Mystery, Cozy Mystery, Romantic Suspense
Date Published: August 20, 2018
What do you do with a diamond no one wants? You can’t keep it. Or can you?
While cleaning her ex-husband’s effects out of the attic, Terri finds an exquisite diamond pendant necklace. She’s determined to return the necklace to its proper owner, but the owner was brutally killed, a murder which remains unsolved, and her heirs want nothing to do with the diamond. Terri embarks upon a journey researching charities to which she can donate the diamond. When her research becomes dangerous, Terri contemplates solving the murder herself. Her best friend, Melanie, jumps feet first into investigating the murder, but her neighbor, Ryder, doesn’t want Terri exposed to any danger. Ryder, to Terri’s surprise, also wants to be more than neighbors with Terri. Luckily, he’s prepared to take any measure necessary to keep her safe because someone is determined to stop her inquiries.
Join Terri on her quest to find a home for the diamond, which may result in the unveiling of a murderer – if she survives long enough.
Excerpt
“How are we going to solve the murder if we don’t even know where it happened?”
“We are not solving the murder! How many times do I have to explain myself? I’m only trying to honor Jessica’s last wishes by finding somewhere to donate the necklace in her memory.”
“We are totally solving this murder.”
“Did you not read the part where she was shot to death! And the police have no fricking idea what happened?”
Melanie shrugged as if she knew people who were shot to death all the time. “We’ll be fine.”
“We? We are not doing anything. I’m the one who is doing this. We are not doing anything.”
“Fine. Fine. So, Ms. Patterson, what are you going to do next, hmm?” She raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her chair.
“I’m not sure.” Terri tapped her fingers on the table. There was a long pause before she suddenly sat up straight. “Where did the obit say donations were to be sent?”
Melissa pulled the obit up on her tablet. “Westside Soup Kitchen.”
“That’s it!” She snapped her fingers. “I’ve volunteered at that soup kitchen several times. I’ll just go check it out. See if they are a good candidate for receiving the necklace.”
“You volunteered at the same soup kitchen as Jessica? Maybe you met her and don’t remember?”
“No.” Terri shook her head. “I saw a picture of her at the Collins’ house. There’s no way I would have forgotten meeting her.”
“Maybe some of the other volunteers or even the homeless people will remember Jessica. You could ask them about her.”
“Stop trying to solve the murder!”
Melanie readily agreed she wouldn’t get involved in investigating the murder, but Terri knew better than to believe her.
About the Author
I grew up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom's Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn't flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out being a B&B owner wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
Finders, Not Keepers is my thirteenth book.
Contact Links
Purchase Links
1 Comment
Dark Fantasy
Date Published: July 1, 2018
Publisher: Lulu Publishing
A grim, sword & sorcery tale with monsters, magic, religion, and war.
This is how the world ends:
The innocent kill. Those killers lead. That is the nature of war, which ravages the province of Evigönda.
For a breath, there is peace, but the gods' demands pull at thestrings. Amos is a mystic who guards Bo, a seer who sacrificed herphysical sight to see spirits. Together, they must use her judgment toharvest souls for the Reaping, a sacred mission and necessary evil tomaintain the safety of their homeland.
Every move they make throws the world into further chaos, and when a scarred veteran makes it his mission to stop the Reaping so he can save his own struggling nation, the body count rises.
Shady allies and passionate enemies challenge the morals of piety and righteousness in this gripping fantasy tale.
Unlike fantasy epics that bring all new races such as orcs, elves, and dwarves in the style of Tolkien, or Paolini's Inheritance Cycle, The Reaping is dark fantasy that brings as much diversity from its all-human cast. From the Ashborn--the technologically-savvy steampunk mountain rangers of Borensati--to the Templars, disciplined, systematic warrior women who harvest the powers of the Sun and the earth to turn their weapons into medieval lightsabers, the cast of The Reaping pulls readers into a warbound, thought-provoking fantasy adventure.
Excerpt
“Don’t open your eyes,” Harken coughed. “Play dead. Lie there. Please.”
Lancaster couldn’t obey. He opened his eyes and stared as Harken struggled to his feet. He barely recognized his brother: blood poured from his shoulder, where a large bolt had found its mark. A blow Harken had taken to the face left him with a shattered cheek, and blood matted his hair. Stumbling, Harken sank to his knees next to Lancaster.
