Witch of Willow Lake Playlist & Excerpts


Anyone who has ever written, well, anything knows that a big part of getting to that final product is the editing, revising, and proofreading. And let me tell you, that can be a very tedious job. Well, as I was on maybe my third of fourth read-through of WWL, my edit-weary mind began singing me songs during certain story scenes.

Now that I’m (finally) finished revising, and the book has been released, I though it would be fun to make a list of some of those songs and pair them with excerpts from the story. So in this post, you’ll find five of the songs that have been playing incessantly through my head for the past few weeks (months?).

Highway to Hell – AC/DC

It would be an understatement to say Kyr’s brother Luther doesn’t approve of her ghost-hunting hobby. In fact, he tells her she’s on the way to eternal damnation.

“It’s bad enough that you’re dragging Kyr into that occult nonsense. Don’t think for a minute that I’m going to stand by and let you influence my kids that way.”

Enough was enough. I shot up out of my chair and jabbed a finger into Luther’s chest. “Luther, you need to back off now. You have no right—“

He smacked my hand away and glared down at me. “I have every right to protect my children from negative influences. I may have lost you, but I will not lose Eli.”

“Lost me? Lost me to what?”

“All this ooky-spooky garbage you’re running after lately. Dad was always afraid you’d get mixed up in something you couldn’t handle and lose your soul to the devil, but I thought you had more sense.” His expression was a combination of sorrow and disgust. “I guess Dad knew what he was talking about all along.”

I sputtered with indignation, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Luther, what is wrong with you? I am not mixed up in something I can’t handle.” We just won’t mention what happened in the bell tower. Or in Borland, for that matter. “And I have not sold my soul to the devil.”

“I didn’t say you sold your soul to the devil; that would require a conscious decision. I said you lost it, meaning you let yourself slide little by little, not even realizing you’re slipping away until it’s too late.” His eyes blazed like the coals in the fire pit, and he gesticulated wildly as he spoke, looking every bit like the fire-and-brimstone preachers he liked to watch on TV.

The back of my scalp prickled at his words, and a part of me wondered if he might be right. My mouth opened to respond, but all that came out was a confused huff. Spook shouldered his way around me to come to my defense, but before he could speak, Luther turned accusing eyes on him. “I just never thought you’d have help. And here I thought Trevor was bad news.”


Witchcraft – Robert Palmer

For months, Kyr, Spook, and the gang have assumed they were investigating a simple haunting involving the spirit of a young coed who perished in a fire. One night, Kyr finds evidence that there may be more involved:

I let the book fall open once more, this time to the Table of Contents, and trailed my finger down the list of chapter titles, waiting for something to jump out at me. “Humble Beginnings, Hidden Treasure, Strange Creatures of Clinton County, In-laws and Outlaws, Indian Lore, The Witch of Willow Lake, School Spirits…wait, what?” I blinked my eyes hard, disbelieving what I saw. I must be more tired than I thought. The title of Chapter Six, “The Witch of Willow Lake,” seemed to hover above the page, begging to be noticed. A witch?

I swallowed hard as a lump of dread welled up in my throat, threatening to choke me. Something stirred in my subconscious, and I vaguely recalled suspecting witchcraft or some occult ritual when I first heard about the charred book and the candles found in the bell tower. Surely this witch wasn’t part of the Appleton bell tower saga. Was it?

My fingers were clumsy as I flipped the pages of the book to Chapter Six. The spine cracked in protest, scattering dust and frayed pieces of the cover into my lap. Finding the page I was looking for, I began reading. “Do you believe in witchcraft? In curses? You don’t? If you had lived at the northern edge of what is now the community of Willow Lake in the mid-eighteenth century, you might not be so quick to dismiss the idea.” The account went on to tell of a lone elderly woman who arrived in the pre-Willow-Lake settlement just north of town one autumn day. The men of the settlement helped her build a small, primitive shanty, just enough to get her through the winter months. My scalp prickled as the cabin from my visions suddenly loomed in my mind.


Somebody’s Watching Me – Rockwell

As if the spirit of a witch wasn’t enough to deal with, almost as soon as Kyr arrives back in Willow Lake, she realizes she is being stalked by a mysterious dark figure that no one else can see.

Without warning, the back of my neck began prickling, and I had the uncomfortable sensation that someone was watching me. I froze in the pew where I sat, afraid to turn around lest I find that an unfriendly person stood at the back of the sanctuary. I held my breath and strained to hear through the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. I was certain no one had come in; heaven knew no one could have entered the church without those doors announcing their presence. The creak and pop of someone stepping on a loose floorboard finally made me whirl around and call out, “Hello?”

No one was there. My eyes scanned the entire sanctuary, looking for any sign that I wasn’t alone, but I found nothing. Still, the feeling of being watched remained. A sudden movement above made me raise my eyes to the balcony at the rear of the sanctuary. My breath caught as I spotted a figure silhouetted against the side of the stained glass window in the center of the balcony. I stood and started slowly up the aisle, calling out again, “Hello? Who’s there?”

