Review for The Emerald Dagger

Book Review for: The Emerald Dagger
Written by: Barbara Hodges
Desert Breeze Publishing
ISBN: 978-161252-1374
Avail as: eBook only
4.5 Stars

Hodges pens a fantasy tale full of action, adventure, love, greed, and betrayal with "The Emerald Dagger." The timespace rift to the medieval land, Daradawn, opens only once for seven days every seven years. Kelsey Cafferty plans on going through the rift to visit her sister, Regan, who is married to the high mage, Peter. Will Kelsey stay in Daradawn or return to San Francisco?

With the rift to Daradawn opening, Kelsey plans to visit her sister and friends. Unfortunately, she's delayed in a traffic accident. When she finally goes to Daradawn, she has a visitor, Ben's daughter, Delilah.

There's a new threat to Daradawn's peace. Fairy folk are being mutilated into demon creatures by the evil mage, Dirkk. They ride wolf-like creatures and have killed of Zara's young dragnets. Zara, the mother dragon, wants revenge.

Regan and Kelsey are happy to see each other, but there is much intrigue going on at Queen Tessa's court, where Regan serves. Regan can talk to Zara, but is not successful in changing's Zara mind, bent on revenge.

Regan has her own challenges. She's recently given birth, but her son is kidnapped by the mage, Dirkk. Dirkk possesses the Emerald Dagger. It is a powerful instrument of dark magic. Regan's no slouch in the magic department - she possesses the Blue Flame which does her bidding. When Dirkk kidnaps her son, Daniel, Regan goes to save him, but will her actions be taken as a betrayal of Daradawn's peace? Daradawn's very existence is threatened and only Regan and Kelsey can protect it.

Hodges creates an ensemble fantasy story with likable characters filled with magic, dragons, basset hounds, and sword fights. Hodges imagination shines in the world of Daradawn and its easy to visualize the setting. The writing is brisk, keeping the reader engaged and anxious to know what happens next.

There's no one couple that drives the story, but what Hodges does well is create characters that quickly endear themselves to the reader. Regan and Kelsey have noble hearts, but their upbringing in San Francisco is obvious in their speech and mannerisms. Peter is brave, Rourk is heroic, and Dirkk is deliciously evil.

"The Emerald Dagger" is full of action and intrigue. The story is "sweet" for romance readers and is geared more for a mainstream fantasy audience. The story reads fine as a stand alone novel in the series, but it certainly has me eager to go back and read book one, "The Blue Flame." "The Emerald Dagger" will sweep the reader away to another time and place, keeping them turning the pages.

A Holiday Memory

Seasoning Greetings,

Thank you, Barbara, for inviting me to post on your sight. I thought I'd take you on a trip down memory lane with me. A trip to the past. To a season in the world I knew as a child.

The year is 1969.

Lyndon Johnson was president. The USA was at war with Vietnam. And my father, a tech-sergeant in the Air Force, had just received orders to Germany.

A third grader, naive on world issues and highly impressionable, I watched my parents make travel preparations with a keen interest. Our household goods; furniture, toys, bikes, housewares, and personal items were sorted and separated into two distinct piles, one for Germany and the other for storage.

At the time, I thought everything, except the suitcase we would take on the plane, was going into storage.

I thought my father was shipping the truck, our old Chevy, to Germany because it had a camper and that's what we had to live in. We were leaving civilization and going to some backwoods place, to the treacherous unknown, and would be living in a twelve-foot camper.

We were a family of seven! There were six women in all, in my family, and a mere camp potty between us. How would that work? I already had to fight for the bathroom. It would be awful.

Germany would be awful.

Worst of all, we were leaving in October and wouldn't get to spend Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's with family, like we usually did. We wouldn't get to see our cousins. I was certain it would be horrible.

Imagine my surprise when we got to Germany and found out it's very much like the USA. The people actually live in houses, and have indoor plumbing. Who'd have thought?

The first place the Air Force put us was in an eight-bedroom apartment, with a long hall that spanned the two apartments below. Each of us girls had our own rooms, and thanks to the hallway, a sock-skating rink.

How many kids could lay claim to that?

I still wanted to be home, in Colorado, for Christmas, but the longing was soothed by the fact that we had a cool place to live and of course, I wasn't alone. Germany wasn't too bad.

Come Christmas, that hallway, adorned by our imaginations, became a tree-lined drive, covered with sparkling snow. A blanket became our sleigh. We each took turns playing the horse, pulling each other through the snow as we ran down the hall. We rang bells and sang carols at the top of lungs. And we laughed.

Then the downstairs neighbors, the Scrooges, had to go and complain. Bah Humbug

Our sleigh was laid back on the bed -- folded and pleated in the best military fashion. Imagination faded back to a hallway with several doors. Even sock-skating didn't hold the fascination.

I figured that would be okay. I still had Christmas. We had a tree -- one of those new fandangled silver jobs that looked like slivers of aluminum wrap -- and there were going to be lots of presents. I know… my four sisters and I had found the hidden stash in a wardrobe in our parents' room.

I had already laid claim to a certain doll.

She was a beautiful doll. She stood about three feet tall with platinum blonde hair. She wore a red sweater with a cream pleated skirt. And she had boots and socks to match.

Unfortunately, my plans for the doll were thwarted.

I skipped out to the living room on Christmas morning, certain I would find that doll with my name-tag upon it. I picked it up, started to play with it, and realized the name on the tag wasn't mine. It was my sister’s

My parents had given my doll… to someone else.

