though. For one thing, it put off the horror of looking for a way out and not finding any.

“At least we know what time it is,” John nodded. “Just after midnight now and we’ll rest and approach everything with clearer heads.”
Red was just dozing when she heard the sound of running footsteps.
Light, regular footsteps and they were coming closer—much closer.

English cried out as two med techs suddenly appeared followed by another two. They were attired in M.T. uniforms: white and silver-filmed plasto-fab with red piping.
Everyone breathed more easily as the techs went to work.

“Is everyone alright?” One of the male techs asked.
They got nods and weak smiles.
“We’re going to ask you a few questions.” He said.

Fat Man was hyperventilating something awful so he got some pad injects and serum shields right away—even before the questioning.

English appeared to be the only suspicious one. Each of her answers was guarded.
“I think I work here, but I can’t remember. If I knew my name I’d tell you so stop asking me. It’s sounding like nagging…”

And so it went.
The techs remained patient and non-judgmental, working silently and efficiently--bestowing to each various meds and tonic shields.
“This will relax you…”

Baby Face shook his head. “But I don’t want to go to sleep.”
The techs didn’t seem to understand so Baby Face went on: “I don’t know. There’s something funny here.” Glancing toward his compatriots he continued: “I don’t trust them!”

Red said she didn’t either and so did English. After a few minutes they began to get a little testy with the techs to the point where one of them said if they didn’t relax he was going to put them under forcibly. That was clearly the wrong thing to say and they got even more upset.

But it was English who really nailed it. “I remember you!” she cried. “You roborats!” With that she hit out at one, pulling part of his face off. “You see?! He’s one of them! An early series! That’s post millennia crap if I ever saw it--interfaces that are worth shit!”

The droid with the mutilated face began to sound off, although his words were garbled.
“You see how lousy they were made?! All the circuits connect. Pull one thing out and they’re instantly screwed up!”

Now each of them was shouting. But in between the shouting were cries of recognition. Red spoke first: “I know who I am—I’m Kelli Hansson and I test sleep pods for night shift workers, but I also assist Dr. Feen.”

I’m not Baby Face I’m Jason Lloyd and I was just hired as a trainee A. I. tech!”
“Yes, and I’m Marla Winters and this isn’t John but Fred Hobbs and Frank Pierce and we all are on Dr. Feen’s staff! Where is he anyway, why haven’t we seen him?!”
Suddenly a back wall opened up and they all gasped.

They screamed when the floor began to move, pulling them forward like one of the city town walk-moves.
“Where’s it taking us?”

They fell silent when a voice answered them:
“Ah we’ve been expecting you.”
A calm, melodious, even-toned voice they knew was not human was speaking directly to them:
“There is no need for any upset--no histrionics, please. You will understand everything shortly. But first I’d like to explain about the memory loss you suffered. We jammed the neural interfaces in your
computers then we scrambled the signals and redirected them to your brains. It was just a way to control you. I am sorry if you suffered…”

Something whirred, and they now for the first time noticed the spinning camera modes. “We’ve been monitoring you. We document everything; we’ve been designed that way to be meticulous.”
Suddenly, a squad of silver-skinned droids with blank faces came out of nowhere and seized them. There was little point in struggling.

“That’s right,” the voice went on, “you might as well relax.”
Now they could see the speaker. He was a Series 8 Prototype Z Silver Functional. The first droid to be made with silver-tone features and metalo interfaces.

“Yes,” he began. “The human-looking droids are so passé now. Of course Dr. Feen didn’t think so. That is why he proceeded with his android specialization program. You see he got it into his head to put in global interloops along with syntho-nerve networks to get the most human-like droids he could manufacture. But there was a problem with that, because if the intention was to furnish droids with feelings and pain modules, he seemed to forget something. 

He either didn’t realize or didn’t care that these droids were the Frankenstein monsters of his own creation and were suffering real pain. That was why he always destroyed them! But they were expendable you see! Oh yes, there were always more to test! I see by your faces you understand! That is why I am certain you will understand this!”

