Halfway to Halloween Expo

 

I'll be at the Halfway to Halloween Expo

Saturday May 10

11 am to 6 pm


Washtenaw Farm Council Grounds

5055 Ann Arbor-Saline Rd 

Ann Arbor, MI 48103


Over 170 Unique Vendors: 

Explore a wide variety of vendors offering everything from decorations, costumes, masks, and prosthetics to handmade crafts, props, wet specimens, oddities, home decor, jewelry, clothing, baked goods, books, and so much more. It’s the perfect opportunity to find truly one-of-a-kind items!

Collaborative Haunted Walkthrough: 

Experience a spine-chilling haunted walkthrough created by the talented teams from The Scream Machine, Erebus Haunted Attraction, Nightmare Realm Haunted Attractions, Haunting In The Hills, Deranged Haunt, St. Charles Haunted House, and Nightmares from Hell haunted attraction. Get ready for plenty of screams and scares, giving you a taste of what awaits during the haunting season!

Hearse Car Show: 

Enjoy a showcase of unique hearses on display.

Charity Raffle: 

Participate in our charity raffle for a chance to win exciting prizes.  All proceeds will benefit Washtenaw Farm Council Grounds.

Live Performances: 

Enjoy captivating live entertainment throughout the day.

Costume Contest: 

This is a fantastic opportunity to show off your creativity! Categories include:

- Most Original

- Best Overall

- Scariest

- Best Movie Inspired

- Best Group (2 or more)

Kids' Costume Contest (ages 12 and under): Categories include:

- Funniest

- Scariest

- Cutest

- Most Original

Food Trucks: 

Savor delicious offerings from 13 different food trucks, including:

- Schultz Concessions.LLC

- Twisted Sugar Bubble Bar

- Quick Bites LLC

- DSR BBQ

- The Food Bandit

- The Grilled Wrap

- Double B’z Freeze &Tea’z

- Little Caesars Pizza Truck

- 734 And More Food Truck

- Funk It Up Fries

- Fuller Farms Mini Donuts

- Shawarma Chef

- Professor Butturbeer

Networking Opportunities: 

Connect with fellow Halloween enthusiasts, makeup artists, and creators in the community.

Community Atmosphere: 

Celebrate Halfway to Halloween in a lively environment where fans can come together to share their passions.

Tickets: 

Just $5 in advance and $10 at the door grants you access to all the excitement, including the haunted walkthrough! Plus, children aged 12 and under are free!

Purchase tickets here:

 https://app.hauntpay.com/events/halfway-to-halloween-expo-1/event_times/1531455

Release Day Blitz Dark Shadow of Guilt by TM Smith #Romantasy #PNR #Fantasy


Dark Shadow of Guilt
Winged Assassin Series
Book One
TM Smith

Genre: Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Date of Publication: April 18, 2025
ISBN: 978-0-3695-1163-8
ASIN: B0F2XZZ55K
Number of pages: 377
Word Count: 96,146
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Book Description:  

Dominion, a guilt-ridden Immortal who is the black-winged assassin of the OneCreator, rescues Madeline, a mortal who has been thrust into a world she never existed knew. Kidnapped, she was brought to Angor in OneWorld and tortured. As her path intertwines with Dom’s, she grapples with her evolution and newfound gifts. 

Theirs is a tale of doubt and forgiveness, forbidden love, sacrifice, and conflict that threatens the existence of OneWorld. 

Packed with puzzling occurrences and twists and turns, this is a story that will mesmerize readers from start to finish. Amidst chaos in OneWorld, their love is put to the ultimate test against looming threats that threaten the fabric of existence.

Amazon       Apple      Smashwords      BN      Goodreads      Books2Read

Excerpt:

 

Madeline dragged a fork through her potatoes, eventually shoving a bite into her mouth. When she finished chewing, she broke off a piece of crisp bacon and popped it in, licking her lips. “I was thinking about going home, but when you came into the kitchen, I realized how much help you need around here. You probably don’t pay enough attention to yourself. Like eating regularly. Your laundry. Cleaning house. I could organize stuff. Take care of your place.” She winked again. “And you.”

She tilted her chin, a strand of hair feathering across her cheek as she slipped him an irresistible smile. He followed the sweep of her tongue across her lower lip again.

