Friday, August 9, 2019

Hometown Memories Part 3.

 Falls and Creeks 

Terry F Conrow
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  From my viewpoint nothing is more majestic than the creations of Nature.  Whether a small cascade found along a hidden creek, or a well known falls like Chitenango Falls and Montour Falls, my connection is the same. 
Montour Falls by Terry F. Conrow

Chitenango Falls by Terry F. Conrow





















New York is home to many beautiful falls, most of which I actually had no idea existed.  Even these ones in my own hometown I had no knowledge of until I began this blog series.
Peggy Fly

Amanda Castilla
Jan Dainard
But, seeing them in these photos, I am still refreshed.

My attraction to water has been with me my entire life.  What is odd is that when I lived along the gulf coast in both Florida and Louisiana, my reaction was not the same.  I found going to the shore relaxing but not refreshing.  The music of the waves, watching the tide playing tag with the shore, was pleasant.  However I my soul did not seem to revitalize, my worries did not fade.  I am not certain if it was the water itself smelling like fish and leaving my skin feeling sticky and dirty or just the fact that the water was the temperature of a bath.  It just was not the same.

As a final show of beauty, I am sharing other falls from my home state.  I hope they refresh you as they do me.

Glendora Falls by Terry F. Conrow



Ithaca Taughannock Park by Heather Ratigan

Corbetts Glenn by Rogina Davis

Falls in Dansville taken by Austin Passamonte

Buttermilk Falls, Ithaca  by Heather Ratigan

Honeoye Falls by Jan Dainard


Austin Passamonte

Wolcott Falls by Terry F. Conrow



Aunt Sarah's Falls by Terry F. Conrow
Akron Falls by Terry F. Conrow

Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Re-blogged by Erika M Szabo: The Warning Signs of Vanity Publishers

Wolves in sheep's clothing


I wrote this article on my website in February and I hope author and especially aspiring authors will benefit from reading about the warning signs.

Re-blogged:
"Vanity publishers contact me, and I assume they contact as many authors they can find, from time to time either on my website or on the phone (which supposedly hidden on social sites, but I guess made accessible to those who pay for the list)

​They hire great salespeople, I have to give them that!

I had a message and a pleasant female voice stated that she read my book, loved it and would like to offer a publishing contract. Not knowing where she was calling from I called her back.
"Which book did you like?" I asked.
I heard papers shuffling and keyboard clicking and then she said, "The Ancestors' Secrets trilogy."
"What did you like about the series?"
"Uhm… I really like the story and I'd like to publish it for you. It has great potentials and you will make a large profit after we publish and market your book."

It was obvious she knew nothing about my books and was trying to find a naïve and willing pigeon to make a large profit.

Lately, since self-published or first time publishing authors are more aware of the pitfalls of vanity publishers, they often pose as a traditional publisher.

When asked, they vehemently deny that they are vanity publishers.
"We don’t accept everyone who submits their manuscript." They'd say.
Yeah, right! They're hounding authors all over the net."

CONTINUE READING



Saturday, August 3, 2019

August Book Fair

Online Book Fair from August 3rd to August 17th



Authors and Readers of all genres are welcome to our Book Fair Event August 3rd to August 17th.

Authors:
Please add your book links to the appropriate (or closest) genre posts any time during the event with short taglines.

Readers:
Pop in any time during the event to browse, buy books, and enjoy.


Hope we'll see you there!

Friday, August 2, 2019

Got That Special Formula for Writing Magic?

Beg, borrow, steal, or create your own?



Any way you look at it, it’s a tough decision if your use magic in your writing. As writers, we do our research searching for that perfect incantation, spell or ritual to use in our story, but one size does not fit all. With that we need to think which is the best kind of magic for our characters, and is this a good fit?

Magic is unique to the creator and usually is specifically designed to work for that person with which their intention has been set for such purpose. So why not make it unique to your character?Now grant you, ancient spells have been published, along with numerous books on spells from healing simple ailments to love spells. Many of these are hundreds of years old and still being used by many. New spell books have emerged with the ever-growing Wiccan popularity.

As writers, we are indeed creators of our own fictional world and so many are opting to use a hybrid form of traditional magic or create their own. You hold the power, so why not come up with your own form?

