JULY SALE AT SMASHWORDS

 Now is your best chance to find my entire ebook collection for a promotional price at @Smashwords as part of their Annual Summer/Winter Sale! Find my books and many more at

https://www.smashwords.com/shelves/promos all month! 

#SWSale2024 #Smashwords

All Month July - Book sale!

 Books created at Smashwords have been migrated to the Draft2Digital platform which distributes to ebook sales sites.

To celebrate the migration, the books from Smashwords are going on sale, some as low as $0. Be sure to take advantage of the sale starting TOMORROW, July 1st.

https://www.smashwords.com/shelves/promos/ (link active July 1) all month! 

Midsummer (Solstice) and Happy Birthday, Janae!

Summer Solstice – More Than Just the First Day of Summer

It's Also My Beautiful Granddaughter's Birthday Tomorrow!
(June 20th 20:50 UTC, 1:50 PDT)

In historical terms, the Solstice is the exact point of time when the daylight outstrips the night in length. That’s hard to reckon, particularly since the exact point in time depends on where you live. Why should that be?

Take a look at model of the solar system, specifically look at earth. If it’s properly oriented, then it’s a bit tilted, not straight up and down as you might think. Stand back a bit further, and you can see the earth doesn’t travel in a circle around the sun, but in a big oval called an ellipsis.

Since the Solstice varies when it occurs (anywhere between June 20^th -23^rd), most people won’t know exactly when the earth moves from Spring to Summer. Instead, a variety of festivals from different countries and people celebrate Midsummer. Fortunately, astronomers are available to let us know exactly when the solstice occurs.

Many cultures celebrate the Summer Solstice. A few of these celebrations are: Adonia, St. John's Feast Day, Jani, Liða, Midsommar, Ivan Kupala Day, Juhannus, Mittumaari, Alban Hefin, Gwyl Ganol yr Haf, Sankthans, Jaanipäev, Keskikesä, and Rasos. Oh, my. That’s a lot of celebrating! Wherever you live, you can have a party.

Another group of professionals other than astronomers who can tell you when the solstice occurs are witches. No, not the evil witches with warts and ugly noses, but the Wiccans who inhabit my books and Galdorheim Island in the Barents Sea. This is a fictional place, but is quite close to some very real islands in the Arctic with very real people who live on them.

Midsummer for Wiccans is called Litha. Just like every people who had some means to really look at the movement of the stars and planets Well, the earth is moving, but from where we stand, it appears the stars are the ones in motion. They are, but I’d refer you to Doctor Neil DeGrasse Tyson, the narrator of the Cosmos series, for exactly what’s going on in the universe.

In the second book of my Witches of Galdorheim series, “Midnight Oil,” the exact time the Solstice occurs is crucial to the plot. The magical midnight oil is a curative required by a tribe of mutant Nenets tribespeople to heal the radiation poisoning which deformed them. It must be administered at the exact time the Solstice occurs. The year I selected had to have that event occur (somewhere in the world) at almost precisely midnight on June 20^{th (close to this year's 11:43pm Murmansk Oblast Time)}. Some confusion about the exact moment of the Solstice almost leads to the restorative oil to arrive late at its destination. After all, the Solstice usually occurs on the 21^st, but not this year.

A lot happens to thwart my heroes from delivering the oil on time and in good condition. An evil forest spirit happens to possess the oil. But this isn’t simply a “find the magical thing and deliver it” plot. There’s a lot going on in “Midnight Oil.” A kidnapped boyfriend, mutant tribesfolk, Ajatar the forest spirit, a man who was tragically disemvoweled (lost the ability to pronounce a, e, i, o, or u and sometimes y), a witch trapped on the lost island of Atlantis with the Loch Ness monster, and, um, there’s lots more to discover in the book.

So, back to Litha, the Wiccan midsummer celebration. One of the most famous places in the world to observe the Solstice is at Stonehenge in England, but only if the Solstice occurs during daylight hours (not this year). Nevertheless, the midsummer celebrations (June 25th) take place no matter what time the Solstice actually happens. Stonehenge would be a great place to party. 

Fun thing to do: Find out when the Solstice occurs where you live (compare your local time to Greenwich Meantime).

All the Galdorheim Series books are all on sale at Smashwords in July. Amazon prices vary with various marketing campaigns. Keep checking back. The Compleat and True History of the Witches of Galdorheim (all books and stories) is only $5.99.

BAD SPELLING
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.

MIDNIGHT OIL - This is the book depending on the exact time of the Summer Solstice.
Shipwrecked on a legendary island, how can a witch rescue her boyfriend if she can’t even phone home?

Kat is a nervous wreck waiting for her boyfriend's first visit to her Arctic island home. He doesn't show up, so she's sure he’s given her the brushoff.

When she learns he’s disappeared, she sets out on a mission to find him. Things go wrong from the start. Kat is thrown overboard during a violent storm, while her brother and his girlfriend are captured by a mutant island tribe. The mutants hold the girlfriend hostage, demanding the teens recover the only thing that can make the mutants human again–the magical Midnight Oil.

