Werewolves Howl, Phantoms Prowl

 

“The jack-o-lantern follows me with tapered, glowing eyes. His yellow teeth grin evilly. His cackle I despise. But I shall have the final laugh when Halloween is through. This pumpkin king I’ll split in half to make a pie for two.”  ― Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons   Happy Halloween!      Whether you are a Halloween enthusiast or not, this is a lovely time of year to decorate the front porch with autumn colors and pumpkins. Carving a jack-o-lantern can be a rewarding treat as well. I love the glowing faces and the pumpkin seeds we scoop out to salt and dry. Another tradition for me is reading and writing Halloween poetry. Every fantasy creature we typically pair with the holiday can inspire fun verses. They may rhyme or not, either way is acceptable. Why not try your hand at creating a Halloween poem of your own? Be creative and share your poetry with others. I hope you enjoy the poems below that I wrote for Halloweens past.  The Tarishe Curse is a great Halloween read if you are looking for one. Find it in kindle, paperback, and hardcover formats on Amazon.com. SHORT SUMMARY: The full Tarishe moon never fails to herald the arrival of werewolves, drawn to the village like greedy dragons to golden treasure. Catherine, a huntress, faces them every year, but she soon finds that the real villains are unlike any she has ever met. Vengeance is the game. A Tarishe curse, the weapon of choice. What am I working on now?        With my latest book,   A Heart Made of Tissue Paper, now published and available for readers to enjoy, I have turned my attention to another book with original quotes, poems, and some short stories for every day of the year. This new book will be titled, Hope Evermore. Expect a release date in the spring of 2024.        I am also working on a new fantasy adventure that involves some Mayan mythology. There is no release date for this book yet, but I will tell you I am about 50% through the first draft of this manuscript. I love it so far!        Keep reading and reviewing those books!  _  _  ________________  _  _

Halloween Poems by R.E.Goodrich

In the spirit of All Hallows Eve, I dug up a few of my original short Halloween poems.  I've added some new verses to the mix in celebration of this spooky holiday.  I hope you enjoy them.

A pumpkin lives but once a year 

when someone sets its soul afire 

and on that night it stirs up fear 

until its flame is snuffed.

But e'en one night of eerie light is fright enough.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

Monsters excite us in this way or that.
They make our pulse thrum and steal lives from the cat!
They're frightening creatures, one peek and you'll see.
Yet life without monsters, how dull it would be.
Your tense, nervous laugh tells me you disagree?

      — Richelle E. Goodrich (Smile Anyway)

Witches cackle.
Goblins growl.
Spectres boo,
And werewolves howl.
Black cats hiss.
Bats flap their wings.
Mummies moan.
The cold wind sings.
Ogre’s roar.
And crows, they caw.
Vampires bahahahaha.
Warlocks swish their moonlit capes.
Loch Ness monsters churn the lake.
Skeletons, they rattle bones
While graveyards crack the old headstones.
All the while the ghouls, they cry
To trick-or-treaters passing by.
Oh, the noise on Halloween;
It makes me want to scream!
— Richelle E. Goodrich (Slaying Dragons)

A Halloween flower,

if ever there was one,

would smell like an onion,

have thorns like a rose.

With charcoal black petals

and vines that entangle,

t'would grow under moonlight

in mud, I suppose.

                — Richelle E. Goodrich

Treats and tricks.

Witch broomsticks.

Jack-o-lanterns

Lick their lips.

Crows and cats.

Vampire bats.

Capes and fangs

And pointed hats.

Werewolves howl.

Phantoms prowl.

Halloween’s

Upon us now.

                                                    — Richelle E. Goodrich (Slaying Dragons)

Haunt an old house. 
Ask for a treat. 
Laugh like a witch. 
Lick something sweet. 
Offer a trick. 
Wander a maze. 
Echo a boo. 
Exclaim the phrase— 
Normal's unnatural on Halloween!    

— Richelle E. Goodrich (Making Wishes)

The jack-o-lantern follows me with tapered, glowing eyes.

His yellow teeth grin evily.  His cackle I despise.

But I shall have the final laugh when Halloween is through.

This pumpkin king I’ll split in half to make a pie for two.

                                                                              — Richelle E. Goodrich

The coldest day in fall

is at the Hallows Evening ball

where ghoulish fun

avoids the sun

as monsters mingle wall to wall.

— Richelle E. Goodrich

Copyright 2016 Richelle E. Goodrich

The Tarishe Curse―A NEW Post on Halloween

    Halloween is just around the pumpkin patch!   I've finished writing the next installment of my traditional tale for All Hallows Eve, an ongoing story about the cursed queen of werefolk, Duvalla.  Only a few short days and it will be time to post the next portion of this dark adventure.  I'd say you have just enough time to re-read the story from the beginning.  Enjoy, and be anxious for what's to come!

THE  TARISHE  CURSE

by American author, Richelle E. Goodrich

Here's Your All Hallows Eve Treat

Having received more than one request for the newest chapters in The Tarishe Curse to be posted a day early because... 

"Halloween is too filled with festivities; there's no time to read."  

"I'm torn between wanting to curl up on the sofa and read vs getting into costume to go out with friends"  

"I hate trying to speed read so I can be done before trick-or-treating starts."

I've sucumbed to these valid arguments. So, this chilly autumn day preceding All Hallow's Eve, I give you the next installment of the Queen of Werefolk's harrowing story.

But first, for those new to our holiday tradition, allow me to fill you in...

A few years back I thought it would be fun to write a short Halloween story for my friend, Cathie, who happens to be the holiday's biggest fan. I posted my completed work on my blog—a grim tale about the cursed Queen of Werefolk—and let Cathie know to read it.

She did.

