Saturday, August 31, 2013
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
"Home Wrecker I"
by
Brenda Perlin
Synopsis:
"Throughout Brooklyn’s life, she felt like she was on an endless journey toward redemption and she would have to be stronger than she ever imagined; do things she never felt herself capable of doing. When she finally found her soul mate, he came with one big snag: a wife. Brooklyn found herself fighting off her soon to be ex-husband and her lover’s wife. She knew what she was doing was wrong and yet… she couldn’t turn back. No matter how much pain she may cause, it was too late. Brooklyn and Bo, each unhappily married to others, must decide whether to stay with their spouses or give up everything for their love. Brooklyn’s husband and Bo’s wife would try everything to break them apart and it was then Brooklyn finally confronted her own demons and came clean with everything and everyone in her life… even herself."
Excerpt from "Home Wrecker I":
“I had just turned thirty. That was enough in itself to be depressed about. I never thought I would be this age and feel this worthless. I was supposed to be “somebody.” I guess you could say I was slightly disappointed at the outcome. This age thing affected me a great deal, although it disgusted me to admit that. I could see why men usually liked dating younger girls, preferably in their twenties. It’s all so obvious. Basically, you get older and naturally become bitter. If you weren’t bitter, or somewhat tainted, there was probably something very wrong with you. I believe this to be the God’s honest truth. Life has a way of taking the optimism out of you, and not all that gracefully, I may add.
My state of mind was making it difficult to move on. So what was to become of me? That’s a simple enough question with not so simple an answer. I’d been spinning my wheels for so long that I was starting to run out of fuel.”
Excerpt from upcoming release "Home Wrecker II: The Brooklyn Chronicles":
“On the day that I left for good, I remember getting into my car like I always did. While driving out of the garage I watched our dog Grace watching me drive away. I knew it would be for the last time. Fortunately, she wouldn’t remember any of it. As for me, I wouldn’t be able to get that image out of my head. As I drove away, tears filled my eyes. The guilt that I felt at that moment was insurmountable. Those tears that I cried were the only tears that I shed throughout that entire time period. Never once did I cry for my husband.”
Author Bio:
Brenda Perlin is an independent adult contemporary fiction author. Brenda evokes emotional responses in her readers by using a provocatively unique writing style. Her latest book, Home Wrecker, captures the soul-wrenching conflicts of a personal struggle for emotional fulfillment.
Ever since Brenda was a child, she has been fascinated with writing. She draws her biggest inspiration from Judy Blume. This sparked a passion in Brenda to pursue personal expression through writing. Once she was old enough to go to coffee shops alone, Brenda recalls losing herself in the world of writing, all while documenting her ideas on paper napkins.
“There is really no creative process, I just write,” – Brenda Perlin
Brenda’s first book, Home Wrecker I (Home Wrecker Chronicles), was published with Master Koda Select Publishing. Within a short time, the book developed a strong fan base and is continuing to grow as it both entertains its readers and leaves them in a state of profound reflection. In the near future, Brenda would like to have Home Wrecker I expanded into a trilogy in order to tell the untold stories of her characters.
Home Wrecker Book Trailer
LINKS:
Monday, August 26, 2013
Let’s Welcome Author T.M. Novak
T.M. Novak, author of
“The Abduction of Lilly Waters”
Becoming Published:
When I found out Kim Emerson at Master Koda Select Publishing was going to actually publish me I cried like a baby. There aren't even words to express how happy I felt, and still feel. It's definitely a dream come true. I don't think I truly believed it would ever happen. I've been trying to break in for ten years. The funny thing is my husband was the one who lit the fire under me to try harder. He told me he would move us anywhere I wanted to live if I got published. He doesn't want to move so I think even he thought it would never happen. He will never challenge me again! Needless to say, the flood gates are open now and the stories are spilling from my imagination. I am having the best time of my life.
How the idea of the book came to me:
My ideas come to me in my dreams. One night, a long time ago, I woke up with a vivid recall of a dream. It later became the opening scene of the story. Once my heart beat slowed and I could actually breath again, I jotted down the idea and went back to sleep. The memory of the dream came back to me often and I knew the story had to be written, but I was afraid to write it. I wasn't afraid of the idea but I was terrified I wouldn't be able to pull it off. Writing wasn't something I was trained to do. Finally, after years of waiting, I got the courage to try and since I'd thought about the story often I'd already worked out all the kinks in my mind. It was very easy and fun to write. I love the twists and turns! It is truly a unique story so I am thrilled the rest of the world will be able to read it.Synopsis:
Beth never anticipated her life would end up like it did. The last beating she received at the hands of her
The frequent stops the mother and daughter had to make were uneventful until Beth pulled into a Diner in Moore, Oklahoma where her daughter Lilly was taken by unseen hands.
Detective’s Daniel Prescott and Frank Martinez head the investigation trying relentlessly to solve the case before it’s too late. These days, when children are taken it’s a unified frenzy to find them. In this case, every lead turns up empty and every turn they take reveals a clue they couldn’t have anticipated. The detectives aren’t quite sure where to turn or who to trust; even the mother herself is a prime suspect.
The Abduction of Lilly Waters is a fast paced child abduction thriller that will leave you on the edge of your seat in anticipation until the end where you’ll discover the deepest and darkest secret waiting.
Biography of T.M. Novak:
Tammy was born in Waterbury, Connecticut eight minutes before her twin brother. She comes from a large family with seven brothers and sisters, and eleven nieces and nephews. She grew up in Southern California, and currently lives in Prescott, Arizona.
Tammy married her high school sweet heart Gary in 1994 and they have four sons’ together. She received her teaching degree from Northern Arizona University in 2010 and is currently a teacher in Mayer, Arizona.
The Abduction of Lilly Waters is her debut novel and there are several other works in progress; she has a Y.A. series in the works called Butterfly Lake, and a children’s book series called, The Big Green Dinosaur which will be published under Tammy Moore. Her sister Latisha Wood is expected to illustrate them for her.