There was no answer, but the figure moved as though trying to edge out of sight. Suddenly and inexplicably terrified, I dashed up the aisle and out of the church, not caring that I slammed the doors behind me. I raced down the front stairs, across the street, and up onto the levee, frantic to put as much distance as I could between me and whoever had been watching me inside the church. I kept running until I passed the amphitheater and reached the area where the Street Faire vendors were preparing their booths. When I got to the stairs that led down to the street, I rushed blindly down them, hoping to lose myself in the knots of people beginning to mill about.


Don’t Pay the Ferryman – Chris deBurgh

I love this seldom-played song. It’s got a combination of a catchy tune, a mythological reference, and a sense of creepiness that lends itself well to the mood I was trying to capture in this story. It ties in well with the message Kyr and Spook hear repeatedly, that pursuing the mystery of Mary Bollinger and the Witch of Willow Lake will bring them no end to trouble.

“Not Mary Bollinger…” The woman’s face had gone white, and I sensed that she had just reached the same realization about the decades-old haunting. Her expression suggested she was weighing her desire to examine this revelation against her fear of what would happen if the truth came out. Fear won out, and she shook her head wildly, pleading, “No. No good can come of pursuing this. Please, just let the story die with those who were in the bell tower that night.”

“You know as well as I do it doesn’t work that way,” Spook blazed. “This thing didn’t start in 1958; it started two hundred years ago, and it’ll go on for another two hundred if something isn’t done.”

I found my tongue and joined the discussion. “The story won’t die with those who were there that night. There will always be someone who knows some part of the story. And that’s the problem, that no one knows the whole story. If we had the whole story, maybe we could find a way to end this once and for all.”

The book seller’s eyes turned to smoldering blue coals as she regarded the two of us. We had so many more questions to ask, but we knew that pressuring her now would only make her more determined to withhold information. After a long moment, she stood, letting us know the conversation was over.


Spooky – Atlanta Rhythm Section

This is just a short little fluff scene that I decided to keep. This song has been running through my head since Kyr and Spook got together in Book 2, but there’s a line in the song that really piqued my interest towards the end of the story, and it may come into play in the next book. I leave you to guess about that one…

Shaking my head, I switched off the light and walked out of the bathroom. The steady buzz of a beard trimmer drifted through the connecting door, and I stopped short when I heard Spook’s voice. Was he talking to someone? I went to the doorway and stuck my head through. He wasn’t talking; he was singing. I stifled a giggle as I recognized the Atlantic Rhythm Section song from my mom’s music collection. A Spook and a spooky girl. You can’t get a spookier combination than that.

I tried to ignore the shudder that went through me as I thought of the scene from my vision earlier this afternoon. No, that’s not spooky, I thought. That’s downright horrifying.


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October Frights Blog Hop



It’s the most wonderful time of the year….

Well, at for me it is. I love Autumn, October, and Halloween, so I’m excitedly preparing for the October Frights Blog Hop, happening from October 10th – 15th. Get ready for a virtual trick-or-treat of horror and paranormal authors.

Witch of Willow Lake–Cover and Blurb Reveal

We’re finally in the home stretch! I’m still working on the novel itself (a few plot twists jumped in, which means I’ve had to rewrite scenes and change the ending), but I’ve got a stunning new cover done by Ravenborn, as well as the blurb.

Isn’t it exciting to have the first visual of the ruggedly-handsome Spook Steele? I love what Raven did with his expression in this shot–he’s looking at Kyr as though he knows she’s hiding something. Could it be something she found in the book she holds?



A book of local folklore may hold the key to solving a mystery…

Left with unanswered questions after the paranormal investigation at Willow Lake College, Kyrie Carter vows to discover the events leading up to the fire in Appleton Hall’s bell tower that took Mary Bollinger’s life in 1958. Her research leads to a book of legends written by a local historian. Kyr’s sense of obligation borders on obsession as she redoubles her efforts to locate the out-of-print book. She is cautiously optimistic when the book arrives anonymously to her workplace.

…but is it also a portal for an evil from the past?

Almost immediately, Kyr is plagued by terrifying visions—a cabin in the woods,  a mysterious woman who calls to her, ominous words chanted in an unfamiliar language. Discovering evidence of a witch in Willow Lake’s past leads Kyr to believe her visions are more than bad dreams, and that there is more to Mary Bollinger’s story than anyone realized.

When Mary’s fiancé, Warren McKnight, agrees to break his decades-long silence about the fire, Kyr and Spook return to Willow Lake. Something in Warren’s account of that tragic night tells Kyr that she was not the witch’s first target, and she will not be the last, unless she can find a way to defeat the evil spirit.

Cakes I Have Baked

I used to love baking. I’d come up with some clever idea for the kids’ birthday cakes and try to bake up this masterpiece. Usually it was more epic fail than epic, but then I guess that’s part of the family fun. For today’s Daily Post, I’d like to share a few of my favorites.