I think I hated Germany after that. Not only had my doll been taken away; I couldn't even tell you what my Christmas gift was. Then we moved out of temporary quarters, into a smaller four-bedroom apartment. No more long hallway to skate on, no more room of my own, and my sister still had my doll.

I meandered through the year, wishing I could go home, to the United States to Colorado. I found cause to hate most everything, Germany, the country, Zweibrcken, the town. I even hated the base we lived on. We were an Air Force family on an Army base, which made life harder.

Of course telling the other kids that my father was there because their fathers didn't know what to do and my father needed to show them, didn't help. Nor did it help for me to tell the kids whose father’s were Air Force, who lived on the rival Air Force base just across town, that we weren't there because we were too good. I was an outcast in both branches of service. But I didn't care. I didn't want to be there.

The holidays made their yearly rounds, and I really didn't want a thing to do with them.

Then something happened to change my mind about what Christmas and life was all about. Something happened that peeled away a bit of my selfishness and innocence.

On the military bases, they began to pass out Prayer Bracelets. Engraved on these bracelets were the names of the men who were serving in Vietnam. Some were missing in action, some were prisoners. All were away from their families. We were supposed to pray for the men and women on the bracelets and their families.

A song came out about that time that touched me, as well. It was on a Wayne Newton album, and it told the story of a little six-year-old boy missing his daddy at Christmas, and the letter he sent to Santa. Following are the words:



Dear Santa,

I hope you can read my writing, 'cause I know it's not too good. But after all… that's why I go to school. Yeah, I've been good. Mommy wrote last year's letter. Now that I can write, Mom says I should write myself. I've got a big wish. Know what? You must have moved, 'cause last year I sent Mom’s letter to the North Pole. It's too cold, huh? I hope it's not as cold where you are now, Santa.

How’s Rudolph? I love the stuff you brought last year; the football… the train… the blocks and all. We had a lot of fun, but Mom said to quiet down, 'cause the train whistle made her head hurt.

Santa, this year I'm six, and I want something really big. So can you give my toys to Greggy? He's the kid down the road. You know… the one with the red hat? Cause you know, Santa, he don't get many. And Santa, if you can keep a secret and promise not to tell Mommy, I cried last night, Santa. Ya know why I cried? 'Cause what I want for Christmas… I want my Daddy.

Now I didn't much believe in Santa, but the words brought me to tears just the same. I knew several children in my school alone whose fathers wouldn't be home for Christmas, while mine, because of his security clearance, didn't have to go to Vietnam and was home.

Christmas suddenly took on new meaning. Gifts were okay, so was the tinsel, tree and lights, but to have my father, and mother there, to have family… even if my sister did get the present I wanted, was far more important.

Through the years life has succeeded in driving that point home.

Early in my marriage my husband was in the Navy, and I spent several Christmases with him gone on deployment, trying to have a Merry Christmas with my sons when their father couldn't be there. Thankfully, I could usually spend it with my own parents, which helped ease the pain.

This year I'm far from the third grader. My father has since died. 16 years have passed since his death, but there is not a year that goes by that I don=t long to see my father coming through the door, or have him here passing out the gifts or telling the Christmas story. At times. I actually wait with baited-breath, only to realize he's not coming.

Time passes, and life still brings more lessons.

Now after almost 30 years, my husband and I moved from Colorado to Arizona. Due to economic reasons we had to move to find a job. It has been a major life changing event. Not one I'm quite sure I like yet. Come Christmas it is doubtful there will be snow. Come Christmas my family probably won't be able to get together as we did for the last several years, as my youngest still lives in Colorado with two of my grandchildren. Yes, I have family here in Arizona with me, and I'm thankful.

I know I'm not the only one facing a hard Christmas, the world is in turmoil, our nation is nearly bankrupt and many families are fighting to stay above water financially, emotionally. There are still many serving in war zones. Still many families waiting for loved ones to return home. Still families who must face this Christmas after losing someone they love.

I pray everyone has a beautiful Christmas and they feel the true gift of the season, pray they feel the warmth of peace and feel Christ's love, encircling them and their families.

And there are still days, actually, most every time, when I play that song, the song about a young boy's letter to Santa. I cry. And I find myself drafting my own letter. Only mine would say...

Dear Jesus,

I hope you can read my writing, 'cause I know it's not too good. Please forgive me for dropping so many tears on the ink. Please forgive me for not coming to you even sooner and more faithfully.

Jesus, I love the blessings you sent last year. Help me not to forget all that you've done for me. Help me to remember that you keep my husband, children, grandchildren, family and myself in your hands. Help me to remember that my father is with you and I will see him in eternity. Remind me to pray for all those who are hurting this year and missing loved ones of their own.

And, Dear Jesus, help me to remember, when I feel like the world has gone crazy, when I become too selfish and involved in me, that Christmas is a time of giving. And giving doesn't always mean in monetary, it can be time and prayers. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for coming to earth as a baby so that you could offer yourself as a sacrifice. My sacrifice. Help me not to lose sight of the real meaning of Christmas.

Thank you, Jesus.



May you have a bright and glorious holiday season, filled with love and laughter. May the gathering of friends and family provide you with precious memories. May the new year overflow with blessings and the fulfillment of dreams. I pray this season, and those to come, are filled with hope and the peace that only comes from Christ.



