I’m Not A Celebrity, But I Got An Interview Anyway :)

JD Byrne is a fellow West Virginian writer. He’s a fantasy and science fiction author. Check him out if you like to read those genres. JD was nice enough to give me an author interview. I haven’t had one in a long time ha ha. Please click on the link if you’d like to read it–Author Interview Yawatta Hosby

Keep smiling,

Yawatta Hosby

What Writing Has Scared Myself, Wondering Where My Wild Imagination Came From

Celebrating Women’s Horror Month, I’d like to share my personal writing experience. Today I was asked an awesome question: Do you ever come up with anything so wild that you scare yourself, that leaves you wondering where that came from?

My answer–absolutely yes! I really pushed myself to the limit when I was writing Twisted Obsession. I scared myself how easily the words flowed on the page, it’s a pretty dark story. I scared myself how much fun I had writing Miki. Let me tell ya, Miki was a real piece of shit, and I held nothing back. I wanted my readers to feel disgusted by him. No leeway.

But, the most important thing that scared me while writing my suspense novella…how calmly I wrote Chapter 28. I couldn’t believe what I did to the son Jahlin. Some of my beta-readers demanded I change the ending, but I stuck to my guns. How demented and creepy Miki was, there couldn’t be a different ending.

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I remember after writing Chapter 28, I needed to compose myself. I held back tears, fearing what I had in store for Finia next. I felt like a piece of shit because I don’t condone violence. Heck, I’ve never been in a fight before. I’m a peaceful hippie. But, when you write dark fiction, you have to get out of your comfort zone and enter the mind of your villain with no apologies.

That scene was hard for me, but I’m proud of myself. I stayed true to my dark, creepy, obsessive suspense novella. I didn’t chicken out and give a happy ending to please readers.

If you don’t mind spoilers, here’s a sneak peak of Chapter 28:

Miki chuckled and looked at his son, then he scanned the area in the front, back, and sides of the boat. On the lake, they were near an open field, so he had to make sure no one else was approaching. He had gone to the least favorite fishing spot in the area for a reason. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Buddy, do you know how to swim?”

I shuddered typing that, knowing what happens next! If you want to read Twisted Obsessionclick on the title. For all of February, the book is only 99 cents.

For all the writers out there, have you ever been scared of something you wrote? For all the readers out there, have you ever read a scene and felt some way about the author, wondering where that wild imagination came from?

Keep smiling,

Yawatta Hosby

Horror Interview With Yawatta Hosby

Oh my goodness, I’m so excited! Tonight reached my blog getting over 200,000 views! I can’t even believe it.  2011 began my blogging hobby. 2013 began my publishing journey. 2017 still going strong. What if I had given up on my dream? I can’t even imagine…

In celebration of Women’s Horror Month, I thought it’d be fun to interview myself, to share with you guys some of my deepest fears. That takes a lot of me because I’m a very private person.

Okay, here goes:

1. What’s your favorite horror movie?

Scream, hands down. I loved the slasher and pyschological aspect. Syd didn’t ask to be stalked. Syd didn’t ask for everyone around her to die, one by one. Syd just wanted to be a normal teenager and get through high school. Too bad her boyfriend had other plans…It was the first time I experienced a human as the monster in a movie.

In 1996, I was in junior high, 9th grade to be exact. That’s when the movie came out in theaters. Let me tell ya, I was beyond spooked. The murder scenes were gruesome, and the situation was something that could happen in real life. Someone obsessive could be plotting my death. Someone close to me could betray me in the worst way. I already have trust issues and keep my wall up. You can bet your bottom dollar I didn’t date in high school (the movie Fear and my shyness contributed to that also haha).

2. What’s the first horror book/story you remember reading?

Oh my goodness, I still remember this day like yesterday. I read one of R.L. Stine’s books on the couch at grandma’s house. She was watching her soaps. School had been cancelled. I was in the 7th grade.

The story was of a kid who had a ghost as a babysitter. The older lady terrorized the kid when he figured out her secret. I was breathing rapidly, sweating profusely, and trembling with fear. Even though I was scared, I couldn’t look away from the page. The scariest scene–the little boy looked out the second floor window and saw the ghost’s head floating outside…without the body attached!

