Book 6 of the series is out now, Halloween 2025! Find it on Amazon!
Fantasy, Erotica, Horror
Tag: witchcraft
Today, for Halloween (or Samhain if you celebrate), I’m releasing book 5 of Tales of the End Times: The Plague God.
In the new novel, the dangerous angel of the dark moon, Suriyel, has vowed to take revenge on Joanie. That revenge extends across all time.
During the Black Death, an earlier Joanie meets her lover, the angel Azazel, in a magic circle. But that magic inflicts destruction. In the here and now, Joanie makes a pact with the plague god Nergal, only to have pandemic threaten. In the near future, white supremacist militia capture Joanie and her friends. They escape across the desert, but someone gets left behind. Can the incubus-succubus Puabi-Ekur help them perform a rescue?
Through it all, Joanie’s angel and incubus stand to protect her—until one of them decides it’s too much.
Find a link to the book on Amazon, free for now on Kindle Unlimited!
The ancient Celts celebrated Samhain as a weeklong holiday, when ghosts walked and no one made war. I figure I’m just outside the orb of Samhain now—late harvest, time to cull the herds, though around here we only get the occasional mouse.
After my morning witch-practice, I often leave my deity and ancestor candles burning a while for connection and in their honor.
This morning, after I was done, Potato decided to sit with my ancestors and deities too. If Cat-Mom does it every morning, maybe it’s useful for cats…?
Witchy beauty of a full worm moon, how I love you! The wind is up, spring is here, the frogs are calling out romance. Woodsmoke floats in the air, sweet and a little dangerous. Equinox, hello.
I was too busy gawking at the moon last night to take a photo. A picture of a recent reading for personal guidance will have to do.
It happens: Someone we thought highly of turns out to be all too human. A teacher or leader in a community, someone we looked up to, gets called out and reacts poorly. Or the thing they did proves too big to let pass, or they show up being their problematic self again. They lose their crown. Their community turns on them. I don’t have just one story in mind.
Sometimes in this merry-go-round I play authority figure too, and what I notice is that my faults (and I have many) get magnified. Probably my main problem is my short temper. I snap at points of stress. I often owe someone an apology. Others have pointed out I duck publicity. I like being a big frog in a tiny pond. I solve the problem of being called out by staying too small to bother with.
A nearly full moon hangs above the trees, and leaves skitter across the road like little animals as I drive, so much so I keep half-stopping.
I was attracted to my witch tradition in part because it works with the fey (or fairies, or what you will). Contrary to some lore, we find that they like being called with bells. Our fey caller is hung with goat bells.
The fey for us include all spirits that aren’t deities, but I particularly think of nature spirits—the people of the place, whether connected to particular animals, plants, or locations, or to the greater spirit of place. I think also of weather fey.
These crazy days, when I’m working so hard, what keeps me sane is my witch practice.
I made ten minutes this morning—which seemed like a lot—to sit in front of my altar and do that.