Venia is a very cool Croatian e-zine devoted to alternative music, pop culture, literature and movies. The magazine is also a part of the team behind the Croatian fansite for my favorite vampire/goth band, The 69 Eyes, (http://www.the69-eyes.com/), and when I got an email from the editor last month, asking if I'd consent to an email interview about my writing, I was only to happy to oblige!

*WARNING* The English translation leaves a bit to be desired - it's a bit choppy, but you can get the gist!

Take a look at their very cool site (here's the English version) http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/intro.html , read my interview at http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/column/storyof-terrigarey-interview2009.html, read a great review of DEAD GIRLS ARE EASY at http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/column/storyof-terrigarey-deadgirlsareeasy.html, or enter the contest to win a signed copy at http://www.venia-mag.net/eng/other/competition.html.

However, if you're like me, you might find it cooler just to read the Croatian versions at:

Venia-Mag: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/intro.html

Interview: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/kolumna/kultura-intervju-terrigarey.html

Review: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/kolumna/kultura-knjizevnost-deadgirlsareeasy.html

Contest: http://www.venia-mag.net/hrv/ostalo/nagradna.html

The 69 Eyes will be playing in Zagreb (Croatia) on January 24th, 2010. I'd love nothing more than to be there, but I will just have to be satisfied with some dark kisses from Croatia in the meantime.

Rock on, ghoulfriends, and THANKS, Venia-Mag!

Incubus Rising
by Terri Garey^©

She was an alabaster dream. Pale hair, pale as moonbeams, lay across the snow-white pillowcase. Her cheeks held just the faintest shade of pink, lips holding the cherry sheen of rosebuds I’d long since forgotten. Her dream was full of softness, and the openness of longing. Whoever she longed for was a lucky man. But this night, I was luckier, for I slid into her welcoming warmth with the ease of a practiced lover, and the joy of a man who’d found his reason for existence.

In my never-ending quest to rule the blog guesting world,  I just did an interview for Natasha over on Wicked Little Pixie's urban fantasy and paranormal review site, "Writings of a Wicked Book Addict".

Stop by and leave her a comment for a chance to win her contest, and get "a reader's choice" of books from my backlist!

Stop by and visit with me today as I chat with Sue Grimshaw, corporate executive and Romance Buyer for Borders, Inc., on her blog, "Borders True Romance". We'll be talking about my latest release Silent Night, Haunted Night and I'll be giving away three copies of the book (along with a sparkly Christmas snowflake ornament) to three lucky commenters!

Here's to my readers! Thanks so much for buying my books, and reading my stories. I got the great news the other day that less than two weeks after it's initial release, Silent Night, Haunted Night has already gone into a second printing! That would never have happened unless supply exceeded demand, which means a lot of books were sold fairly quickly. Thank you so much!
 

I found these recipes on the web, and they totally tickled my funny bone! Perfect for a Halloween party, and oh-so-easy to make:

STRAINED EYE BALLS

Ingredients:

6 eggs
6 oz. whipped cream cheese
7 oz. green olives with pimientos
Red food coloring

Place the eggs in a saucepan and cover them with cold water. Cook over high heat until the water begins to boil. Then turn the heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes. Place the cooked eggs in cold water. When they are cool enough to touch, crack the eggshells all over by rolling them on a hard surface. Peel away the shells carefully and cut the eggs in half widthwise. Remove the yolks and fill the holes with cream cheese. Press an olive into each cream cheese eyeball, pimiento facing up, for an eerie green iris and startling red pupil! For a final touch, dip the tip of a toothpick in red food coloring and draw broken blood vessels in the cream cheese (I mean, why WOULDN'T you draw the broken blood vessels?)


BOOGERS ON A STICK

8 oz. jar of Cheez Whiz
Green food coloring
25 to 30 pretzel sticks

Melt the Cheez Whiz in the microwave or on top of the stove. Allow the cheese to cool slightly, then stir in about three drops of green food coloring, using just enough to turn the cheese a lovely shade of "booger green". Dip and twist the tip of each pretzel stick into the cheese, lift out, wait 20 seconds, then dip again, repeat if you want to. When your cheese lumps reach an appropriately boogerish size, set the pretzels down on waxed paper. Allow to cool at room temperative for ten minutes, or until firm. Gently pull off the waxed paper, and arrange on a serving platter (hopefully, one that looks like a nose!).

It's book release day! It's book release day! Squeeee!!

Ahem. Ok, got that out of my system. 

My fourth spooky novel is now in bookstores, just in time for Halloween! Squeee!!

(Ok, so maybe I didn't quite get it all out yet. )

In fact, maybe I never will get over the fact that I, the girl who grew up with her head in a book, now writes books for other people to enjoy. That's why I wanted to become a writer, you know - to give back some of the joy and pleasure and downright escapism that books have always given to me.
 
I've always been an avid reader - still am - in large part because no matter how bad things get, I can always pick up a book and be temporarily transported somewhere else. To me, a good book should be like a movie in your head, except far better, because with books, your imagination allows you to to make the characters and the settings appear exactly as you want them to - no need to worry about bad casting or bad acting, because you - the reader - are the director.

So far, one of my favorite things about being a writer is being able to create memorable characters: Nicki Styx, Joe Bascombe, Sammy Divine, Bijou, Caprice, Spider, and the various restless spirits that populate all my novels. They're not real, but they feel real to me, and I try to make them real for the reader, too. (It's called "suspension of disbelief", which is a fancy, opposite-speak way of just saying "believable".)

I think I need a little suspension of disbelief myself today, because I just can't believe that my childhood dream has come true again, for the fourth time.

Did I mention that Silent Night, Haunted Night is in bookstores today? Squeeee!!! 

Any creative writers out there? Here's a fun exercise I like to do to spark a little creativity: find a picture (any picture), and write a quick short story to go along with it. Don't overthink it, don't agonize over it, just do it! Here's a old picture of someone's living room, which I'm about to turn into a ghost story:

The Haunted Corner

Opal Myers sat in her favorite chair, right by the window, where she could watch the world go by without ever leaving the plush comfort of her home. While others stood in bread lines and whined about lack of work, Opal had merely to ring a small bell and food would be brought to her on a tray. Another ring, and the tray would be taken away, the crumbs no doubt eaten by a sneaky servant girl before they reached the kitchen.
 
Opal didn't care. Let them eat cake. Depression, indeed. The poor deserved their fate... they either hadn't the guts to work hard, or they hadn't the wits to marry money. She'd done both.

"Wow, honey... look at this place." A man's voice disturbed Opal's privacy, but she didn't look away from the window. The man would be gone soon enough. "Still looks like it did in 40's."

"The 30's, actually." A woman's voice answered him, a voice that Opal found vaguely familiar. Familiar enough to ignore. "We at Hampton House take great pride in keeping the house just the way it looked when the murder occurred. Opal Myers was killed right there, in that chair."

"Ew... how creepy." Another woman's voice, different from the first. "By her own son? That's what the brochure said."

"It was never proven who did it, but the son was the number one suspect. He disappeared right after the murder and was never seen again."

Opal settled herself more deeply into the chair and smiled a chilly smile. Her son would come home eventually, and when he did, she'd be waiting.