Wednesday Writers–An interview with Lady Fallon from Susan Hanniford Crowley’s YA Fantasy Lady Fallon’s Dragons

Tags

Lady Fallon’s Dragons, Susan Hanniford Crowley, Sweet romance, Wednesday Writers, YA fantasy romance

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest author is Susan Hanniford Crowley with an interview with Lady Aleasya Fallon, the heroine of her into Young Adult sweet contemporary fantasy romance, Lady Fallon’s Dragons. Susan has also included an excerpt from the book, so keep reading to the end. Welcome, Susan and Lady Fallon!

Interviewer: Thank you for allowing this interview, Lady Fallon.

Lady Fallon: You’re welcome and please, just ask the questions in your heart.

Interviewer: When did you first learn about dragons?

Lady Fallon: I always dreamt of dragons. My parents gave me toy dragons, and when I was older I collected dragon statues.

Interviewer: When I was a child, I would look up and see dragons in the clouds. Everyone said it was just my imagination. Was it?

Lady Fallon: You were likely seeing dragons. Imagination allows us to be open to a bigger world.

Interviewer: How did you become Lady Fallon?

Lady Fallon: I was found by a dragon, actually Trulo, who is sitting on my shoulder. (Trulo whistles a little tune and then settles down again.) I inherited my title and Skye Over Castle from my uncle Lord James Fallon.

Interviewer: What happened to Lord Fallon?

Lady Fallon: He was murdered.

Interviewer (flustered): Oh, my. (Trulo flies over and licks the interviewer on the cheek then goes back to Lady Fallon’s shoulder.)

Lady Fallon: Perhaps we can continue talking about dragons?

Interviewer: Yes, yes, of course. Did he just kiss me?

Lady Fallon: He did. Trulo’s a sensitive soul. He must like you. He doesn’t kiss everyone.

Interviewer (smiles): Thank you, Trulo. What kind of dragon is he?

Lady Fallon: Trulo is a Lyra dragon. The Lyras are currently the smallest known dragon in the world. They enjoy singing, whistling, dancing and before you ask, yes, they do breathe fire.

Interviewer: Are there many Lyras?

Lady Fallon: No, they are an endangered species. Skye Over Castle and lands are designated as an animal sanctuary. We are not open to the public. I sometimes grant special visits, but that is rare as our main focus is to keep these wonderful creatures alive.

Interviewer: Are there other kinds of dragons at Skye Over?

Lady Fallon: We are also the home for the Imperial Dragons, which are the largest known species of dragon in the world. When in flight, they are often mistaken for clouds.

Interviewer: All these dragons must keep you busy.

Lady Fallon (laughs): You have no idea.

Interviewer: I would be remiss if I didn’t ask about a certain Mr. Hampshire. Can you tell us about him?

(Trulo jumps up and squawks a burst of flame. The sprinklers rain on them as the alarm blares.)

Lady Fallon: I will, of course, pay for the damages. Sadly, Trulo and I are needed elsewhere now. Thank you.

Interviewer: That was Lady Fallon of Skye Over with one of her dragons, and she’s only eighteen.

A wondrous tale of contemporary dragons and a young woman fighting for her life!

Eighteen-year-old Aleasya gazed briefly at each person in this exclusive area of the plane. Carefully she put her carry-on in the overhead before taking refuge in her personal suite near the window.

Tears poured down her face in endless silent rivers. Not able to stand it another minute, Aleasya sat up and took her tablet out of her tote. She searched for New York City news. It wasn’t the first story but it was there, the footage of the car being pulled out of the water. The car door was pried open. For the briefest of seconds, she saw her father’s hand with the ring showing the Fallon crest.

They were supposed to meet for dinner. When the time came and went, she called. Every time the phone went to voicemail. It didn’t make sense, her father always picked up on her calls no matter how busy.

Now she knew he would never call her back. In her head, she heard his voice. “Run, Sya Bear, run.” She sobbed, shaking so much that it hurt.

Aleasya gave the dragon prayer ring on her right forefinger a spin. I need help. Danger is closing in on me.

EXCERPT

Alice took her over to a table where a dark blue cloth covered a birdcage. “This,” she said, “is a Lyra.”

With a sweep of her hand, she pulled off the cover revealing what seemed at first glance to be a small blue and gold bird.

Aleasya looked again. With her heart caught in her throat, she couldn’t breathe only gasp. She couldn’t believe her eyes, and couldn’t take her eyes off it. How could it be true? How could she believe? Looking right at the creature, how dare she not?

“Are you all right, my dear?” Alice asked.

Aleasya nodded and gave her ring a spin. The ring hummed. Remembering her father made her feel grounded.

“You’re wearing a dragon prayer ring!”

“Yes, it was a gift from my father. He got it on a trip to Tibet. It has two parts; the outer part spins.” Returning to the subject at hand, she asked,

“Is it really a dragon?”

“It is,” Alice answered. “Hush, it’s waking. You want to be polite now. After all, you’re just meeting.” The little animal stirred and stretched out its wings. These weren’t feathered golden wings but smooth and stretched like a bat. Tiny bright blue scales covered the body and head. Gold talons gripped the bars of the birdcage, and two golden eyes now fixed on her. The small creature hopped over to the closest bar. When Aleasya stepped closer for a better look, the dragon tilted its head.

The beauty and wonder of what only could be a dragon transfixed her. Here was the creature of her dreams. Everything she knew to be real said this couldn’t be happening. But her heart knew better, and Aleasya fell completely in love with this perfectly wonderful being. She couldn’t stop trembling with excitement.

The dragon trembled too.

“The Lyra is the smallest known dragon in the world,” Alice continued. “They are nearly extinct in the wild, found in only a few remote locations. The Lyra is famous for its song, which is said to give the listener pure ecstasy. This Lyra has not sung since arriving in my store. The legends say that when a bond is made between the Lyra and its human companion, the Lyra will love that person with great devotion all of its natural life. Although small, it is fierce in protecting its companion. The Lyra loves its human so much, that if it is rejected, it will die from a broken heart.”

