Some years ago, I was asked by a lovely, caring lady author in London to contribute to a scheme highlighting the plight of neglected and abused children in the USA.
With my weapon of choice being the mighty pen, I decided to write a Drabble come poem. With only 100 words to play with I knew that it had to be punchy, yet thought provoking, and with an important message in the last line.
Luckily, the title - My Little Runaway - immediately jumped into my head. And the messages of what to write flowed like a never ending tap, only abating when I had finished. But with only 100 words to play with, excluding the title, I had to pare back anything superfluous to the tale. I must confess, finding the last few words for the ending did take many hours to appear in my grey matter. Eventually, though, a smile passed over me. All the hours of thought had been worthwhile and I was satisfied with the final line.
Life can be so hard for some children, whilst others are blessed with all the home comforts. As the law of nature rules, no child picks their parents. Yet, we are all the same, or as my son says – ‘Same, same, but different, Dad.’
As a man, I deplore man’s inhumanity to man. As a father and grandfather, I loathe any cruelty to children no matter who they are or where they live.
My Little Runaway was dedicated to all those alone in the dark.
And finally, I’ll leave you with this thought.
Grown-ups may rule the world we live in but only our children have the power to change it.
As my Drabble has been previously published, there is no place for it here. However, if you would like to read it, I’d be pleased to send you a copy.
A soldier with classified information. Two races at war. Both governments will kill him to hide their secrets.
Lieutenant Jackson Peterson thought he knew who the enemy was. A bitter war with the Kelsairans made it abundantly clear. When Jackson saves a Kelsairan woman from a wrecked ship, the line is suddenly blurred. The enemy isn’t what the government said they were and he can no longer blindly follow orders. A shocking discovery leads Jackson down a sinister path of intrigue that could change the fate of two races. But, both the Kelsairan and the Human governments will kill him to keep their secrets. Jackson will risk everything to stop them. Will it be enough? Or will he die in the process?
Neutral Space is a Literary Titan gold medal winning space opera. If you like action filled sci-fi novels, with genuine characters, great world building, and humor you’ll love this book.
I was on a week leave on Micea. It’s a neutral planet, completely alone. It was exactly what I wanted. My tent was pitched, and a fire was blazing. I was a short hike from the lake, perfect for fishing and swimming. I’d been there once before and loved the spot. As I put a pot of coffee on the fire, I saw the ship coming in hot. It was in trouble, and the pilot was struggling to keep it steady. I grabbed my med pack and ran to where it was going to crash.
The ship knocked over trees as it skid into the ground. The earth shook, and there was a crash when it impacted. I nearly lost my footing. It only made me run faster. Whoever it was wouldn’t have much time if the ship was heavily damaged. I was relieved to see it was a human craft when I reached the ridge; an old one, but human nonetheless. The hatch was still closed, which was a bad sign; and, the ship was on fire. I found the emergency release lever as I wrapped my hand in the corner of my shirt to protect it from the hot metal. The hatch opened like a charm when I pulled it.
I fell on my ass when I saw an unconscious Kelsairan woman. It was a human craft. Why the hell was a Kelsairan piloting it? She groaned slightly. Kelsairans were the enemy. I should have left her. I couldn’t abandon her to die now that I knew she was alive. My honor wouldn’t allow it. I cursed the whole time I pulled her out of the wreckage. She was bleeding from a wound in her leg, and I knew my med kit would be useless. Kelsairan anatomy was different than a human’s. I cursed again as I hunted for her med kit. Luckily, she’d kept it close at hand, and I found it quickly.
I dragged her to safety just as her ship exploded. It knocked me back a step, and I instinctively covered the woman from debris. The noise had my ears ringing. The heat from the fire was unbearable. I pulled her further away until I could figure out a plan.
It was a long hike back to my camp. I bandaged her wound temporarily before making a sled to take her the rest of the way. Getting her back, unfortunately, was the easy part. I had to properly address the wound on her upper thigh once she was at my camp. Her one-piece outfit complicated everything. I needed to get to the injury, and its location made it impossible to just cut off the pant leg.
