I have some good news…

And by good news, I mean FUCKING AWESOME NEWS.

(By the way, please click on the bot­tom of this blog post if you’re read­ing this on GoodReads…for some rea­son the gifs don’t show up on there and you really need the sweet sweet gifs for this one)

Last week, just out of the blue, I was emailed by Scott Wax­man of the Wax­man Leavel Lit­er­ary Agency. He con­grat­u­lated me on my suc­cess (whut?) and said he’d like to do busi­ness with me.

Cue this emotion:

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Then, think­ing it was too good to be true, I did some research on him to make sure he’s legit. Turns out, his agency has pub­lished such awe­some titles as:

–Hope They Serve Beer in Hell

–The Hex Hall Series

–Girls of Fire and Thorns

- Deadly Cool

- Defi­ance

- Hourglass/Timpeice

- Angel Eyes

- Shit My Dad Says

And he rep­re­sents Mar­tin Sheen.…MR. PRESIDENT!!

So then my emo­tion was:

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Any­hoo, I’m pleased to announce to you that I, Karina Halle, am now rep­re­sented by Scott Wax­man of the Wax­man Leavel Lit­er­ary Agency. It’s funny because when I wrote the Exper­i­ment in Ter­ror Series, I never queried any agents or publishers…I just wanted to self-pub (some­thing to do with impa­tience lol). So the fact that I now have one? WOW.…

Actu­ally, WOW isn’t good enough. This is how I’m feeling:

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And even­tu­ally.…

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So much goodness

Ahhhh! Big news com­ing, just on the hori­zon. I can see it but can’t grasp it yet. But when the time is right, hope­fully I can share.

Aside from that really vague tidbit…

- Old Blood made the Smash­words Best Sell­ers List for the FIFTH week in a row and even moved up one spot. It’s NUMBER THREE in all of fic­tion (woo hoo!) http://www.mediabistro.com/galleycat/self-published-bestsellers-list-for-july-23-2012_b54832

- The cov­ers for The Devil’s Metal and Into the Hol­low should be released in the next few weeks

–I’m doing a Dex-Files Blog Tour next week through Sin­fully Deli­cious Reviews — click the link to see the sched­ule http://sinfullydeliciousbooks.blogspot.ca/p/dex-files-blog-tour.html

- And Maryse posted “Stripsearch” The Dead Sky Morn­ing strip club scene http://www.maryse.net/uncategorized/stripsearch-a-special-dex-file-for-eit-fans-karina-halle-rocks.html

I think that’s it for now!

My Interview with Maryse

In case you missed it, here’s my inter­view with the lovely and crazy pop­u­lar romance blog­ger, Maryse :) I’m so thrilled to be men­tioned on her blog so much — every­thing she touches turns to gold!

In the inter­view, I talk about upcom­ing nov­els, my inspi­ra­tion for the series, and where it’s all going. You can also win a $15 gift card too by show­ing some love in the com­ments. And boy, do I feel the love. My read­ers are the best :D



Also I’m pleased to announce that Old Blood has made the Best-Sellers List on Gal­ley Cat for the fourth week in a row (#4 in Smash­words). Woo hoo! http://www.mediabistro.com/galleycat/self-published-bestsellers-for-week-of-july-16-2012_b54520#.UAgNsg_Yztc.facebook

One day this dirty stool pigeon will fly…

Exper­i­ment in Ter­ror. Have you seen the 60’s film with the won­der­ful Glenn Ford? Have you heard Henry Mancini’s snazzy sound­track which was later cov­ered by one of my favorite bands of all time, Fantomas?

Well, at least here you get a snip­pet of it. This is the cred­its of the film with Fan­tomas play­ing the track on top. Fan­tomas is made up of a bunch of my most favorite people…Mike Pat­ton, Dave Lom­bardo, Buzz Osborne and Trevor Dunn. Each of those musi­cians are geniuses in their own right. And Dave, who has read Dark­house and Red Fox by the way (he says it was fucked up — I’ll take that as a com­pli­ment from Mr. Slayer), thought it was pretty cool that the series was named after a Fan­tomas song…that cov­ered a Blake Edwards song. Lol.