Merry Christmas

Tina Pinson.


About Tina


After nearly 20 years, Tina Pinson moved from Grand Junction, Colorado and now resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband of 30+ years, Danny. Due to the economy they were forced to let Omega Avionics go. The Pinsons have three grown sons, a beautiful daughter-in-law and 5 grand children.
Gifted with a vivid imagination at a young age, Tina started writing in elementary school. (it was that or get in trouble for lying). She has chosen several creative outlets; writing poetry, songs, or stories.

Tina has completed the following novels. Winds Across the Rockies, To Carry her Cross, When Shadows Fall, Shadowed Dreams, To Catch a Shadow, A Shadowed Trail, This Shadowed Land, and The Shadow of Her Smile are serial about the civil war and the Oregon trail. Then Came Grace, a contemporary story about a future Sept 11 type tragedy. Trail of the Sandpiper-Betrayed, Trail of the Sandpiper-Rescued and Trail of the Sandpiper-Avenged, a WWII series about a missionary and spy.
Coming Soon Through Desert Breeze Publishing The first three books in the Civil War/ Oregon trail Saga, The Shadow Series.
When Shadows Fall, Shadowed Dreams, To Catch a Shadow.
Available now through Desert Breeze Publishing
In the Manor of the Ghost -- June 2010
Touched By Mercy -- December 2010
A short story can be found in Living By Faith through Obadiah Press.

Beyond writing, Tina enjoys building, gardening, singing, speaking and some biking. She and her husband hope to get out more into God’s country and do some camping. She continues to work on other stories, and hopes more will find a publishing home soon.

Website:

http://www.tinapinson.com/about.html

Guest Blogger Kurt Kamm

Malibu resident Kurt Kamm has used his access to Los Angeles County and Los Angeles City firefighters and his experience in several devastating local wildfires to write his novels. He has also attended classes at El Camino Fire Academy and training sessions in arson investigation and hazardous materials response.

One of the Malibu fires, the 60 mile-per-hour Santa Ana wind-driven Canyon Fire, burned to his front door and destroyed the homes of several neighbors. Mr. Kamm said the lessons he learned from L.A. County Fire Department while writing his books helped him save his home.
Kurt lives with his wife and three dogs. He was previously a financial executive and semi- professional bicycle racer. He was Chairman of the UCLA/Jonsson Comprehensive Cancer Center Foundation and is an avid supporter of the Wildland Firefighter Foundation.

From Kurt Kamm:

I have written three firefighter mystery novels, and have been privileged to participate in exercises, academies and training camps run by various fire agencies. I have also been to a number of fires and other emergency events, all of which have contributed to creating a sense of reality in my novels. One event, which I have not written about in any of my books, is my favorite story.


While working on my serial arson mystery, RED FLAG WARNING, I was invited to attend a weeklong CalFire training academy for arson investigation. The state takes arson very seriously, and fields a large team of firefighter-investigators who have law enforcement training as well.

During a two-day period, I rode around the central coast of California with one of the instructors. We were designated "suspect 1" and "suspect 2." The investigators pursued us in several vehicles and the objective was to catch us in the act of starting fires. During the day, we used bundles of red rags, which we tossed from our truck, to "ignite" fires. At night (the exercise went on until 10:00 PM) we used glowing green rings. Every 2-3 hours we stopped for debriefing.

On the second night, at the end of the exercise, we were being pursued down a country road. Coincidentally, we passed a CalFire station, and left a glowing green ring at the front door of the office. We thought it was hilarious that we had "set fire" to a fire station. We then escaped to a typical back road tavern.

Inside, the bar was filled with men wearing sleeveless shirts. Their arms, covered with tattoos, were the size of my legs. We ordered cokes (my instructor was on duty) which immediately attracted attention.

Caught up in the excitement of being chased around for two days by firemen/cops with guns, I was still in the role of "suspect #2." I asked the bartender, a very tough looking woman, whether there was a back exit to the bar. She replied yes, and asked why I wanted to know. To this day, I don't know why, but I said, "We've been out setting fires all day, and the police are after us. We may have to escape."

We were immediately surrounded by every man in the bar, and the bartender yelled, "Don't let them get away, I'm calling the Sheriff."

My instructor, fearing for his life, pulled out his badge, waved it in the air, and explained that we were involved in a "law enforcement exercise, and no crimes have been committed."

The crowd backed off a little, and he hustled me out of the bar, where we waited to be arrested by the CalFire men chasing us.

I promise this is a true story, and want to tell you that I am sparing you the tale of what happened to me in the basement of the Los Angeles County Morgue while I was researching CODE BLOOD.

Kurt Kamm/Malibu CA/November 2011
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Kurt Kamm's website:
 
http://kurtkamm.com/
 
Kurt's website has a gallery of fire photos. I've chosen four of them that spoke to me. They are outstanding!
 
 

In Remberance of 9-11-01

With the anniversary of September 11th a day away, I thought I would share an article I wrote right after that fateful event. May God bless all of those who protect us from the many evil inhabitants of this world.

What Was It Like When…?

by

Keith Bettinger

I enjoy studying history. I watch the history channel, read the tomes of Stephen Ambrose, and love to read historical novels. I am a baby boomer, a member of the generation that came to be when our heroes returned from World War II.

When I read about the attack on Pearl Harbor I wonder what went through the minds of the American public as they heard the news that the American Military had been attacked. I wondered what it was like to be suddenly pulled into a war. My mother can still tell me stories about rationing, food and gas coupons, and friends going off to war. Every community has a memorial to those friends and heroes who did not return.

