Mystery Thriller Week 2017 – A fan / reviewer’s thoughts by Kim Hunter

The 11th to 22nd February 2017 I disappeared!  I only left my computer chair to take care of necessities, one of which was NOT sleep!

I heard about the event in November 2016 after joining a book review blog.  Not realising what I was getting myself into, I agreed to read and review as many books as I could so that these reviews could be posted during the event in February 2017. I ended up reading / listening to 12 books by the end of January and had the reviews scheduled for posting during the week of the event.   This part was hardly a sacrifice as the authors very generously gave audio or electronic copies to the readers wanted to review them.   What I did not realise was how interactive the event was to be!

There were many live events during the extended week – this gave those interested an opportunity to learn more about the art of writing, to question authors and other players in the industry.  However, most started from about 10pm my time, so I spent many sleepless nights chatting, not sleeping.  Oh, the sacrifices we make…….!  I’m sure that some of the authors felt as I did as they were participating from all over the world too.   However, it was an opportunity not to be missed and I was there as often as possible.  There were many give-away’s and I have a TBR pile of note!

From my point of view, the event was about exposing readers to new authors and authors to new readers.  It certainly achieved this for me.  I discovered the existence of ‘cozy mysteries’ and have now decided that I am not a great fan of gruesome thrillers or horror stories!  I met the author Barbara Venkataramen during this event – a writer of cozy mysteries.  I love the conciseness of her writing – the whole plot is developed and solved in about four hours of reading.  This means that you can take a Sunday afternoon and feel like you have read a 400 page novel (I am not a speed reader BTW!) with all the characters coming to life in an environment you can envision and a mystery solved in a short space of time.  Spectacular!  This is a new genre for me and I will be looking for more cozy mysteries to read.

Another of my favourite authors, Susan May, also participated.  I always find her amusing and informative.  CJ Petterson and Sarah Key were two other authors who willingly gave of their time – each trying to make the event interesting in different ways for the participants.  I can honestly say that they succeeded.  For the many other authors and book people who participated (simply too many for me to list), I, as a reader, need to give you my thanks.  Your participation made the event fun, interesting and worthwhile.  The orgainsers added a few competitions along the way so that bloggers could be discovered and followed, and authors read via the prizes they donated.

Will I participate next year? ABSOLUTELY.  I’ll stock up on caffeine drinks and exercise my fingers in advance, for getting to chat with people who have the courage and perseverance to write and publish the stories we are privileged to be able to read, is priceless.

Kim Hunter

Tangowithtext.com

Thank you to Kim Hunter for participating in Friday's Fun and Family-Friendly Guest Posts. Kim, you are welcome to participate any time. 

EURYALE by Stephen Perkins for Friday's Fun and Family Friendly Guest Posts

Copyright 2017/Star born publishing LTD. This is a work of fiction, a product of the author's imagination and cannot be reproduced without express permission. Any similarity between the created characters and persons now living or deceased is purely coincidental.

EURYALE

(Iraq, near Mosul, 2003, Operation Desert Storm)

Bullet riddled, brittle and broken, he awoke, prone upon a blood-soaked Iraqi dune. Astonished, Dow found a shepherd girls soft, healing hands everywhere upon him, drawing out the pain. Until, he was magically whole again.

Lethargic lids slid open.

From the zenith of a cloudless blue canopy, a merciless sun scorched drowsy eyes. Possessing some strange power, the mysterious girl had seemingly rescued him from death’s fiery darkness.

“Who are you,” Sergeant Dow said. “Where are you from?”

Slowly, she removed the black burqa, serene smile blooming upon angelic features. Dow’s stubble strewn face riddled with wonder. He felt her soft reply flow into the brain like the waters of a trickling brook. And yet, crimson lips made no attempt to form syllables.

“I am Euryale. You shall soon know where to find me. And, I shall be waiting!”

Up over the horizon, Dow heard the whining rotors of a helicopter, and shielding his eyes from the sun, turned to look.

“But how will I…” he said, turning back, anticipating her sweet gaze.

But, Euryale had mysteriously disappeared.     

***

Flown back to the green zone in Mosul, Dow reported to Colonel Stansfield Booth.

Walking through the office door, steely hazel eyes looked right through him.

