Thursday, May 9, 2019

Caesar And The Bluebells by Cindy J. Smith

Caesar And The Bluebells

Caesar lives on a farm with his owner, Lori. Caesar is a retriever who loves playing in the field of bluebells while protecting the farm. Lori puts two gnomes in her garden for decoration. Caesar thinks something is not right about them. The next May when Lori and Caesar visit their bluebell field, it is destroyed. The fairies are worried. Their queen is missing! Caesar knows the gnomes are involved. Can Caesar find the Queen and fix the mess?


A friend from high school wanted a story about her dog and her bluebell field. I explained to her that I just write poetry and the project was beyond my abilities.

The voices do not like it when I say I am unable to write things.  Despite having absolutely no idea how to connect a dog and a bluebell field, Oscar and the Bluebells, was fully developed within a week. 

Unfortunately, my friend wanted to change everything.  Heartbroken to think it was so terrible it needed to be rewritten by someone else, I took it back.  I changed the name of the dog, the owner and the location of the field. Then I forgot all about it being on my computer. 

Several years later, I was "organizing" my laptop and gathering all my poems written in various documents into one file.  When I came upon it, I decided to ask a fellow author what she thought of the story.  I was surprised to find she loved it and in fact had started coming up with illustrations for it!

The initial version was published by Erika M. Szabo at Golden Box Books with her illustrations.



I decided I would write another story and that I wanted to have the illustrations more lifelike.  I hired Daniela Frongia of Cais Arts to redo my book. This is the version currently available. 


SNIPPET:

I am an old retriever named Caesar
Lori Simpleton is my owner
We live in Ohio on a farm
It is my job to keep all from harm

When not working, I run, hunt and play
My favorite time is early May
'Cause that is when the sweet bluebells bloom
Delicate end to Winter's deep gloom

I am very lucky, for you see
Lori has a field of them for me
When we're there I jump and roll around
Then cool off in mud puddles I've found

I chase bunnies and beavers I track
For following trails I have a knack
My owner just laughs with such delight
When the turkeys and pheasants take flight

She enjoys the pretty flowers there
Takes pictures of beauty everywhere
But, she can't see the tiny fairies
Lori thinks they're just large bumblebees!

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REVIEWS:

"When the world suddenly loses its charming bluebells, Caesar comes to the rescue. Written with a light rhyme scheme, Caesar and the Bluebells is a wonderful tale of a dog who solves the mystery by snooping on the yard gnomes. My grade school grandkids love this story!" WhittyOne


"Terrific for boys and girls alike!! A truly beautiful book!

I absolutely loved this book! The story is wonderful, mysterious and fun! The illustrations are beautiful and go along perfectly with the story!! This is definitely a must have for your child, niece, nephew or friend's child...I am purchasing one for my great nephew and my best friend's granddaughter!!

This book was given to me for my honest opinion! So thank you for that...it was refreshing and a true pleasure to read as well as review! " Kim Page


"This unique and wonderful children's book is full of life and poetry that's perfect for apparent to share with their child. The adventure Caesar goes on to help the fairies and deal with the gnomes is delightful from start to finish. If you have a young one at home, like I do, this book is the ideal bedtime reading that you all can bond over."  Jeremy Croston



Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Folk Art

Hungarian folk art


When people mention Hungarian folk art they talk about it as if it were a unified whole, but the designs carry many different motifs and meanings depending on the region they originate from. The Palóc people in north-eastern Hungary prepared simple hand-woven fabrics, while the women of Sárköz were famous for their refined weaving techniques. It is easy to distinguish between the colorful embroideries made in Kalocsa and the Matyó motifs made in the area around Mezökövesd, where mainly blue and red threads were used in designs made before the middle of the 19th century.
Enjoy some of the beautiful designs.
Matyó
Kalocsa
Sárköz

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Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Palace of the Twelve Pillars