No lie–to this day I’m afraid to look out a window.

3. What scares you?

I’m a huge scaredy cat. Here’s my long list in no particular order: showing weakness, getting attacked from behind, tornadoes, storms, fear of heights, water (fear of drowning), being mauled by a dog, ghosts, frogs and toads, insects, crazy people, antique dolls, knifes, guns, the woods, bears, mountain lions, birds, being stalked, cancer, crossing bridges, haunted tours, under my bed and closet (places the boogeyman can hide), and getting behind a wheel of a vehicle (fear of driving).

Surprisingly,  I’m not scared of snakes or mice.

4. Do you have any fun Halloween experiences?

My brother and I always had a competition of scaring each other. He was in junior high. We’re 13 years apart, I’m the oldest. I went to The Devil’s Den in Winchester, VA for a haunted tour, leaving RJ at home. He said he was going to the Haunted Fairgrounds. And, since I wouldn’t let his friend stay over, he said he would be back in the morning.

When I got home, it was pitch dark and freezing cold. Oh no had a ghost followed me home! Calming down and thinking a burglar broke a window, I searched the house, grabbing a hammer. In the hallway, I noticed all the bedroom doors closed. I went down in the basement, then I crept upstairs to the second floor.  Now, RJ’s door was cracked open. Holding the hammer over my head, I was prepared to use it. No flight response. I was prepared to fight.

I was on the top step. I paused, then tip toed to his door. I braced myself, sweat dripping from my forehead, my heart racing. Either I’d hurt the burglar or the burglar would kill me. I pushed the door open. RJ yelled “BOO” from the bathroom.

Let’s just say, I begged him to call his friend so he could stay. The more, the merrier. Mom was spending the night with her boyfriend. She only came home on the weekends. Turns out, RJ never went to the Haunted Fairgrounds. He waited for me, turning off the heat. He knew me well. Coming back from the haunted tour, I would walk into a freezing house and freak out, thinking a ghost followed me home.

I respected him after that prank. What did we do after that? We all watched The Unborn. No wonder I have nightmares quite often.

Keep smiling,

Yawatta Hosby

Books Similar To My Own (According to Amazon) Spotlights

Yitadee! It’s February 1st, the first day of Women’s Horror Month. In celebration, all of my horror and suspense books are only 0.99 cents. Check out My Amazon Page and grab something if you’re feeling in a mood to scare yourself.

Last night, I searched women horror authors who had books similar to mine. Thanks Amazon for having that ‘Customer Also Bought’ feature.

I’m sharing the three books I found interesting. Click on the author names, read more about them, and spread the love:

WILLOW ROSE is the Queen of Scream. She writes mystery/suspense/horror, paranormal romance, and fantasy. According to Amazon, her book Umbrella Man is similar to my One By One.

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If you like Stranger Things – you will love this!

In your dream, no one can hear you scream

When the body of the teenage boy, Julian Long, is discovered in the Green Swamps of Florida, the citizens of Bushlake know the city will never be the same again. Julian was popular, loved by all, and the circumstances of his death are more than strange.

What secrets is the boy in the swamps hiding?

Stephanie Boulder has returned to the town after fifteen years to take care of her grandmother, who is terminally ill. She writes for the local paper, and as soon as she starts digging into the story of Julian Long, she discovers secrets deep within the town’s history. Secrets so cruel, so profoundly buried, uncovering them will put her life in grave danger.

What if dreams were not just dreams? Would you dare to sleep again?

Desperate for answers, Stephanie embarks on a journey that spans beyond her beliefs, heading towards a terrifying nightmare, trying to figure out who the Umbrella Man is.

Umbrella Man is a page-turning supernatural thriller from the Queen of Scream, Willow Rose. It is fast paced and packed with suspense. This is one book you don’t want to miss.

****

S.M. BOYCE has a knack for discovering adventure and magic. According to Amazon, her book Ari (To Each His Ghost #1) is similar to my Twisted Obsession.

