**If you’re here for my Crazy Writing Goals post, please click this. I posted a week early – doh! I’m not Celebrating this week because I’ve had a lot of posts to do lately and don’t want to swamp my blog. I’ll be back next week, though. 🙂
Hello, folks. Today I have something a little different.
Author, Joshua Skye has just released a horror novel with Siren’s Call Publications. For this publicity tour, he wrote a series of letters between himself and a trusted confidant about his new book, entitled Cradle.
And hey, I’m one of the lucky ones who get to participate. 🙂
I’ve been given letter #2 and we’re hoping that anyone who happens upon these letters will visit all 5 sites to read the conversation in its entirety. I’ve posted the links for the other letters, below the following letter, which will direct you to the other (letters) sites involved.
*Letter #1 can be found at ArmandRosamilia.com posted October 26th
The Cornelius Correspondence: The Cradle Book Tour: Letter #2 of 5
One was thrilled to receive your letter so quickly, and indeed it found one among the most dreadful of spirits. One can’t complain, one supposes. The company one deserves is the company one keeps, or so they say. Have you ever wondered exactly who the proverbial they actually are? Spinsters with clowders of cats and curmudgeon with more empty bottles of booze than friends and family, bitter and resentful recluses judging everyone around them based on the ideas permeating the old books they drool over that take place in ages past and better left forgotten. Be all that as it may, one hopes you are in equally delightful company, though one is sure you are and such a salutation is all for naught.
Your relationship with the dark is fascinating, as fascinating now as it was on the evening we sipped that soft berry infused cedar of the ruby Pontensac Medoc, the smoky plum and leather as haunting as your words uttered before the fire. Its correlations with your latest tome, its characters and plotline, are equally as enthralling. It was a morbidly glorious read, it must be said, an account of broken beings swept into the most bizarre of situations. Like its predecessor, The Angels of Autumn, Cradle weaves a disturbing spell. Radley and Scotty are vividly drawn, and it comes as no surprise that there’s a little of you in each of them. What exactly is best left a mystery, so please do not compromise my intrigue by divulging specific details.
Likewise, one wants to keep the ambiguity of the correlation between your life and the storyline fixed, so again no blunt revelations there either would be greatly appreciated. Hint away though, old friend. One loves to be teased, but doesn’t everyone? The darkness is never more enticing than when it tickles and nothing more. One does know that Angels has more than a passing resemblance to your real life, as well. Shockingly so. In fact, it might actually terrify your readers (not to mention your family) were the truth come brusquely into the light. One promises not to tell. Secrets are one’s specialty. Well, one among many.
One quite likes the idea of a memoir of the madness that drives you when you write. Do not consider it, do it. The darkness and all its minions dare you.
Find the rest of this conversation at the following links:
October 28th – Letter #3 – The Sirens Song
October 29th – Letter #4 – The Road to Nowhere
October 30th – Letter #5 – An Opener’s Closing
In the deepest vale of Crepuscule’s Cradle, in the cul-de-sac at the end of Direful Hollow Road, is a once grand Folk-Victorian home known as The Habersham House. It’s a place haunted by far more than rot and neglect – evil dwells here, an evil that craves children.
Eight-year-old Scott Michaels-Greene has a fascination for tales of the strange and unusual, especially local folklore. His favorite story is the one about Habersham House; a ruined old place where many curious children have disappeared.
Hours away from Crepuscule’s Cradle, in Philadelphia, author Radley Barrette has just lost the love of his life to a random act of violence. Amongst his endowments from Danny’s estate is an old house in the backwoods of Pennsylvania, Habersham House. Though grief stricken at leaving behind the only home he and Danny had ever known, he knows he cannot remain in the city. Besides, the isolation may be just what he needs to clear his mind of the writer’s block he’s suffering from.
Crepuscule’s Cradle is not as he imagined. The locals are inhospitable. The skeletal forest surrounding it is as unwelcoming as the town. And the house itself – there is something menacing, something angry inhabiting it with him, and it’s hungry. Radley’s world slowly begins to unravel; the fringes of his reality begin to fray. In the midst of his breakdown, a local boy with an unhealthy fascination for Habersham House begins sneaking around and the evil residing within has taken notice.
Blending fantasy with horror, Crepuscule’s Cradle is the darkest of fairy tales. The morbidity of classic folklore and contemporary style weaves a web of slowly encroaching unease. Radley Barrette’ winter bound home is more than a haunted house, and Crepuscule’s Cradle is more than a mere horror tale. It’s a bedtime story that will pull you into its icy embrace, lull you into a disquiet state, and leave you shivering in the dark.[asg-button color=”yellow” link=”http://mybook.to/Cradle” newwindow=”true”]AMAZON KINDLE (International) [/asg-button]