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.

Read an Ebook Week Starts Today!

Smashwords Read an Ebook Week sale!

March 3 - March 9, 2024

Happy Read an Ebook Week! To help you find a book to celebrate, you can find my entire collection at a promotional price at @Smashwords from March 3-9. Find my books and many more at https://smashwords.com/shelves/promos

You can find all my books at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/mgdasef

Click on any you might like to read for free. The price will be FREE at checkout. Remember, you'll need to copy the books to your ereader or PC.

Spring Read an Ebook Week Coming Soon

I’m excited to announce ALL OF MY BOOKS will be promoted as part of a special sale on @Smashwords to celebrate Read an Ebook Week 2024 from March 3-9. Be sure to follow me for more updates and links to the promotion for my books and many more! #ebookweek24 #Smashwords

To see all the books I have on sale, click on the Ebooks on Smashwords tab at the top of this post or click this link https://mgddasef.blogspot.com/p/ebooks-on-smashwords.html

https://smashwords.com/shelves/promos

Free Short Stories

FREE EBOOK 2/23-27

Mixed Bag 2: Supersized is packed full of short stories which were published somewhere and sometime in the past 14 years. Here's a sample to get you started. Hey! It's free. What have you got to lose?

No Deposit, No Return

Literary Science Fiction/Horror

Originally published in Diddledog Flash Fiction

The woman in the black trench coat darted her eyes down the darkened alley. The smell of the overripe dumpster turned her stomach. Her nausea came not only from the rotted food odor, but from her already nerve-twisted guts.

“Did you get it?” she whispered to the man.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. Piece of cake.” He reached inside his jacket, withdrawing a small package no bigger than the palm of his hand.

She reached for it, but the man jerked it back.

“The money first.”

She took an envelope from her purse and held it out. The man pushed the package toward her and grabbed the envelope at the same moment she snatched the brown-paper-wrapped container.

“I don’t know why you want this, lady. It creeps me out,” the man said, as he thumbed through the hundred-dollar bills in the envelope.

Without another word, the two parted, the woman toward the far end of the alley and the man back to the street.

* * *

Nine months later, the woman named Karla lay in a hospital bed, staring at the newborn in the crib beside her. She and her boyfriend, Curt, had planned every detail. The demand for ten million dollars went with a tissue sample, a simple scraping from inside the child’s mouth. It would take some time for the family to check that the baby’s DNA came from the dead man, but when they got the results, the money would surely follow.

The billionaire died without an heir, despite marrying a young trophy wife in a last, desperate attempt for progeny. She put him off until it was too late.

* * * For the Rest of the Story, Get the Free Ebook 2/23-2/27 * * *

This story and a bunch more are all available in "Mixed Bag 2: Supersized." The book is free on Amazon from February 14th - 18th. One whole week of free reading if you haven't got a date.

Gung Hay Fat Choy - Year of the Dragon

Lunar New Year (Chinese New Year) happens this year on Saturday, February 10, 2024. This year ushers in the year of the Dragon! What is the Lunar New Year, and who celebrates this holiday? What does the dragon symbolize, and what is your special animal symbol? Learn more.

When Is the Lunar New Year?

Lunar New Year begins on the date (in East Asia) of the second new Moon after the winter solstice, which always occurs in late December. This means that the first day of the Lunar New Year can occur anytime between January 21 and February 20. 

In 2024, the second new Moon will occur in China on Saturday, February 10, marking the start of a new lunar year.

What Qualities Does the Dragon Represent?

Those born in the Year of the Dragon are believed to be ambitious, energetic, and charismatic, often inspiring others with their passion and enthusiasm. They are considered to be natural leaders, confident and unafraid to take risks, making them magnetic personalities in social and professional circles.

How Is the Lunar New Year Celebrated?

As with many winter solstice celebrations, the symbolic darkness of night is banished by the light of fireworks, lanterns, and candles. Man-made paper lanterns are hung by the hundreds in public areas, bringing good luck to the new year.

