Thursday, December 31, 2015

Happy New Year's Eve!

All I have to say is have a fun and safe New Year's Eve. 

  • Don't drink and drive. 
  • Don't drink and have sex with strangers. 
  • Don't drink and set yourself on fire. 
  • Don't drink and get into philosophical arguments with others who have been drinking.
  • Don't drink and challenge your buddies to target practice with your new semi-auto in the backyard. 

Other than that, have a great time! 

I hope 2016 is going to be YOUR biggest, best year ever. 

Monday, December 28, 2015

Unused Gift Certificates Available

I gifted my books all over creation and further. Some people just didn't pick up their gifted book. I guess they didn't know they could just take the credit and buy something else. Since those credits are now in my account (that'll teach the ingrates!), I can only give them away in the form of a gift audio book.

They'll just sit there all shivering and lonely like puppies chained up in the snow UNLESS you want me to use one to buy you a special book. Pick an audio book you'd like to try out from the pix below. You can also click the link to go to audible.com to read the description of each book.

Let me know which one you'd like and give me your email address so I can send it to you. Mail your request to me at mdasef(AT)comcast.net. You know how to change (AT) to @. This offer ends when I run out of credits at audible.com.


Thursday, December 24, 2015

Happy Yule (and SatPanHanKwaXAth)

Tis the season, as they say. Say what? Yeah, I made up that combo-holiday greeting. Covers just about everything celebratory throughout the winter doldrums. So, no matter what persuasion you follow, there's got to be something to brighten the soggy/cold season.

YuleA Norse mid-winter celebration of the turning of the days from shorter to longer. Yay, we made it halfway through winter! Woot! Of course, the word gave us the tradition of the Yule log, a big chunk of wood burned in the fireplace and something large and meaty being roasted over said fire. It originated from the mid-winter celebrations (see Saturnalia) and applied to the Wild Hunt and Odin. We can blame King Haakon I for deliberately co-opting a perfectly good pagan celebration and dedicating it to the fictitious birth of Christ. That was a big miss regarding seasons since everybody knows shepherds watch their flocks at night only in the Spring and Summer, certainly not in the dead of winter. Skoal to Odin orJölföðr. See how this alternative name for the Norse god being applied to the celebration?

Saturnalia: The Romans liked mid-winter to celebrate something, so Saturn got the festival. This one was usurped for the Christmas myth. Don't get all twisted. Christmas is not a celebration for Jesus. It's a way to get the Pagans to sign up.

Besides Saturn, other pagan dieties are celebrated for much the same reason. Mithra, Horus, Zeus, even Hercules. Christians didn't steal the celebration until 400 AD. Historical accounts have Christ born in the spring, but that would have interfered with the theft of Oestra, the spring festival of fertility.


Pancha Ganapati: The Hindu solstice celebration lasts five days (the Hindus really know how to party). The celebration is in honor of the elephant god Ganesha, who is the patron of arts and guardian of culture. Each day is celebrated by a different color which have special meanings for Ganesha. Golden Yellow creates a vibration of love and harmony within the family, Royal Blue for love and harmony between neighbors and friends, Ruby Red for harmony with business associates, Emerald Green celebrates art and culture, and the last day (which happens to be December 25th) is Brilliant Orange for love and harmony for all. The holiday is celebrated with lights and tinsel, but with a nice picture of Lord Ganesh rather than a tree.

Hanakkuh: This year, the beginning of Hanakkuh fell on December 6th. What a perfect time for the Festival of Lights for those of the Judaic persuasion. Since the Jewish calendar is based on different dates than the western one, liberal Jews can have their Hanakkuh, and still celebrate Christmas and Kwanzaa with their friends. Anyone want a convertible hanakkuh bush? Everybody can party like it's 5775.



Kwanzaa: Created in 1966, Kwanzaa was made up by a California
guy to highlight African-american culture. Cool thought, but I'd just as soon we'd say: "What? Obama is black? Wow, I didn't know that." Keeping separate ensures separateness. Hey! Doesn't that look like a Menorah?

More recently, Kwanzaa is celebrated in conjunction with Christmas since many African-Americans are Christian. I suppose those of the Muslim faith can also celebrate Kwanzaa since the major winter holy day for Muslims was way back in November.


Christmas: A usurpation of the mid-winter Saturnalia Festival and Jule. St. Patrick was big on keeping the frolicking holidays, but bending them to his own purpose. Historical records seem to place the actual birth of Jesus in March or April. Facts don't get in the way of the commercial spending binge. All hail the Almighty (dollar/euro/pound/yen).

The big bruhaha every year in the US was all the stores who decided that Thanksgiving was a great day for their employees to not be with their family in a celebration of thanksgiving. So, they opened their doors and let the crowds rush in. Christians don't have to worry about atheists having some pretend war on Christmas. Christians are their own worst enemies. Ask the Pope.

Atheist/Agnostic/Pastafarian: The godless like holidays as much as the next person. They just don't have an official date for the FSM's birth celebration. FSM, you ask? Flying Spaghetti Monster has become the avatar for folks that think the FSM is just as realistic as any other god.


So, whatever you celebrate around this time of year, enjoy, be happy, and don't drink too much then drive around endangering others. Stay home and get smashed.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Bad Spelling Audio Excerpt - Speaking to the Dead


Bad Spelling - Book 1 of Witches of Galdorheim
Chapter 4 - Speaking to the Dead 
A klutzy witch, a shaman's curse, a quest to save her family. Can Kat find her magic in time? 

Amazon $13.08 Free with Audible Membership
Audible $14.95 Free with Audible Membership
iTunes $14.95

Kat's aunt, Thordis, concerned for her niece's lack of magical talent, decides to have a talk with Kat's father. Since he's half-way between life and death, AND burined in an ice cave, Thordis has to take extreme measures to get through to Boris' frozen brain.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Bad Spelling Audio Excerpt - Cry Wolf

Bad Spelling - Book 1 of Witches of Galdorheim
Chapter 3 - Cry Wolf 


A klutzy witch, a shaman's curse, a quest to save her family. Can Kat find her magic in time?

