Wednesday Writers–Finding The Key Factor By Carole Brown

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book excerpt, Carole Brown, cozy mystery The Golden Touch, The Golden Touch, Wednesday Writers, writing tips

When beginning the story of THE GOLDEN TOUCH, Book Five of the Appleton, WV Romantic Mysteries, I needed a KEY factor. (Not to be confused with a spiritual or romantic element of the story). 

Here’s what I knew:

• the protagonists: Jazzi (Jazmine) Sanderson and Ryle Sadler, their careers and/or past, their personalities, their faith element
• the basic plot: mystery and romance
• the setting
• the first chapter

But I still didn’t have that thing—that emotion—the characters were searching for…until I, unknowingly hit upon it. What Jazzi and Ryle were both seeking, although unknown to either, was a place that felt like HOME. The place that makes a person feel content, relaxed and at peace, even when trouble is brewing, even when you’re still searching for that one person who makes the world go ’round for you.

Where was it? Appleton, West Virginia. The small town where everyone knew everyone and their business, or at least assumed they knew. Where friends were friends for life, even when that small town held secrets, trouble and problems.

Ryle, who was rich, innovative and smart, living in a big town and traveling across the country for work was happy, or thought he was. But when he chanced upon Appleton, West Virginia, small, friendly, clean and sometimes a nosy place, but where friends were loyal and ready to help in any way they could, Ryle realized he’d found that spot that felt like home. Adding that to solving the mystery and finding love, was the answer his heart had craved, even though he didn’t know it.

As for Jazzi, wild, beautiful young lady that she was, felt unloved by her adopted parents, and flew the coop from Appleton as soon as she was of age. What she didn’t realize, that instead of blaming others for her unhappiness, it was of her own making. It wasn’t until she returned to Appleton, more mature now, accepting of her own mistakes, and finding a meaning for her life, that her heart grasped the one place that could ever feel like home. Appleton.

Once that revelation that they’d found the place their hearts had sought for, although through different methods, it was then their hearts could open to accept the love facing them. And it was only then that both were able to relax enough to allow God to lead them in the right path. 

The Golden Touch, Book Five of the Appleton, WV Romantic Mysteries

By Carole Brown

Not again.

Ryle Sadler stared down at the financial statement lying on his desk. His investment firm had just sent him another record of overwhelming success. Time to sell his share in this stock.

Ryle came from the poor side of the tracks, but that had no bearing on his success in life—which he kept hidden from everyone, especially those in Appleton, West Virginia. But when he buys the local, rundown bed and breakfast, mysterious revelations from beneath the site are suddenly threatening to ruin his good standing with the citizens.

Then along comes Jazzi Sanderson. Jazzi has a reputation of being wild, but Ryle sees more than is on the top layer of this woman. Beneath that tough, wild streak lurks a woman who wants to be loved by the right person, a woman who is tender-hearted and who is just finding out that God is real.

Is Ryle and Jazzi’s worlds too far apart or can their differences help them solve the mystery that lies beneath Ryle’s bed and breakfast? Will the evil person behind it all be able to silence them, or can Ryle’s golden touch prevail in this endevor too?

The Golden Touch

Chapter One

Ryle Sadler stared at the unkempt bed and breakfast in front of him. The urge to buy this place was stronger than ever, and he couldn’t understand it. He’d never bought or invested in anything on an urge. He’d prayed about this crazy urge for sure. Many times. No answer came back from God. Only this confusing push to buy it. Now.

He hadn’t amassed his wealth by going on urges. No sirree. Coming from the poor side of town had taught him plenty, and two of those things were listening and learning. Those had gotten him where he was now.

The Golden Touch. That’s what the investors in the world called it, and that’s what he had. Or so they said. It scared him, truth be told, that everything he touched turned to gold. Didn’t matter whether it was stocks or an act of generosity in helping a struggling business person. Everytime—so far—had been successful.

But this, this business that Maisie, the owner, cared little about, was neither of those things. If he bought it, would it change his touch? Would it be the knife to cut the string of wins he’d experienced so far? Would it be his first failure? After all, what did he know about bed and breakfasts?

Nothing.

A young woman exited the place, her purple hair a distraction from her beautiful features. Toby and Amy Sanderson, Jazzi Sanderson’s sister and brother-in-law, had confided that she’d taken a room there to be on her own—in spite of the inn’s rundown condition. She didn’t know her own beauty or worth.

He’d had little to do with women. Too little time, and, frankly, no one so far, who’d garnered his attention long enough.

But this woman. Ryle’s heart gave an unusual ping forcing a frown on his face.

She saw him then, and gave a shy, little wave—a complete contradiction to her reputation—the smile on her face as bright as the sunshine from the heavens.

And then he heard the voice.

Invite Jazmine Ashley Sanderson to help you at the bed and breakfast.

No. That was crazy. What was wrong with him? He’d never done such a thing. Invested in businesses by using his money, yes, to do what he felt was his calling. But asking a woman he barely knew to help him get this place up and running? Would she laugh at him? Would the whole town of Appleton consider him the biggest fool ever to cross their path? Her sister, Amy, had been upset with her when Jazmine had refused the offer of staying with her. Why had she insisted on renting a room here, of all places?

She did have a reputation. And not such a good one.

What if she accepted, thinking it was a lark, an easy way to get some money, with no improvement in her personality? Or worse, be irresponsible? Could he trust her to have the same vision as he?

No, it wasn’t his responsibility what she did. But then, he didn’t think helping someone continue on the broken path they were on was beneficial either. Still, his calling was to help. What they did afterwards was their responsibility.

So, what’s it to be? Will you obey my direction on this?

The dark cloud suddenly covering the sun seemed to be frowning at him.

“I always have.” Ryle couldn’t even hear his own whisper as he mouthed the words.

And as suddenly, as it had been covered seconds ago, the sun popped from behind the cloud, sending its golden beams straight down to shine on the bed and breakfast.

Ryle gave up the struggle. It might be interesting—and a learning process for him—if this adventure was a failure. Time would tell.

The groan that escaped his lips assured him he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Want to read more? You can find The Golden Touch on Amazon

About the Author:

Besides being a member and active participant of many writing groups, Carole Brown enjoys mentoring beginning writers. An author of ten books, she loves to weave suspense and tough topics into her books, along with a touch of romance and whimsy, and is always on the lookout for outstanding titles and catchy ideas. She and her husband reside in SE Ohio but have ministered and counseled nationally and internationally. Together, they enjoy their grandsons, traveling, gardening, good food, the simple life, and did she mention their grandsons?