It was as if the old man, hat decked with ‘scrambled eggs’, and more medals hung on his immaculate uniform than ornaments on the Sergeant’s Christmas tree back home in Omaha, possessed vision boring right through the skin, straight to the soul beneath.

Sitting in front of the colonel’s enormous desk, Dow felt his parched throat gulp. Blood wildly throbbing, he realized this was the moment of truth. His career in the US Marine Corps was on the line. He knew old man Booth, an iron chinned full bird colonel, wasn’t likely to believe the truth. Or, would he? How best explain the unexplainable, about Euryale, the simple shepherd girl brought him miraculously back from death’s inevitable brink?

Sergeant Dow’s pulse raced, skin growing hot as if he were standing in a burning building. His arid throat gulped again. Now, Dow considered, I must tread carefully. The old man might even decide to throw me in the brig. Maybe, even court marshaled.

Outside, the colonel’s spartan office, night blanketed the sun baked terrain of the Iraqi desert wastes.

The old man’s deep baritone ruptured the thick silence like a fog horn.  

“Alright, Sergeant,” the old man’s deep baritone rumbled. “Out of nine men sent to find the insurgents outside the Green zone destroyed ammo and weapons dumps last week near Mosul, including your squadron commander, Captain Welsh-only you survived,” the colonel detailed.

Puzzlement etched Dow’s rugged features.

The Colonel seemed almost disappointed.    

Dread buzzed in the Sergeant’s brain like angry wasps.

Sweat beaded his darkened brow.

“It was almost like they were waiting for us, Sir,” Dow’s mid-western drawl wobbled. “These insurgents were clever,” he tried to explain, with more urgency. “They had some sniper hiding in the hills. Picked us off one by one. I suggested to Welsh we retreat, and hump it back to recon. Let the helicopter gun-ships turn those hills into a parking lot!”  

The Sergeant fidgeted, wanting desperately to tell the old man what most of the squadron had really thought of Captain Welsh, some high-hat Ivy grad just out of officers training-dressed up to play hero in some Marine recruiting video.

“I tried to tell him sir, once the action started getting too hot, how we should’ve humped it back here double time,” Dow tried to plead. “But, like I said these insurgents were smart. They seemed to know how to hit us and when, like they had a game plan-knocked out our vehicles, our satellite and ground communications destroyed. They were waiting for us!”

The colonel tapped steel boned fingers on the desk.

“Go on Sergeant?”

“It was like they could read our minds, what we were going to do,” Dow replied. “These weren’t, well, I got a good look at them sir!”

Dow scraped a trembling hand over his sweat slicked pate. Booth poked a button on the desktop red telephone.

“And, what did you observe, Sergeant,” Booth demanded.

Dow sensed the old man already knew the answer.

“These were no regular insurgents, sir,” Dow stammered. “Their weaponry was anything but conventional!”

The poker faced old man merely pursed his stern lips, steel boned chin bobbing once in acknowledgment. The red phone buzzed, and Dow’s trembling hands gripped sweat soaked face.

“Excuse me, Sergeant,” the old man related.

Dow looked up, cruel shadow casting over. Booth’s ursine frame rose out of the chair to full height. Deliberate and heavy steps tapped towards an adjacent black door.

“Colonel,” a civilian bureaucrat greeted Booth as the door thudded shut behind. “As you know, Operation Desert Storm is highly classified. This war on terror is merely a cover for testing these AI ‘super units’ out in the field. Lately, my Pentagon colleagues are not pleased with the less than stellar ‘collateral damage’ statistics. I’m holding you personally responsible for this glaring failure!”

The old Colonel stood at ease, stone faced while the berating bureaucrat sat half-shrouded in darkness.

“Now,” the bureaucrat snapped. “You are dismissed!”

With his ear settled close to the keyhole, Dow scurried for the office door. Somehow, he had to find Euryale. Sprinting towards the collection of Jeeps, he raced off into the night.

His career, life, would never be the same.

Swirls of dust kicked up in the wake of the racing Jeep. Now, well outside the Green Zone, he jammed the breaks and skidded to a stop.

There she was, Euryale, illuminated in the spill of the headlights

“Are you ready to come with me?”

The words floated like butterflies in the mind.