Mustering every bit of her Wiccan magic, Kat rises to the challenge. She invokes her magical skills, learns to fly an ultralight, meets a legendary sea serpent, rescues her boyfriend, and helps a friendly air spirit win the battle against her spiteful sibling. On top of it all, she’s able to recover the Midnight Oil and help the hapless mutants in the nick of time.

SCOTCH BROOM
A magical trip to Stonehenge lands a witch in the Otherworld where an ancient goddess is up to no good.

Kat expects to have a great time on her graduation trip to Stonehenge. However, from the moment she leaves the witches’ arctic island, Galdorheim, she gets in nothing but trouble. Her younger half-brother tries to horn in on her trip, she gets lost in the magical Otherworld realm, is led astray by a supposed friend, then she has to confront a Scottish goddess who’s fallen on hard times.

While dodging the goddess’ minions and trying to find her way out of the Otherworld, Kat soon learns she shouldn’t underestimate the old has-been for one second; the crone still has a few tricks that can drain a witch’s magic in a flash. To make matters worse, Kat's brother secretly followed her into the Otherworld. Now he’s in danger too. Kat has to go one on one with the goddess to save herself and her brother.

BLOOD TIES TESTED (Sequel Story)
Unfortunate events lead a half vampire boy into indulging his vampire side, leaving him with regret and sadness. Can dear old Dad help him forgive himself?

Following the events in the series Witches of Galdorheim, this additional tale relates what happens to Katrina the Witch's younger brother, Rune. Half vampire and half warlock, he faces life with a wisecrack and some powerful magic. Whatever happens, he does not want to be a vampire like his father. Unfortunate events lead him to fatally call on his vampire half. This failure leaves him in anguish. How can he assuage the guilt he feels? His mother thinks he needs to visit dead old dad, a vampire residing in the Tatras Mountains of Slovakia.

SPELLSLINGER (Prequel Story)
What does a teenage half-warlock, half-vampire do to have fun? Why build an old west town on a glacier in the Arctic. There he can play at being the good guy sheriff up against mean old Black Bart.

That things will go horribly wrong is a given. But how does Rune get into and out of the predicament?

This prequel story to the Witches of Galdorheim series gives the reader a chance to get to know the smart-aleck kid, Rune, before he got his magic down pat.

Happy Fathers Day to Step-Dads - They're Real Heroes

To all you guys who are taking the job seriously. Special kudos to step-fathers who treat their lady's kids like their own. Also, adoptive dads, a big huzzah for not believing your genes are all that special. You've proven how special they really are.

My husband, Jack, is both a step- and adoptive dad. He went well beyond the call of duty when he not only took on an 8-year-old and 11-year-old as a stepfather but also adopted them when their own biological father (boo on you) signed them over to avoid paying child support (he never did pay any).

I wrote TALES OF A TEXAS BOY  in honor of my own father. I figured the best I could do for him is to immortalize his tall (and partly true) tales. I call it fiction since I can't know exactly what happened when Dad Boles brought his bear to town, when the little red hen took up residence in Ma's kitchen, or how he really met May West in a little diner in East Texas.

On the other hand, nobody else was there, so how I wrote the stories might be the honest truth. Who's to say?

HAPPY FATHERS DAY, JACK!

HAPPY FATHERS DAY, HON!*

* In our family, my brothers and I called my father Honey just like Mom did. Okay, so we were a little whacky; we admit it freely.

Want to get your own father a great gift (or your step-father or your brother who is a great dad or for yourself whether you're a dad or not)?

Large Print Paperback at Amazon - Perfect Dads' Day gift.

Large Print Hard Cover at Amazon - Also a Perfect Dads' Day gift.

Audio Book at Audible

Photo-Illustrated Ebook

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. These are things he learned while dreaming of becoming a cowboy in West Texas during the Depression. Through Eddie, the hero of "Tales of a Texas Boy," we find that growing up is less about maturity and more about roping your dreams. Hold on tight. It's a bumpy ride. A wonderful read for anyone who enjoys books like "Little House on the Prairie" or "Tom Sawyer." A great bit of nostalgia for seniors, too.

A Father's Day Book

TALES OF A TEXAS BOY

You've heard the phrase "A Legend in His Own Time." That's when somebody does something so extraordinary they create a legend around themselves. As time moves on, the legendary aspect grows and morphs into something bigger and, well, more legendary. That legend is helped along by authors writing about the person. Some people have reputations built on very little reality.  19th Century writers hungry for an audience share exaggerated the feats of such legendary characters as Kit Carson, Billy the Kid, Calamity Jane, or Buffalo Bill Cody. These mostly untrue stories made good press for the city folks back east.

Then there's another type of legend. It's when an author bases a book on a real person nobody has ever heard about, but exaggerates the person's feats to make for good reading; the writer creates the legend. Can you think of a case where this has occurred? I imagine there are many, considering possible biographers who hero-worship their subject past the point of reality. One famous example is The Adventures of Baron Munchausen by Rudolf Erich Raspe. It's thought the Baron was a fictional version of Raspe himself.

