Genre Chick Interview: Sarah Pinborough

Sarah Pinborough, the British Grace Kelly of the horror genre, is riding high–having just won a British Fantasy Award for her short story “Do You See”–and in a few weeks she is up for the World Fantasy Award for her short “Our Man in the Sudan.” Anyone who follows her on Twitter knows that she’s […]

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HCH on Fictionwise

For those savvy tech people, Harlan County Horrors is now available on Fictionwise. And they’re having a big sale on horror right now, so it’s only like three bucks. What are you waiting for? Go for it.

What better way to get in the mood for Halloween?

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Lora Innes Interview @ Fantasy Magazine

I got a copy of THE DREAMER graphic novel from IDW and immediately fell in love (Click on the banner above — you can check it all out online!). So much so that I contacted Lora Innes — the comic’s dynamic and fabulously talented writer/illustrator — to see if I could do an interview with her. She said yes.

And then Cat over at Fantasy Magazine mentioned that she’d like to be the one to run it. So I said yes.
We’re all such a bunch of affable people.
Hey — wanna read it?
(You don’t even have to say "yes." Just click right here.)

Happy Friday!

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Happy Anniversary, Soteria & Charles!

Soteria & Charles have been married two years today — hooray!

The rest of us remember what was one of the coolest weddings in history — held at the Charleston Aquarium, my father officiating, Soteria walking down the steps in her customized designer gown to a string-version of The Pixies’ “Where is My Mind?”, my nephew cracking us all up during the “speak now or forever hold your peace”, Monica’s amazing flower arrangements complete with fish in the vases, and the dancing. All the wonderful dancing. Including this one. Remember this?

The song is “Burning Down the House” — the demo tape got yanked off YouTube, but the tutorial is still there:

And here is a clip from the actual dance being performed at the wedding, complete with some of us jokers wearing masks like the tutorial taught us:

The best part, though, was never captured on video — like most truly best moments are. But those of us who were there remember someone handing the wedding soundtrack to the bartender at the after party, and someone else pushing the tables aside so we could all jump up and do an impromptu recreation of the dance right then and there.

Because all the best people’s lives include impromptu musical numbers.

Happy anniversary, Soteria & Charles. Here’s to many more awesome years. xox

(Want to wish them happiness yourself? Stop by the Dixie Dunbar Facebook page and send your love!)

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The Fairest of Them All

Dude…of course I’m totally talking about me. Yeah. That goober there in the picture with the chibi eyes and the face of a Muppet. The one and only Alethea Madeleine Kontis, a.k.a Princess Alethea. Moi.

Yes, Alethea is my real, mom-and-dad given name. The Princess title was inevitable…like a freight train down the track, it was simply a long time coming. Contrary to popular belief, I never wanted to be a princess growing up. I wanted to be an actress and a writer…both of whom were free to dress like a gypsy and run around the yard speaking in a British accent.

Mostly I blame my current Princesshood on Jill Conner Browne who, during a visit to Ingram in March of 2007, bestowed upon me a Big Ass Tiara and proclaimed me Princess of Ingram. When I signed up for LJ they told me I couldn’t use my own name as someone had already syndicated it, so I had to come up with something else. BAM. At my best friend Devin’s wedding a year later, I made up nametags for Devin’s sister, my sister, and myself, declaring that we were Princess Megan, Princess Soteria, and Princess Alethea. I left it stuck on my laptop for a very long time. When I was asked to come up with a title for my review column at Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, what name could have been better than Princess Alethea’s Magical Elixir? Similarly, when the sideshow idea for Dragon*Con sprang to life like Athena from my cranium…well, you see where this insanity has led.

Type in Yeah, I went there. Figured if I was gonna do it, I was gonna own it.  I took physics — that freight train has a lot more inertia than I do, and it would be futile to stop it. A lot less fun, too.

Ultimately, I’ve found it’s easier for people to call me "Princess" than remember how to pronounce Uh-LEE-thee-uh, and I’m totally okay with that. If we only see each other at the odd convention, you really shouldn’t have to work that hard. We’rethere to have fun, not embarrass each other.