My task would have been far easier if Kelsairans didn’t look like humans, but they did. They were usually taller and leaner with opaque eyes and ridges on their brows. Everything else made them appear human. This woman was no exception, and she was undeniably attractive. She was tall and slim. Her breasts were small, yet firm; her hips were perfectly curved. She had ice-blonde hair that was slicked back. Her oblong face had high cheekbones and full lips. I was never this close to one of their women before. I never realized how beautiful they were. Well, this one was anyway. I tried waking her first, hoping I wouldn’t have to undress her myself but she was unconscious. I considered waiting until morning, but the wound was oozing, and I was afraid of it getting infected.
I shook her one last time before reaching for the zipper at her neck. Nothing, she was out cold. Damn, I pulled the zipper down my hands shaking like I was a virgin. I tried not to look as I quickly undressed her, I put one of my own t-shirts on her, but her body was flawless. If I think about it, I can still remember it now. I draped a blanket over her torso and other leg as I worked on her wound. There was a piece of metal lodged in the wound. I had to fish around for it before disinfecting and bandaging it. She looked ridiculous in my shorts. At least she was dressed.
I didn’t want to move her again, so I brought my sleeping bag out of the tent and rolled her in. The coffee I’d started earlier was ruined now. I started a fresh pot for my night vigil. Who was this woman and why was she here? I sank into my chair watching as she slept.
I am a mother, pharmacist, and author. I love all things science fiction and fantasy. Although I loved writing Neutral Space, it will probably be the only science fiction book I ever write. My brain doesn't seem to function in the hyper-reality that sci-fi uses as a genre. So I'll stick to fantasy and romance. Right now I'm not writing anything but I hope to return to my fantasy and romance series soon. Unfortunately life is getting in the way right now. If you would like to know more about me please visit my website. If you would like to see all of my books please visit my store.
Terry is struggling to learn numbers. Pansy, Terry’s
dog, and Pansy’s best friend, Oliver, the hedgehog, want to help but they don’t
know how. In the morning, Terry tells her mother that the fairy showed her the
numbers in her dream.
A few pages from the book
A review
"Great colors, interesting images - lot's to see - will draw children in. Lots of empathy - and an alternative learning method - dream learning - which is in fact a technique used through the ages. I like the fact that the reader and parent can see the dream - and each number has an image associated with it. I believe the well placed “mistake” is clever, and again prompts interaction between the reader and child. I also like the fact that most of the faces in the book ( whether animals or children playing) "speak" to the reader - so in essence - well constructed - bright lively images - empathy and interest to the reader and pupil - no negatives - well done!"~Monty J McClaine, children's author
Over the next several posts I will be talking about animals in folklore. Wolves feature in several different cultures and will take at least two posts to cover. This week we will talk about wolves in Norse Mythology. Many people have a little insight into Norse mythology thanks to the show Vikings and the Thor movies. Although Thor takes mythology and twists it quite a bit. But both mention Ragnarok. It's the Norse version of the end of the world and at the center of it all is a giant wolf.
Fenrir is the son of Loki, the god of mischief, and Angrboda a giantess. To keep him under control the Aesir gods, or gods of Asgard, raised him themselves. When he grew too fast it worried the gods and they decided to chain him up. It took three tries to make chains strong enough to hold Fenrir and by then the wolf was suspicious. The god's tricked Fenrir into the chains. They claimed they wanted to see if he could break them. In the end the god Tyr placed his hand in Fenrir's mouth as a sign of good faith and Fenrir put the chains on. When the wolf couldn't break free Fenrir bit off Try's hand. A sword was placed in Fenrir's mouth to keep it open after that. The angry wolf howled and foamed at the mouth forming the river Expectation or Ván in old Norse. Legend says that at Ragnarok he will break free of his chains and run through the world with his bottom jaw on the ground and his upper jaw touching the sky eating everything in his path. It also says that Fenrir will kill Odin himself before one of Odin's sons finally kills Fenrir.
Two more famous wolves in Norse mythology are said to be Fenrir's offspring, Skoll and Hati. Scholars still debate the relationship but their names and function are known. Skoll and Hati chase the sun and moon through the sky giving the Norse people day and night. There is still debate over which one chased what though. One recognized author believes Skoll chases the sun and Hati chases the moon. It's hard to say for sure if he is correct. Religion and history were all oral traditions for the Norse people and changed depending on the story teller. There were also few records of anything. For now we'll have to enjoy the fact that wolves chased the sun and moon and won't catch them until Ragnarok comes.
