Saturday, June 30, 2018

Wolf Around the Corner by Aidee Ladnier (Guest post, excerpt, and GIVEAWAY) RBC ADULT title

It is my pleasure to share a guest post by the creative Aidee Ladnier who relates...

FUN FACTS ABOUT Wolf Around The Corner  
by Aidee Ladnier

1.     The main characters of Wolf Around The Corner are named Tom and Frank because I was rebelling against cool and popular names at the time. I wanted two guys that were really different from the norm, with incongruously normal names. Tom is a glamorous actor from New York City. Frank is a werewolf.

2.     The first scene written in Wolf Around The Corner was the “meet cute”. The first image I saw in my mind was Frank crouched naked in the azaleas as the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen stopped to talk to him. In fact, I posted a small snippet of the scene on Facebook the day after I wrote it.

3.     Although I live in a big city now, I grew up in a small town. Similar to the fictional Waycroft Falls, my hometown has a weird statue commemorating a bug infestation, a unique festival once a year devoted to chickens, and a main street sprinkled with historic buildings and shops—including my favorite used bookstore.

4.     Wolf Around The Corner has a Pinterest board! I make boards for most of my stories to get a sense of the characters and cement ideas about the setting in my head. If you’re interested in seeing the board and the images that inspired the story, you can find it here:

5.     During research for Wolf Around The Corner, I learned that the Argentine Tango was practiced openly between men. In Buenos Aires in the 1800s, there were more men than women in the immigrant population. To practice dancing, men danced with other men to ensure that when they finally got a chance to dance with a woman, they did it correctly. From this all male Tango history, the Queer Tango movement arose which embraces the lack of heteronormative roles within the dance.

6.     Wolf Around The Corner is dedicated to two amazing director/actors that I met in college. I’ve seen their work both on stage and behind the scenes. They were both generous with their time and answers when I began asking them questions in preparation for this novel. And they didn’t laugh once when I asked whether the director could also be the bartender at the opening reception.

7.     The idea for a performance space above a bookshop came from two sources. The first is a local theater situated on the top floor of one of my favorite antique stores. I always end up shopping before the show! The second is the Whaley House in San Diego. The house which was a family home, was also a general store, a courtroom, and a theater. In 1868, Thomas Whaley converted a family bedroom into a theater that held 150 people. I saw the tiny theater on a trip to San Diego and ever since I’ve wanted to convert a fictional building to do the same.

8.     The story of the Loathly Lady is the fairy tale that the book is really about. Although the play within Wolf Around The Corner is Beauty and the Beast, the real conflict and resolution is pure Arthurian legend. I first heard the Loathly Lady story in college, in one of the hardest and most entertaining classes that I took there—Chaucer—in the original Middle English. In fact, my classmates and I discussed making a t-shirt that said, “I survived Ms. Braswell’s Chaucer class” just to commemorate its ending. In the Loathly Lady, the beast is a woman. She doesn’t kidnap the object of her affection, but does get him to marry her. And then she reveals that she’s not always an ugly old hag. She can be a beautiful young woman for eight hours of every day. So she asks him—does he want a beautiful wife during the day when he’s showing her off to his fellow knights? Or would he rather have a beautiful bedmate when they are alone together in their private rooms? This decision gets at the heart of what all those beasts in all the stories want—acceptance.

Thanks so much for having me on your blog today!

Wolf Around The Corner

ADULT title
By Aidee Ladnier

About Wolf Around the Corner:
Frank’s family taught him that his wolf was dangerous, unwanted. Now his best friend’s brother wants him in bed and on stage. But giving into his wolf’s need for love could risk the quiet life Frank has created for himself—and his heart. Settled in the small town of Waycroft Falls, Frank is content to be a lone wolf among the white picket fences and dollar book bins until he finds himself sniffing his best friend’s brother. Tom smells like hot apple pie and his Broadway smile has Frank lolling his tongue. But when the visiting actor learns Frank’s secret and plies him with hot kisses to get him to star in his play, Frank can’t help but wonder if Tom is only acting. Tom ran away from family obligations to be a Broadway star. If he could make it there, he could make it anywhere…but he didn’t. Trudging home to Waycroft Falls to open his sister’s new performance space brings him face to face with a werewolf—a werewolf that would be perfect for Tom’s shoestring production of Beauty and the Beast. Staying in Tiny Town USA would be worth it if he can somehow convince the sexy wolf to expose his furry condition on stage and howl privately in Tom’s bed.  