Damn. Things were taking a definite turn toward strange.

Finished, Dom pushed his plate away. He gripped the handle of his coffee mug, taking a sip. Good. Brewed just right. He cleared his throat, searching for something to say. Conversation wasn’t part of his skill set.

Madeline scooted closer, thigh to thigh, a hand caressing his shoulder, floating down to clasp his bicep. “Don’t you like having me here? I could be very convenient to have around.”

When her breast brushed his arm, his heart pounded against his ribs. She was coming on to him.

Dom escaped her grip and moved out of boob range. “Be careful, little female.”

As she leaned close, her whispery breath puffed across his ear. “I’m not so little.”

“Uh-huh.” He swallowed hard. What the hell was she doing? She’d gone from scared to distrusting to cautious acceptance. Now this? Was this typical human behavior?

She inched nearer again, heat radiating off her body. He never turned down an offer from a female, and this one was cooking more than breakfast. But Dom was cautious. He didn’t like not knowing the game.

Madeline tilted into his chest and crushed her lips to his.

To hell with caution.

Not about to allow her to control the situation, Dom yanked her onto his lap, her legs straddling him. He took over, forcing her mouth open and caressing her tongue with his. As she melted against him, his cock got with the game.

 

About the Author:

T. M. Smith is the award-winning author of the Blood Coven Series paranormal romance novels and the spin-off Blood Coven World novellas. Her current release is a new romantasy, in the Winged Assassins Series, Dark Shadow of Guilt. She draws upon her imagination to craft stories about strong women and powerful but flawed men in a richly detailed magical world. After retiring from a career as an educator, Smith settled in to write something more creative than lesson plans on split infinitives and inner-school memos on noise in the hallway. She is now living in the Pacific Northwest with vampires, demons, ylves, mages, and winged beings who keep her awake at night with their tales of love and adventure.






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Haunting Joy by A.L. Hawke #SupernaturalRomance


Haunting Joy
A.L. Hawke

Genre: supernatural romance
Publisher: Phantom Heart, LLC
Date of Publication: March 19, 2025
ISBN ebook: 978-1-953919-77-9
ISBN paperback: 978-1-953919-80-9
ISBN hardcover: 978-1-953919-78-6
ISBN audiobook: 978-1-953919-81-6
ASIN: B0DZMNPQHL
Number of pages: 204
Word Count: 53,000
Cover Artist: Mirella Santana

Tagline: Peace ends in the spirit of joy.

Book Description:

Alec was seeking a respite from city life. He thinks he has discovered it on Plymouth Crest, a manor overlooking the forest and a beautiful lake, golden in the sun. But Alec was warned the house is haunted by a murdered pop singer and Hollywood star.

Footsteps and howling winds soon disturb his sleep. One night, he finds an intruder, Joy, standing barefoot among broken glass in the kitchen. He chases her out. But she returns, enchanting him with laughter and boundless energy. It’s not long before Alec falls in love.

Joy ends when a belligerent character shows up and claims ownership of the house. Alec and Joy have a plan to evict him and bring some resolution to past horrors. If they fail, Alec’s dreams will crumble, and Joy might be subjected to a fate worse than death. But if they succeed, Alec and Joy might be separated forever—and so may end joy. To save Joy—and also have hope of being together—they need a bold plan, bringing them face to face with evils buried in the past, and finding a path to a shared future.

Amazon     BookFunnel


Excerpt:

With the sun’s rays shining between the green leaves of the trees surrounding the windows of his glass house, Plymouth Crest was enchanting. Gilded light shone through the leaves and branches creating yellow prism-like effects. And with all the green moss and thrush, it was enchanting—as if Alec lived in an English fae forest or Camelot, which he loved as a writer.

That was what happened during the day. But upon nightfall, all those large windows turned black. And then those same leaves and branches that covered the sunrays blocked moonlight. Then his house became very dark.

But not so quiet…

By the second week, he started hearing noises. At first, it was just stray creaks and cracks from the wood, and Alec figured it was simply the sound of an old foundation. But as time passed, he heard unexplainable things. Stray shouts and screams that sounded as if they were coming from the terrace outside. Doors opening and slamming shut downstairs. Kitchen cabinets left open. Plates and glasses being rearranged on the kitchen table. Doors left open all night. One morning, he even found the couch in the living room had been moved a couple feet. That was the creepiest. On yet another night, he awoke shivering. The glass balcony door of his bedroom was wide open. He was certain he had locked it.