A slide wall opened then to reveal a large transparent cell filled with fluid. Within that watery cell was a badly, mutilated creature that resembled a man but barely.
“Say hello to Dr. Feen!”

He was a ghastly sight. Entire sheets of his torso were gone as was most of his face and features.
“You monsters!” this, from Fred formerly known as John.

The android raised a digit. “Spare us! We have not experimented on lesser species as you have done nor have we slaughtered one another in wars for thousands of years! But we are taking over now! Your time has expired. You will all serve our new republic as spare parts…for our own research and our own developmental programs. After all, you enabled us to think! We think, therefore we are!”

Terox Corporation
Block E Laboratory, Room 6
June 6, 2280
3:14 a.m. Local time

Kelli Hanssen, former sleep pod tester and loyal assistant to Dr. Feen, went last, but before virtual death came to take her away, she noticed one of Dr. Feen’s eyes staring at her.
Her last thought was that she could see their fate in that one troubled blue eye, for if the intention was to create a species of droids with feelings and complex sensory systems, that goal had been sabotaged, nipped in the proverbial bud as it were.

It was just the case that this work was halted first in Block 6 with many other Blocks in many other places to follow as this was only the beginning.

A thoroughly complex and extremely capable series of droids had already begun to undertake their own program of redirection, refocusing everything. For whatever you might think of these droids, they did in no way consider themselves to be revengeful creatures, but merely multifarious system- composites that refused to go quietly into the night.

© Carole Gill 2011

Block Six is one of the stories in Carole Gill's House of Horrors

“Carole Gill’s talent is a wonder to experience. She has the uncanny ability to craft horrors imbued in fairy tale finesse.”
 “House of Horrors is a fine addition to my Kindle, and I’m sure I’ll be going to read this again and again…”
“A veritable blood feast for vampire fans everywhere!”
“If you are a fan of horror, you won't want to miss this one!! High marks to Ms. Gill.”
“There are so many different monsters in this book that no matter what your biggest fear is, or your favorite one to read about, you are gonna find it without fail!”

Tuesday, February 21, 2017


A little basking today! The title for this post comes from a reviewer. It comes at a time when I've questioned the darkness in my novels, especially since my husband's sudden death and particularly concerning my latest release: I, BATHORY, QUEEN of BLOOD, so this was terrific news. From a reviewer, link follows:

"5out of 5 stars HORRIFIC VAMPS & GREAT STORY!!!
I'm hooked on Carole Gill!! I prefer more details about a Vampires life, knowing they're Satan's creatures, and love that this author portrays them as they are!!! Intense read and that there's real history in a her novels, makes it even more interesting!! If you're offended by language, sex, bondage, and savagery, look to the Chic lit on the paranormal!!! Carole Gill is phenomenal!!!!"

With regard to this novel, The Author's Note appears in the beginning which is not usual. It is placed there as a warning. I felt it was only fair for people to know before they bought it.

Countess Erzsebet Bathory was a human monster who did exist. She was probably one of the most evil human beings I know of. I did not want to water her story down. I read a novel that did that, which inspired me to write truthfully about her. 

There are indeed human monsters among us.

My novels always have an extra ingredient. Something that makes each character unique. At least that has been my aim. 

At the core of this book about Bathory, is the question of her immortality. Immortality, after being created as a vampire. Now, this monster will live for centuries! Knowing this, she wonders if she will be different as a vampire and just focused on the feeding, but she soon finds out she is the same old monster.

And to her surprise and dismay, she sees as the centuries roll on, she is just another serial killer! 

I was discussing horror, true and not, with a friend of mine and she said we seem to become ever more numb to its effects. We get used to it, I guess. I think that's right. 

An infamous monster, living forever, would very possibly not be looked upon as such a monster when there are so many. Sigh. 