A tiny but long forked tongue flicked through the cage bars and licked Aleasya’s hand. It was exactly like her dreams. Her gaze locked with the dragon’s, and something deep inside clicked. But she was afraid.

BUY LINKS

Lady Fallon’s Dragons are available at:
Amazon (Kindle and Paperback)
Nook
Kobo
Smashwords
Scribd
BAM (Paperback available through their online store)

About the Author:

Susan Hanniford Crowley has just expanded her work into Young Adult contemporary fantasy romance with Lady Fallon’s Dragons. This sweet romance is filled with adventure, action, intrigue, and lot of dragons. Coming soon: Her first Young Adult vampire adventure sweet romance – EverWarm.
Susan is a member of SFWA and RWA and specializes in vampires and rare supernaturals.
Her steamy paranormal adventure romance books include: When Love Survives, The Stormy Love Life of Laura Cordelais, A Vampire for Christmas, Vampire in the Basement, Vampire King of New York, Vampire Princess of New York, and The Vampire with a Blanket of Stars. Her steamy steampunk romance is Mrs. Bright’s Tea Room. Her steamy mythology romance is Poseidon’s Catch.
When she’s not writing, she is an Associate Editor for Space and Time Magazine, which publishes science fiction, fantasy, and horror.
Susan is married, has children, and grandchildren in addition to two cats. For hobbies, she collects seashells and dragons.
Susan’s

website

Social Media Links:

Blog

Facebook

Twitter

Advertisement

Musings from a Writer’s Brain–The Thing About Pen Names by Sharon Ledwith

Tags

essay, Musings from a Writer's Brain, pen names, Sharon Ledwith, YA FAntasy

From Sharon Ledwith

Who are you? No, I really want to know. For months I’ve been hanging with a great group of authors. Many of those authors have pen names—a.k.a. PSEUDONYMS. I still don’t know one particular author’s name that I’ve come to know well and count on for support and help. I find pen names funny. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the concept of a “secret identity.” The authors want to keep their private lives private. Their pen name is their business name. Yet, on Facebook, there’s a real photo of them next to their fake name. I find that hilarious—like unmasking Batman or taking off Clark Kent’s glasses.

Pen names intrigue me, so I did a little digging, and came up with these tidbits compliments of the Daily Writing Tips blog:

Authors throughout the centuries have used pen names. You’ve probably heard of the following authors:

• George Orwell (real name Eric Arthur Blair)
• George Eliot (real name Mary Ann Evans)
• Lewis Carroll (real name Charles Lutwidge Dodgson)

Authors use pen names for a wide variety of reasons. These include:

• To remain anonymous (especially if producing a politically or religiously sensitive work)

This is perhaps less common today, but sometimes occurs if a very personal or sexually explicit work is written.

• To change or conceal gender

In the 18th century, many female authors used male pen names in order to be taken seriously. George Eliot is the most famous example, though the Bronte sisters all wrote under pen names too.

This trend still continues in some genres today: for example, female fantasy or science fiction authors will often use a gender-neutral name (Robin Hobb) or use their initials (J.K. Rowling) as the genre has traditionally attracted more male readers and authors. A similar effect can be seen when male authors adopt a female pen name to write a chick lit or romance novel.

• To write across multiple genres

Lewis Carroll also wrote mathematical textbooks under his real name (Charles Dodgson), so adopted a pen name for his children’s novels. Authors today who write in multiple genres will sometimes use a different name for each one, to avoid confusing readers.

• To recover from poor sales or reputation

If an author’s real name has attracted criticism, it may be worth considering changing to a pen name. Sometimes, the first few novels by a new author don’t sell well in bookshops, leading publishers to reject future submissions. Therefore, changing to a pen name is often recommended in these circumstances.

So there you have it. If you are trying to build up a reputation in multiple genres, using a pen name (or several pen names) is probably a good idea. Even if your real name (or current pen name) has been slammed or attracted heavy criticism, switching to a new name could be a good way to go. However, adopting a pen name means building up your reputation again from scratch—a lot of work, but it may be well worth the time and effort to do so.

A final thought: if you’re using a pen name in an attempt to remain anonymous, be aware that people are often curious when they suspect a secret—you may well be “discovered” under that mask you worked so hard to create. In some cases, this can lead to great publicity, but if your publisher or fans suspects you of trying to conceal a less-than-stellar past, it may backfire.

To be you, or not to be you? What’s your choice? I’ve decided to stick with my real name.

Here’s a glimpse of the premises of both my young adult series.

Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mysteries…

Imagine a teenager possessing a psychic ability and struggling to cope with this freakish power while trying to have a normal life. Now, imagine being uprooted and forced to live in a small tourist town where nothing much ever happens. It’s bores-ville from the get-go.

Welcome to Fairy Falls. Expect the unexpected…

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventures…

Children are the keys to our future. And now, children are the only hope for our past.

Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to be Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from the evil Belial—five classmates are sent into the past to restore balance, and bring order back into the world, one mission at a time.

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventure Series:

The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret, Book #2 Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis, Book #1 Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

Legend of the Timekeepers, prequel Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mystery Series:

Lost and Found, Book One Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and the teen psychic mystery series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter, and Smashwords. Look up her Amazon Author page for a list of current books. Be sure to check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.

Musings from a Writer’s Brain–Learning Welsh by Carol Browne

Tags

An Elf's Lament Upon Leaving, Carole Brown, Elves, essay on Learning Welsh, Fantasy, Musings from a Writer's Brain, paranormal

From Carol Browne

a few weeks ago I made a serious attempt at tackling a life-long goal. I have always wanted to learn Welsh and now that I am semi-retired, I have the time and the inclination to take on new projects. I already have a good grounding in French and a smattering of German but Welsh has been what you might call the Holy Grail for me when wanting to learn another language. There are a number of reasons for this. As a Brit, I believe we in the UK should value and preserve all our languages. It is a shame they aren’t taught in schools. The UK comprises four nations so why should English alone be the national tongue? Welsh is a British language and the Britons were here first!

Apart from the historical and cultural reasons for learning another language, it has been shown to help with cognitive function and to ward off dementia. It opens up neural pathways in the brain and is especially good for the mental development of children. Other languages can stretch our minds with their varied uses of syntax and imagery; it is a different way of looking at the world.