Then I come to my own mini-legendary person: Little Eddie from Tales of a Texas Boy. The stories in this collection are mostly based on some brief vignettes passed to me by my father. Those of you who have read the print edition might have slowed down enough to peruse the Foreword where I lay out that Eddie is my father and some additional background on his life. Nothing too exciting there. He just happened to have a few incidents in his life that I could turn from a passing comment into a short story.

I made my father a legend. The stories I wrote about his experiences are so enhanced that they have become legends. Yes, a tiny part of the population know the stories. However, how long will the Tales books be out in the world? I published the first edition in June 2007. Coming up on the 17th anniversary next month. In these years, more than 15,000 people have had possession of the book in some form. They may have even read it. If I keep the book in print, how many people will get to know Eddie in ten years? I should mention that 1000 of those potential readers picked up the book in the last year.

What's my point here? Not sure other than to state my realization that even not-so-famous people can become legendary to some extent from some author deciding to write about them.

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in ebook, print, and audio formats. Side note: this book in large print is a popular Father's Day gift for those who may have lived through the Great Depression themselves or simply grew up in a rural area. They'll feel right at home.

Large Print at Amazon - Perfect Dad's Day gift. $7.99

Hardcover Print at Amazon - An even more perfect Dad's Day gift. $13.99

Ebook at Amazon Free for KindleUnlimited subscribers and Kindle Owners Lending Library (Prime users benefit) $2.99 to buy.

Tales of a Texas Boy Non-Kindle Ebook at other distributors through Draft2Digital $2.99

Audio Book at Audible $6.95. Often discounted if you buy the ebook from Amazon along with the ebook.

Every Dad Is Legendary

TALES OF A TEXAS BOY

Tales of a Texas Boy:

Tales of a Texas Boy Kindle Ebook $2.99

Tales of a Texas Boy Non-Kindle Ebook at other distributors through Draft2Digital $2.99

Tales of a Texas Boy Paperback  $6.99
Tales of a Texas Boy Hardback $13.99

Audio Book at Audible $6.99

You've heard the phrase "A Legend in His Own Time." That's when somebody does something so extraordinary they create a legend around themselves. As time moves on, the legendary aspect grows and morphs into something bigger and, well, more legendary. That legend is helped along by authors writing about the person. Some people have reputations built on very little reality.  19th Century writers hungry for audience share exaggerated the feats of such legendary characters as Kit Carson, Billy the Kid, Calamity Jane, Buffalo Bill Cody. These mostly untrue stories made good press for the city folks back east.

Then there's another type of legend. It's when an author bases a book on a real person nobody has ever heard about, but exaggerates the person's feats to make for good reading; the writer creates the legend. Can you think of a case where this has occurred? I imagine there are many, considering possible biographers who hero-worship their subject past the point of reality.

Then I come to my own mini-legendary person: Little Eddie from Tales of a Texas Boy. The stories in this collection are mostly based on some brief vignette passed to me from my father. Those of you who have read the print edition might have slowed down enough to peruse the Foreword where I lay out that Eddie is my father and some additional background on his life. Nothing too exciting there. He just happened to have a few incidents in his life that I could turn from a passing comment into a short story.

I made my father a legend. The stories I wrote about his experiences are so enhanced, they have become the stuff of legends. Yes, a very small part of the population know the stories. However, how long will the Tales books be out in the world? I published the first edition in June, 2007. Coming up on the 3rd anniversary next month. In three years, more than 2000 people have had possession of the book in some form. They may have even read it. If I keep the book in print, how many people will get to know Eddie in ten years? I should mention that the majority of those potential readers picked up the book in the last year.

What's my point here? Not sure other than to state my realization that even not so famous people can become legendary to some extent from some author deciding to write about them.

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in ebook, print, and audio formats. Side note: this book in large print is a popular Fathers' Day gift for those who may have lived through the Great Depression themselves or simply grew up in a rural area. They'll feel right at home.

Large Print at Amazon - Perfect Dads' Day gift.

Ebook at Amazon Free KindleUnlimited subscribers and Kindle Owners Lending Library (Prime users benefit)

Audio Book at Audible Only $1.99 if you buy the ebook from Amazon.

Gather Your Army!

REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED BY A MURDER OF CROWS

How to Befriend Crows and Turn Them Against Your Enemies

by Stephen Johnson

This is a delightful and practical article (link above) on gathering your own stealth army to do your bidding

In my Witches of Galdorheim series, my main gal, Katrina the klutzy witch, does have the ability to talk to the animals—sort of like Dr. Doolittle (isn’t Robert Downey smashing in this remake?). It didn’t occur to me to have Kat chatting up crows or ravens. Oversight!