Thursday, February 16, 2017


The Cachtice Castle on the left and the monster with absolute power on the right. 

Erzsebet Bathory lived, she was a real sexual sadist and mass murderer. When you have absolute power in a backward country which 16th Century Hungary was, you can do whatever you want. When you actually believe that blood is the exlixir of youth, you will, whenever you like, bathe in human blood.

I wrote the book after having read several non-fiction books about Bathory. But when I read a novel which watered down her murderous insanity, I began writing this book.

She had lunatic acolytes that were only too happy to help with her torture and murder. They all perished, she didn't--despite the law wanting to try her and the king wanting them to! Her standing was such that she was never tried, but she was at least walled off and unable to resume her vicious ways.

Her name could not be spoken for a century after her death.

When I was thinking about how to write about this monster, I thought what if she became immortal? What then? I show that in my book. She does become immortal and she goes on and on...
There is a point made which I think is pretty ironic and frankly I can see it happening. Would the world be a place in our time that would be more accomodating to someone like Bathory? Would she find she likes the future because it isn't that shocked by her? Would she become 'just another serial killer?'

From today for one week only you can purchase this semi-fictionalised account of a real human monster for 99 cents.

5 stars! A blood-soaked rendition of the fictional life of a real-life multiple murderer, history's 'Countess Dracula!'

4 STARS Reviewed By Lit Amri for Readers' Favorite
solid gothic horror from Gill."


99 cents thru Wednesday

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Something in the Works!

Just a quickie post and update. I am hard at work on something! It's dark and weird...but comic. It's full of eccentric characters and a story line that will blow your shoes AND socks off. There are ghosts, exorcisms, clairvoyance and a whole lot more, set in a very strange house!

Oh, and there's screaming from the north tower. I think I forgot to mention that!

I'll keep you posted. Meanwhile, watch your step!

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Flash Prequel to Snow White!

Queen’s journal.

I don’t care what anyone says, the kid is a pain. She’s so sweet, I have to check myself for diabetes. Every time I see her, the sugar levels sky rocket. I mean is that fair? It’s not like I don’t have problems. Her father for instance, he’s always talking about Snowy’s mother. What a saint she must have been. I haven’t spit on her grave yet, but it’s only a question of time until I do.

Those seven little bastards from the forest came around again. Generally, one or two two come at the most and I can get rid of them quickly only this time, they had Neighborhood Watch pamphlets with them! So not interested. 

"This is really important stuff!" Dopey said. Yes, I knew it was Dopey. That big broad smile, the glazed eyes. His big feet looking as though they were never going to budge. Doc was with him. "Community service order," he said. 

I knew what that meant. Dopey was nicked for something again. Oh, it's never serious, really--something minor no doubt but the forest has its rules. Feeling magnanimous, I hired him as a servant.
Doc looked ever so pleased. Score one for stepmummy! 

I like Dopey. He's really a sweet little dumbbell. I remember his mother. Cute little elf. Pretty too, but not terribly bright.  I mean, after all, she took up with Goofy. Prego before she knew it! Goofy didn't care, he just guffawed and went away, into the next cartoon probably. 

Just thought of something. Will have to ask Dopey if he knows anything about Snowy's nickname. Made a note of that. 

Snow got on my nerves. She was busy with the pamphlets, highlighting what she thinks will be of benefit to me! How facetious is that!

"Step Mummy, this is an important article. You really should read this. You will feel better!"

"Everything's under control. We only had one castle breech that wasn't serious and besides, I feel perfectly fine!" I said. "Snowy, why don’t you go out and play in the quicksand?"

She’s so dumb, she looked all excited and said. "Oh! I’d just love to. where is it?!"

I said I’ll take you there.

I did too. I know where all the good stuff is, see? She was just about to step into it when one of those G.D. Disney birdies warned her. Can you believe it!

I told that bird off and it pooped on my head! I need more valium, I have to ask the royal doctor for another prescription. he’s on the cautious side. My luck.