I do have a habit of nam­ing books after songs. I named Red Fox after a Tom­a­hawk song (about skin­walk­ers), and that in itself is funny because when I gave Dave the book he imme­di­ately started singing Tom­a­hawk. Exactly what I was going for.

Later on too, I ended up inter­view­ing John Stanier, who drums for Tom­a­hawk (and the fero­cious Bat­tles, and ex-Helmet) who also thought it was pretty cool that I named a book after one of his songs.

I got him to sign my copy of Red Fox and he got me to sign his :)

Any­way, music is pretty impor­tant to me obvi­ously (I’m a jour­nal­ist and fan girl all rolled into one)…and it’s some­thing that will be dis­cussed more in an upcom­ing interview/post with blog­ger Emmy Reads. Oh and The Devil’s Metal. That books is like…totally up my alley. And yours too, I hope.

So, where was I?

Oh yes, the cover for The Dex-Files! VOILA!!

And I’m proud to say it was all done by moi :) (click for larger image)

You can also add the book (com­ing out August 13th) to your Good Reads TBR pile HERE.

Oh and what else…hmmm. Oh…how about the pro­logue for THE DEX-FILES????!


I was six years old when I got my first taste of hell.

I woke up to a hor­ri­ble howl­ing noise, like a dog caught in the throes of deep emo­tional pain, agony that went beyond the phys­i­cal. It was chill­ing. Ter­ri­fy­ing. Like, make your balls shrivel up into pricks of ice sort of ter­ror. It quickly plucked away what­ever igno­rance my sleep had thrust on me and slapped me in my young face. This wasn’t a dream. This was as real as all hell. There was a mon­ster in my house, the kind that preyed on lit­tle boys, but it wasn’t under my bed or in my closet. It was next door. Or, as it seemed to be, the floor below, scratch­ing and howl­ing its way from the kitchen.

It was my mother. And from the sounds of glass break­ing and fur­ni­ture scuf­fling, my dad had found her. The howl­ing inter­mixed with his boom­ing voice, his threats, his pathetic cries that betrayed the col­lected man he was always try­ing to be. It sounded ugly. It always sounded ugly but tonight I was espe­cially scared. When a vicious cry was fol­lowed by the sound of some­one being shoved into a wall, I’m not ashamed to say I promptly wet myself. Piss­ing your pants seemed the only thing to do when the mon­ster was loose and I made a silent, naïve prayer to the man upstairs, pray­ing that it was my mother who was thrown against the wall. I’m cal­lous, maybe. I’ve been called worse. But if it were my father, and he was out cold, she’d come look­ing for me next.

I thought about pulling the cov­ers over my head and hid­ing from it all like a cow­ard, but that never worked. I would pre­tend all I could that my blan­ket was my invis­i­ble cloak and it would shel­ter me from every­thing bad in the world but I learned at a very young age that there was no such thing as shel­ter. Maybe I would have been safer if I didn’t care. Maybe indif­fer­ence could have been my pro­tec­tor. But I still loved — and feared — my par­ents. That love is what scared me. It gave them the upper hand. They sure as fuck didn’t love me.

I heard a shuf­fling from out­side my door, slow and light. It was only Michael, though it rat­tled my wee body to think things were bad enough that he got out of bed. Michael was just three years older but he might have well been another decade. He was the golden boy, the child of light. I was the runt, the child of dark. I feared. Michael didn’t.

I quickly jumped out of bed and scur­ried across to the door, pur­posely miss­ing the part of the floor that I knew squeaked. I turned the knob silently and saw Michael’s shadow just down the hall, head­ing toward the stairs. Half of him was lit up by a dying night light.

He stopped as soon as he heard me and though I could barely see it, I could feel the look. It said go back to bed, you’ll get us in trou­ble. Only I could get us in trou­ble just by being awake. I still don’t know why my mother had it in for me. Some­times I think she saw a lot of her­self in me, even at such an age. That’s a fuck­ing ter­ri­fy­ing thought. I’d be lying if that, and other things, didn’t keep me up at night.