Amazon $13.08 Free with Audible Membership
Audible $14.95 Free with Audible Membership
iTunes $14.95



Friday, December 18, 2015

More Audio Book Excerpts - Missing, Assumed Dead

MISSING, ASSUMED DEAD (retail excerpt)
Prejudice, murder, insanity, suicide: Every small town has its deadly secrets.

Amazon  ~  Audible  ~  iTunes

Kameron McBride just wants to collect some old family photos for her mom. She soon finds that her strange inheritance carries some deep secrets with it. Question is, will she get out alive?
Amazon Ebook and Print
All Ebook formats at Smashwords

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Chapter 1 - Scotch Broom (Bk 3 of the Witches of Galdorheim)

Scotch Broom - Chapter 1
A magical trip to Stonehenge lands a witch in the Otherworld where an ancient goddess is up to no good. 

Amazon $17.46 Free with Audible Membership
Audible $19.95 Free with Audible Membership
iTunes $17.95


Monday, December 14, 2015

Chapter 1 - Midnight Oil (Bk 2 of the Witches of Galdorheim)

Midnight Oil - Chapter 1
Shipwrecked on a legendary island, how can a witch rescue her boyfriend if she can't even phone home?

Amazon $17.46 Free with Audible Membership
Audible $19.95 Free with Audible Membership
iTunes $17.95






Saturday, December 12, 2015

Chapter 1 - Bad Spelling (Bk 1 of the Witches of Galdorheim

Bad Spelling - Book 1 of Witches of Galdorheim
A klutzy witch, a shaman's curse, a quest to save her family. Can Kat find her magic in time?

Amazon $13.08 Free with Audible Membership
Audible $14.95 Free with Audible Membership
iTunes $14.95


Wednesday, December 09, 2015

Audio Excerpt - Tales of a Texas Boy

Tales of a Texas Boy Audio Excerpt

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in Large Print paperback for $8.00 on Amazon. It's also in ebook format on Amazon ($2.99) or $0.99 if you buy the paperback. And if your family or friend has vision issues beyond the help of large print (as my father did), the audio book is available at audible.com  or Amazon. com for only $6.95

Monday, December 07, 2015

Tales of a Texas Boy - Excerpt 5

Excerpt from Tales of a Texas Boy

Cage McNatt’s Prize Sow

Pa let me camp with Dad Boles for a day or two as it was fifteen miles from our farm to Hereford and I liked to go to the fair on more than one day. Dad Boles didn’t seem to mind my company. He told me a few stories about his trapping business and about his time in France with Pa during the World War.

Each evening, when the fair was over, Dad would untie Sophie from her post and let her sit closer to the fire. One night, after things calmed down, Dad Boles and I were sittin’ by the fire with Sophie right next to us. Dad Boles was in the middle of a story about trappin’ when we heard something crashin’ around inside the fairgrounds. Dad decided to go check what was goin’ on, and I followed along since he didn’t say to stay put. We went into the fairgrounds to see what was up. The moon was full so we could see well enough. 

A man was goin’ toward the fairgrounds’ front gate and it looked like he was pullin’ a big dog along behind him. When I heard the squeal, though, I realized it wasn’t a dog, but a pig. I could also see the pig was white, so I knew right off it was the Luck’s sow. The trouble was that the man was Cage McNatt and not one of the Luck brothers.

Well, you might already have guessed what was goin’ on. Cage McNatt was stealin’ Whitey, or at least he was tryin’ to. The problem was Whitey was bigger than Mr. McNatt and she wasn’t of a mind to go along quiet. She was doin’ her best to pull away from the rope. She was shakin’ her head back and forth and kept up squealin’ the whole time. That was about the unhappiest pig I ever saw.

Then, she spotted the open gate. She quit squealin’, snorted a couple of times, and all of a sudden she was doin’ the pullin’ and Cage McNatt was runnin’ behind her tryin’ to keep up. She was makin’ a beeline for the gate where we just happened to be standin’. I figured we’d better just step out of the way. Bein’ run down by three hundred fifty pounds of hog flesh was not an idea I cottoned to.

What I didn’t realize, and Whitey didn’t either, was Sophie followed us through the gate. She, meanin’ Whitey, got about twenty feet from us when she looked up and saw a bear standin’ in the way of her freedom. She stopped short and Cage McNatt ran right by her as he had such a head of steam goin’. When he reached the end of the rope, it came right out of his hand. I could see her sittin’ down on her haunches and starin’ at Sophie like she was wonderin’ exactly what it was she was seein’. All she knew is it was a big, hairy critter and probably smelled pretty bad, too.


Read the rest of the story and more in Tales of a Texas Boy.

**** EBOOK IS FREE AT SMASHWORDS. Just set your price to FREE at checkout. 
You can also pay up to $2.99 if you want.****

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in Large Print paperback for $8.00 on Amazon. It's also in ebook format on Amazon ($2.99) or $0.99 if you buy the paperback. And if your family or friend has vision issues beyond the help of large print (as my father did), the audio book is available at audible.com for only $6.95

Saturday, December 05, 2015

Tales of a Texas Boy - Excerpt 4

Excerpt from Tales of a Texas Boy

The Cattle Drive

I seen the dust cloud down the road, so naturally I jumped up to the top rail of the fence to get a better look. It took about ten minutes before I could make out a couple of drovers was pushin’ a small herd up the road. By then, Pa come over to find out why I wasn’t doin’ my chores. The two of us were standin’ on the fence rail, peerin’ down the road. Ma came out of the house, but she stayed up on the porch with her hand shadin’ her eyes.

When we saw it was a herd, Pa shook his head and grinned.

“I ain’t seen that for some years,” he said.

Well, what could we do but wait for the drovers to come on up to the gate? After all, we was the only place close by and knew these fellas would need some water, at the least, and maybe a meal to go with it.

Ma went back in the house and when I saw the little puff of smoke from the chimney, I knew she was already firin’ up the stove. The angle of the sun over the barn told me it was ‘bout four. It was close enough to suppertime I hoped the herd would have to stop for the night.