Connect with Carole on her   Personal blog: Facebook: Amazon Author Page:  Twitter: 

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

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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–Memories of Lasting Shadows by Michael Gryboski

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. Michael Gryboski, book excerpt, Memories of Lasting Shadows, Speculative Fiction/Political Thriller, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today’s guest author is Michael Gryboski who will be sharing a bit about his Speculative Fiction/Political Thriller Memories of Lasting Shadows and the word that inspired the story. Welcome, Michael.

Writing About the A-word.

Abortion.

Few words in the English language generate so much emotion, opinion, debate, arguments, rage, passion, and awkwardness when uttered at family gatherings. It has so much shock value whenever used in the entertainment industry over the decades. This includes The Godfather: Part II’s revelation that Michael Corleone’s wife had had an abortion rather than a miscarriage or a recent Saturday Night Live sketch in which the ghost of Susan B. Anthony surprises a group of young women by telling them to remember that “abortion is murder.” Efforts to desensitize the public to the word, such as a provocative T-shirt campaign from some years ago, have always failed.

The word is so touchy, so polarizing, and so divisive, that even those who find no moral objection to the procedure have launched a vast armada of euphemisms. As a part-time political junkie, I have pretty much heard them all. “Choice,” “pro-choice,” “supports choice,” “reproductive justice,” “reproductive rights,” “women’s healthcare choices,” “women’s reproductive choices,” “women’s health,” and so on. I once saw a campaign website in which the candidate supported “the right of women to make their own healthcare decisions.” I wonder how many people looked at that statement and just said “what in the blue heck does that even mean?” Sometimes, the political messaging borders on a Monty Python-styled declaration of “wink, wink, nodge, nodge.” 

In my novel Memories of Lasting Shadows, released last October by Ambassador International, the United States of America has finally moved past the perpetual argument. No longer do people consider one of the two sides a valid opinion. No longer are there candidates who promise to go a specific way on the issue, no longer are political debates centered on questions about the legality of the procedure. Friendships are no longer ended and family dinners are no longer disrupted if someone uses the a-word.

However, let us not forget the words of William Faulkner, who famously wrote that “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” There are still moments when the former controversy consumes space, usually under the banner of historical justice. Debates over school names, public figures weathering allegations of former wrongs, and memorials dedicated to victims abound. Many still obsess over the antiquated things, recognizing that even though the conflict is long over, vestiges still manifest to pick at, like wild dogs scrapping over the last slim helpings of meat found on the bones of an animal carcass.

In my book, journalist Roberta Sheridan and Senator Benjamin Pettus live in a world where abortion has lost its present power to divide, to evoke emotion, to ignite hostility, to advance uncivil discourse. However, that does not mean that the word and its history do not cast a lengthy shadow.

Memories of Lasting Shadows

Michael Gryboski

It has been forty years since the United States of America abolished abortion. The long debate, which brought so much division and discord, was finally brought to an end, and two generations of citizens have reached maturity in this new normal.

United States Senator Benjamin Pettus was alive when choice was the law of the land. A doctor by profession, over the past several years, he has struggled to preserve a sweeping federal healthcare law he helped create.

Roberta Sheridan was born and raised in a world where terminating an unborn child is both illegal and unthinkable. A devout Christian and principled journalist, Roberta is about to discover that the past is never truly gone.

Excerpt:

Roberta humored her friend and followed him into one of the chambers. The section had several items pertaining to Dr. Hood, one of the villains of the tour video. The walls featured photos of the man, one of which he gave what looked like a sadistic smile. Another showed him standing proud in front of his clinic. Glass boxes secured historic items from his handiwork. Some of the clamps and blades, a lab coat that still had splotches of dried blood, several small containers where he once held experimented samples of fetal tissue and tiny limbs, and even a broken wristwatch. Michael led Sheridan to a prominent image of Hood, standing with a group of others at a demonstration protesting the then-novel Supreme Court decision striking down the right to an abortion.

“You see him? You see what it says about what happened to him?”

“Same thing as the tour, Mike. He disappeared.”

“All right, all right,” said Michael, giving a dramatic pause. “Now, what if I told you that I have found Dr. Hood?”

Roberta smirked. “So, where was he this whole time? The Bermuda Triangle? Area 51? Maybe he was touring with Charolash.”

“No, no, Berta,” Michael said, tapping his phone screen a few times before turning the image so Roberta was able to see it. “He has been in plain sight for years.” Roberta saw the photo that Michael presented and was visibly disturbed by her disbelief.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she stated. “Mike, are you serious?”

“Very serious.”

Want to read more? You can find Memories of Lasting Shadows  at Amazon and Barnes and Noble

About the Author:

Michael Gryboski was born and raised in the Washington, DC, metropolitan area. He graduated from George Mason University with a bachelor of arts and then a master’s, both in history. In addition to writing fiction, Michael also writes news articles for a living. Michael would rather be correct than widely accepted.

Social Media Links: Facebook   Twitter   Instagram

Wednesday Writers–Snowbound in Winterberry Falls by Ann Brodeur

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Ann Brodeur, book excerpt, Christian romance, Christmas Read, Snowbound in Winterberry Falls, sweet Christmas romance, Wednesday Writers

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Today it’s Christmas in June as I welcome author Ann Brodeur and her debut novel Snowbound in Winterberry Falls to the blog. In addition to talking about characters, Ann has an excerpt from her book.

Welcome, Ann!

When I started writing what would turn out to be my publishing debut novel, Snowbound in Winterberry Falls, I looked to friends and acquaintances for inspiration in developing characters.

My heroine, Stephanie is a Type 1 diabetic. Diabetes is a disease that many members of my extended family have so it was natural to write about. Tilly Miller is the cousin of the hero, and quite outspoken when it comes to caring about Jason. She is fashioned after my best friend – the salt of the earth and someone I can trust completely.

One character I had fun creating was Mrs. Sweeney. She’s a culmination of several women in my life, many of whom have passed. She’s a refreshing character who speaks her mind without being confrontational.

Have fictional characters reminded you of someone you know in real life?

 

Snowbound in Winterberry Falls

by Ann Brodeur

Unwrapping their past – one secret at a time.

