Jason, Erin, and the other Zebras go on a world
tour with their enchanted instruments, only to encounter the mysterious
supernatural Folk of India and the Far East. While they tangle with
their record company, Erin tries to avoid dealing with the secrets she's
learned about herself, while Jason pieces together a mystery
surrounding a very special golden guitar called Caliburn.
Faerie, Aoide the Lutist and her troupe finally return home from their
long adventure. They're struggling to get new gigs, but Aoide senses
opportunity in the form of special new magic mirrors that can broadcast
concerts, plays, and other entertainment all over Faerie...
Christian David Hunt, the illegitimate son of
the Late Squire Hunt, is on his own in London in the mid-1750's, trying
to make a go of life on the pitiful allowance his half-sister and
brother-in-law allow him while his case sits in the courts waiting for a
hearing. Even though his father raised him to be the next Squire of
Huntington Downs, his brother-in-law has other plans for the estate. With
only his bumbling man-servant, Thomas Boone Partridge, to help him, he
cannot avoid getting into trouble right quickly in the city. His
wandering eye for the ladies and his inability to budget his money lands
him in the sticky web of a wealthy married woman who happens to be the
wife of a baronet. Forced into her company by his desperate need of
money enough to wait out the court's decision concerning his heredity,
his situation becomes extremely complicated in short order. He
inadvertently causes the death of a young man enamored of his landlady's
daughter who has, unfortunately, set her cap on marrying David Hunt.
back at the Hunt estate in the country, his neighbor and late father's
best friend, Squire Summerlin forbids his daughter, Lydia, with whom
David is madly in love from seeing him and sends her off to France. By
the time Lydia can escape back to London where her beloved waits for
her, he is embroiled in a juicily public affair with Lady Hornsworthy.
Not only is his reputation completely ruined by his association with the
'good' Lady, the dead man's older brother has come to town seeking
revenge with a mind to make David Hunt suffer as much as possible.
Hornsworthy arranges a fine marriage for the heartbroken Lydia with her
father's consent to her well-heeled cousin, the portly, middle-aged
Lord Barrington. Enter Lady Hornsworthy's beautiful, but precocious
young niece, Lucinda who seems bent upon tormenting David to death while
he tries desperately to stay alive long enough to straighten out his
life. Lucinda, however, has a surprising motive for her puzzling
The story has many twists and turns, humor, misadventures,
and frustrating situations begging for resolution. It is written in
honor of the English writer, Henry Fielding, author of the eighteenth
century bawdy comedic novel "The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling" and
as such is both a Bildungsroman (coming-of-age story) and a Picaresque
novel (comedic romance). The themes are adult romance, but are rather
more suggestive than erotic and suitable for YA readers.
Supernatural activity is on the rise, and yet
humanity is blissfully unaware. Lonely demon hunter Atticus Foster meets
a peculiar man in a bar one night, and together they start their work -
a partnership to track, hunt, and kill the things that go bump in the
night. But there are dark forces at play, and shadowy fingers woven into
everything. The fabric of the reality they know is shredding. The
darkness is sweeping in, and as Atticus and her partner gather more like
them, they become aware that on the horizon, as it all comes falling
down, there is something coming...
Adepts: Gathering by J.J.C. Marcoh is a fantastic book filled with
intense emotions. Atticus Foster may appear a bit gruff and cold, but
she's a deep and caring character far beyond what I was expecting. The
lore in this book is interesting. The mythological entities are not as
unreachable as you might find in other fantasy novels. These beings are
presented as people. Not humans, of course, but people - powerful
people. I like that this allows for the characters to interact with them
on a more personal level.
would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in other urban
fantasy such as The Dresden Files or Sandman Slim. It is a good addition
to the genre and I look forward to future books from this author.
THE NINTH DISTRICT
features FBI Special Agent Jack Miller who finds himself up against the
toughest opponent of his career. The Federal Reserve has never been
robbed and Jack means to keep it that way.
Shawn Hopkins' A MAN OVERBOARD is a thriller, spy, espionage and love story all rolled into one novel. I think this is Shawn's breakout novel.