Lancaster tried to hide, but his own injuries restricted him. His left arm was bent in a way it shouldn’t be. His shattered knee throbbed, and blood trickled from his numb right wrist. He couldn’t move at all, especially when Harken heaved the corpse of their fallen fellow Nazarian onto him.
Footfalls approached, and as shadows flickered, Harken reached for his broken lance. He propped himself up on it and peered into the faces of the approaching figures.
“Commander, another survivor. This one has enough strength to stand,” a Seladorian woman announced, sword drawn. She pointed her blade at Harken’s throat.
Harken didn’t budge.
Another woman approached. Blood leaked down into Lancaster’s eyes, but he could see her legs. Padded black cloth covered her lower body—a far cry from the heavy metal armor most Seladorian warriors wore.
“You…” Harken started. “You’re not with the Templars. You must be the Hand.”
“That is correct, young man. While the Templars meet danger where danger presents itself, the Sisters of the Hand strike danger where it is vulnerable, and I—the Hand of the Goddess—have found the weakest link in Nazarelle’s armor.” Her voice was honeyed, not the tone one would expect from a vicious killer.
Harken coughed, blood seeping from his mouth. “Ambush from the mountains… smart.”
“If you knew anything of battlefield tactics, you would have seen this coming,” the Hand retorted.
Harken shook his head. “I’m just a soldier with a team of trainees. We weren’t meant for this. We shouldn’t die like this.”
“So it is mercy you want?” The Hand circled Harken for a moment, prodding the body that covered Lancaster with her foot.
Lancaster held his breath, eyes squeezed shut as his heart raced.
“I never asked for this. We’re just conscripts,” Harken pleaded.
“And yet… this is a battle your king chose. Your army attacked ours, and because of this, two thousand of my sisters have fallen in the past centenox. I would spare you no mercy, nor would I spare you any pity, because they all would still live”—the Hand grabbed Harken by his throat—“if not for the greed of your king.”
Harken dropped the lance as he pulled against her tight grip, but his wounds were too great. He didn’t have the strength to break free.
Eyes still closed, Lancaster listened to his brother die. As his body hit the ground with a loud thud, the door opened.
“It’s time.”
About the Author
Dexter Morgenstern is a Southern-born Seattle author and model. Homeschooled after a diagnosis of mild Asperger's, he learned to play to his strengths as an energetic, creative artist. He began writing at the age of fifteen, and published his first novel two years later. Outside of art, Dexter spends his time gaming, studying, and socializing with other ambitious minds. As an army brat, he attained a pragmatic sense of discipline that he uses to balance his artistic endeavors with his academic ones. Dexter's ultimate goal is to contribute to the subjugation of humanity by artificial intelligence.
Contact Links
Purchase Links
Paralucidity
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble -- Are you a book blogger?
GIVEAWAY!
COVER REVEAL
Casstiel
By Sheri-Lynn Marean
A Dragonkind - 52 Realms Novel
Publish Date: August 30, 2018
Preorder Links:
Amazon : Barnes & Noble : Google Play : KOBO : iTunes
As a bonded dragon shifter, Casstiel should have joined his soul mate in the afterlife when she was murdered. He did not. Fate changed the rules and tethered him to another female—a druid witch—the enemy.
For ten long years Casstiel lives in a haze of fury as he searches for the source of the hated connection. Only when they finally cross paths, he’s faced with a horrifying truth and finds himself protective and fiercely attracted to her. Even worse, she makes him question what it is he really wants.
Half human and half Fire-born, Ashara has never soared the skies or shifted into her dragon. Instead, she’s been held captive as a breeder for the Ilyium, heartbreaking more each time they take a child from her. Her only solace has been a connection to another that’s always kept her sane and warm in a cold, harsh life. When Asahra’s suddenly freed and confronted with her source of comfort; a large, sexy male who scares the hell out of her and wants her to release him, she is at a loss. As her heart awakens to a love she never dreamed possible, Ashara struggles to find her place in this new life, unsure of her desires, until a shocking discovery changes everything and may not be what anyone wants.
You will love this heart-wrenching tale of loss and redemption, so grab some tissues because your soul will sing as all things lead to love.
