Halloween Costuming – the perfect indulgence in mind games

Do you plan to “dress up” for Halloween this year? I’m leaning toward “yes,” but as usual find myself paralyzed with indecision. I won’t buy anything other than maybe a few accent pieces, which leaves me at the mercy of my wardrobe.

It’s been many years since I’ve worn a costume for a Halloween. I do have a vague recollection of putting on my husband’s gei one year and going as  “ninja” to an office event about a decade ago. To be fair, I also strapped on some of his weaponry – nothing pointy or sharp – to give myself some sense of authenticity.

And there lies the crux of my problem. I’m always looking for authenticity. But authenticity flies in the face of the whole purpose of Halloween costuming, doesn’t it?

The purpose is to dress up like something you’re NOT. Right? To indulge those fantasies. To play someone other than yourself even if for a few brief hours. But maybe not….

Let’s face it, the truth is we all wear masks every day. We have our work masks, our social masks, our family masks.  Maybe wearing  a Halloween costume is an opportunity, in fact, to show the world the real you.

Feeling like showing off your sexier side? Take a look here at our Alexa Day’s hints from last year.

Do you spend your days riding a desk but wishing you were out on the open plains, the wind rustling through your hair? Be a cowboy/cowgirl. It doesn’t take much—pair of jeans and boots, a bandana, a cowboy hat and rope for lassoing whoever it is you might want to lasso. Or for the softer look, a cute skirt and frilly top and cute boots. And don’t forget the lasso! For some ideas, take a look at this special Dancing with the Stars piece:



I SO should’ve been a cowboy. Really. Sigh.

Or how about if you’re a dancer at heart, one of those people who can’t keep still when the music starts. Go with something dramatic, something with flair, like Jennifer Grey and Derek Hough dancing the Argentine Tango.


I SO should have been a dancer. Really.

Want to let loose your inner comic? How about going as a “Cereal Killer”? All you need to do is create a “shirt” out of a box, decorate it as a cereal box, stick a rubber knife in the “rib” area and dribble ketchup or red paint (blood) down the side. (I have to give credit for this one to my friend who dressed like this when our kids were small. During the school-wide Halloween parade, she was called to the principal’s office for dressing violently…true story.)

Want to show the real side of the romance writer? Wear granny glasses (because you’re blind from staring at the computer for a break-free, 96-hour stretch); hair that hasn’t been combed in that time (because you’re on deadline), ratty/saggy knit top dribbled with coffee/tea/spaghetti stains down its front (from eating at the computer); sweatpants and slipper socks...

Or how about going as the erotic novelist at reader event? Dress up playing dress up. Find that rope from the cowboy outfit….:-)

These are just a few ideas to get you started. Whether you're playing your fantasy, or showing the world the REAL YOU, don’t be afraid. And have fun! I know I will.

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By day, Leah works as a mild-mannered book blogger (among other things) at her local newspaper, but at night, she lets her imagination run wild, crafting stories of romance, suspense, murder, mayhem and love. Always love. Read more about Leah and learn about special promotions for the month of October at LeahStJames.com.

A Little Halloween Romance

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Okay, I'm a day early, but I'm excited, aren't you? In keeping with the holiday, a few of us talked about posting Halloween Stories involving characters from our current WIP (Work In Progress). Here is mine, introducing Norah Cartright, a young witch/Tarot card reader, and Tristan Byrnes, a lone wolf shapeshifter, from Aces Down.

"Trick or treat?" asked a familiar voice in Norah's ear.

Trying to keep her expression neutral, Norah turned from watching a guy in a Wookie suit doing shots with a Vampira wannabe to face the hot guy from Byrnes' Bikes. Yow! She had to stop and blink once before she burst out laughing.

Tristan Byrnes smiled. "Do you have an apple for the teacher, young lady?"

In a tweed suit and wire-rimmed glasses, he looked like a college co-ed's wet dream. Wavy brown hair fell across his forehead and over the frames making her fingers practically itch to push it back. A striped shirt and bow tie peeked out above the matching vest. The suit had an appropriately rumpled look but could not disguise Tristan's broad shoulders and chest. Norah snapped her gaze back up to his amazing green eyes and tried not to blush. Yeah, he would have fit the role very nicely.

Meanwhile, his own gaze traveled over her costume with a rapid but thorough sweep that left her a bit breathless. One corner of his mouth quirked up. She'd been a little worried about the outfit, but he seemed to approve of her flirty schoolgirl ensemble complete with a skirt so short she didn't dare sit down, white thigh-highs, and shiny Mary Janes she's picked up at the thrift store.

She scrambled to retrieve her wandering thoughts and tried out a perky smile complete with a Valley Girl head tilt. "Will it get me a better grade, prof?"

Tristan's smile broadened into a grin and a wink. "Depends."

A shout burst out from behind her and Tristan's gaze shifted over her shoulder. He frowned and reached out to cup her elbow. "Why don't we go find some place a little quieter to discuss my grading scale?"