And then she asked, "So, what's the rest of the story?"

Uh….what? The rest? You mean, you want to know what happens next? Well, I don't know; I meant for it to end.

"You should extend the story for next Halloween."

The idea appealed to me. So I wrote more about the werewolves, their enemies and challenges, and posted the result the following Halloween. That day a tradition was born. Ta-dah! Read from the beginning by clicking here.

Now, sit back and enjoy what happens next...

Dedicated to my friend, Cathie Duvall,

the true Queen of All Hallows Eve.

Copyright 2015 Richelle E. Goodrich

The Next Chapter You've Been Waiting For in The Tarishe Curse

Happy Halloween!  

       An air of excitement sends a chill down my spine because I just posted the next chapter of The Tarishe Curse online!  As in years past, this spook tale that continues every Hallows Eve is dedicated to my friend, the reigning Queen of Halloween—Cathie Duvall.  If you have recently become aware of our Hallows Eve tradition, click on the title here—The TarisheCurse—and enter a gripping Halloween tale that will have you returning every year on this same spooky night for another reader's treat. Now, get comfortable, ghouls and goblins. It is story time!

“Vengeance would have us assault an enemy's pride to beat him down. But vengeance hides a dangerous truth, for a humbled foe gains patience, courage, strength, and greater determination.”

― Richelle E. Goodrich

A Cursed Halloween Story

All Hallows Eve is nearing!  I'm so excited!

You know what this means—another installment in the ongoing spook tale, 

The Tarishe Curse.  

If you have yet to experience the plight of the Queen of Werefolk—caused by a witch’s curse—now is the time to curl up in the corner of your sofa and greedily feast on the beginning chapters of a gripping Halloween tale.  Following are quotes from the reading to wet your appetite:

"Vengeance, retaliation, retribution, revenge are deceitful brothers; vile, beguiling demons promising justifiable compensation to a pained soul for his losses. Yet in truth they craftily fester away all else of worth remaining."

“I squinted at the western sky behind Thaddeus, a blood-red smear melting into blackness. Twisting my neck, I glanced the opposite direction. My teeth clenched at a magnified, round moon nearly as scarlet as the portending sunset, its luminous face half masked by hazy cloud cover. Hatred, vengeance, anger… such emotions coursed through my veins in a poisonous concoction that muddied my mind, impelling me to grip my sword tighter and fight with every ounce of strength I possessed against those who threatened my family - my kind. Currently, Thaddeus was behaving as such a threat, using his powers of persuasion to condone human sacrifice for some outrageously perceived good. He wanted an offering for the monsters; a desperate, futile offering of human flesh that would in no way protect the other villagers from being mauled as he promised.” 

“Misery is a river of tears that whispers my name in a constant hiss.” 

He gestured at me. “Do you like the blanket?”

I nodded. “It’s warm.”

“I made it. Well, actually, I didn’t skin the animal, but I did kill it… after the others pinned it down. It’s werewolf skin.”

My heart faltered; I gripped at a wad of black fur.

“I slayed the beast for you, Catherine. I used your sword. It was your grandmother’s idea actually, a wedding present. You mentioned how chilly you get.”

“You didn’t slay a werewolf,” I breathed before repeating the words louder. “You did not slay a werewolf, Thaddeus.”

“Oh, but I did. I took a band of huntsman with me and we tracked one down. A smaller one, mind you, not far from the front gate…”

“You did not!” I contended more strongly. Why would one wolf have separated from the pack? Why outside our walls?

“Yes, Catherine, I did,” he insisted.

I shook my head disbelieving. “You’re not capable—”

“I am so.”

I wanted to cry. I wanted to protest, but to do so meant giving away my knowledge of the truth. Without knowing what else to do or say I changed the subject.

“The fire’s gone out.”

Thaddeus turned his head to check. “You’re right. I’ll see to it.”

He fed the barrel stove until a healthy blaze was roaring. Finding me no longer a decent conversationalist, Thaddeus left with a promise to return soon with food and water. Unobserved, I gathered up the fur hide of a lost soul and curled into a ball, hugging it close to my chest. 

I cried silent tears and mourned for this unknown werewolf for days. 

“Enemies may unite to eliminate a common threat, but never without a wary eye fixed on their ally.”

“Vengeance would have us assault an enemy's pride to beat him down. But vengeance hides a dangerous truth, for a humbled foe gains patience, courage, strength, and greater determination.” 

The nonsense of his claim made me stammer over the rest of my question.  “But…no, no, why did you… I mean, why didn’t you kill me?  Why let me live?  I’m your sworn enemy wielding the power to destroy you, so why am I not dead?”

His face fell forlorn as if he had insight into the ending of my story, one that could only be labeled a tragedy.  I was certain such was the case; I would most likely die here at the hands of the same monsters who’d taken my offspring.  But I would not go to the grave without first understanding this mystery.  When moisture appeared to glisten in his eyes, the sight was excruciating to me, so I dropped my gaze to stare at his legs—waiting.”

“Enemies may unite to eliminate a common threat, but never without a wary eye fixed on their ally.” 

I made a heart-sworn oath at that very moment, vowing on my son’s grave to hunt down the black queen of the devil and strike her dead with my silver sword.  And I would do the same to her companion, that foul umber wolf. 

“Grandma, it hurts,” I cried, lifting my face to seek compassion in her gaze.  “I want that wolf to pay for what she’s done!”

Her cold hand rested on my cheek and wiped at a spill of tears. 

“Oh, the wretched creature shall pay, Catherine,” Grandmother assured me.  A fiery glimmer flashed in her eyes, and I knew my pain was understood.  “She shall pay dearly.”

“Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled.” 

Copyright 2012 Richelle E. Goodrich