The things that inspire Tammy the most are family and she always keeps them at the forefront of her thoughts. She gets her story ideas from her dreams and her children, where she takes a simple moment and turns it into a world all its own.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Devorah Fox, Author - Interview
An Interview with Robin, King Bewilliam, ruler of the Chalklands and hero of The Lost King and The King’s Ransom, Books One and Two of The Bewildering Adventures of King Bewilliam.Thanks to readers of The Lost King and The King’s Ransom, Books One and Two of The Bewildering Adventures of King Bewilliam for submitting questions. -- Devorah Fox
As the sun set taking its light with it and the Great Hall dimmed, so too did King Bewilliam’s energy fade. It had been a long day. He wasn’t complaining. He relished the work of ruler of the Chalklands. There was a time when he was simply Robin and his labor had been physically taxing. While he never failed to give his all, he much preferred the diplomacy and decision-making challenges that he faced as king. It was the work for which he was born and bred. Though the approach of evening found him weary, ready for an ale and supper, a clutch of subjects remained standing before him waiting to be heard. Among them was a farmer’s son. He cast anxious glances at the door, no doubt wanting to return to the fields before the day’s light was lost. He then turned pleading eyes to Robin.
“We will take a few more questions and then we will call it a day,” Robin said. He bid the farmer’s boy to
The young man bowed and said, “Sire, we your subjects, have learned of the terrible struggles that Your Majesty endured to win back the kingdom. How did you keep going in the face of such adversity?”
The boy had probably battled adversity of his own. A cropper’s fortunes were at the mercy of natural forces that even the most skilled farmer could not control, Robin knew. “One day at a time, lad,” he replied. “Often, just as we were exhausted and tempted to give up, something would revive our commitment. It might be as simple as an encouraging word or some small achievement but it was just enough to set us back onto our path.” Robin smiled. “Facing Death only made us realize how desperately we wanted to achieve our destiny.”
With a thoughtful expression the boy nodded, bowed, and stepped back.
Sir Alan who had recently renewed his pledge to serve said, “In the old days, you had several trusted knights. Not so many these days. What are your plans to recruit new ones?” The question sounded confrontational but Sir Alan’s stern expression also conveyed concern.
“The Chalklands boasts many riches with which we can compensate loyal service. We look to you, our faithful knights, to recommend, recruit, inspire, and train others who wish to prosper along with us.”
A rare smile lifted Sir Alan’s lips and his eyes twinkled. “Must a knight be a male?”
A female knight? Robin had never heard of such a thing. “A provocative question, Sir Alan. In our travels we have had the good fortune to meet several capable and valiant women. How would you feel about serving alongside one?”
Sir Alan opened his mouth to reply. He looked perplexed, frowned, and finally said, “A provocative question, Sire.” Like the farmer’s son, he nodded, bowed, and stepped back.
From the back of the crowd came a voice. “My lord, at the risk of being thrown out back and flogged, I shall stand here and speak. I am Jonathon Nobody of the Commoner's Gazette. Sire, you have had everything that few of us could ever dream of and you've lost it for whatever reasons. You have clawed and kicked yourself back to the very pinnacle you were once at. You were a fool in a field now you are a King.
“Not so fast,” said Robin perhaps louder than necessary. Now this question was indeed confrontational. However Jonathon Nobody could be giving expression to qualms that others were too timid to voice. Best that Robin put these fears to rest now. “We will never leave the Kingdom of the Chalklands’ welfare in the hands of an uncaring or exploitative ruler,” he said. “You have heard of our plans to strengthen our defenses. We have not endured the struggles that we did only to lose the kingdom again. We will do whatever is necessary to ensure that will not happen.”
From the shadows, a woman’s voice piped up. “Sire, do you intend ever to return to Empress Alexandra and Sea Gate?”
Robin struggled to suppress the flush that threatened to color his face as he was flooded with the memory of the brief but affecting experience. He hadn’t even been aware that anyone in the Chalklands knew of his sojourn at Sea Gate Fortress or what had transpired there. He had no ready answer and leaving the question unanswered gave the officer at arms the high sign. Puzzled, the man nevertheless dutifully announced that there would be no more audiences that day. Robin’s subjects straggled out into the evening leaving their King in the darkening hall alone with his memories of the past and dreams for the future.
Goodreads links:
Buy the books at:
The Lost King on sale until July 31, 2013. Enter promo code SSW50 at checkout for 50% off.
About the Author
Winner of four National Novel Writing Month marathons, Devorah Fox has written for television, radio, magazines, newspapers, and the Internet. Publisher and editor of the BUMPERTOBUMPER® books for commercial motor vehicle drivers, she is also developer of the Easy CDL apps for the iPhone and iPad. She has written test preparation guides for Barron’s Educational Series, Inc. and edited books for Techni-Com, a Canadian publisher, as well as several novels. Born in Brooklyn, New York, she has lived in Port Aransas, Texas, since 2005. Secretary of the Rockport Writers Group, Fox writes the "Dee-Scoveries" blog here and column of the same name for The Island Moon newspaper. She wrote her first novel in the third grade and has written several more since. The Lost King, a literary fantasy, is her first published work of fiction and its sequel, The King’s Ransom, is her most recent. devorahfox@aol.com
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Author Spotlight & Reviews of
Beem Weeks
Author of "Jazz Baby"
Guest Blog Post by Mr Weeks:
Emily Ann "Baby" Teegarten is a young girl with big dreams. She has the sort of voice that convicts sinners simply through song. But Baby has bigger aspirations than singing spirituals to that Mississippi congregation on Sunday mornings during the summer of 1925. The girl yearns to sing jazz in the clubs way up in New York City. Her father is her biggest supporter, standing behind the girl every step of the way--until he passes away suddenly. Her mother, accused in the father's demise, follows him to the grave shortly thereafter.