I have a few friends who are Wiccan and traditional Witches and have been told to be careful when altering or borrowing a spell for a story. The best practices are to write it in the fictional sense— or if you do borrow a real spell, change the wording so that you are not intentionally practicing real magic if you have not had a background in this area. 

Let’s face it—magic is magic and can be unpredictable. I can tell you that I learned this the hard way—I will save that for another post. (You’ve been warned).

As for my writing, I have incorporated goddess magic, high Egyptian and Greek priestess magic, Italian Strega magic and a bit of old witchcraft. 

I have borrowed from old texts, various forms of research and modified old ones. I’ve found that the best forms of magic and spells are the ones I create. I thought it would be difficult at first, but it actually has turned out to be fun! Just imagine the possibilities!

So get that pen or athame ready and have fun with it, but make sure to practice safe magic.

Here is a link to 8 rules for safe spell casting~

Check out Lorraine's magical stories on AMAZON
Book 1 & 2 are available and book 3 of the trilogy is coming soon


Thursday, August 1, 2019

Making them special





JASMINE'S WISH

When something is a gift, you make it special.  Just a little something that sets it apart from the others.  Such is the case with this box set.  It is my gift to my daughtr, my angel in heaven.  So, these four books needed to be different from any others I publish.  With that in mind, I decided the layout of these books would be what made them unique.

The first feature I used in the books is categories.  As I mentioned before, Jasmine had sorted my poems so I decided to use her idea. I felt that by doing so it made her a part of the process which she always wanted me to do. So, the five categories became the first step in making my gift to her disinct.

In the layout of these four books, there is actually a poem before the table of contents.  An introduction to what you will find within the pages.  Readers of the e-versions may miss these poems as the books usually open at the first poem.  I don't remember why I did this, it seemed important at the time. 

The final criteria which separates these four books from my others is they are all dedicated to Jasmine.  The dedications themselves are also unique.  Each contains a poem as part of it. These I would like to share with you now.


 For Voices In My Head, the poem is Jasmine's epitaph, the hardest poem I ever had to write.

Our beautiful flower
Just beginning to bloom,
Loved and cherished,
Picked by God too soon





They Won't Shut Up was my second book and was published on her birthday. I made this a little more special by including a section of poems at the end written by her.

I miss you so much
Every day of the year
Feel your sweet hugs
Though you are not here

I give you this book
As my gift to you
The love in my heart
Will bring it to you




QUIET! Please? took many years to come out.  It should have been the third book, but actually came out after 3 others.  Somehow I just could not find the right cover to make it real.

Your belief in me
Made this dream real
A gift of love
For others to feel
Such is the magic
You poured on me
Opening my soul
For all to see





Silence was an unexpected surprise.  QUIET! Please? was supposed to be my final book but I guess Jasmine had other ideas.  Her spirit is always leading me where she thinks I should go.

Feed someone's dream
Help make it real
Encourage them
To think and feel
Use your words softly
Build confidences
Create playgrounds
Instead of fences
Dreams and visions
Need helping hands
To get us past
Our ruined plans

Poetry is in my blood, it is such a big part of me. Jasmine's Wish is my only book not found on Amazon.  It is available on Smashwords for kindle and on D2D  for all other formats.

Find Cindy on her:
Blog:
https://cindysvoices.blogspot.com/

Website:
http://indiebooksource.com/books-by-cindy-j-smith/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/cindysvoices
FB:  https://www.facebook.com/CindysVoices/
GOODREADS:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6505989.Cindy_J_Smith
Pinterest:
https://www.pinterest.com/cindyjsmith1/

Portfilio Links
https://view.joomag.com/golden-box-book-publishing-cindys-voices/0568888001561494976
http://pubhtml5.com/ahsh/nmba

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Catch 22

It used to be so easy!


Publishing and selling books was a breeze back then, when I published my first book.
I didn't have to worry about marketing because the books sold themselves.

I published a book on the two selling sites that were available and the sales started popping up on my dashboard.
I posted the new release on social sites and on my website, and readers clicked to buy the book and if they liked it, shared the link with their friends.

Now the market is saturated and it's a no-win battle for authors to show their books to readers and sell a few copies.

What happened?