That look though from Michael, that was the most I’d ever seen him scared. It felt good, self­ishly good, to know he wasn’t inhu­man, that he feared things too. Maybe not the way I did, but hell if I hadn’t been won­der­ing if my brother was born with­out a soul. Now I knew he was just older and bet­ter at hid­ing it than me.

I opened my mouth to say some­thing but he placed his fin­ger to his lips. We lis­tened. The wail­ing had stopped. There was no more noise.

The fresh piss felt cold against my legs and I was sud­denly, acutely embar­rassed of what I had done. It’s damn funny how Michael had that effect on me.

Even fun­nier was how I remem­ber reach­ing out for his hand, look­ing for some sort of pathetic com­fort in my blood rel­a­tive, my Mikey. He jumped as if my very touch star­tled him or scathed his skin. Yet he let me hold his hand, even though it was tiny and clammy and I grasped him hard, until bone rubbed against bone. I never felt as grate­ful to my brother as I did at that moment, for not let­ting go. Yeah the ass­wipe would let go later. Fuck, he’d order up my own exe­cu­tion if he could (don’t think he wouldn’t try). But at that moment, I wasn’t alone.

We made our way down the stairs, hold­ing hands. You’d think it would be less scary with­out the yelling and the damn woman howls, but the silence was hazed with sus­pense and unheard threats, and for­get the smell of urine ema­nat­ing from me, I was this close to shit­ting myself.

When we reached the floor we heard a very slight tin­kling of glass. We both froze and Michael’s grip on mine inten­si­fied. Just for a sec­ond. But it was enough.

The sound was fol­lowed by a groan. Then a flop­ping sound of body and skin against shiny tiled floors. This wasn’t good. This was very, very bad.

I wanted to turn and run. I think I may have tried. But Michael held me there and we both watched as a dark fig­ure came crawl­ing out of the door to the kitchen. She moved on the floor like a drunk snake. That’s what she was, after all. A fuck­ing drunk snake out to eat us alive.

She didn’t get far. Her arms were out­stretched and reach­ing for us but she got two feet before she gave up and passed out. She smelt like wine and evil. Like sweat and sad­ness. Of all the feel­ings that hit me at that moment, I felt…bad. Look­ing back, I pitied her.

Michael and I stood there, star­ing dumbly at our uncon­scious mother. Michael’s eyes were hard in the dark­ness, tiny pin­pricks in the black. I won­der, did he feel hate toward her? Did he still love her? Did he feel loved? Or was he con­fused as I was, for­ever mix­ing up love and hate and fear and females. I’ll never know. I don’t think I even care.

The spell of shock wore off when we heard another sound from the kitchen. My father was stir­ring. My first instinct was to run and hide. I feared him in a dif­fer­ent way. That I’d get a spank­ing for wet­ting my pjs. That I’d be told I was noth­ing but a fuck up (not so much in those words, I was six after all, but I got the gist. I’m no dummy). But he didn’t notice in the dark­ness. He appeared in the door­way, stand­ing over my mother, with an expres­sion of hope­less­ness and utter dis­dain on his face. This is what I get, it said.

Instead he said, “You boys are get­ting a nanny. We can’t live like this.”

Same dif­fer­ence, I suppose.

My name is Dex Foray and I’m a hyp­ocrite. Proud of it, too. I call my mother a mon­ster but I’m the one who took her last name. Maybe because unlike my dad, she never left me. There’s some­thing to be said for stick­ing around…even if it kills you.

I’m a hyp­ocrite because I can’t stand weak­ness in oth­ers, even though I’m born of weak­ness myself. I dish it out and then laugh when they try and dish it back. Like I’m above it. And some­times I think I am.

I’m a hyp­ocrite because I hunt ghosts and I’ve pre­tended all this time that the ghosts haven’t been hunt­ing me.