With us bein’ fifteen miles from town and six miles by road to the nearest neighbor, I’d be pretty excited we were gettin’ any kind of visitors, but a cattle herd, that was almost too much to ask for.
I jumped off the fence like a lightnin’ bolt and headed for the corral. Old Sam was closest so I grabbed a rope and threw it round his neck for reins. Sam’s really easy, so I didn’t bother with a bridle and ridin’ bareback is second nature to me. It took a little shufflin’ to convince Sam to sidle over by the fence so I could get on. After all, he’s near sixteen hands and I’m not very tall. Pa saw what I was doin’ and nodded to me. I was gonna ask before I lit out, but he beat me to it.

Sam and me trotted down the road. I was bouncin’ and grinnin’ so hard my teeth kept clackin’ together. We met the front of the herd a quarter mile later and my jaw just near dropped off my face. I couldn’t believe what I was seein’ so I shut my mouth again and looked really hard.

Yep, I’m here to tell ya and ya know I don’t lie. Every last animal in the herd was a bull. This puzzled me no end, as much as it puzzles you to hear it. Course, the herd was no more ‘n twenty Hereford bulls, but . . .well, I can’t think of what that would be. Mostly herds are made up of steers and cows. Bulls ain’t usually included as they cause troubles wantin’ at the cows and all.

Read the rest of the story and more in Tales of a Texas Boy.

**** EBOOK IS FREE AT SMASHWORDS. Just set your price to FREE at checkout. You can also pay up to $2.99 if you want.****

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in Large Print paperback for $8.00 on Amazon. It's also in ebook format on Amazon ($2.99) or $0.99 if you buy the paperback. And if your family or friend has vision issues beyond the help of large print (as my father did), the audio book is available at audible.com for only $6.95

Thursday, December 03, 2015

Tales of a Texas Boy - Excerpt 3

Excerpt from Tales of a Texas Boy

The Bone Hunters


Moving along at an easy lope, we soon caught up with Mr. Whiteman and just rode alongside the car as it bounced over the sage-scattered flat lands. It wasn’t too long before we came up to the edge of a deep draw and Mr. Whiteman pulled right up to the rim where he stopped and let the Model T die again.

We got down off the horses, and dropped the reins to ground tie them. The horses knew what was expected and immediately started nosing around for any grass to graze on. They wouldn’t go far with the reins on the ground.

“Come along down here,” Mr. Whiteman started down a goat trail leading down the rocky side of the draw. As we scooted and slipped down the trail, I could see the walls were layered rock. This was pretty normal for a draw. As the water washed down them, the walls were dug away and you could see where layers of dirt formed up and turned to rock over the years—thousands of years. I did recall a lesson at school on the geology of Texas and learned about some of this.

Soon, we reached the bottom and Mr. Whiteman led us a few dozen feet along the wall. Some of the rock wall was chipped away and pieces were laying on the floor of the draw.
“Here,” Mr. Whiteman pointed and I was amazed to see the shape of a leg bone, but it was bigger’n any bone I’d ever seen. I figured he wasn’t puttin’ me on since a real mammoth bone was right in front of my own two eyes. I looked at Sister, but she was busy picking wildflowers again and didn’t pay any mind.

The man pulled a small hammer from his belt and started tapping around the mammoth bone. 
“Look, here,” he pointed and, sure enough, I could make out an arrow head. Little chips were knocked off along the edge to make it sharp.

“That’s called fluting,” he explained when he saw me runnin’ my finger along the chipped edge of the arrowhead.

“This is really sumthin’,” I said quietly. I hardly knew what to say, I was so flabbergasted I actually got to touch real mammoth bones.

* Note: Ridge Whiteman did discover the existence of Clovis Man, at that time, the oldest evidence of human inhabitants in North America.

Read the rest of the story and more in Tales of a Texas Boy.

**** EBOOK IS FREE AT SMASHWORDS. Just set your price to FREE at checkout. You can also pay up to $2.99 if you want.****

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in Large Print paperback for $8.00 on Amazon. It's also in ebook format on Amazon ($2.99) or $0.99 if you buy the paperback. And if your family or friend has vision issues beyond the help of large print (as my father did), the audio book is available at audible.com for only $6.95

Tuesday, December 01, 2015

Tales of a Texas Boy - Excerpt 2

Excerpt from Tales of a Texas Boy

Ma Yote and Her Cubs


Bein’s it was a fine day, I took a walk to the sandstone canyon that runs near our farm. In the summer, it gave up a good stock of lizards and horny toads. I always hoped to find a horny toad, but there be plenty of other interestin’ lizards, too. The schoolhouse has a big book of critters by some scientist. I’ll admit that the man knew his stuff, even if he lived back east. I’d look up what I found in his book so I’d know next time if I spotted the same kind again.

Anyways, the canyon starts out on one end real shallow and gets deeper as it runs west. It ends up runnin’ into a bluff that turns it into a box canyon. Through spring, it had water in the deep end, but by high summer it was all dried out. I’d walk down it from the shallow end, keepin’ my eyes peeled on the walls where the critters lived. This particular day was frustratin’ ‘cause I didn’t see a single thing until I got near the end. 

I stopped dead in my tracks. Three of the cutest little coyote cubs you’d hope to meet were rompin’ around near the end of the canyon. I looked every which way for their mama, but didn’t see her. I suspected she might be out lookin’ for dinner.

The cubs looked my way, but didn’t spook. They just looked interested for a bit, then they went back to bitin’ each other’s tails. I had to grin at the squeaky lil’ growls they let out as they played at huntin’.

I sat down partly hid by a big boulder no more’n twenty feet from ‘em just to watch. I commenced to thinkin’ that I might catch one of the cubs and raise him up like a dog. Coyotes looked like dogs, but I’d never heard of anyone who brought one home. I decided I’d try to tame one of the cubs, but I’d wait until their ma weaned them. They’d still be small enough for me to wrangle, but not so big as to be dangerous.

Somethin’ moved atop the canyon wall and caught my eye. Mama Coyote hung her head over the edge and bared her teeth. Even from twenty feet up I could hear the growling. I stood up slow and commenced to backin’ away. She jumped down and I nearly fell on my backside. I don’t know to this day how she done it, but that coyote found footholds to scramble down that rock wall what looked like a lizard might not get a grip.

