Tag Archives: Tara Fox Hall

Book Spotlight for Web of Memory by Tara Fox Hall!




Sarelle’s return to her loved ones brings a brief measure of solace, even as she mourns all that changed in her absence. Rene’s presence and Sar’s pact with Shaker add as much tension as comfort, as the delicate balance of Sar’s life threatens to collapse under the weight of all she endured as Michael’s prisoner. Determined to reclaim her life, Sar fights back, inadvertently sparking Danial’s memory as an unseen ancient enemy prepares to strike a fatal blow.


I dreamed I was walking in a field. Then I heard a bark, and turned. Ghost was there. Darkness, my Darkness, was with him!

I threw myself at her, hugging her as she licked my tears. But when I began to walk with her at my side, as we always had before, she nipped me, not enough to draw blood, but enough I yelped.

I looked down at her in shock. She wagged her tail at me, and gave me an uncertain look.

“It’s okay,” I said gently. “Come on, let’s go look for a mouse.” We’d gone only another few steps when I felt her nip me again. And this time, she growled a little.

I spanked her, and said “no” loudly. With a final growl, she turned and ran, disappearing into the woods in seconds.

I looked around, but Ghost was gone, too. What had happened? Feeling awful, I woke up at Hayden. As I wiped away a tear, something nuzzled my leg.

Darkness was lying at the bottom of the bed near my legs. She was looking up at me, her tail wagging a little.

Part of me wanted to hug her. But what if she bit me? What if this somehow wasn’t Darkness?

I grabbed my courage with both hands, and reached down and touched her. Her soft fur was thick and familiar under my fingers. She let out a gratified sigh.

“Is it you?” I whispered, tears threatening again. “Darkness?”

“Yyyyeeeesssss,” a dry voice rasped. I looked down with horror. The words had come from Darkness’s mouth, which was lolling open near my bare legs.

With a shriek, I began flailing and screaming. Suddenly Shaker was there, pushing me back as he grabbed hold of what had been Darkness. It was molting and melting into something with shiny black skin. Shaker dug his talons in and ripped it in two. With a supernatural shriek of grinding metal, grey-black smoke, and splintered bone, the thing vanished.

I was in the throes of hysterics, sobbing, flailing, and screaming. Shaker turned to me, and grabbed hold of me. “Calm down, Mistress.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! What the fuck was that thing?”

“A Taker, a low level demon. They are attracted to loss, and can invade dreams, turning them sour. They feed on pain, especially emotional pain.”

“Why did it come to me? How did it get in here?”

“That is my fault,” Shaker rumbled. “You are bound to me, and your dreams are fair game because of that. Do you have a symbol of your faith?”

“I have a cross.”

“Wear it to bed. And it wouldn’t hurt to put a cross over your bed, or under it. That will keep any scavengers away.”

“I should’ve taken the drugs,” I whispered. “This is the first night I


“Take one, and go back to sleep,” Shaker rumbled. “I can come to you at once, Mistress. Don’t fear to call for me if you need me. There is little I can’t either kill or send back to Hell.”


Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Web-Memory-Promise-Me-Book-ebook/dp/B01L0LTU94

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/660972

Lulu: http://www.lulu.com/shop/tara-fox-hall/web-of-memory/paperback/product-22791360.html

Barnes and Noblehttp://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/web-of-memory-tara-fox-hall/1124480716


Author Bio:


Tara Fox Hall's writing credits include nonfiction, erotica, horror, suspense, action-adventure, children's stories, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal fantasy Lash series and the paranormal romantic drama Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice. All of her published children's stories to date are free reads on www.childrens-stories.net.


Author Links:

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/TaraFH

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/tara-fox-hall

Melange Books: http://www.melange-books.com/authors/tarafoxhall/index.html

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5286654.Tara_Fox_Hall          

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Tara-Fox-Hall/e/B005YPAA4W/

Promise Me SERIES Amazon Page: https://www.amazon.com/Promise-Me-13-Book-Series/dp/B019DYL6RY/

Website: www.tarafoxhall.com

Email: tarafoxhallATgmail.com

Blog: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5286654.Tara_Fox_Hall/blog

Facebook Page:


Twitter: https://twitter.com/TerrorFoxHall

Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/108597284890507251806/




Book Spotlight: Deep Breaths, Tales of Hope and Inspiration by Tara Fox Hall


Tara Fox Hall’s writing career began in the pages of a small print magazine, Catnip Blossoms!, that a friend, Harald Moore, put out to promote his catnip farm in Johnsonville, New York. One short non-fiction article followed another, detailing her adventures saving wildlife, her experiences living on an acreage, and more than a few humorous recountings detailing the antics of her wacky pets. Written to delight, fascinate, and move readers, her simple but enchanting stories of country life quickly found a following. Tara kept publishing stories for the next five years, even as the name of the magazine changed to Meanwhile, and then to On The River, when the catnip farm went out of business, and Harald moved with his family to a new home near a river. These previously published stories are collected here for the first time with new added content, in the hopes of bringing a little more hope and inspiration into everyday life.



My tiger cat, Kesteral, used to be an indoor cat when we lived in the busy city of Binghamton not that long ago. Since we moved to the country, my once shy and nervous cat has become an avid hunter. It was not very long until he began demanding to go out at night.

At first I tried to enforce a 10pm curfew, which I staunchly believed that all good little cats should be able to follow. After a few nights, “Kester” decided that 6am was too late in the morning to be out looking for “early” mice. 3am was much better. I tried yelling at the yowling monster outside my bedroom door, but as soon as I would begin to drift off to sleep, Kester would take up right where he left off. I next tried threats of punishment. He retaliated by clawing through the carpet at the basement stairs in an effort to get into the basement (a certified mouse haven).

I stuck to my guns, believing when there was no further carpet shredding that the problem was solved. I had cured him of his insanity! Then lo and behold, Kester greeted me one morning when I opened my front door. He had chewed through the plastic expandable partitions at the side of the air conditioner and slipped out! I taped up the ragged hole. Not to be thwarted, my sweet little monster chewed through the tape.

 I thought Hey, who is smarter here?and blocked off the sides of the air conditioner with pillows held in place by a table. Kester proved he was smarter by squeezing his way through. In a master ploy, I removed the air conditioner all together (it was late August—fall was practically here. A few days of sweating profusely was worth teaching dear Kester who was master). Ha! I thought triumphantly. He’s not getting out now!

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Tara Fox Hall is an OSHA-certified safety and health inspector at a metal fabrication shop in upstate New York. She received her bachelor's degree in mathematics with a double minor in chemistry and biology from Binghamton University. Her writing credits include over twenty short stories published in the nature magazines Catnip Blossoms, Meanwhile, and On The River. Her short horror stories have appeared in Deadman's Tome, Flashes in the Dark, Halloween Alliance, and Ghastly Door. She also coauthored the essay "The Allure of the Serial Killer," published in Serial Killers – Philosophy for Everyone: Being and Killing (Wiley-Blackwell, 2010). She divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals of all species, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice.


Tara’s Other Links:



Tara's Blog: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5286654.Tara_Fox_Hall/blog


Tara's Facebook Page:


Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/TerrorFoxHall



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Show Not Tell by Tara Fox Hall

I forwent the treadmill today for walking out side with the dogs. Beautiful evening, even though I got caught in the rain. This was one of those times it added to the experience, and was relaxing. Such a lovely stormy sky, with no lightning or thunder to make me worry.


Now, while that paragraph might have been enough to give you facts of what and when, was it enough to bring you, the reader, into that moment with me? I daresay not. Let’s try again.


The freshly plowed fields were dark with remnants of rain that had fallen only a few hours before. Yet the path was only slightly muddy, something I was grateful for, even as I picked my way along. The alfalfa was already green and growing, signaling spring was here. The first trilliums had opened their petals just inside the forest edge, spotting the many hues of brown forest floor with spots of white. My dogs, large shepherd and small mutt, sniffed excitedly, tails wagging as they trotted beside me. There was only the sounds of the wind in the treetops, and the footfalls of our brisk pace. Then a coyote’s howl pieced the silence, answered quickly by some of his fellows far off to the northwest. As we neared home, the stormcloud sky darkened slightly, and rain began to fall, pattering gently on us, as if in blessing. Blissful, I closed my eyes and raised my face, the sensation of the rain both relaxing and freeing. This was a moment of perfect peace, and also renewal of hope and anticipation for the evening still to come.


