Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Our Guest Author Today is C.R. King

Tombstone 


Tombstone is a very popular place for those of us who enjoy history, especially facts about Wyatt Earp and his brothers Virgil and Morgan; Add Doc Holiday for he was very close to the Earps.

We dwell on the most famous gunfight in the old West, the Gun Fight at the OK Corral. The above names fought part of the Cowboy faction and won. The word ‘Cowboy’ was used as an insult. History is covered up by those who want to hide things for many reasons, and it goes down as factual; that is, whatever was used to hide.  As a Historian, I want and work hard to uncover the truth as all 6 of my books do just that. The gunfight was not at the OK Corral but behind it.  From the Epitaph Newspaper published on April 27, 1881: 

“A reporter obtained some startling facts about the opium dens of Tombstone from a police officer about opium dens of Tombstone and their habitues. One den was on Allen above Sixth Street. The balance was [of dens] were on Third near Allen. All told, there were five or six of them, all kept by Chinamen and well patronized by American men and women. The women patrons are courtesans [ sic courtesans], who no doubt indulge in this dissipation to benumb their faculties and obliterate the memories of innocent, happy days that are past beyond recall. Statistics show an alarming increase in the opium habit throughout the country. The city authorities should look into this matter immediately.”

The Tucson Star of August 4, 1881, said at the end of an article: “There is no dodging the question. These opium dens are being carried on in open defiance to the law.” The article asked for the mayor to see that the city marshal take steps to have them wiped out.”

Butte, Montana had five dens when Morgan Earp was wearing the policeman’s badge. They had 3 dens. When Morgan resigned to join his brother in Tombstone but just before he handed in his badge, he discovered two hidden dens. Wherever there was a Chinese population, there were opium dens, over 50% were white men and female prostitutes.

Of my books, all 6 of them are well researched, and I have at least one item in each book that no one knew of until I published. I have three volumes of A Fraternity of Gunslingers: True Stories of Wild West Gunmen. Volume 3 has 22 stories. I will be ordering 20 paperbacks on this volume. I have more stories in my other books.  


C. R. 'Randy' Has worked in the Broadcast industry most of his adult life. A father of two beautiful daughters, now grown and a avid student of American History. He spent most of his life working, raising a family, involved in community affairs putting his one passion aside until a few years back. King has had in several articles published in historical journals and magazines but has had a desire to share his knowledge with the general public in a format that is a pleasing and easy to read without all of the end notes that his articles normally have but to include as much factual data without the mundane.



Monday, November 18, 2024

The Prodigal Daughter

A snippet from the story 

For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.

Luke 15:24 KJV

February 12, 2081, Denver, Colorado, USA

Cassie lies on her bed waiting for her ‘showcase’ to start. She’s wearing her ‘display’ outfit, black spiked heels, thigh-high black lace stockings, black lace garter belt, black lace quarter cup bra, and black choker with a white cameo. While she waits for the get ready signal she has on her beat-up blue flannel shirt. It’s unbuttoned and hangs loosely about her petite body. Cassie’s long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders, spilling onto the bed.

She looks at the wall the camera is built into, the lens reflects the light from the room’s only lamp. Above it hangs her general discharge from the U.S. Army, an army that no longer exists. She reads the name emblazoned on the certificate, 3rd Lieutenant Cassandra Lynn Anderson. Though it is nearly eight years ago that she was ‘bounced’ from the J.A.C.K.S. program to her it feels like a thousand.

She thinks back on those three days. The intimate horror of being mentally connected to a W.I.D.G.E.T.S. as it died haunts her every night. Colonel Gray was right, she didn’t belong there. At least his success during that campaign carried enough weight that they accepted the Colonel’s recommendation that she be assigned to a comfort unit instead of a labor battalion. Still, she wonders, Am I better off being used by these perverted men every night than being worked to death as a common laborer?

Cassie looks at the framed certificate next to her discharge, her Courtesan Diploma. She spent six months in courtesan training, at the top of the class in all subjects, but she excelled at all the activities requiring empathy. Erotic massage, intimate conversation, serving the client's needs, listening to their inner desires. Most importantly, she excelled at knowing when to be physical with a client, and when to just be there with him, or her.

When she completed her training, she was sent to this house, Isabella de Luna, of Denver.

For years the girls there entertained men in a somewhat dignified manner. They would meet the men, get to know them, and then take care of their desires. Though she still felt dirty when the night’s work ended at least there was a sense of propriety.

When the war with China ended that all changed.

Everyone was certain it would be a short war, but they always are. The sides were clearly divided, the USA, the UK, and UES against the Russian Consortium and China. After seven months they started talking about calling up all prior service, including candidates that were bounced out of programs like J.A.C.K.S. In month eight China pulled the rug out from under everyone. It seems that China’s Artificial Intelligence knocked out the AIs of the USA, the UK, the UES and the Russian Consortium. China stabbed the Russians in the back, seizing all of Siberia east of Lake Baikal. All those countries were defeated, leaving China the big winner.