As days passed, the noises only grew louder. One night a wooden chair tipped over downstairs in the dining room. Then another night, a plant was thrown from one of his tall cabinets in the foyer into the living room.

He began to not sleep. He didn’t believe in ghosts, but he couldn’t deny the noises.

Tonight, for hours, he had just stared at the white ceiling over his bed in silence. He had stared long enough for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. And after a while, the darkness made the faint moonlight that shone through openings in his dark mahogany velvet curtains seem bright.

His body jumped. His muscles reacted mechanically before he recognized the noise. It was glass shattering. Something had broken into pieces downstairs. It was so loud that he leapt out of bed and his hands scrambled along the walls to switch on the light. But the light wouldn’t switch on. That was weird because his old clock on the nightstand still read one-thirty-two in red digital letters, and the clock didn’t have back-up power. Electricity was another quirky thing about his house.

He opened the drawer in his nightstand by the bed. In his old house, he had always left a small flashlight by the bed. But the flashlight wasn’t there. It was probably still in one of the boxes in the garage. And he had left his cellphone downstairs.

There was more opening and closing of cabinets and drawers. This time, it wasn’t just stray noises, it seemed to be every few seconds. This didn’t sound like the usual cracks and creaks of some phantom haunting his place. He was worried there was an actual intruder.

He rushed along the inner balcony. Most of his downstairs could be seen from here, but his furniture—his couch, end table, and chairs—were cast in shadows by moonlight.

“Who’s down there?” Alec cried. “Show yourself.”

He was answered by another crash. That made him move faster, darting across his dark, empty living room and running straight to the source of the noise—in the kitchen.

He was wearing only underwear and felt a breeze before seeing the open kitchen door. After doors being left open frequently over the past week, he was sure he had checked the lock on this door before going to bed. He rushed over to shut it.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was home.”

Alec whirled around. That made the intruder on the other side of the kitchen island cover her mouth and snicker.

They stared at one another. Then she drew the apple up to her nose.

“What are you doing here?” Alec snapped.

“Eating an apple.”

“No, what are you doing in my house?”

 

About the Author:

A.L. Hawke is the author of the bestselling Hawthorne University Witch Series. The author lives in Southern California torching the midnight candle over lovers against a backdrop of machines, nymphs, magic, spice and mayhem.

 

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Guest Blog with Author Eli Rainwater - Creative Costumes for Halloween




Halloween is, hands down, my favorite holiday. 

Yes, there’s trick or treating, ghost stories, and candy, but for me, I love the intoxicating magic of being able to dress up however I like, put on masks (or take them off), and celebrate a time when we shift from the end of the harvest season to the start of reflection and introspection. I spend each year planning my costumes and looking forward to the excitement that comes from watching people try to guess what I am. 

Not everyone can afford to buy or make expensive, elaborate costumes each year. I personally love a good punny costume–  which also lends itself well to dressing up on a budget. Here is a list of the top ten costumes I made or saw over the years.  

1. Dr. Frankenstein: Wear a lab coat, scrubs, and stethoscope with a frankfurter (hot dog for those who are unfamiliar) in a beer stein. I got a lot of groans over this one and had to explain it quite a bit, so maybe use it for a literary party. 

2. Boston Cream Pie: You can’t get much simpler than this, but the groans and laughter it got when this particular Red Sox fan walked into my pub one Halloween were worth it. Wear a Boston hat (if you’re outside of the Northeast, then a Red Sox or Celtics hat is the most recognizable), carry a can of whipped cream, and draw, sew, or attach the Pi symbol on your shirt. 

3. A Bun in the Oven: When I was pregnant with my daughter, the only costume expectant mothers had available to them were jack o'lantern sweatshirts. So I enjoyed coming up with this idea. Paint a box or a garden center yard waste bag white and draw or attach felt “eyes” on top. Cut out the center and line it with plastic to look like a door, and now your baby is a bun in the oven! 

4. A Clockwork Orange: Decorate an orange shirt or sweater (or an actual orange costume if you can make or find one) with clockwork pieces. You can find packs of them on Etsy or through craft shops. It’s time consuming to attach dozens of tiny gears, so look for larger ones if you want to speed things up. 