Owning her own PR firm is all reporter Stephanie Clark wants for Christmas, but the idea of running a prestigious election campaign in the country’s capital throws her stomach into knots. A last minute vacation road trip to focus and seek God’s direction for her life ends up in disaster when she gets caught in the worst snowstorm to hit Vermont in over a decade, crashing her into a small town and the one person she’d rather forget.

Former photojournalist Jason Miller hadn’t planned on being solely responsible for saving his family business from financial ruin. He’s barely keeping the newspaper in print, his News Editor has gone AWOL during the town’s most celebrated holiday festival, and reports of missing Christmas decorations have everyone on edge.

When a desperate knock at the newsroom door brings a ghost from Christmas past back into his life, can Jason make up for his prior behavior without breaking his promise to Stephanie’s father? Will Stephanie’s quest to solve the town’s Christmas caper—and uncover the truth about Jason’s disappearance—cost her everything she’s ever wanted?

EXCERPT

Here’s a fun scene starring Mrs. Sweeney during her first visit with Stephanie:

 “Oh, dear. I fear I’ve made you uncomfortable.” She clicked her tongue and patted the back of Stephanie’s hand. The older woman reclined in her rocking chair, the rhythmic sway of the chair squeaking with every push of her feet. A walking cane clattered to the floor nearby, and Stephanie righted it again, earning a beaming smile.

“Like you, dear, I love a good story.” Her mouth relaxed, her clear blue eyes seeming to focus on a distant memory. “Do you know I was in love with a newspaper man once?” Her eyes twinkled. She rested her gray head against the back of the chair. “Of course, Mother didn’t approve. He was a nosy busybody who made it his business to report on every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s escapades and then charged people to read it.” The girlish laugh brought an image to Stephanie’s mind of a much younger woman.

“What happened?” Stephanie shifted on the edge of the bed where she sat.

“I listened to Mother. I didn’t marry Charlie. I married Matthias.” Her expression softened at the mention of her husband’s name. “Matthias was a good and kind man. He owned the bank, so Mother was pleased with the match.” Her face moved through a series of emotions Stephanie couldn’t quite decipher.

“Matthias and I had some good times together, but sometimes I wondered what my life would have been if I’d married Charlie.” Tenderness infused her voice at the mention of her long-gone newspaper man.

“Ach. Look at me. I’m such a ninny when it comes to sappy romance. Charlie could woo a pig.” Mrs. Sweeney paused her rocking and sipped from her cup once more. “God’s plan was for me to marry Matthias, not Charlie. God gave us such a beautiful life.”

She replaced her tea things on the small, round table next to her and leaned on her cane, wobbling to her feet. Stephanie stood and braced the older woman’s feeble arms and waited for her to steady. Mrs. Sweeney squeezed Stephanie’s arm and hobbled to the door. She shut it, clicked the lock, and stood with her back to Stephanie for a moment before shuffling around on her heel. Stephanie raised an eyebrow and focused on the curious woman.

“I’ve read your article, Ms. Clark, and there are some details missing that are essential to getting your story right.” Her face grew stern, the picture of a school Marm. “I have a confession to make, but you must promise to help me achieve my ends and to not print a word of truth until after Christmas Day.”

Want to read more?

You can find SNOWBOUND IN WINTERBERRY FALLS in Ebook or Paperback at Amazon

About the Author:

ANN BRODEUR is an award-winning novelist who writes inspirational and contemporary romances offering sweet hope and happy endings.

When she’s not reading, writing, chasing after her kids or enjoying long chats with her husband, Ann can be found drinking coffee. That’s been reheated several times throughout the day. She aspires to drink a hot beverage in one sitting.

Connect with Ann on  her BLOG/WEBSITE  FACEBOOK  BOOKBUB

Wednesday Writers–Both Sides of the Border by Terry Overton

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book excerpt, Both Sides of the Border, ednesday Writers, faith, immigration, Terry Overton

Welcome to Wednesday Writers. Today’s guest author is Terry Overton who will be sharing an excerpt from her award-winning book, Both Sides of the Border. Welcome, Terry!

Both Sides of the Border

By Terry Overton

Dolores, Ernesto, and Emilio Sanchez are on a quest to America to find work and to save their family. Repeated droughts and a hurricane left their family farm unproductive. The Sanchez family, like so many others in Honduras, could no longer provide enough income to survive. A drastic change had to be made. With only their faith in God to see them through, the teenaged brothers and their twenty-year-old sister, set off for their new home and face threats from the cartel, corrupt police officers, starvation, and injury. Dolores relied on prayer and her own inner strength to protect her younger brothers on the journey.

Meanwhile, American Eva Jordan, shaking off scars from a disastrous marriage, is determined to start a new life by relocating from Virginia to the Texas side of border. Eva recently earned her Ph.D. and was now off to conquer the world and live a life of achievements and accolades. Despite her mother’s concern for her safety, Eva not only moves to Texas, but that very week she decides to take a vacation deep into Mexico to sharpen her Spanish before her new job begins. She boards a tour bus and soon meets a charming man who helps her to learn Spanish along the way. She is struck by the beautiful towns and people of Mexico, but slowly her eyes are opened to the dangers that are knocking at her front door.

Both Sides of the Border reveals the truth about the state of turmoil and threat in Mexico and the untold stories of immigrants, or “travelers” who bravely hopped aboard “el tren de le muerte” or the death train, otherwise called “La Bestia” or the beast. Often starving and afraid, the real-life travelers, assisted by the cartel, face the threat of death and injury or assault, almost daily. In the novel Both Sides of the Border, the fictional teens and their sister, jump aboard for the ride of a lifetime.

Unbeknownst to the Sanchez siblings, the woman from Texas, Eva Jordan, travels nearly the same route. Although their paths cross, Dolores and Eva do not meet until the end of their journeys-and then, after tragedies and near-death experiences, they realize they survived by God’s protection alone. The story is one of faith, strength, and character.

When two sides of the border collide, will there be hatred or unity? See how their lives are changed forever.

This debut novel was the recipient of the Firebird Book Award for Cross-Genre, Socio-Political Fiction, and Women’s Fiction (April 2021).

Excerpt

Eva clearly understood that her mother did not approve of her move or of “those liberal university people.”

“Oh, Mother,” Eva replied, “I’m sure there are conservatives and liberals in south Texas.”