The Chinese overran South Korea, Japan, The Philippines, Indonesia, New Guinea and Australia. They annexed Hawaii and California. And their secret ally, Canada, annexed Alaska, Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont.

They established an occupation government in each of the defeated countries. All former US military were taken into custody and interred in ‘reeducation’ camps.

Cassie found herself in one of those camps.

For the first two weeks, all the detainees were subjected to constant interrogation, sleep deprivation, and political indoctrination. During the second week, several prisoners cracked. Though the inmates were never allowed to be together in groups, they did pass each other when they were moved from room to room. It was then that Cassie encountered some of the broken.

Their eyes were filled with terror, some had tics, others were pale like all their blood had been drained from them. A few shook uncontrollably.

To her surprise, Cassie never felt that she was at the end of her rope. It was not that she wasn’t afraid, it was not that she wasn’t exhausted, it was not that she wasn’t in pain. She just knew she would be alright.

At the beginning of the third week, she caught the camp commander’s eye.

On Wednesday she got a decent dinner and they let her sleep that night. On Thursday she was allowed to shower, was fed a decent dinner, and allowed to sleep. On Friday She did not attend any ‘reeducation’ programs, instead, they left her in her cell. At noon she was served a light lunch. When she was finished the guards ordered her to shower. They watched her shower, to be sure she didn’t escape. After her shower, the guards gave her one of her courtesan dresses and told her to put it on. The guards watched her dress too.

Once she was in her dress the guards brought in the makeup manager from the house Isabella de Luna. He did her hair, applied some blush and eyeshadow, then some lipstick. When he had finished the guards took her to the commandant’s office.

At first, the camp commander was courteous to her. He offered her wine, which she accepted, then offered her hors-d’oeuvres, which she declined. She fell back on her courtesan training and experience to manage the encounter, and it seemed like it was working, but that didn’t last.

Suddenly he dragged Cassie off of the couch by her hair. The commandant ripped her dress, slapping her in the process. He tossed her back onto the couch, yanking her torn gown off leaving her naked. When he grabbed Cassie, she phased out. To her, it seemed like she was leaving her body to someplace outside of reality.

When she returned to reality Cassie was back in her cell, she was naked, lying under her blanket. Cassie tried to recall what happened the night before. She had the impression in her mind that she had had sex, that she had been raped, but her body didn’t feel like it. From all that she had read, her courtesan training, and from talking to the other girls that had played out their client's rape fantasies she should have been hurting and feeling humiliated. But she felt nothing, her whole body was contradicting what her mind was telling her.

Cassie dressed in her camp overalls and waited to be taken to indoctrination. The guards came, but they didn’t take her to ‘class’, instead they brought her breakfast. Later when they brought her lunch she overheard them saying the camp commander had hung himself the night before. They also discussed that they’ve been ordered not to harm her in any way. All of this made Cassie very confused.

In the middle of week four Cassie was processed out of the camp, even though they hadn’t broken her. Her records were updated indicating that she was loyal to the Chinese Communist Party, and she was transferred back to house Isabella de Luna, of Denver.

When she returned to the house Cassie was shocked to find it was under new ‘management’. It no longer followed the courtesan rules. There was no getting to know the client, no elegance, no propriety. Instead, the staff, whether male, female, or teen, were required to put on a lewd display for the potential clients. At the end of the performance, the potential clients would bid to possess that staff member for one hour. When that hour was up the staff member was required to shower and get prepared to ‘perform’ again.

Cassie was forced to learn a routine. She spent a week getting it down right. Tonight is her first time on the auction block.

While Cassie was adapting to the new ‘management’ she started to notice things she hadn’t before. There were several small things but the most important was she wasn’t aging.

Continue reading the story in the book:

https://books2read.com/u/m27NQd

What if you think the known world isn’t strange enough? Embark on a journey that pushes the boundaries, challenges your perception, and questions reason, logic, and established beliefs.



Sunday, November 17, 2024

Book Sunday November 17

The Mystery at Love's Manor

Cozy Mystery

Emma Love never thought she'd return to her hometown after years away from her estranged family. But when her sister-in-law is kidnapped, Emma puts her life on hold to help an old flame, Deputy Sam Mattingley, solve the case and bring Gwen home. With a degree in Criminal Justice and part-time experience working at a detective agency, Emma's skills are tested.

As the layers of secrecy are peeled back, Emma realizes the mystery shrouding Love's Manor and her brother's marriage is more intricate than anyone could have fathomed. Can she navigate the convoluted trail of clues and locate Gwen before it's too late? And what of her long-suppressed feelings for Sam Mattingley…are they merely a product of nostalgia…or something more?