The war of my generation was a long and protracted one. It too has many heroes that are now growing gray. It was not like World War II. It had been around for years, and slowly swallowed up the youth of the United States. Our veterans were not treated with the respect they deserved. The Viet Nam war did not answer for our generation the question, what was it like when Pearl Harbor was attacked.

Now we have our answer. On September 11, 2001, terrorists stole our aging innocence. On that day, America was plunged into a new war; probably different than any other it has ever fought. This time our military was not the only target. Symbols of American pride were destroyed. Along with the twin towers went thousands of civilians working in many different occupations, while they tried to secure the American dream. Stolen from us along with all those civilians are the heroes of the New York City Fire Department, the New York City Police Department the Port Authority Police Department and the military and civilian personnel at the Pentagon, who went into the burning buildings to rescue people while others were fleeing for their lives.

In the history of law enforcement and fire fighting, losses of these staggering proportions have never been seen before. The losses from this horrific event took more lives than those lost during the attack on Pearl Harbor.

Baby Boomers, who wanted to know what it was like when Pearl Harbor was attacked and America was plunged into war, now have their answer. The "other" generation can tell you where they were on December 7, 1941. Many generations can tell you where they were when they received the news that President John F. Kennedy was killed, and now we all will remember where we were on September 11, 2001. We now know what it was like when the United States was attacked and plunged into war. It has happened to us. May God Bless America!

Keith Bettinger

Secretary - Public Safety Writers Association

keithbett@cox. net

keithbettinger@ policewriter. com

Author of: Fighting Crime With "Some" Day and Lenny

Author of: End Of Watch

Winner of 16 awards for writing

Guest post by Wanda Snow Porter

Author Wanda Snow Porter


WandaSnowPorter.com

whimsicalpublications.com

Spurs for José, a young adult novel, will be released by Whimsical Publications on Nov. 1st.

An unforgettable journey based on true events, Spurs for José brims with action and excitement. It is a coming-of-age story, not just for one young Indian vaquero, but also for California as it becomes the thirty-first state of the United States.

In the fall of 1846, when José Rodriquez turns twelve, his papa says next spring he must help tame Rancho Grande’s wild colts. He knew this day would come. For on the Alta California rancho, being a vaquero and training horses was his family’s tradition. Vaqueros’ horsemanship and roping skills were legendary and their lives full of danger. Many vaqueros had been killed or crippled while riding the mustangs. Did he have enough courage to ride the wild ones and measure up to his papa’s expectations?

Worried, José decides only luck will help him be fearless enough to ride the wild colts, luck he will get from a pair silver spurs and chaps made from a brave bull’s hide. But he has no money. How can he buy silver spurs? Then the Mexican-American war starts. And a few days before Christmas, Colonel John C. Fremont’s battalion camps on Rancho Grande and everything changes.

Spurs for José excerpt:

Pedro sat beside José, opening his palms toward the fire to warm his cold hands. “I hear Tomas is making you chaps from the bullhide. He says the bullhide is lucky, but it is unlucky. The bull fell first, so he didn’t win. No, I wouldn’t want chaps made out of the hide of the loser. Those chaps will be cursed.” Pedro’s dark eyes glared at José.

He glared back at Pedro. “The bull was brave and his hide will have magic power. Tomas said the chaps will be lucky.”

“What would Tomas know about luck? Look at him. He is crippled. How do you think he got that way? He was cursed. That’s how, cursed and unlucky.” Pedro stood and spit in the fire.

José stood, too, clenching his fists. “Nobody asked you.”

Pedro pushed his face into Jose’s. Even though he was older, they were the same height. He grabbed José’s hair and jerked his head back. José struck out with his fist, punched Pedro’s jaw and knocked him backward onto the ground. Then he jumped on top of him, and they wrestled in the dirt.

“What is going on?” José’s papa asked as he and Uncle Miguel pulled the two boys apart, lifting them to their feet. “You two settle down. You need to work harder if you have energy to waste on fighting. Go get more wood for the fire. Right now, go!”

The boys glared at each other as they dusted themselves off and went together to collect wood. They didn’t speak as they carried armloads of wood back to where the men sat warming themselves. José was angry. Pedro had put doubt in mind. Was the bullhide really cursed?



Wanda’s Words About Writing

I never planned to be a writer, but when teaching horseback riding, I wanted to make a list of safety rules for my young students, but decided a story would be more fun for them to read and make it more likely they’d remember to be cautious around horses. That short story ended up in an anthology entitled, Along the Way: Our Unique Relationship With Horses. Published for the benefit of young dressage riders, the payment for my story was one copy of the book. When it arrived in the mail, I opened the package. What a thrill. My story was among those of famous authors like Charles De Kunffy and Jane Smiley. This hooked me on writing for young people and inspired me to write and illustrate the Burro Picture Books Series published and sold by the Dana Adobe Nipomo Amigos at danaadobe.org.

As a docent for Dana Adobe, I research California history to help school kids learn what life was like on a California rancho 150 years ago. My interest in history, experience as a riding teacher and horse trainer inspired me to write Spurs for José. After I finished writing about José’s adventures, it was strange. Though he is a fictional character, José became so real to me that I searched for a record of his death or grave site, without any success. Sadly, as with many Native Americans, if he had really existed, I mostly likely will never know it. But when I sit on the veranda next to Dana Adobe’s thick walls, built long ago by Chumash Indians, it’s easy to imagine his ghost lingering there. I believe that’s what motivated me to tell José’s story.
 