She does have a close relationship with an orca named Salmon, her bunny familiar Teddy, Nessie, and various other non-human species. She did have some back and forth with a skua bird who was just about as rude as a crow or raven, but how did I miss not having a nice murder of crows circling overhead waiting to attack Kat’s enemies? Ah, well. What could have been…Anyway, read the article. It’s quite fun. You can also read my Witches of Galdorheim series if you’re so inclined.  All five of the Galdorheim books are available in a single volume. The books are also available individually, the single-volume set is the best price.

The Compleat and True History of the Witches of Galdorheim

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

Midnight Oil: Shipwrecked on a legendary island, how can a witch rescue her boyfriend if she can’t even phone home?

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

Blood Ties Tested: Unfortunate events lead a half vampire boy into indulging his vampire side, leaving him with regret and sadness. Can dear old Dad help him forgive himself?

Spellslinger (short story): What does a teenage half-warlock, half-vampire do to have fun? Why build an old west town on a glacier in the Arctic. There he can play at being the good guy sheriff up against mean old Black Bart. That things will go horribly wrong is a given. But how does Rune get into and out of the predicament?

Murder Most Foul

MISSING, ASSUMED DEAD

Prejudice, murder, insanity, suicide: Every small town has its secrets.
Kindle Ebook
Audiobook

Paperback

When Kameron McBride receives notice she's the last living relative of a missing man she's never even heard of, the last thing she wants to do is head Oregon to settle his affairs. En route, she and her rental car run afoul of a couple of hillbillies and their pickup in an accident that doesn't seem...accidental. Especially when they keep showing up wherever she goes. Lucky for her, gorgeous Deputy Mitch Caldwell lends her a hand, among other things. With Mitch's help, she peels away the layers of prejudice, suicide, murder, and insanity.

Multiple Points of View Using Flashback

One multiple POV method not mentioned is called the Rashomon effect because of the excellent way it was used in the Japanese film, Rashomon. A Wiki article lists several more examples of the technique used in popular culture.

This quote from Wiki is quite good: The Rashomon effect is the effect of the subjectivity of perception on recollection, by which observers of an event are able to produce substantially different but equally plausible accounts of it.

In "Missing, Assumed Dead" several characters are telling the main character, Kam McBride, what had happened in the past (a flashback). To avoid simple telling, I switched to another character's POV. I delineated these flashbacks into scenes, and even made them italic to set them off from the narrative.

The fun part is that the characters are relating the same incident to Kam, but each one has a slightly different view of the events, usually making themselves a bit more heroic than the other people in the same scene. This allows the reader to be suspect of the truthfulness of the characters.

It's not my original idea. That's why it already has a name, Rashomon Effect, in honor of the great Samurai movie of the 50s, directed by Akira Kurosawa and starring the wonderful Toshirō Mifune.

In the film, a crime occurs, and the film maker presents it four times, each from a different character's POV. Needless to say, the versions of the events vary, sometimes wildly, from each other. By the end of the film, you still don't know exactly what happened since none of the characters can be fully believed.

In addition to the contradictory retelling of the events by the different characters, there are two additional flashbacks. By the time they appear in the book, I hope the reader will be looking at everyone with suspicion.

Here are a couple of excerpts from "Missing, Assumed Dead," illustrating the Rashomon Effect in action. Two characters, Ray and George, describe their meeting to discuss the disappearance of Salvadore Vasco, the missing man of the title. Same event, but a big difference in the perception.

Ray's Story:

Ray went up the three steps into the Courthouse and turned left into George’s office. The self-appointed police chief sat behind his desk with his boots propped up on it. He raised his eyes from the Zane Grey novel he’d been reading.

“Hey there, Ray. What can I do you out of?” The fat man’s belly jiggled when he laughed at his own stale joke.

“I come about Salvadore.”

“Vasco?”

Ray shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glanced at the chair on his side of the desk. His legs ached, but he didn’t want to settle in for a long chat. George tended to run on some. “Only Salvadore in these parts far as I know. Anyways, has a habit of comin’ to town once a week, but he didn’t come last week nor this ’un.”

“So, what do you want me to do about it? Man’s gotta right to come to town or not.”

“True thing, but you know us old fellas like to stick to a schedule. It ain’t like him to not come in. I think someone oughta go up there and check on him.”

George glanced at the copy of Riders of the Purple Sage on his desk. “Why don’t you go, Ray? You’re his friend.”

“Yep, but he’d think I was buttin’ into his bizness if he’s okay. If you go, you can say sumthin’ about looking for someone else or what not.”

“So, I should lie to him but really just be checkin’ on his welfare, eh?”

“Yep. That’s what I’m thinkin’.”

George's Story

George sat in his office reading the latest statewide all-points bulletins for wanted criminals and stolen vehicles. Old man Ray from the Jack and Jill’s came in looking worried.

“Chief, I ain’t see Salvadore in a couple a weeks. I thought I’d better tell ya, since you’re the police and all.”

“Now, don’t get yourself all worked up, Ray. Old Salvadore prob’ly just don’t want to eat no more of your burnt burgers.”

Ray shook his head. “I don’t know what to do, George. Can you go check up on him?”