Odin kept a pair of wolves as his constant companions. He named them Geri and Freki. Some prose refer to him feeding his wolves at the table while he drank only wine. Others refer to Odin's hounds on the battle fields searching for carion amongst the dead. Its not the nicest picture but I wouldn't want to mess with those wolves.
In my next post in this series I'll cover more wolves from European folklore.
A wolf plays a key role in my newest paranormal romance Honor Bound. If you want to see how my great white wolf features in my story you'll have to read it to find out. The book is featured in the Moonlight Mist anthology so you'll get 17 other steamy romances as a bonus.
I am a mother, pharmacist and author. I love all things fantasy and sci-fi. Romance is always a welcome bonus. I have two little girls and I love dogs, I have two of those as well, a Boston Terrier and a Pittie mix. So technically some would say I have four kids. I am currently on a writing hiatus but hope to get back to my romance series or my fantasy series soon. Right now my girls are my priority. My all time favorite series of books is the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind. I've read all 12 of the original series at least twice and some 3 or 4 times. I know I'm a little obsessed but who doesn't like a normal guy that becomes a hero. Oh Richard Rahl! If you'd like to know more about me or my books please see my website. If you would like more info about my books you can find it on my store.
I learned English as an adult and the comma became my worst nightmare when I started writing.
Where it's needed and don't need it?
I rely on the editors to catch my mistakes, but I really should use my cheat-sheet more often. I bet my editor would have fewer headaches.
Let's see some more rules which are the authors' and editors' cause headache:
Irregular Verbs
The English language has quite a few surprises. The irregular verbs must be learned, simple as that.
Let's see the word: broadcast. You'd assume the past tense would be: broadcasted. But no, just to give you a headache, for this word a past tense doesn't exist.
So you have to say: "Yesterday ABC broadcast a new show."
The list of about 200 irregular verbs is so extensive that one blog post is not enough to list them.
It's versus Its
Normally, an apostrophe symbolizes possession.
"I took the dog's pillow."
But because apostrophes also usually replace omitted letters — like "don't" — the "it's" versus "its" decision gets complicated.
Use "its" as the possessive pronoun:
"I took its pillow."
For the shortened version of "it is" use the version with the apostrophe.
"It's sunny outside."
Nor versus Or
Use "nor" before the second or farther of two alternatives when "neither" introduces the first.
Think of it as "or" for negative sentences, and it's not optional.
"Neither Cathy nor I understand the new program." You can also use nor with a negative first clause or sentence including "not."
"Cathy didn't understand the program, nor did I."
Then versus Than
Use "then" when discussing time.
"We had dinner, and then we watched a movie."
Use "than" in comparisons.
"Episode three was far better than episode two."
Ending Sentences With Prepositions
First of all, don't do it — usually.
Yeah, easier said than done!
"My boss explained the new rules, which we had to abide by." sounds awful.
In most cases, you can just transpose the preposition to the beginning of the clause.
"My boss explained the new rules, by which we had to abide."
Or better yet, rephrase the sentence to avoid this problem:
"My boss explained the new rules."
I write fiction, children's books, and health related books.
In many religions, the spring equinox is an incredibly important time. It represents new light, new life, and new beginnings.
Trees and bushes that lost their leaves over the winter begin to grow new leaves again and also flower in spring. This happens because the temperature of the air and soil starts to warm up and the hours of daylight increase as the days get longer with the coming of spring.
My dad always had big gardens and big ideas about what to do with the things harvested from the garden. Along with what he grew in the garden he also liked to find unique ways to make use of other things in nature. So, keeping that in mind, one Easter when I was growing up, not sure how old I was my dad decided he wanted to try his hand at making wine. He didn’t plan on making your regular grape wine, although we did grow grapes. Instead he chose something that one might not normally consider a normal thing that was harvested from a garden. No, he wanted to make Dandelion wine.
So, the afternoon of that Easter Sunday rolls around. We had gone to mass in the morning and collected our Easter baskets. I’m not sure if my grandparents had already arrived or if we were still waiting for them, but Dad decided it was the best time to pick the dandelions. So, he sent us girls out to go up the dirt road that we lived on and pick all the dandelions we could find. Not an activity my sisters and I particularly relished doing, but you didn’t question Dad. We changed out of our Easter best and loaded with buckets set out to pick the dandelions. Not sure how long we were out there, but we did get quite a few dandelions.