“And don’t you know what is going on down there? I mean, those illegals come across every day. I saw on the news—”

Mom, you have got to stop watching cable news all the time. You need to get out more and, you know, talk to people.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes. I see plenty of people! I see people at church and in the women’s prayer group. And even they are worried about you. And me talking to people? You’re one to talk,” her mother said, giving her “the look.”

“Okay, Mom. Let’s eat,” she said, trying to change the subject before her mother could

begin the “When are you going to start dating?” questions.

 “Seriously, honey, when are you going to date someone again?”

Too late, Eva thought.

“I know that scoundrel of a husband you had was just awful. But there are others out there just waiting to meet a nice girl like you. Plenty of men out there, you know.”

Eva’s divorce was still raw. She didn’t want to talk about that with her mother again. She was over that dark phase of her life. She was moving on to a better future.

“Mom, I’m hardly a girl. I’m twenty-nine you know,” she said, diverting the conversation.

“Of course, I know you’re twenty-nine. I was there when you were born.” They both laughed.

“This is delicious,” Eva said, taking another bite of mashed potatoes and chicken-fried steak totally smothered in gravy.

“I’ll bet you won’t get food like this down where you’re going,” her mother remarked, taking a second helping of potatoes.

“No, probably not, Mom.” Eva agreed with her mother to keep from going down the road of comparing Mexican food with Mom’s Southern cooking.

“So, as I was saying, when will you start dating? All of that hard work and studying is over. Now you will have time for a social life,” her mother said, patting Eva’s hand.

“We’ll see, Mom. You know I will have to work really hard now to get tenure.”

“Oh, good grief. Don’t use work as an excuse. There’s nothing like a good, strong marriage to help you through everything.”

Her mother talked about perfect marriages as if she’d had one. Eva’s own father had abandoned the family when Eva was quite young. Perhaps being raised by a single mother provided the foundation for her own autonomy. She’d been expected to take on responsibilities from an early age that did not burden most children. She was proud that she didn’t need anyone. She could achieve whatever she set her mind to.

You Tube Official Trailer Link

.Want to read more? You can find Both Sides of the Border at Amazon and Barnes and Noble

About the Author:

Terry Overton obtained her Ph.D. in Psychology and her Ed. D. in special education. She taught in public schools and was a school psychologist and a professor before retiring in 2016. Her university experiences included teaching at Longwood University in Virginia, the University of Texas-Brownsville, The University of Texas-Pan American, University of Texas Rio Grande Valley, and Stephen F. Austin State University. She held positions as Dean and Department Chair during her tenure in higher education. Her areas of research included behavior disorders, learning disorders, autism, and research in higher education. She currently resides in Laguna Vista, Texas, near the Texas-Mexico border. She enjoys Biblical history and general Bible studies, writing, blogging, and playing golf.

Connect with Terry on

Facebook   Her WordPress blog or Twitter

Wednesday Writers–The Chronicles of the Red Silk Dress by Yasmine Phoenix

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book excerpt, fantasty, Magic, romance, The Chronicles of the Red Silk Dress, Wednesday Writers, Yasmin Phoenix

Welcome to Wednesday Writers! Author Yasmine Phoenix is our guest today sharing her magical fantasy stand-alone novel The Chronicles of the Red Silk Dress. The novel is Book Two in the Witches Brew Here’s a peek at the book. And welcome to you, Yasmine!

When love stalls, who are you going to call? Red a mystical and magical red dress created to help women discover love and recognize their self-worth.

Delphine Richards is the founder and CEO of Plum Events a successful party planning company in Chicago. The holidays are the busiest and Valentine’s Day is the last one of the season. Her employees work hard to create spectacular parties and stay out of Delphine’s way. She hates this day for lovers.

Kevin Poe, her fiancé, broke up with her a year ago on Valentine’s Day. Since then she’s dedicated her life to growing her business. Love won’t destroy her again.

Kevin Poe loves Delphine but her constant interference in his teaching career drove a wedge between them. When one of Kevin’s students needed him, Delphine neglected to tell him. That was the final straw. If Delphine couldn’t stop trying to change him, then they shouldn’t be together.

Enter Red, a mystical and magical red dress sent to help Delphine rediscover love and realize she can’t control everyone and everything – including herself.

EXCERPT

The laughter and chatter in the reception area stopped. The only sounds were feet beating retreat as employees scattered to their offices or found something to do not requiring being on the front line, hard, steady heeled steps came their way.
“Good morning, Delphine,” the receptionist said brightly.
“Yeah,” was the snarky response.
Gigi stood in the doorway. Patti rolled her eyes. This perky young thing was going to lose their money.
“Good morning, Delphine. Or should I call you Ms. Richards?” Gigi asked. Her voice switched from preppy to professional.
Delphine stopped and zeroed her sights on Gigi. Gigi stood her ground. Delphine moved toward her looked her up and down.
“Uh-huh. You’re Gigi. Welcome aboard.”
Delphine walked around her new employee, examining her.
“Your today’s agenda is on your desk,” Patti said.
“I’ve got a meeting at St. Valentine’s Church this evening. I told Father Leak we’d handle their holiday party, the silent auction, and dinner.”
“What? Delphine we’re overbooked as it is,” Janice protested.
One look from Delphine and Janice opened up her Outlook calendar and added the event.
“I’ve planned the perfect event for the parish. I want the parishioners to have a great time. I’ve already lined up sponsors, made a preliminary list of activities, and floor plan.” Delphine’s voice was the complete opposite of the festive event. She sounded like she was drawing up military plans for an invasion.
I’d love to work on the St. Valentine’s event, Delphine,” Gigi spoke up.
Janice’s mouth dropped open. She offered herself as a virgin sacrifice. She jumped into the volcano, willingly.
“I think St. Valentine’s Day is a great romantic holiday,” Gigi said not knowing how close she came to being struck through the heart by an arrow shot by Janice or Patti.
“Yes, it’s very romantic.” Delphine’s eyes closed. She took a deep breath. She exhaled, opened her sharp brown eyes and stalked out of the office.
Gigi watched her boss leave and turned her attention to her co-workers.
“I mean St. Valentine’s Day is so…so…romantic. Candy.”
“Diabetes,” Patti answered.
“Weight gain,” Janice added.
“Romantic dinners,” Gigi said.
“Expensive bill,” Patti answered.
“Worth a month’s groceries,” Janice said.
‘Sexy lingerie,” Gigi countered.
“Doesn’t fit after the dinner and candy,” Janice said.
“Jewelry?” Gigi asked.
“Expectations never match reality or the payments,” Janice said.
“What about flowers?” Gigi asked.
“Allergies,” Patti said.
“Dead in a week,” Janice snapped.
Gigi placed her hand on her hip. “Are you two anti-romance?”
“Oh no, child. I have dinner reservations for my husband and me. I booked a babysitter Christmas. Although we have to pay double,” Janice said.
“I’m working our party at the Peninsula.” Patti winked. “I made sure the odds are five males to one woman.”
Janice laughed. “I thought I was the accountant.”
“Does Delphine hate St. Valentine’s Day?” Gigi finally asked.
“Let’s just say she’d shoot Cupid with one of his arrows if she could,” Patti counseled.
“Why?”
“Long story. Long heartbreaking story, pun intended. And if you like your job, never, never, ever mention why you love Valentine’s Day around her,” Janice warned.