There are dragon dances, performances, and festival parades with music and acrobatics. The festivities continue for two weeks, finishing with a special lantern festival, which signals the end of the New Year celebration period.

“Good Luck” is also a common theme of the New Year. Many children receive “lucky money” in red envelopes. Sometimes, offerings are made to temples. 

People clean their homes and open their doors to let good luck enter. According to tradition, no one should pick up a broom in case you sweep the good luck for the New Year out of the door!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* Much of this material came from other sources describing the Lunar New Year. Mainly, the Farmer's Almanac's article by Catherine Boeckmann provided most of the words.

Ultimate Duty - Space Opera, Exploding Ships, Hot Sex

Re-edited and formatted properly, ULTIMATE DUTY is now available on Amazon re-issued by me. I think the $3.99 price point is much more reasonable than the out-of-contract but still being sold edition from Eternal Press. Giving fair warning you'll be seeing some promo stuff on this new edition.

Ultimate Duty
A military officer must choose between her sworn duty or her rebellious blood ties.

Remy Belieux, a woman born into a life of servitude on a repressive factory planet, is desperate for a different life. When she's accepted into the Space Service Academy, run by the organization that enslaves her planet, she discovers the truth behind generations of rebellion. Now, she must decide what to believe, where her ultimate duty lies, and fight for more than her life against impossible odds.

Available on Amazon for only $3.99. I actually get a few cents if you use this option.

I'VE GOT EPUB, MOBI, AND PDF. IF I LIKE THE CUT OF YOUR JIB, SELECT THIS BLANK SPOT XR78X TO SHOW A FREEBIE COUPON CODE FOR BOTH FIRST DUTY* AND ULTIMATE DUTY AT SMASHWORDS. OKAY, YOU DON'T REALLY HAVE TO SHOW ME YOUR JIB.

* First Duty is the PG version of the R-rated Ultimate Duty.

Excerpt

One day, Remy spotted a small ship where it had no good reason to be. “Sir, we have a blip heading toward the planet. Its course isn’t on the prescribed jump route within this planetary system.”

Captain Micah glanced at Remy, then spoke to the communications officer. “Hail the ship.” The radioman worked for a few seconds. “I can’t locate their frequency, sir.”

The Captain stared through the view screen at the rapidly receding ship. “Try a broad-range hail. Tell them to stand down.” He glanced toward the communications station. “Any luck?”

“No, sir. I don’t think they have their ears on, at least in the usual frequencies.”

The ship shot away from the Excalibur and Remy tracked its course. “It’s heading for that planet. It’s not classified as habitable.”

Captain Micah opened ship-wide communications. “Captain Micah here. Crew, go to battle stations. This is not a drill.” He looked at the pilot who punched in coordinates for a wide turn toward the fleeing ship.

Remy’s stomach tightened as the klaxon alarms alerted the entire ship to ready for attack. Disappointment replaced tension as she watched the ship reach the small planet and circle behind the lifeless orb. We’ve lost it!

“Coward should stay and fight,” grumbled an ensign near Remy. She glanced his way and hushed him, tilting her head toward the captain. “Pay attention.” The ensign’s cheeks flared in embarrassment.

“Ahead slow,” the captain ordered. “This could be a trap. Put us into high orbit and extend all scanners to maximum range and power.” Excalibur edged its way slowly around the airless planet thousands of kilometers below.

“I’ve got him, sir!” a crewman reported. “A single blip on the short-range scanner.”

Remy added the short-range display to a corner of her own screen and saw the flickering dot representing the fleeing ship. She grinned. “Gotcha!” But nothing else appeared in range. She hoped they might get some action now, even if only the capture of a small ship.

“All right. Take us in slow,” the captain replied. The pilot cut back power and brought the ship around to the planet’s far side. The small ship came into view, hovering in a stationary orbit.

“Hail them.” Again, the ship didn’t respond, and the captain gestured to the pilot to move in. Remy turned her scanners toward the planet surface, searching for any activity. Seeing nothing, she switched to thermal scan. Out of nowhere a red-hot dot appeared on the screen, then another. “Captain, I’m getting heat signatures moving near the surface.”