Getting it right for Date NIght.

I love a good excuse to put on a cute pair of heels, and date night is no exception! Like most others, I don’t have much of a budget for fashion, so I try to keep it affordable. It’s much easier than I thought, so I’ve provided some of my favorites! The great thing about this look is that it’s all separates, so you can mix and match all of these pieces to create multiple looks.


e.l.f. cosmetics. You can find this line at a number of stores, like Target, Meijer, Walgreens, and online. Products range from $1 to $6, and they’re of pretty good quality. About half of my makeup stash is e.l.f.!

Tiered black tank from reitmans.com. So pretty! This is a great piece to have, since it can be mixed and matched, dressed up or down. Pair this with some dark jeans for a date night, or some white Bermuda shorts for a summer day look.

This floral print scarf, $16, from affordablescarves.com may not look it, but it’s multi-functional! Tie it around your neck for a classic look, wear it as a shawl if it gets a bit chilly, or tie it as a headband or head wrap. Not sure how to tie your scarf? I found this website that has almost 40 different instructional videos- scarves.net.

One of the best parts of this outfit, there’s nothing like a good pair of black pumps! These Steve Madden’s are marked down to $45 from $90 on Nordstrom.com. Great deal!!

You might already have a favorite pair of boot cut jeans in your closet, but if not, these dark-wash boot cut jeans from Target might be your new fave! They’re only $24.99, so you can even grab a few pairs.

Rather than lug a big bag around on a date night, I like to keep it simple with a clutch. It has just enough room for the essentials and is easy to carry around. This cream colored bowtie clutch, from handbagheaven.com, is a little pricey, $50, but it is sure to be your go-to clutch for all events!



Author Bio

Maggie is a fashion writer for AffordableStyle.com. During the day, she creates celebrity-based looks for less. All other times, she enjoys experimenting with new recipes, reading, and listening to music.

Puppy Love

My New Adventure with Sully Mc Ferguson

New puppies are so adorable! They look cute when they sleep, they’re amazingly fluffy, and of course, there’s the puppy breath. What no one seems to talk about is the training part of having a puppy; the cleaning poop off the new carpet; finding torn up and eaten $80 shoes; the relentless barking at 3 a.m.; or having to constantly be policing them from consuming all small and inedible objects.

I say all this because I have a new puppy myself. His name is Sully. He is a mix of a shih tzu and a long haired dachshund. Sully is the cutest and funniest looking little thing ever. We got him free from a couple who had an accidental litter from their own shih tzu and dachshund. They were all sweet, but Sully really stuck out with his personality and pretty markings. After snuggling in my roommate’s arms for about 20 minutes, it was decided, this little guy was going to be the new member of our family. So, we brought him home that night.

Sully quickly became the heartthrob of the neighborhood! He demanded attention from everyone that passed by. And everyone was more than happy to give it to him. He was only two pounds when we got him, but he was able to stop people and animals more than 50 times his weight. He made our home a lot more fun with him running around and playing his vast amount of toys we bought him.

Then it happened… he started peeing and pooping all over the place. It wasn’t too bad because he was so small -- and so were his messes. But then the frequency of his little ‘messes’ started to become overwhelming. Sully didn’t help with the clean up either by biting onto the cleaning rag when we were scrubbing or he tries to hide his messes in unlikely places. Sully also started barking in the middle of the night for no reason, not to go to the bathroom, outside or anything. He was driving us nuts!

Slowly, he started learning different commands. Sully now knows sit, hold or stay, and thankfully, quiet but only sometimes. There is still a lot to learn, like going potty outside, but it’s all a work in progress. It’s a lot of pain but a lot of awesome at the same time. So, what is the moral of the Sully story? If you want something worthwhile it takes some crap to get there, literally.

Author’s Bio

Kristine writes for ReadingGlassesShopper.com during the day, and in her spare time, she watches TV religiously. In between episodes of her favorite shows Kristine loves to bake, write poetry,

and walk her new puppy.

kesser@oneclickventures.com





Sleepy Sully









Sully





Two Interviews in Mystericale E

 I do interviews for this free online mystery magazine.  The summer issue is now live.  I've interviewed mystery author Marilyn Meredith and suspense author Joan Hall Hovey.

Here is the link for you to take a look.

http://www.mystericale.com/index.php?issue=current_issue&body=cover

There are some great stories in this issue. Don't forget to check out the book reviews too.

Using a Life Coach to Help You Meet Your Goals, by guest blogger Mary Ward

Using a Life Coach to Help You Meet Your Goals

We all have dreams and goals we're working toward. But, sometimes, achieving those long-term goals can be more difficult than we thought. We may have real life obstacles, we may find that the steps to the goal were more complicated than we expected, or we may lose focus over a period of time. But, most of us are fully aware that meeting our goals are an important part of living a happy and productive life.

That's where a life coach comes in. Life coaches can give you the tools you need to stay focused, help you face obstacles and help you solve problems. Some of the specific areas where a life coach can help you with include:

                1.  Maintaining focus and a positive attitude – A good attitude and eyes on the prize are two  very   important aspects in goal achievement. But, over time, our enthusiasm and concentration in our efforts can wane. Working with a life coach can help you stay motivated and focused on achieving your goals.