Norah's skin tingled where his fingers touched her elbow and she bit back a gasp. His aura was stronger than she expected and his warm energy flowed around her like a blanket. As a witch, she was used to the occasionally zing from contact with other paranormals, but this was a man with a lot of power.

She let him lead her back toward the front room where the majority of Alison's guests were dancing. She directed a fine tendril of awareness through the contact with his hand and received an image of fur and teeth. A wolf!

She'd suspected something like it from her first day at Josie's Java. As soon as he'd pushed open the door of the coffee shop, her personal wards had sparked in recognition of someone "other." And their slowly developed pattern of increasingly flirtatious chatter every morning had gotten to the point that Josie had insisted they meet.

"My party will be perfect!" Josie had declared. She'd ticked off her reasons on her fingers. "One, neutral ground. Two, mutually unfamiliar ground. Three, easy exit strategies. What's not to love?" She peered over her dollar store reading glasses at Norah and winked. "Finally, plenty of libations to ease the nerves."

"How do you know he'll come?" Norah asked, too honest to deny being interested.

"He always comes. It's a neighborhood tradition and, despite his biker vibe, Tristan is very traditional." Josie smiled.

Now, as they skirted the edges of the crowd, Norah saw Josie give a little nod, though whether it was for her or for Tristan, Norah wasn't sure.

"Wanna dance?" he asked.

Josie had pushed all her living room furniture to the walls, leaving a dance space larger than some clubs boasted. The music was smooth and slow, the sultry voice of a local songstress belting out a Patsy Cline song. Couples swayed back and forth, talking in low voices or snugged up close.

Norah hesitated for a moment. Slow dancing was so intimate and she didn't know how she felt about being so close so quickly. He evidently took her silence for acceptance, taking her hand and giving her a slow spin out into the space. However, when she faced him, he slid his other arm around her waist, not too close, and his other hand shifted into a traditional hold. The space he created between them helped ease her comfort level and she followed his lead easily as he moved them into the middle of the crowd.

All too aware of his hand on the small of her back, Norah tried to keep her pulse and her breathing even. Every morning, across the counter, she'd noticed his aftershave, something spicy and a little woodsy. Up close it was even nicer.

"You're a good dancer," she said, trying to keep it light.

He looked down at her, that crooked smile tugging at something in her chest. "You're a good partner."

They circled slowly for a few moments before he continued. "I've been wondering. Among other things, I noticed you've got a bit of a southern accent. What brought you way out here to Seattle?"

"Stretching my wings I guess," she answered. "I was born and raised in Richmond, Virginia, but most recently, after my mother died, I was living with my Aunt Mattie in Arizona."

He frowned. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Norah nodded, taking a moment to swallow the lump in her throat. "Thanks. Anyway, I decided I wanted to see some more of the country and after a few months, I ended up here." She shrugged. "Seemed like a good place to stop."

He smiled. "I'm glad you did." He held her gaze for a few moments, enough to make her feel as if she were sinking into that green gaze, before he looked away.

Despite her mother's warnings about the dangers of witches mixing with other paranormals, Norah couldn't deny that there was something about Tristan Byrnes that called to her. Something that resonated with her, despite her efforts to keep her focus strictly light and friendly.

While the music continued and dancers shifted around them, Norah and Tristan exchanged life stories in bits and pieces, feeling out similarities and differences. She'd been raised by her mother since her father died in a car accident. He'd been raised by a single dad when his mother left for parts unknown. She'd gotten her Bachelor's Degree in English, he'd taken some night courses. He'd started his own business repairing motorcycles and had grown enough that now he left repairs to his general mechanic so he could spend his time customizing bikes. She'd worked one job after another, not finding anything that fit, nothing that held her interest. They both loved Italian and Indian food, but neither one had any patience for diet food or drinks.

The conversation far outlasted the slow dance music and they'd adjourned, with a couple of beers, to a couch on the edge of the room. Tristan gallantly surrendered his coat to provide Norah a little extra coverage when they sat down and the residual warmth felt wonderful as she curled her legs up beneath it.

Norah enjoyed listening to his baritone voice as the back and forth exchange of life stories continued through the remainder of the night. He had a habit of absent-mindedly shoving back that flop of hair, but it always, fell back over his glasses.

She took one opportunity to ask. "Are they real glasses or fakes?"

He grinned and pulled them off to hand to her. "Fake. I got them at the costume store."

She peered through them and nodded. She would have been surprised to find a shapeshifter with less than perfect vision. Imagine a near-sighted wolf. Wouldn't last long. She handed them back. "Wondered. since I'd never seen you wearing them before."

"Trick or Treat!" Josie called, walking into the room and tossing candy around. "Why should the kids have all the fun!" She strolled past the couch and tossed some mini-candy bars in their laps. "Enjoy." When she crossed behind Tristan, she gave Norah a thumbs-up and continued on her way.

"What?" he asked, noticing her smile.