Excerpt:
I’m dying, yet I live without you. Casstiel directed the thought up to his mate in heaven, then closed his eyes. The thunder eased up and the snapping and sizzling bolts of lightning slowly died out. His power faded and his head fell into the blood-soaked dirt. He lay there and let his body go lax. A rancid, charred stench surrounded him as ash slowly fell to the ground like grey flakes of snow, only nastier. It was done. He should feel better, but never did. That angry pit—the bottomless black void inside him, continued to stretch for miles, yawning, craving more.
He sought oblivion, but was never quite able to reach it, no matter how he tried, or what he did, and today wasn’t any different. Bit by bit, his body came out of the comatose state he sought, and awareness grew, until he could feel each and every stinking cut and wound. They covered him, and he didn’t care. They’d heal, and the pain was good.
Maya, why did you leave me behind? The question reverberated quietly through his mind, just as it had millions of times over the last eight years since his soul mate’s death. Though he hadn’t always been silent in his quest for an answer. The agony of loss so long ago, yet so fresh, had moisture prickling the backs of his eyes. Then a noise snapped them open. Shit, he was found once again.
“Damn Cass, you’ve got to stop this, it’s killing you.” Zales crouched beside him.
“I fucking wish,” Cass groaned and rubbed at his face. He sat up and attempted to stand.
Zales put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Wait, at least let me remove the blade embedded in your side first.”
Preorder Links:
Amazon : Barnes & Noble : Google Play : KOBO : iTunes
Amazon : Barnes & Noble : Kobo
Sheri-Lynn Marean, Author of Dracones Awakening, the first book in the Dracones series, resides in western Canada with her husband, three kids, one dog, one cat, and two fish. Sheri did not grow up thinking she would one day be an author. Instead, she grew up riding and working with racehorses, drawing and selling her animal artwork, and of course reading.
Sheri fell in love with reading at age twelve when she read The Black Stallion series by Walter Farley. She has not stopped reading. With a wide variety of reading interests, Sheri's passion presently is the paranormal romance genre.
One day, after reading an unsatisfying book, she decided she would write her own book, with her own characters, doing what she wanted them to do. She began to type and the characters came to life in her head. She has never looked back.
Connect with Sheri-Lynn
Contemporary Fiction
Date Published: December 1, 2014
Publisher: Pacific Books
If one person can make a difference, just think what three can do.
Clint Westerly was a success until a fateful choice he makes tears his world all apart. Tanya Wilshire is broke but hell-bent on committing to her mother's final deathbed request. 84-year-old Seamus Harrington needs to right an ancient wrong before time runs out.
Filled with grit and determination, these three people with three different problems, an unlikely trio of unexpected allies, converge in a small Irish town to form a Triangle of Hope against all odds. Together they take a courageous stand that will forever change their world and that around them.
Praise
If you love feel-good reads with happy endings, then TRIANGLE OF HOPE is for you. "If an author can make you cry for his characters then want to hug them close and then want to do an Irish Jig with them to celebrate overcoming that much pain then you know you have read a book that will stay with you forever."- Wanda Hartzenberg, Wanda's Amazing Amazon Reviewers
It is a "fantastic read that will pull at your heart." - Lauren Alumbaugh, Goodreads librarian
SEMIFINALIST FOR THE 2015 KINDLE BOOK AWARD IN LITERARY FICTION
About the Author
Michael Meyer is the author of mysteries, thrillers, humorous fiction, and non-fiction: Love and romance, laughter and tears, thrills and fears.
As a recent retiree from a forty-year career as a professor of writing, he now lives in Southern California wine country with his wife, Kitty, and their two adorable rescue cats.
Contact Links
Purchase Link
New Adult Paranormal Romance
Date Published: 4/20/2018
Publisher: FyreSyde Publishing
Lonely. That's how it felt when Damien Pierce returned to Big Timber, Montana. It had been his childhood home until the day he was hit by a speeding car only to learn he wasn't badly hurt. The experience landed him the label of the town freakshow.
Following the death of his foster mom, Damien soon disconnected from the world around him. That was at least, until he met her. She looked human but something about made her appear otherworldly to him. He knew he shouldn't but he wanted her. He would do anything to get to know her. To have her.
Jillian Styles was immortal. Cursed by a dark god never to find rest. A shifter capable of taking the form of a beautiful wolf. She had searched for her lover's reincarnated soul for centuries only to find he was nowhere to be found. When she meets Damien, her world is turned upside down. She falls in love with him instantly and begins to pursue him.