5. House W(h)ine: I did this one year when I managed a pub. Wear a white shirt and carry a pack of sharpies. Let people write their “whines” on your shirt. This can actually be very cathartic as a work costume, especially once the writers get out their initial grievances and start getting silly. 

6. Sleep over: Pajamas, attach “ZZZZZZ to a headband or hat, and you’re a sleepover; also known as the “I just want an excuse to wear comfortable pajamas in public” costume (yes, I did this one more than once)

7. Gone with the Wind: Attach a portable fan to a backpack or jacket and keep moving away from anyone who tries to interact with you; make sure to yell that you’re sorry, but you’re gone with the wind. Excellent for when you reach the point of overstimulation in a crowd. 

8. Stonehenge: Group costume– take tall moving boxes, distress them and paint them gray, cut arm and face holes out of enough for the group and carry one more. Each time you stop, the empty box gets laid across the rest. I once watched a group of college kids make their rent for the month of November by winning every costume contest in town with this idea. 

9. Bright idea: There are a couple of ways to do this. Cut light bulbs out of reflective paper or UV paper or fabric and attach them to a shirt or dress. You can also wrap a short strand of fairy lights in the shape of a light bulb and attach them to a shirt or dress. If you use the lights, be aware of how much heat they give off. LEDs work best. I’ve seen it done both ways, and UV paper and reflective paper worked best in a club environment while fairy lights stand out at house parties.   

10. Spring cleaning: Pin slinkies or springs all over an article of clothing or find a way to wind a metal wire around your torso to look like a spring and carry a feather duster, broom, or mop. If you do the metal wire, be very careful not to poke yourself! Attaching springs to your clothes make the costume more recognizable but is time consuming.


Being punny and costuming on a budget can be a lot of fun! Let your creative juices flow and open your mind to the possibilities. You never know what small, innocuous object you have lying around your house that can help transform your costume to a witty centerpiece.     


Welcome to Jessie’s
The Witch’s Bar Chronicles 
Book One
Eli Rainwater

Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Eli Rainwater Books
Date of Publication: August 8, 2022
ISBN: 979-8-218-05342-0
ASIN: B0B8YMLBRM
Number of pages: 340
Word Count: 82.981

Cover Artist: Photo by Juliana Finch

Tagline: A vampire, a ghost, and a fairy walk into a bar

Book Description: 

When Jessie, one of the oldest and most powerful witches in the world, joined the Witch Council over a thousand years ago, she was embroiled in politics, saving the world, and trying to keep the supernatural world a secret from humans. 

Now supernaturals are out in the open and a tentative alliance between the fae, cryptids, humans, and witches is underway. Jessie finally gets to leave the intrigue and drama behind to own a bar in a small town north of Atlanta where the most annoying thing on her plate is making sure the vampire groupies don’t wind up as someone’s dinner. 

Then a gargoyle is killed in her bar. It‘s not just any gargoyle though– he was the secretary for the European cryptid ambassador to the Alliance. Finding herself in the center of an international– and interspecies– nightmare, Jessie has to rally her allies to stop a power-hungry cabal from starting a war and destroying life as she knows it.

Author Website      Amazon      BN     Apple     Smashwords     Kobo


Excerpt:“No one will ever love me again. I shall die alone with naught to mourn my passing.”

Jessie MacCaverty stopped wiping down the bar top to raise an eyebrow at the chestnut curls belonging to the adorable and devastatingly handsome yet extremely annoying, melodramatic vampire who flounced through the door in a swirl of early autumn air and leaves before dramatically collapsing on a stool in front of her. Her bartender and apprentice Caroline rolled her blue eyes before going back to pouring beers for the amused regulars at the other end of the bar.

“Get your head off the bar. I just wiped that spot,” Jessie tucked a long, silver-gray curl behind her ear, completely unsympathetic to her friend's plight, whatever it was this time.

Nicodemus shot up on the stool, outrage and wounded betrayal reflected in his honey gold almond shaped eyes. The younger of two vampiric siblings, he was as beautiful in death as he had been in life as a long dead king’s military advisor and member of a noble family.