A few days later the time had come for Dad to make his wine. I don’t remember the process; I just remember the bottles of wine fermenting in our basement. Then one evening as we were all settling down for a relaxing evening, we heard a loud “POP” coming from the basement. This was followed by several more pops. When we went to the basement to figure out what was happening, we discovered that the bottles of Dandelion wine had exploded.
So, after all of our hard work picking those lovely flowers, I don’t think anyone ever got to drink the resulting wine.
RICE PIE:
A Rhode Islander’s Recipe to Celebrate an Italian Easter Tradition
Rice pie (torta di riso), is an Italian dessert consisting of eggs, rice, ricotta cheese, and citrus. After baking, it becomes a bottom layer of chewy rice topped with a separate layer of creamy custard.
In 1524, Italian navigator Giovanni da Verrazano was the first European to visit any part of Rhode Island. He came to what is now Block Island and named it “Luisa” after Louise of Savoy, Queen mother of France. Due to a mistake in surveying the land, the original name didn’t stick. Since one of the six largest ancestry groups in the state is that of the Italians, eating rice pie is a celebratory Easter tradition which has stuck.
My maternal grandmother who emigrated from Naples, Italy to Rhode Island made her “crustless” rice pies from memory, as does my mother who finally scribbled the recipe on a card for posterity. I have merely reduced the ingredients from the original recipe to yield one pie rather than six, though this dessert is irresistible and begs indulgence throughout the year.
Ingredients
9 eggs
1 ½ cups white sugar
1 (32 oz.) ricotta cheese (may use skim, fat free, or reduced fat)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups light cream
1 cup cooked white rice (River for starchy consistency)
1 (15 ounce) can, crushed pineapple—drained; or the juice of two
squeezed lemons with lemon zest (depending on your flavor preference for pineapple or lemon)
¼ teaspoon cinnamon for dusting the top of the pie before placing in oven
Directions
1. Beat eggs in large mixing bowl. Add sugar, mixing well. Stir in ricotta and vanilla until smooth. Add cream and stir. Fold in cooked rice and either crushed pineapples or lemon juice/zest.
2. Pour mixture into a Crisco greased, lightly floured 9 ½ by 13 ½ in. Pyrex dish. Sprinkle cinnamon on top.
3. Bake at 325 degrees F for one hour—top should be golden brown; toothpick test. Refrigerate until thoroughly cooled. Tastes best served at room temperature right from its baking dish.
Though pastry chefs at Italian bakeries rise to the occasion to follow their own tried and true recipes for baking rice pies, you might want to establish your own family tradition in the kitchen. Generations of Italian-Americans who settled in Rhode Island have done just that by whisking ingredients for a recipe celebrating a family who sticks together.
Fourteen years of food rationing in Britain officially ended at midnight on 4 July 1954. With the restriction on the sale and purchase of meat and bacon finally lifted, the British people could once again enjoy meat and two veg for Sunday lunch.
Only, they couldn’t. Money was scarce, and the meat in the shops was too expensive for most families. The rich could eat well, the rest of the population survived on anything they could.
But what has this got to do with Easter?
I didn’t eat a bar of chocolate until I was eleven years old and I guess it was a few years later before I was given a nicely wrapped chocolate egg to enjoy. Kids like me didn’t know any better, and why should we? What you didn’t know, didn’t affect you.
The Easter bunny never existed for my sister and I. We didn’t have a television set and thus knew little about the Easter holidays. All the family went to church but on looking back, the preaching flew over our heads. However, I always remember eating fresh meat over the Easter period.
It was many years later before I eventually found out why we had kept so many lovely bunny rabbits in our garden.
The locsolkodás (sprinkling) is a unique Hungarian tradition which dates back to centuries.
Although it's a symbol of fertilization and the start of new life, it's also a form of fun socialization and strengthening of family bond and friendship.
On Monday, young boys and teenagers get together with their friends and hide with bucketful of water behind trees and bushes. Girls walk the streets in groups and pretend to be surprised and squeal with delight when the boys douse them with water from head to toe. The girls reward them with painted eggs.
