Welcome M.R. Gott today

 WTDFTT_SM Hi and welcome to my blog, M.R. Gott. Please make yourself at home and grab a drink from my hunky cabana boys, Zeke and Jake.  So tell us a little about yourself.

First, Please tell Zeke to bring me your darkest porter and Jake to follow it up with a stout.  I am a recently published novelist.  My goal in writing is to elicit a reaction from my audience and leave them with an experience that is not soon forgotten.

To get us started can you tell us a little about what you are working on or have coming out? 

My first novel Where the Dead Fear to Tread was recently released from Untreed Publishing.  It is the first in what became a trilogy that I am referring to as the Legacy of the Devourer.  The second two books are completely drafted.  The tentative title for the sequel is Where the Damned Fear Redemption.

How would you describe yourself using only five words? 

I am an evolved fatalist.

If you could write a warning label for yourself as a person or an author, what would it say? 

I write horror tales with the intent to make you squirm, and elicit fear as a response.  Marc Nocerino, of She Never Slept called my novel, Where the Dead Fear to Tread “frantic, horrific, brutal, and without doubt the darkest thing I have read in years. Maybe in my life. Noir doesn’t even come close to describing it, not even in the most literal translation of noir as Black. This book is darker than black, it is the color of the void at the center of a singularity. Where The Dead Fear To Tread makes the Satanic Bible read like a light Sunday romance in comparison.”

Overall the reviews I have read share this sentiment to various degrees.  I work to develop situations that test my characters both physically and emotionally.

All authors have their favorite rejection stories.  One I would share is that a horror publisher had a short story of mine kicking around their office, for quite some time.  I kept getting cryptic emails about this editor sending the story to that editor, as though I understood their office politics.  The final email I received was that the story was just too much.  The final editor told me they were physically shaking as they read it.

Do you have any guilty pleasures? 

All pleasures are guilty.  The most decadent for myself would probably be ice cream cake while watching obscene cartoons such as Venture Bros, and American Dad.

Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you. 

Despite the graphic violence in my work, I abhor the all too common violence in the world around us.  As a bit of a news junkie (better than smack) I am constantly appalled not only by acts of physical aggression but the usage of words used only to harm and defame.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? 

This may be a copout but I would say it’s not where you are, but who you are surrounded by.  Though if there is too much snow I may just abandon you.

How do you get yourself in the mood to write? 

I need to have enough physical energy to focus, but not so much that I can’t sit still.  Ideally I like to write after exercising.  My senses feel sharp and I am still running off my endorphin high.

Can you share with us your typical writing day.  Is there anything you have to have while writing? 

Coffee, and music.  I cannot abide silence.  My mind cannot be turned off, so I need music in the background.  Coffee doesn’t give me the buzz it gives others, it actually helps me focus.

Who are some of your favorite authors? 

So many, and it is an eclectic list.  I have learned to appreciate various authors, not for who I wish they were but who they are.  Clive Barker and Raymond Chandler would come to the top for me as well as Ian McEwan and Phillip Roth.

What is in your To Read Pile that you are dying to start or upcoming release you can’t wait for?

This Book Is Full of Spiders: Seriously,Dude,Don’t Touch It by David Wong.  John Dies at the End blew me away, so the sequel has my attention.


Is there something special you do to celebrate when one of your books is released? 

I ordered a coffee mug with my cover art on it.

Do you have a favorite TV show you can’t miss? 

I have been watching the Simpsons for two decades and will probably have a difficult time adjusting whenever it is cancelled.

If you could date any character from any book, who would it be and why-no it doesn’t have to be from your books?

Judy from Edward Lee’s The Golem.  She is attracted to nerds, plays video games passionately and likes to walk around the house naked.

What is the strangest source of writing inspiration you’ve ever had?

I draw constantly from the world I see around me.  Sometimes it is the look of a person, or a sentence fragment I hear from them.

If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell?

He/she would probably expose the dark cynical nature of my work stems from an inability to truly comprehend the dark, vile despicable way humankind treats itself.