“Why sure, Ray. I’ll head up tomorrow morning for a welfare check.” George stood and walked around his desk. He patted Ray’s shoulder to comfort him. “You go on home and don’t fret. George is on the job.”

Ma 'Yote and Her Cubs

Excerpt from Tales of a Texas Boy about an encounter Eddie had with:

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.

Tales of a Texas Boy is available in Large Print paperback for $7.99 on Amazon. It's also in ebook format on Amazon ($2.99) or free if you subscribe to Kindle Unlimited. 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.

Writing Tips - The Rashomon Effect

One multiple POV method not mentioned is called the Rashomon effect because of the excellent way it was used in the Japanese film, Rashomon. A Wiki article lists several more examples of the technique used in popular culture.

This quote from Wiki is quite good: The Rashomon effect is the effect of the subjectivity of perception on recollection, by which observers of an event are able to produce substantially different but equally plausible accounts of it.

In "Missing, Assumed Dead" several characters are telling the main character, Kam McBride, what had happened in the past (a flashback). To avoid simple telling, I switched to another character's POV. I delineated these flashbacks into scenes and even made them italic to set them off from the narrative.

The fun part is that the characters are relating the same incident to Kam, but each one has a slightly different view of the events, usually making themselves a bit more heroic than the other people in the same scene. This allows the reader to be suspect of the truthfulness of the characters.

It's not my original idea. That's why it already has a name, Rashomon Effect, in honor of the great Samurai movie of the 50s, directed by Akira Kurosawa and starring the wonderful Toshirō Mifune.

In the film, a crime occurs, and the filmmaker presents it four times, each from a different character's POV. Needless to say, the versions of the events vary, sometimes wildly, from each other. By the end of the film, you still don't know exactly what happened since none of the characters can be fully believed.

In addition to the contradictory retelling of the events by the different characters, there are two additional flashbacks. By the time they appear in the book, I hope the reader will be looking at everyone with suspicion.

Here are a couple of excerpts from "Missing, Assumed Dead," illustrating the Rashomon Effect in action. Two characters, Ray and George, describe their meeting to discuss the disappearance of Salvadore Vasco, the missing man of the title. Same event, but a big difference in the perception.

Ray's Story:

Ray went up the three steps into the Courthouse and turned left into George’s office. The self-appointed police chief sat behind his desk with his boots propped up on it. He raised his eyes from the Zane Grey novel he’d been reading.

“Hey there, Ray. What can I do you out of?” The fat man’s belly jiggled when he laughed at his own stale joke.

“I come about Salvadore.”

“Vasco?”

Ray shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glanced at the chair on his side of the desk. His legs ached, but he didn’t want to settle in for a long chat. George tended to run on some. “Only Salvadore in these parts far as I know. Anyways, has a habit of comin’ to town once a week, but he didn’t come last week nor this ’un.”

“So, what do you want me to do about it? Man’s gotta right to come to town or not.”

“True thing, but you know us old fellas like to stick to a schedule. It ain’t like him to not come in. I think someone oughta go up there and check on him.”

George glanced at the copy of Riders of the Purple Sage on his desk. “Why don’t you go, Ray? You’re his friend.”

“Yep, but he’d think I was buttin’ into his bizness if he’s okay. If you go, you can say sumthin’ about looking for someone else or what not.”

“So, I should lie to him but really just be checkin’ on his welfare, eh?”

“Yep. That’s what I’m thinkin’.”

George's Story

George sat in his office reading the latest statewide all-points bulletins for wanted criminals and stolen vehicles. Old man Ray from the Jack and Jill’s came in looking worried.

“Chief, I ain’t see Salvadore in a couple a weeks. I thought I’d better tell ya, since you’re the police and all.”

“Now, don’t get yourself all worked up, Ray. Old Salvadore prob’ly just don’t want to eat no more of your burnt burgers.”

Ray shook his head. “I don’t know what to do, George. Can you go check up on him?”

“Why sure, Ray. I’ll head up tomorrow morning for a welfare check.” George stood and walked around his desk. He patted Ray’s shoulder to comfort him. “You go on home and don’t fret. George is on the job.”

* * *

Missing, Assumed Dead is available in ebook, print, and audio.

Kindle Ebook and Paperback
Audiobook (purchase with the ebook on Amazon for a great deal)

Prejudice, murder, insanity, suicide: Every small town has its secrets.When Kameron McBride receives notice she’s the last living relative of a missing man she’s never even heard of, the last thing she wants to do is head to some half-baked Oregon town to settle his affairs. But since she’s the only one available, she grudgingly agrees.En route, she runs afoul of a couple of hillbillies and their pickup in an accident that doesn’t seem...accidental. Especially when they keep showing up wherever she goes. Lucky for her, gorgeous Deputy Mitch Caldwell lends her a hand, among other things. Her suspicions increase when the probate Judge tries a little too hard to buy the dead man’s worthless property.Working on a hunch and trying to avoid the Judge’s henchmen, Kam probes deeper into the town’s secrets and finds almost no one she can trust. With Mitch’s help, she peels away the layers of prejudice, suicide, murder, and insanity. But someone in town doesn’t like her poking around, and when they show their intentions by shooting her through the police chief’s office window, the stakes are raised. Kam must find out what really happened to her dead relative before someone in this backward little town sends her to join him.And she thought Oregon was going to be boring.