Wolf Around The Corner, a paranormal semi-finalist in Passionate Ink’s 2017 Sexy Scribbles Contest, is a full-length fairytale romance with a side of wolf shifter. If you like your romance with gorgeous men, humor, and small town magic, you’ll love Wolf Around the Corner! Buy your copy now and settle in to watch the drama unfold!

Genre: M/M Paranormal Shifter Contemporary  



The first thing he always did was take a large lungful of air. It reoriented him to the outside. His animal cataloged the smells—car exhaust, grass, tree pollen, and wait, a mouse skittering in the Dumpster out back. Frank’s urge to run built. He circled the apartments, looking for the storm drain near the landscaping wall. Inside him, his animal wiggled in excitement at the prospect of being freed. Frank shucked his clothes behind the wall and tucked them into the shelter of the pipe, out of view. Then he shifted, his hands lengthening, hair sprouting, and muzzle growing. His point of view shortened, now three feet from the ground as he blinked through the eyes of his wolflike animal. Frank couldn’t stand still any longer. He sprang into the woods.

Frank ran, crashing through the underbrush and into the darkening shelter of the trees. He leaped over a shrub, felt the give of a sapling as he plowed through the brushwood. The animals and birds quieted at his loud, headlong dash, knowing he wasn’t of the forest, only disguised and playing at being a creature of the wood.

His paws skidded on a pile of old leaves. Frank almost lost his balance as he skipped up and over a fallen log. Around him, the scents of the forest all pushed in on him. Here a whiff of mold, there an astringent sniff of decay, everywhere the menthol of evergreen sap and wild herbs growing scattered on the forest floor.

Dry twigs snapped beneath his paws. His tongue lolled from his mouth, the fresh taste of the woods painting the back of his throat. The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky inking the tops of the trees. And Frank ran on until his limbs stopped, shaky and trembling. He collapsed onto a blanket of pine needles and leaves, moss and fungi cradling him as he panted.

As he caught his breath, the sounds of the woods lapped back around him. Insects and birds first. A harsh caw from a crow shrieked a hundred yards to his right. The chirp of a cricket sawed a few feet away. The rat-a-tat of a woodpecker echoed above. And the still of twilight calmed him.

When he’d rested enough that his legs would support him again, Frank began the slow jog back to the apartments, letting his nose guide him through the darkening visibility of the woods. He could smell Mrs. Reynolds’s nighttime cocoa, and Mr. Reynolds’s liniment that stank of capsaicin. The lighted windows of the apartment building led him the last few feet, and he scurried up to the storm drain.

But his clothes weren’t there.

The sky darkened into night.

Frank knew Mrs. Anderson was out, but he could try to get the elderly Reynolds couple to buzz him inside. And hope they didn’t ask why he was naked trotting up the stairs.

Or he could stay in wolf form without a tag, which meant a night outside running from animal control and/or dodging every human that would mistake him for a stray dog.

Or wait, a third option. There was an oak that almost reached the ledge of his apartment window on the second floor. He never bothered to lock the window. Frank shifted back to human and sprinted across the yard.

He leaped for the lower boughs of the tree, grunting as the bark dug into the flesh of his palms. Frank swung himself up to straddle a branch, regretting it as the rough wood scraped his thighs. He crouched in the tree, awkwardly trying to shield his more delicate parts from the smaller whiplike twigs. He skirted around the trunk, grimacing as a low branch brushed a little too close to his groin. There. He was now on the side that faced the apartment house.

Frank balanced upright, his arms pinwheeling until he caught another branch higher up to steady himself. The leaves around him shivered on their stalks, the rustling loud. Please don’t let Mrs. Reynolds look out her window.

Using the taller branch as a guide, Frank placed one bare foot in front of the other and inched away from the security of the trunk. The limb beneath his feet shook as his weight tested its strength. He slid a foot farther out on the branch. It dipped, the leaves at the tip brushing against the side of his window. Just a few feet more.

An ominous crack sounded beneath him, and Frank froze. The branch popped again. It wouldn’t hold. He could make a jump for it. Frank swallowed hard. He should make a jump for it.

Frank jumped. And missed the house, falling into the azalea bushes.

Just as his hunky new neighbor from across the hall walked out of the apartment building and down the front steps.