Now, according to my magic mirror (which I sometimes refer to as "Google Alert"), there are two other Princess Aletheas on these here intarwebs. One is a Princess in the SCA (Alethea Eastriding, Crown Princess and one-time Queen of the East), and the other is a fan fiction writer. I should not be confused with either of these women — who I’m sure are very much fabulous in their own special ways.

But let’s be clear — like it says up there at the top — all the ways about here belong to me.

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2009 Southern Festival of Books (with pics)

The Young, Fanged, & Undead panel — David MacInnis Gill, Daniel Waters, Melissa de la Cruz, and me. We had a TON of fun. I love making new friends (barring David, whom I’ve known like forever). There are a few more pics here.

BFFs: The Soul-Seller, the Necromancer, the Vampiress, and the Princess

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Been feeling a bit like this lately a rainbow caught in a storm.

Also, I’m in the thick of novel revisions/rewrites. Your regularly scheduled blog will return…um…yeah. And it’s not like I’m not constantly on Twitter or anything. I’m still alive and kicking. And beautiful. And caught in a storm…

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Princess Alethea’s Magical Elixir

The new Princess Alethea’s Magical Elixir reviews are up over at Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show! This month I discuss:

Title: Rogue Angel: Destiny (audiobook)
Author: Alex Archer
Publisher: GraphicAudio
EAN: 9781599502052

Title: Bad Moon Rising
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
EAN: 9780312369491

Title: Ophelia Joins the Group Maidens Who Don’t Float: Classic Lit Signs on to Facebook
Author: Sarah Schmelling
Publisher: Plume
EAN: 9780452295735

(If you happen to see that last one in the bookstore, pick it up and have a giggle.)

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“A Poor Man’s Roses” now up at Apex


At first, she sang to remember. It was a way to pass the long, dark time, a way to drown out the buzz in her head when the earth shook and the bunker rattled, a way to live outside the bars of her cage, to be a woman who smoked and drank, flirted and pined, flipped her pin curls and married a man for his car. Eventually, Patsy Cline became Kerri’s reason for living. In five years, she hadn’t found a better one.

“Good morning,” said Stella. It was the only clue Kerri ever had to the time of day, or the notion that days passed at all. Stella opened the cage hatch and slid the food through. “I have a surprise for you today.” She smiled. “You’ll like it.”

Let’s see…what would she like? Kerri would have welcomed a hot poker in the eye, an asteroid hitting the earth, or the blast from that damned super volcano the world had been holding its collective breath about for the past decade. It would be ironic, Kerri mused, if all three suddenly happened at once. About as ironic as someone surviving cancer just to live out the rest of her days in a prison.

Read the rest of "A Poor Man’s Roses" over at Apex Magazine. Or just make me look popular and click on the link.

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Fiction Sale — “Diary of a Ghost’s Mistress” to Shroud

When it rains it pours, and I’ve got my umbrella flipped upside-down to catch it all!

On the heels of Horrorfind comes this sale to the awesome Michael Knost at Shroud Magazine.  Look for it in the very next issue!

This story is based on the legend of Beilstein castle in Germany (pictured right).


April 12, 1946

    You left me here, you bastard. Left me in this picturesque burg on a riverbend strewn with wretched Nazi refuse, left me weeping in this tower–the only part of this rotting castle that’s still in one piece. Godforsaken, as Mama would say. This country, this town, this pile of crumbling rocks, me. I miss Mama. I hear her sometimes, in the back of my head. Sit up straight. Don’t overcook the chicken. Chew your food. Smell the roses. Smile into the sunshine.

     I hear you too. Telling me to be strong; telling me I’m going to be all right; telling me I’m your princess. I wake up to your voice every morning, whispering "Maddie" in my ear, and every morning I open my eyes to nothing. I know I’m depressed, and I understand that you’re never coming back, but I want you to be there in that second–just for a second–so I can yell at you.

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