BUY LINK

Yasmine ‘Yas’ Phoenix was born and raised in Virginia but calls Chicago home. She loves tennis, professional and amateur and plays in local leagues. Her writing block is the four major Grand Slams, Indian Wells, and other tournaments. No, she can’t tape then watch. Yas loves to read, especially murder mysteries. She is a Terry Pratchett, Discworld fan, and scans the news for potential plot ideas. Melding romance and paranormal in her stories is her goal. Yas always asks the question, “What if?” She is a sucker for old black and white movies like Casablanca on one hand, and Deadpool on the other. She believes her family is her greatest gift and support.

Learn more about Yasmine Phoenix on her website. Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Wednesday Writers– Excerpt from Exile of Elindel by Carol Browne

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book excerpt, Carol Browne, Elves, Fantasy, The Exile of Elindel, Wednesday Writers

Today’s Wednesday Writers guest is author Carol Browne. Carol is sharing an excerpt of her epic fantasy novel The Exile of Elindel, The Elwardian Chronicles Book 1. Welcome. Carol!

Elgiva, a young elf banished from Elvendom, must seek shelter among the Saxons as her only hope of surviving the coming winter.

Godwin, a Briton enslaved by the Saxons, is a man ignorant of his own inheritance and the secret of power he possesses.

A mysterious enemy, who will stop at nothing to wield absolute power over Elvendom, is about to make his move.

When destiny throws Elgiva and Godwin together, they embark upon the quest for the legendary Lorestone, the only thing that can save Elvendom from the evil that threatens to destroy it.

There is help to be found along the way from a petulant pony and a timid elf boy but, as the strength of their adversary grows, can Elgiva’s friends help her to find the Lorestone before it falls into the wrong hands?

EXCERPT
The night was waning when Elgiva woke, wondering where she was. The dark ceiling of Joskin’s cave hung above her, and everything had a reddish glow, cast by the embers of the fire. She slid from under the fur coverlet, her skin tightening at the loss of its warmth, and searched for her leather sandals.

Something had woken her, something that waited outside the cave. A runnel of dread ran down her spine.

She had an inexplicable sense of impending danger, but it was too insistent to ignore. An unnamed instinct stopped her from alerting her companions. She must face this menace alone.

She left the cave as quietly as she could. Her heart pounded in her throat as she peered between the rowan trees and searched the night. Whatever had awakened her, it beckoned. She held her breath and listened, but her ears detected nothing, save for a silence as dark and empty as an abandoned crypt.

It would soon be daybreak, but the sun had yet to rise, and the dark beyond the cave swarmed with potential horrors. She stepped out from among the rowans, relying on her acute senses to make out her surroundings. An unnatural calm gripped the night and as her sandals whispered against the cold grass, they sounded abnormally loud. She feared they would betray her presence.

After a while, she came to a stop and searched the trees. Thin strands of mist curled along the ground, cold and clammy, like an exhalation of sickness.

She hugged her shoulders, knotted her fingers in the cascade of her hair, and shivered in her ragged robe. All around her, the silence seemed to be drawing into focus.

“Who is it?” Her throat was too dry for her purpose. She swallowed and licked her lips. “Who’s there? I know you’re there. I can . . . I can feel you!”

Feel you.

A flash of silver sliced through the dark, and Elgiva gasped in fear. Her arms came up to shield her face as the beam struck a rock several yards ahead. It exploded with a whoosh and sent up thousands of splinters of light, which fell to the ground and sizzled in the mist.

A shape now stood upon the rock, its form concealed in a black, hooded cloak.

Elgiva clutched the amulet to her breast. Her hands were white with terror. “In the name of Faine, who are you? What sort of trick is this?”

A soft, sly voice spoke back to her. “Why should you fear magic?”

“What do you want?” she pleaded, her voice a croak of fear.

“To see for myself.”

“To see what?”

The dark shape sniggered, but made no answer. Instead, it swept its cloak aside, and a cloud of sparks flew out and covered the ground with beads of light.

Elgiva stepped back unsteadily, resolved to flee.

“Stay!” commanded the creature.

It raised a skeletal hand, and the forefinger swung towards Elgiva and pinned her against the darkness, holding her like a rivet of bone. No elf, no wilthkin, ever owned such a hand. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her. This had to be a nightmare; she was still asleep in the cave. But no, it was all too real.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she cried. “I have . . . I have an amulet!”

The creature laughed derisively. “I am Death, and I have come for you.”

It began to radiate a sickly green light, enveloping itself in a caul of brilliance that pulsated with force. The light grew in size until the trees behind it were bathed in its angry glare. It reached for Elgiva, like a foul stench creeping along a breeze, and she was helpless. The creature’s power throbbed in the darkness.

Within the taut coils of her fear, her instincts screamed at her to run, but her limbs had turned to stone.

Siriol, Siriol, help me . . . help . . .

With a shriek of glee, the creature increased the throb of its power. Elgiva’s mind was suddenly invaded by an inexplicable force. She became divorced from herself and watched from a great distance, waiting for the horror to unfold.

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.

Wednesday Writers-Interview with Alice K. Arenz, author of A Question of Survival

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A Question of Survival, Alice K. Arenz, book excerpt, Christian fiction, faith, hope, interview with Alice K. Arenz, spousal abuse, suspense, Wednesday Writers, Women’s Fiction

Today’s Wednesday Writers guest is author Alice K. Arenz. Today I’m talking with Alice about her latest release, A Question of Survival. Be sure to read to the end for an excerpt from this Women’s Fiction Suspense.