Captain Micah glanced her way, not expecting to hear from the long-range scanning console. “What do you have, Lieutenant?”

“Ten, no, twelve, maybe more heat signatures. Nothing bigger than a cutter, and they’re all in motion. It looks like they’re coming out of a fissure. I don’t detect any structures.”

Remy feared her warning came too late to do any good. Excalibur was fast, once it got moving but, like most ships its size, not very maneuverable this close to a planet.

The smaller ships exploded from the surface. Too fast for normal takeoff velocity, the tiny vessels clearly had a lot of extra power. It was a dangerous move since it’d be easy to lose control traveling way over the limits for the small ships. But it worked.

Some attackers split to flank the cruiser on both sides. Two of them took station above and two below the ship, while two more moved to the stern, effectively surrounding the cruiser. The engineers had designed Excalibur, like most ships in its class, as a pursuit ship, with most of its weapons aimed forward. They could only fire on the ships facing them until the gunners brought the smaller, less effective peripheral weaponry to bear.

Captain Micah glanced at his display. “Weapons, recalibrate for port and starboard, max angle. Fire at will.”

The bridge crew cheered when a burst of laser fire destroyed one of the ships. Metallic fragments drifted outward from the single brief flash of the exploding drive.

HAPPY WHATEVER HOLIDAY YOU CELEBRATE!

MERRY 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.

Yule: A 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.

Hanukkah: This year, the beginning of Hanukkah fell on December 18th. 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 Hanukkah 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.

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.

Hans Trapp - Christmas Boogieman

 Credit to Tony Lagarto for the story of Hans Trapp

This is Hans Trapp, a legendary boogieman from the Alsace and Lorraine regions of France. He accompanies Santa Claus to punish naughty children at Christmas. While Santa delivers presents and gifts, Hans Trapp delivers beatings.

The Christmas legend of Hans Trapp is based on a real German knight, and begins with a wealthy man stealing people’s money and partying so hard that the Pope ex-communicates him. The story goes that Trapp then sells his soul to the devil to pursue a life of sin, which naturally forces him into a hobby of eating human flesh, as such a one is wont to do. Banished from society for being a skeevy creep, he lived alone in the woods and dressed as a scarecrow, stuffing straw into his clothes and at times wearing a black cloak. He spends his time trying to lure children into the woods so he can eat them.

One day after roasting a shepherd boy over a fire (or just getting ready to, the legend goes back and forth on this one), God decided enough was enough and struck Trapp down with a lightning bolt that split his head open.

But that didn’t stop this cannibal – he got a new gig helping Saint Nicholas out by keeping naughty kids in line.

Some accounts of Hans Trapp paint him in a rosier light (could there be any that are darker?), saying that he regrets his life of sin. In these versions, he visits misbehaving children dressed as a scarecrow and tries to persuade them to be more virtuous than he was, usually by scaring them into it.

But other stories, in classic creepy Christmas fashion, say he goes around marking the children he wants to eat on Christmas Eve.

The German knight this legend is based on was named Hans Von Trotha and was born in 1450. Apparently, he didn’t really do any of the stuff mentioned in the legend, except get into a war against an abbey, which led to him being ex-communicated by the Pope. But who really cares about those pesky factual details when you can just scare the crap out of your kids on Christmas instead?

Krampus

Of course, we all love Santa Claus (or Santa Claws from "Nightmare Before Christmas"), but leave us not forget the adorable Krampus. After all, without Krampus, bad children wouldn't just get coal in their stocking, but they'd also be kidnapped, thrown into a sack, and eaten by the lovely Krampus. The Grinch ain't got nothin' on Krampus.

Here's some stuff from Wikipedia:

In folklore, Krampus is a horned, anthropomorphic figure described as "half-goat, half-demon", who, during the Christmas season, punishes children who have misbehaved, in contrast with Saint Nicholas, who rewards the well-behaved with gifts.