She hit the bottom lickety-split, so I backed up a mite faster. Not too fast, or I knew she’d come after me. Lucky for me, she weren’t inclined to do that, so I turned around and took off. I kept alookin’ over my shoulder, but she stayed with her cubs, sniffin’ them to make sure they were alright. In that way, she reminded me of my own ma. She can sound mean enough to shake you right outta yer boots, but I know it’s generally for my own good.

Read the rest of the story and more in Tales of a Texas Boy.

**** EBOOK IS FREE AT SMASHWORDS. Just set your price to FREE at checkout. You can also pay up to $2.99 if you want.****

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in Large Print paperback for $8.00 on Amazon. It's also in ebook format on Amazon ($2.99) or $0.99 if you buy the paperback. And if your family or friend has vision issues beyond the help of large print (as my father did), the audio book is available at audible.com for only $6.95.


Sunday, November 29, 2015

Tales of a Texas Boy - Excerpt 1

Excerpt from Tales of a Texas Boy

Dad Boles and Sophie

It was summer again and the carnival would be here in a week. That’s about the most exciting event of the year, except maybe the roundup and branding. I surely was looking forward to the cotton candy and riding the Ferris wheel. Beins I’m a kid, a carnival was pretty interesting, but I looked forward to it most ‘cause that’s when Dad Boles came to town.

My Pa met up with Dad Boles during the war where they’d been in France with the cavalry. My Pa was the horse doctor and Dad Boles was the horseshoer, though he’d been a lot of different things in his life. They’d hit it off and Dad Boles took to coming to Hereford to spend time with Pa and to bring his bear to the carnival.

I didn’t mention he owned a bear? Oh, he surely did! He’d raised Sophie from a cub. Truth be known I think he’d killed her ma, so he wasn’t exactly being overly nice by taking in a little bear cub. He also kept a pet bobcat named Bob.

When they all drove up to the farm in his big Studebaker, they surely were a sight. Sophie sat up in the back seat just like she was a person. Bob rode in a cage as he wasn’t as easy-goin’ as Sophie.

Read the rest of the story and more in Tales of a Texas Boy.

**** EBOOK IS FREE AT SMASHWORDS. Just set your price to FREE at checkout. You can also pay up to $2.99 if you want.****

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in Large Print paperback for $8.00 on Amazon. It's also in ebook format on Amazon ($2.99) or $0.99 if you buy the paperback. And if your family or friend has vision issues beyond the help of large print (as my father did), the audio book is available at audible.com for only $6.95

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Happy Thanksgiving 2015

Have a great Thanksgiving or a decent Thursday the 26th if you're not in the US.

Also, Happy Birthday to my mom on her 92nd birthday on Friday, November 27th. 



Saturday, November 21, 2015

Cool Characters You'll Never Meet

It's all about the blood.

I was going to write a fourth book in the Witches of Galdorheim series. It was supposed to be Rune's book. You probably don't know who Rune is either, so I'll first introduce him a bit, then talk about the characters you'll not have the opportunity to meet in the Galdorheim series.

Rune: Half vampire and half warlock, Rune has adventured with his sister, Katrina in the first three books  of the Galdorheim series. With his double-dip of magic from both his mother and father, Rune is bound to be the most powerful warlock to come out of Galdorheim. First, though, he has to learn how to control his vampiric urges. This is an on-going battle for him throughout the series. In the third book of the series, he is forced to use his vampire's bite to save himself and his sister from the evil winter goddess, Cailleach. After that battle, he returns home distraught and suffering from PTSD.

Drakos: Rune's father. Drakos was a human warlock when turned into a vampire. Because he has strong magical skills, he is able to moderate his vampiristic tendencies. He does like to play the part, however. Living in a chalet in the High Tatras Mountains of Slovakia (not every vampire lives in Transylvania in a dank castle) with a few other vampires, he ensures the surrounding villages are safe from his companions.

When first turned, however, he didn't have proper control yet. He attacked Rune's mother intent on taking her blood while they engaged in a bit of hanky-panky. Ardyth, a powerful witch, nipped that in the bud (so to speak) and returned home carrying Drakos' child, Rune.

Helsing and Liebchen: Helsing is a distant relative of the famous Van Helsing who took on Dracula in Bram Stoker's seminal work. He isn't the brightest bulb on the tree, but desperately wants to make a name for himself as a vampire hunter to follow in his ancestor's footsteps.

He does have a secret weapon at his disposal: Liebchen the Lundehund. The Norwegian Lundehunds have six toes on each foot that allow them to climb on vertical cliffs and their neck joints enable them to bend their head backward over their shoulders so that their forehead touches its back.

The hound can also close their ear canals at will (to protect them against dirt and moisture) and are able to bend their head 180 degrees backwards over their shoulders. Their fore-shoulder joints are extremely flexible and empower both front legs to be stretched straight out to both sides, for greater ease in swimming and maneuvering in the narrow crevices in Norwegian seaside cliffs where their avian prey lives.

The dog, for all its traits and talents, has a flaw of its digestive tract which requires an almost 100% protein diet. Thus sensitized to detect protein sources, the Lundehund is ideal for seeking out creatures which also require high protein foods, such as vampires. Blood calories are almost all protein. It does contain a high salt and iron content, which might be detrimental to humans, but vampire and Lundehund physiology can counteract the potential poisons.

Biel the Mahr: The Mahr are a race of giant vampire moths that dwell in the Carpathian Mountains. When a person was bitten by one of the Mahr, the creature would host the body of that person. A Mahr can be killed, and thus returning the soul to the original owner, by driving a wooden stake through its heart, or by finding its lair and exposing it to daylight. In Poland, they are called Mora and in Bulgaria Morava. The Mahr needs substantial quantities of blood to survive cocooning for several years.

Early on in the book-which-will-not-be, Rune and Drakos must fight off a Mahr named Biel. Not usually enemies, Biel is upset because Drakos has banned blood-taking in the area enforcing the rules via his control of a variety of folkloric creatures which were to be determined if the book had been written.