Welcome, to the blog, Alice, and congratulations on finishing a book that was 40 years in the making. I recently read A Question of Survival, and although it deals with spousal abuse and other heavy issues, I feel it is a well-written, thoughtfully constructed story that can help bring these issues to light. It certainly touched my heart.

Hi, Catherine! Thank you so much for having me on your blog today. AND, for the compliment. You’ve made my day!

1. I know from reading other blogs about your book that A Question of Survival started with stories of your family’s exploration of the snowy Colorado Rockies where you stayed in the car with your 6-month old and waited for their return. Having read the story, which, by the way, kept me up way past midnight, I’m wondering, given the many starts and stops you’ve described, which part of the book came first: the winter storm story or the heroine Jessica’s domestic abuse story?

Sorry about keeping you up—though that, too, is a compliment! 🙂

You’re right, there were a lot of starts and stops through the years—but the answer to your question is an easy one: the original novella started with Jessica snowbound on a mountain pass with the why of how she got there told in flashbacks. I always knew the story wasn’t as complete as it should’ve been, and that haunted me. But, no matter how much I wanted to “finish” her story, something held me back. I believe it was God telling me it wasn’t the right time. Till now.

• From my own experience in writing dramatic scenes I can easily weep at the typewriter. You deal with some heavy social issues in the book—spousal abuse, suicide, miscarriage, and betrayal—how did those affect you while you were writing them?

There were a lot of tears, frustration, headaches, and even more prayer. Every time I tried to return to Jessica’s story, I thought I’d prepared myself for the onslaught of emotions. Needless to say, I never succeeded. It wasn’t until last January when the manuscript came out of the closet once again, that I really listened to God’s leading in finding the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. And with the COVID pandemic, that wasn’t always easy. But He reminded me that until Jessie’s story was completed, she remained in limbo. And, in many ways, so did I.

• You write across the spectrum of genres: Mysteries, Cozy Mysteries, Suspense, Romance, Romantic Suspense. How hard was it, aside from the long writing time, to switch gears and write a Women’s Fiction about abuse?

To be honest, I don’t really think about it. I fully believe that God just takes over. I get hints now and again, like a person’s name, maybe a location (almost always fictional), but that’s about it. When I’ve tried to “go it alone” so to speak, I don’t get very far. Even when signing up to be part of a novella set, I wouldn’t commit until I felt His leading. Most people would think I was nuts for saying this, but it’s true. Hopefully, not the part about me being nuts…

Okay, let me give you an example. When I was about two-thirds into The Case of the Bouncing Grandma, I wanted to know how all the mysteries were going to wrap up, how the manuscript would end. I kept praying for the answer, kept writing what I was given each day, but really, really wanted the answer. I didn’t have a clue! After a day of rapid-fire typing at the computer, I asked God for a hint, something that would show me the end of Glory’s story. In the middle of my shower that night, He finally answered—with one sentence: “And then he kissed me.” A month and a half later, it was, indeed, the end of the book!

You know, when I first started writing Survival, I’d never heard the term “Women’s Fiction.” There was a story that demanded it be told, a young woman whose life was in shambles, and the perfect setting. The moment I saw the vista from that backcountry location in Colorado, shut inside my brother-in-law’s Bronco with my six-month old daughter, I KNEW something powerful had taken hold of me.

• One more question about the book, before I ask some more generic questions. I’m dying to know if you did any tromping around in the snow so you could accurately describe the heroine’s winter snow experiences.

I spent a lot of time on sledding hills in Alaska when I was a kid. 😉 Later, as an adult, I tromped through plenty of snowdrifts, chasing after my kids in Missouri. Once you’ve navigated knee high—and higher—snow with varying degrees of “hardness,” the experience stays with you.

.

• Keep reading because Alice has an excerpt at the end of the interview. You won’t want to miss it! Now on to some fun questions–What snacks, if any, are in your office right now?

I write in the kitchen, so that’s kind of a loaded question. However, if I were in my old office, there wouldn’t be any food around. Only water. Food’s a distraction.

• Are you a morning writer, afternoon, evening, or midnight oil writer?

Any and all of the above. It all depends on how urgent the need to write happens to be.

• What’s the first book you ever remember reading as a child?

I had what I called record books, where you listen to the record—actually a vinyl 45—and follow along with the Little Golden Book. I loved Cinderella when I was very small. Once I learned to read, I devoured anything I could get my hands on.

• What’s the book you are reading now?

Actually, I’m not reading anything. Taking a break. I’ve watched a lot of Hallmark Christmas movies, though.

• Name three interesting things most people don’t know about you.

I love lighthouses, butterflies, and the idea of a unicorn.

1. Is there anything I haven’t asked about your book that you’d like the reader to know?

Um… the subject matter is difficult, yes, but there’s something upon which I focus more attention. I look at A Question of Survival as a story of hope in a future beyond a damaged past. Faith, hope, and determination are all part of Jessica’s story.

I imagine that’s what everyone who deals with a damaged past hopes for, too. Thanks for being part of the blog today, Alice.

Now on to the excerpt!

A Question of Survival

by Alice K. Arenz

Excerpt

Chapter 1

He knew exactly how to hurt me so it wouldn’t leave any marks—at least on the outside. Would I ever be capable of doing the same to him?

I asked myself that question every time he abused me. It didn’t matter whether it was through careless words or deeds… or with his hands. Oh, the hands stung more, but the words stayed with me long after the redness of the slap or the bruises faded away. The comments were like barbed wire poking and sticking me, a constant reminder of all the ways I could never measure up to his level of perfection.

The rhythmic tick of the ceiling fan and clicking of the pull chain from each revolution pierced my brain in much the same way as the harsh hundred-watt bulbs in the light—all things to his specifications.

Too much illumination, too much sound, too many thoughts, too many emotions…

Huddling in the corner where I’d sought solace, Domino, my one true companion, inched forward on her belly. Even my little dog knew to fly under the radar when Jonathan was in one of these moods. Something that happened more and more frequently.

Domino crept onto my lap and whimpered. It was a soft cry, barely audible, something only we could hear—a cry from the heart between the two of us.

I hugged her to me, holding back tears that threatened to fall. Jonathan hated when I cried. Since it would only make him angry and more disagreeable, what was the use?