WTDFTT_SMTeaser of Where Dead Fear to Tread by M.R. Gott

Untreed Publishing

Horror,  Mystery, Contemporary

Buy at  http://store.untreedreads.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6_205&products_id=205

A police officer and a serial killer search separately for a missing child while running a malevolent labyrinth populated by creatures they never knew existed.

Former prosecutor William Chandler, disgusted with his past inaction, spills the blood of those who victimize children to correct the ills he sees in the world. A self-admitted serial killer and uncomfortable with his actions, Chandler attends the funerals of those whose lives he has taken in an effort to retain a true understanding of the nature of violence.

The carnage left in his wake is investigated by Detective Kate Broadband, who becomes progressively more comfortable with the corpses left by Chandler. Envying the power she sees in him, she pursues Chandler as each search for Maria Verde, a missing eight-year-old girl.

As Chandler and Broadband draw closer to discovering what happened to Maria they are forced to confront The Devourer, an unnatural being trafficking in stolen children.

Where the Dead Fear to Tread is a tale of hard-boiled macabre, bridging numerous genres to reveal a story of horror, crime and revenge.


William Chandler knows the outcome of the situation is fixed. He sits in a restaurant dubbed “The Mighty Hammer” in a building inhabited by some of the worst this city has bred. The restaurant is closed but five men remain and William sits down at a table to negotiate with them. He’s never met any of them yet he recognizes them, he knows what they are. Their names are not important, he knows their past and that means he knows their futures. The unknown yet familiar men have frisked William and taken his large duffel bag full of children’s clothes at the door, but they have not examined it. They all wear expensive clothes in an effort to appear more important than they are and each man slouches, jacket hanging open, displaying a shoulder holster and the eight pound piece of metal that gives him a sense of security. The visible weapons give William a sense of security as well, because he believes a man with a hidden weapon is more dangerous than a man using one as a decoration.

They want William to see their guns, to be intimidated by them. In the darkened dining area the weapons catch and reflect what little light there is and are illuminated in the shadows. William does not in any way match his companions at the table. He is wearing a simple white shirt tucked into black pants and the top button of his shirt is open, allowing his powerful neck room to breathe. William’s elbows rest on the table and his fingers are interlocked, fidgeting with his wedding band. His fingertips caress the metal band as he decides, step by step, each action he will take to achieve the outcome he is committed to.

The men around him have their hair greased and slicked back. William has shaved both his face and skull that morning, as always. None of the five men mention the scar that begins under William’s left eye and works its way around his ear, down the back of his neck and beneath his shirt collar.

Staring at the glass of whiskey before him, William ignores the noise his hosts make. The five men are explaining why he should pay such a high price per “unit.” Men such as these, devoid of a true education, tend to create their own language in order to make what they do seem more important. William hears only fragments of their conversation.

“…collecting locally…”

“…96 month old female…”

“…recently acquired shipment.”

“…may be young but knows enough to moan while you’re inside ’em.”

Two of the men sit on either side of William, sandwiching him in a further attempt to make him feel vulnerable, while the three on the opposite side of the table continue their sales pitch. Their words are worthless. William has already made all the decisions he is going to make tonight. He will not be persuaded or deterred by the likes of such men. The man to William’s left puts his still lit cigar in the ashtray, unaware that he will be the catalyst of what is coming. William closes his eyes, breathing in deeply, filling his lungs before he opens his eyes. He slowly releases his breath, fully aware of his body.

Reaching for a bottle of whiskey at the table’s center, William deliberately spills the contents and curses for effect. The men beside him both scoot back, raising their hands to avoid the spill. The contents of the bottle flow across the table. William apologizes as he reaches with his napkin to control the mess, and knocks the ashtray over. The napkin is lit from the burning embers of the stoked cigar. William drops the burning napkin into the whiskey and a flame erupts from the center of the table.