Softly, he took her hand, basking in her angelic smile. Rainbow funnels of light descended from the dark sky, and together, they were swept up.          

Stephen Perkins is the author of Raging Falcon and American Siren.as well as his brand new book Escape To Death. All three books are available on Amazon. You can read more on his blog Newsspellcom.org

Stephen is welcome to come back and share more stories with us anytime. Thank you Stephen.       

Scat Cat!

Scat Cat!

    When we left the urban lifestyle of Washington, D.C., for a more tranquil existence in the rural mountains of Montana, one of our adjustments was learning to live with the new neighbors.  Our home was in a different kind of neighborhood.  Instead of being surrounded by men, women, and children, we had cougars, wolves, and bears.  These predators rarely comprehend the idea of boundaries, or the notion that good fences make good neighbors, so we find them roaming about our property, often very close to the house.  

    Our most frequent nocturnal visitors are cougars that seem particular interested in our daughters playhouse swing set.  Perhaps it is just the curiosity of all felines, but I often wonder what they would do if I left out a ball of string.  It’s doubtful they would play with it because it isn’t food.  As stunningly gorgeous as they are, we don’t want to encourage their visits.  For the safety of my family, dogs, and horses, our goal has always been to discourage predators.  As an example, one particular night stands out in my memory.

    On the second floor of our home we have a large bedroom window that provides a grand view of the back of our property.  While admiring the stars one dark evening the motion detectors suddenly activated the perimeter lights, nearly blinding us.  Once our eyes adjusted, we saw standing in the middle of the yard a very large cougar.  He paused only long enough to realize the brightness was nothing to fear before walking over to the swing set.  This had me wondering how many times he had visited us before, unnoticed.  He sat regally in the play area, surveying all about him, like a king overlooking his kingdom.  Being a wildlife artist, I was enamored with his beauty and grace, temporarily forgetting what a potential threat he was to our family.  It would be dangerous to allow him to believe this was part of his territory.

    I was about to comment on this fact to my husband, but when I turned to speak, he was not there, having immediately retreated to the closet.  He ransacked it, searching for his rifle and ammunition.  As he fumbled to load it, I continued to admire the feline in his pose.  My husband opened the window, but was blocked by the mesh screen.  As he tugged fruitlessly to remove it, the cat rose from his perch and began to walk toward the woods.  On my last look at him, the cougar, who seemed completely unaware of the flurry he had created only a short distance above, slowly and confidently sauntered into the tree line, still secure in the knowledge that this world was his.

    We tried to follow his movements through the darkness with a flashlight, but the battery soon died.  My increasingly frustrated husband, incensed by the attitude of the beast, rushed downstairs and out onto the patio where he fired a single shot into the air, then shouted, “And stay out!” as a warning for the puma not to return.

    I have no wish to harm this mountain lion or capture him, except in spirit on canvas and paper.  I have handled many cougars in captivity, but seeing them in the wild is a thrill I will never tire of.

For more stories in our western adventure read “Go West, Young Woman!”   https://www.amazon.com/Go-West-Young-Woman-Military/dp/1555718299?ie=UTF8&ref_=asap_bc  

Book website: https://nancy442.wixsite.com/quinn

Art website:  http://quinnwildlifeart.com/

Thank you to Nancy Quinn for participating in Friday's Fun and Family-Friendly Guest Posts. Nancy, you are welcome to participate any time. 

Friday's Fun and Family Friendly Guest Posts Presents Deborah Baldwin and Conversation Hacks

A few holidays are coming up soon--Easter and Passover.  If you are lucky (or maybe you think not) you'll spend time with your family and friends. Families are still families even if social moires have changed (I think for the better.)

My husband recently retired from his instrumental music teaching position and I from teaching drama.  Our daughters were both theatre majors and heavily involved in music as well.  One daughter is still involved in the arts.  Her sister became a nurse (which she should have done all along, but everyone has a journey.)

We always have plenty to talk about when we get together and surprisingly it isn't Broadway.  We can dish like the best of them, however.  Whenever this occurs, I'm sure our sons-in-law don't know quite what to do with us.  We try to keep it to a minimum around them.

I thought about this challenge for other members of my family. They need conversational hacks--easy ways to converse with others. 