Burying my face into her soft fur, I thanked God for my little dog and her companionship. I’d never been allowed a pet, wasn’t allowed friends that weren’t preapproved by Jonathan. But even he couldn’t dismiss a gift from my formidable grandmother.

Drawing a deep breath, I peered around the dresser and wished for a way to be absorbed into the wall behind me. A nice thought, but imagination didn’t count when dealing with Jonathan. Once you were in his reality, that’s where you remained.

He’d gone into the bathroom to shower after the … encounter. He’d expect me to be ready by the time he was finished.

You can find A Question of Survival at Amazon.

A note from Catherine:

As someone who has read several of Alice’s books, if feel this is a must-read novel from this author. She handles not just one tough subject, but several, with great care and in a clean, non-graphic manner. Even though I was certain the heroine would find her way out of her situation,  Alice’s writing drew me into the story and had me rooting for Jessica as she suffered and grew and learned how to deal with her fears and trials. I became so emotional invested that I wanted to reach into the pages and throttle Jessica’s abusive husband. Although the story may be hard to read at times, the hope that lies in the book makes it worth the read.

About the Author:

Mysteries, Cozy Mysteries, Suspense, Romance, and Women’s Fiction–writing across the spectrum with a Pinch of Humor and a Twist of Faith.

Alice K. Arenz has been writing since she was a child. Her earliest publications were in the small, family-owned newspaper where her articles, essays, and poems were frequently included. A member of American Christian Fiction Writers, Arenz is a Carol Award winner and two-time finalist. She writes “clean” fiction as well as Christian fiction in a variety of genres and lengths.

Follow Alice at: Amazon: BookBub: Goodreads

Christmas Reads—Hiding from Christmas by Alice K. Arenz

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Alice K.Arentz, book excerpt, boxed set Murder Mysteries and Romance in Tarrytown Missouri, Christmas reads, Christmas romance, clean romance, Hiding from Christmas

HIDING FROM CHRISTMAS

By Alice K. Arenz

No matter how hard she tries, Maddie Kelley can’t seem to fit in at Ornamental, a company founded by her great grandfather and his best friend. Now, after yet another screw-up, she’s been sent into the “enemy’s” camp—two hours away from home for the next two months.

A punishment or a blessing?

Her life is turned upside down when the mundane turns unexpected, and she finally discovers where her heart truly lies.

This is the fourth novel set in the fictional Missouri community of Tarryton. Come visit old friends and make some new ones!

Excerpt from Hiding From Christmas

“You can run, but you can’t hide!” My co-worker’s voice bellowed. “I know you’re back here, Maddie.”

Holly Denton lumbered past me, intent on searching the storage closet on the opposite side of the hallway. All the huffing and puffing should have made me feel guilty. I was, after all, the cause of the extra effort she expended.

I should feel guilty but didn’t. Did that make me a bad person? I hoped not.

Besides, I wasn’t hiding. Long before Holly became the official—in her mind—holiday queen of Ornamental, I’d created this secret little nook in the copy supply room. No one knew about it but me… and Daddy. He’d helped set up the false “wall,” brought in a comfy chair, a reading lamp, and an assortment of books. Of course, that had been a long time ago when I’d needed a place to hang out after school. He would never have guessed I’d still be using it fifteen years later when I was supposed to be working. If he was alive, he’d know right where to look.

But if he were, I’m certain I’d no longer need a secret hideaway.

The door to the storage room opened with a whoosh followed by the distinctive sound of the latch catching before it closed with a little bang. When Holly sighed, I pictured the straight line of bangs across her forehead ruffling. The action usually preceded a roll of her dark brown eyes and shake of her head. Her signature expressions when dealing with me. Why she didn’t give up and leave me alone…

Lindy. My sister had to be the driving force behind Holly’s persistence. Now it was my turn to sigh.

I loved this place—not just my special hideaway, but the company. I’d grown up in the offices and hallways of Ornamental, the business my great-grandfather and his best friend, James MacKenna, founded over eighty years ago. Since that time, there had always been a place for family within the company. It had been the families’ bond that made Ornamental a household name. Not like Hallmark, of course, but still well-known. From the humble beginnings of handmade Christmas ornaments, the business branched out into figurines, collectibles of all kinds, everyday knick-knacks—why, we even had a bridal division. If it’s decorative, we not only designed it but made the items right here in the USA!

The MacKennas had always been more on the creative side of things, while the Kelleys’ strengths lay in the business of day-to-day operations. My sister and brother, Jay, fit right in. Me, not so much.

A check of my watch, followed by the vibration of the phone in my pocket, gave me a fifteen minute warning before the meeting with my sister in her office. It was enough time to stop by my cubicle and pick up the folders Lindy would want—probably to pass the work along to someone more qualified to do it than me. Before leaving my sanctuary, I grabbed the Tupperware container of cookies, hoping they’d be the right “softening” agent to quell my sister’s wrath.

Not wrath. Lindy rarely got angry with me. Or, if she did, she managed to hold back so I didn’t actually see it. No, it was more disappointment. Overwhelming disappointment.

I managed to slip out unseen and only had to smile and nod to a few people between my desk and Lindy’s office. Her admin waved me inside without looking up from her monitor. That wasn’t a great sign.

Lindy had her back to the door when I entered. It was obvious she was on the phone and from the “um’s,” “uh huh’s,” along with an occasional “right” and “I see,” I was fairly certain she was speaking with our mom. I closed the door quietly, sending a prayer heavenward that the subject of discussion wasn’t my most recent screw-up.

I set the Tupperware on my sister’s desk at about the same time she whirled around to face me.

“Mom, Maddie’s here now. I’ll put you on speaker.” She pressed a button on her desk phone. “Can you hear me okay?”

“Thank you, Lindy.” Mom’s voice was clear and steady as always—not even the slightest hint of being upset or concerned. “Hello, dear. How are you this morning?”

“A little embarrassed about—”

“Let’s just put that behind us, shall we? We all know you’re doing your best, Maddie. We’ll find something more up your alley. Your own little niche. You’ll see.”

With that, there was no more “shop-talk,” as my mom always referred to it. The three of us talked a little about Thanksgiving, which was less than a month away, and how good it would be to have the whole family together for the long weekend. As Lindy and Mom chatted about the need to support my brother and his new wife as they embarked on hosting their first Kelley family holiday, I made myself comfortable. They’d be awhile.