John R Kess' ELLY'S GHOST is a multi-layered outdoor adventure thriller that I really enjoyed. John's proven to be a fantastic story teller.
If you are interested in any of these books you can click below. Double check that they are still free before downloading.
Spinster Eden Beckett has a full life with her
gardening, painting and keeping an eye on her willful younger sister
Zoë. Into her world comes Seth, adopted son of the Duke of Derwent,
looking for a bride for the duke’s son. Though passions ignite between
Seth and Eden, each must obey a primary duty. And Eden will protect her
sister from the rakehell marquess if she can. Regency Romance by Anne
Barbour; originally published by Signet
I have not yet read this one, but I have met the author and have heard her read some of her other writing. I love it all and this one (and all the other Anne Barbour titles) are on my To Be Read list.
I lost my mother back in 2005. I still love her more than I can describe. I know, if she were still here, I'd be doing this for her. So, what's to stop me now? She may not be here physically, but she is still with me and around me in every thing I do, everything I see and even in my laugh. I see her in my children, my brothers, my father and even in my husband. She was a very special lady.
I could write a huge piece about my mother and might do that someday, but today I am just going to celebrate her with a Happy Birthday, Mom and probably a cake that I will share with the whole family (as we've done every year since her death.)
Not sure those who are above us in Heaven take the time to read blogs, but I do believe they have an understanding of how they are missed.
My father wrote her a poem that I will share with you.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
I love you!
On March 17th
of this year, 2005, our family got the devastating news that my wife Edy had
lung cancer.According to the
doctors, the situation was of a terminal nature and she was given only nine
months to live.Their prognosis
was fairly accurate and she passed away on the 20th of November.
I watched her get
progressively worse day after day but the children and I tried to keep her
hopes of survival up by avoiding the assumption of death.One must maintain hope and a positive
attitude along with treatment, if one is to survive.
There comes a time
when it becomes obvious that the chance of a cure or long-term survival is
essentially gone.Although the
family and I had reached that conclusion, she continued to have faith and
fight.That situation made it
difficult to tell her goodbye and of our deep love for her.It was at that point that I decided to
try to tell her how I felt by writing her a story.
I told her of my
intention and thought I might read it to her before the end came.It didn’t work out that way.She passed away before I could finish
and she was in a semi-conscious state during that last week of her life so I
missed the opportunity to say a final goodbye.
The story that
follows is my way of answering a question that Edy put to me a couple of times
in the thirty-eight years we were together.When we were about to be married, she asked me if I minded
being married by a Lutheran pastor.I told her that it would be fine and she then asked me, “What do you
Several years later,
we decided to make out a will to safe-guard our children in the case of our
deaths.During the discussion she
asked me again what I believed as to religion and death.
I never answered her
questions, mainly because I was not sure then nor am I all that sure now, and I
thought it might be a good time to give her an answer in those final days of
Having said all of
the above, Edy’s story follows:
The full moon’s
bright light cast sharp shadows in the sacred circle of stones.This early in the spring of the year
the nights were cool and the light breeze sucked away what little warmth the
hooded cape provided.He followed
in the footsteps of the old priest, with each step getting harder to take, as
he approached the lone individual standing in the center of the Druid circle.
The priest leads him
through old Druid stones
As those about him some
Dread’s cold hand slowed
For on this night in
this cold dark place
For the first time he’d
come face to face
With one to be his bride
silhouetted by a full moon, her dark hair stirring in the light breeze.The torchlight brought her face into
view, strong features and straight lines softened by the warm colors of the
fire.The young man’s breath
caught in his throat.This was no
great beauty that he faced, but rather a simple peasant girl.Still, to him, all other women ceased
to matter.She spoke.She smiled.He loved.
Silhouette carved by a
full moon bright
Strong features soft
from the warm torchlight
The young man caught his
He stood before her his
His soul soared upward.
She smiled. He loved
Forever his ‘til death
He held her hand as
she lay dying and he thought back to that first time he saw her many years
before.He had known from that
first night that she was to be his forever.How short a time forever turned out to be.As her breathing stilled and her face
softened from the lack of pain and life, his world turned gray and a light went
out in his eyes.