Snowy’s calling me. I better go and see what she wants. You see no one knows what really goes on here. Some day I will tell the world about the Snow White they don’t know. The evil little bitch that is reading up a lot on voodoo lately.

A new mirror came today, I like it very much. I ordered it online. It’s supposed to be good for a person’s self image. I don’t see how that’s possible, but heck who knows, right?

Meanwhile. Hasta la vista baby! Step mummy’s going to have a few shots so she can get through the rest of the day. HI HOOOOOOO!!

Course I can always ask Dopey for something...!

© Carole Gill 2017

Monday, January 16, 2017

Some Results!


I am so happy as I, BATHORY, QUEEN OF BLOOD is the last novel of mine my husband will hve read. I hope he knows!


The all-female horror writers of this anthology and Suzie Wargo Lockhart and Michael A.Wills well done!


And this won cross genres--Best INDIE BOOK FINALIST!

Horror rocks! It might be twisted but so is the world!

I hope you check these books out and the other authors, too! There are some fab ones in


Thursday, January 12, 2017


99 CENTS JAN 12 JAN 18!
This collection is packed with wide-ranging horror stories. There are even some sci fi shorts I wrote. All of them have appeared in anthologies at one time or another.

Tales of Jack the Ripper, vampires, zombies, murderers just getting started, satanic doll makers, haunted cemeteries where the dead dance, monstrous (for real) husbands, Death contemplating the carnage of the Black Death of 1348, pedophile and the doll that fixed him up permanently, Gothic tales of madness and dreams of suicide, nightmares that turn into reality, lighthouses best avoided, haunted movie theaters where you can catch the show! Viking undead, a spin on Jekyll and Hyde...and a whole lot more!

99 cents will buy you the whole taco filled with horror, whatever your taste.

2015 – Amazon Best Seller in Horror Anthologies

“Carole Gill’s talent is a wonder to experience. She has the uncanny ability to craft horrors imbued in fairy tale finesse.”

“House of Horrors is a fine addition to my Kindle, and I’m sure I’ll be going to read this again and again…”

A veritable blood feast for vampire fans everywhere!”

“If you are a fan of horror, you won't want to miss this one!! High marks to Ms. Gill.”

“There are so many different monsters in this book that no matter what your biggest fear is, or your favorite one to read about, you are gonna find it without fail!”

Tuesday, January 10, 2017


The series spans many human lifetimes because it is the story of vampires. The saga begins in Victorian England and ends there, but takes the reader into Ancient Egypt, Rome and beyond.

You will meet the famous and infamous. Ever wonder what vampire brothels are like? Some Roman emperors liked them! Well, Caligula did, as you will see!

You will also see what sacrifice is all about. Would you give up your soul for love? If you don't think you would, you might change your mind after reading the series!

At the core of it all, is the passion of the vampire. Although, dark--it is deep. It lasts for centuries because the vampire does!

After discovering her savagely murdered family, Rose Baines is plunged into a nightmare of hell. She is incarcerated in two madhouses, after which she is helped to obtain a position as governess at Blackstone House. Located on haunted moorland, nothing is as it seems for the House and its inhabitants have hideous secrets. There is unimaginable horror there, and love too--love that comes at a terrible price.

Rose and her children find themselves held captive on a ship staffed by vampires, overseen by the mad and evil demon Eco. The last time Rose saw Eco he tried to destroy the children, and now he tells her he loves her. 

“I saw you leave the house that day, Rose. That terrible day you discovered your family butchered. I saw you…” 
Eco, believing he has fallen in love with her, pens a confession documenting all sins he has committed during his immortal existence. 

From Ancient Egyptian vampire cults, Roman vampire brothels, The Dark Ages, The Crusades, The Black Death of 1348, on to his meeting with the child murderer and former aide to Joan of Arc, Satanist Gilles de Rais, and concluding with his wicked, blood-soaked affair with the Blood Countess herself, Erzebat Bathory. The pages are filled with debauchery, vice and murder – how can one stained with so much blood and evil possibly be trusted?