I have another reason for learning Welsh, however. This one will ask many of the people reading this blog to suspend disbelief. I did have another attempt at learning Welsh a long time ago. I was about eight years old and had inherited a bookcase with its contents from my great uncle. In it was a Teach Yourself Welsh book. So I tried. I desperately wanted to learn Welsh because being Welsh was an obsession of mine. Coincidentally, all my family holidays were spent in Wales as we weren’t too far from the Welsh border. Trust me, once you cross that border you feel different. There is something a bit magical about Wales. Druids, castles, dragons, yes! But the whole ethos of that country feels otherworldly. The beaches are gorgeous too and there are stunning waterfalls and lush woodland that seem to be a natural haunt for the faerie folk.

My attempt at learning Welsh on my own at such a young age was a failure. I could write the words but had no idea how to say them. No Internet then. There were no evening classes and no college courses in Welsh, even had I been old enough to attend. I was forced to abandon the attempt. But my obsession with Wales persisted. I didn’t just want to speak Welsh; I wanted to be Welsh. Being English instead actually caused me considerable depression. Bonkers! Why would a child have such outlandish thoughts!

Fast forward twenty years to a morning bus ride on my way to work. I remember it clearly. I was gazing sadly out of the window, thinking that if anyone were to ask me what my biggest regret in life was, I would have to say, “Not being Welsh”. Only one thought cheered me up. That evening there was something to look forward to. A neighbour and I had booked readings with a local clairvoyant medium. Although we both had an interest in spiritual and esoteric matters, we had not been to a medium before and it was a bit of a giggle; but I was not prepared for what I was to hear.

When my turn to sit with the medium came, she told me about my present life and quite a few things that would happen in my future (I dismissed them at the time but they all came to pass!). She said that I could ask her some questions before I left. Something prompted me to say, “Can you see people’s past lives?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I can see some of yours. In your most recent past life you were Welsh.”

Yep, I almost fell off the chair! How could she know I was obsessed with being Welsh? Nobody knew that!

She went on to tell me I was a woman with a smallholding in Maesteg, South Wales, and I loved animals but didn’t like human society so lived like a recluse. She said, unfortunately, I had brought that vibration with me to this lifetime (I have. My bad, but it wasn’t a conscious decision!). I died of cancer in about 1874.

“One day, you will go back to Maesteg and recognise where you used to live,” she went on.

So far, I haven’t made it to Maesteg, but you never know.

The funny thing is, as soon as she told me I had been Welsh, my obsession with being Welsh evaporated along with the sadness. Something lifted and I was content with my Englishness from that point on. Fortunately, my love for Wales and the language did not go away. Now, thanks to Duolingo, I am learning Welsh and I know how to pronounce it this time, so I have more chance of success.
For all those years before that clairvoyant released me from my past-life enchantment, I endured an inexplicable longing for a place with which I felt a profound but irrational bond. It was nostalgia for a home that no longer existed and a sense of deep sorrow and regret to have lost it. I experienced something for which there is no word in English.

But there is a word that encapsulates all of those feelings. The word is hiraeth. It’s Welsh, of course!

Here’s a brief intro to my latest book. I hope you enjoy it.

An elf laments a passing era,
But truth and beauty will survive,
For they live on in stories and verses,
And in our imaginations thrive.

Nature, nostalgia, mystery and magic,
In twisty tales and poems that rhyme,
Are here, with myth and fantasy blended,
To capture another place and time.

BUY LINKS

Amazon UK

Amazon US

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Once upon a time a little girl wrote a poem about a flower.
Impressed, her teacher pinned it to the wall and, in doing so, showed the child which path to follow.
Over the years poems and stories flowed from her pen like magic from a wizard’s wand.
She is much older now, a little wiser too, and she lives in rural Cambridgeshire, where there are many trees to hug.
But inside her still is that little girl who loved Nature and discovered the magic of words.
She hopes to live happily ever after.

Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter.

Musings From a Writer’s Brain–How to make a Zombie by Sharon Ledwith

Tags

books, Musings from a Writer's Brain, Sharon Ledwith, The Last Timekeepers, Timekeepers Noble Slave, YA FAntasy, YA Timetravel fiction

You won’t normally see Zombies on the blog because of all the supernatural creatures out there, I hate Zombies the most. However, an author friend has a new YA release that features a zombie in it (in a funny way she assured me), and since Halloween is around the corner, I wanted to get her monster and her YA time travel adventure a timely plug. So, if you don’t mind the walking dead, keep reading.

HOW TO MAKE A ZOMBIE

from Sharon Ledwith

Much has been written about the walking dead we’ve come to know as ‘zombies’. Immortalized in movies, television shows, books, comics, and music videos (remember Thriller?), zombies have become so much a part of our culture that people can’t get enough of these brain-eating horror icons. When researching for The Last Timekeepers and the Noble Slave, the third installment of my young adult time travel adventure series, I wanted to incorporate a Voodoo ceremony that included creating a zombie. Oh, where to start, I asked myself, as there was so much information out there to glean, and only a chapter to fit it in.

Buried Zombie Rising Out Of Ground In Misty Cemetery

So do zombies exist? The people of Haiti certainly think so. Here they are considered to be more than spooky stories, but rather very real entities. Stories of zombies persist in Haiti right up to the modern day, with sightings of the poor, haggard creatures fairly common in many rural areas. In fact, cases are so prevalent that there have been wild estimates claiming that there are as many as up to one thousand new cases of zombies a year. Wow, that’s a lot of the undead roaming around a small island! Zombification is even a crime under the Haitian Penal Code (Article 246), in which it is considered to be on par with murder despite the fact that the zombified individual is technically still alive.