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A Ghostly Paranormal Horror Novel

The moment Ari Bowers stepped inside the abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of White Haven, Pennsylvania, she wanted to hightail it out of there like the ghost-fearing girl she was. Instead, she let her crush, Marcus Wagner, lead her into the shadows.

Oops.

As she predicted, they ran out screaming. But something followed her home.

Since that night, Ari is haunted by something she can’t see. It watches her when she sleeps. It caresses her in the shower. It carves words into her skin and lives alongside her, never satisfied with her terror. It always wants more, and Ari begins to fear it will take her and her date back to the farmhouse… forever.

For Ari and Marcus, it’s not a matter of whether or not monsters are real; It’s a life-or-death race to figure out which one is out to drag their souls to hell.

****

KIERSTEN MODGLIN is a psychological fanatic. She loves to write stories that explore the darkest parts of human nature and the inner workings of twisted minds. According to Amazon, her book The Truth About My Scratches is similar to my Plenty of Fish.

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Jaicey knows something terrible happened to her, but she isn’t sure what…

Jaicey Thomas doesn’t feel like an average seventeen-year-old girl. Quiet and awkward to a fault, her reserved nature is largely caused by the unanswered questions that surround her. Why have all of the mirrors in her house disappeared? Why won’t her family read newspapers? Why do her nightmares keep coming back? Why does she feel so afraid of everyone around her, and who can she trust?

When Brayden transfers to Jaicey’s school, he takes an immediate interest in her…

Jaicey makes it clear to Brayden that she’s not interested in a relationship, as just friends or otherwise, but he is determined to get to know her. Meanwhile, the mysteries surrounding Jaicey continue to grow and Brayden may be the only one who can help her find the truth…but will she be brave enough to let him in?

Alone and afraid, Jaicey searches for answers…

As she starts to uncover clues, she finds herself unlocking pieces of her memory, pieces that hold much more darkness than she bargained for. In a fight for her life once more, Jaicey must force herself to relive that terrible night all over again. The threat is still lurking…and he may be closer than she thinks.

With time running out and secrets deeper and darker than she could’ve ever imagined, will Jaicey finally be able to uncover the truth about her scratches?

***For all the readers out there, feel free to tell me what you thought of their or my books. Definitely come back and leave a comment!

Keep smiling,

Yawatta Hosby

Three Babes in the Woods by Yawatta Hosby

Three Babes in the Woods

by Yawatta Hosby

Copyright 2016

Three Babes in the Woods

If I shut my eyes, maybe Mommy will forget about me. I only need her to forget about me for about ten seconds. Well, I’m not very good with math, maybe it’s an hour. I squeeze my eyes tighter and tighter. And, I hug my red fuzzy Elmo tighter and tighter.

Elmo. Yikes! I throw him away from me in the back seat. He hits the side of the door with a thud. Oh no, the thud may get Mommy’s attention. I can’t open my eyes, so I can’t tell if she sees me or not.

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“You can see me?”

“Of course, honey, are you playing a game?”

I wish it was a game, but I’m scared to dea—Wait I don’t want to say death. Oh no, I said it by mistake. I don’t want to die. Maybe if I don’t answer Mommy she’ll forget about me.

“Honey?”

I open a eyeball. Mommy’s looking at me through the rearview mirror. I can’t hide anymore. I may die.

“…I throwed Elmo.”

“Why? He’s your favorite toy.”

“He’s scary.”

Mommy laughs. She stops when she sees I’m not laughing too. “Why is he scary?”

I hide under my coat by pulling it up over my head. Then I point out the window, afraid to see the scary sign. We go on this road every day to get home, and I didn’t know it was scary until yesterday. Bennie, my older cousin, warned me about Elmo leaving his three daughters in the woods to die. That the scary blue and yellow–I mean gold, is it gold or is it yellow? I haven’t learned all my colors yet in school–sign near the road is proof that it happened. Bennie says if I become a burden on Mommy and Daddy, then they may leave me in the woods to die too.

“What are you pointing at? The woods? You love the woods, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Did we passed the sign?”

“The sign? You know what the sign means?”

I stop hiding under my coat. Mommy needs to see me shake my head yes.

“Oh, Samantha, you’re too young to understand. How in the world did you hear about what that sign means?”

