Monday, August 20, 2012
R.M. Gilmore Birthday Bash blog tour. Guest Post & Giveaways
Today is our stop for the BIRTHDAY BASH BLOG TOUR, we have a special guest post from the lovely R.M. Gilmore and also awesome prizes up for grabs. So, come join us and let's make R.M. Gilmore's birthday one to remember! :-)
Nonsense and Dribble
If one of my nearest and dearest were to sit down and tell you one thing about me that no one else knew everyone I know would say something different. There is not a soul on this earth that knows every inch of me; every last dirty little secret. Except maybe my husband, but what he'd have to say would be anything but G rated.
That being said, here is a, mostly, PG rated break down of me, the writer, the bitch, the human.
I was born to two very young parents in the Summer of 1983. After a few years of a marriage that was doomed from the start, my folks split. From an unnaturally young age I was obsessed with horror. According to my mom my first horror movie was Nightmare on Elm Street. I was four. I was never sheltered as a kid. Except for gratuitous sex scenes, I guess that crossed the line. My obsession grew from there. By the time I was five I had moved on from slasher films to vampires. My favorites being Fright Night and The Lost Boys, duh. My brother was two at the time and terrified of everything. Apparently the fearlessness of all things bloody didn't transcend the sibling age gap. Most little girls want to be a princess or ballerina for Halloween, I wanted to be a vampire. And I was, every year.
Childhood moved into angst-y teen years, but the love for horror never wavered. In fact, it grew with a wild vengeance. We'd moved to the country into a large home filled with eerie bumps in the night and more than one encounter with strange occurrences. At sixteen I got my first job, it was the best job I've ever worked. I was a side show freak at a local Halloween Haunt. They let me work the make-up room; I was in heaven. Every night I went to work with a passion in my heart rarely felt during shitty seasonal employment. Creating new creatures on the faces of the vast employees of "Wild Scary Adventures" was the highlight of my night. Once showtime began I was in my element as I never have been since. Every night a different deformity would be dripping from my face. Every night a new scare, new hordes of frightened masses to terrify, a new feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was my calling. Not necessarily instilling fear, but creating a question of reality. Is this person standing before me actually horrifying or is it my imagination? Once, while standing in a mass of thick white fog, a man came and nearly bumped into me having not seen me due to the heavy mist. He screamed at my appearance and raised his fist to hit me. I laughed a feminine laugh and he immediately dropped his arm. At the time he may have thought me a disgusting creature, a filthy vile oozing freak, or perhaps he's just a huge pantywaist that got scared by a girl. Either way, I was on cloud nine. Needless to say, the season ended and with it the fun of my youth. My family moved from the rural country house I'd grown to love, to an apartment in the larger adjacent city just a few months later.
The new apartment brought it's own adventure to the table. I lived there with my mom, my brother, and our live-in ghost, for just over a year. At first it was only a tingly feeling in my stomach when I was in my room alone, especially the closet. I understand what a cliche that must be, oh mommy there's a monster in my closet, but I assure you it was very real. When we first moved in I was forced to share a room with my little brother, that lasted all of a month before he decided it was better to live with our dad than share a room with his seventeen year old sister. I was fine with that seeing as though my mom had allowed us to take the master bedroom with the huge walk-in closet and bathroom, but that left me alone in a room I wasn't exactly comfortable with. After my brother moved out things really picked up. Rarely in the rest of the house, but most definitely centered in my room, a sickening feeling a dread would over take you. Guests and residents alike would feel this with little explanation. My mom chocked it up to teen rebellion and left it at that. I wonder now if that wasn't a cause for my brother to leave and give my angst as his excuse. One night I fell asleep with the light in the bathroom on. It wasn't a spot light mind you, but allowed a soft glow of light to fill my room. Something woke me up, nothing in particular, just the feeling you must open your eyes. As my eyes opened I saw a woman standing over my bed, looking down at me, the glow from the bathroom light cast shadows on her face. Just as quickly as she was there she vanished, snuffed is the best word I can use to describe it. In an instant she was snuffed out. I screamed frantically and my mom came running in. I told her what I'd seen, describing the woman with as much detail as I could muster, and finally she understood I was being as honest as one can be in such a situation. She believed me so much she brought a psychic to our house not too long after. The woman walked directly to my room and into my closet, without being told a word of what had been happening in the house. She came out a few minutes later and told us a young woman had likely committed suicide in that closet. We did some research and spoke with the rickety old ladies in the management office and they confirmed the suicide. A young woman had hung herself in the closet of my bedroom a decade before I lived there. The psychic had told us some other things about talking to the "spirit" and asking it to leave, but in the end we decided to move. The little girl who had never been afraid of a thing in her life was now nearly a grown woman, and terrified of ghosts.
Years passed and I became a mom myself, living in a new house with my daughter, and a nasty divorce trailing behind us. She was just old enough to talk, cute at that age, and was talking up a storm. One of her first full sentences was uttered as she pointed down our long hallway. Her chubby little finger lifted, pointing straight ahead to the end of the empty hall, she said, "Who's that?" My stomach sank and my heart fluttered in my chest. I refused to be the parent of an 'I see dead people' kid. But she continued. Her little legs would carry her to the end of the hall as fast as she could make them. She'd come running back and hand you "The little girl who lives at the end of the hall." I pretended for a long time she was just super imaginative and left it at that. I understood then why my mom always denied anything in our home. That shit's scary. Due to unforeseen circumstances we were forced to move into an apartment. On one of our last nights in our house my daughter and I were lying in bed snuggling. From nowhere she said, "Mom, make the lights stop." I asked her what she was talking about and she proceeded to tell me about the lights that floated around our house. There was a boy and a girl. The boy lived under the house (we had a large crawl space under the hardwood). "The girl sleeps in your bed mom." What the..??!! Needless to say, moving became a blessing.