So what's a poor white-trash orphan girl supposed to do to answer the call of her dreams? Her strict, Bible-believing Aunt Francine has ideas of her own for this tiny girl with the big voice. She brokers a marriage between Emily and Jobie Pritchett, the preacher's son.
Emily Ann is a composite of several girls I've known over the years. There is a psychological element to this character that comes from reality, as harsh and dark as that might seem to some readers. She demanded to be written into existence. I could hear her voice, with that Mississippi lilt, calling out to me from the ether, arguing that it's her time, so pick up that pen, author man, and get to writing.
What Jazz Baby is meant to be is a trip into the year 1925; a shared summer with one young girl trying to find her way in life, in the world of her day. I spent untold hours in researching the era and that region of the country, and human behavior in general. The thing about human behavior is, it doesn't change, no matter the era in which we live. Stories from that era, told to me by my own grandfather, seem to suggest that the young people from the 1920s sought out the same things young people from the 2010s search after.
These weren't asexual, sober, boring people back then. Not at all. The stories I heard, either directly or through eavesdropping, told tales of young and vibrant lives, of men and women on the prowl for good times, cheap booze, and dirty sex. Not at all different from today. (Google "vintage porn" and see how many nudie pics from the 1920s pop up.) The thing is, today we see our grandparents (mine are long dead) as old people who spend a lot of time in church, doing good and Godly things. But they were young once. Young, and quite different from who they are today. Humans grow older, we mature, we change. It's part of the life experience.
I found it interesting that opium was a popular recreational drug in use during that era. Marijuana grew wild in parts of the country, going unmolested by the local authorities, many of whom would consider it silly to dedicate time, money, and effort in trying to eradicate a weed. The young people of the 1920s, the partiers, were the very ones partaking of these forbidden fruits.
One reviewer referred to the characters in Jazz Baby as "Blue Velvet-type characters." I like that comparison, though that movie never once crossed my mind as I wrote the book. These are indeed a collection of strange and bizarre types. I've always loved stories that break from the normal novel template. Good, quirky characters are a blast to create. The idea for the character called "Pig" came from a documentary film on 1920s movie star Fatty Arbuckle. He'd watched his career ruined through a sexual scandal that had no basis in truth. But in Jazz Baby, this character truly is scandalous. He really has those "unnatural" appetites.
Even Emily Ann has a bit of the quirky in her. She's fearless, reckless, and foolish, the way she traipses around the streets of New Orleans, running through the red-light district once known as Storyville, where she considers an invitation to allow her virginity to be auctioned to the highest bidder in a Storyville whorehouse. She's a fan of bootleg whiskey, opium, and cigarettes, and she hasn't a care in the world. Sexuality awakens in the girl, has her pondering the things that can take place between a boy and a girl--or between two girls. Is she bi-sexual? Labels mean nothing to Emily. And neither does race, as she spends much of her time in the company of "colored" jazz musicians, sharing intimacy with a certain piano player.
But the streets are quite dangerous for a young girl of Emily's size and age. Not everyone she meets has her best interests at heart. This is where that reckless side could cost her more than she's able afford. Dark characters have their own ideas for this girl, how best to profit from her talents--even her father's best friend proffers his own schemes.
It took me upwards near ten years to complete this novel, with all the rewrites, the research, and a two-year abandonment. It is available at Amazon as a paperback or an ebook for Kindle.
Here is my Goodreads Page
Blurb:
While all Mississippi bakes in the scorching summer of 1925, a sudden orphanhood casts its icy shadow across Emily Ann Teegarten, a pretty young teen. Taken in by an aunt bent on ridding herself of this unexpected burden, "Baby" Teegarten plots her escape using the only means at her disposal: a voice that makes church ladies cry and angels take notice. "I'm gonna sing jazz up to New York City," she brags to anybody who'll listen. 'Cept that Big Apple--well, it's an awful long way from that dry patch of earth she used to call home. So when the smoky stages of New Orleans speakeasies give a whistle, offering all kinda shortcuts, Emily soon learns it's the whorehouses and drug joints promising to tickle more than just a young girl's fancy that can dim a spotlight . . . and knowing the wrong people can snuff it out. Jazz Baby just wants to sing--not fight to stay alive.
Y. Correa's Read & Review Team's Review of "Jazz Baby" by Beem Weeks:
Y. Correa's Review:
From the first line the character of Emily Ann jumped to life. I was instantly taken into a time and place that I knew little about (excluding what I'd learned in text books), and by the time I turned to the last page I felt as though I'd gone on a one of a kind journey with Emily Ann "Baby" Teengaten leading the way.
It amazed me how I could clearly hear that "Southern Miss'ippi twang" leap off of the pages and ring clear in my ears, bright and true.
Baby, was in heart and mind the definition of a rebel, only being a rebel was something that her life thrust her into. A girl with a dream--she wanted nothing more than to sing Jazz in New York City--who had become an orphan in the most heinous of ways, forced to live with her adamantly religious aunt consequently making her real voyage begin.
A curious, by no means shy, take the bull by the horns type, Emily Ann isn't afraid to explore anything, including her sexuality!
She's strong willed: yes. She talks to fast: yes, that too. She has an almost reckless personality: indeed. But, her heart is always in the right place, caring for the people in her life regardless of race and color. She could see past that.
The people that eventually came into her life where the catalysts that changed her life completely. Jobie a preachers son, Nessie a young black wash girl, Billy Blood a bold Native American boy, DeShay a young black Jazz musician, Pig a drug dealer, Rydekker a King Pin. So many powerful characters that mold and shape Baby's life and open the door, leading the way to womanhood.
I was flabbergasted at the realization that one of my favorite characters (Tanyon, Baby's father's best friend) was not what he seemed.
The culmination was also not necessarily what I'd expected but that's not exactly a bad thing. This story did not have a Cinderella ending, but the ending it had rang true to the time and gave the idea of the characters having much more to come.