All five men instantly move back, shielding their eyes from the sudden flames. William reaches into the exposed jacket of the surprised man on his left and grabs his pistol with his right hand. As he drags the barrel across that man’s neck he fires. The force knocks the man out of his chair and the bullet removes a quarter of his neck from his body. Blood pours onto the flaming table as the corpse falls backward and onto the floor.

William swings the revolver toward the man on his right while watching the men across the table. Without taking his eyes off them William fires into the temple of the man beside him, shattering his skull and erasing his existence. The smell of burnt blood fills the air as the flames leap higher and cast flickering shadows across the chaos.

The second man’s remains drop and so does William as the three men across from him draw their weapons. Their guns erupt, bullets flying across the table through the growing flames, aimed towards where William no longer sits. Crouching beneath the table now, William systematically fires three rounds, catching each man in the stomach. Bile and digestive acids spill into their bodies and their guts split and burn from within. The three men clutch their stomachs in agony.

The revolver William holds contains only a single round and he needs more ammunition. Reaching toward the second corpse, he finds and removes an automatic pistol. With a pistol in each hand, William stays crouched under the table as the three wounded men fight their pain and attempt to locate their assailant. The trio curses each other, themselves and William, especially William, the stranger that has so unexpectedly turned them into victims. They speak in a butchered language of broken dreams, as their time draws to an end.

Their hollow threats calm them while betraying their location. William rises deliberately with a gun in each hand, one aimed at the man on the left, the other on the man on the right. Both weapons fire simultaneously, catching their respective targets in the face and silencing their curses.

William drops the revolver and aims the automatic at the remaining man, then extinguishes him as swiftly as he did the four others. The evening’s last shot echoes. Surrounded by the bloodshed he has created, William feels neither accomplishment nor guilt. To him this is simply the inevitable conclusion to a violent life. William stares for a moment into the growing flame, his heart slowing against his heaving chest.

He crouches, frisking the corpse he took the automatic pistol from. William removes a spare clip from the holster he finds on the body, ejects the used magazine and replaces it with eight new rounds. With the chambered round he has nine bullets. His hand, holding the warm weapon, drops to his side as he surveys the burning restaurant.



Release Blitz for Joanne Kendrick

THREESOME SWEETNESS Releases 9th November 2012

Book three in the bestselling Irish Kisses series.

Bell’s Irish Pub, where the drinks are cool and the service is HAWT. Tasty treats await you.


PAIRINGS: m/f/m m f/m


GENRE: contemporary romance

PUBLISHER: http://www.decadentpublishing.com



A shot of Threesome Sweetness stirs up emotions….

Elizabeth, a part-time manager of Bell’s Irish Pub and business student, is newly hitched. Her marriage could use a serious shake up, but she finds shopping a more therapeutic use of her time.

If Todd’s wife is happy, he’s happy. But it seems nothing is putting a sweet smile on her face these days, not even her friends at Bell’s. So he contacts 1NightStand and arranges the one thing he knows she doesn’t necessarily want but definitely needs for her thirtieth birthday; a threesome.

Enter cowboy Cade, who’s in London, England hoping to make a restaurant franchise deal. After weeks of doors slamming shut, he uses the 1Night Stand agency in hopes of sprinkling some fun over his overseas business trip and perhaps to learn what he’s missing out on by being relationship shy.

A harmless night of intimacy is planned.

Is a dash of Threesome Sweetness the remedy each is looking for, or will the date leave a bitter aftertaste each will regret for the rest of their lives?


AMAZON US: http://www.amazon.com/Irish-Kisses/lm/R2WFCBFWNDA9ZI 

MORE BUYLINKS: http://www.joannekenrick.com/p/threesome-sweetness.html

A swoon tease

Strutting the length of the suite, he wore nothing but a cowboy hat and a smile. Cocky bastard. She had insisted he leave it on. Heat twisted and turned within, saturating her inside out as she skimmed the length of him from behind her lashes. From his ruggedly handsome face and strong jaw line, to the beads of sweat glistening on his rippled chest, she was tempted to trace her hand over his ass.