She shook her head. "Nothing." She scooped up a few candy bars and held them out. "Trade. You mentioned you didn't like peanut butter and I love those."

"Works for me." He plucked them out of her hand and dropped his candy in hers. He set them aside and slid the fake glasses into his pocket. "Listen, I was wondering. Would you like to go out to dinner some time. I know a good Indian restaurant."

Delighted, she nodded. "I'd like that."

Choruses of good-byes floated from the front hall and he glanced around. "Looks like the party's breaking up."

Startled, Norah realized they were now practically the last folks in the room. Where had the evening gone? She pushed her feet to the floor and sat up. "Wow! I didn't mean to monopolize you all evening. Sorry."

He gave her another lopsided smile. "I'm not." He stood up and held out his hand. "Walk you to your car?"

She put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet so fast, she staggered. For a moment, she stood, her hand against his chest to balance herself, her gaze locked with his, and her heart doing strange gymnastic feats in her chest.

"Sorry," he said. "Sometimes I forget my own strength." But the look in his eye was far from sorry.

Norah stepped back and handed him his suit jacket. "Thanks for the loan."

Like everyone else, their outdoor coats were piled on Josie's bed. He held her trench coat for her and then dragged his leather jacket over his suit. At the door, Josie gave Norah a tight hug.

"Good work," she whispered into Norah's ear.

Knowing how sharp paranormal hearing was, Norah felt her face grow warm, but she just squeezed Josie and stood back so Josie could give Tristan his own hug.

"Thanks for coming," she said as they walked down the front steps to the sidewalk.

Tristan glanced up and down the street. "Where's your car?"

Norah waved a hand up the street. "A few blocks that way. Did you ride your bike?"

"Naw. Walked. I just live a few blocks over."

They walked the two blocks to her car in a comfortable silence, the sounds of the city filling the spaces. When they reached her mustang, she pulled out her keys, pressing the key fob to unlock the driver door.

"Thanks for walking me to my car," she said. She paused, uncertain whether she should offer to shake his hand, but he stepped closer.

"My pleasure." He looked down at her for a moment.

What the hell. She lifted her face to his and he quickly leaned down, his hand reaching up to cup her face as his lips touched hers.

His mouth was firm and warm against her lips, the pressure gentle, undemanding. However, gentle as it was, it ignited something warm and liquid inside Norah. She opened her lips just enough to touch the tip of her tongue to his bottom lip and, recognizing the touch for the invitation it was, he deepened his kiss. His hand shifted the back of her head, gently guiding her to a position that gave him better access to her mouth. His tongue slid across the surface of her lips and then between them to tangle with hers.

He tasted of beer and something a little spicy, pepperminty, and she matched his explorations with explorations of her own. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, to his hair. She wove her fingers through the soft lengths and a sound rumbled through his chest again. His kiss deepened and her body responded, pressing herself along the length of his.

He lifted his head slightly and she opened her eyes to find him smiling at her. "Nice."

She nodded. "Nice."

He paused and pushed some hair out of her eyes. "You know, I wasn't sure what I expected from seeing you tonight, but I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I was hoping for something like this."

Norah's cheeks grew warm and she glanced aside for a moment before returning his gently questioning gaze. "Then it's a good thing I was kind of hoping the same thing." She leaned forward, her mouth a breath away from his, her gaze locked on his. "I'd say this might be one of my favorite Halloween trick or treats."

He shook his head, his lips brushing across hers. "No trick, just treats."

I hope you enjoyed meeting Norah and Tristan and seeing how they met. My WIP, Aces Down, picks up their story a few years (and one terrible event) later.

Denise Golinowski is a reader and writer of fantasy and romance. Her first enovella, The Festival of the Flowers: The Courtesan and the Scholar is available now through the Wild Rose Press. Her second enovella, Collector's Item will also be published by The Wild Rose Press in 2013. You can also visit her blog at Golinowski's Gambol.

Awwww-tumn

Autumn is full of amazing things. There's nothing I enjoy more than watching the landscape out my back window turn from full, lush green to a mottled mixture of gold, reds, and auburns. The treeline seems to transform into a shimmering range of colors you can't even find in the big box of crayons.

I think most of y'all know that I live on a working goat farm and this is when we start our second round of kidding for the year. Just the other day we had our first set of twins - an adorable buck and a doe. Here's a picture of the FFA and 4H stockman that will be helping take care of our farm while we vacation in Vegas for the big PBR finals this week - holding the twins. Aren't they Awwww-dorable? We still haven't named them so make your suggestions!! With hundred of goats on the farm it gets harder and harder to name them all. The buck is the one on the right with the white blaze down his nose.The little doe has an all red head.