Bet you’re dying to know how to make a zombie? Read on…

The zombies of Haiti were said to be corpses that were reanimated through black magic by powerful Voodoo sorcerers or priests known as bokors, for manual labor on farms and sugarcane plantations. Zombies can allegedly be made from those who are still living if the bokor is powerful enough to wrest the victim’s soul from their body. The process of turning a living person into a zombie is said to follow certain steps. First, the bokor will place a hex on the target of the ritual, who will subsequently fall mysteriously ill and die soon after. The exact methods and concoctions used vary among the bokors, but many use a powerful neurotoxin derived from pufferfish. Some zombification processes use blood and hair from their victims in addition to using Voodoo dolls. Ohers involve a carefully prepared mixture called ‘coup de poudre’ (powder strike) made of mystical herbs, human remains, and animal parts. Administrating this mixture can also vary from ingestion, injection, or even a blow dart.

Once the family of the victim pronounces the victim dead, he or she is buried in the family tomb (usually above ground), where the responsible bokor will steal the body from its grave and set about reanimating it through dark sorcery. Next, the bokor performs an ancient Voodoo rite where he or she captures the victim’s ti bon ange (the part of the soul connected to an individual) within seven days following the death of corps cadaver, while it is still hovering over the corpse. This effects a split in the spiritual parts of the victim and produces two complementary types of zombies: the spirit zombie and the zombie of the flesh. The bokor then traps the spirit zombie in a small clay jar or container, and replaces it with the loa (Voodoo spirit) that the bokor controls. The container is hidden in a secret place and is wrapped in a piece of the victim’s clothing or some other personal possession.

After a day or two, the bokor then administers a hallucinogenic mixture called the ‘zombie cucumber,’ (made from the plant Datura stramonium) that revives the victim and is used to keep the zombie in a state of submissive confusion. In this brainwashed condition, the zombie cannot speak, has no memory, and no longer resembles its past human personality. Now easy to control, the zombie is completely under the control of the bokor who created them until the bokor dies. Once released from bondage, the zombies can finally return to their home village or place of burial, and die.

There seems reason to believe from work and research done in the past that there may possibly be a concrete, scientific basis for stories of zombies, so perhaps time will tell. For now, these mysterious creatures lurk along the fringes of Haitian villages and our imaginations. Whether drug addled slaves or corpses reanimated through dark sorcery, the enigma of real zombies beckons us. Perhaps one day we will bring them out into the light and have the answers we seek.

With that, I’ll leave you with this line in the song Thriller, by Michael Jackson: It’s close to midnight! Something evil’s lurking in the dark! Hopefully, it’s not a blood-thirsty corpse. Stay safe, my zombie-loving readers!

Here’s a glimpse at my latest time travel mystery.

True freedom happens only when you choose to be free.

Eleven-year-old Drake Bailey is an analytical thinker and the genius of the Timekeeper crew. However, no logic or mathematical acumen can change the color of his skin, or prepare him for this third Timekeeper mission in antebellum Georgia. To survive, Drake must learn to play the role of a plantation slave and when confronted with the brutality, hatred, and racism of the deep south, he’ll have to strategically keep one move ahead of his sadistic captors to ensure his lineage continues.

In a dark world of Voodoo, zombies, and ritualistic sacrifice, the Timekeepers must ensure a royal bloodline survives. Can Drake remove both literal and figurative chains to save both himself and a devout slave girl from a terrible fate? If he can’t summon the necessary courage, humanity could stand to lose one of its greatest leaders.

Amazon Buy Link

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and the teen psychic mystery series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter, and Smashwords. Look up her Amazon Author page for a list of current books. Be sure to check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.

Tasty Tuesdays–Italian Potluck Casserole from Sharon Ledwith

from Sharon Ledwith

An Italian dish full of sausage and veggies that’s guaranteed to put a smile on your face, and a napkin on your lap. The preparation takes about half an hour, with a bake time of 25 minutes, a setting time of 10 minutes, and serves ten of your hungriest family or friends. This hearty meal is ideal for those weekend warriors set to do some renovations at their home or cottage. Serve with a side salad, garlic bread, and your choice of wine, and you’ve got the makings of a trip to Italy without leaving the comforts of your home.

Potluck Penne and Sausage Casserole

16 ounces penne pasta

1 lb. bulk Italian sausage

1 tbsp. butter

1 tbsp. olive oil

1 medium onion, finely chopped

1 medium carrot, finely chopped

1½ tsp. dried oregano

1 tsp. salt

½ tsp. pepper

1 small zucchini, halved lengthwise and sliced

1 cup chopped fresh mushrooms

6 garlic cloves, minced

15 oz. tomato sauce

14 oz. pasta sauce with meat

2 cups shredded part-skimmed mozzarella cheese

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Cook pasta according to package directions for al dente; drain and transfer to greased 13 x 9 inch baking dish.

Fry sausage in a large skillet over medium heat until no longer pink, about 6-8 minutes, breaking into crumbles. Drain and remove from pan.

In same skillet, heat butter and oil over medium-high heat. Add onion, carrot, oregano, salt and pepper. Cook 5 minutes and stir frequently. Add zucchini, mushroom and garlic. Cook 6 – 8 minutes or until vegetables are tender. Be sure to stir often.

Add tomato sauce, pasta sauce, and sausage. Pour the mixture over pasta. Sprinkle with cheese.

Cover casserole with foil coated with cooking spray. Bake 10 minutes. Uncover. Bake until golden brown and cheese is melted, 15-20 minutes longer. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Once dinner is done, and you’ve had your last sip of wine, I’m sure you’ll be ready to escape into your living room for some much-needed quiet time. Why not make a cup of tea, then relax with one of my books? May I suggest a nostalgic visit to Fairy Falls or perhaps go back in time with The Last Timekeepers? Just remember to breathe once in a while as you’re being led on a bumpy, unpredictable ride along with my characters.

Here’s a glimpse of Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls

Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mysteries…

Imagine a teenager possessing a psychic ability and struggling to cope with this freakish power while trying to have a normal life. Now, imagine being uprooted and forced to live in a small tourist town where nothing much ever happens. It’s bores-ville from the get-go.

Welcome to Fairy Falls. Expect the unexpected.

Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mystery Series:

Lost and Found, Book One Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and the teen psychic mystery series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter, and Smashwords. Look up her Amazon Author page for a list of current books.