Warning: This is NOT a story for the faint of heart!
I do assure you however, "Jazz Baby" is a story that you are sure to enjoy if you are looking for something out of the norm.
I was very impressed with the authors execution of the story, the progression of the story, and the writing was refreshing and creative. An excellent read! I highly recommend "Jazz Baby" for those who are looking to take a trip back in time.
Queen of Spades' Review:
For the extended review, please stop by The Review Board
“Baby” Teegarten has a dream: a dream to sing Jazz in New York City. However, in her quest to achieve that dream, she runs into many pitfalls causing her to grow up way too soon. This is set up in Mississippi in the summer of 1925, and this sparked my interest greatly, due to the fact that Mississippi is my place of origin.
The first thing I noticed was the tone of this work. Jazz Baby is a mix of comedic sprinkles, bold dreams, slaps of reality, long suffering, and lingering hope, yet conveyed in a way of it being “just another day” in a Mississippi town.
I could feel all the emotions the main character experienced. From the apprehension of her first shot at escaping her circumstances (singing for church folks); to her conflicting inner battles with her attraction to different characters; to her longing for something beyond her Mississippi existence.
The Southern dialect was amazingly on point. I found myself smiling each time the author used “fixin’” because it’s one of those terms where if I was talking to my neighbor at home, he would know exactly what I meant.
The spelling and grammar (not related to dialect) was flawless. The resolution has a lingering effect, leaving the reader to come up with his own conclusion. Does “Baby” still have the Jazz in her or did all of the troubles sap it out of her?
Nicola McDonagh Review:
This is a truly memorable read with a rich and evocative narrative reminiscent of Faulkner and Flannery O’Connor. It is a story of a very strong-willed 13 year-old girl desperate to become a Jazz singer. Emily Ann Teergaten smokes opium, canoodles with boys and girls alike, and somehow manages to survive the threat and menace that surrounds her, as she attempts to make her dream come true and sing in New York City.
Tragedy follows Emily at every turn as she spirals towards drug addiction and prostitution on her way to fulfil her passion. She encounters many people who help and hinder her as she develops into womanhood. There is Nessie, the wash girl in her aunt’s house with whom she forms a strong bond, and Jobie the preachers son, who becomes her protector-of sorts. Then there are those that want to abuse her talent and lead her astray; Pig a fat drug dealer, is nearly her undoing, but Emily Ann is made of sterner stuff. It does appear that her strong willed attitude and eagerness to be grown up, causes a lot of her troubles. When she steals money from a notorious gangster, Emily must become resourceful and cunning if she is to survive.
The writing is vibrant and sensuous, evoking a real sense of what living in Mississippi in 1925 was like. All the characters and locations are utterly believable due to the wonderful descriptions throughout the narrative.
If I have one criticism, it is the ending. It seemed too abrupt and open ended after all that had gone on before. Because of this, I almost gave the book a 4*. But on reflection, the ending does seem fitting. Maybe there is going to be a sequel. I hope so.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Featured Author,
For over two years Tyjuana Wilson has written about singlehood while living in Charlotte. Her blog is now a book, a fictitious journey of a writer who is determined to be single and happy.
Tolethia Toy Winnings is on a quest to prove that being single -- and almost 40, with good looks, a freelance writing career and a college-freshman daughter who shakes her head at it all! -- is possible. She tests her new experiment in Charlotte, North Carolina, a city where it seems the current zeitgeist is to be in a committed relationship. Fed up with mainstream media s portrayal of African-American single women, Toy wants to prove that reality is not real and invites her new following to disregard what social media and basic
cable is shoving down their throats.
So far, being man-less seems to work in her favor from a business perspective. Is it all enough for her?
Continue to follow Tyjuana, the real Toy, at:
The mother of a 15-year-old, Tyra, is a freelance copywriter for start-ups all over the world. She is single, and happy, in Charlotte, NC.
Excerpt:
"Then the waitress comes over to take our order and I immediately tell her what I want; had a taste for seafood. He on the other hand asked the same damned question he asked me, “do you have any boneless chiggen?” I wanted to scratch my head. The waitress pointed out the choices, just like I did moments ago. He hesitated. I glanced at the waitress and she looked a bit puzzled, perhaps she was thinking what I was thinking. She then made a suggestion from the menu, which by now, she and I both knew the chicken choices by heart. He blurted out an “I’ll try that.”
That’s when it hit me, he cannot read. How in the world is he an online dater?"
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Featuring the Collection of
Author, Devorah Fox
EXCERPT
Robin, the lost King of the Chalklands, invents the “three martini lunch”
“Ah, what is this?”
“A newly discovered wine for which he has a special appreciation, much as the one he holds for a respected friend such as yourself.”
Stanley gave a short laugh. “Good man, that Oliver John. Well, let me sample the lord’s latest discovery.” Stanley strode to the sideboard, selected a goblet, uncorked the wine, and poured himself some. He took a sip and paused, savoring the flavors. He nodded his head and took another sip. “Yes, I can see why he likes this. It’s quite bracing.”
Based on the sample Robin had had in the alehouse, “bracing” would not have been the word he would have chosen. “Dizzying” was more like it.
As Stanley continued to drink, he returned to the table where Robin’s samples were still displayed, picked up a pommel, and hefted it.
“So, this serves as a counterweight, you said,” Stanley said.
“Yes, sir,” Robin replied, and measured out a little more information about the pommel’s function.
Stanley tipped up his goblet and then frowned.
“Empty, sir?” Robin asked. “May I get you more?” Without waiting for an answer, Robin seized the bottle from the sideboard. Stanley held out his goblet.
Robin eased back into his presentation and displayed his own sword into which he had put the best craftsmanship of which he was capable. By the time he had finished, he had dispensed enough persuasive blandishments to propose a very fine sword indeed, and Stanley had had enough fortified wine to agree to commission it.