He turned his head and set his gaze upon her, looking like one of those heroes from one of Sandra’s romance covers. Except without pants. Her pulse quickened.

“Ma’am.” He dipped his hat, shading his stare with the dark shadow caused by the rim of the Stetson. “Said you wanted more excitement in your life on your 1Night Stand profile. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”


Sweet Irish Kiss, book 1

Shamrocked, book 2

Coming November 30th 2012


Hot winter kisses are all this couple needs to stay warm this Christmas, but will the heat stay long after the magical season of mistletoe has finished?


Author bio:

Born n bred Brit, JoAnne Kenrick grew up in a wee sea-side town in North Wales and has enjoyed a variety of vocations such as holistic healer, window dresser, and ghost tour guide. Having lived in Wales, England, and Scotland with her dear family, she finally escaped the dull British summers to reside in sunny Australia. After two years, they moved to the States where she endured three harsh winters in Minnesota. She now lives in North Carolina with her husband, two kids and two puddy cats. When they aren’t demanding her attention, or jumping on her head, she strums away on the keys of her little laptop, creating worlds and adventures she could only ever dream of. Come across the pond and faraway….with JoAnne Kenrick! http://www.joannekenrick.com

Get exclusive sneak peeks at her new and upcoming releases by signing up to her quarterly newsletter here: http://tinyletter.com/joannekenrick



Guest Author Day with Ann Mayburn

Hi and welcome to my blog, Ann Mayburn. Please make yourself at home and grab a drink from my hunky cabana boys, Zeke and Jake. 

How would you describe yourself using only five words? 

Spazztic, imaginative, compassionate, devoted, daydreamer

If you could write a warning label for yourself as a person or an author, what would it say? 

Warning: Ann Mayburn has the crass sense of humor of a twelve year old boy compounded by the sarcasm of a Brit. Any and all things said by Ann Mayburn should be taken with a grain of salt, a squirt of lime, and a shot of tequila.

Do you have any guilty pleasures? 

Chocolate chip cookies!

Name one thing readers would be surprised to know about you.

I have a secret obsession with Hello Kitty.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? 

The Outer Banks of North Carolina in the summer and a private island in the Caribbean in the winter.

How do you get yourself in the mood to write? 

I put on my headphones and let myself get carried away by my music station of choice on Pandora. I’ve found that different books require different music. For example, Princess of Lust has some really steamy sex scenes and I found music by Nine Inch Nails really worked well for setting the tone.

What is in your To Read Pile that you are dying to start or upcoming release you can’t wait for?

I read so much that my To Read Pile is actually quite small. I can’t wait for the next book in Joey W. Hill’s Vampire Queen series, Taken by a Vampire.

Is there something special you do to celebrate when one of your books is released? 

Does having a nervous breakdown count?

Do you have a favorite TV show you can’t miss? 

Saddly, Tosh.0

If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell?

That I have issues with sticking to just one book. New and shiny plots are always popping into my head and I have to focus on finishing the work at hand before I go play in a new imaginary world.


Princess of Lust by Ann Mayburn

Decadent Publishing

For the Love of Evil, Book 2

Buy at http://www.decadentpublishing.com/product_info.php?products_id=659&osCsid=0hv0nqf6361f9uacnbtit9e2d2

The drums of war are beating in both Heaven and Hell and only the love of a half-demon Princess, Natalia, can stop the oncoming slaughter. Unfortunately, Princess Natalia has her hands full trying to keep her human concubine from killing her demon lovers, in addition to learning how to survive the deadly pleasures and politics of the Court of Lust.

With the abuse of opium increasing in the mortal world, High Prince Belal, ruler of the Deadly Sin Sloth, is gaining power by the  day and threatens to soon rule all of Hell. In a desperate attempt to curb Belal’s powers, Natalia is sent to mortal earth to stop what has been prophesied to be a major turning point in the war. Cut off from her men in Hell, Natalia soon realizes that all is not as it seems.