Pre-order the book on AMAZON

Chapter One

A feeling of dread squeezed my soul in its dark grip. I bolted upright in bed and searched the darkness for the source of my discomfort. Was it a sound, real or imagined? A consequence of my first week’s stay in a new home? I was chilled to the bone, and goosebumps rose on my flesh. Too many of my premonitions proved well founded to ignore…something was wrong. My thoughts went to my estranged family. Nana, in the sunset of life, was in a battle with the demon possessing her—Dementia. Her curse weighed heavily on my brother, Daniel, his wife, and their relationship. If something was as wrong as my churning gut indicated, was it Nana?

No, if Nana, Gwen would have called to let me know. Wiping the crud from the corners of my eyes, I crawled out of bed. Last night’s mystery novel fell from its hiding place between my flannel sheets. The day’s traumas and the two-hour drive to gather the last of my possessions from my old digs had overwhelmed my curiosity about the fictional “who-done-it.” My brother used to mock my choice of literature. I considered it professional reading.

I glanced out of my bedroom window. Raindrops slithered down the glass, and the filtered dawn cast its shadowed light. I wished the window faced east for the sunrise, like my childhood bedroom in the old house.

Nana is staying there now. It was the closest one to Daniel and Gwen’s bedroom. I hoped Nana would find more peace there than I had.

Sliding my feet into cheap imitation fur-lined slippers, I set the book on my nightstand and made my way to the kitchen, and the coffee pot. The old-fashioned percolator began its flirtatious dance, and the scent of the fresh ground coffee teased my nostrils.

I glanced around the room, noticing all the work that needed to be done. The condition of the place made it affordable for me. The paint was chipping from the walls, and the kitchen cabinets were stained with decades of accumulated grease. The sink’s constant drip kept time with the ticking of the kitchen clock, a throwback black cat with rolling eyes and a swishing tail. But it was home, and it was mine. Well, mine and Old Joseph’s—the name I gave to the source of falling objects and bumps in the night. What I only somewhat jokingly referred to as my resident ghost. I wasn’t sure I believed in ghosts, but I firmly believed in my vivid imagination.

The phone rang as I poured my first cup of the day, and my teeth clenched. I hated the sound, the nerve-rattling jangle, and the irrational call to immediate action it demanded. I wished the telemarketers would at least allow me to enjoy my morning coffee. Who else would call so early?

At the second ring, I felt an ice-cold trickle creep up my spine, like when Sammy Mattingley threw ice cubes down the back of my blouse. My hand trembled, hesitating to answer when I recognized the number. It was my brother, Daniel.

At the third ring, I wished he hadn’t discovered I was home. Last month, Gwen spotted me leaving the crappy hotel I used as my temporary local residence while I house-shopped. This phone call meant the cat was out of the bag. I felt disloyal anyway, not letting

Gwen in on my secret return, but Daniel? My ten years away hadn’t healed all the old wounds. Creating a new life and forging my independence provided a much-needed salve to my soul. Still, I wished he didn’t know.

By the fourth ring, I’d convinced myself his call was to bitch at me—feigning hurt for not telling him I was back. My finger brushed against the phone’s “ignore” button…but what if it was about Nana? And he was my brother…the DNA test said so.

I answered before the fifth jingle when the voicemail would kick in. Might as well get it over with—in case it was about Nana…

“Hello?”

“Emma, I need you at the house as soon as you can get here.”

“Daniel? How about ‘Good morning, Emma. Did you pass the test and get your license, Emma? I’m so glad you’re home safe and—’ ”

“Not now, Sis. Please get here as soon as you can. It’s important. I need you.”

“Is something wrong with Nana? Is she—” But the line was already dead. Typical of my brother. His needs came before anyone else’s.

Pouring coffee in a go-cup, I threw on a pair of well-broken-in jeans and a sweatshirt, hopping toward the door as I pulled on my soft rubber clogs—as fancy as I get to go to the family farm. They needed me, and from Daniel’s perspective at least, they needed me now. He must figure even the black sheep of the family is handy in bad times. I brushed my hair with one hand and backed my old soft-top Bronco down the driveway with the other.


David W. Thompson

https://www.david-w-thompson.com

David is a multiple award-winning author, Army veteran, and graduate of UMUC. He’s a multi-genre writer and a member of the Horror Writers’ Association, and the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association. When not writing, Dave enjoys family, kayaking, fishing, hiking, hunting, winemaking, and woodcarving.


Saturday, November 16, 2024

I'm Okay!

Choose your words wisely when texting a friend 

My dear friend, Eva, sent me an urgent text just as I drifted into sleep. My heart jolted in my chest as I picked up my phone and read her message: I’m in the ER. Call me.

She's alive. She must be hurt badly. Thoughts ran through my mind as I jumped out of bed and rushed to the door. With trembling fingers and a racing mind, I fumbled with my phone to find her number. But in my haste, it slipped from my grasp and bounced down the stairs with a clatter.

“Darn it!” I cursed, watching the phone tumble and slide across the steps before landing with a loud crash on the hardwood floor of the living room.