Two NEW Large Print Books

Both books in "The Tales of Abu Nuwas" collection are now available in large print. I'm going to figure out a way to make them bargains despite the required minimum price. Authors who publish their own work on Amazon know what I mean.

The Tales of Abu Nuwas: Setara's Genie: Large Print Edition

Abu Nuwas sits in the bazaar on his threadbare rug; a cup and sign proclaim him a teller of tales. For one small coin, he bids passers by to listen. A poor girl, Najda, sells spices from a tray. Would he, she asks, trade a tale for a packet of spice? Abu Nuwas agrees and begins the epic adventures of a girl and her genie.

As did Scheherazade before him, Abu leaves Najda hanging in the middle of each yarn to keep her coming back. Between stories, he questions the girl about her life. He discovers that she’s been promised in marriage to an old man whom she hates, but she must wed him to save her sick mother’s life. The rich bridegroom will pay for the doctors the mother needs. Meanwhile, Najda sells spices in the market to earn enough money to keep her mother alive.

Faizah's Destiny: The Tales of Abu Nuwas 2: Large Print Edition

The gods are at war and only a farmer’s daughter can save the world from Armageddon.

The village magician has gone missing. His four pupils think he has left a clue to his whereabouts in the Magicalis Bestialis--the book of magical creatures. They must seek the help of the elusive Simurgh, the mythical birds who know all the secrets of the universe.

However, this is not an easy camping trip into the mountains. Spirits, gods, and demons confront the four friends, who are not aware they’re being set up by otherworldly forces for a much larger task.

A farmer’s daughter, Faizah is chosen to lead the humans in the battle. She must persuade a slave, an orphan, and a rich merchant’s son to join in the battle on the side of good. Although divided by Dev, the evil god of war, the teens must band together to find the Simurgh, rescue their teacher, and stave off Armageddon.

Setara Speaks

 THE TALES OF ABU NUWAS: SETARA'S GENIE

At first, all I wanted was a little romance in my life, just the slightest bit of adventure. Was I seeking danger? Did I wish to consort with demons? Heavens, no! I will have to admit, though, the idea of being the future wife of a rich merchant was highly unappealing.

When the mountain raiders kidnapped me, I thought that I’d have neither adventure nor much future at all. Especially when the raiders threw me into the cave as a sacrifice to the demon who supposedly ruled within the mountain.

I’m happy to say that Basit wasn’t a demon at all, but a genie in search of a new master. I wondered what happened to his old master, and he assured me the man died of natural causes. I also wondered why Basit wasn’t in a bottle or lamp as the legends say. Again, he assured me that only the stupidest of djinns would get themselves caught in that manner.  Genies choose their masters, and Basit thought that having a female master—a mistress, so to speak—would be a nice change of pace.

Once he forced me to figure out how to get out of the cave, he continued to be of little help. Well, that’s not entirely true. He did change a camp dog into a sheik (a handsome one, of course) when I asked him to, but that didn’t work out entirely. It seems that Basit prefers to have his charge (that’s me) figure out how to rescue herself. Sheik, when returned to his dog self, became my close companion from then on. So, something good did come from my wish for a rescuer. It just turned out not to be as romantic as I first believed.

Once I had tasted freedom and a touch of adventure, I hungered for more. It occurred to me that some other poor soul might be thrown into the cave for the demon to eat (even though there never was a demon), and it was up to me to rescue them.

I wasn’t sure how to get Basit’s attention, since he simply disappeared once I was safely home. It turned out that calling him worked eventually. I’ll have to say he sometimes takes his own sweet time to answer my summons. Not a very obedient djinn. I got used to him, though, and we enjoyed many adventures together. But our first adventure (after my initial rescue) turned out far different than I imagined. There was, indeed, a lost soul within the cave, but not exactly what I expected.

Blurb:

Abu Nuwas sits in the bazaar on his threadbare rug; a cup and sign proclaim him a teller of tales. For one small coin, he bids passers by to listen. A poor girl, Najda, sells spices from a tray. Would he, she asks, trade a tale for a packet of spice? Abu Nuwas agrees and begins the epic adventures of a girl and her genie.

As did Scheherazade before him, Abu leaves Najda hanging in the middle of each yarn to keep her coming back. Between stories, he questions the girl about her life. He discovers that she’s been promised in marriage to an old man whom she hates, but she must wed him to save her sick mother’s life. The rich bridegroom will pay for the doctors the mother needs. Meanwhile, Najda sells spices in the market to earn enough money to keep her mother alive.

He relates the adventures of the bored daughter of a rich merchant, Setara, and her genie, Basit, as they encounter the creatures of legend and folklore: a lonely cave demon seeking a home; a flying, fire-breathing horse who has lost his mate; a dragon searching for his family; an evil genie hunting for the man who put him in a lamp; and a merboy prince cast out of his undersea kingdom.

