Sunday, August 10, 2025
Fairies Symbolize the Mystical Unknown
Sunday, February 2, 2025
Book Sunday #stories4you from #OurAuthorGang
Today we recommend
A YA adventure by Lorraine Carey
Dean Banks returns in Out of
the Ashes, the thrilling sequel to Mysteries of the Red
Coyote Inn. This Young Adult Paranormal Novel takes readers deeper
into the heart of danger and mystery.
The stakes at Red Coyote Inn have
never been higher. Strange events spiral out of control as Dean shoulders a
monumental mission: protecting the fabled Lost Dutchman Mine and its sacred
grounds from ruthless thieves, treacherous allies, and shadowy government
experiments. As if that weren’t enough, his girlfriend’s mysterious illness
pulls at his heart and resolve.
But Dean’s journey isn’t just
physical—it’s spiritual. To uncover the truth and save everything he holds
dear, he must embark on a perilous Vision Quest, where the answers he seeks
could either empower him… or destroy him.
Will Dean rise from the ashes, or
will the weight of the unknown bury him? The adventure awaits.
Read a sample chapter from the book:
Chapter 7: A Dark Discovery
Dean followed the hawk deeper into the cave and flicked on
his flashlight. He could still smell the lingering stench of the Gila. As he
shined his flashlight along the walls of the cave, he could see deep grooves
where a gold vein had been extracted. Faint luminous glows were emitted from
the walls, and the ground had some fragments that had been left behind. He
picked up one of them; never having seen this type of gold before. It had a
whitish cast to it and set off a weird neon glow. He stuck a piece of it in his
pocket and carried on the path with his hawk buddy flying ahead, signaling him
to move on.
Dean entered another tunnel and walked for about half a
mile. He felt overheated, so decided to sit down and drink some water. “Ah, I
needed that!” His friend circled up ahead as if waiting for him and also added
protection. Dean held his talisman in his hands as he felt it vibrate. He
sensed he was getting a message from spirit as he was in for an unexpected
encounter.
As he followed the hawk, he found himself at a dead end with
a strange doorway off to the left. It was a large iron door, medieval-style
with heavy black bars and laden with black iron bolts.
“Okay, now what? I’m supposed to know some magic words to
open them?”
He noticed the hawk circle his head three times and with a
whoosh, it was gone. Dean sat down to make some sense out of this. Let me think, I‘ve been cornered by a giant
Gila, am aware of pillaging for gold, and have not shifted? What gives, Elders?
He sensed a cool breeze coming from behind him. He turned
around and noticed a white glowing apparition, one that he was all too familiar
with.
Soon the lady in white materialized. He knew who she was –
Aponi, dressed in her usual white flowing dress, the sheer veil covering her
face. The breeze again caused the beads and shells that dangled from her dress
to clink and tingle, like windchimes.
“Hello, Dean,” she murmured. “I’ve come to warn you that
evil is upon you. I’m sure you’ve sensed that yourself. Be on guard, for you
will find your enemies are very close
now. Remember, all is not what it
seems.” Her image faded and then vanished.
“Wait! Don’t go!” Dean called out, but it was too late.
Dean stood up and felt his body overheating again. He could
feel the blood course through his veins, making them bulge. He watched the ones
in his arms become so defined he resembled the transparent human body models
they used in his science class. Soon he could see the muscles in his arms
triple in size as they inflated and ripped through his t-shirt. “What the heck?
Now I’m the Hulk!”
Soon his head was overcome with great knowledge. The
imprinted mark on his chest burned red, and he was filled with the desire to
bust through the iron doors.
With two tries, he managed to rip a gaping hole in the iron
door large enough to crawl through. As he reached the other side, he was
shocked at what he saw. There were vaults built into the side of the walls with
plaques labeled with hieroglyphics that he didn’t understand. In the middle of
the room was what looked to be a medical operating table, hooked up to an IV
machine with bags of fluid in them. Behind it were more medical equipment and a
few computers that were shut down. As he stood there for a moment, he could
feel his heart race and his back start to throb. I’m going to shift again soon. I’ve got to hurry and finish exploring
this room. As bad as he felt, he walked over to the corner of the room
where he found glass vials labeled ‘atomic gold’. They were stacked neatly in
steel crates. Some vials were as small as test tubes; others were as big as
beakers. He remembered seeing this in his chemistry class. He placed one of the
smaller vials in his pocket. What on
earth is going on here?