And I’m a hyp­ocrite because I judge peo­ple. I judge the fuck out of every­one I meet, from their music tastes, to their jobs to their lifestyle choices. I judge them but fuck them if they dare judge me. They think they under­stand this mon­ster in me, the mon­ster in all of us. But they don’t.

They don’t know where I’ve come from.

They don’t know my side of the story.

But now you do.


And now I’ll leave you with some Dave Lombardo…Enjoy!

Back to life, back to reality

So, I’m back. My vaca­tion was amaz­ing. Words can’t describe it. How­ever, I will give you a pic­ture a day of our trip in my next post! Before I get into that though, I wanted to clar­ify some infor­ma­tion about upcom­ing dead­lines and releases — believe me, I had a load of emails and mes­sages I’ve sifted through upon my return and I thought it eas­ier to answer some ques­tions here:

When is the Dex-Files com­ing out?

This POV com­pi­la­tion book (which con­tains major spoil­ers, so I rec­om­mend read­ing all books in the series before you read it) will come out on Mon­day, August 13th in eformat.

Are you releas­ing a Dex-Files scene this month?

Yes. There will be one, pos­si­bly two (via some­one else’s blog).

When does Into the Hol­low come out?

Into the Hol­low, Book #6 comes out on Tues­day, Octo­ber 23rd.

BUT WE NEED THE BOOKS NOW! Will you have another non-EIT book until then? Tell us about it!

I should have some­thing for you in Sep­tem­ber called The Devil’s Metal. Believe me, I’ve got a packed sched­ule and when I’m not writ­ing EIT stuff I am writ­ing other stuff. This other stuff is pretty freak­ing cool though and I know EIT fans will love it — I’ll keep you posted on it when things are more con­crete but this book should have a Sep­tem­ber release date. Fun fact: Jacob appears in this book.

Yeah so what hap­pened to Lost in Wan­der­lust, your roman­tic com­edy adult novel?

It’s com­ing this year still, most likely Novem­ber or Decem­ber but it got pushed back due to EIT stuff and my cre­ative path. Some­times you feel things, some­times you don’t.

Red Fox, I need it for my Nook/Kobo, where can I buy it?

You can buy it in any for­mat from Smash­words: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/66366

You should be able to get it off of Nook/Kobo by August.

Old Blood has been get­ting lots of great reviews — but is it essen­tial to the series? Do I need to read it?

YES. It is essen­tial. And you need to read it. It gives back­ground not only to Pippa but to Perry and Dex as well, and in a major way. Some stuff that hap­pens in future EIT books may not make much sense unless you’ve read Old Blood. It also explains a lot of why Perry and Dex are the way they are and fore­shad­ows some things.

Also, while I was gone I learned that Old Blood placed me on the GalleyCat’s Best Sell­ers List for Self-Published nov­els two weeks in a row! Wooo hoo team EIThttp://www.mediabistro.com/galleycat/self-published-best-seller-list-for-week-of-july-2-2012_b53903#more-53903

Will there be an Old Blood paperback?

As it is a long novella, there will be a paper­back and it will prob­a­bly be out end of this month. On that note, On Demon Wings in paper­back is now avail­able again after the Cre­ate­space fiasco.

How many books in the series?

Eight in total. I will be doing an Ada POV novella next year.

And when are Books #7 and #8 being released and what are they called?

Book #7 (work­ing title) Come Alive and Book #8 Ashes to Ashes will be out in the Spring and Fall of 2013 respec­tively. I will be putting out the Ada novella dur­ing the Sum­mer of 2013 to break up the wait — there’s also a pos­si­bil­ity of another novella in between Books #6 and #7.…I’ll keep you posted if that comes to anything.

Is Book #8 the end? Like, really the end?

Yes and no. The end of the Exper­i­ment in Ter­ror Series. Is it the end of Perry & Dex? Prob­a­bly not, though the idea I have in mind for my favorite duo won’t be real­ized for quite a num­ber of years. But it won’t be the last you’ll ever see of them ;)


Last but not least, thank you guys for con­tact­ing me! I love get­ting mail and mes­sages, I really do :) I may not always respond right away but I do try to answer as much as I can!