The Witches of Galdorheim series is available in ebook, print, and audio formats. I have given out the links a thousand times, so no reason to bother repeating myself.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Books You Won't See in an Amazon Ad

Click the title for links


FANTASY FOR KIDS

Witches of Galdorheim Series (3-Volume Book) $4.99

   Bad Spelling $2.99
   Midnight Oil $2.99
   Scotch Broom $2.99
   Spellslinger $0.99

Faizah's Destiny $2.99

Setara's Genie $2.99

SCIENCE FICTION

Ultimate Duty $2.99
First Duty $1.99

MYSTERY AND ADVENTURE

Missing, Assumed Dead $1.99
Eagle Quest $1.99

SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

Tales of a Texas Boy $2.99
Mixed Bag Short Story Collection $0.99
Fish Story: A Three Story Sampler $0.99

P.S. Most also have a print option. Six have audio options.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Ebook Prices at Smashwords

Smashwords ebooks from #free to $2.99 (most are .99 and $1.99). Many are name your own price. Buy the book, then enter the price you want to pay at checkout. That can include $0.00 if you want.

Witches of Galdorheim Boxed Set $3.99

   Bad Spelling $2.99 - Name Your Own Price
   Midnight Oil $2.99 - Name Your Own Price
   Scotch Broom $2.99 - Name Your Own Price
   Spellslinger $0.99

The Tales of Abu Nuwas Series 
  Faizah's Destiny $2.99 - Name Your Own Price
  Setara's Genie $2.99 - Name Your Own Price

Mystery/Adventure $0.99 each
  Missing, Assumed Dead $1.99
  Eagle Quest $1.99

Science Fiction
  First Duty $1.99
  Ultimate Duty $2.99 - Name Your Own Price

Miscellaneous
  Tales of a Texas Boy $2.99 - Name Your Own Price
  Mixed Bag Short Story Collection $0.99
  Mixed Bag II: Supersized $1.99
  Lemons and Other Kid Tales $0.99







Thursday, November 12, 2015

Delivery Time

If you plan on giving books for the Holidays of the paper variety, you might start thinking about it soon if you'll be ordering on-line. Of course, Amazon zaps them to you in a couple of days. But if you're thinking of buying from the authors to get autographed copies, that takes a bit longer. For example, I sell all of my books as an Amazon Merchant. I ship via Media Mail. That takes 7-10 days for delivery. Just sayin'. I also have a limited number on hand. When they're gone, they're gone, at least for this year.

Monday, November 09, 2015

A Salute to Veterans

Tales of a Texas Boy are stories my father told me about his life in West Texas as a child. When WWII started, my father signed up, of course. His father (my grandpa) served in the military as a veternarian. This is his story.

Excerpt - Pa's Story

World War I took many young men away from their homes and sent them off to foreign shores. Eddie's Pa was one of those young men. He has his own tale to tell.

In 1916, I was still a young buck and not yet married, so I signed up with Black Jack Pershing to go after Pancho Villa. Ol' Pancho and his banditos came into US territory and killed a bunch of folks in Columbus, New Mexico.

I was real good with horses, so soon I was the veterinarian. This was just as well, as I didn't take well to using a gun. I'd never studied vetting in school, but I'd grown up on a farm in Nebraska and knew just about all there was to know about horses and mules. We chased Pancho and his gang just about all over Mexico, but never did catch up with him. A couple years later, I was still in the service, so I ended up goin' to France with Black Jack when he got to be a General. I could have decided not to go as I'd done my time, but I knew Black Jack could put me to good use.

We were on the troop ship for weeks. Everybody was seasick for the first few days. The horses seemed to fare fine in that regard, but I was worried we couldn't exercise them enough. We brought them up from the hold, a few at a time, and let them stretch their legs. We'd lead them in a quick walk around the deck. With the metal decks, we didn't want them to move very fast for fear they'd slip and fall.

I'd hate to have to put down a horse with a broken leg, so we took it real easy. As a result, the horses were not in good fightin' shape by the time we landed in France.

It took some time, but me and Joe, who got assigned to be my assistant, got them in shape again. Mostly the horses were used to pack gear, but a few officers still rode them. Black Jack Pershing liked to ride on occasion, as did Captain Patton. I thought we should only have mules, since they make better pack animals than horses, but there were never enough mules to go around.

We weren't in too many battles directly as we were the supply line for the army, but in 1918 it turned pretty bad when we went into the Argonne Forest. They called this an 'offensive.' I can see why as it offended me a lot. The fighting went on for nearly two months and only ended in November when the big guys signed the Treaty at Versailles.

In that short two months, it was hell on earth. Thousands of men died. One whole division, the 77th, was cut off for near a week and held out surrounded by the German forces. It was some battle, I can tell you. Almost all day long, I could hear the shells bursting and the sharp reports of rifle fire. And I heard the screams of dying men and horses.

The worst part for me was the horses being swept up in the middle of the battle. It broke my heart to go out on the fields after the fighting passed by and after the dead and wounded men were collected. Sometimes the ground was so soaked with blood that my boots were covered before I got back. A horse with an artery torn open bleeds gallons of blood; men only a few pints. It angered me when I thought how much the horses gave. They didn't even have a say in goin' to war. Men, at least, had a choice.

I carried a sidearm and had to shoot more horses than I can count. Those we could save, we'd bring back to the line and see if we could treat their wounds. It was a second heartbreak when they wouldn't heal proper and we'd take them out behind the tents to put them down. We dug a deep trench to bury them for health reasons and we kept digging every day to hold them all.

While we treated the horses, close by we could see the wounded men being brought back from the battlefield. Legs and arms were already gone or had to be cut off by the doctors right there in the field. From the history I'd read about the Civil War, this was just about as bad. If the choice was amputate or die, then they had to do what was necessary. We dug another trench to hold the arms and legs the doctors cut off; the dead soldiers we wrapped in oilcloth to be sent back behind the lines, where we hoped to send their bodies back home to their families.

All told I spent twenty months in France. It was the worst part of my life and I hoped and prayed we'd never see another war like this again.