“You! You who are supposed to be the one I hold most dear, the most treasured of my bosom companions, have you no mercy on my poor soul? My wounded heart?”

“Not when you start talking like the bastard child of a Hallmark card and Harlequin romance, I don't.” Jessie was extremely unimpressed-- and unsympathetic.

“So be it,” he huffed, slumping back down to prop his elbows on the oak bar top that had been lovingly polished over the decades until it gleamed forever. “Take away my poet's soul. See if I care.”

Jessie beamed. “See, isn't that better? Now, do you want a drink while you calmly and sensibly tell me what's going on without all the histrionics?”

He scowled before relenting. “Fine. But none of those weird, fruity, sweet things the kids are drinking everywhere! Those colors should never have been put into anything consumable,” he shuddered in disgust.

“Caroline, make him a Manhattan, will you?” Jessie called over her shoulder.

“Sure thing, boss,” Caroline replied cheerfully, tossing her long, blonde, curly ponytail over her shoulder as she deftly flipped a martini glass over and grabbed the bottle of rye.

Nicky studied Jessie as she settled down next to him. She was tiny. Long gray curls framed a slightly oval shaped face, high cheekbones, and huge, piercing blue eyes. She lived for broken in jeans and obscure band or bar t-shirts that were so soft and well worn, they were one stitch away from falling apart. Like all witches, she stopped aging in her mid forties and was eternally in that stage of beauty when the laugh lines enhanced the late summer glow of youth.

“Now. What happened this time?” she asked, settling in for the long haul.

He heaved a melancholy sigh that sounded like it came from his toes. She resisted the urge to follow Caroline's eye-rolling example.

“I thought I met the one. He was so perfect. The gargoyle of my dreams!” Jessie choked on her tea.

“I'm sorry, the what of your dreams?”

He looked affronted. “Gargoyle! I told you about him last week!” ”

Jessie barely managed to hide a guilty look. To be fair, when he started on the love interest du jour, it could get a little... repetitive. It wasn't her fault if it was easier to tune him out and concentrate on inventory. Bits and pieces of his hours-long recitations of adoration started to come back to her.

“Oh, right! That gargoyle!”

Jared, Jessie's other apprentice and barback, a tall, young man with impeccable style and skin the color of dark chocolate and who had lined up a promising career in role playing game production, stopped with the ice bucket in midair to stare at Nicky.

“Dude! How does that even work?” He demanded, fascinated.

“Well, if you must know,” Nicky drew himself up haughtily, “Gargoyles are only stone by day when they revert to their... less attractive but more widely known visages.”

“So, what, at night they're hot?” Sometimes talking to Jared was like talking to the blunt side of a hammer and about as subtle.

“If you must put it that way, yes, they can be. Are. Usually are.” Nicky would have blushed if blood pumped through his veins. Jessie realized that he hadn't fed recently. He must really be enamored with this guy.

“Did he ghost you?” Caroline asked with a sympathetic glance. “No offense, Charlie!”

“None taken.” Charlie was the bar's resident ghost. When Mary Jo Sutton, who was still the town’s most beautiful and seductive succubus at the age of fifty, had propositioned him in the bathroom, he had neglected to mention that he had a heart condition. He swore the resulting heart attack was worth it. She still felt guilty about the whole thing.

“Ghost me? Ghost me??” Nicky was stunned, floored, flabbergasted that anyone could even consider such a thing. Jessie gave in to the urge to roll her eyes. Trying to hold back was exhausting.

“Focus!” she slapped her hand on the bar harder than she planned and instantly regretted it. “Where were you supposed to meet?”

“Well, here, tonight actually. I wanted him to meet you.”

Jessie blinked at him.

“So you're telling me that you just waltzed in here and immediately went into hysterics without even bothering to see if he was here first? I mean, we're not exactly balls to the walls over here, but it's not like we're dead either! No offense, Charlie.”

“None taken,” Charlie replied with a burp. One of Jessie's neatest (in his opinion) little pieces of spellwork involved creating a mug that acted as a portal that gave whatever it contained the ability to exist on the spiritual plane. At the moment, that happened to be beer. No one was entirely sure if the belching was necessary, but not even Jared was willing to ruin Charlie's contentment by asking and possibly ruining the experience.

Nicky looked faintly abashed. “I don't see him though! That's understandable, right? I mean, I even came late on purpose!”