However, Damien soon learns the darker part of Jill's world. He finds himself on the hit list of the same vampire Lord responsible for killing Jill's lover and reigniting the flames of an old war. His daughter desires Damien and vows to have him at any cost.
With the help of Alexander Kain, the mysterious wolf shifting soldier, Damien will learn what he thought he knew was only tip of the paranormal iceberg. He soon finds himself in the eyes of a vindictive and rage-filled dark god.
If you like hot lycanthrope guys, overly possessive vampire chicks, vindictive gods, strong female leads and some hot sex scenes, this book is for you.
About the Author
FyreSyde Publishing owner and founder Blaise Ramsay started out her creative career in the conceptual art and design industry. For fifteen years she spent her time crafting characters and world for others. Recently she shifted her attention to the world of literature where she writes mostly paranormal romance. Her debut title, Blessing of Luna is the first of four books in the Wolfgods series. A portion of the proceeds of her book sales go to help charities. When Blaise isn't busy working with sexy wolf boys, she can be found reviewing books for fellow authors, working for a few tour companies, holding interviews and offering guest posts. A professional book blogger, mom, wife and full blood Texan, Blaise loves nothing more than helping others, meeting new people and coaching folks in Scrivener. If you would like to get in touch with Blaise, the best way to contact her would be via email at [email protected]. She loves to hear from people and get questions from her readers.
Contact Links
Purchase Links
Thriller
Date Published: Jan. 1, 2016
A mysterious killer who calls himself The Artist is assassinating wealthy lawyers in San Francisco. When war veteran Jake Wolfe accidentally takes his picture during a murder, The Artist adds Jake to his kill list and he becomes a target in a deadly game of cat and mouse that only one of them can survive. How far would you go to protect your loved ones from a killer? Jake wants to leave his top secret, violent past life behind him. But the reluctant, flawed hero can't ignore his duty and his personal moral compass.
About the author:
Mark Nolan is the author of Dead Lawyers Don't Lie, and the sequel,Vigilante Assassin. Right now he's busy writing Jake Wolfe Book 3. He has raised two great kids and one very smart retriever dog. Mark also tries to make time every day to answer emails from readers. You can reach him and subscribe to his newsletter at marknolan.com.
Contact Links
Purchase Link
The Metis Files, Book 3
Urban Fantasy
Release Date: July 24, 2018
Publisher: Red Adept Publishing
Millennia ago, beings we call angels were tasked with watching over humankind in its infancy. Rather than protect humans, these Watchers decided to subjugate them instead, beginning a rebellion that would rock both Heaven and Earth. Defeated, the most powerful of the Watchers were imprisoned for eternity, while the weaker ones were condemned to live out their existence on Earth, relegated to the shadows that now occupy human myths and legends.
Until one of the Watchers escapes.
Immortal protector of humanity and one-time hero of the Trojan War, Diomedes—better known as Steve Dore these days—is horrified to discover that what human authorities think is a mentally unstable cannibalistic murderer is actually a gateway to something ancient and apocalyptic. Racing against a cosmic timetable, Diomedes is drawn into a dark and sinister underworld in a desperate attempt to stop another uprising.
But stopping this enemy may cost him far more than his life. Some grudges never die.
Other Books In The Metis Files Series:
The Metis Files, Book 1
Publisher: Red Adept Publishing
Release Date: June 2015
Eternal life. Eternal battle.
Steve—Diomedes Tydides to his Trojan War buddies—just had a bad day on his charter fishing boat in San Diego, but when the goddess Athena calls on her faithful warrior for another secret mission, he’s ready. The bomb that exploded inside the Metropolitan Museum of Art isn’t the crime American authorities think it is. Someone also stole the Cup of Jamshid, and Diomedes knows its fortune-telling abilities won’t be used for anything benign.
Though Diomedes recovers the Cup from a determined shaman holed up beneath Central Park, when he finds his allies slain and the Cup taken once more, he knows he’s up against a truly powerful enemy. Over a millennium has passed since Diomedes last contended with Medea of Colchis, deranged wife of Jason the Argonaut, but neither her madness nor her devotion to Hecate, goddess of witchcraft, has waned, and she intends to use the Cup of Jamshid to release across the world a dark brand of chaos unseen in human history.
Immortal since the Trojan War, Diomedes must once again fight for mortals he understands less and less, against a divine evil he may never truly defeat.