Krampus is one of the companions of Saint Nicholas in several countries including Austria, Bavaria, Croatia, Czech Republic, Hungary, Slovenia, South Tyrol and parts of Northern Italy. The origin of the figure is unclear; some folklorists and anthropologists have postulated its pre-Christian origin.

In traditional parades and in such events as the Krampuslauf (English: Krampus run), young men dressed as Krampus participate; such events occur annually in most European countries.

As evil as jolly Saint Krampus is, his role of getting naughty children to behave has worked wonders in the Slavic areas of Europe.

And, of course, buy my books. And, of course, you probably won't.

Smashwords Site-Wide Christmas Sale 12/15-31

Bored spitless? Want to give cyber holiday presents? There are a ton of books (very light since they're ebooks) discounted on Smashwords End of Year Extravaganza sale. Find something to read in just about any genre. Many free and 99 cent books available.

MARK DOWN SALE December 15th-31st (see sitewide sale books here) 

See all of my books with discounted prices by clicking this sentence.

Holoddities #3

Continuing the Weird Christmas Traditions for your entertainment.

 Kallikantzaroi

• Latvia: A group of "mummers" travel from house to house where they are given a treat in return for their blessing. This sounds more like Halloween to me.
• Guatemala: Folks sweep out their houses and put all the dirt in a communal pile with an effigy devil on top which is then burned. This must be an "out with the evil" gesture.
• Cuba: Every December, Cuban city Remedios hosts the Parrandas Festival. The city splits in half, with each side building the biggest, baddest, fanciest light sculpture display ever. My husband does this by himself every year. No competition so far.
• Bavaria: Bavarian Highlanders dressed in lederhosen fire mortars into the air. Sure, why not? 
• Greece: The evil goblins, the Kallikantzaroi, lurk in the depths of the earth until Christmas Eve, when they spring up to create havoc. I wonder if anybody has seen this. It seems it'd be a great tourist draw.
• Slovakia: The most senior man of the house takes a spoonful of loksa pudding and flings it to the ceiling. The more that sticks, the better. What is it with weird things to do with pudding?
• Japan: Christmas cards are also a Japanese tradition, but they never ever are red. Red, of course, is the color for funerals. I suppose that means the cards could have lots of black, making them dual purpose for Halloween as well.
• Canada: The Canadian postal service recognizes the address "SANTA CLAUS, THE NORTH POLE, CANADA HO HO HO." Letters addressed this way are opened and replied to by the well-known Royal Canadian Mounted Elves.
• Finland: Holiday cards have tributes to the dearly departed. Finnish Cemeteries are lit with Christmas lights, making them a lovely sight on Christmas night.
• Iceland: The kids leave a shoe on their windowsill for the 12 Days of Christmas. Each night, some Finnish elves fill the shoes with candy and other goodies. I like the Finnish elves. They're a generous lot.
• England: Stockings are hung by the chimney with care with hopes St. Nicholas doesn't just leave a lump of coal.
• South Africa: A little rotter named Danny ate all of Santa's cookies, the legend goes. Granny wasn't happy about this and killed Danny for being a greedy little punk. This is far worse than getting a lump of coal.
• United States: In many cities, the Running of the Santas, draws a large crowd of spectators as the Santas rush from pub to bar to tavern getting as drunk as they can on the free drinks provided by the owners of the establishments. Of course, they sell a lot of drinks to the folks who want to watch the Santas get smashed.

That's all the weird stuff I have for now. If I find more, I'll most certainly add it to the lists. In the meantime, consider books as the perfect gift for any friend or member of the family.

How about some Science Fiction? These two books have the same plot. One is not the sequel of the other. Here's the difference: Ultimate Duty is R-rated and has some additional space battle scenes. First Duty is PG if you're looking for the same fantastic plot but without the sex.

Ultimate Duty $3.99 at Amazon, $8.19 Print, Audiobook at Audible $19.95 or free with subscription.

and First Duty $2.99 at Amazon, $8.99 Print, $13.08 or Audiobook at Audible or free with subscription to Audible.com

FYI: Tall, redheaded heroines kick ass. 