The old man sat there
He held her hand as she
Forever he would grieve
As breathing stilled and
Death took her soul
The light of his life
Death also stole
Something whispers Believe
—Death is but a River—
His nose hurt and he could taste the blood as it flowed across his
lips.The big boy sat astride his
chest pinning his arms down with his knees.Another blow was being aimed at his swollen nose when a
small hand reached in and grabbed a handful of hair on the big boy’s head.
With a bloody nose and a
But the big boy couldn’t
make him cry
Such was his stubborn
A voice irate “Let him
up, you lout”
A small hand waves a big
She could not be denied
The boys all scattered leaving him lying there with a dirty face and
a bloody nose.He was looking up
at a mop of curly red hair and freckles on a girl no bigger than a minute.
Red hair, freckles, and
eyes a deep blue
A curious face that
smiled at you
That face a pure delight
Her smile seemed to open
up a door
That said they had met
On some long distant
As he looked into her startling blue eyes, all the pain went
away.All of a sudden, everything
was all right.In his short twelve
years he had never seen anyone prettier.He felt like he had known her forever.
“You better learn how to fight,” she scolded
Her bright blue eyes
took his pain away
Twas like going home to
Past visions dimly seen
“Learn to fight,
whatever else you do”
He nodded.“Someday I’ll fight for you”
A future unclear seen
For seven fine and
full years the two were inseparable.Finally, families had agreed and, with dowry offered and paid, the two
were married.The young man had
grown to good size and was a respected and valued fighting man of Waterford’s
At nineteen years with a
brand new wife
He answered the call of
his Guard’s fife
Strong her words as he
“Fight for our people
and fight for me”
Pinned to his Jerkin for
all to see
Her favor guards his
In that year of 1169 a small force under
Raymond le Gros landed at Baginbun, near Bannow, and immediately routed a
strong army of Irishmen and Norsemen from Waterford, inspiring the couplet:
"At the creek of
Ireland was lost and
He lay on the field of battle before
Waterford.“Fight for our
people.Fight for me”, she had
said.Now he would die for
her.As his vision dimmed, his
only regret was that he would never see her again.He whispers her name and the Irish monk beside him says,
He lay cold before the
town’s main gate
Quiet, a hooded monk
sits and waits
As his life slips away
His vision dims and he
calls her name
He breathes, “I’ll never
see her again”
The monk begins to pray
The monk bends close to
the young man’s ear
“Be at peace my friend.
There is naught to fear
You have no need to
The monk whispers,
“There is no never
Remember, death is just
You simply must Believe”
he slips into the lonely dark he seems to see a dark haired woman in a circle
of stone and the smile of a redheaded lass.A look of content and he was gone.
As the young man bleeds
away life’s spark
And he slips into the
One last thing caught
He clearly sees with his
Something that warms the
cold sting of death
Then contented, he died
A vision seen as through
The sweet smile of a
And someone stood behind
with hair wind-blown
A dark haired woman,
circle of stone
Somehow the two entwined
And dimly seen, a far
Where a lady waits with
She beckons from afar
‘It’s time to come home’
she seems to say
‘If you believe, you
will find your way
Led by a sailor’s star’
—On the River flows—
On the river of time the years and generations glide past.There one can see a collage of scenes
that are years apart and seemingly unrelated.
She sits and waits on her cliff facing the sea for her man to come
home his ship long overdue from its trip to the Americas.For many long years she waited; her
love she’d not let go.
She sat alone on her bench each evening wrapped in her woolen shawl,
as the sun dropped into the sea.Waiting, forever waiting, searching for the star that would guide her
man home.The sound of the
crashing surf and the breeze from the sea seems to whisper ‘Believe’
They found her there one morning, her twenty-three year vigil over,
her waiting at an end.
I remember telling my mother, when I was but age ten, that I would
not marry until I was thirty years old.I can still recall my solid conviction that this was true.I didn’t know then why I was so sure of
that statement.It was not until
many years later that I began to think that I might know the answer as to the
why of such a claim.