The Metis Files, Book 2
Publisher: Red Adept Publishing
Release Date: February 2017
The hunter becomes the hunted.
Framed for the murder of a high ranking member of the Unseelie Court of Fae, Steve Dore–also known as Diomedes, Guardian and protector of mankind–goes on the run. He’s determined to uncover the real culprit and clear his name.
But the assassination may be the beginning of a more sinister plot that involves not just the Fae and Humankind, but all the races of the world. And what if the real assassin is a boogeyman even the Fae don't believe is real?
About the Author
Brian S. Leon is truly a jack of all trades and a master of none. He writes just to do something with all the useless degrees and skills he's accumulated over the years. Most of them have no practical application in civilized society, anyway. His interests include mythology and fishing, in pursuit of which he has explored jungles and museums, oceans and seas all over the world.
His credentials include an undergraduate degree from the University of Miami and a master's degree from San Diego State University, plus extensive postgraduate work in evolutionary biology at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, where he studied animals most people aren't even aware exist and theories no one really cares about anyway.
Over his varied career, Brian's articles have been published in academic journals and popular magazines that most normal people would never read. They can be found in The American Society of Primatologists, the American Journal of Physical Anthropology, Proceedings of the American Association of Zoos and Aquariums and the like.
His more mainstream work came as an editor for Marlin and FlyFishing in Salt Waters magazines, where he published articles about fishing and fishing techniques around the world. He won a Charlie Award in 2004 from the Florida Magazine Association for Best Editorial, and several of his photographs have appeared on a number of magazine covers--almost an achievement of note, if they weren't all fishing magazines.
Always a picky reader, Mr. Leon enjoys stories by classical masters like Homer and Jules Verne as well as modern writers like J.R.R. Tolkien, David Morrell and Jim Butcher. These books, in combination with an inordinate amount of free time, inspired him to come up with tales of his own.
Brian currently resides in San Diego, California.
Contact Links
Purchase Links
Contemporary/Upmarket/Women’s Fiction
Date Published: September 2017
Vi Masters wonders…can you come home again? More, she wonders why anyone would want to. She fled upright, backwater Freedom, Iowa at seventeen and hoped never to return. But this time, she can’t stand up against the pleas of the aunt who raised her. It’s one weekend. How bad can three days be?
Three measly days in a wonderful eighteen-year marriage – that’s what Vi’s stepmother hopes. But what if Ben discovers what Tammy knew about why his daughter ran away – something he seems determined to finally find out? She can’t be sure Ben would forgive her, and that’s got Tammy scared to her bones.
One day in and Vi has to face how Aunt Sadie is failing, Caregiving will surely wreak havoc on Vi’s hard-won career, but how can she not? At least she might be able to turn the party Sadie’s planned into a night even Alzheimer’s won’t let Sadie forget.
But that’s before Vi finds out Nate Barlow has moved back to town. Now after all she’s already survived, Vi must dig deep for courage. Nate will never be able to accept Vi’s past. Will he? Who knew hope would be so scary?
Excerpt
Chapter 12
Nate
I figured I’d chat with Victoria at Sadie’s shindig Saturday and leave it at that. So it caught me off guard when she showed up for a Pinewood breakfast Friday. Makes sense, I thought. Sadie wanted to show her off. Not because she was famous, but because she doted on Victoria, always had.
So why was I surprised? And worse, why did it feel like a punch in the gut?
Chill, I thought as my ears went hot. No biggie. I had famous clients. Got tongue-tied with the first few, but as my dealer says, they all put their underwear on one leg at a time. But picturing Vi Masters in underwear didn’t help at all.
It felt like seventh grade. I wasn’t prepared then either. The guys had ragged on me something fierce – those days when all girls had cooties – which meant I stopped hanging with her a few years before. So when she walked into school that fall, I hardly knew her. When did she get so tall and willowy? With these subtle curves that set my imagination reeling? Why hadn’t I ever noticed her eyes were like the river at sunset?
From then on, she was Victoria, not Vicky, not Vee, like I called her when we were kids. Sexy, sultry, worthy-of-worship Victoria. And from then on, my damn ears and tongue were an adolescent nightmare whenever I came within ten feet of her. Smooth, that’s what I was.
Find your smooth now Slick, I thought as she moved toward my end of the counter.