Frustrated and slightly panicked, I hurried down the stairs to retrieve my device. “Of all times for this to happen,” I grumbled under my breath. “Now I have to waste even more time by using the landline to call her.”

As I reached the bottom step and picked up my phone. "Are you okay, buddy?" I mumbled when the ping sound signaled a new text message: I’m okay!

A thought raced through my mind like a bolt of lightning. My phone just texted me!

I stood frozen in utter confusion staring at my phone when a long text arrived: Don't you break your neck rushing to the ER! I tripped over Sparky in the kitchen and broke my arm. I don’t have a ride home. Steve is in LA. Can you pick me up in about an hour?

“It was Eva!” I mumbled. “Both times! I’m not losing my mind.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

Erika M Szabo

https://authorerikamszabo.com

Erika loves to dance to her own tunes and follow her dreams, introducing her story-writing skills and her books that are based on creative imagination with themes such as magical realism, alternate history, urban fantasy, cozy mystery, sweet romance, and supernatural stories. Her children’s stories are informative and educational and deliver moral values in a non-preachy way.

Friday, November 15, 2024

Snow Angels

 Winter fun


The drive home was slow, but Bruce didn't mind. The softly falling snow painted the world in a dreamy haze, covering every tiny branch on the trees and muffling the usual sounds of traffic. He rolled down his window, allowing the crisp winter air to fill his car, and breathed in deeply, savoring the quiet beauty around him.

"So beautiful," he murmured under his breath, mesmerized by the tranquility and serenity of the snow-covered landscape. The trees stood tall and proud, adorned in shimmering white with delicate icicles hanging from their branches. The bushes were transformed into round, fluffy shapes, looking like they were wearing cozy winter coats.

As he pulled into his driveway and got out of his car, a chorus of silver bell laughter greeted him. His daughter, Sammy, ran to give him a hug followed by a group of her first-grader friends. They all looked like little snowmen with their hats and mittens and rosy cheeks.

"Looks like your play date is going well," Bruce chuckled as he hugged Sammy tightly and took in the heartwarming sight of the bundled-up children playing in the snow. It was moments like this that made braving through the cold winter worth it.

"Yes, daddy, we're having so much fun!" little Sammy shouted; her voice filled with pure joy. Her mittens were covered in snow as she excitedly showed off the snowman they had built together.

Bruse smiled as he watched his daughter play. The winter sun cast a warm glow on the children's rosy cheeks and their laughter echoed through the snowy backyard.

As he looked up, he saw his wife Sarah walking toward him with a content smile on her face. He pulled her into a hug, feeling grateful for this moment of blissful family time.

But then he noticed Muffin, their beloved St. Bernard, sitting behind the sliding door longingly staring through the glass. "Aww...why didn't you let that poor dog come outside to play? Look at that sad face!" he pointed out to his wife.

Sarah sighed and explained, "I wanted to, but one of Sammy's little friends started crying as soon as she saw Muffin. She got scared by her size, so I had to leave her inside. Don't worry, we'll play with her after the parents pick up the kids. They should be here in about half an hour."

Bruce nodded understandingly but couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness for their gentle giant who just wanted to join in on the fun with her family.

With a glance at the forlorn dog, Bruce joined the children in their winter wonderland. Giggles and shouts filled the crisp air as they rolled snow into balls, stacking them on top of each other to create a makeshift snowman with a carrot nose and flowerpot hat.

As the sun began to set, Sarah noticed how red-cheeked and tired the children had become. She dropped down onto the soft, powdery snow and spread her arms, creating a perfect snow angel. The children eagerly followed suit, flattening out the snow until there were a dozen snow angels scattered across the backyard.

Just as they were finishing up, cars started pulling into the driveway, signaling the end of their snowy playtime. Amidst excited shouts of thanks and goodbyes, the yard fell silent.

Sammy ran up to the door and let Muffin out, who wasted no time bounding over to Bruce and Sarah. The dog showered them with slobbery kisses before joining Sammy in rolling around in the remaining patches of untouched snow. They played chase and tug-of-war with Muffin's beloved blue toy bear until all three of them were panting and out of breath from laughter.

The cold air nipped at their faces as Sarah shouted for Sammy to come inside and have some hot cocoa. The trio made their way toward the warm, welcoming door, but when Sarah turned around to see if Muffin was following, the dog hesitated and headed off in a different direction.

"Let her stay a little longer. Maybe she needs to do her business," Bruce suggested, a slight smile on his lips. "She'll let us know when she's ready to come in."

After they changed into dry clothes and huddled by the fireplace, Bruce ventured to the sliding door with a steaming cup of cocoa in hand. As he peered outside, his eyes widened in amazement. "Sarah, Sammy!" he called out, trying not to startle them. "Come quickly!"

Panicked, Sarah rushed to the door and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Look!" Bruce whispered, pointing at Muffin who Buster from down the street with a nose rub. "Her friend came to play."