Soon Dean felt the rush of blood to his head. He became very dizzy and fell to the floor. He could feel the strange electrical field surrounding his body. It crackled and smelled of burning wires. His body shook and he could feel his legs elongate and the skin stretch out as each toe was peeled back to release a giant talon. His back split open as if someone had slit him with a knife from his neck to his waist. Huge wings jutted out and he could see their size was double than they had been before. A loud screeching was all that was heard from the cave before Dean flew out, into the dark Arizona sky.
Lorraine Carey
https://authorlorrainecarey.blogspot.com/
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.
Sunday, January 19, 2025
Book Sunday #OurAuthorGang
Today's recommendation is a YA novel by Lorraine Carey
Jonathan's Locket
Dive into a thrilling blend of history,
mystery, and the supernatural in this captivating Young Adult novel. Set
against the backdrop of the historic Wreck of the Ten Sails off Grand Cayman,
author Carey masterfully weaves fantasy, suspense, and paranormal intrigue into
a story that will keep readers hooked.
When a local teen discovers they can connect
with Jonathan, a restless spirit lost in the infamous shipwreck, an
extraordinary journey begins. Bound by courage and compassion, the teen must
navigate a world of hidden dangers and otherworldly challenges to help Jonathan
find peace and finally cross over.
This award-winning novel, which earned the
Readers' Favorite Silver Award in 2014 and was a finalist in the Wind Dancer
Film Contest, is a must-read for fans of historical fiction with a supernatural
twist. Prepare for an unforgettable adventure where history comes alive in the
most unexpected ways!
Chapter
5
The Wreck
All were on deck now, and orders
were being given from all directions. It was a moonless night and the sea was
as black as pitch. The sound of the waves thrashing against the ship rose above
the yelling of the crew on the Convert.
It was now the wee hours of the
morning, on February 8, 1794. Instead of the crew getting a good night’s rest,
their distress gun was fired.
Captain Lawford came bounding out of his quarters. Dressed in only his
trousers, he raced barefoot onto the top deck.
“What in land’s end is happening
here? I heard the distress gunfire!” he cried.
“Aye, Captain, there be breakers
ahead!” shouted Seaman Thompson from up in the crow’s nest. “The fleet is
getting ahead of us now. They are all firing off their distress guns.”
Lawford grabbed the telescope from
the seaman standing next to him.
“Damn, this can’t be the Grand
Cayman reef! I thought we passed that an hour ago. I charted this course myself
so that we would avoid that bloody coral reef!”
He shouted orders for all of the
men to report on the deck. Before any of the men had time to react, a voice
alerted them to a whole new danger.
“Pirates - there be Pirates!”
shouted men from the Britannia, which was close on their starboard side. All of
the ships began to move closer, trying to protect the Convert.
The crew aboard the Convert
flashed their lanterns. All they could see were ships clustered together...too
close together.
They heard the sounds of the crash
before they saw it. Splintering wood and screams of terror echoed over the
water. It was as if the reef had sliced right through the ships, like an axe
slicing through wood.
“Take cover, men!” shouted Captain
Lawford, just before the Britannia rammed into the Convert.
When the ships collided, it hit
the Convert hard into the windward reef. The ship began to lean on its’ side,
ready to split.
The remaining ships crashed into
one another in an endless pileup. The deafening sound of screams mingled with
bodies splashing into the water. Many of the seamen were now jumping into the
water, clinging onto pieces of the ship that floated nearby.
“It is Poseidon coming to take us
to our watery graves!” shouted one of the men in the water.
Despite the chaos, Captain Lawford
still shouted out orders. They were largely ignored, since every man was out to
save himself – all but one, of course. There was one seaman who had to save his
dearest friend.
*****
Dear God, please let me get
down to Jonathan in time.
Peter did his best to hold onto anything he could to make his way down to the
hold. The ship’s hull had been hit hard and would be soon flooding with water.
Peter threw open the cargo door and raced down the steps. He was already knee-deep
in murky water. The trunks were swishing around, banging into one another.
“Jonathan! Jonathan, I’m coming!” Peter yelled, as he sloshed through the
water. Jonathan popped the lid of his trunk open and began yelling for Peter.