Wednesday Writers–An Elf’s Lament Upon Leaving by Carol Browne

Tags

An Elf's Lament Upon Leaving, anthology of poems and short stories, book excerpt, Fantasy, Wednesday Writerss. Carol Browne

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest author Carol Browne, from England, will be sharing a review of her newest release, An Elf’s Lament Upon Leaving, a collection of short stories and poems. Carol also has an excerpt from one of the book’s short stories. Welcome, Carol!

High praise for Carol Browne’s latest book that is a beautiful anthology of poems and short stories.

No one says it better than an Amazon reviewer who describes the book as “atmospheric”:

“The poetry is steeped in a love of nature, magic and mythology. The short stories hold interesting twists. No spoilers! The Boomerang Effect (dabbling with a love spell, Martin Nevis finds himself having second thoughts) A Force to Be Reckoned With (an outcast with thoughts of being “destined for something great” wants to join the police force) and Transformation (once bullied, Patricia attends a school reunion and emerges victorious) were my favorites.

Give this anthology collection of short stories a read, you won’t be disappointed.”

BLURB

An elf laments a passing era,
But truth and beauty will survive,
For they live on in stories and verses,
And in our imaginations thrive.

Nature, nostalgia, mystery and magic,
In twisty tales and poems that rhyme,
Are here, with myth and fantasy blended,
To capture another place and time.

Here’s an excerpt from the short story The Boomerang Effect.

Martin found just the spell he needed. It was in a very old book, wedged among countless other volumes at the rear of the occult bookshop.
He pulled the book from its hiding-place. Eight Ways to Magic, proclaimed the title. The book cracked in protest, as Martin pried it open. His eyes flicked hungrily down the list of contents and widened as they reached Chapter Six – “Love Spells”.
Martin glanced warily around the shop, as though fearful of discovery, but, apart from an elderly lady squinting at a book on flower magic, he was quite alone. And the proprietor, a raw-boned man whose fuzz of grey hair ringed the summit of his skull like a helm-cloud, was engrossed in a book catalogue at the counter, his long nose like a spike of bone wearing spectacles.
Martin’s fingers fumbled their way through age-thickened pages until they reached Chapter Six. And there it was, spell number eight: How to attract the lover of your choice.
He closed the book, hugged it to his chest and made for the counter, his heart quickening with excitement.
Now, Debbie Starsmore, he thought, you shall be mine.
Leaving the shop moments later, his purchase thrust into his holdall like a guilty secret, he made for home.
Home was a grubby ground-floor flat in the cheaper part of town. Martin had lived there alone for 25 years since leaving school in the summer of ‘63 with an ‘O’ Level in Art and the complete indifference of his teachers. His parents hadn’t minded his leaving home. His mother, in fact, had been quite cheerful at the prospect of doing less laundry, while his father had wondered how many lodgers they could legally cram into Martin’s old room.
So Martin set off on his lonely journey through life.
By day, he vacantly occupied the position of sales assistant at B. Fleet Footwear, and for 25 years grew a paunch, while his hair receded vaguely towards the crown of his head. These signs of maturity never seemed to earn him the right to promotion, but Martin was content with his lot.
Little did B. Fleet know how much it suited the ageing assistant to be lowly and anonymous because, by night, Martin was a wizard.

BUY LINKS

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Once upon a time a little girl wrote a poem about a flower.
Impressed, her teacher pinned it to the wall and, in doing so, showed the child which path to follow.
Over the years poems and stories flowed from her pen like magic from a wizard’s wand.
She is much older now, a little wiser too, and she lives in rural Cambridgeshire, where there are many trees to hug.
But inside her still is that little girl who loved Nature and discovered the magic of words.
She hopes to live happily ever after.

Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter.

Wednesday Writers–The Legend of Kiwaft: Silvyn’s Tale by Sara Nicole

Tags

book excerpt from Silvyn's Tale, Character interview, Sara Nicole, Speculative Ficton Fantasy, The Legend of Kiwaft: Silvyn's Tale, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest author is Sara Nicole who has a cheeky interview between the characters from her Speculative Fiction/Fantasy The Legend of Kiwaft: Silvyn’s Tale. Welcome, Nicole!

            Dear friends, please allow me to introduce you to Silvyn, a carefree, fun-loving, slightly narcissistic merman of the wondrous undersea city known as Coralae within the realm of Kiwaft. Joining him will be the land-dwelling beauty with the unique purple eyes, Graiceyl (pronounced gray-sill) of Vailyx of the Kiwaftian highlands. They’re here to talk about Silvyn’s Tale, the first novel in the epic fantasy series The Legend of Kiwaft.

Silvyn: I’m not sure what you mean by “slightly narcissistic.”

Graiceyl: Yeah, I think we can leave off the “slightly.”

Silvyn: That’s not what I meant! That’s not true, either!

Graiceyl: Ha! You know you’re in love with your own tail.

Silvyn: I’ll have you know that a golden tail like mine is not very common among my people, and you have to admit it is spectacular. Not compared to your eyes, of course. They’re like jewels, like amethysts. Your hair is like-

Graiceyl: That’s enough sweet talk. Why don’t you talk about how we met?

Silvyn: I’d rather not.

Graiceyl: I’ll start. Your friends abducted me, and you joined them in bullying me…

Silvyn: Do we have to talk about this?

Graiceyl: …and nearly drowned me…

Silvyn: But then I saved your life!

Graiceyl: You put it in danger in the first place!

Silvyn: I saved you from that shark!

Graiceyl: That’s true. You were very brave.

Silvyn: And strong.

Graiceyl: That was the first time I kissed you.

Silvyn: A memory I cherish. Your lips are more dulcet than all the women’s in Coralae.

Graiceyl: You would know.

Silvyn: I’ve changed!

Graiceyl: I know. Truth be told, you’re a walking miracle.

Silvyn: Wow! Well, thank you. I think you mean a swimming miracle, but I can walk too.

Graiceyl: Living proof that no one is too far lost.

Silvyn: Thanks… I think.

Graiceyl: Kanna, our Creator, transformed you completely. You went from being the man who kissed me without permission and once slapped me-

Silvyn: You slapped me first!

Graiceyl: You deserved it!