* * *

Pa's story made me sad in a way, though I was proud of him for what he did in the war. It seemed to me people should learn to get along. I never was sure why Pa had to go to France. Later in my own life, I'd learn what it was to go to war. I was lucky to not go overseas, but somethin' in me wished I had.
* * *

Amazon Kindle Ebook - $0.99
Smashwords - FREE
Large Print Paperback $8.00 at Amazon
Audio Book only $6.95

Little Eddie tells some almost true Tall Tales set in West Texas of the 1930s. Guess what's true and what Eddie fudged on. Was it about the bear? Cage McNatt's prize sow? The skunk in the cornpatch? Guaranteed for a chuckle and maybe a tear here and there.



Friday, November 06, 2015

Happy Trails Trailer

Great Book for Dad or Grandpa - Surprise them with a Veterans' Day Gift of Old-Time Humor

Amazon Kindle Ebook - $0.99
Smashwords - FREE
Large Print Paperback $8.00 at Amazon
Audio Book only $6.95

Little Eddie tells some almost true Tall Tales set in West Texas of the 1930s. Guess what's true and what Eddie fudged on. Was it about the bear? Cage McNatt's prize sow? The skunk in the cornpatch? Guaranteed for a chuckle and maybe a tear here and there.


Book Trailer #1 = Tales of a Texas Boy




Tuesday, November 03, 2015

Great Gift for Vets: Tales of a Texas Boy

I've discounted Tales of a Texas Boy to all time low prices. Buy a print book and get the ebook for 99 cents on Amazon (but you can get a free ebook at Smashwords throughout November). Or leave a comment to win a paperback to gift to your favorite vet.

It's available in Large Print on Amazon for $8.00. The ebooks don't have the old-time photos illustrating each story. I got a few of them from the family albums, but I selected others from the archives of Texas University to illustrate the story themes. See below for a few of the photos.

Tales of a Texas Boy is a series of related short stories loosely based on my father's stories about his boyhood in West Texas during the Depression.

It all started with a cattle drive. Yeah, right, pop. Nobody had cattle drives in the 1930's. Well, yeah, they did. My father, Eddie in the stories, got to ride herd when he was only eleven years old. That was sure the highlight of that year.

His father, Louis (my grandfather), had been a veterinarian with Blackjack Pershing's American Expeditionary Forces. That's what they called the army during WWI. In the service, he became friends with an interesting old guy who happened to have a bear. When Dad Boles brought Sophie to the annual fair, Eddie loved to sit by the campfire listening to some dandy whoppers.

Eddie had a pretty busy life for a boy who lived miles away from the nearest neighbors. He managed to find plenty of trouble to get into, but had a big heart to soften his bad boy image. No matter that he loved to aggravate his sister, he took care of her when she and her pony were almost swept away by a flood.

The boy cared about the rattlesnakes, the jackrabbits, the jack asses, even old Cage McNatt's prize sow. He went fishing with a special borrowed float, then proceeded to lose it, find it, then give it away.

These are simple tales without any big events, unless you consider the despair of the Great Depression hanging over everybody's lives.

This is really my Dad.
Yes, I made up some aspects of the stories, and I even made up a few completely, but most of the book is as true as a Texas Tall Tale can be.

If these kind of stories appeal to your father, your mother, uncle, aunt, or even yourself, I think you'll be glad to read my father's stories. Since he died last August, I'm proud and relieved to have gotten around to writing the stories, having several published separately, then putting all of them together in one book. I decided to feature Large Print since my father's eyesight was failing.

Excerpt - Pa's Story

World War I took many young men away from their homes and sent them off to foreign shores. Eddie's Pa was one of those young men. He has his own tale to tell.

In 1916, I was still a young buck and not yet married, so I signed up with Black Jack Pershing to go after Pancho Villa. Ol' Pancho and his banditos came into US territory and killed a bunch of folks in Columbus, New Mexico.

I was real good with horses, so soon I was the veterinarian. This was just as well, as I didn't take well to using a gun. I'd never studied vetting in school, but I'd grown up on a farm in Nebraska and knew just about all there was to know about horses and mules. We chased Pancho and his gang just about all over Mexico, but never did catch up with him. A couple years later, I was still in the service, so I ended up goin' to France with Black Jack when he got to be a General. I could have decided not to go as I'd done my time, but I knew Black Jack could put me to good use.

We were on the troop ship for weeks. Everybody was seasick for the first few days. The horses seemed to fare fine in that regard, but I was worried we couldn't exercise them enough. We brought them up from the hold, a few at a time, and let them stretch their legs. We'd lead them in a quick walk around the deck. With the metal decks, we didn't want them to move very fast for fear they'd slip and fall.

I'd hate to have to put down a horse with a broken leg, so we took it real easy. As a result, the horses were not in good fightin' shape by the time we landed in France.

It took some time, but me and Joe, who got assigned to be my assistant, got them in shape again. Mostly the horses were used to pack gear, but a few officers still rode them. Black Jack Pershing liked to ride on occasion, as did Captain Patton. I thought we should only have mules, since they make better pack animals than horses, but there were never enough mules to go around.

We weren't in too many battles directly as we were the supply line for the army, but in 1918 it turned pretty bad when we went into the Argonne Forest. They called this an 'offensive.' I can see why as it offended me a lot. The fighting went on for nearly two months and only ended in November when the big guys signed the Treaty at Versailles.

In that short two months, it was hell on earth. Thousands of men died. One whole division, the 77th, was cut off for near a week and held out surrounded by the German forces. It was some battle, I can tell you. Almost all day long, I could hear the shells bursting and the sharp reports of rifle fire. And I heard the screams of dying men and horses.

The worst part for me was the horses being swept up in the middle of the battle. It broke my heart to go out on the fields after the fighting passed by and after the dead and wounded men were collected. Sometimes the ground was so soaked with blood that my boots were covered before I got back. A horse with an artery torn open bleeds gallons of blood; men only a few pints. It angered me when I thought how much the horses gave. They didn't even have a say in goin' to war. Men, at least, had a choice.