The other Awwww-some thing about October that I love-love-love is pumpkins. Did you carve a pumpkin and roast pumpkin seeds? If not, you've still got time to weave this memorable moment into your week. No matter if you decide to carve a scary, spooky, funny, or goofy face into your pumpkin - it's all about the project. This year instead of carving a face...I scooped just a few seeds out and then tucked flowers into the top. The pulp keeps the stems watered and the flowers have looked fresh all month. Lots of fun and an easy quick centerpiece. I just used what was blooming in my front flowerbeds. Mums, daisies, sweet williams and some herbs to make it smell extra wonderful.

Wishing all you an Awwww-some Awwww-tumn full of amazing moments. 

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About Nancy :: I am the author of the Adams Grove series and the co-author of the YA novel, inkBLOT. I write stories from the crossroad of small town and suspense.

Sweet Tea and Secrets is available in print, kindle and audio formats. Out of Focus is also available in print, and all digital formats.

inkBLOT is a suspense novel that you can enjoy and feel comfortable sharing with your tweens. Written under the pen-name Johnson Naigle, Phyllis and I hope you'll share your love of reading with the next generation of readers.

Check out my website NancyNaigle.com and on facebook and twitter @NancyNaigle

My Halloween

Jack-O-Latern

Growing up, my religiosity never kept me from celebrating Halloween. It was the time to play dress up, grab a pillow case for trick or treating (you could hit more neighborhoods that way and accumulate more candy), and head to the neighborhoods where they gave out full sized candy bars.

Halloween was sort of like a community Christmas, where everyone could show their creativity and receive a sugar high all for free. For me, most of the time, the costume was something dragged from my mother's closet - almost nothing store bought. But it didn't matter. I loved seeing everyone attempts at creating an alter ego.

It was pretty simple then. Once the street lights came on, children would descend on homes with their outside lights on. In a group, we'd yell trick or treat and wait to be scared and/or given candy. The decoration would range from being very sparse, almost non existent, to over the top haunted houses.

There is one Halloween season I'll never forget. A carnival was in town and located not far from my house.My family decided to go. The sounds of the carnival and the crowd was infectious. Laughter rung in the air. I was wearing plastic princess slippers and the eerie sounds of the Halloween soundtrack blasted around us. We decided to visit the fun house.

We entered and besides the usual darkness and mirrors, there was also the occasional person popping out to scare those wandering through it. Somehow or another, I got separated from my family. Suddenly, there were large male hands wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me back into the darkness where there was no light, nothing. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel like it was part of the fun hose experience.I struggled and screamed, losing one of my highly prized shoes. 

Finally freeing myself, I ran. I ran until the blackness gave way to some street lights and illumination from the carnival's rides and the sight of my mother's welcoming smile.

It didn't matter that I had to walk on sharp gravel to get home. The only thing I could think about was how these manly hands inappropriately touched me and made me lose something I could never regain.

I never told my mother about it; I never told anyone, perplexed by the experience.

I don't like fun houses and now am leery when I am around one always wondering if I enter again will I find not only my plastic slipper, but also my innocence.

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About Tina: I am the author of THOU SHALL NOT. I love creating three dimensional characters and am always looking for new people to kill…in my stories.

Check out my author's  blog at TinaGlasneck.com and my book is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. You can also connect with me on Facebook and on Twitter.

Halloween and Samhain Traditions

Researching for this month's Myth Perceptions blog led me down many paths and evoked many a wonderful memory. Why? Because of Halloween, of course. Or as I prefer to call it, Samhain (pronounced sow-in). Many of our popular Halloween traditions are based on older traditions with surprising purposes. So, be warned, this post is likely to ramble as I bounce from fun fact to fun fantasy and back again.

Take for example costumes. Halloween is all about the costumes. I love costumes and our own Alexa Day posted two very useful blogs about creating your costume for this year. One here at W3 and another on her personal blog.

I discovered that the concept of costumes can perhaps be traced back to a traditional belief that wearing your clothing inside out will make you invisible to the Fae. Now, do not confuse the Fae with fairies as in Tinkerbell. Oh no, the Fae are powerful and definitely more inclined to trick than to treat. So, on Halloween, when the veil is thinnest, folks would wear costumes in order to avoid the attention of the fairies and the dead. Personally, I'm glad this evolved from wearing your clothes inside out to designing something outre to wear!

Another thread lead me to the traditional explanation for jack o'lanterns being that folks would carve faces on hollowed out turnips and set them in their windows to ward away evil. While some historians take exception to this theory, I find myself easily imagining the little lanterns flickering in windows across a dark and windy countryside. When you lived in a world where you could never be sure of what was going bump in the night, you would appreciate any extra protection you could get. I know I would!

One particular Irish folk tale about jack o'lanterns involves an unsavory and rather tricky character called Stingy Jack. This brazen fellow twice trapped the Devil, exhorting a promise that the Devil would not take his soul as the price for the Devil's freedom. When Stingy Jack truly died, they wouldn't let him into Heaven and the Devil refused to take him in honor of his promise. When Stingy Jack complained about having no place to go and no way to see his way, the Devil tossed him an ember from the fires of hell which Jack put into a carved out turnip lantern. (I guess the ol' Devil had a soft place in his heart for the wily Jack) Using it to light his way, Jack began searching the earth for some place to rest and became known as Jack of the Lantern or Jack o' Lantern.