My personal hack is F.O.R.M. ( questions about family, occupation, recreation, money) to create conversation and usually I have little problem talking with others if I initiate the conversation.

It doesn't go very well the other way around.

I bet other arts people have the same problem I do.  In fact, I know they do.  It's one of the reasons arts people are such good friends with one another--we understand each other, because we are creative people. We try out best to talk sports or politics and sometimes we are successful. Remember, we are chameleons.  If there is someone who can change themselves in order to blend with others, it's an actor.

However, if someone would take the time to sincerely converse with us, I think they'd find what we do to be fascinating.

As you read the questions, just stick in art, music, dance or theatre as the project.

Here are some questions you can ask your "artsy" relative.

1.  What are you working on now?
2. How is it progressing?
3. Is it ever frustrating? How so?
4. What's the best part of the project?
5. Do other people help or work with you on it?  Who?
6. What is their involvement in it?
7. Do you work with a budget on the project?  If you don't mind my asking, how much money is it?
8. Is that the usual budget for a project like this?
9. Is this the first project of this kind you've done?
10. How is it different from others?
11. Do you have a deadline for completion?
12. Are you confident you'll make the deadline?
13. Are you ever worried about it?  What are the worries?
14. Does thinking about the project keep you awake at night?
15. Is the worry well founded or unrealistic?
16. When you visualize the outcome of the project, what does it look like?
17. Is there a message you want to convey through it?  What is it?
18. Have you patterned your project after someone else's?  Whose and why?
19. Who do you admire who has done this same project or a similar one?
20. Why do you admire them?
21. Will there be a public exhibition of your project?  When is it?
22. Will admission be charged to see it?  How much does it cost for admission?
23. Do you set the price of the admission or someone else does? Who and why?
24. What is your most proud moment concerning the project thus far?
25. Do you think you'll attempt the project again? Why or why not?

Now you have twenty-five questions (or hacks) to ask your relative or friend while sitting around the table.

Trust me, they are dying to share their work with you.

Just ask them.

Contact me at dhcbaldwin@gmail.com or my website DeborahBaldwin.net

I'd love to chat with you!

Thank you to Deborah Baldwin for participating in Friday's Fun and Family-Friendly Guest Posts. Debroah, you are welcome to participate any time. 

In the Zone by Saralyn Richard as Friday's Fun and Family Freindly Guest Post

In the Zone

Guest Blog by Saralyn Richard

Anyone who has dedicated himself to writing a book knows that it takes large portions of inspiration, perseverance, and focus to bring a story to life. The act of writing a book requires many hours of concentrated effort. Sometimes an author is able to concentrate so fully on the setting, characters, and plot of a story that he is transported to “the zone.”

What is this mystical “zone” authors talk about? It can be likened to a runner’s high, a surgeon’s precise focus, an actor’s immersion in a role. It happens quite fluidly, without intent. It has happened to me several times when I become completely engrossed in the story I am telling, so engrossed that I could not tell you whether it is night or day outside, where I live, or even who I am. Instead, I am inside of a scene. I am not just one of the characters—I am all of the characters. I am the pictures on the wall, the rugs on the floor, looking in all directions and observing, no, participating in all of it.

When I wrote Naughty Nana, a children’s picture book about my wild and crazy Old English sheepdog, who “just wants to have fun,” I went into the zone so deeply that I became Nana. Since she is the narrator of the book, I had to know what she was thinking in that goofy canine brain of hers. I had to walk on all fours and communicate with nudges and rollovers, digging with my paws and jumping with exuberance. I didn’t actually crawl on the ground, but mentally, I was in her body and mind, envisioning the world from her point of view. When I was able to do that, I did my best writing.

Writing an adult mystery novel, Murder in the One Percent, required a different form of empathy, but again, I had to get into the heads of several diverse characters. One night I was so deeply into the zone that the plot ran away with me, taking me to an unplanned event involving a horseback riding accident. This event turned out to be pivotal in the overall plot of the book, and I owe it all to being in the zone.

How does one go about reaching the zone? There is no surefire route. We hear of writers who are transported by alcohol or drugs, but I wouldn’t recommend relying on those. I have had some zone-like experiences when dreaming or exercising, times when my mind empties itself of distracting thoughts and allows me to focus on my story. I tell my creative writing students to write as if they were the actors in the screenplays of their stories, fixed in their settings, driving the action of the plot. Then, if they are lucky, the zone will take over to transform the writing from good to great.

