An Interview with Ralph E. Horner

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Ralph's first novel, Tandem Tryst, was published by Wings ePress in March of 2009. His second novel Witch's Moon was published in December 2012, and his third, Midnight Tryst, the sequel of Tandem Tryst was published in December of 2013. He now has a fourth book Lost Legacy. Ralph is also a professional entertainer who performs balloon are and magic.

Why did you start fiction writing and what genre(s) do you like to write?

I've always had stories in my head. When I was in junior high I started writing comic strip stories. I write paranormal stories; gothic horror, time-travel and fantasy.

Why this/these genre(s)? What attracts you to them?
I've always enjoyed these kind of stories and movies because it's an escape from reality. And the only way we can time-travel is through a story and our minds.

Generally speaking, what is the driving force behind your characters? Have any of your characters changed in dramatic way from what you imagined at the start during the writing process?
Usually the driving force for my main characters is solving a problem. My main character never changes and rarely does any of the supporting characters.

What do you find the most difficult in finishing a story and approximately how long does it take for you to write a story?
I don't have much difficulty finishing a story. The length of time to write my stories varies greatly, depending on how much time I have to write and how much research is needed for stories involving time-travel, where I spend more time with research then the writing. My first published novel Tandem Tryst took me five years to complete.

Are there other types of writing you do such as non-fiction, or short
fiction?
I've never written non-fiction, but I do have several short stories published in magazines, and they are also paranormal.

Has your writing affected you in any way and what would you recommend to
someone wanting to start writing fiction?
The down side of writing is that you can get obsessed with your story. I would recommend that writers not to put their writing over their family. I had to keep myself in check sometimes. I've known many writers in support groups that thought it was great that they wrote twenty pages every day, even on major holidays when they had company over. Not good! I live alone now and being semi-retired I have a little more time to write.

Midnight Mist

By Ralph E. Horner
Paranormal Romantic Suspense, 387 pages
Cover art by Richard Stroud

Blurb:

An enchanted ring sends Melody ahead one hundred years in time to reunite her with her true love. Jeff is overwhelmed to see her, but discovers that Alice, Melody's mentally disturbed sister, has time-traveled with her. Jeff must locate Alice to regain possession of the ring, and at the same time protect Melody from her sister’s deadly attacks.

Excerpt:

From behind, Jeff held Alice’s face down, grasping her left hand, searching for the ring. It wasn’t on any of the fingers of that hand. She kicked back, slamming him on the shin. As she thrashed, Jeff put his knee on her lower back, trying to keep control over her. Pain coursed through him as Alice sank her teeth into his forearm. Clenching his teeth in misery, he held up her right hand and saw the gold ring on her index finger. She continued to bite hard on his arm, making it feel like her canines were going all the way through to the bone, but he still managed to grab the ring. Sparks exploded off his hand. Like touching a hot frying pan, he instinctively let go.

Several people watched, making no attempt to stop the fight, thinking they were both men.

Blood ran down Jeff’s sleeve to the pavement as Alice finally let his arm go. She grasped her right index finger with her left hand. Jeff knew she was attempting to make an escape by going back in time. He grabbed her left hand, trying to keep her from removing the ring. Sparks exploded, as Jeff made contact with the ring again, but he held on this time, even though it felt as if he were holding a lit match. He watched in horror as Alice slowly slid the ring toward the tip of her finger. As hard as he tried, he could not stop her from slipping it off. He suddenly found himself struggling with her in the grass next to a narrow road. They had gone back to eighteen ninety-three together.

Alice held the ring tightly in her left palm. Jeff tried in vain to force her hand open. He pulled her short-haired wig off and her long black hair fell down onto her shoulders. As Alice tried to turn toward him, he slammed her wrist on the ground several times trying to break her grip. Jeff was stunned by an elbow crashing into his jaw, disorientating him momentarily. Alice twisted toward him and sprayed something from a tube into his eyes. Jeff covered his face and yelled, feeling like his eyes would burn out of their sockets. More of the mist hit the back of his hand. It had to be Mace.

“Hey, leave him alone,” came the sound of a man’s voice.

Now blind and helpless, pain shot through Jeff’s side as Alice kicked him hard in the ribs. Then came another rib-cracking blow to the same area. Jeff moaned and covered his head in fear she’d strike there next.