“I know-I know that Elmo killed his three daughters because they were a burden. Mommy, how does Elmo have daughters? Did he get married?” I reach out for Elmo. The seat belt cuts into my chest, but I manage to get him. Mommy needs to see who I’m talking about. No more lies, Mommy.

“You don’t have to be afraid of Elmo. He’s just a toy.” Mommy frowns. Oh no, is she lying?  “I wish I could’ve explained things when you’re older, but let me try to now. I don’t want you afraid. Nothing bad will happen to you, honey.”

“But-but something bad happened to those girls. They died in the woods. Can I die in the woods too?”

“I’ll do everything in my power to protect you. Me and your daddy.”

“If Elmo’s just a toy, then who killed those girls?”

“Elmo Noakes was a man from California. He took a road trip with his three daughters and girlfriend. They ended up here in Pennsylvania.”

“Why did he kill them, Mommy?”

“In 1934, I want to say it was the Great Depression, but I’m not sure. I was never good in History class. I think… Mr. Noakes was a desperate man. He couldn’t afford to support his family…it was a tragedy, but you have to know me and your daddy love you very much. You never have to worry about us abandoning you.”

“Even if I’m a burden?”

“You’ll never be a burden to us, honey. Never.”

Did Elmo ever tell his daughters that? What if Mommy changes her mind? Bennie said it could happen at anytime. I never want to go camping again. I never want to drive on this road again. I never want any fur coats either.

And, I hate the color green. Green used to be my favorite color, but not anymore. Those three girls were found by a green blanket. Why couldn’t it have been a blue blanket? The awful scary color blue. Scary blue and scary yellow or scary gold. I really need to learn my colors.

My best friend in pre-school is scared of frogs. My cousin is scared of dogs. My little sister is scared of the boogeyman. I’m scared of Mommy and Daddy, thanks to my cousin Bennie. I’m scared to die. What if I become a burden and they decide to leave me in the woods to die? What if Mommy is lying about Elmo? I look at my red fuzzy toy. Is he going to kill me? Is he going to leave me in the woods to die if I become a burden?

What does burden even mean? I’m scared to ask Mommy. She may lie. Shutting my eyes tight doesn’t help me disappear. I’ll have to come up with something else. Only when we take this scary road that passes that scary blue and yellow—or is it gold?—sign. The sign that says On This Spot Were Found Three Babes in the Woods. Nov.-24-1934. The only reason I remember is because last night my cousin Bennie made me say it out loud a billion times until it stuck in my head.

How can I disappear? And what does burden mean? I’ll ask Bennie the next time I see him.

THE END

Free Books for the Holidays!!!

How is it already mid-December? Geez Louise! I hope everyone is staying warm and reading an entertaining book.

To celebrate the holidays, I’m offering three of my ebooks for free on Amazon until December 17th! It’ll give readers a chance to try my stuff or give their friends a free gift.

Happy Reading!!!

Just click on the book titles to download free books:

Keep smiling,

Yawatta Hosby

 

Nico’s Blood by Yawatta Hosby

Nico’s Blood

by Yawatta Hosby

Copyright 2016

Deanna slammed the bathroom door shut as someone pounded on her front door. She muttered under her breath, exhausted with the morning’s events. She could only hold the producer off for a couple more minutes–she was under contract after all.

She walked towards the door, her hand on the knob. Before she opened it, she happened to glance down at her shirt and gasped.

Blood stains all over her gray v-neck!

“I’m coming,” she yelled through the door, then proceeded into her bedroom. In the hallway, she made sure to pause for a moment to stare at the bathroom door.

Could she pull this off?

Her freedom depended on it.

It didn’t take long for her to change into different clothes. Within a minute, the producer, camera man and sound guy of the popular reality tv show Married At First Glance were in her living room, setting up equipment. Deanna dreaded filming days–her “husband” Nico was such an asshole. Where had the casting director found him?

Deanna and the producer sat on the couch. She offered him something to drink but he refused.

She glanced at the sound guy who was taping a small microphone onto a lamp near the wall by the bathroom!

Deanna’s heart beat quickened.

A few steps further and he may open the bathroom door! It’s not like she could stop him. Or could she?