Silvyn: I know I did. I didn’t really mean to slap you back. It just sort of happened. My moral compass didn’t exactly point north back then. I’m sorry.

Graiceyl: Point north? You didn’t even have a moral compass back then! But I forgave you already. Like I started to say, you went from that to being the first man I ever trusted.

Silvyn: That means more to me than all the jewels in the Nevaltasha Ocean and beyond. I mean it. I can’t take credit, though. It was all Kanna’s doing.

Graiceyl: Like I said, you’re a living miracle.

Silvyn: Well, Kanna sure used you a lot to make it happen. You wrecked my life, you know!

Graiceyl: Just remember, it was you and your friends who abducted me in the first place.

Silvyn: Oh, but you’re the one who showed up unannounced-

Graiceyl: I think we’re giving too much away.

Silvyn: Fine. I’m just saying, if you’d really wanted to be rid of me, you could have left me alone.

Graiceyl: Then who would have taken me swimming? You can’t blame me for wanting to swim with a merman.

Silvyn: Which brings us back to my magnificent tail. Confess, you think it’s marvelous, too.

Graiceyl: I’ll confess you’re a guppy!

Silvyn: Bully!

Graiceyl: Ha ha! Sorry, friends – little inside joke there. I hope you’ll read our love and adventure story in The Legend of Kiwaft: Silvyn’s Tale! It has a twist ending!

Silvyn: What happened to not giving too much away? Thanks for having us, friends! I hope you’ll enjoy reading about how a purple-eyed highlander turned my life inside-out and upside-down!

Graiceyl: And enjoyed doing it! Take care!

The Legend of Kiwaft: Silvyn’s Tale

by Sara Nicole

EXPLORERS BEWARE:
The land of Kiwaft is more than what it seems. Within the mundane is magic, and among the ordinary are those with secrets, some that may metamorphose an entire world. Judge not the destiny of a person by its beginnings. Believe in change. Remember above all else, the truth is revealed in the eyes.

In the labyrinthine depths of the ocean called Nevaltasha lives a race of formidable humans, the Coralaens. Do not trust the ones whose feet transform to fins and back. A mischievous man among them, he of the golden tail, mighty and wondrous happenings await this unsuspecting recalcitrant, but first a trial by water.

If you, brave venturer, still seek to roam these forbidden realms of myth and peril, take great heed of the prophecies given in centuries past- The time has come for the mountains of Wistaor to be shaken. The awaited Legend of Kiwaft has crossed into the Shrouded Isle. When his odyssey is finished, nothing will ever be the same again.
Are you ready?

Excerpt (from Silvyn’s point of view, interacting with Graiceyl) –

She suddenly jumped into the water, splashing me, and I wiped the water from my face. “Let’s swim!” I liked how her eyes lit up as she suggested it. “I want to look at something beautiful.”

“I already am,” I answered. “Want me to bring you a mirror?”

She laughed and splashed me, and her cheeks blushed. “How many times have you said that to a woman?”

“And meant it?”

She splashed me again, so I ducked under the water and tugged her foot down, dunking her. She came back to the surface spluttering and coughing. “Bully,” she rasped when I reappeared above water.

“Hold your breath, guppy,” I retorted, “or use the berries!”

“It happened too fast!” she protested. When she had regained her breath, she swam behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. “Come on! Show me something beautiful… besides myself!”

I chuckled. “Did you know we’re right above a coral reef?”

“Really?”

I nodded. “Your people call it Caleas Reef.”

“My people?”

“Land-dwellers.”

“What do your people call it?”

I shrugged, and one of her hands slid off my shoulder. She pulled herself closer and wrapped her arms around my neck, which I enjoyed. “Leesujun Reef. Sometimes Caleas Reef.” I nodded to where she had been perched. “We call that Reef Rock.”

“Oh.” There was a brief pause, then she asked, “What’s a coral reef?”

I rolled my eyes and dove. Beneath the water, her legs wound about my waist, and I yelped, which startled her. I shifted her legs lower so they weren’t pressing on my battle wounds from the shark, and she said something that sounded like Sorry. I started to respond to her in undersea, but I remembered she couldn’t understand it. I swam a little deeper and westward, and I showed her the wondrous underwater masterpiece called a coral reef. She loved it.

She seemed to especially love the tiny seahorses that called the coral reef home, so after a while I took her away to another place I knew she’d love: a wide field of seagrass that was home to many seahorses. Her cry of surprise and delight when she spotted them made me grin. We watched them for some time, and she laughed when I showed her how to hold one with its tail curled around her finger. I checked several times to make sure she wasn’t drowning, but the berries were achieving their purpose. We swam a long time, and I showed her many parts of the underwater world, at least the shallower parts. I enjoyed sharing its secrets with her. When we at last returned to the surface, I had brought her back to Rubble Coast and the rocks covered with starfish.

She slid off my back, then she hugged me and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly.

Want to read more? Check out Sara’s website for Silvyn’s Tale that includes additional details about the book and a song she picked as its theme song, or buy the Paperback or EBook on Amazon

About the Author:

A born Kansan with southern roots, Sara did not grow up loving to write. She did, however, love stories. Hearing them, telling them, reading them… Only when she could not find a story that explored the questions she had inside of her did she begin writing them. Beginning as a search into the character of God and what His love is really like, her God took over from the start and used her writing to speak to the deepest questions in her soul. Sara does not think of herself as an author, but rather a scribe, for her books are only born from listening to God, who loves to speak truth through stories and inspires all of her books.

She uses the pen name “Sara Nicole” in honor of her grandmother, Sara Gene, who went to be with the Lord in 2011.

“LORD, You will establish peace for us,

since You have also performed for us all our works.”

– Isaiah 26:12, NASB –

Connect with Sara on her Social media links  Blog  Facebook  BookBub

Wednesday Writers–Vigilante’s Light by Jake Tyson

Tags

books, Excerpt from Vigilante’s Light, Jake Tyson, Story Behind the Story, Superhero fantasy/Christian fantasy, Vigilante’s Light, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest, Jake Tyson, will be bringing us something different. I don’t know about you, but I love to read in different genres, and I must admit, Jake’s book is a genre I love in secular movies, but haven’t yet seen in Christian fiction. Jack is a lover of super heroes and author of Vigilante’s Light, which is his take on a Christian-based Superhero (Superhero fantasy/Christian fantasy) novel with a touch of romance. In addition to giving us the background on the book, Jake has included an excerpt for your reading pleasure. So without any further ado, here’s Jake!