“Peter, what is happening?”
“We have hit the reef on Grand Cayman, Jonathan. All of the other ships have
slammed into each other. We are all going down. You’ve got to get out of that
trunk - now!”
“No, no...I’m afraid!” cried
Jonathan. “I can’t swim!”
“It doesn’t matter now, my son.
Just hang onto me and we’ll grab a hold of whatever we can find until we are
rescued.”
As Jonathan tried to sit up, the
chain of his locket got caught in the latch of the lid. He desperately tried to
untangle it, but it had formed a small knot that refused to come undone.
Peter was still holding onto the
trunk when a huge gush of water came and swept him away. He had been pulled
down through the hold. Jonathan couldn’t see exactly where he was, but there
was a small crack that he could see out of.
“Peter! Peter, where are you?”
Jonathan prayed that Peter had
been able to swim to safety. His trunk had begun to slam into all of the other
trunks; he could feel water dripping onto his face. Jonathan pulled and pulled
at the knot in the chain, but nothing worked. The more he pulled at the chain,
the tighter it pulled around his throat.
Jonathan’s body trembled, as he
closed his eyes one last time.
I know I will be with
you, mother. Please look after me.
*****
As water overtook Jonathan’s small
body, his trunk was pulled through a gaping hole in the ship. His trunk landed
at the bottom of the sea, nestled underneath a large crevasse deep under the
reef.
A large sea turtle who happened to
be in the area circled the chest. It seemed to take on an iridescent green glow
that lit up the waters with its shimmering light.
Chapter
6
Grand Cayman 2012
“Mrs. Wallace, this is Mrs. Banks,
deputy principal at Island High School. Your son, Brandon, did not show up at
school today.”
Mrs. Wallace paused a moment
before answering. She knew exactly where her son was. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Banks, I
believe I know where he is. I will call his father right now.”
“Brandon has already missed nine
unexcused days this year,” scolded Mrs. Banks. “With his grades, he cannot
afford to be missing so much school. Please bring him in tomorrow, along with
your husband so that we can discuss the matter.”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered Mrs.
Wallace, in a solemn voice.
Mrs. Wallace was already at work
at Island Gems Jewelry and was not prepared to start her day in such a way.
As soon as Mrs. Wallace hung up
the phone, she dialed her husband’s work number. She dreaded telling him the
news.
“Franklin, Brandon skipped school
again.”
“Damn that boy!” Mr. Wallace
shouted in reply. “I can’t leave the port right now.” Mr. Wallace had gotten a
promotion to supervisor at the port a few years ago and spent most of his time
at work or on call when he was at home. This is about the time Brandon began to
have some behavior issues.
“You know where he is, Franklin.”
I will talk to him tonight,”
confirmed Mr. Wallace.
“We need to do more than just
talk,” she said.
“He’s a seventeen-year-old boy. He
needs to get his act together. Trust me, Jenna, when I am done with him, he
will know that I mean business!” said Mr. Wallace, angrily.
*****
“Hey, Jason, did you see that
spotted eel?” Brandon asked, excitedly, as they emerged from the sea.
“He must have been at least six
feet long!” Jason answered.
They sat at the edge of the shore
and removed their snorkeling gear. The early morning sun shone down and
illuminated the crystal blue water. Brandon shook his head of dark wet curls,
like a dog shaking out his wet fur. Jason on the other hand, was busy pulling
back his sandy blonde hair into a printed scarf.
“I can’t wait to get these
pictures up on the computer and check them out,” Brandon said. “Want to come up
to the house?”
“I’d better not. I should get home
and clean up before my folks find out I skipped school with you.”
“Suit yourself,” Brandon said as
he walked away. He shook his head, knowing that Jason wouldn’t get into trouble
if he got caught. He wished his parents were as lenient as Jason’s.
*****
Brandon walked along the shore
toward home. He gazed out at the turquoise waters, feeling the breeze on his
face. As he kicked his toes through the white powdery sand and watched the
palms swaying back and forth, he thought of his childhood. Brandon and his dad
would go fishing and diving almost every weekend. That changed a few years ago
when his dad had gotten the promotion. Brandon yearned for those days and hoped
his dad would come around again. When he thought of those days, he knew that
the sea was his heaven.