Frank had seen Tom in the hall that morning, carrying boxes. Trying to be neighborly, Frank had introduced himself and offered to help. Tom had turned Frank down but flashed the whitest, most even teeth at him. Frank had seen nothing whiter outside of a movie theater big screen. They’d exchanged pleasantries, commented on the weather, and then gone their separate ways. Or rather, that was what Frank wished had happened. What went down was:

“Need help?” Frank barely got the words out when his new neighbor turned in the doorway. Frank froze. God, the man was gorgeous.

“Naw, man. I got it.” Tom shifted the box in his arms to hold out his hand. “I’m Tom Davidson.”

Frank wiped a clammy hand on his jeans and shook Tom’s hand. “Hot.” And Frank knew his mouth had disclosed the exact thing his brain was thinking. Idiot. Who said that to a guy he’d just met? A guy like Tom already knew he was hot.

Tom tilted his head as if he hadn’t heard Frank right. “Yeah. The temperatures are a little warm for this time of year.”

Frank didn’t dare correct him and kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say something worse.

“Okay, well then, see you around, Frank.” Tom chuckled and continued into his apartment.

Meanwhile Frank beat it down the stairs, unsure how he managed not to walk into traffic as his mind ran over the exchange fail again and again.

So yeah. That was the less than stellar first impression he’d given Tom this morning. And now Frank followed that up by hunkering down naked in the azalea bushes.

“Are you okay?” The gleam from the safety light caught Tom’s dark gold hair as he tilted his head to peer over the shrubs. The shadows sank into his chiseled cheekbones. He looked like a brooding movie star ready to sweep a celluloid damsel off her feet.

Too bad Frank was a naked man trying to keep from exposing himself. Frank crouched down farther, making himself as small as possible, hoping the azalea’s pink blooms would distract Tom from looking at his hairy backside.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Tom leaned closer. “Are you… Do you have any clothes on?”

Frank racked his brain for some reason he’d be naked and hiding in the bushes. “Um, I, uh, just got out of the shower, and I leaned too far out my window.”

“Oh my God. Did you fall from that height?” Tom glanced up to the second floor, to Frank’s closed window and then back down. “Do you need an ambulance?”

Frank sighed. This conversation was only getting worse. Cupping his hands over his privates, Frank rose from behind the bushes.

“I’m okay. Just need to get back inside. I have a hidden key if you can get me past the front security door.”

Tom’s eyes widened when Frank stood. Frank winced, sure he looked like one long scrape covered in leaves. He blew at the hair in his eyes. A twig dangled, caught in an auburn strand, but Frank was unwilling to expose himself to yank it out.

“Sure. Sure.” Tom fumbled for his key and opened the door. Frank half hopped over the acorns and chestnut burrs to slide past Tom. Tom wrinkled his nose as Frank passed. Good old wet dog smell. It always clung to him after a run in the woods.

Frank took the stairs two at a time to escape.

After a shower and shave—why did going furry always lead to needing a shave? The rest of his hair receded. Why didn’t his beard?—Frank spent thirty minutes in front of his bathroom mirror, trying to psych himself up to knock on Tom’s door and invite him over the next day for coffee or to watch football. He scratched behind an ear, feeling the healing scab from a graze he’d gotten when he’d fallen into the azalea bushes. Staring at his reflection, he tried to look earnest and approachable. He could do this. He had game.

“Hey, I know you don’t know many people in town, and I’m a loser, but would you like to spend time with me?” Frank made a face at himself. Probably shouldn’t label yourself as a loser.

“Yo, you want to watch football? No, how about basketball? Baseball? No? What about Mexican wrestlers?” Oh God, what if Tom doesn’t like sports?

“I ordered two large pizzas by mistake tonight, and I could use some help, or I’ll be gorging on pepperoni for a week.”

Lame. Frank’s own gaunt features stared back at him from the mirror. Who was he kidding? He’d always be the guy who lost the genetic lottery and ended up with the family curse.

Galen’s syndrome was rare, only affecting about one in 2,000, but well-known enough that most people had at least heard of it. The Greek surgeon Galen had coined the word lycanthropy to explain the shape-shifting curse that traveled down through a family tree. Like most recessive gene disorders, it only manifested when two genes were passed down to a child, leading early scholars to think the afflicted had been re-cursed or spared for a generation due to divine providence. It was only with modern medicine that curses were found to be attached to DNA, breaking and molding chromosomes like magical radiation. But despite better understanding of the disorder, the stigma remained, not helped by the occasional local television feature linking the disorder to werewolf mythology.