What may have at first been a blessing has become a curse.



She followed the psychic threads of their link, going through the large formal sitting area, down a hallway, and finally reaching her library. At the entrance to the room, she paused and took a moment to admire Gregor. He sat looking off into the distance in his favorite padded leather chair, facing the paneled windows. While she feared heights, he seemed to enjoy being able to see the intricate quilt of her father’s kingdom spread before them.

The deep auburn tones of his hair caught the light streaming through the window, and she longed to run her fingers through the rough silk. During his time in Hell, he’d been outdoors frequently and the slight tan to his skin seemed darker, especially in contrast to the unearthly pale tones of demons. Around his neck lay a gold collar made of links interspaced with dragon skin. A small swirling pattern of diamonds and sapphires made up the centerpiece of the choker. This, her personal mark, identified Gregor as belonging to her. Compared to some of the other collars she’d seen, it was simple but it suited her.

Gregor tilted his head slightly to the side, his rough features catching the light and throwing his profile into deep shadows. “I missed you last night. Though I’m not surprised you went to him instead of me.”

She flushed as the accusation hung in the air, his jealousy surging through their link and hurting her heart. Leaning against the doorway, she crossed her arms over her chest and watched him carefully. “I wasn’t with Raum last night.”

A small amount of tension went out of his shoulders. “Then you were with Eline.”


He surged from the chair, knocking it over in his haste. Anger and disgust curled his handsome features as he gripped his hands into fists at his sides. “Another! How many men do you plan—?”

“Enough!” The word exploded from her, carrying a hint of the demonic power that still slept in her soul. It echoed through the room as if she’d screamed inside of a rock cavern. Taking a deep breath, she said in a much softer tone, “I wasn’t with another man.”

Gregor took a step forward, then another as his nostrils flared. Finally, he stood right next to her and placed his face against the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent. His voice came out in a grating rumble next to her skin as he said, “I don’t smell either of them on you. The scent is almost…sweet.”

She stepped past him into the library and started to straighten the chair he’d turned over. Before she could do more than touch it, he was at her side and lifting it for her. Without another word, he took a seat in the chair and pulled her into his lap, pressing his face against her chest. “I missed you. Who was she?”

“The Queen of the Succubi.”

He laughed softly then harder, until she was glad he’d sat down or he would have fallen over with her in his arms. “Really? Next time can I watch?”



Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she’s been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

From a young age she’s been fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that often was the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she’s never looked back.

Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her ‘sexy space’ and has learned to type one handed while soothing a cranky baby.



Website: http://www.annmayburn.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ann.mayburn.5?ref=tn_tnmn

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AnnMayburn

Happy Birthday to Amber Kell/Mikela Chase


Happy Birthday Amber/Mikela and I am thrilled to give you your next installment in Rhea, her birthday blog story.

You can find past blog posts on Rhea HERE & Here is my post at Mikela’s blog for today as well.

Now onto Rhea…..

[Sorry it’s so short but I’m still feverish and headachy.]

“A boon,” Rhea replied. She didn’t know what she might need but she liked the idea of the dragons owing her a favor.

Brurien laughed. “I like you moon girl. You are special to face off a dragon.”

Rhea relaxed. She’d been tense during the entire conversation. She didn’t trust the dragon man. She had a feeling he wasn’t telling her everything. However, not trusting someone didn’t mean they weren’t interesting.

The dragons could make a good distraction from Jamie’s wedding stuff. Not to mention it would help release some of her magic. She didn’t know what was involved in charging a stone but if it released some of her magic she’d do just about anything.

Brurien stopped in the middle of the market to slide a finger along her cheek. “I’ll be in touch pretty. Dragons love things that shine.”

He kissed her on the cheek and walked away.

“I’d be careful with that one,” Rafe warned. “I don’t think he’ll give up easily.”

“He doesn’t have to give up. I agreed to fix his stones.”

Rafe and Peller burst out laughing.