As he reached home he sat on the
back deck of the large cottage and tried to take it all in. He was grateful to
live right on the beach where he could have the sea right there under his nose.
All of a sudden, Pirate, the
family’s five-year-old Labrador Retriever came bounding out and began licking
the salt water off his face.
Brandon knew he had to get out of
his gear fast and clean up before his parents got home or he’d have hell to
pay.
Lorraine Carey
https://authorlorrainecarey.blogspot.com/
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.
Sunday, December 22, 2024
Book Sunday
Legends of the mountains
During my many hikes into the Superstition
Mountains, I’ve always felt there was some otherworldly presence there as well
as my husband had.
It wasn’t until I worked on the Sacaton
Reservation for a year that I was fortunate to hear many of the legends that
came out of the area from a few of the parents.
There is a reason they are called the
Superstition Mountains, with all of the stories that have emerged from this
mystical mountain range in Apache Junction, Arizona. Tales include a secret
underground government lab, shapeshifters, alien crafts that come out of the
ridge, Geronimo appearing and then disappearing into the mountain, and, of
course, the famous Jacob Waltz Gold Mine.
Many explorers were said to have mysteriously
vanished when they had intentions of finding the gold.
I bring many of these legends to life in the novel.
Mysteries of the Red Coyote Inn
This award-winning Young Adult
Supernatural Tale can be enjoyed by all ages!
The Red Coyote Inn may look like a charming
desert getaway, but its history tells a different story: ghostly encounters,
strange accidents, and whispers of supernatural creatures. Nestled along
Arizona’s Apache Trail near the mysterious Superstition Mountains—home to the
legendary Lost Dutchman Mine—the inn sits atop an energy vortex said to fuel
its eerie activity. The guests are almost as unusual as the inn itself, but
none are prepared for what lies beneath its enigmatic facade.
For 15-year-old Dean Banks, inheriting the
Red Coyote Inn with his family isn’t just strange—it’s life-changing. Dean
discovers he’s the heir to an ancient Apache gift of supernatural power, chosen
to guard the mine’s secrets from those who seek its riches. But this gift feels
more like a curse as Dean wrestles with newfound abilities, from superhuman
strength to mystical defenses, all while grappling with the fear of hurting
someone he loves.
Dean
talks with Robert, the old miner~ (an
excerpt)
As Dean rode
into the desert, he noticed his senses were in high gear. He could see, hear,
and feel everything with extreme acuteness. He could smell the dirt and feel
the air around him. He was able to pick up the energies of the desert creatures
and communicate with them. He felt as though he was one with the land. As he
pulled up to the entrance to the cave, he could see Robert’s old dirt bike
parked outside. Robert was sitting on a large rock with his old miner’s cap on.
“Sorry I’m so
late,” Dean said. “We had some trouble at the inn again.”
“It is what it is,” Robert said. “Your grandpa and I had
many talks like this.”
Dean sat speechless for a moment, then stood
up and faced Robert with amazement.
“You knew
Grandpa!” he wailed. “I just had the feeling there was something there.”
“Yes, Dean, we
were good friends for many years.”
“Then you must
know about all the trouble he had at the Red Coyote,” Dean said.
“I know more
about you and your grandpa than probably anyone else.”
Dean was all
ears as Robert began to reveal some amazing details.
“See that
talisman pendant around your neck? That goes way back to the beginning of one
of the local Apache tribes,” he said. “It was given to your grandpa when he was
born. It’s a protection amulet said to be infused with great powers, and that
thunderbird is a very powerful figure.”
Dean held the
pendant in his hand as his mind raced back to the many times it had saved him
from danger.
Dean turned to
Robert and pleaded for some answers. “Robert, please, I need your help. I think
you have some answers for me.”
“Okay, boy, here
we go,” Robert said. “Your grandpa was hoping he would make it until your
sixteenth birthday, but it was his time to go. He wanted to be the one to tell
you the truth.”
Dean’s blood ran
cold – quite a change from his usual hot surges. His face went pale, and his
stomach churned. “Please, Robert, I can’t take it,” he said, standing and
raising his hands in the air. “Let me know what on earth is happening to me!”