Since Samhain is the last of the harvest festivals, apples and nuts figured prominently in both the feasts and the traditions. In fact, there's an entire group of spells called apple magic. One spell is to peel an apple and then toss the peel over your shoulder asking to know the name of your future spouse. The shape it makes on the ground is supposed to be the first initial of your intended. Nuts were marked with the names (or initials) of two lovers and then placed on the hearth to roast. If they stayed together, the couple would do the same. If the nuts popped apart, the relationship appeared doomed to end.

Trick or treating had various incarnations as well. In olden times, children may have dressed in disguise and tried to earn a coin or treat by entertaining others. In a more recent form, I remember a wonderful scene in Meet Me In St. Louis where the neighborhood children didn't trick or treat for candy, but for old worn out household goods to throw onto a bonfire. Why, I was never quite certain, but it looked like fun! Though I admit I prefer the candy myself.

This pumpkin looks like...brains!

And I guess that's what is best about this particular holiday. It's about fun, without all the hooplah and expectations of Christmas/Yule. It's about letting yourself play and that's never a bad thing. So, make up your costume to protect yourself from the Fae, carve out a jack o'lantern for that wily ol' Stingy Jack, and treat yourself to some tricks or treats of your own making.

Happy Samhain! Blessed Be!

Denise Golinowski is a reader and writer of fantasy and romance. Her first enovella, The Festival of the Flowers: The Courtesan and the Scholar is available now through the Wild Rose Press. Her second enovella, Collector's Item will also be published by The Wild Rose Press in 2013. You can also visit her blog at Golinowski's Gambol.

Never Say Dead by Tina Glasneck

In the spirit of Halloween, I've drafted a short scene. It's created with the thought of Halloween that I used as a short prompt to get me typing on my current work in progress.

Please enjoy the unedited scene from Never Say Dead

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The full moon rested in the clear night sky. Sirens wailed in the distance, flashing blue lights pulled into the cul-de-sac, while children dressed in their Halloween apparel went from house to house seeking a treat instead of a horrible trick.

Rose walked with her youngest daughter, Annabelle, dressed as Snow White, trying to ignore the passing by police lights until they stopped in front of their house. Tonight was to be only about fun. With a pillow case filled with candy bars and a bitter divorce behind them, Rose picked up her step.

"Why are the police at our house, mommy?" Annabelle asked. The questioning gaze and barely concealed panic lit up her face, as she tightened her grip.

"Come on," Rose said pulling Annabelle behind her.

They arrived as if on wings. Neighbors looked on, gathered and whispered, while children made a wide girth from her beige paneled siding two story house.

No one was supposed to be there, with Beth at college in Washington DC, and Chris and David at a friend's house. Yet, as the chill rose up her spine, she felt that something was wrong. 

"What's going on?" she heard someone ask one of the men in blue.

"We received a call about a murder here on the property," he said checking off something on a clipboard.

"There must be some mistake!" Rose shouted and  pushed her way through the throng of people, not hearing anything. She dashed passed the cop, into the house, pulling her daughter with her, toward the bright lights and frenzy of activity in her back yard. Her blood pumped in her ears, deafening the abundance of noise around her, except the sound of her heart beating and her youngest daughter's screams.

It was then she saw Beth, nude stretched out, and surrounded by a blackness that could  only be blood. Scrawled on her pale skin was a simple smiley face. Her head lay in an odd angle and her once lively brown eyes were empty, holding the untold secret of who did it to her.

Rose fell to her knees, slamming them into the now trampled grass, and wailed.

He'd come back as he'd promised. She shook as waves of grief, pain and disbelief hit her. She was supposed to be safe there. But from him, there wasn’t such a thing.

The man that had butchered her family twenty years ago was back.

______________

About Tina: I am the author of THOU SHALL NOT. I love creating three dimensional characters and am always looking for new people to kill…in my stories.

Check out my author's  blog at TinaGlasneck.com and my book is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. You can also connect with me on Facebook and on Twitter.

The Moaning Tree, by Sofie Couch

The Moaning Tree (A Young Adult Ghost Adventure)

It just felt weird, going out on Halloween without Caleb. Caleb’s like my left arm. I don’t often use it, (being right-handed and all), but if it wasn’t there, I’d sure miss it. That’s what this felt like. But would just one Halloween apart really kill me - us? Because 1) Caleb and I have been trick-or-treating together since we both turned eight and my Grandma Skye let us go out alone, (but who was she kidding? We totally knew she was following us in the pick-up truck), 2) Caleb and I have been too old for trick-or-treating for four years, the age limit being twelve, 3) Caleb’s my best friend, but we’re not boy-friend/girl-friend or anything, and 4) when Trey Molenado asks a girl out, the girl says “yes” unless she’s too tongue tied, in which case, she’d say, “yeth.”