I carried a sidearm and had to shoot more horses than I can count. Those we could save, we'd bring back to the line and see if we could treat their wounds. It was a second heartbreak when they wouldn't heal proper and we'd take them out behind the tents to put them down. We dug a deep trench to bury them for health reasons and we kept digging every day to hold them all.

While we treated the horses, close by we could see the wounded men being brought back from the battlefield. Legs and arms were already gone or had to be cut off by the doctors right there in the field. From the history I'd read about the Civil War, this was just about as bad. If the choice was amputate or die, then they had to do what was necessary. We dug another trench to hold the arms and legs the doctors cut off; the dead soldiers we wrapped in oilcloth to be sent back behind the lines, where we hoped to send their bodies back home to their families.

All told I spent twenty months in France. It was the worst part of my life and I hoped and prayed we'd never see another war like this again.

* * *

Pa's story made me sad in a way, though I was proud of him for what he did in the war. It seemed to me people should learn to get along. I never was sure why Pa had to go to France. Later in my own life, I'd learn what it was to go to war. I was lucky to not go overseas, but somethin' in me wished I had.



Sunday, November 01, 2015

November is for Veterans

Vets' Day Special (all of November)
Leave a comment on this blog about your special Vet
and win both the ebook and audiobook!
OR
*Purchase the ebook from Amazon, send proof of purchase to mgdasef@gmail.com, Or, you can PM at Facebook or G+. I will send a gift of the book through audible.com.


TALES OF A TEXAS BOY
How do you handle a crazy jackass? Eddie knows. If you ask Eddie, he'll tell you pigs can fly and show you where to find real mammoth bones. Take his word for it when he tells you always to bet on the bear. Twenty-one nostalgic stories based on the real life Eddie's adventures growing up in West Texas during the Great Depression. But the stories are not depressing at all! If you like animals and stories of farm and ranch life, this is a perfect book for you.

Watch the Book Trailer on YouTube.

Listen to the excerpt at SoundCloud.

Saturday, October 31, 2015

Free Ebooks - Happy Halloween!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
The little 3-story sampler, "Fish Stories and Other Tales," is free every Saturday this month. Since I'm posting all my shorts to Wattpad, there's no sense in keeping this little book around. However, Kindle Select still has a hold on it, so I thought to get the five free days out of the way this month. Halloween is for witches, so expect to see some of the Witches of Galdorheim up for grabs as well. For example, today get "Midnight Oil" free. Scroll down for the link at Smashwords.

Here's where you'll find the free ebook on Kindle today. http://www.amazon.com/Fish-Story-Three-Sampler-ebook/dp/B00II8HL26/ 
For you lovely scrollers: A free bonus book on Smashwords today only. All formats available.


Also Perma-free on Smashwords (Choose Your Own Price):
Bad Spelling (Book 1 of the Witches of Galdorheim)

Friday, October 30, 2015

Kay LaLone's Spooky New Book

Family Secret
by Kay LaLone
Sixteen-year-old Thomas Patrick Henry is thrown into a web of secrets and demons after his mother’s murder.

Buy Family Secret at:
MuseItUp
https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/young-adult/family-secret-detail 
Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B014X7C59O 

Blurb:
On the road to solving his mother’s murder, sixteen-year-old Thomas Patrick Henry discovers a secret his father has kept from him for years. Tom thought Dad’s secret put him in danger, Mom’s secret is far worse. Magic. Witches. Ancient Book of Spells. Magical Amulet. Ghosts. Demons. Tom never thought these things existed until he is face to face with them. There is nothing else to do but destroy the demons before someone else Tom love dies. He already lost his mom and a close friend because this secret was kept from him. No one else will die. No one else will be possessed. Tom faces his demons. A mother’s love gives Tom the strength to slay his demons.

Where did the idea for Family Secret come from? 

Ideas for stories can come from many places. I’ve had ideas come from dreams, daydreaming, and things my family might do.

Family Secret is not based on a secret from my past or from my family. The idea for Family Secret came from a picture I saw for a writing class. The writing assignment was to look at a picture and develop a story from it. In the picture were a train and a boy and girl.

 I asked the question, What if? What if this boy was running away from something? What if he felt like he wasn’t wanted? What if a secret was being kept from him? Asking what if gets the imagination flowing. Over the years (it took fifteen years before Family Secret became published) I just let my imagination run wild and soon it developed into the book it is today.

Excerpt

“Ow.” Tom yanked the chain and dragged the burning amulet from under his shirt. Even the chain was warm, but there was no way he was going to take the stupid thing off. He let it drop to his chest and rest warmly on the top of his shirt as he stared at the demon.

“It’s not your grandfather,” Tom whispered. Anger rolled around inside him because of what this thing did to Sarah.

The dark figure stepped out of the shadows causing the boys to take two steps back. The demon looked like a man dressed in thunderous storm-like clouds from head to toe. Even his face was black and the eyes a dimly puke-yellow that churned Tom’s stomach. He felt Rob’s heavy breathing just inches behind him, but it didn’t stop a chill from shimmering up his spine like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“I know who you are.” Tom tried to sound confident even though his voice shook with fear. He swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

The demon raised a shadowy arm and then his stormy cloud-like body started to swirl like a mini tornado. In a gust of black smoke, the demon shot up into the air and zipped right over Tom and Rob’s heads. The boys ducked and laid flat on the wet grass, afraid the demon would consume them.

Tom turned his head to see the black smoke head toward Mr. Watson’s house. Tom got to his feet while Rob remained on the ground. The black smoke swarmed over the house and then drifted back down. It slithered around the house like a snake looking for a place to sneak in, circling several times before seeping through the crack in the window and disappearing inside.

Rob scrambled to his feet. “That thing is inside my grandfather’s house.” His voice was high-pitched in fear. “My…” He glanced toward the empty driveway. Then he sighed. “Mom must still be at the hospital.”

Tom touched Rob’s arm to prevent him from doing something crazy. He didn’t want another one of his friends to get hurt by this thing.

“We need to do something, but I don’t know what.” Tom glanced over to the tents in Granddad’s backyard, hoping Matt or Granddad would come running to save the day. But there was no movement over there.

