Come Join the Haunting--this week at Romantic Friday Writers

Romantic Friday Writers, a weekly on-going blogfest run by L'Aussie and Francine Howarth, has an open challenge to everyone to write a 400-word story or poem on the theme Haunting for Friday, October 28th.

What haunts you? Do you have a story or poem in the paranormal genre you could share, do ghosts or zombies inhabit your universe? Or do you have a character who is just plain haunted by what has happened in the past? Release your creative juices and pen a tasty banquet for the feast on Friday. Just remember to have an element of romance present in some form...

How do you enter your story?

• Click here to go to the Romantic Friday Writers' website
• Submit your direct story link to the linky (linky will go up Wednesday 26 this week)
• Tweet using #RFWer to tell the twitterverse you've posted (optional) or post on facebook etc...
• Find some time over the Halloween weekend to read other stories. What better way to spend the weekend while you suck on trick or treat candies?
• If you're a member, your story is automatically up for Featured Writer, Runner Up or an Encouragement Award. If you're not a member, you're welcome to join - it's free! Remember, you don't have to be a member to post this week or any week!

Please join us for a chilling good time!

~ ~ ~ Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. She is the author of the novel, TEARS ON A TRANQUIL LAKE, the first in a trilogy. Part two, TORTUGA TREASURE is contracted for release in January, 2012. Look for her first of an epic fantasy romance series, SEEKING A SCRIBE: ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS ONE, to be available early 2012.

The bewitching music of Nox Arcana

For today’s Magical Monday, I’d like to share some wonderfully eerie and magical music. The group is Nox Arcana. They create haunting, atmospheric soundscapes with gothic themes which often follow references to classic horror literature. I find their recordings make excellent inspirational music for writing anything bewitching, dark, or fantastical. Pursuing deeper, their albums contain captivating storylines, with hidden riddles and puzzles.

 The group is a duet of Joseph Vargo and William Piotrowski, formed in 2003. The group’s name, Nox Arcana, is from Latin, meaning “mysteries of the night.”

Their credits include several film scores. Their debut, "Darklore Manor," was part of a televised special of the 1922 silent film classic Nosferatu. Their gothic tracks have also been used in theatrical productions of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and Lewis Carrol’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. During Halloween season their recordings provide the eerie backdrops for many haunted theme parks: Universal Studios; Busch Gardens; Six Flags; Knott’s Berry Farm.

I truly enjoy the group’s literary tributes. Their album "Transylvania" is based upon Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Their sinister "Necronomicon" recording pays homage to H.P. Lovecraft, while their unsettling Blackthorn Asylum takes a chilling look into a 19th century sanitarium, a storyline from Lovecraft’s “From Beyond.” The melancholy themes of their work "Shadow of the Raven," calls upon influences of Edgar Allan Poe. One of my favorite recordings, "Grimm Tales," enlivens the nightmares of the Brothers Grimm’s fairy tale world. Inspired by classic fiction, these in turn, inspire my own writing.

This Friday, October 1st, marks the date for a new Nox Arcana release, "Welcome to the House of Nightmares," a horror soundscape just in time for the Halloween season. This promotion of this recording promises:

“Dark things dwell in the old house by the cemetery, lying in wait for anyone who dares to enter. Unearthly sounds echo from the shadows of the abandoned mansion as sinister incantations unleash ancient horrors to haunt the realm of the living. The CD delivers 19 tracks of spine-tingling sound effects and dark cinematic music to create an eerie atmosphere of lurking terror.”

To give a taste of their music, I’m sharing two videos. The first is from their most recent CD, entitled “Theater of Illusion.” In a dreamlike state, strange and mystifying acts can be heard, as they are performed by phantom magicians. Their melodies are rich with orchestrations, piano, harpsichord, pipe organ, and gothic choirs. Additional songs of Theater of Illusion may be sampled and/or you may purchase their CD at this site. http://noxarcana.com/illusion.html 

The second video is the song "Night of the Wolf" from their CD "Transylvania" and the video is from the Russian movie, Evil, directed by Oleg Fesenko.

From the sands of Arabia, an update about my novel, Illusions of Intimacy

A quick hello to all reading. I am Gamal, a camel herder here in the village, at least during this wet season. While my boys watch the herd in its feeding corral, I shall spend a few moments seated here upon the woolen carpet of my tent with quill in hand. The author, my creator, asked me to compose a note relating my activities in her novel, Illusions of Intimacy. Please know me by my given name, Wadji. In Arabic it means being of strong emotions and love, like my soul. But, I must depart soon to meet someone, so I'll hasten at my appointed task.

Though a simple nomadic trader, I travel with my wooden locker of treasured volumes, many very old and given to me from my family. Reading helps pass lonely evening hours. Curiously, one book led me to meet the lovely noblewoman, Fareeda. Maybe you saw her – fair with long, golden hair escaping her niqab veil. Word travels fast about foreigners.

Yesterday she chose to bathe in the river and my herd ran upon her, our customary watering location. Since the sun baked us as we crossed the sand to the river, I understood her need for cooling. I yanked back my mares and spoke a dozen apologies. So beautiful, I dared to look upon her face and bosom, even if I'd receive punishment. Deep beyond the lady's beauty, I recalled her face from some memory. Haunting.

At today's trading souk she passed my camel pen, behaving as if she knew me. Her blue topaz eyes commanded me to stare. Minutes later, her servant returned, handing me a note certain to be a charge against my inappropriate attention. But no. Blank. I turned the sheet over, studying it and looking for traces of ink. Then, I gasped. Before my eyes print appeared, as though arising from within the parchment.

How? I scanned every visible detail of the paper. Once the market closed, I rushed here to my tent to seek one particular book from my trunk. Underneath blankets and keepsakes I found it, a black leather volume covered with gilding. I opened it, holding Fareeda's loose parchment alongside in my shaking hand. The papers – same dimensions, hue, weight, and grain. I stepped to the door and lifted the tent flap to gain more light. The same flowing, feminine hand scripted the words. I could not believe. Fareeda and the woman who had written in this journal, the same? How?

“I do remember. Your eyes haunt me. I have something to show you. When the moon is just risen please come to the east tower of Lord Nidal's palace."

So many times I read those pages, wondering why I possessed the book. Probably by some accident. The lady's thoughts always haunted me, drawing me back many evenings. On those nights, my dreams filled with topaz eyes, the very same as Fareeda's.

My heart raced. I flipped backwards and forwards through pages for clues. I found none, only confusion. In the passages, she addressed her lover, Lyvain, separated from her and how she may unite her soul with his for eternity.

The sun is low; I must make haste to the baths to not offend the lady. My pulse at my fingertips makes my pen shake over this page. Please excuse my penmanship. Many questions. Could she be the writer? How does she know me? What does she want from me? Did we know each other in a previous life? Were we lovers then? She is beautiful . . . I am but a lowly camel herder. Not likely . . . but perhaps. I will leave now. A goodnight to you.

                                                                                Your humble servant,
                                                                                                       Wadji