  • First of all, a lot of competitors happened. Everyone and their aunt started writing and publishing. Some of the books were great, but the majority... well, isn't. It's because the selling sites didn't check quality, only proper formatting and grammar. 
  • A lot of new selling sites formed and it was great at the beginning because it gave the authors and readers more choices.
  • But in a short time, so many books were published that aggressive marketing became a necessity. 
  • Then, the pirate sites started popping up. Ruthless people stole eBooks, stripped off the protection and converted the books to PDF to offer it free on their website. Some of them thought books should be free, others used the free downloads as baits to increase their website traffic.
  • Then the "book stuffers" came into light. They published "books" that were only a few chapters and filled hundreds of pages with repetitive garbage. They added a link at the beginning with a bait or promise that led the reader to the end of the book. The selling site algorithm then picked it up as hundreds of pages read and paid the cheaters for the pages read. Some of these so called "authors" had the nerve to boast about making thousands of dollars a month by cheating.
  • On social sites my book posts used to be shared by a lot of people and had hundreds of comments, but people burned out by the book advertisements and are tired of seeing book promo posts. When they see posts shared by their friends, they block the author pages.
  • Reader groups used to be great as well. Readers were happy to interact with authors and clicked on book links to buy the books. Now, mostly authors are tooting their own horns in groups and the posts rarely viewed and commented by readers.
  • Today there are thousands of book promo and marketing sites offering services for various prices. Some work, most doesn't because readers got used to getting books for free. Either from pirate sites or from authors competing with each other and giving their books away for free.
  • Marketing? It's harder than ever. A few years back when I did 99 cents promo days quarterly for my books, I had hundreds of sales. Now I have to pay and because authors who can afford high priced marketing keep raising the bids to be seen, those of us with limited budget stay behind. 

I touched only a few obstacles in the lives of authors today. It's not easy to bring the books to the attention of readers. Small publishers are struggling along with self-published authors because you know, the big fish eats the small ones.
~Erika M Szabo

Click on the link to visit my website and read about my books.
I write speculative alternate history fiction, romantic urban fantasy, historical suspense novels as well as fun, educational, and bilingual books for children ages 2-14 about acceptance, friendship, family, and moral values such as accepting people with disabilities, dealing with bullies, and not judging others before getting to know them. I also like to encourage children to use their imagination and daydream about fantasy worlds.


Saturday, July 27, 2019

Hometown Memories Part 2

The Seasons at Letchworth

Marti Hurlburt
Carol Groat
Jonathan Lee
Letchworth is a gorgeous park no matter what time of year it is.  In the spring, the water rushing from the thaw has the  tributaries displaying their seasonal waterfalls while the major ones are in their full glory. 

Jonathan Lee
Lori Naqpier
Sandy Sucher
Eli De'Enn
In the fall, nature outdoes herself.  The colors add so much to the experience of visiting the park.  It was my favorite time to go.  The colors seemed to make the entire area glow.  It felt more magical.  Each stop a new palette of color to stimulate your brain while the sounds from the rushing water cleansed your soul.


Joe Pecoraro
Carol Groat

Jeanne Mcnamara
Sandy Sucher








Fall in all its glory just sings of cosy fires and hot spicy apple cider.  It makes me think of friends.





Carol Groat











 
Claire Harrington



 Winter offers its own special touch to the scenery here.  Even in its icy grip, the power of the falls is evident.

John Wilber
 
Jonathan Lee



 
Katie Houseknecht


 
 Colleen Przybysz



I hope you have enjoyed these pictures which bring my memories of this beautiful place to mind.   










Find Cindy on her:
Blog:
https://cindysvoices.blogspot.com/
Website:
http://carternovels.com/author-cindy-j-smith.html
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/cindysvoices
FB:  https://www.facebook.com/CindysVoices/
GOODREADS:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6505989.Cindy_J_Smith
Pinterest:
https://www.pinterest.com/cindyjsmith1/

Portfilio Links
https://view.joomag.com/golden-box-book-publishing-cindys-voices/0568888001561494976


http://pubhtml5.com/ahsh/nmba

365 narration by Karina Kantas https://drive.google.com/file/d/1d0UNM-QtpvOBS84qlAr9fiEK6by7QkwG/view

Friday, July 26, 2019

The ToiBox of Serials 1.2: Heart of the Golden Stag

Over on my personal blog, The ToiBox of Words, I’ve experimented with short fiction quite a bit. I’ve entered many blog writing contests and sometimes, just played around with it. In most cases, I’ve found myself expanding the stories I started on my blog and turning them into something more. All the stories in this series will be a product of what I started on my blog and then later added to in private. I will be sharing these stories in parts and encourage readers to leave positive or critical feedback (rude comments will be deleted). Perhaps, one day I’ll publish another personal anthology with these. Enjoy.