Welcome, Jake!

Thanks, Catherine.

Vigilante’s Light first took shape in the summer of 2016. I was a big fan of the show Arrow, a TV adaptation of the DC Comics superhero Green Arrow. As I watched that show, I thought about what a Christian-based superhero story would look like. The only one I was aware of was Bibleman. Although that brought up fond childhood memories, it didn’t inspire the same epic mythos as Arrow.

I began to formulate an idea of a Christian superhero of my own. Taking inspiration from Arrow, I also looked to a couple of other sources: the movie Beyond the Mask, a Christian movie about a vigilante during the Revolutionary War, and the music video of the for King and Country song “Shoulders,” which featured a man (or angel) in a hooded white outfit saving people in need. In particular, I was inspired by the end of that music video, which had a shot of the hooded man up high, looking out over his city.

I didn’t finish writing Vigilante’s Light in 2016. In fact, I got stumped about 40 pages in and left it alone. In the fall of 2018, shortly after graduating college, I picked up the idea again. This time, I reshaped the story from the ground up, creating my own city, redefining some of the character roles, and forming my original outline into something that could be the first book in a series, rather than a standalone novel. By the time I pitched the novel to Ambassador International, barely five of the original 40 pages were included, but Vigilante’s Light had become a story I could be proud of: a grounded take on a modern superhero story that integrated the faith elements I had always intended.

Vigilante’s Light

By Jake Tyson

Gideon Turner—doctor—scientist—vigilante.

After being captured in Venezuela by guerrillas and used as a genetic engineering experiment, Gideon finds himself with strange super-abilities.

When he is rescued and returns home to Sojourn City, it is in shambles. The police are understaffed and the poorest area, The Brooks, is torn apart by crime.

Gideon decides the city needs a vigilante protector, but at what price?

Excerpt:

When Gideon woke up, the sun was shining through the window at his back and to the left of his bed. He inhaled, rolled onto his back, and slowly let the breath out. He felt…refreshed. He wondered how long he’d slept. It hadn’t been later than eight or nine o’ clock when he’d gotten home. What time it was now?

He’d dropped into bed as soon as he possibly could. He’d hardly waited for the car to stop before opening the door and trudging up the sidewalk toward the house. As his father had unlocked the door, Gideon had been tempted to just crash on the couch, but he ultimately decided that he needed his own bed. He forced himself upstairs, mumbling good night to everyone, and he barely remembered entering his room or collapsing onto his bed.

He tried to sit up–and pain racked his body. He grimaced. All the beatings and prodding he’d suffered had finally caught up to him. The adrenaline from running, followed by the relief of rescue, had dulled the pain. But now, it hit him full-force.

Slowly, he pushed himself upright. Every nerve in his body seemed to scream at him. He looked at the alarm clock beside his bed. It was just after noon. He took a breath to steady himself and swiveled to put his feet on the floor. The house was too big to call out and hope someone was nearby; he’d have to get downstairs himself.

Gideon grabbed the edge of his bed and pushed. When he was on his feet, he shuffled toward the door. He realized he hadn’t even taken off his shoes before he’d fallen asleep. He was still in the same raggedy clothes he’d been rescued in. But he didn’t feel like changing. Not right now.

He reached for the door. The brass knob was cool on his hand–cooler than pretty much anything else he’d touched in the past year. He opened the door, went out, down the hall, and to the stairway. His mother was in the living room below, sitting on the couch facing the fireplace, her back to him, talking to…

He steadied himself on the banister.

“Jolie.” He hardly recognized his own voice.

Her head swiveled around, and she beamed. “Gideon!”

“Are you okay?” Mom asked.

He gritted his teeth and nodded. “Yeah, but I…think I need a doctor.”

Jolie’s smile disappeared. Both women jumped off the couch and ran up the stairs to his side. Jolie got there first; as she reached him, he leaned into her for support.

“I’ll call Doctor Edwin right now to let him know we’re coming,” Mom said. “Let’s get you down to the car.”

Gideon looked at Jolie as they walked down the stairs. Her dark hair and almost-black eyes contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. She was everything he’d remembered, and despite the pain, he wanted to just stand there and relish being in her presence again.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.” She smiled again. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me…too.”

The stairs were an agonizing affair, but finally, they reached the floor. Jolie helped Gideon out the door while his mother grabbed her cell phone and keys off one of the side tables. Gideon groaned as he stumbled out the door and to the car. Jolie sat beside him in the back seat, and he slumped against her.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too.” He gingerly wrapped his arm around her and gave her the best hug he could manage. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I knew I would.” Jolie beamed. “I never doubted it.”

Gideon smiled. As they drove to the hospital, the two of them just sat there, resting in each other’s arms. Gideon tried to ignore the pain racking his body, but it seemed to keep reminding him, I’m still here.

It seemed like forever, but they finally reached East Regional Hospital, where Dr. Edwin worked–where Gideon himself had worked, before his trip. Carl Edwin was a member of Refuge Church, where Gideon’s father pastored, and he had assured them that he was on call for them whenever they needed him. Jolie helped Gideon out of the car, while his mother ran to get a wheelchair.

Edwin was waiting for them just inside the hospital, and he led them back to an examination room.

“Let him lie down,” Edwin said.

Gideon held out a hand, and Jolie helped him to his feet. She brought him over to the bed and he pulled himself up. Edwin stepped up beside Gideon and began his examination.

Suddenly, Gideon worried that somehow, Edwin would find out about the light that had come from Gideon’s hands. Would that be the kind of thing that would show up on any scans the doctor did? Even as a doctor himself, Gideon had no idea what had happened to his body, and no idea how it would manifest itself.

