Guest Blog and Giveaway with Debora Woody

Name: Shroud Of Beckoning
Subtitle: Part 1 of the Ice Water Mansion Series
Author: Debora Woody
Publication Date: February 2009
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Distributor: AuthorHouse, 1-888-280-7715, http://www.authorhouse.com/
ISBN: SC-9781418484118 / E-Book-9781420808230 / HC- 9781438963167
Number of Pages: 351
A Fictional Suspense Thriller with a Supernatural/Paranormal overtone

For more information, visit my web sites;
http://www.shroudofbeckoning.com/
http://www.debwoody.com/

With thousands of different ways to write about the same idea, the end result is millions of books to choose from, so why might Shroud Of Beckoning be worth buying? Well, although Shroud Of Beckoning delves into the age-old tale of good verses evil, its distinction from other novels is that it depicts a tale of childhood innocence mingling with epic evil forces by applying brilliant psychological detail, thus, apprehending readers into a world of demonic darkness. Transposing everyday occurrences into supernatural situations, hidden agendas, underlying conflicts about missing children, and personal catastrophes draw the reader deeper into this uniquely thought-out story about how evil tries to break, not only lonesome children, but also a well-loved police officer. Then, how the good attempts to intervene in unsuspecting ways inadvertently creating a whole new set of problems.

Initially written to pass the time between jobs when the military relocated my family from California to Arkansas, the story blossomed after I became a police officer and experienced a whole new set of life’s travesties. Handling calls in the seedy portion of town, as well as the middle and upper class, I discovered one common denominator—with all the surrounding misery, a child could often crack a smile while carrying on as if nothing had gone wrong. Even the ones who displaced their emotions with a great wall of denial still had a semblance of a smile. While the adult was falling apart, the child was playing with their dolls, army men, or stuffed animals. Drawn to watch closer, I was entranced how they carried on conversations with an unseen person. Something I took for granted with my own daughter and her imaginary friend, Nathanael, but it provided the missing touch to twist my ‘already creepy story’ into a book of emotional terror.

Now, every story with a villain needs a viable adversary. After spending a career in law enforcement—beginning at sixteen as a police explorer, then Air Force security police, various security agencies, and a police officer in Arkansas, I saw the ins and outs, good and bad, and what makes or breaks an officer. Therefore, to me, what better adversary for this thieving imaginary friend to have—a police officer. A fact seeking logical individual who is bound to uphold the truth and fight injustice.

Police officers spend many hours writing reports on abuse, assaults, robberies, etc., but there are just as many idle hours that needs occupying. Running radar and preying upon stop signs or red light violators can only take up just so much time, but even then, the officer must stay alert to stay alive. Therefore, I’d get out of my rolling office and walk (or when I was lucky, ride the bike) to chitchat with whoever was out, thus, each and every interaction helped create the Ice Water Mansion Series. Although most officers, for that fact, people in general, will never openly admit this, there are things that happen that just can’t be logically explained—unless they want to end up in a psych ward. Infusing some of these oddities into my series, I took care to ensure that it was realistic and as believable as possible.

Authors say their book is a page-turner, suspenseful, and breathtaking. Thus far, readers of Shroud Of Beckoning agrees. I also have three actual reviews posted at http://www.Amazon.com . I believe that a person can repeatedly read this series while becoming one with the characters and find something new each time because you can sink your teeth, well, mind into this story. One to keep you on the edge of your chair, shed tears, and give you nightmares while making you view what’s going on around you differently. Without spoiling book one, although tastefully done, there is emotional and graphic violence, sexual scenes, and rape that keeps this book/series for readers over 18. Even with this disclaimer, the weak-minded adult might want to think twice prior to reading this series.

Brief synopsis of Shroud Of Beckoning:

Blending the supernatural world with the essence of daily life, Woody transports readers back to the spring of 1964 to begin her tale of good vs. evil. Within a dysfunctional family in California, four-year-old Carla lives with her older sister, parents, and a secret friend. Clad in black, this precocious apparition poses as a friendly playmate. However, Schatten is no ordinary companion—he's pure evil and feeds off human souls. When Carla cries and seethes, his outward features rejuvenate. In turn, when she laughs and finds love, he ages into a hideous form that terrorizes her. Deceiving her into believing she's his only friend, he actually knows her sister, mother, and others, but unlike them, Carla is bait to help find a boy's soul, Tony, who his adversaries stole from him years before.