They watched as the best friends chased each other in the snow, and then Muffin plopped down onto her side and began moving her legs up and down, creating a snow angel. Buster sat beside her, watching intently before bursting into his own flurry of snow-kicking fun.

"Aww...they look so happy," Sarah gushed, her heart warming at the sight. 

Sammy smiled in delight. "Muffin is teaching Buster how to make snow angels!" 

Erika M Szabo

https://authorerikamszabo.com

Erika loves to dance to her own tunes and follow her dreams, introducing her story-writing skills and her books that are based on creative imagination with themes such as magical realism, alternate history, urban fantasy, cozy mystery, sweet romance, and supernatural stories. Her children’s stories are informative and educational and deliver moral values in a non-preachy way.

Thursday, November 14, 2024

Our Song

We have our very own song 


In 2017, I started this blog with a group of fellow authors. We took turns posting about a variety of topics such as hobbies, travel, pets, cooking, reading, and writing. We even had contests and enjoyed ourselves. However, in 2019, the group fell apart, and everyone went their separate ways. I continued to post occasionally on my own, but it wasn't the same without the camaraderie, so I stopped updating the blog in 2022.

Ever since then, I have been writing and have successfully published a few books. About a year ago, I started the What If? Anthology Series with a new group of writers, and we recently released our fourth book.

It then occurred to me that I had forgotten about my blog, but upon checking the STATS after 2 years of inactivity, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it still had a strong following. People continue to visit and read the old posts.

After bringing it up to the anthology writer's group, some of us decided to resume the group project and publish one or two new blog posts every week.
~Erika M Szabo


What If? Anthology Series

Read about the series HERE

​When a collective of talented authors merge their literary skills and unleash their imaginations, a series is born to delight readers who crave thought-provoking stories and aren't afraid to ask the question, "What if?" With each turn of the page, readers are transported to fantastic worlds where anything is possible, and every twist and turn leaves them eagerly anticipating what will happen next. This collaboration of creative minds brings to life a captivating journey for those who dare to question the boundaries of reality and embrace the possibilities of the unknown.

The authors of the Anthology Series

Erika M Szabo
Erika loves to dance to her own tunes and follow her dreams, introducing her story-writing skills and her books that are based on creative imagination with themes such as magical realism, alternate history, urban fantasy, cozy mystery, sweet romance, and supernatural stories. Her children’s stories are informative and educational and deliver moral values in a non-preachy way.
Lorraine Carey
Lorraine Carey is a reading specialist and an Award-Winning Author. She was living in California until fate whisked her off to Grand Cayman. She currently lives in Florida. Her love for paranormal stories began at a young age, and is no stranger to the paranormal, having encountered unexplainable events that are woven into her stories.
David W. Thompson
David is a multiple award-winning author, Army veteran, and graduate of UMUC. He’s a multi-genre writer and a member of the Horror Writers’ Association, and the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association. When not writing, Dave enjoys family, kayaking, fishing, hiking, hunting, winemaking, and woodcarving.
R. A. “Doc” Correa 
A retired US Army military master parachutist, retired surgical technologist, and retired computer scientist. He’s an award-winning poet and author. “Doc” has had poems published in multiple books and had stories published in Bookish Magazine and Your Secret Library. His first novel, Rapier, won a Book Excellence award and was given a Reader’s Favorite five-star review.

Martha Perez

https://marthaperez.info/

Martha Perez was born in raised in Los Angeles, CA. She now lives in West Covina, CA, with her husband Sal Andalon and their dogs Toby and Bella. She has a son, a daughter, and two granddaughters. Her hobbies include reading, writing, exercising, and taking long walks.

Shebat Legion

Her work can be found wherever fine books are sold.

Shebat Legion is an award-winning, internationally best-selling, consummate storyteller/producer/publisher whose quirky tales have appeared in numerous anthologies of various genres, and offerings of her work have been archived on the moon via The Lunar Codex associated with NASA.

Robert Allen Lupton

https://robertallenlupton.blogspot.com

Robert Allen Lupton is retired and lives in New Mexico. He has three novels, seven short story collections and three edited anthologies available in print and audio versions. Over 2000 of his Edgar Rice Burroughs themed drabbles and articles are located on erbzine.com

S.S. Bazinet

https://www.ssbazinet.com/

S. S. Bazinet is a multi-genre author who loves penning stories that inspire her readers. When writing, she keeps it real. Her characters often start off in very dicey situations. They make their mistakes, hopefully learn to correct course, and find a way to keep going when all seems lost.

Alan Zacher

https://www.goldenboxbooks.com/alan-zacher.html

I graduated from UCLA, studying Acting and Writing. Fifteen years after graduating from college, I returned to my hometown of St. Louis, Missouri, and began teaching English and stated writing.