Side note: This story has never actually appeared on the ToiBox blog but was derived from a contest I entered and did not win. Still, the submission process was a good learning experience for me. This story is a retelling/reimagining with a twist. 


Heart of the Golden Stag, part 2
Read part 1 here.
The giggles and snaps of children playing in the alley below jolted Jamie’s body forward as dream and reality collided. Jamie rushed to the window, heart pounding and sweat dripping from her bushy unkempt brow. Below, little boys kicked a can back and forth between them as Jamie fought back tears. What a sad and stupid girl I can be sometimes. Shrugging her shoulders, she reached into the worn pockets of her men’s trousers to pull out a coin.
Tossing it down to the boys below, she called out in a gruff, “Bread and tea, young ones.”
The smaller of the two boys caught the coin, as usual, and then pulled the other along before replying, “Right away, Mr. Jaime. Be up soon.”
With the boys off to fetch her breakfast, Jamie quickly attended to her daily costuming. First, a few snips of hair along her forehead and at the nape of her neck. Then, a quick wash followed by fresh linen wraps to bind her breasts.
After chatting with the boys over tea, Jamie went to polishing her shoes with the intention of mulling over the day’s objectives. She’d lined up three marks the day before and was due for a good payday, yet her mind kept drifting back to her childhood. With her seventeenth birthday approaching, Jamie was plagued by nightmares and daydreams of the day she left home to become a boy.
She and her twin brother were turning twelve. Her older sister was a weeping doll, all dressed and made-up, in the corner sobbing through handkerchiefs as her stern and wrinkled betrothed pressed his hands upon her shoulder in mock-sympathy. Jamie watched the spectacle with dread, knowing that would be her fate upon her fifteenth birthday while her brother sniggered. He’d be heading off to the academy soon, to be educated and learn a trade.
Face warmed by the flickering candles, Jaime kept her eyes closed even after her brother blew out the flames as smoke wrapped around her head. She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes and say goodbye to her childhood. From here on, her days would be filled with learning all the ways a wife should keep a husband happy. If that was love, Jamie wanted no part of it, yet she hoped there was more to it. She hoped to find an unconventional man not bound by Northern traditions.
With the snap of her father’s fingers, Jamie popped her eyes open to see him holding tightly onto the belt resting around his waist. Knowing he wouldn’t dare punish her in front of company, and on her birthday no less, Jamie seized the moment and ran into the woods, calling for a game of hide-and-seek. Only, she never hid.
Jamie grabbed the bundle she’d concealed days before and continued to run. She kept running until there was no chance of being able to turn back. 
To be continued...
Heart of the Golden Stag 2018 Copyright © Toinette J. Thomas 


Find out more about me, my work, and my inspiration at the following links:


Amazon | Goodreads The ToiBox of Words | YouTube | See a list of my other posts here.

Thursday, July 25, 2019

A travel that wasn't meant to be.

I  am a traveler, and generally, I am going to plan my trips very carefully.
This is because the places I visit are everything but easy.
They are either in conflict areas in Africa or other not tourist
My thirst for knowledge is the driving force that attracts me to those places, and I want to know all the aspects of different cultures in the first person.
I love to ask people that have been living a particular conflict, a critical political period, or other interesting events.
Nevertheless, this time, the situation seems to slip from our hands.
The journey I am going to undertake together with my husband will bring us on the road between Lagos, Nigeria and Accra, Ghana. We will be driving through Benin and Togo stopping for a few days in each country.