Yes, they do. But mostly only in fantasy and science fiction. When I wrote a redheaded heroine in my books "First Duty" and "Ultimate Duty," I used as my model a real-life person I had known years ago. She was a natural redhead, close to 6' tall (and more in her Frye boots), and she kicked every single ass while barely moving a muscle.

ULTIMATE DUTY:  A military officer must choose between her sworn duty or her rebellious blood ties.

Facing a life of drudgery on a repressive factory planet, Remy Belieux longs to escape. Her only option for release is to enlist in the Space Service, becoming a soldier for her own world’s oppressors.

She receives her first assignment: guarding a charismatic rebel leader being transported to a prison planet. When rebel troops surprise them, Remy fails to thwart the ambush. Despite a commendation from her Captain, she feels she must redeem herself by recapturing the handsome fugitive.

Shocked by what she learns during the pursuit–her own family’s past involvement in the rebellion–Remy faces a dilemma: remain loyal to the oath she swore as a soldier or join the rebel cause and condemn herself to a death sentence for treason. What is her ULTIMATE DUTY?

FIRST DUTY: Nyra Hutchings, a young woman born into a life of servitude on a repressive factory planet, is desperate for a different life.

When she's accepted into the Space Service Academy, run by the organization that enslaves her planet, she discovers the truth behind generations of rebellion. 

Now, she must decide what to believe, where her first duty lies, and fight for more than her life against impossible odds. What is her FIRST DUTY?

Holoddities #2

Continuing the Weird Christmas Traditions for your entertainment.

Mary Lwyd of Wales

• Estonia: The whole family hits the sauna on Christmas Eve.
• Wales: Someone is chosen to play Mari Lywd who walks through town with the skull of a horse on a stick. I'm baffled by this one.
• Iceland: I like this one. If an Icelander doesn't get new clothes before Christmas, the killer mountain Yule cat eats them. 
• Czech Republic: Desperate for marriage it seems. Czech ladies throw a shoe over one shoulder from the door way. The direction the shoe is pointed determines if they'll be married in the coming year.
• Sweden: Authorities in the village of Gävle decided to install a straw goat statue in the town square. Every other year, somebody burns it down before Christmas. Both are fine traditions.
• Sweden (again): Rice pudding is standard fare for dessert. The Christmas special has an almond buried somewhere in it. The lucky person who finds it will supposedly get married within a year. I assume only single folks of marrying age have a go at the pudding.
• Great Britain: Speaking of puddings, tradition calls for each member of the household to stir the pudding in a clockwise direction while making a wish. I guess that's better than a lump of coal.
• Italy: A witch named Befana is the deliverer of presents to children (not that stodgy Santa). But the kids have to wait for the blessings of Befana until January 6th.
• Ethiopia: Christian Ethiopians celebrate Christmas on January 7th. Everybody wears white and the guys play ganna, a fast pace game of ... hockey?

More weird stuff coming here in the next few days.

How about a complete series about the Witches of Galdorheim for a Christmas present? The compendium of the four books and one short story of Kat's adventures learning her witch powers is now available in a single ebook. However, all the separate books are also in print. All are available through:

Amazon, of course

The books and stories are:

BAD SPELLING (Book 1): A klutzy witch, a shaman's curse, a quest to save her family. Can Kat find her magic in time?

MIDNIGHT OIL (Book 2): Shipwrecked on a legendary island, how can a witch rescue her boyfriend if she can’t even phone home?

SCOTCH BROOM (Book 3): A magical trip to Stonehenge lands a witch in the Otherworld where an ancient goddess is up to no good.

BLOOD TIES TESTED (Book 4): Written by popular demand of readers who want to know what happens to Rune after the Book 3 conclusion. 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 (Prequel Short Story): Written by popular demand of readers who adore Kat's smart-aleck brother. It's a short story prequel to the Witches series is dedicated to Kat's brother, Rune. A super speller, he's plagued with his half-vampire heritage. This story gives a bit more of his trials growing up on the Witches' Island.