Happy Thursday, friend! Welcome to a book excerpt+interview about a horror novel. I have Holly Payne-Strange with me to talk about Strange And Twisted Things.
Get to know the author: Holly Payne-Strange
Hi Holly! Welcome to Armed with A Book. Tell me and my readers a bit about yourself!
Hey, thanks for having me! I’m a writer across many mediums, in addition to novels, I’ve also had some poetry published recently, and my narrative sci-fi podcast, Echoes, was featured in USA today and LA weekly, which I’m really proud of.
On a more personal note though, I currently live in the big apple with my wife and our three cats, all of whom I’m crazy about! Apart from writing, I love studying languages. I’m very comfortable in Italian and currently working on Mandarin and Norwegian. There’s something about the puzzle of languages which is fascinating to me. How we construct meaning as a species is such a wonderful mystery. This idea that I can have a thought or feeling, and somehow transfer that to you via words is absolutely incredible to me.
What inspired you to write this book?
As with a lot of my writing, many different influences and inspirations came together to write this book. It is the product of a very specific time in my life, I don’t think I could write anything even vaguely close to it again. That’s not to say I don’t want to write more horror, but this story comes from a very particular place.
I wrote the original manuscript (sixty thousand words) in about eight days. This was a very, very chaotic time period for me. I had just received some very exciting news, something I had been waiting for for almost a decade was finally happening. So, I was incredibly happy, joyous even. But my mother was also undergoing issues with her heart (she had just had surgery and there were serious complications), and I was also dealing with the loss and grief of two other relationships that were very close to me. So I was distraught. And I was both of these things simultaneously, and the only way I knew how to cope with all that…was to write this novel. I’ve started to think of it as a ‘happy darkness’, and I think that comes through in it.
How long did it take you to write this book, from the first idea to the last edit?
I can’t really remember when I had the idea. That was quite some time ago, but it stayed far at the back of my mind. From the moment of plotting it to finishing the first draft was around eight days. Then, I put it to the side and ignored it for about a month, because I wanted to look at it with fresh eyes, I think that’s really important. It’s nice to be surprised by your work, when you can be. Then came rewrites, beta readers (shout out to my mum!), editors and proofreaders. That took far longer than the initial writing process. All in all, I would say about five months.
What makes your story unique?
I am a big fan of horror, and paranormal books in particular, but I often find that I’m more interested in the ghosts than the protagonists! It’s fascinating to think about what would make a person so angry, so obsessive, so strong that they continue to haunt a space after their death. And that applies to other tropes too. Why would someone love a doll so much that it becomes possessed? Why are there so many locked doors in horror stories, who created those doors, and what was their original purpose? Why are so many ghosts historical women, does it have anything to do with their struggle for autonomy in life?
I really wanted to explore those questions more, and from that, this book was born!
Greta is also in her seventies, which I think sets her apart. I don’t see many elderly protagonists.
Who would enjoy reading your book?
This book is about two women diverting from the societal norms of their time. It’s about them discovering how much fun it can be not to give a damn, and what it’s like to go after what you really want- no matter what other people say. I’m not saying Greta is right in any way, but she is a fearless defender of her way of looking at the world.
For that reason, I think it would appeal to anyone who wants to see life a little differently, maybe rebel a little. Or, anyone who wants a dash of creepiness in their lives!
What’s something you hope readers would take away from it?
Honestly, I just hope that they have fun! If they get anything more than that, I hope it is a sense that ‘the rules’ of normal, everyday life can often be far more flexible and fluid than we think. Sometimes we are the only thing holding ourselves back.
Do you have a favorite quote or scene in the book that you find yourself going back to?
Gosh, that’s such a difficult question to answer! I find that I either love every word I write or hate the entire book, depending on what mood I’m in. But I quite like this quote;
She ached to see such beauty, to witness a moment so profound it echoed through time. She could remember when she didn’t believe in ghosts, didn’t believe in any of the strange things that had happened here. She was so glad that had changed. This was magic, actual magic, and it was all hers. She felt almost as if it were a duty to witness it, something so important should not go unnoticed.
I think it underlines Greta’s changing perspective of the world, and a deep appreciation she has for the strangeness of life.
If you could give a shout out to someone(s) who has helped in your writer journey, please feel free to mention them below!
Ah! I feel like there are too many people to mention, but just to start with, my amazing wife, Iris. She is such a wonderful support to me, and I’ll never forget those evenings at some cozy bar, riddling out my latest plot hole, or debating my characters. Also to my mum, who beta reads everything I write, to my dad who is an unending help, to my muse without whom I could not have written this book, and to my aunt Kristan who is an invaluable source of advice.
Where can readers find you on the Internet?
Well, my books can be found on Amazon and Barnes And Noble, my podcast is here, and you can follow me on Instagram!
Strange And Twisted Things
In a quiet village nestled deep within the heart of Italy, an elderly woman finds herself abandoned by her family, the depth of her loneliness almost overwhelming. Seeking solace in a decaying house, Greta clings onto the memories of her estranged husband, whose absence haunts her every waking moment.
As she steps over the threshold of her new home, the house awakens with an ominous energy, enveloping her in its unsettling embrace. Strange occurrences plague Greta’s days, while chilling whispers echo through its dilapidated hallways. Only one fact cheers her- she is clearly not alone.