               2.  Concrete Tools – Life coaches can help you solve problems in specific and detailed ways. When you're unsure of how to tackle a problem that is hindering your progress, a life coach can help you find the steps you need to take to overcome the problem.

              3.  Progress Tracking – Sometimes we can be very hard on ourselves. Even when we've made significant progress toward our goals, we may fail to see it. A life coach can help you track your progress so that you can stay motivated and so that you know that you're on track. When you've veered from the appropriate path, you'll catch yourself much more quickly if you're tracking progress.

              4.  Planning Ahead – Sometimes goals change or other adjustments must be made in our path. Life coaches can help us be prepared for the future and take steps to ensure that we have planned for its potential events. Working with a life coach can also help us to ensure that we're working toward the things we really desire, which helps us plan for the brightest future possible.

Whether your goals are focused in the area of education, career or personal growth, a life coach can help you develop those goals, plan for them and ultimately achieve them. Working with a life coach will help you ensure that your effort toward your goals is consistent and is in tune with your overall plans.

Many highly successful people owe their success, in part, to working with a life coach who has helped them stay focused in working toward the things they've planned to achieve. If you would like help from a life coach, or perhaps if you have an interest in pursuing life coaching jobs or a career in life coaching, connect with the online coaching network at http://www.freelancecoach.com/.

Mary Ward appreciates the benefits of working with a dedicated online coaching network, http://www.freelancecoach.com/ and enjoys spreading the word about life coaching and personal coaches.



Nancy Lynn Jarvis: Realtor Turned Serial Killer

Nancy Lynn Jarvis has been a Santa Cruz, California, Realtor for twenty years. She owns a real estate company with her husband, Craig.

After earning a BA in behavioral science from San Jose State University, she worked in the advertising department of the San Jose Mercury News. A move to Santa Cruz meant a new job as a librarian and later a stint as the business manager of Shakespeare/Santa Cruz.
Nancy's work history reflects her philosophy: people should try something radically different every few years. Writing is her newest adventure.
She invites you to take a peek into the real estate world through the stories that form the backdrop of her Regan McHenry mysteries. Details and ideas come from Nancy's own experiences.
If you're one of her clients or colleagues, read carefully - you may find characters in her books who seem familiar. You may know the people who inspired them - you may even see yourself in print.

Nancy's Guest post.

My husband and I owned a small real estate company which we wound down beginning in 2008 because it was costing us more to be in business than we were netting. Our plan was to declare ourselves retired and travel, but while we were fine for day to day expenses, our investments weren’t generating enough income to let us do what we planned, and we found ourselves stuck at home.


I had way too much time on my hands. I got bored. It was clear I needed a new career, so at age 60, I decided to start killing people.

Everyone who has earned a living as a Realtor says they could tell you stories. I took my twenty-plus years of real estate experiences, used them for background, and began writing a mystery with a Realtor protagonist. Ironically I get comments from people who tell me, while the murders are believable; they’re sure I made up the real estate parts of the books — are they ever wrong.

Writing my first book, “The Death Contingency” quite literally began as a time filling game, a mental exercise like playing Sudoku. I had a beginning and an ending in mind for the book and absolutely no idea how to connect the two. It took a great deal of fumbling and learning for both me as a writer and for Regan McHenry, the amateur sleuth protagonist, to solve the mystery. It was fun, though — more fun than anything I had ever done before — so much fun that I immediately started on a second book, “Backyard Bones.”

But writing, you’ll remember, was a game for me; I never intended to do anything with what I wrote. That changed when our friend Charlotte Bridges, a woman who always wanted to see her name in print, was diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor.

Possibly because my husband and I had a long history of being small business owners and weren’t daunted by the idea of doing so, we set up a micro publishing company, dedicated “The Death Contingency” to her and got a copy to her so she could have her wish fulfilled before she died. Our first run was 100 books, about ninety more than I thought we would ever need. The books sold out in a day and we ordered more.

My writing-as-a-game has become a book series: “The Widow’s Walk League,” the fourth book in the series has just been released. This newly discovered passion is something I will do as I age, in retirement, and as long as it's fun and I sell books.

Writing hasn't produced an income anything like being a Realtor in the good times and I don't expect this adventure will ever make us rich, but we are making money and I wake up every morning excited about what the day may bring. I've had adventures I would never have had otherwise and met people from all over the world I would never have known without promoting the books.

Promoting is something else I’ve discovered can be done largely for free. I've managed to get an article in Realtor Magazine which goes to every Realtor in the country, get a mention in Costco's Connection Magazine which goes to most Costco members, and get interviewed for CNN/Money which then made it to CNN.com and YahooFinance.com, all for free.

Social media such as Goodreads, LinkedIn, Library Thing, Eons , and Facebook have all been helpful. Regan McHenry Real Estate Mysteries have their own page on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/ReganMcHenryRealEstateMysteries?ref=ts

We still use print-on-demand so we never have storage issues and no wasted books (I’m a tree hugger who doesn’t want to cut down trees needlessly.) We've learned to take advantage of Amazon for book distribution and for e-books (which outsell tree books.) We let readers sample opening chapters at our website http://www.goodreadmysteries.com and sell books from there, too.

The actual writing of a book is a kick. So is doing psychological profiles of the characters and researching how to dispatch victims before I begin writing — I dare you to ask me about death by hypothermia, ligature strangulations, accidental mummification, Albanian mobster hits, and how to make a person bleed out in minutes from a stab wound.