But it was doomed from the get-go. Even if it hadn’t been for Caleb being all weird and not quite pouty, but just kind of stoic, Trey doesn’t get trick-or-treating. He showed up in regular street clothes, skinny jeans and tee shirt and his black biker coat and boots, so he could have been going for a James Dean thing, only that’s what he wears all the time. So instead, I was just left looking like an idiot in my zombie cheerleader road kill outfit, complete with a tire track that ran diagonally across the front of my uniform and face.

And Trey made it pretty obvious what he wanted. He kept staring at my chest, and not because of the painted on tire track. I found myself constantly comparing his behavior to Caleb’s – Caleb who treats me like I’m androgynous… or his little sister… or a best-friend who just happens to be female.

“We could bag this whole trick-or-treating thing and just… hang out,” Trey suggested hopefully.

I knew that to be code for make-out and I don’t make-out. I need a purpose.

“Hey,” I spun around and whacked him on the shoulder; because that’s the sort of thing I would have done to Caleb when I came up with a great idea, only Trey looked put out and rubbed his shoulder. Okay, so maybe I hit him harder than I might have, but he wouldn’t stop staring at my breasts. “Let’s go to the moaning tree.”

“Moaning tree?”

“You know that ancient oak in the middle of Lewis and Clark Park?” If we followed the trick-or-treating route that Caleb and I devised to optimize our foot-step to loot ratio, it would take us right through the park, past the statue of Sacagawea and Lewis and Clark, around the bench where all the drug addicts slept, and right past the tree. In all honesty, the whole “moaning tree” thing was totally contrived by me and Caleb.

In Halloweens past, Caleb and I would park ourselves on the back side of the tree where there was a giant cleft. It would have to be giant to hold both me and Caleb who was, shall we say, of disproportionate girth. We would sandwich ourselves in the hollow spot on the back of the tree and speak to passersby through a hollow knot hole that went through to the other side. It sounded as if the tree itself was talking and we’d make up crap to scare little kids. A few times we scared people slightly older than little kids and we had given the tree quite a reputation.

“Yeah. That’s cool.” But he glanced back at my breasts and I started to regret inviting him to the tree. I would just have to make sure he was to the inside of the cleft and I was on the outside.

Trey didn’t show any interest in trick-or-treating and as he was trying to grow a moustache, he really couldn’t pass for twelve years old any more. With me and Caleb, we didn’t really care that we were too old for Halloween. We still hit the homes of the people we knew and raked in plenty of booty. The real fun of Halloween was our time at the tree.

Little kids darted around us in their rubber masks and capes. There were no less than three Minecraft block heads, three kids in a Viking boat with their legs sticking out of the bottom, and the best costume of the evening was a kid in a wheel chair who was decked out like a Transformer. Retro.

At the park, which was really more of a manicured city block, we waited for a lull in trick-or-treaters before moving down the sidewalk, through the bower of boxwoods to the tree. It was dark here. The street lights were spaced far enough apart that there were dark hourglass shapes between the yellow orange arcs of light.

Trey’s heavy heeled biker boots ka-clunked on the sidewalk, because they weren’t quite broken in and didn’t bend with his foot. We hadn’t had a lot of quiet spaces yet during this, our first date, so there hadn’t been any awkward silences before – until now. And it’s only during the awkward silences that you can tell if you click with someone or not. Caleb and I never had awkward silences. It occurred to me then, that I didn’t really know Trey at all. He wore biker boots, but I had never actually seen him on a bike. Caleb wore the same pair of blown out sneakers, because all of his friends had autographed them. Trey wore skinny jeans that highlighted his chicken legs. They don’t make “skinny” jeans in Caleb’s size. Trey wore a black leather biker jacket. Caleb dressed in layers, because that’s what people do when they’re trying to mask their weight. Caleb and I could talk about anything. The only thing Trey and I had in common were my breasts – me, because they’re attached and he, because he wanted to attach himself to them.

“Look. There’s a bench where we could hang-out.”

I knew that bench. There are used hypo needles under that bench. There’s dried vomit on that bench. That bench is somebody’s bed… and toilet.

Suddenly, I didn’t want to share the secret of the moaning tree with Trey. I just wanted to finish the circuit, not get any candy, and go home and call Caleb… and apologize for blowing him off tonight.

“You know, I’m not really feeling great. I think I should head back home.”

But Trey was steady in his purpose of moving toward the bench.

Looking beyond his shoulder, I yelled, “don’t sit there!” I put my hand out at almost the same time he was about to sit and he stopped, butt bent, ready to land. But then I felt stupid, being so vehement about his sitting in dried vomit. “Whatever you do, do not sit on that bench.”

“What?” He jumped up and spun around, looking for whatever was there that wasn’t. “What is it?”

I thought on the fly. “Someone died on that bench.”

“No shit?”

“Yes. Shit. Blood. You name it. All over that bench.”

He swallowed it and his smile faded. “No kiddin’?”