The problem was (and still is) obtaining the Visa for Nigeria.
We made the first application for a multiple-entry visa, but we received only a single entry one (for the unrefunded price of the multiple-entry. Oh well, T.I.A. This Is Africa).
Finland doesn't have a Nigerian embassy, so everything was handled by the one located in Sweden. When we explained on the phone that we also needed a re-entry visa, they told us that we could obtain it better at the Nigerian embassy in Ghana.
"You have nothing to worry about," were their final words.
I wish I didn't listen to them.
We waited, and a couple of weeks ago, we contacted the Nigerian embassy in Ghana, explaining our situation and asking to fix already an appointment to get the visa.
Surprise! their answer: "we do not release visas for people who are not Ghanan residents."
PANIC!
Now, we have sent back our passports to the Nigerian Embassy in Sweden, with the request for another visa. We are keeping our finger crossed to have our passports back before the 2nd of August.
If not, we will have two choices:
1) we give up our journey
2) we go to Sweden and get our passports back even without the re-entry visa, and we travel anyway trying to figure out a way to return to Helsinki.
Of course, you can imagine that for us there is no option. We are leaving at any cost.
Besides, this journey is essential for the next paranormal thriller, I am going to write, so  I will never give up a trip. Moreover, I start really to feel a sort of Africa blues, and I need to come back there.
Keep your finger crossed and let's hope for the best!
Hope to see you again...

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Cursed Bloodline: Secrets and Lies

Cursed Bloodline

Romantic suspense with historical elements
EBOOK     PRINT     AUDIO
Is it possible that an ancient curse cast by a powerful witch sixteen-hundred years ago could destroy families in every generation for centuries?
Dark family secrets separated Sofia and Daniel when they were children, but fate brought them together years later.
When Sofia’s brother finds a leather book in his grandmother's secret room that was written in 426 by a shaman, dark memories of their childhood start to surface.
Reading the ancient runes, they learn about their family's curse. If it remains unbroken, the curse will bring tragedy and ruin their lives as it destroyed many of their ancestors' lives. Could they find the way to break the ancient curse?

“This is the curse of an evil deed that incites and must bring forth more evil.” ~Johann Friedrich Von

Prologue

Present day
“Wow!” Sofia blurted as they entered the secret room. “You were right, there are lots of treasures in here.”

“I looked only in this trunk but look at the shelves.”

Sofia walked to the shelves and touched the carved, wooden and stone statues one by one. “Look,” she said, “the Sacred Turul. This wood carving is a masterpiece!”

“Yes, I estimate it to be at least a thousand years old. Look at this horse.” He pointed at the black onyx statue.

“Magnificent!” Sofia marveled.

“We can look at those later,” Jayden mentioned to Sofia. “Let’s see if we can find more writing in the trunk.”

“Okay…” Sofia hesitantly replied. She was having a hard time averting her eyes from rows after rows of statues, jewelry, headdresses adorned with beads, gold chalices and bowls.

Jayden opened the wooden trunk and started taking out the items that were wrapped in leather. He pulled the coverings open which revealed swords, knives, handmade leather shoes, and carefully-wrapped scrolls.

“Jay, look!” Sofia pointed at the inside of the trunk lid. “There’s an envelope and it doesn’t seem old.”

Jayden grabbed the corner of the white envelope but couldn’t pull it away. “It seems to be glued to the top,” he stated as he carefully lifted the corner with a knife and pried it away from the wood without ripping the paper.

As he turned it he saw writing on the envelope. “For Sofia and Jayden,” he read out loud. “It’s Grandma’s handwriting and it’s for us.” He sat down on a box, opened the envelope and pulled out the folded letter. He started reading it out loud.

Dearest Sofia and Jayden,
You’re reading this letter, which means I’m gone. I swore to your mother that I would never tell you about the family curse, but I cannot take it to my grave. Although your mother always strongly believed that it is merely a stupid legend and refused to listen to me, I must let you know somehow. Jayden, your life in danger…

The year 426 in the Carpathian Basin
As they got close to the trees and peeked out, they saw disheveled men sitting on the ground around fires. Their savage laughs, as they were eating and drinking, cut through to their hearts. Elana gasped when she saw the lifeless bodies of her neighbors thrown to the ground. Zala turned to Elana and raised his eyebrow, silently asking if she was ready. Her eyes shone with anger. She nodded and placed an arrow on her bow and pulled the string, aiming at the head of the loudest bandit who seemed to be the horde’s leader.