All Frank knew was the recessive curse gene made him even more different from his family. He’d already been pushing it when he came out as gay. Turning into a wolf at sixteen had been…well, more than his father and stepmother could handle. She wanted to protect the kids, she told him. He loved his half siblings, didn’t he? It wasn’t safe to have a wild animal around children.

It had gutted him. They turned him out of his own home. He’d been angry. He’d done something stupid, lashing out, snapping at his sister Robbie. It still hurt, remembering the tears on his baby sister’s face, her eyes wide and scared. Of him. It was then he knew his stepmother had been right. Dangerous animals didn’t belong in a family. So he’d left, traveling all the way across the state until he landed in Waycroft Falls. It had been hard that first year. There were a lot of adult things he still hadn’t figured out.

Like how to ask out a guy who he hadn’t known his whole life. Moving from one small town to another had been a bad idea. Frank bonked his head against the mirror, gazing down into the white porcelain sink. He rubbed at a stray hair that clung to the side.

But on the plus side, small towns meant he rarely needed a car. And he could shift and run if he needed. He should take his clothes with him.

Buy Links: 

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About the Author:  Aidee Ladnier, an award-winning author of speculative fiction, believes that adventure is around every corner. In pursuit of new experiences she's worked as a magician’s assistant, been a beauty pageant contestant, ridden in hot air balloons, produced independent movies, hiked up a volcano, and is a proud citizen scientist. A lover of genre fiction, Aidee's perfect romance has a little science fiction, fantasy, mystery, or the paranormal thrown in to add a zing.  

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Aidee is giving away a $5 Amazon GC, $10 Amazon GC, Ebooks from her backlist, print books from her backlist. 

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Don't forget you have a chance to enter every day so be sure to visit all the stops on this tour. You may find those locations here.

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My review for Reading Alley:

4 out of 5 stars

Wolf Around The Corner by Aidee Ladnier is a paranormal m/m romance story that features a not-quite-successful New York actor who comes back to the small town of Waycroft Falls to help his sister start her new business. He has a spark with one of her employees and convinces the man to perform in a version of “Beauty and the Beast.” It turns out he really can morph into a beast. Perfect for the play, not so great for his assimilation into the close-knit small town.

I enjoy the way this author turns common themes on end and provides a unique way of looking at things. There is an intriguing explanation for the ability of certain humans to shift into wolves with the twist of ascribing the talent to a curse. I was drawn to both main characters, each of whom has to deal with society’s perceptions and the difficulty of maintaining a façade for the world, and the delightful parallel between the play being performed and the events taking place in real life kept me invested in the story.

This is a great twist on a beloved fairy tale and a nice blend of science and fantasy. I have only read a few stories written by this talented author, but each one has impressed me with her imagination and talent for creating a compelling tale and I look forward to reading even more of her titles.

A copy of this title was provided to me for review

Friday, June 29, 2018

What You Don't Learn in Film school: A Complete Guide to Independent Filmmaking by Shane Stanley (Spotlight and excerpt) PUYB


by Shane Stanley

 199 pp., $19.99 (paperback) $8.99 (kindle)

Multi Emmy-Award winning filmmaker Shane Stanley, a lifelong entertainment industry insider, has worked in every aspect of the film industry, covering a multitude of movies, television shows, and other projects. In his valuable new book, WHAT YOU DON’T LEARN IN FILM SCHOOL: A COMPLETE GUIDE TO INDEPENDENT FILMMAKING, Stanley takes a candid look at the film business and offers ambitious young filmmakers important information on how to navigate every aspect of making movies, from initial pitch to distributing a finished product. The book “is written for anyone who hopes to have a career in the industry at any position, but (is) geared for (the) total filmmaker,” Stanley says.

Producer Neal H. Moritz (“Fast & Furious,” “S.W.A.T.,” “21 and 22 Jump Street”), says that WHAT YOU DON’T LEARN IN FILM SCHOOL “pulls no punches. It’s one of the most insightful and accurate books ever written on the subject, a master class bridging the gap between school and real-life experience that will save you years of heartache. A must-read for anyone interested in pursuing a career in film.”

Jane Seymour, two-time Golden Globe and Emmy Award winner, actress, producer and founder of the Open Hearts Foundation, declares that Stanley’s “step-by-step guide is a must-read for anyone hoping to break into the world of independent cinema, along with many useful tips for those who desire to work within a studio or network system.”