“Yeah. A night, just like this one. There was a little nip in the air. Usually the people walkin’ through this park, they stay to the well lit sections, but this couple, they wanted some place dark, secluded, where they could… you know. That’s why they came here, into the park, where it was darker and they’d have some privacy. So they came here, saw the bench in the shadows and thought, what better place?”

I slipped my hand through Trey’s arm and pulled him along, past the bench. “If only they had kept to the path, to the well lit spaces and moved quickly through the dark patches.” I took a dramatic step out of the arc of the street light and stopped. Trey was snatched back into the dark, and then I took three rapid steps to get us back into the light.

“But they paused. They hesitated a minute too long in the dark patches.” I looked ahead. We were coming up on the moaning tree. “They say even today, some nights, when the weather conditions are just right – a nip in the air, a starless night…” I looked up to point out that the stars were hidden by clouds, “that you can still hear the moaning as he bled out on that bench.”

Trey laughed. “You’re makin’ up this shit. When’d it happen? I think I would have heard about somebody bleeding out in the park.”

“Oh, it was before either of us was born – back in the sixties. He was a biker – a James Dean sort. She was flattered that he had asked her out and she had stood up her steady boyfriend for one night on the wild side. Too bad. Her boyfriend, the steady, reliable one? He snapped!” I snapped my fingers in front of Trey’s face. “He followed his girlfriend and the biker into the park, moved around behind them through the shadows, and when the mismatched couple started making out on that bench, that’s when he made his move. The boyfriend attacked the biker, slitting his throat with a switch blade.” I made movements like I was flicking open a knife, then running it across Trey’s throat. “Diced him up like a pancake.”

“Sounds crazy.”

“For sure. But they never did arrest him. He disappeared into the night, leaving the girl to grieve over the loss. But it’s the biker’s moan that people always hear in this park.”

And just then, the tree moaned.

Trey’s eyes widened. “What the…?”

“Get your hands off of my girlfriendgggrrdgrgrd...” The tree moaned, ending with a gurgling sound, like someone choking on the blood of their own slit throat.

Trey jumped six feet over the hourglass of dark at the moaning tree. His biker boots made a staccato ka-clunk, ka-clunk, ka-clunk, as he beat a path out of the park, leaving me alone at the edge of the dark.

Trey was probably half-way home by the time Caleb extricated himself from the crack in the back of the tree.

“How long have you known I was here?”

I shrugged. “How long did it take us to figure out Grandma Skye was following us in the pick-up truck when we were eight?”

“I didn’t start out stalking you, ya know. I was planning on just comin’ here and scaring the crap out of some trick-or-treaters.”

“I could help.”

“You told Trey you weren’t feeling’ well.”

“I wasn’t.” I slipped my arm through Caleb’s and he and I both looked down at my hand over his forearm. I don’t think I had ever held his arm before. But it wasn’t weird. It was a thrill… for me, at least. “I felt crappy about ditching another guy I’ve had a standing date with every Halloween since we were eight.”

Caleb bent his arm to give my hand a squeeze. “Whoa. Double burn.”

I pulled Caleb to a stop. We were standing in a dark patch of the park. “Double burn? What?”

“First you ditch him for Trey and now you’re ditchin’ him for me?”

I giggled and pulled him with me into the cleft at the back of the moaning tree… where it's dark.

Sofie Couch writes YA Paranormal novels and southern gothic romance. Watch for her upcoming release of a mystery novella featuring the characters in this short story, FLIPPIN’ THE BIRD: A PUDDIN’ PI MYSTERY.

That Sexy Halloween Costume Might Be Closer Than You Think!

Happy Halloween! I’m so excited to be able to share my favorite holiday with you all! This month, I’ve got more costumey goodness than I can get into one blog post, so I’m staging a special event. Today on Below the Fold, I’m going to hit you with some practical ways to bring the sexy to your costumes. Tomorrow on my blog, I will have actual costume suggestions.

Some of you are going, “Yay! I love costumes!” Great! I need you all to gather up over to my right for just a second. I need to have a word with everyone else.

A brief word for those of you who are “too cool” to dress up. Or “too old.” Or frankly, too insecure. That’s fine. I’m not going to try to change you or whatever. I will tell you, however, that those of us in costume are going to have more fun than you are, because we are going to participate in the holiday festivities. You’re welcome to join us, of course; I would never tell you otherwise. But you’ll be a spectator, and we’re going to feel kind of bad for you. Even that guy on the other end of the room – the one wearing the wise-ass T-shirt that says “this is my costume” or some such – he feels bad for you.

The truth is, those of us who are dressed up are daring to spend the evening pretending to be someone else. Just for tonight, we have the confidence to tell the world, “I’m a superhero. I’m a cheerleader. I’m a pilot, or a princess, or a police officer.” And confidence is sexy.

So if you want to join the confident, sexy people and dress up, we’re going shopping right now! If not, well, enjoy the sidelines.