I had more than a few minutes to get myself under control. Every last customer – Dick the retired trucker, George the retired math teacher, Mrs. Briggs and about a dozen more – wanted to shake her hand and have a word.
Working the room, I thought. Like a gallery opening. Coffee instead of wine.
I watched her smile and chat her way through the crowd. A pat on the arm here, a question there, a compliment on Miss Harriet Blue’s tacky old sweater, one I remembered from piano lessons. Miss Harriet puffed right up. She’ll likely go to her grave in that sweater now.
Mrs. Briggs got most of Victoria’s time. No surprise there. Even before we could read, the library was her favorite haunt. Worked there senior year – when she wasn’t bussing tables here at the Pinewood. So it was my haunt too.
That year I finally started acting human around her. Made conversation, joked around. Took till prom before I got the nerve to ask her out. She about knocked me flat when she said, “We’ll have a better time on prom night, don’t you think, if we go to a movie or something the night before?”
Long time ago. I jerked back to the present as Sadie tugged Victoria to the counter.
“Connie, just look at my Vicky.” She giggled as only Sadie can. “Vi, I mean. Oh, I’ll never get used to it.” Sadie turned from Victoria to Ma, “Doesn’t she look wonderful? I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to see my baby again!”
Up close, seventh grade memories didn’t hold a candle to this gorgeous creature.
“Connie, it’s so good to see you,” she said. “The Pinewood wouldn’t be the same without you. And you look better than ever.” Actress or no, she sounded like she meant it.
Victoria reached out to squeeze Ma’s shoulder – a simple greeting between old friends – but Ma pulled back, slammed the coffee pot down on the counter, and said, “Victoria Johansen – Vi Masters – whatever you call yourself – I always did like you. But I have a mammoth-sized bone to pick with you!”
Obviously not the greeting Ms. Hollywood expected. A calm veneer slid over her face fast as a lick, but like most painters, I notice things. Her hand dropped to the strap of her handbag, white fingers gripped tight. No wonder. Ma can be a scary lady.
“Do you have any idea what you put my boy through when you ran off?”
I tried to interrupt. “Ma. Let it be.”
She gave me the eye. “I will not. She ought to know what it was like for you to get hauled down to the police station. As if you knew where the silly girl went.” Ma wheeled back to Victoria. “And your father! Son of a bitch hit my boy! Blackened his eye. Worse, he made my Nate feel like a criminal, like he’d hurt you, or drove you away when anybody – anybody with a brain not up his butt – could see the only bad thing Nate ever did was fall for you.”
So much for calm veneer. Victoria’s face went white beneath her California tan, and I respected the maker of that handbag strap. She swallowed hard. Her eyes cut to me for the first time, then back to Ma. She opened her mouth, but it was clear she didn’t know what to say, where to begin.
Ma, on the other hand, still had plenty to say. Or would have, except I interrupted again.
“Ma. She didn’t know. Look at her face. How could she know? Let it be.”
“Well she ought to know.” Ma wasn’t done, but she was running down. Ma’s like that. The woman has a mighty temper. But when she’s said her piece, it’s done. Usually. “You left a mess for other people to clean up, missy, and you ought to know it!” Then, apparently satisfied she’d said what she needed to say, Ma picked up the coffee pot with her right hand, swung her left around for a mug, and said. “Now. How do you take your coffee?”
Victoria sank onto a stool, looked at Ma, at me. “Connie. Nate. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I…” She swallowed hard again. “I didn’t know. Didn’t think… Oh God. I wish… I’m just so sorry.”
I decided to let her off the hook. “Long time ago. We survived. And so did you, I’m glad to see.”
“Nate. Nate Barlow.” Like she saw me for the first time. “You’re still here. You look…”
I grinned. “Yeah. I know. Like an aging hippy. I get that all the time.” I tugged on my ponytail. “You wouldn’t believe the grief I get from the Freedom Regulars.”
She smiled – less assured, less sparkling than the Hollywood smile she’d dished out on her way down the counter. Softer. A little rueful. A lot like the night I kissed her. “I’ll just bet. Didn’t we always say that the Freedom Regulars would never change? But that’s not what I was going to say. You look good. That’s what I was going to say. Good.”
“Ah, hell. I can’t do it.”
“Can’t do what?”
“Can’t stay mad at you.”
Her smile faded. “Oh Nate. I am sorry. So sorry. I never thought Ben would come after you. Hit you? Oh Nate.”