“My knights would benefit from finer armaments as well, would they not?” Lord Stanley asked.
“Oh, indeed,” Robin replied, trying not to stammer at the prospect of outfitting all of Lord Stanley’s troops. “If you would just sign here, milord,” Robin said. He produced from his portfolio a parchment with language that authorized the Ironworks to fashion the sword “as presented.”
“I can change the quantity?”
“Of course. Just mark through the quantity on the agreement, indicate the quantity that you require and initial the change.”
“That’s simple enough,” said Stanley. “I will go fetch a writing instrument.”
“Oh, I have one here,” said Robin. From his bag he produced a quill pen and a small bottle of ink corked and sealed with wax.
“Well, you did come prepared, didn’t you?” said Stanley.
“I did not wish to waste your valuable time, milord,” Robin replied, trying not to pant although he could barely catch his breath from excitement. He threw in a quick bow for good measure.
“Certainly not,” said Stanley. “Well, the sooner we complete these formalities, the sooner we can get back to the wine, isn’t that right?” He laughed and clapped Robin on the back. “Join me in a toast to our friend, would you?” He hoisted his glass.
“I would be most honored,” Robin said, wondering why Stanley did not offer him a glass and how he could join in a toast without one.
“To Oliver John,” Stanley said and took another sip.
“To Lord Oliver John,” said Robin. As Stanley inked the agreement and affixed his seal, Robin gazed wistfully at the wine bottle.
Find it at:
"The King's Ransom", by Devorah Fox
EXCERPT
Robin, the lost King of the Chalklands, faces certain death
Robin studied the heavy iron padlock that kept the shackle fastened on his wrist. Now that, that had possibilities. Robin smiled. He knew a little something about locks. As a young prince curious about the working of things, he had spent a rainy afternoon with the castle’s locksmith. It had seemed to young Robin that locks were long on intimidating looks but not all that daunting as security devices. He was confident that he could pick the one that held his shackle fast, if he had the right tool.
Or any tool. Would that he had his purse. Maybe he could employ his steel as a tool. Even his belt would have been helpful. He might have been able to use the prong, but the guard had taken his belt as well. There was nothing in the room or on his person that would be of any use. His clothes were all made of soft fabric; nothing stiff or sturdy enough from which to fashion a pick. The instrument had to be rigid but it didn’t have to be very big. Something the size of his little finger would do.
His little finger. In the twilight he regarded his hands. If he could get down to the bone, the bone of his little finger might work. The prospect of pain and dismemberment did not discourage him. Animals escaped traps
by gnawing off limbs and they survived. He probably wouldn’t even feel the pain, Robin thought. He was already numb with despair about the fate that was likely to befall Meeyoo and Thief if he didn’t find them.
He poked his little finger into the lock’s keyhole. Indeed, absent of flesh the finger bone would be the right size.
Robin slipped his finger into his mouth, tasted salt and dirt. He pressed his teeth against the finger and felt pressure but not pain. He clenched his jaw tighter. His finger throbbed and stung. He bit down harder but before he could break the skin, his finger’s weight on the back of his tongue made him gag. He took his finger out and rubbed it, thinking this was proving more difficult than he had expected. He didn’t want to bite off the finger, he wanted to skin it. Were his teeth sharp enough?
His desperate ruminations were interrupted by the sound of a voice.
“Me. You.”
The hair on the back of Robin’s neck rose. He lifted his head and looked around. The gray light cast shadows on the walls and floor but he saw no one and nothing else in the room. Yet he distinctly heard someone speak.
“Me. You,” came the voice again. An unusual voice, not quite human yet the words were clear, unmistakable.
Robin shook his head. He must be hallucinating. The hunger, thirst, shock of his arrest, and fear of imminent and painful death must have loosened his mind. All this talk of sorcerers and familiars had planted ideas in his head. Still, he was certain he had heard someone speak.
Find it at:
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Author Spotlight: Queen of Spades
Author Spotlight of
Queen of Spades
Howdy! Thanks, Y. Correa, for inviting me. You sure do know how to make a Southern girl feel welcome!
Stop
on by! I never say “no” to good networking.
Greetings!
I am Queen of Spades, and I have been writing since I was
eleven years old. Originally, I planned on keeping my writings to
the confines of my early Creative Writing and English assignments or
for my own personal journaling. However, many of my teachers felt I
had something special, and I was made a writer of the McComb High
School newspaper Tiger Rags. I featured my poetry as well as
did interviews and editorials.
To me, the
Internet was one of the greatest things ever invented! I got a
chance to connect with others from all over who had the same passion
for writing as me. The Internet served as my writing’s transition
from “selected eyes” to “all access”. During this time, I
encountered someone. Our connection was love for all things written
and artistic. That person was my most powerful inspiration and I
wrote a series of poetry based on how moved I was by certain works.
It was completed in the span of three months back in 2003, a full two
years before I published my first work, Spaded Truths.
The bond
with that inspiration came to an abrupt end in 2008. I debated
whether to destroy the pieces, since I could not look at them in the
beginning without all of the negativity flowing back in. Yet, a
voice would whisper, “Queen, don’t do it.”
One day,
earlier this year, while doing some Spring cleaning, I discovered the
collection again. I realized while I was reading it, I didn’t feel
the old twinges of pain and anger. I had an overall appreciation for
the work and was very glad for the inspiration behind it. Although I
had taken a publishing hiatus in late 2006, I realized I still had
things I wanted to say. I also realized the only way I could
completely and constructively heal was to go ahead and publish the
work.
Reflections
of Soul is that work. It is my re-emergence into the publishing
realm. It is my return to “all access.”
Available
in Paperback at
and
Available
in e-book at
and
Blurb:
Inspiration is all around but what happens when
inspiration from one impacts facets of another's self? Reflections
of Soul takes one on this poetic
journey--a voyage coated in bittersweet waves: paying homage to the
inspiration while gaining necessary closure on the impact after the
bond met its' death.