Palace of the Twelve Pillars

Christina Weigand




Excerpt


The High Wisdom raised the crown from its golden case. A loud scream tore the silence in the tent. Joachim turned to look at the entrance. A soldier fell through the opening, blood spurting from a slit stretched across his throat.
As he bounded off the dais, Waldrom screamed, “What’s going on here?”
A wild rush of wind ripped the tent flaps open, and a horse and rider burst through. Joachim gaped at the body of the dead soldier. His heart raced and leapt to his throat. His gaze traveled up the horse’s legs. A man’s black boots. A scream caught in his throat, and tears filled his eyes. He stared into blue eyes.
The horse pawed the ground and snorted. The rider dismounted and stood next to the dead guard.
Wriggling free of Waldrom, Lilia ran to the rider. She threw her arms around him. “Brandan, you’re here. You’ve come to free us.”
The prince pushed her aside. “Brother, I see you are trying to usurp me again. It appears I got here just in time.”
“No, you’re wrong. I have no desire to take anything rightfully belonging to you.” Joachim stepped toward his brother and reached out a hand to him. “I want to help you and see what we can accomplish together.”
Swatting his hand away, Brandan laughed. “Help me? You’re the one who needs help. Anything you have to offer is worthless to me. Now out of my way. The king and I have business.”
“No, listen to me. You can’t do this.” Joachim spun him around.
 He clouted Joachim, knocking him down. “King Waldrom, we need to talk. He’s deceiving you.” He spat at Joachim then turned and bowed to Waldrom. “I’m at your service, My King.”
Regaining his feet, Joachim pushed Brandan into the guard standing behind him. The guard wrapped his muscular arms around Brandan. “What should I do with him, Sire?”
Brandan flipped the soldier to the ground and put his black booted foot on the man’s chest. “The one you should be detaining is standing there, you fool.” He pointed at Joachim.
“What are you doing?” Lilia grabbed Brandan by the arm. “Stop this, or Waldrom will imprison us all. Why are you jeopardizing our lives?”
He looked at his mother. “Don’t worry, Mother. The only one in any danger here is the traitor you see standing before of you. First, he betrays me, next he kills Father, and now he would betray you and Waldrom. Guards, seize him!”
The king stepped forward and raised his hands to stop the guards. “What do you mean a traitor, and how do you know this?”
“Because I know my brother, and that’s the way he thinks. He’ll lie, cheat, and kill to achieve his own ends, and his goal is to have both countries under his to rule at any cost.”
“Why should I trust you over him?”
“Because I’m just like you,” Brandan responded.
Walking around the twins, Waldrom rubbed his goatee thoughtfully. “My boy, you present an interesting dilemma. How do I choose one over the other? How do I know which one to believe? Guards seize both of them.” Two guards stepped forward, and each grabbed a twin.
 “You’re wrong.” Joachim struggled to break free. “This is wrong. I’m not a liar. I only want what’s best, and that’s for us to be together.”
 “You’re the one who’s wrong.” Brandan pulled his arm free. “I’ve no use for you.” He turned to Waldrom. “Get him out of here, so we can finish.”
Joachim broke loose, stepped across the gap and grasped his brother by the tunic. Brandan jerked around and punched him. He rubbed his jaw and shoved Brandan, who fell to the ground “What happened to you? You’re not the brother I know.”
Standing up, the black prince pulled his sword. “Nothing is wrong with me. I just realized who I am and who truly cares about me...and it’s not you.” He rested the point of the sword on the cut Waldrom had given Joachim. As Brandan pushed the tip in the scratch, he re-opened the partially scabbed wound. Joa laid his hand on the side of the sword and pushed it away. Guards grabbed Joachim’s arms.
“Enough! I can see you two will not make this easy. I put before you a challenge, which will determine my choice. You will travel to the Cave of Njori and extinguish the flame of Asha. Melvane will accompany you and testify to its completion.”
Brandan replaced his sword and walked over to his horse. “I don’t see the need for this. It’s obvious I am the one, but I’ll go along if that is what you want.” He remounted his horse and reined it around to exit.
Still in the grasp of the soldier, Joachim yelled, “No, Brandan, stop! You can’t do this. We can’t. It’s the light of Asha, never to be extinguished. If you do this, you’ll destroy all hope and any chance we have of defeating this evil.”
Brandan laughed and kicked his horse. “All the more reason to get this done quickly. Guards, find a mount for my brother.”
“No, I won’t go. I can’t do it.”
The king raised his hand. “The choice is made. Guards, take Joachim to the prison tent. Brandan, we will deal with this inconsequential flame later. Right now, we have more important business to attend to.”