Getting a story I want to tell on paper is entertaining, but so is cover designing, getting publicity, and talking at book signings. The fact that I enjoy speaking at book signings and on the radio is a real surprise to me because when I don’t have a book in my hand to promote, I’d rather die than open my mouth in public.

Several older writers have approached us about publishing their books. We just reserved the URL www.geezerwriters.com ; it might be fun to help them get started.

Sample from Ice by Barbara M Hodges and Randolph Tower

Chapter One

Sherice Solomon

Beyond the etched glass doors of the hotel’s lobby I watched Manhattan’s traffic inch by. I tapped my foot against the marbled floor, echoing the Hunger’s nip of impatience inside me.

“Soon, soon,” I promised.



"Ma'am, your cab's here."

The Hunger leapt at the doorman’s words. I stood, smoothed my satin tank top and made my way outside. A wave of blaring horns, car exhaust and sultry air surged over me, all the pleasures of New York City in August. The doorman held open the door to the cab. "Thank you,” I said as I pressed a bill into his hand.

"Where you go, Lady," the cabbie asked as he pulled down his meter flag.

"I'm new in town. Take me to the hottest jazz club around."

His gaze found mine in the rearview mirror. "That Beau’s in Queens."

"Then Queens it is."

"Very good Lady, but maybe 75 dollar. Nobody come back.”

"I'll cover it. Will $200.00 do?"

"Okay, very good. You got money?”

I opened my clutch purse, held up a $100.00 bill in each hand.

"Hot jazz comin’ up."

He shot through a yellow light, slowed for man in a cross walk and then rocketed by. "So, you new to Manhattan. Have you…?"

"Stop," I said. "There's another twenty for you if you don't say one more word."

With his eyes again on mine in the mirror, he grinned, showing ragged dentistry through his straggle of beard.

I settled back in the seat and watched the people. They hurried along lost in their petty concerns.

The Hunger grew more insistent with each passing second. The hunt would have to be swift tonight and I'd dressed for the occasion, short black skirt, satin tank top, no bra, and my favorite Christian Louboutin silver, sling-backs. A small black, leather clutch with money, fake I.D. and the two room keycards completed
my ensemble.

We passed beneath a street light and in the momentary brightness my fingernails glistened. I'd painted them special for tonight, Dead Red.

"What's your name?" I said.

He shook his head, refused to speak.

I laughed. "You may answer any questions I ask without losing your extra twenty."

"Dawud, David in American."

“Are you Arabic? My husband and I spent some time in Iraq. His name was David.”

The cabbie nodded. “Yes, I be here three years now.”

“I’ve been back in the states three years now myself. This is my first visit to Manhattan though. I don‘t know why I waited so long, it seems so perfect.”

“Yes. Yes. The city that never sleeps.” He eyes found mine in the mirror. “You like your hotel? My cousin, he…”

“I love my hotel. It has everything I need. I checked it out thoroughly on the Internet.”

“If you change…”

“I won’t. I never do. Now, no more talking please. I want to enjoy the view.”
People scurried along the crowded streets, eyes straight forward, most with cell phones pressed to their ears, concerned with their neat little worlds, not aware that any one of them could be my next kill. I looked away from the window. “How much further?"

The cabbie glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "We there, almost. You want I wait? You already pay for trip back."

"No, I'm meeting someone."

"But you not know you come here."

I smiled. "Oh, I am meeting someone; they just don’t know it yet. Now not another word, that last comment almost cost you your extra twenty."

We finished the ride in silence. He pulled to the curb. From a squat building‘s dim window, red neon blinked Beau's. A sign advertising, Smokin’ Hot, and showing three smiling men, almost blocked the narrow doorway. Before the cabbie could exit, I climbed out and handed him the money.

As I turned toward the jazz club's entrance he said. "Can be very bad in there. Be careful.”

“Thank you for your concern, David. But, I’ll be fine.” I smiled and walked away.

The Hunger twisted inside my stomach. Inside the doorway of the club, I stopped and let my eyes

adjust to the dim lights, and also to let everyone view me. The murmur of voices made my thighs quiver. There were as many women in the club as men. The dress code stretched from blue jeans and tennis shoes to silk shoulders draped with fur. My prey was among them. I felt it. I adjusted the scooped neckline of my
tank top so that it rode just above the pink of my nipples.

Cigarette smoke, perfume and sweat was a visible haze hovering over the room. On an upraised stage in the back, three men stood, smoking and drinking, obviously they were Smokin’ Hot. Must be break time.
There were a few empty tables, but I sashayed toward the bar. I loved bars, loved the way my skirt hiked up when I climbed upon the stool, loved the feel of the polished wood beneath my hand. This bar had a soft patina, like worn leather. Behind it, bottles of liquor lined the wall on both sides of a huge mirror. Mirrors were always a plus for I could scan the room without anyone being the wiser. I examined my reflection. I’d chosen the shoulder-skimming blonde wig tonight, with the ends that dipped downward, like fingers pointing to my cleavage. No jewelry. From my chin to my breasts you saw nothing but skin. My eyes were pale blue, translucent. I'd played the color up with blue eye shadow, black eye liner and mounds of mascara. My lips matched my fingernails, Dead Red.

Shifting my gaze to the crowd behind me I spotted interested appraisals by three men and two women. The bartender worked his way toward me. "What can I get you, miss?"