S. M. Revolinski

https://www.goldenboxbooks.com/s-m-revolinski.html

A retired engineer. When not entertaining his grandchildren, he enjoys writing. Most of his stories are science fiction, connections between the supernatural and the real world – what if ‘this’ really happened? Breaking from Sci-Fi, his recent stories have been Westerns. The “Tales From Wyoming” is a collection of interconnected short stories of the Old West.

Toi Thomas

https://linktr.ee/toithomas

A self-proclaimed techie and foodie, Toi Thomas enjoys cooking, animals, geek culture, and collecting vinyl records. She writes clean, adult, multi-genre fiction as well as nonfiction, and picture books. Toi actively creates for and with her fans at The ToiBox of Words blog, her YouTube channel, and on Patreon.

E.V. Emmons

https://eclark46.wixsite.com/-evemmons

E.V. Emmons lives in Ontario. Author of the novels ETERNITY AWAITS, THE SINISTRATI, and the writer’s guide, ‘WRITE HERE, WRITE NOW!’ As a contributor to several anthologies, her work even made it to the Moon with the Lunar Codex Program aboard lander Odysseus in February 2024. Available on Amazon.

Karen Ovér

https://balletsandbogeys.weebly.com/golemwerks.html

Karen Ovér is back in Texas after more than a decade in New York City. Her latest works appear in the anthologies The Book of Carnacki, The Legion Press, Dark Yonder #6, and the forthcoming Arkham Institutions, available late 2024 from Dragon’s Roost Press.

James Harper

His work can be found wherever fine books are sold.

A transplanted native in a city full of them, James Harper is a bestselling horror writer living with his daughter in a suburb just north of Washington DC. His love of music is only rivaled by his passion for film, but both take a backseat when a Phillies game’s on.

Victoria Adams

https://victoriasreadingalcove.com   

Adams lives and works in the resplendent Pacific Northwest. She spends her time with her characters and a feline named Sir Linus. She has published two nonfiction titles and contributed to anthologies of fiction and poetry. Her exploration of the world and ideas, in general, can be found at victoriasreadingalcove.com.


Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Guest Author Victoria Adams

 The trip that wasn't on my bucket list


A tale of a trip I never knew was on my bucket list, and other unplanned adventures.

As much as I love the ocean, I normally appreciate its wonders from the beach. I have been on boats, mostly lake-sized, and the occasional sailboat in the Gulf. It’s not that I don’t like boats, but the opportunity, funds, and incentive never occurred at the same moment in time. Until a couple of years ago.

I love writing, and I must admit, I love numbers. My day job for a very long time has been taking care of other people’s numbers. A couple years ago, one of my clients was invited to a day trip on a deep-sea fishing charter boat as a reward for a job well done. The invitation was for the staff and each person’s plus one. Any licenses required would be included. (If you know about these things, you know we still paid the tips and brought our own lunches).

For some reason, my client thought I should be a participant, so a day was picked post tax season allowing me to join. Everything was set, right?

Um, not quite. Part of getting ready for such trips includes making sure you have proper attire, cash for tips, and lunch. Oh, and a plan to be on the dock before the crack of dawn. I did make sure I had appropriate gear, but then it appeared that no one had planned the rest of it. Getting a check cashed was easy, and I arranged to stay over in town so I could order and pick up the lunches we would need. I also stocked up on saltines, 7-Up, and apples (good for queasy tummies) and seasick meds. Somehow, I managed to load up, check out, and get to the dock at the appointed time. At which point I pressed other people into moving my treasures to the boat.

This was May and the weather was still on the chilly side with lots of rain and wind. I wasn’t all that sure this was going to be the trip I had signed up for. I can tell you that the owner piloted the boat, and I do believe that our exit from the bay was as smooth as he could make it. Fully committed at this point (you do NOT turn the boat around unless someone is dying) I figured I’d just hang on for dear life and hope for the best.

I was in luck. Once we broke free of the bay, we found a sunny, nearly flat ocean surface. I’m told by those who know that it is rare that the waves are not much higher than you would find on a lake. As long as the boat was moving, I was fine. Anchored, not so much. I did try out the fishing part for a bit, but I had more fun handing out my goodies, making sure everyone got the lunch they wanted, and taking pictures.

Our seagulls are well trained and know to follow the charter boats on their way back to shore because chum is on the menu. By the time we docked, the crew had the fish skinned, cleaned, and sorted into bags.

I probably would not try this adventure again (unless I’m on a really, really big boat), but I’m glad I did decide to go this one time. Our boat maxed out our person limit, so I made it home with 30 pounds of fish which I immediately divvied up among friends while keeping a few pounds for myself.

If you ever visit the Pacific Northwest, you should check out the coastal town of Westport, WA with its active fishing community, awesome restaurants, and local-folk atmosphere. Plus, they have really fund festivals. (check out https://www.westportgrayland-chamber.org/

Victoria Adams

https://victoriasreadingalcove.com   

Adams lives and works in the resplendent Pacific Northwest. She spends her time with her characters and a feline named Sir Linus. She has published two nonfiction titles and contributed to anthologies of fiction and poetry. Her exploration of the world and ideas, in general, can be found at victoriasreadingalcove.com.