Excerpt

The cave looked much the same as the month before. Shrubbery partially covered the mouth, but someone had shoved most of it to one side. It didn’t look like anyone had been here since they escaped. Still, they continued cautiously to the opening and stood for a few moments considering whether to just go in.

Setara tapped her finger on her chin. “Oh, I’ve got it. Change Sheik into a mouse so he can enter quietly to see what’s inside.” Basit performed the transformation, and the tiny brown Sheik-mouse scurried into the cave.

A shrill scream emanated from the cave’s depths. Sheik came tearing out as fast as his little mouse legs could carry him. He stopped in front of Setara. “Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak-squeak.”

She looked at Basit, who shrugged his big shoulders.

Setara rolled her eyes.  “He needs to be able to speak human language.” She thought it obvious.

Basit waved his hands.

Sheik said, “Squeak, squeak, squeak-squeak,” but in a human voice.

“What does that mean?” Setara was just about fed up with Basit’s tricks.

“Well, I can only assume a mouse’s squeaks translate to more squeaks, not to any actual words.”

“We’ll have to go in, then.” Setara did her best to sound brave. “First, change Sheik back into a dog.” Basit transformed Sheik yet again.

“After you,” Basit answered, sweeping a deep bow.

Setara hunched down and frog-walked through the low opening of the cave. Once inside, she stood up and peered into the dark depths. She saw two red, glowing eyes staring at her from across the cave. She jumped back, nearly tripping over Sheik, who had followed close behind her.

Suddenly, the eyes disappeared, and the sound of running feet came from the depths; then a tremendous thud echoed through the cave. A moan; then a groan; then silence.

Setara stood still, straining to hear anything else, but the cave was now quiet. Basit appeared next to her in a puff of smoke looking as puzzled as she did. Sheik whined deep in his throat, seemingly unsure whether a growl was justified.

The three adventurers took a step forward as if they shared the same thought. Perhaps the cry came from one of the poor souls kidnapped by the raiders. The captive might run if he or she thought they were the kidnappers, or even the mountain demon the raiders believed lived in this cavern.

Slowly, they wended their way down a tunnel that led deeper into the caverns. Basit flicked a flame alight on the tip of his finger, holding his hand high, so they could see beyond the shadows. Sheik sniffed the air, turning his head left and right to catch a scent. At least they could rely on the dog to find the source of the cries.

It did not take long before they found a figure huddled on the floor of the tunnel. Basit stuck out his foot and gingerly rolled the form to expose its face. Setara crouched to look, but immediately lurched backward and fell away from the body.

“What is it?” Basit whispered.

“A, a demon.” Setara’s voice trembled at the sight of the face staring blankly toward the ceiling. It certainly looked like a demon: the open eyes glowing red, the gaping mouth exposing long fangs overlapping the sharp row of teeth in the bottom jaw, the broad proboscis more snout than nose. Setara could now see the fallen creature was larger than she first thought, almost as big as Basit.

Sheik drew his lips back and snarled; the first time the dog had ever shown any bravery.

The red eyes slowly came to life. The three friends found themselves transfixed in the stare of a horrible demon.

“Don’t hurt me,” a deep voice begged. Then, the demon began to cry, at first a few sniffles, then launching into full-scale sobs and wails.

* * *

Happy Vernal (Spring) Equinox

HAPPY SPRING (Vernal) EQUINOX!!

The Vernal Equinox (Spring to you lay folk) this year is March 20th 3:06AM UTC (Universal Time). Since I live on the west coast of the North American continent, Spring will be officially here on March 19th at 8:06PM PDT. Of course, that only holds true if you're in the northern hemisphere. South of the equator, the Vernal Equinox is in September.

The Vernal Equinox means that there is an equal amount of day and night. It occurs when the Sun crosses the celestial equator going south to north. It’s called the “celestial” equator because it’s an imaginary line in the sky above the Earth’s equator. Imagine standing on the equator; the Sun would pass directly overhead on its way north. 

On the March equinox, the Northern Hemisphere and Southern Hemisphere receive roughly equal amounts of sunlight; neither hemisphere is tilted more toward or away from the Sun than the other. Here's a helpful illustration.

Okay, now that's all clear, just what does it mean. For one thing, Spring is the marker when the growing season begins (well, sort of). If that's not something to celebrate then what is?

Humans have recognized this change in the amount of daylight and have noted that there seems to be a bit more greenery for thousands of years. Along with the Spring, these ancestors noted the changes for other seasons. Summer has the most daylight, Fall has equal amounts of day and night, Winter has really long nights (if you live above the Arctic Circle, you'll get only day (Summer) or only night (Winter).

Here’s an interesting fact: Equinoxes are the only two times each year that the Sun rises due east and sets due west for all of us on Earth! While the Sun passes overhead, the tilt of the Earth is zero relative to the Sun, which means that Earth’s axis neither points toward nor away from the Sun. (Note, however, that the Earth never orbits upright, but is always tilted on its axis by about 23.5 degrees.)