Zala whispered, “You have lost the most. You have the right to revenge.”

Elana let the arrow fly, and it pierced the bandit’s forehead between his eyes, coming out at the back of his head halfway. His body fell backward, limp and lifeless.

Zala looked at the waiting wolves and motioned them to go forward. The bandits scrambled to their feet in horror as their leader fell, and the wolves attacked them. Zala and Elana started riding around them in circles, aiming and shooting as the men tried to flee. A few slumped to the ground pierced by arrows, others screamed as the wolves chomped at their hands.

Elana spotted the alpha as he clamped his powerful jaw over a man’s wrist and with a jerk of his head, bit the hand off. And then Elana froze when she saw her mirror image looking at her with crazed eyes.

“Tuana!” Elana yelled and urged her horse toward the disheveled young woman.

Tuana turned her horse and kicked its side, urging the horse to a gallop. Within seconds they collided. The horses neighed in terror as the women were thrown off their backs by the impact. Both women jumped to their feet and faced each other. Elana gave out the warriors’ battle cry, raised her sword, and thrust it toward Tuana. Elana’s move was swift, but Tuana was fast as well and leaned out of the way of the deadly blow. As Tuana jumped back, she looked down with terror in her eyes. A gray wolf standing next to her growled and dropped Tuana’s hand on the ground; it was still clutching the sword. The wolf shook the blood from his muzzle, turned, and ran toward the bushes. Tuana stared at her stump as it spurted blood on her legs.

Tuana howled like a wounded animal and then gave out an insane laugh as she held the stump of her arm close to her chest and started backing away. “I curse you and your descendants! Every woman in your bloodline will have a daughter like me who will be thrown away like garbage. The daughters will kill their brothers and leave their sister alive to carry the bloodline. All mothers for eternity will pay for what your mother did to me.” 

Monday, July 22, 2019

Why I Write for Children

Why I Write for Children 


Writing for children is important to me because I want children to develop the same love of books I had as a child. A love that doesn’t fade with time. Children’s books create lifelong readers; readers who eventually buy adult books.

I began my love affair with words many years ago. Some of my fondest memories are being read to as a child, visiting the library, and discovering the ability to read by myself. I still have worn copies of favourite childhood books, such as The Bobbsey Twins, Little Women, Black Beauty and Anne of Green Gables; and revisit these old friends from time to time. Books and children go together like toast and jam, in my opinion. Since I never show up without a book as a gift, my grandchildren call me, The Book Gramma.

It´s not surprising then, that I love to write for children.

While writing for children can be fun, it isn´t easy. It requires removing yourself from the adult world and think like a twenty-first century kid. Fortunately, I like to hang around kids, listen to the words they use, observe the gestures, the looks, the trends. I also enjoy reading current, children’s books to see what sparks the interest of today’s young people. Children notice things adults wouldn’t and could care less about things adults think are important. It’s necessary to get into their head space. And guess what? While I’m writing, I get to be a kid again - and I love it!

The main character in my first book, Amanda in Arabia-The Perfume Flask, is a Canadian girl who wishes for travel and adventure on her twelfth birthday. The next day she gets a ticket to fly to the United Arab Emirates to visit her aunt and uncle. There she has an adventure of a lifetime. One young reader said to me, “I want to know where Amanda will travel to next.”  That motivated me to write Amanda in Spain-The Girl in The Painting. 

I had so much fun writing about Amanda, her travels and escapades that I continued by writing Amanda in England-The Missing Novel.

While doing a presentation at a school, one student asked, “Why doesn´t Amanda stay in Alberta and have an adventure?”

I replied, “That´s a great idea,” and consequently wrote Amanda in Alberta – The Writing on the Stone. 

Kids are always giving me ideas. I often quote things I overhear them say in my stories. They can be so clever too. Often wise beyond their years.

I recall taking the ferry to Vancouver Island one summer weekend. It was packed, mostly with families. I was pleased to see many of the children, and some of the parents, reading books. I knew that those kids would grow up to be readers and most likely read to their children one day. Studies have proven that children who are read to at a very young age, even as babies, are more likely to be successful in school and in life.