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Monday, May 6, 2019

Why did I write – My Little Runaway?

Little Runaway


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.

http://www.rickhaynesauthor.com

Friday, May 3, 2019

May Day in Finland

Finland is a rather small country, with its 5.5 million inhabitants, and 75% of its territory covered by forests.
This small introduction is to say that Mayday, also in a small country like Finland, comes with plenty of celebrations, and it is mostly a day when people gather in the parks for the traditional picnic. It is a family and friends event, and it is the first holiday when the weather is likely to be fair after the long, dark, and cold winter.
What does it actually mean for Finnish people the Labor Day?
Labor Day or 'Vappu' is a holiday that incorporates the workers day, feast of the students that will graduate soon, and a sort of carnival to welcome spring. Now, hold your horses, when you hear the word carnival. Remember we are not in Rio, we are in little Finland, so also the parties are shaped accordingly.
A Finnish twist on the May Day celebrations, developed in the nineteenth century when engineering students would celebrate and party at midnight on the 30th of April while sporting their traditional white caps.


Therefore, nowadays celebrations start the 30th of April officially at 6 pm when the students will gather on the market square of Helsinki, climb to the statue of Havis Amanda washing it before putting the white cap on her head. This is the day when Helsinki is experiencing the full-scale event, and if you wish to check it out, don’t focus your attention only on the Mayday itself.

On the late morning on the 1st of May, students and graduates will then lead a march through Helsinki, ending in large open-air picnics in the parks across the city. Mead and doughnuts are traditional treats on this day.
Having experienced Mayday in a few European cities, I have to admit that the Finnish celebration is something unique, that incorporates much more than the workers day as it is meant internationally, giving the taste of a feast with many flavors, all meant to come together like the waves crashing on a rocky shore: fresh and intense.

Happy Mayday!





Thursday, May 2, 2019

Neutral Space by Rebecca Tran

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.

Buy Neutral Space today for an out of this world adventure. Amazon   Other Retailers




Excerpt:
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.









Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Mary Shelley

 Mary Shelley: Frankenstein


Christina Weigand


Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley was born to Mary Wollstonecraft and William Godwin on August 30, 1797 in Somers Town, London. Her mother, a feminist, philosopher, educator and writer died a month after Mary was born and her father, a philosopher, novelist and journalist was left to raise Mary and her half-sister Fanny Imlay. Mary’s mother left her a legacy of feminist ideas that were scandalous in the eighteenth century. Mary to some degree followed her mother’s teachings and actions throughout her own life.

Although William Godwin was almost always deeply in debt during Mary’s childhood he managed to provide his daughters with a rich, if informal, education encouraging her to adhere to his anarchist political theories. In December 1801, when Mary was four years old Godwin married a woman with two young children of her own. Mary quickly came to detest the woman as she felt as if the new wife favored her own children.

In June 1812 Godwin sent Mary to stay with a family in Scotland. Mary rejoiced in her spacious surroundings as well as the four daughters of her host. She returned to stay with the family for another 10 months the next summer where she credits the trees of the grounds and the bleak sides of the woodless mountains for giving birth to her airy flights of imagination.