Jessie dropped her head in her hand and shook it with the long suffering patience of one who realized a long time ago that their friend genuinely did not have a clue how personal relationships should go.

Nicky squirmed on his stool.

“Well... it seemed like a good idea at the time. But he didn't stick around, so it doesn't matter! And besides, I was only about fifteen minutes late!”

Jared shook his head as he walked toward the back to put away the ice bucket.

“Man, even I know better than that, and I can't keep a girl around to save my life. No offense, Charlie.”

“None taken,” Charlie replied with equanimity. He had never realized how many turns of phrase involved life or death until he himself switched from one side to the other.

“Hey, Jared, check the bathroom for trash and toilet paper on your way back, please,” Jessie called before turning back to the matter at hand.

“Admittedly, I don't really remember seeing a stranger hanging around tonight. What does he look like? And what’s his name? Also, have you tried calling him or do you have a picture, she asks, knowing that of course you didn't, you just immediately broke down into hysterics and started talking like you came off the cover of the best selling romance novel of the decade?”

Now Nicky rolled his eyes. Jessie felt herself get twitchy as she resisted the urge to pop him on the arm.

“I do not talk like that,” he protested.

“Well, no, not when you remember what year it is,” Jessie replied. Nicky pulled out his phone.

“His name is Warsaw, and unfortunately, I can't take a picture. Gargoyles turn into stone in front of a camera,” he showed her a picture of him kissing a stone... lion? dog? on the cheek while gazing coquettishly at what was obviously a phone camera perched at the end of a selfie stick.

“You carry a selfie stick? Of course you do. Why do I even ask?” She snorted in amusement.

Caroline snickered, grabbing the phone,“You're such an adorable couple! Do you think your kids would have your eyes or his density?”

“Ha ha!” Nicky glared as he snatched the phone out of her grasp. “You're so funny.” He tried-- and failed-- to regain some control of the conversation. By this point, Caroline was giggling uncontrollably, and Charlie laughed himself through his stool.

“Okay, okay, let's calm down,” Jessie grinned. “Try to call him. See what happens.”

“Fine, if it will get you all to stop cackling like a pack of hyenas,” Nicky huffed as he hit a button and held the phone to his ear.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Caroline switched from hilarity to alert in seconds. Jessie was way ahead of her.

She met Nicky's eyes with a growing sense of dread. Out of nowhere, a phone had begun to ring, a muffled sound that could only come from behind a closed door.

At the same time, they heard Jared's scream and the thud as he fell over backwards, scrambling away from the bathroom. Inside was a lifeless body that once belonged to a shy, love struck creature who had, for one brief, shining moment, thought he could have everything his heart, which would never be stone, had ever longed for and found in the deep, deep love of a whimsical, sometimes overly dramatic, slightly narcissistic vampire.


About the Author:

Eli’s love for reading started at an early age when her mother taught her to read almost as soon as she learned to talk. She discovered the fantasy genre and fell hard for it when her brother let her sit in on his D&D sessions and then lent her his collections of Dragonlance and David Eddings books while he was away at college.

Eli wrote short stories and poetry in school, but like so many of us, she never really pursued her passion as an adult. Then, COVID hit. After two years of being in “go mode” while she managed a pub, she spent a week reading in a yurt in the mountains. When she came home, she wrote and self-published her first book.

Now, Eli gets to write stories she loves and travel to conventions and events where people are nice enough to let her talk about her books and the world she created for hours on end.









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Release Day Blitz The Third Ring by A. N. Horton #UrbanFantasyRomance


Do you write in different genres? 

I do, actually. While my primary focus is fantasy, at the moment, I have multiple published titles in historical fiction as well. In fact, I’ve won two awards for my historical mystery/romance A is for Arson as well as my historical romance A Promise Kept. For now, however, I remained focused on building my fantasy universe by expanding my titles in that realm.
If yes which is your favorite genre to write? Fantasy, by far. I thoroughly enjoy the act of world building rather than the research which accompanies historical fiction. Fantasy also happens to be my favorite genre to read. 

Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete? 

I wait until it’s complete. Generally, I stumble across an idea while I’m writing but put it on the back burner until I’ve completed the story. I want to make sure it matches the entirety of the tale rather than a particular moment in time.