Easter Tuesday it's the girls' turn to ensure the future fertility of boys by saturating them with water, and yes, boys
Men visit all the women in their families, friends, and neighbors. At each stop, they recite a short locsolóvers (sprinkling poem) and sprinkle perfume or scented water on the hair of the women.
The men must recite a poem, either traditional or ones they come up with such as:
I was walking in a green forest,
and saw a blue violet.
It had started to wilt,
may I sprinkle it?
The women offer them a few bite from the traditional Hungarian breakfast plate and pálinka (strong brandy).
Refusing pálinka is impolite, so you can imagine how drunk the men get by the time they finish visiting every woman they know.
The traditional Hungarian Easter breakfast is rich to begin with but made even richer with the dual purpose palate cleanser/dessert, the sweet cheese.
Growing up we never had ice-water or soda on the table, it was not (and still not) part of the Hungarian diet to mix warm food with icy drinks. If the food called for a drink such as breakfast, we had hot tea, coffee, or hot chocolate, but never cold milk.
Other nations use neutral flavor ice-cream to cleanse the palate between dishes, we had a bite of sweet-cheese between ham and sausage to neutralize the taste and cleanse the palate. But for kids, this was a very tasty breakfast treat.
Ingredients:
1 quart milk
10 eggs
vanilla
1.5 cups sugar
salt to taste
Watch the video to see how it's made:
Visit every blog that participates in this fun blog-hop and collect 12 words (hidden in the text of the posts between 6 asterisks (such as ***different words on each blog***)
If you visit every blog on the list at the end of this post and collect the 12 words, you'll have a quote about writing.
Prizes:
Grand prize $30 gift card
or one of the 3 smaller prizes: $5 gift card each.
How to enter the contest
Visit every blog from May 12-17 on the list below and find the hidden word in each post. On May 17 at the last stop of the 6 days long blog-hop you'll be directed back to this post.
We will add a Google form where you can enter the 12 words long sentence which you'll collect word by word from each blog.
I learned English as an adult and the comma became my worst nightmare when I started writing.
Where it's needed and don't need it?
I rely on the editors to catch my mistakes, but I really should use my cheat-sheet more often. I bet my editor would have fewer headaches.
I will continue sharing my cheat-sheet next week about the use of the pesky comma.
But this week let's talk about some of the pesky rules:
Apostrophe
Normally, an apostrophe symbolizes possession: "I took Mandy's purse."
Apostrophes can also replace omitted letters: "I don't, I can't."
When used as a possessive pronoun: "The dog had a toy. I took its toy."
For the shortened version of "it is" use the version with the apostrophe: "It's raining outside."
Fewer or less?
We use "fewer" when discussing something countable: "Fewer than ten people saw the flying object."
We use "less" for intangible concepts: "I spent less than one hour coloring the picture."
Dangling modifiers
These are ambiguous, adjectival clauses at the beginning or end of sentences that often don't modify the right word or phrase:
"Rotting in the pantry, our Mandy threw the onions in the garbage." The structure of this sentence implies that Mandy is a zombie rotting in the pantry.
But when you place the modifying clause right next to the word or phrase it intends to describe:
"Mandy, threw the onions, rotting in the pantry, in the garbage." Then we know the onions went bad in the pantry and not Mandy.
Me, myself, or I?
Me and I always function. as the object.
"My friend and I went to lunch."
"Sara asked Betty and me to go hiking."
"I ate five apples."
When you've referred to yourself earlier in the sentence: "I made myself breakfast."
Who or whom?
It's not always easy to tell subjects from objects but to use an over-simplified yet good, general rule: subjects start sentences (or clauses), and objects end them.
"Who is a bully?"
"Careful whom you call a bully."
Lie or lay?
This is a pretty confusing rule:
The word "lay" must have an object, so we don't say: "I'm going to go lay down." Someone lays something somewhere: "Mandy lays her pen on the table."
You lie. Unless you lay, which means lie but in the past tense:
PresentPast
LieLieLay
LayLayLaid
Next time we'll talk about nor versus or, than versus then, irregular verbs and a few other things, and I will continue sharing the pesky comma rules cheat-sheet. Don't miss the posts!
In this short story collection I mentioned a few stories about the humorous part of learning a new language along with stories from my nursing years.