"Gin and tonic."

"I’m buying that for you.” The words came from behind me. I met his eyes in the mirror. He was one of the three I'd spotted. The man looked middle-aged. Carried a few extra pounds, but he had a full head of silver hair. His eyes were nice, the warm brown of cooking sherry.

"I don't think so," I said. "My mama always warned acceptin’ drinks from strangers is how a good girl becomes less than pure."

"Well, your mama sounds like one smart lady. The name's Bradley Williams.” He settled on the bar stool next to me.

I swiveled to face him, crossed my legs. A dangerous move with my short skirt, but I'd had some practice. It achieved the desired result. I watched his eyes widen. "Mister Williams, are you always so pushy?"

He smiled showing white, even teeth. "It works for me."

The bartender came back with my drink. I smiled, took it from him. "Yes, I can see it does."

The man dropped a ten dollar bill onto the bar.

"Oh, and Mister Williams, I'm a good tipper."

His smile lost some wattage, but then reappeared at full power. "Keep the change.”

The bartender nodded at me as he turned away.

"I didn't get your name," Bradley Williams said.

I sipped from the glass, looked at him over the rim. "Rita.”

The Blue Flame is available!

Desert Breeze has released The Blue Flame.  I've included the link to the page.

http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/StoreFront.bok

Now it is on to getting the second story in the Daradawn series, formated.

Hope everyone who celebrates is enjoying the holiday weekend.  Our weather here has at last warmed up.

In two weeks I am heading to the PSWA (Police Service Writers Association) conference in Las Vegas.  It is going to be plenty warm there. I plan to get off the plane, grab a taxi, get to the resort and not go out again , well maybe at night, until I get back in cab and head to the airport again.

This is the first year I have attended and I am so looking forward to it.

The young adult version of The Blue Flame.

Desert Breeze Publishing will release a new young adult version of the first book in my Daradawn series, The Blue Flame.

I've received my book cover and thought you would like to take a look.

Guest blogging with Lisabet Savai

I'm a guest today on Beyond Romance, Lisabet Savai's blog.

I've written about Randolph and I having to make a decision concerning the plotline in our newest work in progress, Meltdown, when it was pointed out we could be putting ourselves and those we care about in danger.

Below is the link.

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2011/05/when-is-it-smart-to-fear.html?showComment=1306592870340#c739735634294944339

Guest Blogging

I'm a a guest blogger today on Stephani Burkhart's, Romance Under the Moonlight, blog. I talk about the Port San Luis lighthouse which I had the joy of visiting last Christmas season.  I'd taken some photos of the lighthouse and the carolers that were there dressed in period costumes.  Below is the link for you to take a look.

http://sgcardin.blogspot.com/search/label/Barbara%20Hodges

My Favorite Local PLaces

On May 20th, I will be a guest on Stephanie Burkhart's blog.  I will be blogging about the Port San Luis lighthouse which I visited last year during the Christmas season.

Thinking about the lighthouse made me also think of other places here on the central coast that I love.  I will be blogging more about them.

My invitation to you is to send me something about a local  place you love.  Include some photos and I will post it here on my blog.

More Author News!

P.I. Barrington let me know that she has a new short story out in the April issue of Suspense Magazine.com. It is titled, "The Cougar's Tale."

Here is the link:

http://suspensemagazine.com/

This magazine is new to me, but I went and checked it out. It looks great.

One reader said.

"Interviews with the best in the business
(Stephen King and Janet Evanovich!),
presented in a stylish format that—like a great
suspense novel—keeps readers like me turning
the pages. I look forward to every issue!”

If you go to the link you can download four free issues.

Way to go Pat!

EPIC needs judges!

EPIC needs some judges. I've been doing this for years. It's not difficult and it is a great way to discover new authors.

FOR JUDGES:
Call out from EPIC, the Electronic Publishing Industry Coalition™:

EPIC eBook Award Competition™ is looking for industry professional judges:
published authors, publishers, and/or editors. If you are interested,
please go to: http://bitly. com/eBookJudging and complete the form. If you
are an author and enter the competition, you will not be assigned to judge
in any categories you enter. You will be contacted during the last two weeks
of May to confirm your continued judging availability. EPIC thanks you in
advance for your willingness to participate.
EPIC’s eBook Award Competition™ opens June 1 and closes July 15. The time
frames for judging are:
Preliminary Round judging, June 5 through July 22
First Round judging, July 27 through September 7.
Final Round of judging, September 17 through October 12.

Thank you for your interest,
Debi Sullivan
EPIC’s Competitions Chair
competitions@ epicorg.com

Ironing

I just made a discovery. Ironing is therapeutic. You lay a shirt in front of you that is all full of wrinkles and then with a little heat, you can make it all perfect. Wouldn't it be great if life was like that?

Tomorrow's No Limits

My two guests for my show on Blog Talk Radio are Ginger Simpson and Kathryn Rose.

Ginger is a multi-published author in many genres. One of her latest releases is story that takes place inside of a women's prison. It's on my To-Be-Read list.

Kathryn Rose's latest book is, A Parent's Guide to Facebook.

Facebook is a great social network, but there are somethings parents should be aware of. Kathryn covers them in her book.

Please come by and listen to what there two talented women have to say.

The show airs at 3:00 PM Pacific Time. Here is the link to the show.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/rrradio/2011/04/14/rrw-no-limits