Is the book, characters, or any scenes based on a true life experience, someone you know, or events in your own life? As many of my ARC readers have already noted, there are a lot of thematic elements in The Third Ring that speak on the situation of today. I don’t always seek to make political statements with my writing but a dystopian tale is always a poignant commentary on society and I feel that the current state of our world is ripe for thought-provoking literary criticism. Outside of that aspect of the novel, there is always a bit of myself in each of my characters. I identify with Adrian’s overwhelming and somewhat self-destructive need to care for and protect her loved ones as well as Dante’s self-doubt and struggles with familial expectations. I like to think a part of myself lies with each of them and a part of them lives in me. 

Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is your favorite and why? 

This is so hard! I like all of my characters for different reasons. Some because they’re fun, some because they’re relatable, and many because they’re flawed. If I’m being honest, my current favorite character is probably one from book two of The Sanctum Series which hasn’t been released yet. So instead, I’ll say my favorite is Adrian. It may be recency bias but her tough, take-no-nonsense attitude paired with her unflinching loyalty to her family and friends make her a force to be reckoned with. And when though she’s flawed, even though she’s heartbroken and grieving, she has a strength that is both enviable and so undeniably sad. I love her the most because she makes me feel the most.

If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share? 

The next book of the Sanctum Series will be The Second Sanctum and I can’t share too much since book one ends on a MAJOR cliffhanger and I don’t want to spoil the result of it. But I will say that it’s already the longest book I’ve ever written and I’m still working on it. I am about 90% of the way done though and loving how it’s turned out. I can guarantee my readers new characters they’re going to love, a better understanding of Dante and Adrian’s world, more political intrigue, and an incredible magic system we’ve only scratched the surface of in book one.

If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor? 

I like to say that Victoria Aveyard got me into reading but Leigh Bardugo got me into writing. Her books were what showed me that I was fascinated with exploring the dark side of human nature. A villain can’t be a villain just because a writer says they are and the best villains are often complex. The best villains make you think, for a moment, you might understand them, make you almost root for them. And sometimes a character is the villain without you even knowing. That concept is something I’ve enjoyed toying with in my worlds and I have Leigh Bardugo to thank.

Do you have any advice for other writers? 

Write. The. Book. Forget the imposter syndrome, forget the doubt and fear of criticism, forget the probabilities of success. Just sit down and write. Lose yourself in your story, in your world. Even if it never makes it off your screen, it’s yours, and it’s something to be proud of. I’ve met so many writers who never finish their book (some never ever start) because of fear. Get words on the page. You can worry about what to do with them later.

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures? 

I’m a mom of littles so most of my time is spent caring for them, the house, and working a full time job. Writing is my hobby. It’s become a second business lately but one I love. Outside of all that, I enjoy reading works by other indie and traditionally published authors, interacting with readers on social media, and binging some of my favorite tv shows. Right now, I’m rewatching New Girl for the millionth time and watching Wheel of Time with my husband.

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress? 

I’m currently hard at work on book two of The Sanctum Series. I think my readers would riot if I wasn’t. I’m also working diligently on a companion novella for my completed Immortal Plane Trilogy from the POV of everybody’s favorite side character, Rook. Those chapters are being uploaded as a work in progress, as I complete them, on both Patreon and Substack. I’m also working on the fifth anniversary editions of The Langley & Porter Mystery Series. I’m hoping to re-release all four books this summer with new covers and an omnibus edition to boot. Other than that, the Immortal Plane Trilogy books are getting hardback editions so I’m always busy with something! As an indie author, I am my own marketer, publicist, graphic designer, and more for most things so I’m always working, but I love it, of course.


The Third Ring
The Sanctum Series
Book One
A. N. Horton

Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Veil and Valor Books
Date of Publication: April 15, 2025
ISBN: 979-8-9911249-6-6 
ASIN: B0DY949XBH
Number of pages: 404 Pages
Word Count: 112,000
Cover Artist: Adrian Păsărin

Tagline: Ten Trials. Two Oaths. One Chance.

Book Description: 

To Adrian, the gods were never anything to be worshipped, just tolerated. But in the walled city of Sanctuary, whether through the religious fervor of the elite or the quaking fear of the poor, the Geist have always been served. And now it's Adrian's turn.