Somewhere between 1813 and 1814 she met Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Percy was estranged from his wife and spent a great deal of time at the Godwin’s. Percy had agreed to bail Mary’s father out of debt. He had been alienated from his wealthy family for following the economic views which he had learned from Godwin’s Political Justice. Eventually Percy told Godwin that he could not pay of the debts.

Mary and Percy had begun meeting secretly at her mother’s grave and fell in love. She was nearly 17 and he nearly 22. On June 26 1814 they declared their love for each other. Unfortunately because of Percy’s not being able to pay Godwin’s debts, Godwin disapproved of the relationship. The couple proceeded to run away to France taking Mary’s stepsister with them.

The trio travelled by donkey, mule and carriage through war ravaged France into Switzerland. When they reached Lucerne, due to lack of money they were forced to turn back and arrived in Gravesend, Kent on September 13, 1814.

Sometime during their journey Mary became pregnant and penniless. Mary’s father refused to have anything to do with her. February 1815 she gave birth to a two months premature baby girl. After the death of her child she was haunted by nightmares and became severely depressed, but did conceive again by summer.

With an upturn in their finances the trio rented a cottage at Bishopsgate. In January 1816 she gave birth to her second child. In May of that same year the trio travelled to Geneva to spend the summer with Lord Byron, as they believed that Claire was pregnant with Lord Byron’s child.

It is on this trip that the challenge of writing a ghost story was presented and Frankenstein was born. It started out as a short story, but Percy encouraged her to expand it into her first novel: Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus


Once they returned to England, they got word that both Mary’s half sister Fanny and Percy’s wife committed suicide. In an effort to gain custody of Percy’s children by his first wife, Mary and Percy finally wed. Unfortunately they did not get custody of the children. In January Claire gave birth to a girl and in September Mary gave birth to a girl. Summer of 1817 Mary finished Frankenstein and in 1818 it was published anonymously and everyone assumed that Percy had written it since he was known to have contributed to it and wrote the preface to the first edition. Differences were discovered in the two later editions that in some people’s minds supported this claim.

Living in fear of debtors and losing their children, the Shelly’s moved to Italy in March 1818.

Mary lost both of her children, her daughter in 1818 and her son in 1819. She spiraled into a deep depression and isolated herself from Percy. Her only comfort was her writing and the birth of her fourth child in late 1819.

The Percy’s celebrated political freedoms that were unattainable in England. While here she experienced a great time of creative activity writing the novels Matilda, and Valperga, along with the plays Proserpine and Midas.





In summer of 1822 a pregnant Mary moved to an isolated villa on the edge of the Bay of Lerici. She lost her baby and almost her life when she miscarried. Percy and Mary’s relationship was strained and he spent time with other women or sailing in the bay. Percy was killed in a sailing accident on July 8.

For the rest of her life Mary returned to England and resolved to live by her pen and for her only remaining son. For a short time she lived with her father and step-mother until her father-in-law agreed to a small stipend for her son.
She continued to write, editing the poems of Lord Byron and Percy. In 1824 she wrote The Last Man and assisted friends in writing memoirs of Byron and Percy.


Between 1827—40 she wrote the novels: The Fortunes of Perkin Warbeck, Lodore, and Falkner. 





She contributed to five volumes about Spanish, Portuguese and French authors as well as writing stories for woman’s magazines and helping to support her father’s publishing endeavors. She sold the copywright to a new addition of Frankenstein. She attempted to assemble her father’s letters and memoir, but after two years of work abandoned the project.
In 1837 a publisher proposed publishing a collected works of Percy Shelley and Mary edited it. Her father-in-law insisted that there be no biography of Percy so Mary found a way to tell the story of his life with extensive biographical notes about the poems.
Other men came and left her life, but she never remarried as her first concern was her son. In 1840 and 1842 mother and son travelled together on the continent and Mary recorded their journeys in Rambles in Germany and Italy in 1840, 1842 and 1843.