Y. Correa's Review of "Reflections of Soul", by Queen of Spades:
"Reflections of Soul"...
Have you ever stopped and thought to yourself after reading a certain book about how well the title fit it?
If the answer is yes, than you will fully understand my review.
Queen of Spades' "Reflections of Soul" is exactly that.
As I read each poem, it was like staring into a looking glass. I could see me. But, not what was simply at the surface, I could see me... the real me! Each stanza was incredibly powerful in it's delivery. There was something so profound about her metaphoric writing.
Queen of Spades' "Reflections of Soul" is exactly that.
As I read each poem, it was like staring into a looking glass. I could see me. But, not what was simply at the surface, I could see me... the real me! Each stanza was incredibly powerful in it's delivery. There was something so profound about her metaphoric writing.
I kid you not, I could not stop the chills from flowing through me as I read on. There were some prose that etched themselves into my soul. For example:
1) "Awkward Moments"
"Today, you can't laugh away my woes,
so you listened and held me very tightly
and allowed my tears to flow"
2) "Butterfly"
"I see a butterfly I like to call Happiness"
3) "Faded Dreams"
"... alas, Reality is home"
The list can go on and on. It has been a long time since I'd encounter a Poet's works that hit home in such an absolute way. These ballads were like music to the inner me--to my soul.
Wonderful, magnificent work! Five stars!
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Author Spotlight
Dr. Amr Moneib
Requiem is a book about the fight between modernization and backwardness, the fight between us who wish for their own country to live as a part of a modern-world and those who want to pull it back to a medieval era.
I wrote this book while suffering each day trying to cope with those who resist all kinds of changes and trying to convince the people with the thickest heads there are that there is still some hope for a bright future.
While living and working as a doctor in Egypt, I met different types of people but nothing has separated us into two camps before like what the 2011 revolution has done. We defeated tyranny to find out that almost half of the people are pro a different kind of tyranny. They simply see the future of this country tied to nothing but medieval ideas that they invented and sanctified. They abused religion, human rights and democracy to let their greed take control of the whole country.
We saw nothing but women abuse, medieval constitution, abuse of religion, banning of websites, banning of English language teaching and trying to block the young minds that started the whole thing.
Through these days, Requiem was written. I wrote every part of that book venting against those who wanted to silence us and those who wanted to force us to live in a way our great grand fathers have ceased to live like hundreds of years ago. I try to tell my friends and readers that there is hope when we keep our country away from fanatics and crooks. I wish people would know that corruption will not cease until we try to work on basis of science and research, not on basis of hocus pocus.
Requiem is a set of everything; ideas, articles and short stories. I like to think that the book is a shout out from a young revolutionary against those who killed dreams and nurtured hatred in a country that endured for thousands of years what no other place could ever match.
Like Requiem on Facebook
Follow Requiem on twitter @therequiembook
Rate Requiem on Goodreads.com
Y. Correa's Review of "Requiem" by Dr. Amr Moneib
When I first picked up this book and began to read it, I was at a bit of a loss. It seemed to have been written like a screen play, and though fairly well written, it almost seemed lacking somehow. I realize now, that I felt this way because I was not fully understanding it.
Oh how quickly did I change my mind. Once I realized that this was a complication of several entries which created the final product, my entire manner of reading it changed. I was aware of every change of emotion in each individual entry.
* Some, short stories.
* Some, thoughts.
* Some, journal entries.
All however, revolving around one main subject--the desire for freedom. The hope for a better future and the current suffering of a people blinded by unfair and unreasonable laws.
I was reminded of the Pharisees. So many people that viewed themselves as holy and righteous, whom in turn delegated laws bordering on perverse to a people striving to abide by them lest they lose their life.
A few entries stuck with me and made a profound impact.
1) "Requiem for Rokaya" A little girl born into a world which dubbed her as misfortune and punishment to her parents, simply because she was a female. Forced to endure torments the likes of which no child should have to bear.
2) "The Pursuit of Sadness" A person chased by the inescapable. Destiny. And what was this individuals destiny according to the laws that surrounded them? Hardship and suffering.
3) "Sleeping with Nightmares On" To any sane person, within his/her rational mind, this conversation between a doctor and his patient would make absolutely no sense whatsoever. Yet, THAT was exactly the point.
All in all, this book was well put together, the prose well expressed, the point and aim well developed and achieved. If you are a person that is looking into wanting to learn more about a culture you know nothing about, I honestly recommend this book. It's a journey in which you delve into the mind of the author and see his culture through his own eyes.
Great book! 4 stars!
Questioning a fellow Author's Integrity...
Anyone that knows me, knows this.
1) I am a kind and giving person, that does things for others never expecting anything in return.
2) I am an integral and dignified person, always doing me best to be the best I can be, and try to surround myself with like minded people. I'm honest and genuine.
3) I SUPPORT AUTHORS & the writing community!!
Now before I get started on the details of this post, here are a few details you should know.
1) In my attempt to support authors and this cause, I offer a wide array of service FOR FREE!
* Why free? Because in offering my services free I am able to freely express my honest opinion, keep my integrity, offer real advise, keep my divinity untarnished as in so doing I will not be dubbed a "Sell-out" and people cannot say that I did X & Y for the money. This also makes me a trustworthy individual.
* I also find that in offering free services and help to authors, it is beneficial for them as well.
2) One of the many services I offer are 'Read & Review's'. For this I have a select group of like minded individuals whom help and assist me in these reviews. Integral women and authors, who like me, simply want to help.
* Per my submission guidelines, the reviews that we give are HONEST. Now, "honest" does not always equal "good" Honest, is honest. Period.
* Since we have a high volume of submissions, though we try, we do not always guarantee that we will all read the same book at the same time. So in the attempt to be more efficient, at times my board member may be reading different stories/books than I. Yet, all stories/books are the ones submitted and are read in order of submission, AND we keep our promise to read & review the book(s) submitted.