“Oh shut up!” She shoved Rafe who stood closest.

“So what do we do now?” Peller asked. “Want to explore the rest of the market?”

Rhea sighed. “No, I guess I should go hunt down Jamie and see where we are with the wedding thing.”

Rafe shook his head. “It might be better help if you didn’t treat it like she’s having a tooth pulled.”

“It’s not the same?” Rhea asked innocently.

“The king doesn’t think so,” Rafe offered.

Rhea shook her head sadly. “Poor delusional man. He’s doomed for disappointment.”

The trio turned around and headed back to the castle only to be met by four castle guards.

“Miss me boys?” Rhea batted her lashes at him.

“Your sister is looking for you,” one of the guards said.

“Good I’m looking for her too, lead on.” Rhea motioned the guards. Two of the walked in front of her and two walked behind Rhea’s guard who hissed at them.

Grinning Rhea shook her head. This was going to be an interesting merging of families. Luckily she’d only have to deal with them when she visited.


Welcome Annette Snyder today and a Contest

Creating a story takes a lot of time.  Honing it into something readable takes even longer. Add that to all things involved with publishing, marketing, daily household chores (ya gotta eat) and real jobs, making up stories is time consuming.   I could definitely spend those hours elsewhere, not sitting at the computer wondering what Nolan will do when he discovers Virgie isn’t in love with Eric in Respectable Affair. Sometimes I wonder why I neglect lawn mowing and laundry and instead have to spin a tale.

Then I get an email from someone who says they couldn’t stop reading Viveka’s War and didn’t get to bed until it was time to wake up. I’m not a person who likes to stand up in front of people performing but I do like to entertain and writing is a way I can accomplish that.

As a child, I was fascinated by my great-grandparents’ stories about life as they moved across an ocean and to the West.  That bit of family history seemed so important and maybe I wrote my TravisPass series to document it?

Whatever the reason, an idea for the story of Amen Packard in Intimate Flames that I invented because of a lighter I saw on the sidewalk or, Going Twice, the story I’m writing now of his sister Dana, an auctioneer, I’m drawn to write.


Is writing profitable? I read once, during my extensive publisher search that only the top few authors ever make any money as writers and that’s true in my case. I remain hopeful that my talent will shine and I’ll do more than break-even. Who knows what direction my work will go but I’ll keep writing until I run out of ideas-I don’t like doing laundry anyway.


Blurb of Respectable Affair:

Between Virginia Seidle’s terrible jaunt with men and Nolan Vickers’s upheld honor toward his institutionalized wife, no one in town openly faulted the pair for banding together to raise Nolan’s son, John.  When love blossoms, would people be as accepting?

Can Nolan and Virgie put their clouded pasts behind and keep their affair respectable?


Excerpt of Respectable Affair:

The heat of worry rushed through Virgie’s veins as she wondered what she would do and where she would go. She held her fear but wasn’t sure how long she’d act calm when her life was about to be thrown into turmoil because of a crazy woman she hardly knew. She took a deep breath and looked to the floor. The wooden surface she waxed only days ago shined in the afternoon sun. Please don’t fire me. I have nowhere else to go. Virgie didn’t speak though apprehensive thoughts ran through her head as she listened to Nolan.

“Up until this meeting with the doctor, I thought Elizabeth would eventually get better, but it seems there’s little hope for that.” Nolan shifted in his seat.

Virgie looked up and wanted to beg for her job. She didn’t. Eureka Springs was a small town. The last thing she needed was to have Nolan Vickers say one to thing to someone about how she pleaded that he keep her on.


Website:  http://annettesnyder.atspace.com

Blog: http://annettesnyder.blogspot.com

Purchase:  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

All my work is available locally in stores, through many online avenues or by contacting me.


Here’s a great prize because November is my birthday month:

Comment here today or drop me an email through my website and I’ll toss your name into a hat for an autographed copy of one of my novels.

Thanks Raine for hosting me and thanks to you for stopping by.