The OAG gang has a small corner on Facebook where we exchange ideas and help each other with publishing and book promotion. Just as in many other group, we have active members and others who read the posts once in a while. And then a small group of members who read posts but stay in the background and never comment on posts or offer help to others.
We dedicate this weekend to the most active members who take a few minutes almost every day, read and share blog posts, interact with others, and help others with useful advice or just share the book promo posts to spread the news about other group members' books.
I tagged the most active members in a post in our Facebook group and asked them to introduce themselves and add their author links.
Click on the link below to read a little bit about the most active members in the comments of the post:
Please share the Facebook post, or this blog posts, on your social sites.
Let your friends know about this wonderful group of authors.
A few of the OAG group authors participated in a group video recently, enjoy meeting a group of writers from around the world on this page:https://www.authorerikamszabo.com/oag.html
I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love all things fantasy and science fiction. Mix in a little romance and you've got me hooked. When I decided to write a stand alone romance for an anthology that I am part of, Moonlight Mist, I stepped away from shifters and turned to Ireland for inspiration. More specifically the fae and Tir Na Nog, or Underhill as most know it, were my muse. Who could resist beautiful creatures and a land of magic? Certainly not me. The result was my newest title Honor Bound.
Blurb
Liam is bored with everyday life in Underhill, the home of the Fae. When you’ve lived as long as he has few things hold any excitement anymore. When a mortal woman stumbles into Underhill all of that changes. She captivates him like none have in ages. Now Liam will stop at nothing to find her and make the mortal his. How far will he go to get what he wants?
Hallie O’Neil thinks she has it all figured out. She has a great career, serious boyfriend, and perfect New York apartment. Everything changes when an Irish Adonis walks into her work one afternoon. As hard as Hallie tries to fight it, Liam insists on inserting himself into her life. There’s something different about Liam that Hallie can’t figure out. Can she discover the truth before she’s in too deep?
Excerpt
Faolin gave Hallie her own room while she was visiting his Uncle’s home. He didn’t want to presume too much. It wasn’t surprising though when she slipped into his room after the house quieted down. Hallie always had a way of lighting his fire. After months apart though her touch was like an inferno. He hated having to return to Underhill even for that short amount of time. Being away from her was torture.
All of Faolin’s attention was focused on Hallie that night. He lavished every affection on her. Faolin brought her to the brink of ecstasy over and over before they both tumbled over the edge together. Hallie lay in his arms afterward content and beautiful. Faolin brushed the stray hairs from her cheek enjoying the fleeting moment.
With a slight growl of frustration, Faolin eased out of bed. He pulled on his pants and went downstairs. His aunt and uncle would still be awake. He found them in the library by the fire enjoying a glass of wine. His aunt studied him a moment, however, it was his uncle who spoke.
“I’m glad to hear the mortal pleases you.” His uncle smiled half laughing.
Faolin knew it meant they heard at least part of their lovemaking. At the moment he didn’t care. “She pleases me more than any woman has in centuries, uncle.”
His uncle stopped smiling, and his aunt set down her wine. “Can it be true?” his aunt asked studying him.
“Faolin I forbid…” His uncle started.
“Don’t, I beg you. When is the last time I asked anything of you?” Faolin asked his uncle.
His uncle snarled, “At least 300 years.” He let out a heavy breath. “It’s too soon Faolin.”
“At least grant me permission to pursue it.” Faolin offered his hand.
“You know the rules.” His uncle warned.
“Better than anyone” his aunt volunteered.
His uncle took Faolin’s hand “Agreed. I Faolin of Underhill swear that I will abide by the rules while pursuing Hallie O'Neil.”
“Honor and Magic bind thee.” His uncle said formally. Faolin felt the magic sweep over him. There was no going back now.
Honor Boundis part of a paranormal romance anthology Moonlight Mist written by many talented independent authors. It is available on Amazon, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and other fine retailers.
I am a mother, pharmacist, and author. I love all things fantasy and science fiction. It should come as no surprise then when I say I write fantasy, science fiction, and paranormal romance. I've also tried my hand at horror once or twice. I enjoy watching anime and romance movies. Currently I am working my way through Naruto Shippuden. Summer is coming and school is ending which means I'll spend more time at home with my kids than at work thanks to PTO. If you read my bios or my blog I'll keep you posted on our travels. If you want to find out more about me check out my website, or you can find my books on my store.
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