Caught between the longing for companionship and the terrifying consequences of embracing darkness, Greta must make a harrowing choice. Will she succumb to the allure of the house’s sinister inhabitants, finally gaining the company she so desperately craves, or will she break free from their clutches and confront the horrors that lurk within?
“Strange and Twisted Things” is a chilling tale set against the scenic backdrop of Italy, where Greta’s unwavering love battles against the very essence of evil itself.
Book Excerpt from
Strange And Twisted Things
The two women stood slowly, knees creaking. With a sign, they took in one last lungfull of dappled sunlight, before heading into the musty basement.
“Woooooo….” Mary-Beth said, doing her best imitation of a ghost. Greta couldn’t help but smile, she had tried to warn her best friend, of course. Told her about the ghosts and shadows, but she hadn’t bought a word of it, had insisted instead on taking Greta to the heart of the haunting, to prove her wrong. She still held on tight to the banister as they descended the stairs, but, really it wasn’t so bad. She reached over and clicked on the only light, necessary even in the day time, and that made it even better.
She hadn’t been afraid the first time she came down here, she remembered, and there was no need to be now. She didn’t think she was crazy, logically speaking. But it was so hard to actually believe yourself, to trust your own senses when you knew the whole world would disagree. She swallowed hard.
“Let’s open this door then.” Mary Beth said, holding her hand out for the keys. Fine, Greta wanted to scream. Prove that I’m mad, that I’ve been ruined, used and abandoned. That I have been pushed too far, pushed to a place normal people don’t go, that I am, deep down inside, broken. That I’d rather live with ghosts and demons than live alone. Fine. Prove it to me.
As she passed them over, her hand was shaking, a fact she tried in vain to hide.
“It’s cold down here,” Greta explained, though she knew a pre-emptive excuse made her seem even more guilty. She just didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do. And it was breaking her. She suddenly felt so foolish, so small and stupid.
Mary-Beth took the keys, turning to the door without a word. That’s when the lights went out. The bulb exploded, one bright flash of light before total darkness.
And then those eyes, bright and starring out of a featureless face. Greta’s whole body went numb, a scream ripping its way through her body. For just one horrible second she stared at it, and it stared back, as if it could look into her very soul. And then she ran. She flew up the stairs, only one thought in her mind – get to the light.
She could hear Mary-Beth close behind her, she prayed it was her breath she felt, warm and wet on her neck, and not something worse. She was almost to the door, hand just grazing the doorknob when there was an almighty crash.
Mary-Beth had fallen, hitting every stair on the way down and collapsing into a heap on the basement floor. The eyes stood over her, something like a smile playing around them. Greta charged forward, racing to the kitchen, grabbing the salt. Praying it would work yet again.
She tore back to the top of the basement stairs, throwing it down as far as she could. It landed in soft arcs, like snow, each grain scattered delicately, uselessly. Far too thin a spread to be effective. What’s more, the eyes seemed to be ready for it now. A faint breeze emanated from it, waving away the grains and pushing them back up to her. It took its time, aware she was mesmerized, seeming to enjoy this show of strength and intelligence. She realized suddenly that it wanted her to watch, wanted her to know, to be scared.
Slowly, delicately, it bent low over Mary-Beth, one hand curled around her face, tilting her up. Greta wanted to sob, but she knew she didn’t have time. Instead she plunged her hand into her pocket, fingers trembling over her phone as she desperately tried to turn on the flashlight.
A weak beam shot down the stairs. It wasn’t enough. The eyes blinked, jumping slightly. It didn’t seem to like the light particularly. But that was all. It wrapped a hand around her neck, squeezing once more, Mary Baths body trembling, squeezing, kicking out against nothing.
Greta would have to get closer. Light held in front of her like a shield, she crept down the stairs, legs trembling. The shadow’s grip on Mary-Beth tightened, and she began to gasp, fighting for air, eyes rolling back in her head.
Greta was almost there, and she knew this would be the tricky part. Grabbing her friend, and holding onto the light. She did the best she could. She suddenly jumped the last few steps, wrapping one hand around Mary-Beth’s outstretched leg, before turning tail and running once more.
It hurt, a lot. Mary-Beth was heavy, and she was slow. Mary’s head hit each step as they went up, a horrible thud, thud, thud. She had to take a break every few steps, the weight of her body too much of Greta’s frail hands. But the shadow was at her back. She could feel it now, its breath hot on her neck, one freezing cold hand on her shoulder, almost, almost close enough to…
But the salt it had thrown back towards her was working. She could feel the grit under her feet and she knew each step must be harder and harder for it. Finally, in what seemed more like petulant anger than an actual plan, it pushed her, sending her knees crashing into the next step. It hurt more than she could describe and she was sure she had broken something. But it had pushed her into the landing, into safety and out of darkness. She had left the door to the ground floor beautifully open, and life saving light was pooling out from it. She had to crawl the rest of the way, body too spent to do anything else. For a moment she just breathed, Mary-Beth’s limp body next to her.
The ambulance came remarkably swiftly. She must have been in shock, or passed out, as she lost all sense of time from this point onwards. It seemed as if one moment she was calling the emergency line, and the next the ambulance was there, Mary-Beth being carried out on a stretcher.
Everyone assumed it was an accident, of course. An old lady falling down some stairs was hardly cause for a police investigation. And Greta was too scared to mention anything. If her best friend didn’t believe her…who would?
Interested?
Find Strange And Twisted Things on Goodreads and IndieStoryGeek. This one is one my TBR.
Thanks for taking the time to join us for this interview! 🙂
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