“Exactly, my
boy,” the old miner said, ‘on earth’ is quite a good choice of words for your
current situation. It’s the ancient secrets that lie right below us... they are
the cause of everything you’ve been going through. I feel very privileged to
give you some of the answers you’ve been waiting for – however, I can’t tell
you everything right now. I’ve got some fresh iced tea in these canteens. Let’s
have a tea party, so to speak,” he chuckled. “Usually, this occasion would call
for some hard liquor, but I swore off the stuff years ago.”
“Tell me, why is
everyone waiting for my birthday?” Dean asked.
“That’s the time
when the gift is to be acknowledged,” he said. “That will be a ‘rite of
passage’ – the Apache blood is on your mom’s side. Your Grandpa Powell’s
great-great-grandma was Yolanda Peralta, and you, my boy, were born to be the
‘Chosen One’, or the ‘Gate Keeper’ of the gold here in this mountain.”
“So, my mom does
know about all this history?” Dean asked.
“Yes, she does,”
said Robert in a solemn voice. “Your sister doesn’t know any of it, though.
Your mom thought she was too young to understand.”
“And my
father?”.
“Well, that’s
another story,” Robert said. “You’ll need to confront your mother on that one.”
“Is that why I
had the vision of the ‘red coyote’?”
“Now you know
that story, don’t you, Dean? Remember the last time we talked, I told you how
Yolanda and Juha would start a bloodline of offspring who would produce a
special boy in the future?”
“Juha was a
great warrior back in the 1800s,” he said. “He had the powers to shape-shift,
heal, and speak with the gods. He and Yolanda belonged to the Chiricahua tribe,
which was very powerful at that time.”
Dean sat there,
mesmerized by Robert’s words.
“When the Elders
spoke to Juha and Yolanda, they were told one of their descendants would be the
one many were waiting for, but it might take many moons for this to come to
pass. This is no ordinary gold mine, Dean. I told you already that it was
discovered in 1140 AD by the Salado Indians and was blessed by a high priest
from the tribe.
“The vein is
supposed to run from Weaver’s Needle out through the mountains and under the
ground for miles,” he continued. “Gold seekers as far back as the Spanish
conquistador Francisco Vasquez de Coronado and his men came through here
searching for the Seven Cities of Gold.”
“I remember
studying about that in my history class,” Dean added.
“Legend says
some of his men were found beheaded,” Robert said. “Only a hundred of his men
survived the trip. He then went back to Mexico on what is now known as the
Santa Fe Trail.”
“Beheaded!” Dean
cried; his eyes as big as saucers.
“So, you can
see, there’s something here that is way beyond our control,” Robert confessed. “Do
your research on this area, and you’ll find that many have gone in search of
the gold, but few have returned to tell their stories.”
“Does it have
something to do with that vortex?” Dean asked.
“Well, let’s say
that has quite a lot to do with it,” Robert replied.
“So, it’s like
the Bermuda Triangle?” Dean asked. He thought this would possibly explain all
the electrical trouble at the inn. Now, this is making some sense.
“You’ll learn so
much more as you gain more understanding of your powers.”
“Some very weird
things have been happening to me already,” Dean said. “It kind of all began
when we left Apple Valley, and I thought I saw the face of an Indian warrior in
my window.”
“That was
probably a vision of Juha, Dean. He has always been with you.”
“I also have
dreams about a hawk flying at night, and I wake up feeling as if I were the
hawk,” Dean said, with alarm in his voice. “I’ve seen the ‘red coyote’, and I
was mysteriously led to the real Lost Dutchman Mine!”
“You’ll see
things more clearly in time,” Robert said.
“Why does
someone have to be the ‘Guardian’ of the mine?” Dean asked.
“Okay, let me
tell you what I know. Many eons ago, when the Salado Tribe was here, they
discovered the gold vein and became aware of the spiritual powers it possessed.
They knew the mine was the power source of life and, thus -sacred ground. That
is why the ‘Great Spirit’ entrusted them to protect that power source from ever
being disturbed. That’s why it was blessed by one of their priests,” he
explained. “You have many powers, Dean, ones you are just becoming aware of,
just as Juha did. Your powers will be revealed to you as time goes on.”