When her father-in-law died in 1844 she and her son were finally financially independent. In 1848 her son married and she continued to live with him and his wife for the rest of her life. On February 1, 1851 she died from a brain tumor


Photos and Biography Courtesy of:


Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Shelley

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Wollstonecraft-Shelley/e/B00JLNLC7C?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_3&qid=1556671367&sr=1-3





Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Mary, the Number Fairy

Picture book for children 2-6
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
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Friday, April 26, 2019

Animals in Folklore Part 1

Rebecca Tran

Wolves in Norse Mythology


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.

Thursday, April 25, 2019

Out of the Ashes; Lorraine Carey

Out of the Ashes

Lorraine Carey


Arizona Teen Becomes a Super Hero in Order to Save his Family and the Legendary Superstition Mountains
~ Lorraine Carey

Out of the Ashes is a chilling paranormal tale and the sequel to Mysteries of the Red Coyote Inn. It can also be read as a stand-alone book. I wrote this story to inspire teens and young adults but it is  suitable for all ages.

Dean Banks is back and this time he is fighting an enemy, which must be destroyed in order to save the legendary Lost Dutchman Mine in Arizona and the sacred grounds in the Superstition Mountains from a powerful force, only he can overtake. Being summoned as the ‘Chosen One’ by the Apache gods to guard and protect the land was not how he intended to spend the rest of his days. He’s amped up with more superpowers and knowledge from the elders and guides that will prepare him for an unbelievable journey that may just be under his very own nose. Journey with Dean as he battles evil and is reunited with a lost love. Put on your seat belts! This novel is a Wild Ride, full of ghosts, ancient spirit warriors, shape shifters, magic and an unexpected twist of spiritual awakening for Dean and its readers.

~ Excerpt~
Dean Discovers the Mysterious Cave~
Dean glanced at his arms, which were about twice their normal size. This was a very different physical occurrence to when he shifted into his usual hawk form. He grabbed his talisman and gave another look at the large iron doors. He listened to voices and chanting going on behind them, and it only made his desire to burst through them more intense. What’s going on in there? The next minute he attempted to punch a hole through the door. He left a huge dent. He punched it again, creating a gaping hole and was able to walk into the room. He looked around and could sense whoever was in there was hiding, the familiar smell of the same reptile still lingered. Dean rubbed his eyes and tried to let his vision clear as his body cooled down. He looked at his arms and legs noticing they were almost back to their normal size.
Once his vision cleared, he noticed he was in the same room— the one with the operating table, medical vials and equipment with IVs hooked up to the operating table—fluid still inside the bags. Whoever was in here isn’t far away.
He walked over to the table and could see fresh blood and hypodermic needles displayed on a steel cart next to it. Gross! He walked over to the huge stone vaults in the walls that were covered in the weird hieroglyphics. He ran his hand over them and sensed a strong vibration ripple from his fingertips to his shoulder.
 I wonder if these vaults lead to a secret passage? He was feeling lightheaded so he decided to sit down and try to take it all in. Dear God, don’t let me pass out in here!
He saw a faint glow coming from the back of the room, and it had his attention. The glow became more defined, and Dean could see it taking on the shape of the thunderbird. It glowed so vibrant, it almost blinded him. He tried to get up but wasn’t able to move. It was similar to the same force he had experienced in the cave when he’d had his vision quest. The next thing Dean heard was a voice calling his name.
“ Dean, you’re in the presence of evil forces. This is one that has been out there for many centuries. Keep your eyes wide open and know that you have the power from the ancients that are with you.”
“But Grandpa... wait! I need—”
As the voice of his grandpa disappeared, so did the thunderbird. Dean was able to sit up and finally get his balance. He could see the liquid in the gold vials glowing, so he examined one of the specimens. “I’ll find out what this is. I’m sure it has an evil presence about it.”





Wednesday, April 24, 2019

The Pesky Rules #2 by Erika M Szabo

Oh, the joy of using the English language!

In March I shared my cheat-sheet about the Pesky Comma.

And in mid April an article about the Pesky Rules #1

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.
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