Tuesday, November 12, 2024

Brownie, The Clueless Pup

 Brownie the Clueless pup

There are way too many serious stuff is going on right now,
we all need a little break.
I made a fun song in memory of my dog, Brownie. he was clueless, he would trip on his own paws, fall into his water bowl, or spending 15 minutes trying to bring a long stick through the door.
He wasn't the smartest, but he was the sweetest little guy.

Watch the videos to hear the entire song. Enjoy!
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Erika M Szabo


Monday, November 11, 2024

Unexpected Trip

 Was it a dream or did she travel through time?

Pompeii

“Valeria . . . Valeria, can you hear me?” a strange voice echoed as the young woman struggled to open her eyes seeing two tall young girls possibly in their late teens dressed in white togas at her side. “She’s coming to,” said one of the girls.

“Where . . . where am I?”

“You are in the House of the Vestals, my dear. You passed out a short time ago as you were working out in the garden on your jug and hit your head on one of the pedestals. You know you were told to avoid being in the sun too long with your fair skin,” the first girl spoke.

“And who are you?”

Both girls looked at each other quizzically.

“I am Dalanya and this is Catania, your Vestal Sisters.” Dalanya took her hand and helped Valeria to sit up on the cot.

“I don’t remember any of this I tell you, the young woman claimed as she glanced around at her surroundings. Her eyes scanned the area that revealed tall pillars and large marble statues that led out to a massive courtyard with a huge fountain. “This has to be a dream! I mean—”

“Catania has sent for the Medicus. He should be here shortly,” Dalanya said as she laid her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “He’ll know what to do.”

An older man dressed in multicolored robes carrying a large satchel approached from the outside patio entering the small chamber. He had instructed Dalanya and Catania to inform him as to what had occurred.

“I know this young lady. She has simply fainted. I have treated her before for a similar condition. A vial of Posca is all she needs. She gets dehydrated easily. He pulled a small vial from his satchel and instructed her to drink, which she did.

She wiped her lips after chugging down the entire contents of the vial and gave the Medicus a skeptical look. “Exactly what’s in that?” She scrunched up her nose showing her distaste for the drink.

“It’s a mixture of vinegar, water, and herbs,” he said.

“My name is Ramethius, the Medicus and I believe you may also have a slight concussion from hitting your head.”

“Oh,” the woman uttered as he checked her eyes and head using a strange instrument from his bag that managed to clamp open her eyes.

“Her pupils are not dilated but she still may have a slight concussion,” he announced as he turned to the girls. “Best to keep an eye on her the rest of the day. Make sure you don’t let her sleep.”

“Why can’t she remember who she is? Dalanya asked.

“Well, she’s one of the oldest Vestals here, I mean—” Catania added. “Could be her age.”

“It may be a temporary case of amnesia. It should return in time,” Ramethius said as he secured his bag. “Now I must go as I’m needed at the House of Faun.”

Both Dalanya and Catania sat next to Valeria giving her words of comfort but most of all encouraging her to rest.

“Your artwork can wait, Sister,” Dalanya said, taking her hand. “You heard what the Medicus said.

“Rest . . . rest! I can’t rest!” She shot up. “I have to finish my piece for the art show for Aulius Restituto. It will be featured among some of the other fine pieces here in Pompeii then grace the main hall of the house of Vetti.”

The girls both looked at each other astounded. “Well then, I guess her amnesia has instantly returned,” Dalanya said.

“It was probably the mention of artwork that brought her back,” Catania said. “We both know how obsessive she is about that show she keeps talking about.”

Valeria tried to rise from her cot but both girls gently pushed her back to a lying position. “You will rest here for a few hours.”

Valeria reasoned she had to agree to the girls’ wishes but knew once they were out of sight, she’d plan to get back to painting her jug.

She watched the girls walk through the archway that led out to the lush gardens. I can only hope to see my beloved Marcus. I know he will be working in the kitchens today at the Vetti House. I long to feel his strong arms around me again. We’ve managed to keep this secret for some time now. Should we be caught- I’d be banned from the House of Vestals and he being a slave would be sentenced to death!

Valeria felt a slight dizziness sensation overtake her and decided to sit for a while until it had passed. I’ve got to finish that jug. Tomorrow is the show and I’ll crawl if I have to get it over there. She fiddled with her long black braid that hung to one side over her shoulder making sure the gold threads were securely in place that were weaved into the braid. A Vestal always had to look her best whenever she was out in the public eye.

“We both know what she’s up to,” Dalanya said as she and Catania walked through the garden.

“You mean that slave, Marcus that works over at the Vetti House?”

“Yes, Rumor has it she’s been sneaking off to see him.”

“It’s true, and if she’s caught, we both know the consequences both of them will face,” Dalanya said as she bent down to smell the flowery scent of a hearty lilac bush.