Inside the house, Jake growled and then started to bark wildly. Before Tom could stop him, Rob dashed upon the back porch and flung the backdoor open. Jake continued his wild barking as if protecting Rob and the house. If only the dog could save the day, but Tom feared nothing would save them.

A cracking noise caught Tom’s attention, and he turned his head toward what he assumed was Mr. Watson’s bedroom window. The glass appeared pitch black at first, and then a face appeared. The same puke-yellow eyes stared at Tom and gave him an evil grin.

About Kay

Kay's Family at Christmas
I’m Kay LaLone author of Ghostly Clues, my first MG novel. Family Secret is my first YA novel. Both published by MuseItUp. I live in Michigan with my husband and teenage son (two older sons and a daughter-in-law and my first grandbaby live nearby) and two dogs. I love to get up every morning and write about ghosts, the paranormal, and things that go bump in the night. I write PB, MG and YA novels. No matter the books I write, I want my readers to feel like they have met a new friend. I’m an avid reader of just about any type of book (mystery, paranormal, and ghost stories are my favorites). I do reviews and post them on my website and blog. I love to collect old books, antiques, and collectibles. You can find many of my antiques and collectibles selling on ebay and at fleamarkets.


Find Kay at:
Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/ghostlyclues
Blog 
http://www.kaylalone.blogspot.com
Twitter
http://www.twitter.com/kaylalone

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Halloween is for Werewolves

HALLOWEEN IS FOR WEREWOLVES

Werewolves: An Alternative Transportation

Werewolf from New Moon
The most well-known werecritter is the werewolf. At this time in the cycle of what’s hot, what’s not, werewolves are getting great press via the Twilight books and movies by Stephanie Meyer.

I have to admit it. Werewolves can be totally sexy guys (gals) in human form. Meyer finally got one legendary being right. Well, she agrees with my concept, which I used before I read any of the Meyer saga. To tell the truth, I still haven’t read any of the books, because the first movie put such a bad taste in my mouth. OMG, Edward loves Bella because she SMELLS good?!?!? Gimme a break.

As we all know, werewolves are shape-shifters. When the full moon rises, your normal guy (or gal) changes into a werewolf. Sometimes, they are portrayed as mindless beasts who’ll rip the throat out of anybody they come upon. Other portrayals show that the maintain their human intelligence when shifted. Since the legends vary so wildly, I decided to not only have my werewolves remain intelligent, but also able to shift from human to wolf form at will.

How do I justify this turning away from the legend? I don’t need to. Some folks will howl in disgust with my tampering with the myths. Let ‛em whine or even bark. I’ve seen authors do just about everything with the tropes: weres, vampires, demons, fairies, angels, ancient gods. That, I believe, is perfectly okay. You want a half-vampire, half-demon? I’ve seen that in paranormal more than once. Gods less than god-like? Yup, been done.

Anyway, I have a six-pack of werewolves in “Bad Spelling.” Here’s a taste (ha ha, get it?) of my werewolf mashup.

Excerpt

Rune joined them. “Are we going to stand around here all day? Where’s the alternative transportation you told us about?”

Andy tore his gaze from Kat and scanned the slope. “There it is.”

Kat looked where Andy pointed and gasped. “What—?”

“Don’t worry. They won’t hurt us,” Andy said with a confidence Kat didn’t quite trust.

“But werewolves?” There was no mistaking them for regular wolves. Besides being twice the size of the largest of the wolves, the eyes gave them away. Even from a distance, Kat could see them gleaming with intelligence.

“Look behind them,” Andy said.

The big wolves loped along easily; they were harnessed to a sled, bouncing along behind them. The speed with which they approached told her they would have no problem pulling a heavy load.
The wolves came up the slope and stopped in front of them. The lead werewolf looked at each of them with some interest. Kat felt like an item on a menu, like when they faced the polar bear.

The lead wolf said, “Good morning. Hmm. Humans, not trolls. Interesting.” The wolf looked over his shoulder at the others. “Remember, King Olaf hired us to deliver these people to where they want to go. You are not to eat them.” The other wolves nodded, but their long tongues hanging over gleaming, razor-sharp teeth was not a reassuring sight; their mouths dripped saliva in a most disconcerting manner.

The lead werewolf turned his pale yellow eyes back to Andy. “So, where are we going?”

Andy briefly explained what they wanted. The werewolf nodded and said, “If I understand correctly, we are looking for the Sami tribe. Do you realize they’re nomadic?”

“Sort of. All I know for certain is they spend much of their time on the northern coast.” Andy glanced at Kat. “Anything else?” She shook her head.

The wolf stared at Andy for a moment and then said, “Well, come closer so I can smell you. The girl, too.”

Kat hung back. “Why do you want to—? Oh, I understand. You can find the Samis through our scent.”

“Very good, young lady,” the werewolf answered and sniffed at her outstretched hand. He licked it once. Kat jerked her hand back. “Taste helps, too,” the werewolf answered, with a hint of humor in his gruff voice.

“What’s your name?” Kat asked.

“I call myself Mazi in my wolf form. I try to keep my human life separate.” The werewolf raised his head and howled. The other wolves joined in the chorus. Goose pimples rose on Kat’s arms. Then, they all fell silent and pricked their ears, turning their heads this way and that. From off in the distance, Kat heard a faint answering howl.

Hop on the sled. It’s time to go,” Mazi said.


* * *


BAD SPELLING (Book 1 of the Witches of Galdorheim)
Perma-free at Smashwords
A klutzy witch, a shaman's curse, a quest to save her family. Can Kat find her magic in time?

If you’re a witch living on a remote arctic island, and the entire island runs on magic, lacking magical skills is not just an inconvenience, it can be a matter of life and death–or, at least, a darn good reason to run away from home.

Katrina’s spells don’t just fizzle; they backfire with spectacular results, oftentimes involving green goo. A failure as a witch, Kat decides to run away and find her dead father’s non-magical family. But before she can, she stumbles onto why her magic is out of whack: a curse from a Siberian shaman.

The young witch, accompanied by her half-vampire brother, must travel to the Hall of the Mountain King and the farthest reaches of Siberia to regain her magic, dodging attacks by the shaman along the way.