I have written two more books in the series, Amanda on the Danube – The Sounds of Music and Amanda in New Mexico – Ghosts in the Wind.  Book seven, Amanda in Holland – Missing in Action is about to be released in September of 2019. I am currently working on book number eight and have ideas for others. I have to keep writing, as my  fans are expecting more of Amanda’s Travels.

Although it is a lot of work, it brings me much joy to write my books as I know these fans will grow up with a love of reading and buy adult books soon. Writers of children’s books help create readers for life. It’s an important occupation and one I am happy to be a small part of.

Children who read, become adults that think.


Darlene Foster has always been a dreamer of dreams and a teller of tales. Following her dreams, she’s a well-travelled author of the Amanda Travels series featuring a spunky young girl who finds mystery and adventure everywhere she visits. Darlene divides her time between the west coast of Canada and the Costa Blanca, in Spain where she lives with her husband and entertaining dog, Dot.

Friday, July 19, 2019

A few considerations about positivity



”Never let go of your dreams.”

We might have seen or heard this sentence thousands of times yet, either we are too busy with our everyday life, or we are literally bombed by similar good phrases that we don’t stop and think about the meaning of such a simple statement anymore.

When generally, I need to give my best wishes to someone I love, I generally say:

Shall your destiny fulfill all your dreams, except one.

You might say, why? Why would I ever want that person not to have all her/his dreams fulfilled?

Because dreams are the fuel of our life, the energy that makes up wanting to face the day. They are the light we aim at in our darkest moments, the sparkle in our eyes, the thought that makes us smile, the force that despite the tiredness makes us increase the pace of our run to reach the finish line.

Thinking about it, conceiving a dream is like receiving a pair of wings, and the strongest the desire that attracts us to it, the bigger are the wings we create.

Think about the happiness of grabbing that dream when you achieve it.

Yes, it might even last forever, but we will miss that force; that spark that ignites our run in its direction.

Once we have it, we are at peace, and whether this is absolutely fine, the feeling of aiming at something that seems to be just there, but we can’t reach it quite yet, is fairly addictive.

We are motivated to keep on going just for the sake of that dream.
Now, of course, I am not talking about those dreams of tranquility, stability, economical safety, health. Those are basic requirements for a happy life, not just dreams.

Those are the ones I wish to be fulfilled.

Yet, I wish that little devil of a dream, which is not a question of life or death, rather it’s something even superfluous, will ignite your will and make your life an endless journey where for once you don’t enjoy the end but every single minute of it.
Besides, happiness lies in the wait of an event to happen, rather than the event itself, and the same applies to dreams.

Therefore, if there is something you are aiming to, and it seems you are never reaching it; perhaps that is the dream you need to feel alive to make your morning brighter, and the food tastier, and your darkest moment less dark.

For this reason, I wish you to keep one dream in your drawer, always there at your availability when you need to smile or to be reminded about the prize.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Dean Banks Adventures

Dean Banks Adventures

Lorraine Carey

Everyone has a To Do List—right 
But Dean Banks is just a normal teenager until he moves to Apace Junction in Arizona with his mother and sister to run a dilapidated inn that has a reputation as being haunted.

Take a peek at Dean’s To Do List:
·      Protect the legendary Lost Dutchman Mine in the Superstition Mountains
·      Keep his newfound powers in check as a shape shifter
·      Keep an eye on a mysterious red coyote
·      Catch a badass burglar who robs the family inn
·      Ward off some bullies who try to befriend him
·      Uncover and destroy a secret government laboratory underneath the Superstition Mountains
·      Keep his girlfriend safe from an evil spirit.

But all he really wants to do is ride his dirt bike in the desert.

Follow Dean’s adventures in Mysteries of the Red Coyote Inn and Out of the Ashes.


An excerpt from Out of the Ashes *book 2
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.

Dean picked up one of them; he had never 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 it 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 he decided to sit down and drink some water. “Ah, I needed that!” His friend circled up ahead as if waiting for him.

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 monster, 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 click and tingle, like tiny bells.
“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, as you will find your enemies are very close at hand now. Remember, all is not what it seems.” She faded out slowly, 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 hell? Now I’m the Hulk?”

Enjoy the book trailer~


 Both books can be found in eBook and print on Amazon.

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