Okay. Before we actually leave for shopping, take a second and decide what you want to be. It is *very* easy to overspend if you do not have a clear vision of what you want to be. If you’re not clear, go online to one of the costume sites, Halloween Express, Spirit Halloween and Party City are all great resources. I have an Uhura costume and a Storm costume from buycostumes.com. I prefer it because it’s got loads of outfits that will cover your body. Not that I’m timid – I’m really not – but I do not relish waking up with pneumonia the morning after my Halloween carousing. Plus the variety is nice. Not everyone is trying to dress up as the slutty version of whatever you might have in mind.

(If you are, don’t let me stop you! But if I catch your cold, I will not hide my displeasure. And remember that argument you had with Mom about having to wear a coat over your costume? Okay, then.)

Take a second and think outside the box. About half a million people are going to be Catwoman this year. If the site ranks the costumes by popularity, start at the back and work forward. You can explore all the women’s costumes in one fell swoop (at press time, BuyCostumes.com had almost 2200 women’s costumes, and Spirit isn’t far behind), or you can check out the various categories for superheroes, historical outfits, and the like.

Don’t go as you. It is possible to wear a costume and still be dressed as you. I stubbornly refuse to wear an outfit that represents any part of my reality, so that means no outfits representing any of my day jobs. If I’m a bartender, and I go somewhere dressed as a bartender, a slutty bartender, an old-timey bartender, or a zombie bartender, I am dressed as myself. The idea is to go dressed as someone or something else. You can go back to being you in November.

Got your vision? Don’t look at the price right now (keep it in mind, though – sales abound this time of year). Just get an idea for what that outfit looks like, what comes in the box, and how excited you are to wear it. I’m going to help you do all that sexy in a practical way.

First stop: Your closet.

Yep. Root around in there for some stuff you already wear. I pulled almost all of a biker outfit out of my closet – jeans, T-shirt, jacket and bandana. I found the white shirt, Mary Jane shoes, blazer, and white knee socks for my schoolgirl outfit right here at home and borrowed (stole) my brother’s school tie. A long, full skirt works for fortune tellers. Wear your regular clothes out of their regular context, and you’ve taken a big step toward costume victory.

Next stop: The thrift store.

Go thrift shopping early. Like now. If you are in a college town, the students are already doing what you’re doing. When I dressed as a schoolgirl, the only thing I needed to buy was a plaid skirt, and I got one from the neighborhood thrift for less than $5. It was a wool blend, too, so I was nice and comfy with no coat – much warmer than I’d have gotten online for ten times as much. Keep your vision in mind and look for whatever you can. Straw cowboy hats. Black biker belts. Those little hoop earrings Uhura wore before the reboot. The lightning bolt earrings Storm wears now. Thrift stores have all that stuff.

Next: Wal-Mart.

If you have shopped your closet and thrift (go to more than one thrift store, and go more than once), it’s time to make the first trip to Wal-Mart. Do NOT go to the Halloween area. Remember your vision and shop the rest of the store. Cowgirls, go to accessories for a straw hat and a bandana. Police hotties, head to the toy section; the badges and cuffs there are often cheaper than the ones at the front of the store. Need a magic wand? Grab a knitting needle for Potter style or head to toys for fairy princess style. If you absolutely cannot find what you need anywhere else in the store (and make an effort, it’s a big place), try the Halloween section, but keep your receipt.

Last stop: that Halloween place.

There are a few costume chains that pop up this time of year – some are the brick and mortar offshoots of those sites we looked at earlier. They are a great resource for costume accessories, makeup, even whole costumes if the above three steps didn’t work out for you. They are also staffed by people who love costumes as much as I do. Go during the off hours -- take a lunch hour there on a weekday – and you’ll have the place to yourself. Tell the folks behind the counter what your vision is. Last year, I uttered one word – “steampunk” – and the clerk’s eyes lit up. Before I knew it, I had a pair of goggles (to wear on my head, of course), a faux pocket watch for my vest, and a bandolier. They’ve got the badges, the jewelry, and wigs like you wouldn’t believe. If you find what you need here, check the price against that Wal-Mart receipt. I bet you’re going back to Wal-Mart to return something.

And one last thing:

Enjoy the ride, neighbors! One year, at a dance party, I saw Batman making out with Catwoman under the stairs, Ric Flair swishing his hair and his boa, Michael Myers dancing to his song (we let him have the dance floor to himself), and a stormtrooper and a Tusken Raider drinking patiently through straws. That was probably seven or eight years ago, and I can still see it in my mind.

Here’s to anonymity, fantasy and wonderful memories! Hit me up with your Halloween memories and plans in the comments, and I will see you tomorrow on my blog with costume ideas!

**Halloween is the intersection of Everyday and Sexy -- no wonder it's Alexa Day's favorite holiday! Now that you've got a Below the Fold shopping plan, be sure to check out alexaday.net on Thursday for 23 hot costume ideas. You'll be sure to find something that suits you!