Does writing from the zone make a difference in the quality of the book? I’ll let my readers answer that question. Naughty Nana is available at www.palmcirclepress.com, and Murder in the One Percent, published by Black Opal Books, will be available later this year. For more information check my author website:  www.saralynrichard.com or contact me at saralyn@saralynrichard.com.

Thank you to Saralyn Richard for participating in Friday's Fun and Family-Friendly Guest Posts. Saralyn, you are welcome to participate any time. 

5 Star Amazon Review for The Path of the Child!

 Adding this book to my UnPutDownAble shelf!, February 21, 2017

By 

LeJeune

Verified Purchase(What's this?)

This review is from: The Path of the Child (Kindle Edition)

What I liked about this book was everything. It is a debut novel and some of the best books I have read are debut novels. I don't think I have ever read anything like this before. The story is mostly Melanie's point of view and told in the third person. I was hooked in the first chapter.
The author does a great job setting up the characters and building relationships that you can understand maybe identify with! I really liked the main character, Mel. This is a very uplifting story. This book made me feel good and I had a hard time putting it down.

Thank you LeJune for making this author's heart swell with happiness. I appreciate the wonderful words you shared!  

The Empty Chair

The Empty Chair

It was always his chair, the deep-cushioned recliner with the pop-up foot rest that dominated one corner of the room. He did everything in that chair. Well, not quite everything. But it was his reading chair, his talking chair, his TV-watching chair, his snacking chair, and his snoozing chair. The recliner followed Mom and Dad from house to house, from living room to living room. It shed its upholstery periodically and grew a new covering, like a reptile shedding its skin and emerging glistening and freshly clad. It wasn’t always pretty, but it was always a part of home. A part of him.

The chair didn’t empty suddenly. The process was a gradual one - a subtle stealing away. Nor did the chair empty in any physical sense. Dad still sat in it; he just didn’t inhabit it anymore. The conversations faded first as Alzheimer’s insinuated itself into and through his brain. Reading was next to go; although he kept up the habit of holding a newspaper or book, he never turned the pages. As the months and years marked the infiltration of the leading edge of his illness, he would stare blankly at the TV screen, his book or magazine held forgotten - often upside down - in his hands. Eventually, even the pretense of reading vanished along with his memories, his laughter, his love of life and his awareness of his wife and family.

The chair is gone now. It broke down soon after Dad died. He and it had grown old together, had grown tired together. The chair mourned the loss of the familiar contours of his body and refused to form a relationship with anyone else. Mom had the chair removed, and the corner where it once stood remained empty for a long time.

When Mom moved to her new apartment, she purchased a new chair - one without Dad’s imprint. Mom’s chair was her throne. She sat in it to watch TV, to nap, to snack on her tea and muffin, and to bask in the joy of receiving visitors. Especially family. She would sit proudly, the center of attention, trading quips, puns and jokes with anyone who would listen. But not anymore. Mom’s chair is empty now. We lost her last month, just six weeks after she celebrated her 93rd birthday surrounded by her children and grandchildren. She and Dad are back together again, sitting peacefully side-by-side as they used to do. Holding hands, trading stories, and basking in their mutual love.

Bio

Phyllis Entis is the author of the Damien Dickens Mysteries series, which includes The Green Pearl Caper, The White Russian Caper and The Chocolate Labradoodle Caper. Her debut novel, The Green Pearl Caper, was a Library Journal SELF-e Selection. Phyllis is a free-lance writer and retired food safety microbiologist with degrees from McGill University and the University of Toronto. In 2007, ASM Press published her non-fiction book, Food Safety: Old Habits, New Perspectives. 

Phyllis lives in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California with her husband and their Australian Cobberdog, Shalom. When she’s not writing, Phyllis usually can be found walking around town, browsing in the local library, or enjoying her garden

You can learn even more about Phyllis, her books and her other writing at Gone Writing.

Follow Phyllis and see all her books listed at her Amazon Author Page.

Thank you to Phyllis Entis for participating in Friday's Fun and Family-Friendly Guest Posts. Phyllis, you are welcome to participate any time.