* My review board and myself are open to multiple genres! We read almost any genre. Period.
~~~~~
Okay, now that that has been said, here is what happened...
Author James McAllister submitted his story "The Best Laid Plans" to us for review. When his book came up in line, I sent it out to the other 3 members of my team to read, as I was bombarded by other works (things I was doing for the writing community, mind you! FOR FREE!), for whatever reason one of my reviewers had received an illegible copy and I was unable to read the book. That left 2 reviewers.
So, I thought to myself, "Well 2 reviews are better than 1."
A few days passed and I heard back from both reviewers telling me that the story was very difficult to follow, and simply put, not all that good. But they both promised to push through it.
* SIDE NOTE: A week prior to this, I (myself) had read the authors first book and since I genuinely liked it, I gave him a good review. AND, a Author Spotlight on my blog to boot.*
A day or two later, I finally got some time on my hands to pick up the book and start reading it for myself. In all truth, the book was inundated with technobabble, details of things that did not require such detailing, and not enough detail on things that needed it the most.
I admit, I (personally) made it to Chapter 5 then called it quits because this story had no real firmament and the plot and back story were all over the place, thus leaving me in a more than confused state.
So, I thought to myself, "I've already given a review on his other book, and rather than tarnish his reputation as an author, it's best to not say anything at all," After all, my mother always said, "If you don't have anything nice to say, than don't say anything at all"... I simply had nothing good to say about this story.
So, as I had already reviewed his other book, helped promote his work in a great many ways (FOR FREE, MIND YOU... not asking for anything in return), I felt that me not leaving a bad review (as I couldn't honestly give a good one) was more than fair.
The next day, I touched base with the other 2 reviewers. Both tell me that they are having the same difficulty as I and I give them the option of moving forward with the read and leave a review, if the so desire, or if (like me) they could not say anything pleasant about the story, to set it aside and move onto the next book, as (once again) we (as a whole) did not want to hinder the authors reputation.
1 of my girls opted to set it aside, the other opted to press on. For that, I give her props! It took heart and will-power! I thought to myself "1 is better than none."
A day or 2 pass by and my reviewer contacts me and says that she'd read the story almost completely, excluding a few pages (1 or 2 at the most) and was ready to give her review. She sent her review to me for approval, as is accustomed. I do this to ensure that no harsh or disrespectful are said.
Her review was not a good one, but she was specific in pointing out the details which she felt were lacking in a very respectful manner, offering constructive critique. I gave her the go ahead and she posted her review.
That evening an infuriated and appalled Mr. McAllister emails me to Goodreads.com and proceeds to insult my group and myself. Rising allegations that I purposefully gave his book to a person that did not like sci-fi, therefore did not read past the 1st Chapter and insulted him in her review. He was rude in his email.
I responded in turn and very professionally stated the terms of our review process which is all indicated upon submission. I also told him that my reviewer did indeed read past the 1 Chapter of his book and she formulated her review accordingly. The man was not accepting of this and proceeded to send me several offensive emails. Back and forth the emails went. All the while, I was being professional and standing my ground, and standing by the fair review that was given by my board member.
His last email to me was extremely offensive, and at that time I threw all professionalism out the window and let him have it. Okay, I admit that that was wrong of me, but I am only human.
Mr. McAllister refused to accept this and proceeded to visit all of my websites and slander our review board. Accusing us of purposefully giving him a bad review. That our integrity and honesty were at question, and so on. He would not let up.
I was forced to ban him from my webpages. Following are some photos of our conversation. Please be aware, that I am only showing the photo's of MY end of the conversation, as apparently Mr. McAllister had another fiasco with my reviewer on her end as well, emailing her with rude and obnoxious comments.
So, why am I blogging about this? Because if you cannot take constructive criticism and want your ego stroked than my review board is not for you. As stated in our submission guidelines; we give HONEST reviews.
It's so sad to say that once I'd gotten his first email, I instinctively knew that I could not put slander past him. I knew it was coming!
Alright people... What do you think??
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Author Spotlight
G. Mitchell Baker
I REALLY LIKE WRITING ORIGINAL AND INTERESTING STORIES…
I really like writing. It is what I do. My fundamental criteria when creating and writing a story is to be both original and interesting. I have written a lot since 1997 and now share some of the results after much of the hard work.
When I decided to publish, I quickly had a five-year deal with one traditional publisher and a three-year deal with a second traditional publisher both signed within 30 days of one another. Those books are now out-of-print with a lot learned since those experiences.
“What is G Mitchell Baker doing now?” you ask?
Well, with perseverance and the fortune of great company, there have been two 2013 releases of my paranormal/metaphysical visionary novels in the Lethal Believers Series to critical acclaim (The Innocents and DVM). The Innocents recently achieved Amazon Bestseller’s status in 2013. In addition, I now learn my publisher, Master Koda Select Publishing, has acquired and added: (1) my first contemporary fiction novel in the Emerson’ Series (‘Involvement’ re-release); and, (2) my young adult family values novel, Soccer Tommies Baseball Mommies to round out the Master Koda Select Publishing List for 2013. For such a year in publishing, this author is very grateful.
I also learned, Master Koda confirmed the addition of: (1) my second contemporary fiction novel in the Emerson Series (‘Consistency’ new release). Master Koda has also committed to the first novel in a young adult biosocial science fiction Adaptable Neo-Nature Technology or ‘ANNT’ series; and, will be publishing the third paranormal novel in the Lethal Believers Series (‘Cave Ravens’). Four novels in three genres acquired and released for 2013 and three novels in three genes acquired and scheduled for release on the Master Koda select Publishing List for 2014!
So … “What happened with G Mitchell Baker after all the hard work, after all the effort to produce original and interesting work?” you ask? Well I am still writing and striving to produce original and interesting stories … After all, I really like writing. It is what I do, and, my goal is to continue writing original and interesting stories for all to enjoy.