Still obsessed with horror, even ghosts, though they were the only thing that actually terrified me, I allowed my daughter to watch horror movies just as I was allowed to. She continued to "see dead people" and eventually I just became accustomed to it. Although, there were a handful of times I scooped her up and she and I left the apartment for the night because of things she'd say. It was during this time my character, Dylan Hart, popped into my head. At a much needed night out my friends and I began discussing the ridiculousness of the (then) new vampire explosion. Having grown up on the stellar vampires of the 1980's I had developed a taste for the big haired vamps and the new sparkling version wasn't cutting it for me. You'd thing if a vampire was going to sparkle, he would've done it in the 80's. But, alas, this trend waited until I was old enough and wise enough...drunk enough...to drudge up the idea for the Dylan Hart Odyssey of The Occult series. One would assume that I'd begin my writing career with a good ghost story, judging by my experience, but the first story to enter my brain was that of "The Scene".
It was a slow go at first. Life and road blocks stopped the process so many times I'd nearly given up, but a few solid "fans" pushed me to finish. The story changed over the years, evolved into what you can read today, but Dylan Hart was always there, in my head, punching and scratching her way out. I think sometimes she was always there, wanting to come out, wanting to become some sort of reality, and perhaps all that came before her was just another step in her release. Or, I'm just a f***ing lunatic. Either way you look at it, a bad ass bitch like Dylan Hart came from all the horrors that came before her, I say it's a win!
Four years later, new house, new husband, new book. Dylan Hart is complete and on the shelves ready for eager readers. The series was born and the next in line, Endless Night, is cooking hot in the oven. Dylan fought her way through the dredges of horror in my head and came out victorious. And behind her, little sis, Lynnie Russell. A new and exciting character born from the need to write something fantastical. Something I could take anywhere my imagination could carry me. Something my daughter could read. Because in the case of Dylan Hart, they're not your daughters vampires.
The Scene - Dylan Hart Odyssey of The Occult series ( 4.5 stars ) $2.99 eBook $9.99 paperback
In the opening novel of R.M. Gilmore's
'Odyssey of the Occult' series, entitled "The Scene", we find Dylan Hart in her hometown of Hollywood, California. The bodies of seven exsanguinated prostitutes have been found from the Central Valley to Southern California. The media has dubbed them the "Vampire Massacres".
Dylan has decided to cash in on the tragedy and write a true crime novel. She begins her odyssey with research into the underground vampire lifestyle. All seemed to be going as planned, and as long as fiction can keep its ass away from fact, she should be alright.
But let's face it, someone is draining women of all their blood.
There is no way in hell it's going to end pretty.
Becoming - Lynnie Russell Trilogy ( 4.8 stars) $0.99 eBook $5.99 paperback
Country girl paranormal novella from author R.M. Gilmore (author of the Dylan Hart Odyssey of The Occult series). A new twist on an old classic. Havana, Arkansas isn't exactly the picture of mystics and magic, but Lynnie Russell learns quickly you can't judge a book by it's cover. She discovers myths and legends are alive and well in her tiny little town and she is at the center of it.
Places where you can stalk R.M. Gilmore
http://www.facebook.com/RMGilmoreAuthor http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5756901.R_M_Gilmore http://www.shelfari.com/authors/a1002673717/R-M-Gilmore/
Raised in Central California, bred from two very young parents, I have fought hard to get where I am today. Which isn’t saying much since I haven’t come very far. But, I do my best. I married my best friend October of 2011 and published my first novel in 2012, not too shabby I guess.
I started writing almost four years ago. Dylan Hart was my first character and I fell in love with her immediately. Since, I have created, and am currently working on, a number of different works. All varying from supernatural thrillers, to biblical apocalypse, to the life of a young punk just trying to drink, smoke, and survive. Short stories are regularly being pumped out as well. All are lying in wait for the perfect time to be unleashed.
Aside from writing, I also paint. In fact, painting was my first passion. I operate an online store where I sell my original artworks. Just as the characters I drudge up, all paintings I’ve finished have their own identity.
I definitely consider myself to be “unconventional” (“conventionist.”) I also have an affinity for cult films. I love movies and could watch horror all day, everyday. My heart lies with vampires but I never turn away a good monster, slasher, ghost, or otherwise otherworldly plot. Thanks to my lovely husband I watch Trailer Park Boys nearly everyday. Along with, Roseanne, Ancient Aliens, Decoded, and SVU. Just to name a few.
My life revolves around humor. If I’m not laughing at something or someone then I must be dead. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen anytime soon.
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Don't forget to check out the other stops
August 18th Novel d'Tales
August 19th Bex 'n' Books
August 20th Sassy Book Lovers
August 21st Book Readers Addicts
August 22nd Paranormal Reads
August 23rd The Curiosity Key
August 24th Thousand Lives Book Blog
August 25th Totally Bookalicious
August 26th One More Chapter Reviews
August 27th My Home Away From Home