This is the Scooby Doo cake I made for my older son’s 4th birthday. I searched high and low for a Wilton cake pan for the base and then did the best I could with the frosting part. It came out okay, I guess.


This was the cake I made for my younger son’s 3rd birthday. As you might have guessed, he was really into trains at the time, so I came up with this idea on my own. Again, not epic, but he enjoyed it.


This was one that I kind of count as an epic fail because it may look cute, but really didn’t taste good at all. I decided to be clever and bake a cake for the 100th anniversary of the bra. Hey, don’t judge me; it was all over Facebook, and I wanted to be creative. I baked it in a Pyrex bowl, which didn’t work AT ALL. I just couldn’t figure out the length of time to bake it, and it came out dry around the edges and barely done in the middle. Yeah, this one left me feeling like a boob.

I haven’t baked much in recent years, well at least not creatively. I keep it simple now by just baking out of a box and being done with it. Maybe I’ll pick it up again someday.


CL Gaber’s Ascenders Saga


(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ Book and Review Blog Tour¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸
🌟Author: CL Gaber
🌟Genre: #Paranormal, #Young Adult, #Urban Fantasy
-(Volume 1) Ascenders: High school for the recently departed
-(Volume 2) Ascenders: Skypunch
🌟The Saga has been Nominated in 4 different categories for the Indie Book Awards🌟
Paranormal, Young Adult, Time Travel and Fantasy. Go and Vote for this incredible series.
(*•.¸🌟¸.•*´)Ascenders : High school for the recently departed ( Volume 1)
Walker Callaghan has just arrived at the Academy after a tragic car accident. “Is this heaven or is this high school?” she asks.
She finds out her new life is a bit of both as she falls in love with tat-covered, bad boy Daniel Reid who is about to break the only sacred rule of this place. He’s looking for a portal to return back to the living realm.
He needs just one hour to retrieve his younger brother who strangely never arrived at The Academy. Bobby is an Earth Bound Spirit, stuck at a plane crash site that took both of their lives as their rich father piloted his private jet nose-first into a cornfield on Christmas Eve.
Walker loves Daniel and risks it all to go with him.
Have they learned enough to outsmart dangerous forces while transporting a young child with them? Can their love survive the fragmented evil parts of themselves that are now hunting them down as they try to find a way back to the middle?
At the Academy, you learn the lessons of an after-lifetime
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(*•.¸🌟¸.•*´)Ascenders: Skypunch (Volume 2)
In the Midst—a place for those who die young—there are no rules except one.
And Walker Callaghan, dead at seventeen, just broke it. She briefly revisited her earthly life . . . and the punishment is eternal. Longing for her rebel love interest, Daniel Reid, Walker finds an ally in Cass, whose attraction to her is as alive as he is. “Life is short,” he tells her. “I’m banking on eternity. With you.”
In the second book of the Ascenders Saga, a realm-jumping journey takes Walker and Daniel back to life again when they search for something buried in history. They team with students from several other schools in the middle realm including a place for teens born with oddities. It’s home to the Claires . . . beautiful, ruthless, and quite dead seventeen-year-old quads who each have a different clairvoyant gift.
Can Walker survive another adventure of an afterlife-time—or will she find herself on the downside of eternity?
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★Watch The Trailer For Ascenders: Skypunch (#2) Here: http://bit.ly/1rNfB8L
(*•.¸🌟¸.•*´)ASCENDERS: OMORROW (Volume 3) Coming Soon!
We wandered to a back alley where Daniel hooked a large finger in the collar of my new suit jacket, almost ripping the threads as he dragged me in. His mouth crushed mine, half in passion and the other half in relief that we made it through another portal in one piece. I was the one who reluctantly pulled back and it was not just because of the times. It was because of the uncertainty.
Back on the main avenue, I asked the real question: “What year is it?”
Fireman Marty looked at me as if I had lost my marbles.
“What year is it! Now that’s a good one – and I needed a laugh! Been 1958 all day, doll,” he says, slapping his knee. “Will be tomorrow, too, although you can ask the President if you’d like.”
“I’ll ask Obama,” I slipped.
“What’s an Obama?” he flashed back.
“Thank you,” I whispered, knowing that if it was 1958 in NYC, and I was standing on a sidewalk — breathing, talking and passionately kissing Daniel – then one thing was absolutely certain.
I was spending the day living 41 years before I was born.
(*•.¸🌟¸.•*´)AUTHOR BIO:
C.L. Gaber writes YA fiction from her home in Nevada where she lives with her husband Ron, bonus daughter Sabrina and two unruly dogs.
During her day job she is a film columnist. Yes Hollywood!!
Twitter: @CLGaber
Instagram: @clgaber
Google +: CL Gaber
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/b-wsD5 Hollywood Stars Interviews Each Month!