“You going to tell on her?” Catania asked.”

“No. I don’t think we need to be known as spies here. Besides she is close to being released from her service very soon. She can be with Marcus all she wants then.”

The ground shook with tremors and some of the larger garden pots had moved.

“Not that again!” Catania shouted. “This is the second time this week it’s happened.”

“Not to worry, it’s very common as you well know, Dalanya said trying to calm her friend.  That volcano has to release the pressure now and then, my friend. Now let’s head over to the Temple of Isis and make sure all is well over there.”

Valeria also felt the tremors as she tried to gain some steadiness to stand. “Great! Just what I need now,” she murmured.

Continue reading the story in the book:

https://books2read.com/u/m27NQd

What if you think the known world isn’t strange enough? Embark on a journey that pushes the boundaries, challenges your perception, and questions reason, logic, and established beliefs.


Sunday, November 10, 2024

Book Sunday

 Enjoy today's selection

In online bookstores, readers often discover new books by browsing the bestselling titles in their desired genre. However, popularity does not always equate to quality. Countless hidden gems may not receive as much promotion but offer incredible stories that deserve recognition and readership.


Watch this short video.
Lorraine Carey and Erika M Szabo discuss how readers' preferences have changed since the internet provides a wide variety of entertainment.

About The Seven Cozy Shorts

Cozy bedtime stories for grownups
Erika said, "I categorize these stories as cozy because the reader can finish a story in one sitting, usually, it takes from an hour to an hour and a half to read a story. When you have a family to take care of and a job to get up early, these shorter novellas are perfect to cozy up in bed with and finish a story before falling asleep. The stories are not overwhelmingly long, and the readers are introduced to fewer characters and places than in long novels, so you don’t need to memorize so many names. The scenes and characters are not described in minute details, just enough to create a quick mental picture of the people and place where things happen."

The stories in the book:

Ancient ghost:
Thousands of years ago Tanakhmet cursed Prince Akhmose to never enter the heavenly paradise. But after Layla breaks the curse, does he really want to?
Mysterious omen:
Lauren has everything she’d ever wished for. When her Raven spirit guide warns her of impending danger, she knows her life is in danger. Who wants her dead and why?
Jealous acolyte:
A potion made with haste out of jealousy puts Dorian into a coma. The rare orchid that could save his life is fiercely guarded by werewolves in the forbidden forest. Will they succeed in saving his life?
Christmas magic:
Elana’s life was a revolving door of shattered hopes and disappointments. Until she met Luca. Allowing them only a short time of happiness, cruel fate tore them apart. Will they meet again?
Small town mystery:
The snobbish new owner of the Couture mansion brings a worthless painting into Danielle’s antique shop and the town’s future is threatened by the plans of the ruthless, rich owner. Is the painting truly worth nothing or...
Soulmates across time:
Caleb lost his soulmate, Valerie. Can he find her in a parallel universe? If his father succeeds in opening the portal, will he find the same person or a stranger in the alternate universe?
Love conquers fear:
People are not perfect, and we all come with baggage. They might show a picture-perfect family life but hide the struggles, heartache, compromises, and sacrifices they made to get there.

Reviewed in the United States on June 23, 2022
Ancient Ghost is my favorite but they are all great. This is an awesome anthology of adult bedtime stories.

Find the eBook, print, or audiobook in your favorite STORE

The stories are also available separately in eBooks

 
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Audiobook reviews:

5 out of 5 stars

Beautiful stories perfectly narrated
I enjoyed each of the stories. Erika created believable characters and situations. Pat Mahoney's narration was excellent. I was impressed by his range as he change his voice between characters. His music also enhanced the listening experience without detracting from the stories themselves.
    
5 out of 5 stars

Great audiobook!
I enjoyed this audiobook very much. The stories by Erika Szabo were well written and engaging. The narration by Pat Mahoney brought all the characters to life. The music added to the enjoyment of the stories. Highly recommended!
    
5 out of 5 stars

Intense Cozy Shorts
These cozy mysteries went from absolutely creepy to seriously intense and I loved every moment of it. The stories are well written, entertaining and full of intricate twist that make you want to keep listening. The cozy shorts are different and some are quite unique. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who loves mysteries that range from the paranormal to second chances. This is my honest unbiased review.

5 out of 5 stars

  • Daisy
  • 06-11-21

  • Fantastic stories I loved listening to this audiobook. The stories were great and the narrator did a wonderful job. He is very talented and the music and voices he did made this a fantastic listen.

Erika M Szabo

https://authorerikamszabo.com

Erika loves to dance to her own tunes and follow her dreams, introducing her story-writing skills and her books that are based on creative imagination with themes such as magical realism, alternate history, urban fantasy, cozy mystery, sweet romance, and supernatural stories. Her children’s stories are informative, and educational, and deliver moral values in a non-preachy way.

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