I waved her off. “No biggie. It wasn’t my first black eye. Or my last for that matter. Can’t pin Ben’s actions on you. Wouldn’t be mad at you for that. If I could.”
The smile was nearly back. “Okay. I’ll bite. Why would you be mad at me? If you could?”
I picked up my coffee. Took a long swallow. Milked the moment. “The prom. You stood me up. For the prom.”
I said it lightly. Like it didn’t matter. Not anymore. Back then? Stood up on prom night? Suspected of something awful. Not the best night of my life.
Now trumps then. I expected a snappy comeback like she zings on TV, but she seemed as much at a loss for words as during Ma’s rant. An odd cast shaded her eyes. Almost like…sorrow. I cut her a break.
“Even so, can’t seem to stay mad at you.”
Funny how the relief on her face made me feel easier too.
“I’m glad,” she said.
Watch yourself pal.
Ma came back with the coffee pot. And a smile. She can’t stay mad either. Just don’t get between her and her cub. As if you could.
“More coffee, you two? Crayons, coloring books? Legos?”
Victoria’s laugh came out low and husky. “Just like when we were kids, Connie? In the back booth? Waiting for you and Sadie to close up? That’s a good memory.”
“For me too,” Ma said. “For half the town, I’ll wager. You two were good for business. Got folks to dig deeper in their pockets.”
“Good old Pinewood.” Victoria looked around the diner. “So much the same. But different too. Brighter than I remember. And those wonderful drawings! Those are new.” She gestured to the framed caricatures that lined the walls. “The Freedom Regulars!” She grinned.
“Those are Nate’s. He’s a very successful artist, you know. He’s had shows in New York, London, all over.”
“Ma. Stop bragging.” My damn ears went hot again.
“Nate! Really? These are yours?”
I nodded.
“They’re wonderful! So fun! So…real.”
Funny. That’s what I was going for. To poke fun – gently – at folks, and still show I like them. Each one has hopes and dreams and sorrows – all important, all real.
“Nate did well up at Ames, even studied in Paris.” Ma came around the counter to stand behind me, hands on my shoulders. A united front. I let Victoria off the hook, but Ma wasn’t quite done with her. “He was gone a long time. I thought maybe he’d stay in New York City, he did so well there. I’m sure glad to have him home though.”
Victoria got the message. “Connie. I really am sorry for…what happened after I left. I wouldn’t have brought on trouble for you or Nate. Not if I could help it.”
“And you couldn’t help it then?”
Victoria studied the inside of her coffee mug.
Ma persisted. “So you’re not telling why you put us through that?”
“Ma. Give the girl a break.”
“No harm asking, is there?”
But there was. I could see it in Victoria’s eyes.
“No.” She said it quietly, dropped her eyes, then raised and leveled them at Ma first, then me. “I had…reasons. Good reasons. Private reasons.”
I know Ma. She wasn’t satisfied. If she chose, Ma could wear you down till you’d confess crimes you never committed. But this time, she only gave Victoria the eye. And when that didn’t produce answers, Ma nodded, and said, “All right then. We’ll leave it at that.”
“Guess she can’t stay mad at you either,” I said.
“I hope that’s true.” She paused. “Friends?”
“Friends,” I said.
Ma nodded. “Friends.”
“Just like that?” Her voice was light but there was effort behind it. The handbag strap wasn’t out of danger yet.
Ma and I glanced at each other and shrugged.
“Just like that,” I said.
“Once a friend, always a friend,” Ma said.
“Thank you.” She blinked, seemed about to say something, but gave her head a tiny shake. She gave us both a bright smile – still sincere, but somehow not quite so personal. Like she pulled on a cape of Hollywood bravado. She glanced over to where Sadie was in full chat with Miss Harriet Blue and said, “I hope maybe you can help me with something.”
What now?
Victoria leaned toward Ma. “Connie. You’ve known Sadie a long time. You see her as much as anybody. How’s she doing?”
“Well… Now honey, you know your aunt is an old friend. A good friend.”
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
“Well…”
“What Ma’s trying not to say is that Sadie never was the sharpest crayon in the box.”
Victoria smiled. A sad smile this time and a nod. “Oh, I know. She’s a dear, sweet woman, and I love her. But she’s always been a little…dizzy. What I want to know is…well, is she getting dizzier?”