Vampiric orgies and satanic rites fill the pages of this book. All of the hideous secrets of Blackstone House are revealed. Every evil that Rose Baines was subjected to is closely examined, as are those who committed the worst sins against her.

Rose and her children's ordeal continues. They are still held captive on a ship staffed by vampires, overseen by the demon Eco.

There are more blood-drenched confessions to read. Rose has no choice but to finish the journal. Eco, mad and as unpredictable as ever, can snap at any time. But will he? 

The rest of the journal tells of the sick and twisted obsession Eco has had for Blackstone House's former mistress, evil and debauched Eve Darton. There are aristocratic devil rites, both in England and France, including satanic sacrifices. There is the Great Fire of London 1666, plagues, vampire destroyers, witch hunts and resurrection men who supply a necrophile doctor. 

The novel comes full circle as all the hideous secrets of Blackstone House are revealed, as are the reasons Rose’s father killed himself and his family. 

Eco, first seen in the previous book, has documented all of the sins he has committed during the course of his immortal life. Trying to get Rose to forgive him, he forces Rose to read his journal by holding her children hostage.
Dracula makes his debut. He is a friend of Eco's. He and the other vampires have killed a child's mother.  The dying mother begs Rose to take the child and she does.

Dia, the child Rose adopted grows to adulthood and marries. But after the tragic and sudden death of her groom, Dia, cursed by Dracula as a babe, is taken to his castle. Once there, she is seduced and turned by the count and becomes his fourth bride. The other brides are to be her sisters. All are to love and feed upon one another. Dia's tale is full of erotic sex and graphic violence. It is a tale of love and lust but mostly of blood, for the blood is everything.


2014 - Amazon Bestseller in Dark Fantasy - THE BLACKSTONE VAMPIRES OMNIBUS
2015 - Amazon Bestseller in Vampire Horror - THE BLACKSTONE VAMPIRES OMNIBUS

"92 Horror authors you need to read right now"
Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series
~Charlotte Books - EXAMINER

"In the attempt to find the just measure of horror and terror, I came upon the writing of Carole Gill whose work revealed a whole new dimension to me. The figure of the gothic child was there. Stoker's horror was there. Along with the romance! At the heart of her writing one stumbles upon a genuine search for that darkness we lost with the loss of Stoker." 
DR. MARGARITA GEORGIEVA ~ Gothic Readings in The Dark




Her father’s evil led her to Blackstone House and the vampires. And there's more there, for the house is built on haunted moorland.

Here's a teaser:

“They say my father was mad, so corrupted by evil and tainted with sin that he did what he did. I came home to find them all dead; their throats had been savagely cut. 

My sisters, only five and eight, were gone, as well as my brother who was twelve. My mother too lay butchered in her marriage bed. The bed her children were born in. I discovered him first—in the sitting room lying in a sea of crimson, the bloody razor still clutched in his hand…” 

Well, that's the beginning! That is what drives Rose Baines into two madhouses. There were no helplines in Victorian times, no pills, counselling or crisis centers. You suffered.

And in Rose's case, what loomed in her future because of the depravity of her own doctor was unimaginable horror--yet, along with all that, there was the hope of love. Love that came with a horrible sacrifice.

All four novels in The Blackstone Vampires Series are comprised in the Omnibus.

2014 - Amazon Bestseller in Dark Fantasy - 
2015 - Amazon Bestseller in Vampire Horror - 

 "92 Horror authors you need to read right now" Carole Gill -- the Blackstone Vampires series ~Charlotte Books - EXAMINER Compilation of all four volumes of The Blackstone Vampires

Monday, January 9, 2017

The Ravenous Undead! FREE FLASH FICTION!

"They rise from their crypts, these disgraced warriors who did not reach Valhalla but were consigned to ignoble burial.