Through grade school, high school and several years after, I was not
one to be comfortable around women.It was not that I was shy but rather I couldn’t bring myself to
participate in the social games the young played.It all seemed so shallow.It was as though I was looking for something or waiting for
something to happen.
Twenty-seven years and
Where his life was
headed, still unknown
No goal for which to aim
With too much to drink,
all night café
Occurred that which took
his gloom away
Edy the lady’s name
She took his order her
Made something inside
his mind connect
Vision briefly perceived
And other women from
time long past
A distant voice Believe
there is the story I said I would write for you.I have to apologize for the fact that I cannot find an
ending. The story remains
unfinished and I suspect that this is as it should be. You asked me once and
twice before just what did I believe.I tell you now, though you are not here to hear,
Darrell Steiner is a middle-aged music
journalist caught between his magazine's corporate takeover and a
disintegrating marriage. Forced to prove his relevance in an
ever-changing music industry, he is assigned to cover a small-time heavy
metal band, Numb Skull, for an ill-fated tour through the Midwest. Numb
Skull's music is loud, their lyrics pedestrian, and their dreams of the
wild rock and roll life drive every decision. Darrell, however, begins
to see the assignment as the death knell of his career, helpless on the
road while his wife shacks up with his brother.
The makers of
Fluffer, the adult energy drink, have gotten into the music business,
culminating in the annual Fluffer Music Festival in Chicago. Numb Skull
has earned a slot to play at the festival but the band struggles to keep
the tour from derailing after a series of mishaps, while Darrell
wrestles with his personal and professional lives, finding himself both
burdened and sheltered by the road.
Dan Schell writes:
After two decades of publishing poetry, I have recently released my first novel, The Road toFluffer,in both paperback and ebook formats. It's a funny, wild ride through the Midwest USA with a struggling music journalist and a merry band of rock and roll malcontents he is assigned to cover.
In the Fall of 1955, the state of Nevada used the electric chair to execute a prisoner for the first time.
It was also the last time.
Blackburn, nicknamed Jane the Ripper by the Las Vegas press after
killing eleven men while posing as a prostitute, was strapped to the
chair without incident. The switch was flipped.
Everything after that went horribly wrong.
that day, a copycat Jane the Ripper has appeared almost every decade in
a different city, mimicking Molly's choice in victims as well as her
methods of murder. She kills eleven men then disappears, never to be
found. The similarities between the bodies left behind each decade is
uncanny. As if they are all the victims of the same murderer, not a
But that's impossible, of course, because Molly Blackburn is dead, her execution witnessed by a dozen people.
Agent Jack Shaw, the lead investigator in the Jane the Ripper cases
since the seventies, finally catches a break in 2009 when the intended
fifth victim manages to turn the tables on the newest copycat . Everyone
believes that the horror has finally ended with her capture. Shaw is
not so sure, though, wondering if someone else will take up the mantle
and kill seven more men to complete the cycle. But when no more bodies
with her distinctive markings show up over the next two years, Shaw
allows himself to believe that maybe he has seen the end of the Jane the
As it turns out, what he thought was the end was only the beginning.
hunt will take him across the country, and even when he thinks he's
finally discovered the truth, he quickly learns that not everything is
as it seems.
That not every monster is created equal.
That the nature of good and evil is not as black and white as he has always believed.
That not everything that is broken can be put back together.
That not every fractured soul can be saved.
When blood, smoke and ashes rise, no one comes out the same on the other side.
Blood, Smoke and Ashes is a 115,00 word supernatural thriller/horror
Andre de Laurent is the second son of an
extremely wealthy family, which basically means he’ll always be number
two. That is, until his mother’s uncle dies and leaves him a
multi-billion-dollar fortune. So what’s the trouble? Andre has sixty
days to take a wife, and he’ll have to remain married for one year or
forfeit the inheritance to distant relatives—who are hell-bent on
claiming the inheritance as their own.
Aspiring actress Tasha
Gordon has never wanted anything quite so much as that big break—until
she met Andre de Laurent. Could his offer turn out to be the role of