An Irish Ghost Tale

In my book, "Eagle Quest," the kids are sitting around a campfire, the looming darkness and flickering of the fire made them all a bit edgy. So, of course, they proceeded to tell ghost stories. Fiona is telling this tale and her friends, Hap and Billy, are the audience.

* * *

“This is the story of Bridget who was hired to be the nanny for two kids whose parents died in a horrible accident. Now, this all happened in Ireland way back, so don’t go so why this or why that. It’s just how the story happened, okay?”

The boys nodded solemnly. Fiona usually told pretty good stories, so Billy and Hap were willing to listen without making too much fun.

“Anyway, if you’ll all be quiet, I’ll start.”

The boys settled themselves comfortably. Hap and Billy knew Fiona. This was not going to be a short story.

Fiona cleared her throat and began to tell the tale using her best Irish brogue.

“The uncle hired Bridget to act as a nanny for two children whose parents had died. She was supposed to care for them until he could come to take them.

“The boy had blond hair and blue eyes and the girl had dark hair and brown eyes. They had names that were almost alike. The girl was Frances and the boy Francis.

“The children told Bridget there was one thing they must do every day. They needed to go to the graves of their parents which were a little way away from the house.

“Bridget thought it was fine the children wanted to visit the graves of their dead parents, so she didn’t object. She watched them from a window in the second floor. She saw them stand by the graves and thought they might be praying or even singing a song.

“One day, she told the children the weather was getting too bad and she didn’t want them to go to the graves. The children begged and cried, but Bridget didn’t want them to get sick, so she was strict about it.

“When she went to the children’s room the next day to get them up, the boy who was blond had dark hair and the girl who used to be dark was now blonde.”

Billy interrupted at this point. “Was that magic or what?”

“Can you just sit back and let me tell the story?”

“Sure. Sorry. I won’t say another word.”

Fiona continued, “It startled Bridget, but the children insisted they had always been this way and that Bridget was mistaken to think it was the other way around.

“Still, she decided they were lying and, although she couldn’t figure out why, she took them to the village priest. ‘Father, these children have changed. Look at them!’

“The Priest looked at the children and saw the boy was light and the girl was dark. He said, ‘What should I be seeing, Bridget?’

“Bridget saw the children had changed back to the way they were before. She was worried she was going crazy to make such a mistake.

“They all returned home and Bridget kept the children in her room so she could make sure they didn’t go to the grave. She watched the grave through the second story window.

“She saw a green glow come up from the grave and then the children appeared standing next to it. She turned around and saw the children still in the room asleep. She looked back and the children were gone again and the green glow had faded. But, the next morning, the children had changed again. The boy was dark and the girl was blonde.

“This happened again the next night and Bridget thought she must be going mad. She decided she’d just ignore it and pretend it was a trick of the moonlight on vapors rising out of the ground. Just some innocent thing. As for her seeing the children at the grave when they were in the room, she thought the shadows from the limbs of the tree next to the grave were to blame.

“The next day, she heard the clock chime. Since it chimed every fifteen minutes, hearing it wasn’t unusual, but every little noise made her more afraid.

“Then, she left the children in the room and went down into the hallway where the big grandfather clock stood. It was exactly eight o’clock on the morning of November 21^st. The pendulum on the clock had stopped. Bridget knew that was the exact date and time the children’s parents died one year before.

“She slowly climbed the stairs again and went back into the children’s room. The boy and girl were gone. She looked out the window toward the graves and saw the children standing there. She knew they couldn’t have gone by her when she was in the hallway.

“She felt a chill come into the air. Walking out into the hallway again, she saw a greenish light coming from under the door of the parents’ bedroom, a room that hadn’t been opened since the day they died.

“This was all too much for Bridget and she ran screaming from the house. She ran down the lane to the village. She ran right to the church.

“Gasping for breath, she found the Father in his office and opened her mouth to speak. But nothing came out. She couldn’t make a sound. The priest saw that she was terrified. Her skin was white as chalk and her mouth gaped open as she tried to speak.

“The priest arranged for someone to go watch the children. He brought Bridget to the doctor, but the doctor said she had a disease of the mind, not the body and he couldn’t help her.

“The woman the priest sent to watch the children came back and said they were not at the house. The villagers arranged for search parties, but they couldn’t find them anywhere. The rumors started that Bridget murdered the children and buried them somewhere, but no grave was ever found.

“The village got together and sent Bridget to the Insane Asylum, where she lived out her days unable to speak. All she could do is scream whenever she heard the sound of a chiming clock.”

Fiona stopped and looked around the campfire. “That’s the end of the story,” she said, so the boys would know she was finished.

“Wow. That is a pretty good story, Fiona. It’s one of those old Irish stories, right?”

“Yes, it’s an old Irish tale, but every word is absolutely true.”

The boys laughed, but were a little uneasy when they looked at the looming black trees surrounding them.