Jeff Sagansky, former president of Sony Entertainment and CBS Entertainment, notes that “Shane Stanley takes you to a film school that only years of practical experience can teach. He covers both the business of independent filmmaking as well as the hard-earned secrets of a successful production. A must-read for anyone who wants to produce.”

A lifelong veteran of the film world, Stanley has directed and produced hundreds of film and television projects, including the 2006 No. 1 Box Office hit “Gridiron Gang,” starring Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. His clearly-written guide to navigating the shoals of independent filmmaking comes from his hands-on experience, covering such topics as choosing what material to produce, raising independent capital, hiring a production crew and selecting the right cast.

WHAT YOU DON’T LEARN IN FILM SCHOOL is an essential book written by someone who clearly understands the independent film business from the inside.

I always advise new filmmakers to play in an arena they’re not only passionate about but also comfortable in. As you find your legs I think it’s wise to have all the bases covered of your chosen genre, which will aid when executing creative discussions with your filmmaking team and onscreen talent, but more so when pitching your project to potential investors. They’ll appreciate your expertise on the subject and sense the passion you possess as the gibberish naturally rolls off your tongue.

Remember, when you pitch an investor to finance a film, you’re selling something different. You’re selling the magic and the sizzle of Hollywood and most importantly, you’re selling yourself along with the upside (or fallacy) of what their investment might return. If someone is really in the position to write a check to finance a film, they’re probably pretty savvy. Trust me, they have been pitched everything from financing movies, to night clubs, clothing lines and widgets by someone a lot slicker and more qualified than you. Investors know they hold the key to unlocking the door to the dreams that can change your life, so go deep in thought when creating a presentation…because you’re pitching them on a fantasy (smoke and mirrors), not real estate or something they can look, touch or feel at the moment.


Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Multi-Emmy Award winning filmmaker Shane Stanley has worked in almost every capacity on and off the set starting with hit shows like “Entertainment Tonight” and “Seinfeld.”

Along with his father, Stanley produced “The Desperate Passage Series,” which was nominated for 33 individual Emmy Awards and won 13 statues. In this series, five of the seven specials went No.1 in Nielson Ratings, which included “A Time for Life” and “Gridiron Gang.”

Stanley has produced films starring Marlon Brando, Mira Sorvino, Thomas Hayden Church, Donald Sutherland, Marisa Tomei and Martin Sheen. He co-wrote two of the films and has worked closely with top Hollywood executives.

Stanley has taught workshops at many film schools and universities. He is the founder of Visual Arts Entertainment, a production company based in Los Angeles. He is still active in teaching, working with several schools, film students, and recent grads as a mentor and guide.

His latest book is What You Don’t Learn in Film School: A Complete Guide to Independent Filmmaking.







Thursday, June 28, 2018

Windsong & Requiem - Of a Great Deep by Chad Hunter (VBT, excerpt, and GIVEAWAY) GFT ADULT title

I have the pleasure of sharing a guest post by author Chad Hunter, who answers my question...

ELF: What was the most difficult thing to overcome on your path to becoming a published author and how did you conquer it?

CH:  There seems to always be several difficulties to overcome.  I think to be a writer is to be a creator.  Creating anything is not easy and there will always be some level of pushback.  Some people view it as life knocking you around but others see it as the test.  Like “how bad do you want this?”  I think that trial by fire is a great chance to move past the obstacles and into the opportunities. 

Time-management has always been a challenge.  I have a family, additional job duties and a life that all need time and attention.  I remember, right around the time my son was born, people were telling me I would never have time to write again.  I took those words of negativity as a collective chance to say “Oh yeah?  Watch this!”  In addition to having a busy life, I also do a lot of public speaking, especially to children, about the importance of creativity.  So, for Of a Great Deep, finding the time to do the research, formulate the plot and get the book done was challenging.  I write a lot in the morning, at night, at lunch and wherever I can.  Even five minutes of writing is better than none.  I am a writer and to not write is like not breathing.  I need oxygen.  I need to write.  So, I find the time even if its waiting for an oil change or at the doctor’s office, etc.  Even if it’s with a pocket journal, I write.