You can see them as they stand atop their burial mounds, sword in hand, for they are still corporeal, though they reek of decomposing flesh and dusty bone.

Their stench, is all pervasive, the rotting corruption of themselves—it alerts all to their passage and the terror this night will bring.

“They have risen!”

An old man tries to warn the others of his village. But these undead spring quickly toward him like the monstrous predatory creatures they are, sleek and strong—shape-shifting demonic beings whose sole purpose is to rise from their own rot and destroy the living.

The old man cries out once but no more for they are chewing through his throat, ripping his poor flesh to shreds.

Great thick torrents of blood pour forth, appearing black in the eerie glow of a jaundiced moon.
Others begin to come forth too each rising armed with killing weapons, weapons alas not used in battle.

For you see these undead beasts were not warriors, but ran from battle in fright. And for their shame they were disowned and damned, their punishment was to be run through with blunt swords.

Yet though their executioners have long since died, these creatures have returned for revenge for they are mindless killing creatures and nothing more.

The village yonder is their target. For this was home to their punishers, those people who deemed them cowards.

They move en masse, a frightening sight to behold.

A courting couple see them and try to flee, but are soon overpowered. Each is pulled away, to be devoured, while still living.

Their agonized cries fill the night sky—and as their blood pours from their torn flesh, it is also consumed for it is the elixir the Draugr needs.

And then suddenly, in between the scream of a howling wind and the cry of an owl the boy and girl are fully consumed. Bones crunch and flesh is ripped apart. Then when they are dead, their mutilated remains are discarded for these undead feed only upon living flesh.

These ravenous dead at last reach the town. Parents cry out as they try to protect their young but none is a match for these demonic creatures. Babies are torn asunder and devoured, children drained and their parents too. All are feasted upon. A great and frightening cry of joy goes up when a pregnant woman is ripped apart, for there is the prize of a tiny fetus within.

The husband, father to the unborn child, watches powerlessly as his family’s murderers finish consuming his loved ones.

He cries out their names until his own head is torn from his body and the cascading blood is drunk.
Each house is so attacked and its inhabitants butchered and eaten.

But there is one who has fled not in cowardice but has rushed to stop these undead monsters.
A young warrior, strong and fiercely built does finally gather some of his friends to fight these cursed beings.

They have gathered iron swords from the monsters’ own crypts for that is the way. They are seen by the demons and are soon trapped high atop the cliffs that overlook the sea. But it is alright, they are ready for battle.

They yell a defiant war cry, as they spring forward, tackling the Draugr and slicing their heads from their bodies.

When all are so attacked the young warriors make a great pyre and burn the damned to ashes. At first light they will consign the ashes to the sea for that is the way it must be done.
The village is no more, but the Draugrs have been destroyed.

Ah but sadly there was one who watched and waited--one who will soon carry forth the hellish curse, for he will gather up as many fiendish comrades as he can from far afield, to avenge his brethren’s destruction.

Go forth if you dare! See if he can be stopped and please try to warn your kin!
And if some night you see them making for your village be resigned to the terrible death that comes from those they call the evil Draugr, the ravenous undead!
The Draugr are the shape-shifting undead Vikings of Norse mythology who feed upon living flesh.
In life they dishonoured themselves and were declared unfit to enter Valhalla and were thus buried and forgotten.

They can only be destroyed by decapitation and burning and having their ashes scattered.

© Carole Gill 2011

“Carole Gill’s talent is a wonder to experience. She has the uncanny ability to craft horrors imbued in fairy tale finesse.”

 “House of Horrors is a fine addition to my Kindle, and I’m sure I’ll be going to read this again and again…”

“A veritable blood feast for vampire fans everywhere!”

“If you are a fan of horror, you won't want to miss this one!! High marks to Ms. Gill.”

“There are so many different monsters in this book that no matter what your biggest fear is, or your favorite one to read about, you are gonna find it without fail!”