Oh, and keeping in mind I have such wonderful people to work with … I must always remember how Blessed, and lucky fellow I am! Please accept my many thanks and appreciation to every one of you who support, and who continue to support my efforts to write original and interesting stories. Perhaps my own story is the most original and interesting of all, but I think I will stick to writing fiction. Besides, who would believe all this anyway? I know I am still having a hard time believing this dream! *winking*
Can this all really be happening because I really like writing and my goal is to continue writing original and interesting stories for all to enjoy? You bet! I leave you now, with many Cheers, and, with Warmest Regards and Encouragement,
All the Very Best,
G. Mitchell Baker
P.S. And please, do not forget to visit me in my ‘Anything But a Tired Barn’ when you get a chance… It is my Author Website, where you can find readers, authors and friends poking around with me, having some fun… http://www.gmitchellbakerauthor.com/index.html
Excerpt:
Pagosa Springs, Colorado
The air is colder now, but neither Danta nor Emerine feel it. There is too much at stake, too much adrenalin flowing through their combatant veins. “I don’t know,” stutters Emerine, “I can’t understand any of it anymore.”
Danta repeats. “You do not ‘know’ what exactly?”
* * *
“It is no longer about the angels and vultures, my friend,” Danta taunts, referring to the characters in the folktale about Little Angels Emerine shared with him not-so-long-ago. “This is no longer just about lying to God. There is the behavioral analysis, our profiling. Behavior reflects personality, the forensics, the dead telling their tales, the living telling their lies. You are a radical, a terrorist, a violator of The Innocents. You will be held accountable.”
Panicking upon hearing of Danta’s intentions, Emerine bursts from the hallway, the first to reach the garden rotunda. There, the low light casts blue gray shadows against the broken green foliage. “You are trying to drive me insane,” shouts Emerine, the desperation in her voice echoing, “Like you did to her!”
* * *
“She was,” Emerine agrees to what she can. “Pauline was so alone, so lonely.”
Danta continues, “A soft recruit for you, perhaps a target for extortion … at first.”
Advancing, Danta now stands over Emerine, relentlessly hovering over the cowering, shivering woman in what display of power can now only be considered as crossing over into the realm of surly abuse, his voice rising. “You targeted my wife!”
Emerine protests, “The public record of the divorce confirmed her loss, clearly identifying you, the INTERPOL officer bent on preserving his clearances. She was giving you everything to preserve your secretive career, a career that could not tolerate a spouse with the onset of a wife’s evolving dementia.”
“No-fault divorce papers,” Danta explains, “are those papers that do not describe anything like that of which you suggest. Indeed, the notion of divorce can be as simple as claims made at no fault. However, the truth is, my dear Emerine, the system is premised on notions of what to do with the mythical warrior and provider, once they have all decided they can’t get along.”
“What are you talking about?” Emerine shifts in the planter, but maintains her look of superior disposition. Emerine does not shiver. The cold air appears to have no effect.
“You think you know me through my divorce,” Danta remains calm. “I’m explaining why that is likely impossible. You see, divorce triggers this insane process for undermining the role of the man, who is supposed to be the warrior, the provider. The system is set up to transfer all the power in the relationship to the woman, the Madonna, or princess, whatever the case may be. The system is oriented to undermine, to weaken the warrior, to exploit the provider and to transfer wealth to the woman, while still expecting the man to continue providing, even after the lawful castration is complete.”
Danta pauses, contemplating his callus opinion. “It really is so counterintuitive.”
“What has any of that got to do with anything?” demands Emerine.
“Well, isn’t that what you set out to do?” Danta posits. “I mean, to take me, the warrior in your midst, the provider of protection for The Innocents and to undermine my role for protecting them, rendering me obsolete … to perhaps dispatch me?”
“Are you suggesting we are going through some kind of divorce?” Emerine balks, astonished Danta would allow for such a mock suggestion.
“No,” Danta replies, still standing over Emerine, “I am suggesting you were going to kill me and you chose to turn--”
“Kill you?”
“Indeed,” Danta continues. “You have come at me in that spirit, as if to accomplish much the same thing, to extinguish me. Would you not agree?”
* * *
“What do you mean?”
“Yes,” Danta continues. “He knew you had something more to bring to him. He could sense it; he could smell it like any good predator will.”
“How do you know all this?” questions Emerine.
“He knew shortly after your first meeting with my wife,” Danta calculates. “He knew enough about your meeting her through The Innocents group.” Danta pauses, appearing to reminisce about the community organization he helped start when the years long ago were more meaningful. “And then the meeting with me, perchance,” Danta observes. “He knew you were putting something together. Predators cannot only smell they can taste their prey if it is close enough. The senses employed by predators are really quite remarkable. The sensors they have, the tiger’s carotid sensors above its incisors,” Danta takes in a deep breath. “But then again, I do digress.”
Emerine is quiet, and so still.
“But is it not marvelous,” Danta grins a majestic grin. “The drive produced by such vision of the anticipated kill. It is so interesting. Long before there is available prey, there’s the very fantasy of the kill that motivates to overcome lingering hungers.”
“It was like that,” confesses Emerine, the colloquy now strangely appealing.
* * *
“Or,” Emerine remains steely calm, delivering her counter position, “is it that you are now trying to drive me crazy, like you did to your dear Pauline?”
The verbal spear hits Danta in the heart, impaling, stalling any momentum achieved in the course of his harsh interrogation. Brought to his knees emotionally with one fell lunge of her sword, any feeling Danta may have experienced until that moment ceases. Wincing outwardly, but subconsciously acting to regain a measure of outward stoicism, Danta tries to gather himself as Emerine rises, starting for the garden rotunda. Walking casually through the open garden, still dimly lit to reveal eerie greenery, Emerine again attempts to flee her past, her present, and perhaps at least some of her future, but cannot.
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