Adding a new addition to the family, Carla's mother gives birth to a son who Carla instantly loves. Unfortunately, this pushes Schatten to plot the baby's demise, resulting in Officer Jarred Blanton arriving to investigate. Blanton, a well-loved man with a good family, is everything Schatten despises and must destroy to keep his plans on track, but in doing so, he alters his own plans and creates a chain of events that intertwines Blanton's life with Carla's.

As Carla and Blanton embark on a horrific path to save their very souls, Woody chronicles their dark stories while everything and everyone they love is slowly destroyed because Schatten will never stop until their souls are his and Tony is found.

Excerpt of Shroud Of Beckoning:

Back downstairs, they could smell the pungent odor again, but this time, the odor took them into a hallway off the living room. Shining their flashlights down the hall, they saw ten or so hung paintings that led to French doors at the end. Midway down the hall, there were two open doors opposite each other.

Straining to hear a voice or a sound, Jarred heard nothing, not even the odd chanting. His awkward gait made him stumble into a painting of a sad girl in a red dress whose black eyes hid amid brown bangs. Her right hand was on the arm of a high-back brown chair; her left hand was up, as if trying to touch the artist. After Jarred tried to rub away a building headache behind his bloody gash, his bloody fingers touched her painted fingers, which he swore began reaching toward him. Looking down, he saw colorful flower petals amid a foggy haze on the red carpet.

Curious, he picked some petals up and squeezed their odd freshness between his calloused fingertips. Unable to resist, he inhaled their scent, which made his exhaling breath opaque in the chilly air. When an out-of-place emotion told him to flee, he didn’t listen. Instead, he continued down the hallway of painted children that studied his every step, anticipated his every move, heard his every thought, and savored his every emotion.

Busy glancing into the rooms opposite each other, which Jarred had already checked, Ty didn’t see Jarred staring at a painting of a sad girl, whose painted nostrils flared as she inhaled Jarred’s exhaled breath. Jarred didn’t know why he did this, but his bloody fingers touched her lips as they mouthed, “Thank you.” Then without thinking, he whispered, “You’re welcome.” The instant that he turned away, the girl’s painted fingertips stretched the tight threads of her canvas in a selfish bid to touch his aura.

Stopping at the next painting, he stepped back to get a better view. Behind him, hazy fingers slithered out of a ripped canvas and accidentally touched his shaggy hairline. Certain that Ty had touched him, Jarred whirled the shotgun around. “Aanson, if you fucking touch me aga …” He didn’t finish when he saw that Aanson was nearly four feet away. Feeling caught, he lowered the shotgun as his tingling back fell against the ripped painting. Rubbing his neck, his shaky fingers slid over the childhood scar behind his ear, then over the fur on his coat collar. He had to drag a breath into his lungs, but his tight vest limited it. Across from where he stood, his blurry eyes saw a little girl’s oily hand motioning him closer. Shaking his head at the unbelievable sight, he was beginning to believe he did have a concussion after all.

“Officer Blanton, what did you say?” Ty saw Jarred leaning against a painting. However, he didn’t see the boy’s hazy hands hovering around him or flower petals blowing over his boots

As Jarred kept an eye on the girl trying to push her way out of her canvas, he cracked out, “Nothing.” Behind him, he was unaware of the boy’s fingers stroking the tips of his hair.



For a chance to win an autographed copy of Shroud Of Beckoning, answer this question about your childhood in the comments section; who was your imaginary friend and how did you interact with him or her? Come on now, we all know you had one. Oh, you still have one! Well, tell us about the one you still have.

USA entries only, ensure you include your email address so, if chosen, I’ll know where to contact you.

For those who do take the time to leave a comment, but does not win the copy of Shroud Of Beckoning, don’t fret, your time won’t be wasted. Everyone who leaves a comment, (prior to November 10, 2009) a small token of appreciation will be bestowed within your snail mail with an envelope containing several Shroud Of Beckoning bookmarks and wallet calendars.

Just ensure you leave email address so I can contact you to obtain further mailing addresses.