I’d say another challenge is dealing with the voice of doubt that I believe every creative person has to deal with.  “You’re not good enough.”  “This isn’t good enough.”  “No one wants to read this.”  All of these emotions and more run through my mind when I’m striking out on another literary voyage.  I think we all have to dance with self-doubt, fear, worry to some degree.  But, I remind myself of my past accomplishments, I surround myself with positive people and items (I love daily inspirational quotes.) Ultimately, I feel a connection and responsibility to the story, its characters and the need to see their tale told.

Last but not least is the difficult truth that I have a finite amount of energy!  I know my peak times to write.  I know the moments when my body and mind are ready to crank out stories.  I am learning to accept those moments when it’s time to get some sleep.  It’s about balance I think.  Give my body the rest it needs and it will provide me with the focus and energy to achieve what I want.  Funny thing is that there are times when I am beyond tired and I do keep writing.  My Beta Readers will know these moments because as they read my drafts, there will be random ellipses on a page that go nowhere.  LOL!  It’s a signature move now! 

Plus, when I’m tired I am reminded that the Good Lord made coffee!  God bless that goat (look up the discovery of coffee and you’ll thank the goat too!)



by Chad Hunter


GENRE:   Pirate fantasy, Mature



The year is 1716. The world is in the Golden Age of Piracy and fabled ships sail the seven seas. One such vessel is the Requiem, captained by the young but wise, brave but dubious Nabopolassar “Bo” Travis. Alongside his first mate Ghassan, quartermaster Winter Burke and navigator Glover, Travis seeks treasure, female company and good drink. The Requiem’s legendary adventures are filled with tales of monsters and myths - all of which are true. Now, someone or something is sailing the seas in search for a treasure chest – a chest that holds unknown riches which only promise to change the world forever. Captain Travis, his crew and a beautiful young map reader must brave the dark and the deep to find the treasure. Will the Requiem find the X on the spot before the infamous Captain George “Bloody-Face” Fiddick does? Will Travis uncover the secret behind the cursed black ship which changed his young life forever? And will the treasure chest truly be full of riches or does something far more insidious lie in wait? Ready your flintlock. Sharpen your sword. The Requiem awaits.



"I was wondering when I would hear from you again," Bloody Face began.  He spoke to the
skull as if he expected it to return the conversation. And it did.

"Captain Fiddick," the jaw-less skull began.  The words came from the skull, more so from
around it somehow.  It was hollowed and beyond characterization.  It was both male and
female voices overlapped.  There was no accent or hint of particular dialect.  "Your preliminary voyages and excavations have proven useful.  You have eliminated possible locations of that which I seek.  I trust you received your payment?"

"Aye," the pirate answered, "I've been hired before.  Been a privateer a time or two yet no
one ever paid me in full advance."

"That is because gold is not the true goal of the legendary Bloody Face Fiddick."

"And what is, specter?"

"I am no specter, Captain.  Merely someone who can communicate through means long forgotten.  I know that you desire something more than riches.  Something everlasting."

The pirate looked at the possessed bone on his desk.  

"Speak your peace, enigma."

"CAPTAIN!" the navigator called out.  "THERE'S WOOD!  WOOD IN THE WATER!"
Windsong & Requiem

Bo cursed repeatedly.  "Damn, damn, damn, no, no--!"  Ghassan moved quickly alongside
the man.  


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Chad Hunter was born in East Chicago, Indiana. Raised by a single mother in the city's Harbor section, he is the youngest of four. Growing up in the Midwest and a proudly self-proclaimed "Region Rat," Hunter has written and published several books and novels. He has written for magazines and newspapers throughout North America and has been published in several languages. His writings have been called sophisticated yet humorous, sharp witted and unrelenting.
Most often, Hunter's writings have been considered so wide and diverse that they span a scale that would include multiple writers with multiple forms.  In addition to being a published author and journalist, Hunter is also a professional speaker.  Having presented to high schools, colleges and various other audiences, his talks and discussions center around the positive impact of literary and creative presences in one’s life.  A large portion of Hunter’s focus is on the uncanny strength of human connectedness which is emphasized via the lens of writing and creativity.
Working in genres including dark fantasy, memoirs, science-fiction and anecdotal collections, Hunter weaves tales of monsters, heroes, zombies, wedding planning, technology, pirates and even black parakeets.  With over ten books under his belt, If anything binds his varied styles, it is Hunter's theme of the human condition, humor and family closeness - all to the backdrop of romantic love, vibrant remembrance and even monsters themselves.



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