Talk About My Favorite Authors: Kiki Howell tells all about "The Witch's Beast"

Today we have a special guest here guest blogging about her latest release The Witch's Beast. Kiki Howell is a new author to me and when she contacted me about reviewing her latest novel The Witch’s Beast as well as to schedule a interview and guest blog I looked into her novels to see what she writes about. I found that her novel The Witch’s Beast to be very intriguing since it's similar to the story called The Beauty and the Beast but it's told in the perspective of the witch. I had a great time reading it and you should watch out for my review of it soon or you could read the very informative interview between me and Kiki Howell. Now onto the guest blog:

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As I said before, I wrote The Witch’s Beast to settle a long standing grudge I had with the Brothers Grimm. Even as a kid I wondered why the witch, who started it all with her spell so without her there would be no story, only got that one line mention. At the end of the Brothers Grimm version of Beauty and the Beast it says, “An evil witch turned me into a monster and only the love of a maiden willing to accept me as I was, could transform me back into my real self.” No why or when, and they didn’t even give her a chance to explain herself. Disney does give her three lines to explain that the Prince was selfish and unkind—the why. Only here, the old haggard woman became a beautiful enchantress before putting a powerful spell on the Prince and his castle. I went with that, but again, did we ever hear from her? No! So, I felt she had a story to tell. When I saw that Whiskey Creek Press Torrid had a line of Torrid Twisted Tales, I wrote my version of the story completely from the witch’s point of view. The erotic nature of the story was just an added bonus as I wove my tale. I was so excited I guess, that I wrote the story in no time at all. I really couldn’t get it into the computer fast enough. This becomes more of a problem for me as I can’t type! Shh—it’s a secret! THE WITCH’S BEAST, A Torrid Twisted Tale Blurb:

A witch rejected…a few spells for revenge…an arrogant Prince turned into a Beast…a beautiful woman taken captive… And, that is just the beginning of this tale of a Beauty and a Beast told by the Witch who cast the spell that began it all. A dismal castle, possessed candles, and a little mangy fur will be the least of the Beast’s troubles as the Witch goes into a jealous rage over the Beauty he now holds captive. A magic mirror…desperate sex spells…magical seductive dreams…orgasmic punishments in a dungeon… This time, the Beast will be caught between a Beauty who has caught his eye but rejects his proposal of marriage and the Witch who allows him moments in his human form to fulfill his every sexual desire. For whom will there be a happily ever after? Excerpt: The witch stormed from the prince’s castle in a rage that turned the moonlit sky pitch black. The clouds conjured by her anguish pelted the land with rain disguising her own bitter tears. The brambles tore at her dress provoked by the violent winds that her madness ensued. As she ran, her heels kicked up the muck blanketing the wildflowers and hiding the last bits of beauty along the trail. The etched features of the Prince’s arrogant face loomed in her mind spurring her onward. Her thoughts were consumed with baneful spells that her beliefs would normally forbid her to do. When she entered her own cottage, the squall slammed the door shut behind her. The atmospheric disturbance raged on as the conception of revenge incited her actions. She went for the book of spells that was hidden behind all of the others. The book, given to her long ago by an aunt who practiced her craft on the wrong side of morality, had been tucked away for years. Even though she had never considered using it before tonight, she had read it secretly several times. Saraphina flipped through the book, her eyes skimming the pages for spells of revenge. When a spell finally brought a smile to her face, she went to work immediately gathering what she needed and prepping her kitchen. She warmed a chunk of black wax over a boiling cauldron. Oblivious to the heat, she molded and carved the glob into the vague image of a castle. Creativity pushed aside, she worked only until the piece evoked the image of the Prince’s home in her mind. The remaining wax she pounded into the image of a man until she could see the Prince’s form clearly. With wax-covered fingers, she wielded her bolline, a white-handled knife used to do work in the physical realm, cutting the name of the Prince into both of her sculptures. She welcomed in the stormy winds to harden her creations with their chill. Grasping the spiny berry vines that had clung to her skirt, she allowed them to prick her fingers before wrapping the wax figures in the bloody thorns. That done, she reread the spell to reassure herself she had left nothing out. Satisfied with her work, she laid a piece of black velvet over the castle. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of a mallet, and she struck the cloth viciously maiming and breaking her sculptures. Her angry voice sent forth the words, “Your beloved castle, home of pride and power, I now curse to be an wretched home that will instill fear into those who enter it’s rooms and towers. Make every inch of the castle ugly, dull and cold; so that those who dare to enter will be uncomfortable if they are but so bold. Make his possessions whither so that they can bring him no joy, all but the bare necessities destroy.” She though through her words to make sure she had left nothing out. Satisfied, she moved the velvet from the ruins of the castle to the figure of the Prince. She brought down the mallet again and again spewing through her sobs, “The shallow and spoiled Prince Amir, I now curse into a hideous beast; with the fangs of a wolf and the hair of a bear, his ugliness I will increase. His image will suffer everyone to flee, with no one to serve him, alone he will be. The pain of rejection he granted me, I will now gift back to thee.” As she brushed the remains of her wax sculptures into a pail of graveyard dirt, an even more inspired idea flickered within her. Pushing the pail under her worktable and leaving everything else askew, she ran for her bedroom to her altar. She fell to her knees looking as wild as she felt. She was soaked to the bone in her torn dress with smudges of dirt and wax her only remaining adornments. Forgoing the usual preparations of her altar, the Witch laid out further plans for her Prince. “I am devising a superbly wicked spell that will not also harm me, it will be cast in accordance to the law of three. I will curse the Prince with virtuous traits that will be a detriment to the life of such a person as he.” With her first spells against the castle and the Prince, she had gone against her rede to harm no one with her powers. According to the law of three, any negative she sent out into the universe would come back to her threefold. In her mood she had chosen to ignore it or risk it. On the other hand, with this spell she would be granting something positive like honesty. Being truthful and sincere were positive attributes, therefore she would be harming none. Except that, she knew that the spoiled Prince would complain now that he was a beast and his castle was in ruins. Yet with this spell, he would not be able to lie about how he truly felt, and he would not be able to lie about why it happened. He wouldn’t even be able to lie to himself. Plus, the spell insured her that he could never pretend to like her just to be turned back into a man. Sparking the candles before her to light by merely running her hand over them, she now softly spoke, “With this flame that makes light live, the gift of honesty I will give. In accordance with the law of three, this is what I want, so mote it be.” She fell back upon her bearskin rug and passed out into an exhausted fit of sleep. Her restless dreams brought to her flashes of the day. She had spent hours making herself beautiful, donning a newly sewn dress that did much to accentuate the best of her curves. She had washed her long red hair and twisted each of its natural curls around her finger while they were still wet to perfect them. After mixing just the right combination of herbs to accentuate her own femininity, she had doused herself with the perfume. Standing nervously at the door of the castle, she waited upon the approval she needed to speak with Prince Amir. At first, he had refused to even see her having a servant claim him too busy. Yet, she persuaded, as only a young woman can, the aging servant to convince the Prince to see her in his study. She had told him quite truthfully that the purpose of her visit was of the utmost importance to Prince Amir’s future. In her mind, it was not a lie or even an exaggeration of the truth. Prince Amir was none to happy to see her standing before his desk. “Why have you come? I am busy. Therefore, can we please make this short? What news do you have for me concerning my future?” The words were spoken fast and laced with arrogance. He was clearly annoyed with the woman before him, and disinterested in anything she may have to say. She had been challenged by his aloofness before and had not let it intimidate her. “I have come, as always to persuade my old friend to grant me some of his time.” She purred out the words as her hips swayed girlishly back and forth to catch her hands. “I have no time. If you have something of importance to say about my future, please do so quickly.” He had not even glanced up at her again continuing to look over something on his desk as he spoke in the monotone of distraction. “Prince, if I may have permission to be completely honest.” “I don’t suppose I can stop you.” She walked around his desk to stand beside his chair. A bold move that she had dared to force him to look at her. “What are you doing?” His voice had risen in volume as he glared up at her seemingly oblivious to the body she tried to display before him. “We were friends as children, you must remember, but then you took power and since have had no time for me. You seem consumed with your work, which is very important indeed.” She spoke fast not allowing him to interrupt her. “Yet, I think a man needs more than work. I am offering you love. I can take care of your other needs.” After brushing aside the curls that had covered the swell of her breasts, she caressed his hair. He pushed her hand from him. “Get out before I call in the guards. My future does not involve you.” “But, Prince…” He cut her off with his angry words, “Get out Witch! I may have been too stupid to know better as a child, but now I am a grown man and have no time or desire for the likes of you. Know your place from now on. I have allowed you to live on these grounds because your mother was a dear servant to mine, but that is where you rank, servant. Remember, you are a servant I have no need for. My mother felt the need for a witch, therefore you and your mother were granted many privileges in this castle once. I, on the other hand, do not see the need for your so-called magic. Please hear me clearly because I never will. So, if you wish to remain on these grounds, you will leave me alone.” He had never said such things to her before. He hadn’t had time for her in the year since he had come to power with his father ill, but he had been at least briefly polite to his childhood friend when she had forced their paths to cross. She had just thought he needed to be reminded of the friendship they once shared and made to see the woman she had become. Thereupon, she thought that given time he could maybe come to love her too. “Don’t just stand there with that dumb look on your face. Leave me alone!” He bellowed once more. “Guards!” She turned then and ran past the guards that had quickly come at his call.