I was surprised to see Ma’s eyes fill. She grabbed a napkin, turned toward the wall, dabbed. “Damn, damn, damn.”
“Ma? You okay?” Nobody gets between the cub and his mama either.
I saw her shoulders square like they do before she tackles any hard thing like pull a splinter from my finger or face down Ben Johansen. She nodded. “She’s slipping. Not a lot. Not enough so most people notice. But she gets confused. More now. Carleen and I, we’ve been picking up the slack.” She gave a little grin. “Not exactly new. More this last year.”
Victoria nodded and studied her coffee again. And then, damned if her shoulders didn’t square up just like Ma’s. She looked up. “I’m not surprised. Afraid and sad and…royally pissed off. But not surprised.” She paused. “How long can you keep covering for her, Connie?”
“As long as she’s able to get here. To stand upright, to walk. As long as she stays…docile and will follow directions. If it gets to the point when she fights us, well… Then it won’t be good for her to be here. For her – or for us. Till then…” There went the shoulders again. “We’ve got her back.” This was no off-the-cuff response. Ma’d given it considerable thought.
Victoria nodded. “Thank you. I needed to know.” She looked my way. “Nate?”
“Can’t say I’ve noticed much. Not job-related. But…” I didn’t want to say any more than Ma had. “She’s not as careful with her hair as she used to be.”
“Her hair?” I caught the tone. The surprise. And the speculation. Not the first time.
“No, I’m not gay,” I said. “I’m a painter. I notice things.”
Ma looked at Victoria. “I raised a boy who notices a woman’s hair. I’m so proud.”
She is. I know it and she knows I know it. Won’t stop her pulling my chain though. The two of them laughed – till they had to grab and dab. Which was fun to see.
Sadie left Miss Harriet Blue and joined us at the counter with a look that said, “I know there was a joke here. I know I won’t get it. But I like to laugh too.” Classic Sadie. Out loud she said, “Vicky, honey, I’ve got my hair appointment.” Poor Sadie. “What’s so funny?”
Victoria smothered a laugh before she kissed Sadie’s cheek. “You go ahead. I’ll walk over to Lindy’s and meet you. Half an hour?”
“Okey dokey!” Sadie bounced toward the door.
As soon as she was out of sight, Victoria said, “I want to do something for her. Something that will matter later, when… Later. I could use your help. It’s about tomorrow night’s party.” Ma and I listened as Victoria told us what she wanted to cook up.
About the Author
Sally Crosiar lives in the Finger Lakes of New York State where she reads incessantly, enjoys time in and on the water, savors dark chocolate with red wine at every opportunity, and teaches about health and play for Empire State College. She is the author of Find the Love of Your Life, based on her own true story, My Uncle Dave, a children’s book with an adult message, and co-author with Dr. Sidney B. Simon of Love Builders: Tools to Build Every Relationship. Come Back is her debut novel.
Contact Links
Purchase Link
Book Title: On the Fault by Ronald J. Wichers Category: Adult Fiction, 474 pages Genre: Fictionalized biography Publisher: Outskirts Press Release date: March 13, 2018 Tour dates: July 2 to 27, 2018 Content Rating: PG-13 Book Description: “The heart of the planet is broken and the world is bleeding. We come out of the broken-hearted earth and try to mend it.” True grit mixes with true wit in this tragic, yet strangely triumphant tale of how much one man can lose. Following the Vietnam War, life proves bittersweet as Joe Hearns learns that sometimes finding happiness means changing the definition. For Joe Hearns the horrors of combat give way to those of daily life upon return to the States; a life burdened by an odd curse that seems to hover over the heads of anyone who fought in that otherwise magical land. He discovers that courage takes on a whole new meaning when coping with a world moving at a different pace – the pace of friendship and love. But, in the end, this proves the way out from under the curse of the war no one wanted. When it comes to this soldier’s story the word fearless comes to mind.
To follow the tour, please visit Ronald J. Wichers' page on iRead Book Tours.
Buy the Book:
Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Jet
Watch the book trailer:
Meet the Author: He later studied theology full time at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley California. He has published several short stories about the Vietnam war. The Fear of Being Eaten/A Biography of the Heart is his fifth novel. Connect with the author: Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Pinterest ~ Instagram
Enter the Giveaway!
Ends Aug 4, 2018
|
Archives
February 2023
|