“I’m sorry to say, but Nico isn’t here.”

The producer rolled his eyes. It’s not like this wasn’t a common occurrence. Nico believed in the philosophy that every rule had loopholes. Like he could be “married” on a tv show but during non-filming days leave to screw his ex-girlfriend who had conveniently found love for him again since he became a star. “Where is he?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.”

“I’ll be right back.” The producer stepped out of the living room into the kitchen in a haste, frantically whispering into his cell.

Good. The kitchen was far from the bathroom. She looked over at the sound guy again–he’d made his way closer to the bathroom door!

Deanna slumped into the cushions, her arms wrapped tightly around her body. She was too afraid of showing nervousness by fidgeting. Just then, her feet kept tapping the wooden floor. Just then, a bead of sweat fell into her eyes, stinging her vision. Just then, a tear fell down her cheek. Just then, the smell of blood invaded her nostrils.

She breathed heavily again. No stop that. Take deep breaths. Act normal, damnit.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she took deep breaths and counted slowly to ten. The long winded kind…one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Mississippi, four-Mississippi, five-Mississippi, six-Mississippi, seven-Mississippi, eight-Mississippi, nine-Mississippi, ten-Mississippi.

When she opened her eyes again, the producer was standing in front of her, looking down at her with an amused expression dancing within his eyes and smile. “I couldn’t get ahold of him,” he had hesitated as if he was debating if he could get away with teasing her or sticking to just the professional banter they’ve always had.

Sexual harassment was a sticky situation, after all.

Deanna gulped, wiping her eyes, trying to stop the stinging to no prevail. She gave a nervous grin when the producer sat beside her again.

Even though he wore cologne, all she could smell was blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Nico’s blood…

All she had to do was stall long enough for them to leave once they realized they couldn’t film without the “couple.” All she had to do was hold it together. Hold it together, Deanna, her thoughts mocked her.

Or was it Nico playing tricks in her mind? Like he was haunting her from the grave? His grave–the bathtub.

What a mess!

But he deserved it!

Deanna got a little kick out of that thought and gave a wicked grin. Catching herself, she bit her bottom lip and turned her face away from the producer.

Keep it together, Deanna.

Stop mocking me, Nico! You suck, you dead bastard!

“Are you okay, Deanna?”

Afraid her voice may betray her, Deanna simply nodded. She braced herself (thank goodness for meditation and yoga lessons) then met the producer’s gaze, as if nothing had ever happened.

As if there was no dead body in the bathtub.

Did she even remember to close the shower curtain to hide the evidence in case someone walked in?

Did you remember, you stupid bitch?

Nico stop mocking me! Nico, you dead stupid bastard!

“So…I don’t want to get him into trouble but I haven’t seen him all night. He never came home.”

“Do you think he’s at her place?”

Deanna liked how the producer said “her” as if the ex-girlfriend’s name coming from his lips would be a betrayal of her trust.

Deanna was the laughing stock of this social experiment. She heard through the grapevine that the other two contestants got amazing, attentive husbands, so why did she get the jackass?

I’m not a jackass!

Shut up, Nico! Nico, you dead rotten bastard!

Come in the bathroom and make me. Make sure someone follows you in here!

“Shut up!” Deanna covered her hand over her mouth, realizing she said it out loud.

Damn you, Nico! Damn you, you dead rotten bastard!

“I’m sorry to mention it. Don’t worry we’ll find Nico.” The producer hesitated before patting Deanna quickly on the arm. He leaned over to whisper, “Don’t worry. We’ll give Nico the bad edit, but I’ll deny ever saying it if you blab that secret to anyone.” He winked.

Deanna’s heartbeat calmed down. She gave a genuine smile, pleased that the producer was on her side.

“And if you don’t?”

“We will. There’s no show without the stars.” The producer winked again.

Deanna wondered if winking was his go-to defense mechanism in a crisis.

Oh no, she hadn’t been paying attention to the sound guy. It only took a second. A second for her life to be over. A second for someone to find her haunting secret.

She had to get them out quickly!

“Should you go looking for him?”

“I have assistants for that.”