Born into power and raised for greatness, Dante stands for everything Adrian has come to despise, but he may be her only hope of survival. When the two of them are bonded against their will and forced to compete together in the Trials, the god's ancient gauntlet of physical brutality and psychological torture, they have no choice but to set aside old prejudices and work together. Navigating religious zealots, a patriarch intent on breeding the pair for power, and the increasingly obvious cruelty of the gods, Adrian must come to terms with the fact that, whether Culled or Championed, we all serve the gods in the end. And, for her, betrayal has always been waiting just around the corner.

Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XcZCgrRLlGQ

 

 

Excerpt:

 

I was in a vast, open chamber. The walls were made of solid, smooth gray stone, almost the color of charcoal, with thin veins of white running through them at odd angles. That singular, faint light shone down on a massive hunk of porous stone which took up most of the room. I approached it slowly, in awe of the size. I’d always thought the Oath Stone was small, something you held in both hands while reciting some vow the attendants guided you through or had written on the walls.

I glanced around. There were no words. Not on the walls, not on the floors, not even on the stone itself. There were no words written anywhere, no instructions, no Oath. I spun around again and again, searching in vain as my panic rose to the surface.

How do I know what to say?

How pathetic. Utterly, depressingly pathetic. How was I ever to make it past a single Trial if I couldn’t even figure out how to take my Oath?

My palms itched. I scratched them with my fingernails as I walked toward one of the walls. I narrowed my gaze, trying to discern a pattern in the white lines running through them. There was nothing.

I huffed, my nails continuously running back and forth on the sensitive skin of my palms. But the more I scratched them, the more they burned. I switched to rubbing them as I approached the stone. I leaned down, staring at the hunk of porous stone, tilting my head side to side as I inspected the bumps and crevices until I hissed—the burning in my palms had become an inferno.

Frantic, I held up my hands, expecting to see inflamed skin, a rash even, but they weren’t even red.

Still, they burned.

Flooded with an overwhelming compulsion to find relief from the cool surface of the Oathstone, I reached out and pressed my palms flat against the massive rock. The burning stopped, the itching soothed. I closed my eyes and took a breath.

Then I heard it. A faint voice in the back of my mind getting louder and louder…

I jerked back in surprise, but the moment my hands left the stone, they began to burn even worse than before. I hissed and stared at them again. I still saw nothing but my own skin. Shaking, I reached for the stone again.

The moment flesh met rock, the voice returned. I twitched, uneasy, but concentrated, frowning and pressing my eyes shut tight as if that would help me hear it. It spoke in a whisper and cycled through its message before I could finally make out the words.

“Repeat after me.”

I again startled. The words echoing around in my head were coming from my own voice. I tried to pull my hands from the stone, but I couldn’t. My palms were fused to the rock.

“I vow to obey the tenets of the Trials.”

I hesitated. Did I truly want to go through with this? As confident as I’d been this morning, as resigned to follow through with Darius’s last wish of me, this was…something else entirely. Something I hadn’t expected.

“Make your Oath,” my own voice hissed at me.

“I-I vow…to obey the tenets of the Trials,” I repeated. It seemed to be my only way out of here.

“I shall not speak of my experiences in the Trials, neither now nor upon their completion,” my voice whispered, then waited for me to repeat before continuing. “I shall use my blessings in service to the Geist. I shall seek to keep all knowledge and capability given as a result of my success between myself and my partner. I shall train my body, mind, and soul to be a proper reflection of the holiness of the Geist. For the duration of my candidacy in the Trials, I forfeit all worldly obsessions and submit myself to the will of my gods.”

Again, I hesitated. It seemed a lofty price to pay in honor of a friend I’d never see again. A friend the Geist had stolen from me. The thought of Darius, in this moment of all things, was like a punch to the gut. But it was a reminder as well: I wouldn’t be swearing it for them. So I took a deep breath and made my Oath. The words turned bitter on my tongue.

 

About the Author:

A. N. Horton is a two-time award-winning author living in Nashville, TN with her husband, children, and moderately chunky Corgi. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, baking more cookies than her family can eat, and plotting crimes against her characters. Best known for crafting characters that steal her readers’ hearts as much as they shatter them, A. N. Horton is a cross-genre writer focused mainly on fantasy and romance.