Want to read more? You can find Hiding from Christmas in the boxed set

MURDER, MYSTERIES, & ROMANCE IN TARRYTOWN, MISSOURI

at AMAZON

Hiding from Christmas is one of the four books in Murder, Mysteries, & Romance in Tarryton, Missouri. This four-book boxed set contains the full-length books that take place in the fictional Missouri town of Tarryton. The books include The Case of the Bouncing Grandma, The Case of the Mystified M.D. (both cozy mysteries from the Bouncing Grandma Mystery Series), The Wedding Barter (a romance with a twist), and Hiding From Christmas (a fun, light romance).

Or look for Hiding from Christmas as a single book at AMAZON

Either way you’ll get a fun read!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alice K. Arenz has been writing since she was a child. Her earliest publications were in the small, family-owned newspaper where her articles, essays, and poems were frequently included. A member of American Christian Fiction Writers, Arenz is a Carol Award winner and two-time finalist. She writes “clean” fiction as well as Christian fiction in a variety of genres and lengths.

Follow Alice at  her Amazon Page: BookBub: Goodreads

Wednesday Writers–Forget the Mess–It’s Time for a Story with Donna DeLoretta Brennan

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book excerpt, Catherine Castle Wednesday Writers series, Donna DeLoretta Brennan, short stories Forget the Mess It's Time for a Story, women's fiction

 

 

Today’s Wednesday Writers guest is Donna DeLoretto Brennan. She’ll be talking about one of my biggest issues and the jumping off point for her contemporary women’s fiction book Forget the Mess—It’s time for a Story! There’s also an excerpt. Welcome, Donna!

 

Confessions of a Procrastinator

By Donna DeLoretto Brennan

I often get overwhelmed with all the things I have to do as a wife, mother, author, and procrastinator.

It’s like a speeding merry-go-round that I can’t step off of. When I’m overwhelmed it’s easier to procrastinate; when I procrastinate for long periods, the other stuff piles up and becomes even more overwhelming.

For example, the lunch dishes need to be washed and I have to edit the next chapter of my novel; but I’m hitting a slump. So I take a break to do something a little more enjoyable—but it has to be something I can convince myself has a beneficial purpose. Facebook, I reason, is just such a thing. It helps me reconnect with old friends and maintain contact with new friends.

But Facebook can be like a black hole. You go on it for twenty minutes and when you look at the clock four hours have gone by. And now it’s time to make dinner, but first I have to empty the sink and I forgot to defrost the roast I wanted to cook, so I need to find something else fast. And that next chapter of my novel goes unedited today.

My solution is to “procrastinate in bursts”. Alexia is my friend in this endeavor. When I go on Facebook, I say, “Alexia, set a timer for thirty minutes.” Then, when thirty minutes have passed, she chimes at me. And, hopefully, I log off Facebook and start being productive again.

Reading a good book is another type of break I’ll allow myself. Usually, at the beginning of a book I can put it down after a chapter or two and get back on task. (Returning to it later, of course.) But sometimes, especially near the end, the book is hard to put down. All those hooks at the end of each chapter and the tension and pacing—I love the book and the world it transports me to, but the stuff in the real world that I have to do keeps mounting up while I’m away.

One solution is to read short stories or articles in magazines. It doesn’t take as long, and it’s easy to put down (for now) and finish later. And the short break does help me to relax from the overwhelm and get back on track.

That’s the idea behind my collection of short stories. Each story is intended to take you away from your current stress and worries, but they’re short, so you aren’t gone that long. You can either read another story right away, or put it down and pick it up later when you need another break.

Forget the Mess—It’s time for a Story!

Genre: Women’s contemporary fiction

When life starts to fill with mindless chores and endless to-do lists, take a mini-break to relax and reenergize. This book contains six stories to help you forget about the dishes that need to be washed or the laundry that needs to be put away. Forget the mess for now, and enjoy a story. The mess will still be there, waiting for you, when the story is finished.

• My Good Son – The son she remembers is missing; and who is this man calling her “Ma”?
• Pretense – Sister-relationships can be complicated, especially if you’re afraid to tell the truth.
• Another Day – Clara looks for a way—and a reason—to keep going.
• Spectator – When watching other people’s lives is more interesting than living your own, maybe you need to take some action.
• Taking Care of His Wife – Brad promised to take care of Megan forever—but he never said exactly how he would do that.
• Love Your Frenimies – When Jesus said to love your neighbor, he couldn’t have meant Gina’s neighbor, Anna.

 

Excerpt from Love your Frenemies, the last short story in the collection:

Finally, after almost an hour of fussing and whimpering, Ella is sound asleep and I can lie her down in the playpen for her nap. I take a moment to wonder at her small figure lying there so peacefully and content, her tiny lips curved into a soft smile that melts my mommy-heart and makes me forget the screaming fusspot she was less than thirty minutes ago.

I glance at the clock. Oh, no! It’s three-fifteen.

I rush to the side door to bring Fritz in before the neighbor kid, Peter Jacob, starts tormenting my dog into a frenzy. Just as I reach for the doorknob I hear that little Yorkie barking his head off outside. Before I have the door fully open, Ella’s screams cause my shoulders to tense and my temper to flare. I see little Peter Jacob scurrying away from the chain-link fence. He glances over his shoulder and we make eye contact. I am certain that’s a smirk on the little bugger’s face.

“Peter Jacob, what did I tell you about agitating Fritz?”

He doesn’t respond. He just hurries his chubby little legs up his driveway to his front door. He pulls open the screen and hollers, “Hey, Mom! I’m Home.”

The door slams behind him.

Fritz is still yapping away, and Ella is exercising her lungs at full volume. Just another day in the neighborhood.

Want to read more? Forget the Mess—It’s Time for a Story is available in paperback form at Amazon. A kindle version will be available soon.

 

About the Author:

Donna DeLoretto Brennan was a technical writer for over ten years before becoming a computer programmer. Since leaving the corporate world after her twins were born, she’s had short stories, interviews, and nonfiction articles published online and in print magazines. She’s speaks at writing conferences and other events.

She’s a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group (GLVWG). She’s served in various capacities on the GLVWG board, including several terms as Conference Chair. She’s always looking for opportunities to encourage others and to share what she’s learned.

Donna’s website is http://www.degunkinglife.com/.