She bit her bottom lip. There was no way they’d stay the full hours required to film, would they?

Would they? Would they? Would they? They smell the blood too! They’re just toying with me!

“Oh okay.” Deanna tried to hold the producer’s gaze but failed. She scanned the room. Camera guy by the door. Mic guy still by the damn bathroom! Producer on the couch.

She rested her sight on the mic guy. When  he looked at her, she said, “Would you like to sit?”

He leaned into the wall. “I’m okay, ma’am. Thanks though.”

Ha Ha!

Shut up, Nico! Nico, you dead rotten bastard!

“Please sit down. It’d make me more comfortable.” She hated that she had to nag him but it was the only way. He had to sit. What if Nico was right? What if guys who stood did have a sudden urge to pee?

She only had one bathroom!

The bathroom with her dead “husband” spawned in the bathtub–guts and blood pouring out of his body like a sausage.

Deanna gave a wicked grin. She was happy that the mic guy attempted to stand up from the wall. Before he could move, the producer said, “You guys can take a break.”

“Thanks boss.” The boys didn’t hesitate to leave her apartment. Two down. One more to go. The stubborn producer.

He’ll save me! You killed me! You killed me, Deanna, and you will pay for it!

Shut up, Nico! Shut up, you damn rotten dead bastard!

More sweat fell down her forehead. “What happens if you don’t find him? Seriously.”

“If he doesn’t show up soon, I have no choice but to call Mr. Poe and get my ass chewed out over spoiled Nico.” The producer patted Deanna on the arm again. “But it won’t come to that. He’ll come. I know it.”

Blood invaded Deanna’s nostrils again. She glanced over at the bathroom door. The door that taunted her.

Open me. Open me. Open me. You know you want to. Look at your bloody masterpiece. Come on, you know you want to. Ha ha!

Shut up, Nico! Stop taunting me. You dead rotten bastard!

“Do you need a break? I mean, I don’t want them to get the wrong idea with you alone with me.” She was desperate, pulling the fear card. Her life was at stake.

All because of Nico. Nico, the dead rotten bastard.

The producer gave a poker face and stood up, avoiding Deanna’s gaze. “I should take a break. I’ll be back soon.”

Yes, he’s walking away! I win! I win, Nico, Nico–you dead rotten bastard!

It was perfect. She stared at the producer’s back, he never glanced back, his hand on the knob.

Turn it. Turn it, damnit.

But he just stood there with his back still facing her. Seconds seemed like an eternity. She counted to ten–the long winded kind…one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Mississippi, four-Mississippi, five-Mississippi, six-Mississippi, seven-Mississippi, eight-Mississippi, nine-Mississippi, ten-Mississippi.

Like a horror movie with the most intense scene being played in slow motion with the creepy music in the background to give the full effect, the producer turned around. “Before I leave, can I use your bathroom?”

Noooooooooo!

Yessssssssss! Ha ha! Justice after all!

Shut up, Nico! Shut up, you dead rotten bastard!

Deanna stood. If she had to, she’d physically block the door. The door that haunted her. The door that taunted her. The door that smelled of Nico’s blood. Nico, the dead bloody bastard. “The toilet’s broke.”

Taken aback, the producer said, “Oh, well I can look over it. My dad’s a plumber.”

Noooooooooo!

Yessssssssss!

Shut up, Nico! Shut up, you dead rotten bastard! I’ll make sure to hide your body so no one can ever find you. No proper burial for you. No closure for you or your spoiled family.

Good luck with that. He’s going to save the day. I knew there was a reason I liked him.

Shut up, Nico! Shut up, Nico, you dead rotten bloody bastard!

Noooooooooo!

Yessssssssss!

The producer shifted his stance to his left foot. “Well? Do you want me to look at your toilet?”

Yessssssssss!

Noooooooooo!

Yessssssssss!

Noooooooooo! “Noooooooooo!” Deanna coughed. “I mean no. No offense but I’d rather have a professional look at it.”

She sighed in relief when the producer sheepishly exited her apartment. The apartment with the bathroom door that haunted her. The door that taunted her…The door that smelled of blood. Nico’s blood. Nico, the dead rotten bloody bastard.

THE END