Same subject, yes, but anyone reading this felt something more with the second paragraph. This is the infamous “Show, Not Tell,” that every writer hears at some point in their career. It was very hard for me to learn at first. It’s in our nature to tell people what we’ve been doing when we communicate with them, to give them a synopsis of what happened, without too much detail. In essence, I had to relearn how to tell a story to capture not only what happened, but how it felt to the subject of the story when it happened. Include sensation, emotion, perception, and any good details that lend reality to your story, so the characters are believable as possible. Only then can the reader truly identify with your character, and lose themselves in the story.




Metal shop worker Sarelle “Sar” McGarran is the ultimate tomboy and considers herself capable of handling whatever life throws her way. Recently widowed, she takes refuge in quiet country life until the day she stumbles upon an unconscious vampire on her property. Unable to leave the wounded man, she takes him in.


Danial Racklan is a sexy bad boy with a complicated past and questionable motives. Yet before long, he has Sar completely captivated. He introduces her to his secret, supernatural world, in the process reawakening emotions and desires she hasn’t felt since her husband’s tragic death. Soon Sar finds herself drawn into a dark, dangerous reality in which her desire for Danial is second only to her wariness that he may break her heart. Yet Sar must soon face there is much Danial has kept from her, even as she begins to love him. When Danial asks her for an Oath of forever, will Sar give Danial his greatest desire?


When your lover is a vampire, a promise of forever takes on a whole new meaning…PROMISE ME




Danial was dying.


He could feel it in his blood, the burning in his flesh. He pulled the truck onto a side road and accelerated. His pursuer couldn’t be far behind. He glanced at his arm, at the small gash that was even now healing. It might be better for him if he opened it up again. He’d cleaned it the best he could, but it wasn’t like he’d had time to do more than pour water on it. It felt as though a razor had cut him and was working its way deeper into his flesh.


Had to be poison. And no run of the mill arsenic or derivative. 


His mind worked frantically. What poison had been on the tip of that arrow? Who had that been in the shadows? Who’d known he’d been working on the Donaldson contract that he’d be there tonight, watching? And most importantly, who had dared attack him?


It was possible the attacker hadn’t known his name. But whoever had done this knew the breed of man he hunted and had prepared a special end for him. He’d gotten a glimpse in the shadows of what had hunted him; red eyes and a masculine form moving at supernatural speed. In his world, that still left a long list of possible suspects. For certain, it had been another of his kind.          


He came to a crossroads and went west, then to another and headed south. There were no headlights behind him, at least so far. Best to leave the most complicated trail he could.


With some bitterness, he wondered why he was fighting so hard to survive. His life had been pointless for the last half century. Modern books and novels talked about how fun it was being a creature of the night; so romantic and glamorous. What a crock of shit.  If he hadn’t had his business, he’d have gone crazy. And as for there being so many women who wanted to be with . . . someone like him . . . for the most part, it was a phase girls in their twenties went through. Looking for a bad boy to titillate and seduce them.  Not one had been anything of substance. It never lasted very long. But the ones who wanted in for the long haul were worse. There was always the vow of doing anything for him and the promise of eternal devotion. Until they found out that he couldn’t give them what they wanted. Then it was wheedling and hints of what he would do if he really cared for them. He’d stayed away from any serious commitments lately, say the last thirty years. Why bother, when they were doomed to fail?


Enough of depressing thoughts! God, wasn’t death at the end of the night depressing enough? He smiled at that and checked the rearview mirror. Still no lights. His attacker was either a master tracker or an amateur.


Maybe his life wasn’t everything he’d hoped for when he was young. But he’d be damned if he’d give it up without a fight.


He felt a wave of nausea, and swallowed. If there was going to be a fight, it had better be quick. He could already feel himself getting lightheaded, and it was getting worse by the second. He had to pull in somewhere and get out of the open. The night was more than half over. He’d never make it to the campsite he’d planned on, not how he felt.


Tara's Links:


Website: www.tarafoxhall.com


Email: tarafoxhallATgmailDOTcom


Tara's Blog: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5286654.Tara_Fox_Hall/blog


Tara's Facebook Page:



For info on my recently published books Lash and Promise Me, click here: http://www.amazon.com/Lash-ebook/dp/B007UJ6KGC and here http://www.amazon.com/Promise-Me-ebook/dp/B0086G4GDC