“I guess we’ll have to stop you,” still another man’s voice. Jeff realized there were two men coming toward them. He could hardly open his eyes and his vision was so bad it was like looking through wax paper. Jeff could see that Alice was running away. Then two men knelt next to him.

“Are you hurt badly, Mister?” one of the men asked. “Your arm’s bleeding.”

“What can we do for you, son?” The other man lowered his head, gazing into Jeff’s face.

“Water!” Jeff thrashed his head and rubbed his eyes. “Hurry! I need water for my eyes.”

“I’ll be right back.” The man took off on a run.

“Try to relax there, Mister.” The man rubbed his shoulder.

Jeff lay on his stomach moaning and shaking his head. His eyes were in too much pain to be concerned about the fact that he was trapped in another time. He was having trouble breathing.

“Here comes Larry now. He’s running with a whole bucket of water. I hope he doesn’t spill it all before he gets here, though.”

Larry set the pail down in the grass next to them. Jeff got up on his knees and bent over it, scooping out water with his hands and splashing his eyes as fast as he could. The water soon became a discolored red from the blood of his wound. He finally dunked his entire face into the water, rubbed his eyes and forced them open. When he took his head out of the bucket, his vision was slightly better, but his eyes burned as if someone had scrubbed them with steel wool. At the World’s Fair, he had used Mace on Alice to get her knife, and now she had used the same weapon on him.

“Are you feeling any better?” Larry asked.

Through blurred vision, Jeff saw a thin, blond man wearing a straw hat and a handlebar mustache.

Witch's Moon

By Ralph E. Horner

Paranormal Gothic Time-Travel, 282 pages

Cover art by Pat Evans

Joe Hillery meets Diehla Thorne, the ghost of a witch who’s curse has haunted his family for three-hundred years. On a life and death wager, she sends Joe back to her time of 1680 New Hampshire. There he has only two days to find a person brave enough to touch the ring on the living witch’s finger.

Excerpt:

The young woman’s black, flowing hair contrasted with her ivory complexion. Joe thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She reminded him of a Siamese cat, as her most alluring feature was her black, piercing, almond shaped eyes. Her nose gradually sloped down from her narrow face then turned up at the tip. This was not Diehla.

Her large bewitching eyes held him as she spoke. “Who are ye, and what d’ye want here?”

Joe had his story set. He didn’t want to admit he was traveling with a Puritan, but the way Abigail was dressed he had no choice. “I'm Joseph Hill and this is Abigail Jennings, the blacksmith's daughter. We're here to see Diehla.”

The tall woman glared at them as if they were both crazy. “Why d’ye seek Diehla?”

What could he say that would be believable? The trees that surrounded them were silent—no breeze stirred their leaves, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath waiting for his answer.

“I met her last year at a fair. She told me to visit her when I was in her area.”

“I ask thee again, why d’ye seek her?” The woman seemed angry.

Joe cast a sideways glance at his companion. “Abigail and I want to learn magic from her.”

Abigail forced a smile. “I have never met her, but I would be honored to join her coven.”

The dark woman glanced at Abigail and then Joe. “Thou say thou have met Diehla?”

“Yes.” Joe nodded and gulped, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The raven-haired woman stepped aside to let them pass into the house. She followed them in, then closed the heavy wooden door behind them. “Come this way.”

Abigail grasped Joe's arm as they followed the robed woman down the dark, gloomy hallway. She turned right into a candle-lit room with a wooden table near the wall to the left. Four large chairs stood in a half circle in front of the fire place. In between, a black cat lay on a throw rug.

The young woman paused with her hand on the back of one the chairs. She turned to face them. “What d'ye want with Diehla?”

Joe trembled. “We told you, we both want to join this coven. Is Diehla home?” Joe raised his palms in frustration. “Is she here?”

“Thou art witch hunters?”

Joe knew Abigail’s Puritan garb wasn’t helping his story. “We are not witch hunters!”

The young woman slowly reached into a robe pocket and pulled out a long knife. “If thou art witch hunters, ye shall succumb.”

Joe felt cold as Abigail gasped. They both took a step back. “What do you mean?” Joe’s heart hammered.

“Art thou daft?” She glared at him. “Thou shan't leave this house alive.”

Joe swallowed hard. “I was afraid that's what you meant.”