Lorraine Carey
https://authorlorrainecarey.blogspot.com/
Lorraine Carey is not only a paranormal enthusiast but has had many unexplained events in her lifetime and has used these as a focal point in her fiction novels. As a veteran teacher, Lorraine began to write for Young Adults hoping to inspire young readers. Now residing in Florida, since retirement has given her more time to write when the spirits are willing.
Monday, December 9, 2024
Eye of the Jaguar
A story from the What If? Anthology
Martina Crestada focused her binoculars and looked down into
the cenote, one of the sinkholes riddling the karst landscape of the Yucatan
peninsula. The building storm clouds scuttled across the face of the moon
making it flicker like a guttering candle.
“Philip, hold the flashlight still, this one isn’t filled
with water and there’s a carved altar stone in the center.”
He balanced his flashlight on the cenote’s rim to steady it.
Philip lived to make Martina happy. While he’d become fascinated with
Mesoamerican history and lore, his love of Martina was the primary reason he’d
majored in Mayan culture and the only reason he’d joined this archeological
expedition.
“Martina, we’d best hurry, the clouds are building. I smell
rain and we’re an hour from camp. It’s dangerous at night. Ocelots, jaguars,
and wolves, oh my!”
Martina pointed her flashlight upward from under her chin
ensuring Philip could see her look of disgust. “Don’t be a crybaby. I see an
altar stone on the bottom. There’s writing, but I can’t read it. Red veins.
Could be iron oxide. Maybe blood. How exciting! Philip, I hope they’re
bloodstains!”
“I’ll record the GPS reading and tell the guide we’re ready
to leave. We’ll come back tomorrow.”
The guide screamed. He
pointed at a jaguar skulking quietly as a gentle breeze and shouted “B’alam! B’alam!” The beast moved nearer
the explorers and pinned them against the pit’s edge. Philip was unarmed, he
had a flashlight, a pocketknife, and a pith helmet like the explorers wear in a
Tarzan movie.
The jaguar's eyes glowed like red coals. Philip froze in
place. The cat charged without warning and Philip threw his helmet like a flying
disk and hit the jaguar in the shoulder. He shoved Martina to one side and
stepped backward away from the leaping cat. He struggled futilely for purchase
on the crumbling pit edge. He fell into the cenote and the jaguar flew over his
head and into the pit with him. They both screamed all the way down.
Philip woke up on the decayed leaves that dotted the altar
stone. He felt his left arm. Shit,
broken. Dark down here. Where’s my
damn flashlight?”
Martina shouted, “Philip!”
“I’m alive. Broken, but alive.”
“I’ll send the guide for help.”
“Have them bring a harness. Pretty sure my arm is broken. I
can’t climb out. The air is stale, and it stinks of rotten fruit.”
“Is the jaguar, or should I say, the B’alam, dead? We can
practice speaking Mayan until help comes.”
Philip found his flashlight. The jaguar draped the altar
stone like a praying supplicant. Chiseled images of cats, snakes, and wolves
appeared and vanished with the sweeping of the flashlight’s beam. Philip crept
slowly to the jaguar and gently touched its throat seeking a pulse.
The creature opened its eyes, snarled, and bit Philip’s arm.
He tried to jerk away and cursed. “Christ, damn thing bit me. Probably has
rabies!” He searched the altar with his free hand, the one attached to a broken
arm. He caught a brief vision of an obsidian knife stored in a cubbyhole. He
gritted his teeth against the pain, stretched for the knife, and stabbed the
jaguar in the neck. The creature released his arm. He wiggled the knife until
the glow in the beast’s eyes faded to darkness. Their blood mingled and flowed
into the red-stained cracks atop the limestone altar. The stench of rotted
fruit grew overpowering. Philip couldn’t breathe, he gasped, staggered back
from the altar, his head spun, and he passed out.
The pain from the jaguar bite or his broken arm woke him. Flickering
torchlight and rancid smoke filled the cenote. Several men, costumed in ancient
Mayan ceremonial regalia, filled the cavern. He shouted for Martina. She didn’t
answer, but above him, the pit’s edge was lined with women and children.
The quiet was frightening. It was like the silent moment in a horror film before all hell breaks loose. Philip remembered from a class on negotiation that the person who speaks first, loses. He couldn’t stand it. The people just stared at him.
Read the full 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.
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
Mythology and Folklore: Part 4
The Legend of the White Stag
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