“He’s definitely sustained some serious bruising,” Edwin said. “Not surprising, all things considered. There are no signs of internal bleeding, though. I’d like to do an x-ray to make sure he doesn’t have any broken bones.”

Gideon hoped that was allEdwin found.

Want to read more? You can find Vigilante’s Light at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Ambassador International Books

About the Author:

Jake Tyson, a journalism graduate from Central Baptist College, has been writing creatively since he was nine years old and has been a fan of superheroes and Star Wars for as long as he can remember. He is a resident of Conway, Arkansas, where he lives with his wife Jessica and works for Lifeword Media Ministry. He has also written a flash fiction short story, Joining the Team, for gohavok.com.

Connect with Jake on his Website, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter

Tasty Tuesdays–Rocky Road Buster Bars from Sharon Ledwith

Tags

cookies, Dessert, Recipes, Sharon Ledwith, Tasty Tuesdays, The Last Timekeepers, YA FAntasy

from Sharon Ledwith

Just when you thought it was safe to go into your pantry…BAM! You’re hit with a hankering for something sweet and chewy. I’ve got just the treat that will satisfy your taste buds, and perhaps take you on a nostalgic trip back to grandma’s kitchen. These Rocky Road Buster Bars are great for morning or afternoon breaks, and pair well with a cup of tea or coffee. With a total prep and bake time of 45 minutes, you can easily whip up a few batches for bridal or baby showers, or spoil your bookworm friends at the next book club meeting.

Rocky Road Buster Bars

1½ cups graham crumbs

½ cup butter, melted

1½ cups flaked coconut

1½ cups chopped pecans*

1 package (300 g/10.58 ounces) semi-sweet chocolate chips

1½ cups miniature marshmallows (we use the colored marshmallows)

1 can (300 mL/10 ounces) sweetened condensed milk

3 squares semi-sweet chocolate

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Line a 13×9-inch pan with foil or parchment paper, with ends of foil/paper extending over sides.

Mix crumbs and butter, press onto bottom of pan. Top with layers of coconut, nuts, chocolate chips and marshmallows. Drizzle with condensed milk.

Bake 25-30 minutes or until golden brown. Meanwhile, melt chocolate squares as directed on package.

Drizzle chocolate over dessert. Let stand until firm. Use foil/paper handles to lift dessert from pan before cutting into bars.

*Substitute dried fruit such as cranberries, raisins or chopped apricots for the nuts.

While you’re waiting for the bars to bake and set, take a seat in your favorite comfy chair and crack open one of my books. May I suggest a trip back in time with The Last Timekeepers?

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventures…

Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to be Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from the evil Belial—five classmates are sent into the past to restore balance, and bring order back into the world, one mission at a time.

Children are the keys to our future. And now, children are the only hope for our past.

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventure Series:

The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret, Book #2 Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and the teen psychic mystery series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter, and Smashwords. Look up her Amazon Author page for a list of current books. Be sure to check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.

Musings from a Writer’s Brain-One Step Nearer the Epilogue by Carol Browne

Tags

Carol Browne, Elves, epic fantasy, essay about life, Gateway to Elvendom, goblins, Musings from a Writer's Brain, The Elwardain Chronicles

from Carol Browne

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

The metaphor that likens life to a book is a common one. Viewing our progress through existence as a series of chapters appeals to our need to put things in boxes and compartments. Each chapter can be titled after a significant event or rite of passage: infancy; puberty; marriage; first job; and so on. There is no set number of chapters and each one may have different themes and moods. The length of each chapter is as variable as the length of the entire book; it is, however, generally assumed that a valuable lesson or learning experience should be included in the narrative.

The latest chapter in my own book of life is the one headed ‘Retirement’. I have longed to reach this chapter but I am fully aware of the potential dangers that lie within its pages. For many, retirement is the end of usefulness when we become a drain on society and not a contributor anymore. It can make us feel less important and rob us of our self-respect and purpose. We tell ourselves that we have nothing to look forward to but an eventual decline into infirmity. But, as with all previous chapters, we have a choice in how we approach this new status. It’s all a question of attitude.

We can embrace our new freedom because we have earned it, and we don’t have to let ourselves go or stop learning. We can still work if we want to, but now we can choose what work we do, and when. Retirement doesn’t have to mean bingo and chamber music, complaining about the younger generation, or behaving with dignity at all times. The contribution of the elders to society should be enormous because finally we have the time and financial freedom we need to change the world. It’s not just by doing voluntary work or becoming politically active. We are now more useful than ever before because we have a lifetime of knowledge and experience and we can use that to guide those who are still struggling through earlier chapters. I would encourage all my fellow oldsters to reject the idea that they are on the scrapheap, because the fun is only just beginning.

I’m hoping ‘the undiscover’d country’ is some way off for me yet, but when they come to write my epilogue I hope it will show me in a favourable light. I hope it will include my successes as well as my failures. I would like to think I had made a difference to the world and left it in a better condition than I found it, even if it’s in a small way. I have plans for this particular learning experience and trust that the epilogue will celebrate my success. Most importantly of all, once my book is finished, I hope those I leave behind me will give it a five-star review.

Just to prove to you sitting in a rocker all day is not in my future, here’s a peek at my latest epic fantasy. I hope you enjoy it.

His adventures in Elvendom left Godwin a changed man, and now bereavement has darkened his world.

In another dimension, a new Elvendom is threatened by the ambitions of a monstrous enemy. But who – or what – is the Dark Lady of Bletchberm?

And what has become of Elgiva?

Reeling from the loss of their Elwardain, the elves ask Godwin for help.

Transported into a strange world of time travel and outlandish creatures, will he succeed in his quest against impossible odds, or will the Dark Lady destroy everything the Elwardain fought to preserve?

Amazon Buy Links USA – UK

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in Stafford in the UK, Carol Browne was raised in Crewe, Cheshire, which she thinks of as her home town. Interested in reading and writing at an early age, Carol pursued her passions at Nottingham University and was awarded an honours degree in English Language and Literature. Now living and working in the Cambridgeshire countryside, Carol usually writes fiction but has also taken a plunge into non-fiction with Being Krystyna. This story of a Holocaust survivor has been well received.

Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter.