Living the Dream

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. March has certainly come in as a lamb for us here in Eastern Ontario. The temperature ids mild and the snow is going away, although there’s more in the forecast. To those of you with a dollop of Irish blood, I wish you a Happy St Patrick’s Day.

Atonement is heading toward its conclusion as Anca gets closer to fulfilling her destiny. This week, we have a picture prompt, and our word limit is 300. Here’s the picture I selected. Enjoy.

Walt held Pop’s hand as Snap and Crackle moved among the goats in the enclosure. Earlier, he and Anca had introduced themselves to Richard Olsen and Brigit, the Tanguy farm managers, and had been given a tour of the farmhouse. If Ishmael’s desk had ever been there, it wasn’t now, nor was it in any of the outbuildings they’d examined.

While Anca had scrutinized every room in each of the buildings they’d visited, the only thing that had caught her attention had been an older, handblown, peach-colored glass bowl with a red beeswax candle in its center. When she’d commented on it, Brigit had insisted she take it, claiming that it had been used the previous year on Samhain as part of a matchmaking game. Unfortunately, she hadn’t noticed anything enchanted that could be the exit from the tunnel. As it stood, they had to hope that whatever was under the last cobblestone would give them the clues they needed.

He turned to her, his heart filling with more love than he would’ve thought possible. The sheer joy on her face as she watched the children brought with it a longing for children of his own—her children. He frowned, but if last night’s fantasies were to be believed, that might never happen. His sleep had been interrupted with dreams, at first similar to their moment in the bar, but then she would don the fur and run into the water. In that moment, he knew she would never return, and it devastated him. How much of the selkie would stay in her once she tamed the storm and defeated Losh? Would she remember him and the life they could have here, or would the lure of the sea be too strong to fight?

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Welcome to March! We’re only two weeks away from the first day of spring, although Old Man Winter is keeping a tight grip on things around here. This week, the authors of the Tuesday tales blog are posting scenes with the word prompt LUCK. We’re moving closer to the climax here in Atonement. I hope you’re enjoying my magical, mystical, suspenseful paranormal tale.

Walt finished his milkshake. “I agree, and you’re right.” He chuckled. “Didn’t you say a soul could come back as anything, even one of the birds you hate?”

“I suppose, but I think we controllers of magic do return in human form. I’m hoping to learn more about that later … if we have a later.”

He reached for her empty hand. “We will. We have to. Now, what else did you learn?”

She described discovering runes on the staircase and finding the box in the cradle.

“Here it is.” She set a carved rectangular box on the table between them. “Even Hester didn’t know it was there. I asked her if she knew what I needed to find, but she’s never seen the artifacts. Hezekiah told her about them and that they were hidden someplace safe, but not what they were. That’s why she’s sure he would’ve come back for her … and them … if he could have. Since he didn’t, and the artifacts remain hidden where he left them, none of the Coles since his death have been able to protect the planet from catastrophic storms and other weather-related disasters. I’ve been trying to get my head around the reason for that; I mean, there have been at least fifty Coles since Hester’s death, but none of them could’ve had the abilities I do.”

He scratched his chin. “It could be a case of atavism, what people call a throwback.”

“You mean like my toes?”

“It’s possible, but those aren’t as rare as you think. Essentially, Atavism occurs when genes for an older trait, preserved in DNA, reassert themselves, replacing a dominant gene that we’re familiar with, one that hasn’t been seen in many generations. For example, hens have the gene to grow teeth, but as a rule, they don’t, just like fish and snakes don’t have legs and feet, but every now and then, you see one that does. many of the freaks in Barnum’s circus tents were mild examples of it. Look at it this way. It’s the luck of the draw, and you won the grand prize. Would you have preferred being born with hair from head to toe?”

Considering the fact that he was precariously close to the truth, she laughed. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” Huffing out a deep breath, she stared out at the water.

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Another month come and gone! Sadly, it didn’t take winter with it! As I sit here this morning, the school buses are cancelled again because Old Man Winter is being a jerk again. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had more than enough of the 22-23 winter season. Twenty-one days until spring. It can’t come soon enough.

March 1 question – Have you ever read a line in novel or a clever plot twist that caused you to have author envy?

Anyone who answers no to this question has to be lying. Let’s face it. Most of us became writers for that very reason. We envied what others had written and wanted to prove to ourselves and the world that we could do it, too.

My desire to become a writer started in my pre-teens when I used to read the novels my mother bought me or the ones I picked up at the library. As an asthmatic in the late fifties, early sixties, I had no puffers to stop me from hacking my way through allergy season. When things got really bad, I spent a few days in the hospital on oxygen until the episode resolved itself. My best friends were Nancy Drew, Annette, Trixie Belden, and The Hardy Boys. I would read my books, and when I was done with them, I would let my imagination create other adventures for the characters. Back in those pre-computer days, I filled notebooks with ideas that never went anywhere.

As I got older, my choices in reading became more eclectic. I consumed historical novels, dined on Harlequin Romances, and mysteries. Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, and Hercule Poirot became my go-to heroes. I loved the way Doyle and Christie pulled the stories together.

Now, as an author, I seek to emulate those classics. Am I succeeding? I hope so. Nothing would please me more than hearing a budding author say that I inspired them to become a writer because they wanted to write like me.

Hope March is kind to us all. Check out other posts on this topic here. https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

Welcome to the end of February. Is it just me, or wasn’t Christmas like yesterday?

Today, the authors from Tuesday Tales are bringing you scenes based on the word prompt BUD. I’ve jumped ahead a little. Losh is a fallen god out for revenge against the Coles. My scene is from Atonement, my Psychic Romance/Paranormal Suspense. There are only a few scenes left before it heads over to be published. The plot thickens.

“Aunt Selma, there’s no easy way to say this, but your guests aren’t who and what they say they are. They aren’t demons, but I believe they’re working with Losh. Roberta says they’re trying to identify him, but he’s gotten better at hiding himself from their magic. The men have been searching the cottage, The Taproom in particular, but if Hezekiah has enchanted the artifacts, I may be the only one who can find them.”

Her aunt leaned back. “I should’ve known. It’s as if I’ve been in a fog for months not a day.” She reached for the red rose in the vase, the bloom not much more than a bud. A touch of her fingers, and it blossomed. “Maybe hitting my head has knocked some sense into me. Roberta brought me some tea earlier that seems to have done wonders. I’m far more clearheaded than I was. I can’t for the life of me understand why I would’ve done such a thing.”

“You were worried about me, Samhain, and everything else that’s due to happen.”

Aunt Selma chuckled. “There’s a little more to it than that, and we both know it. The time wasn’t right. Now, it is, although I wish we had more of it. When you get back to the cottage this afternoon, open the chest. Inside you’ll find three books handed down from generation to generation, although few of us can read them now. Le Grand Albert and Le Petit Albert are grimoires, books of magic and alchemy, with spells and incantations as well as recipes for potions. There may be something in there that can help identify this latest incarnation of Losh. The smaller book is by no means an abridged version of the larger one. Many of my elixir and soap recipes come from it. Hester translated them for me, and I wrote them out. You’ll find my book of recipes in there as well as a journal written by Asher Cole, Ishmael’s father and the leader of the expedition that fled Jersey for the New World. They traveled in three ships, that I know. His book is in Breton, unlike the grimoires written in twelfth century Latin, not quite the language you learned in school. The author, Albertus Magnus, is actually a Catholic saint. If you’re the one meant to read them, you will.”

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Good morning. It’s snowing in my corner of the world. What’s it doing in yours? This month, the ABB has reduced the prices on some fascinating sets–everything from comedy to suspense, cozy mysteries to thrills and chills.

We’ve discounted book bundles in three genres of book bundles. Now only $2.99 USD each, or fee in Kindle Unlimited, you can load up your e-reader for that vacation south you’re looking forward to this month. Not traveling? Then cuddle up in your favorite chair with these not to be missed books from New Yor Times and USA Today bestselling authors.

Looking for Cosy Mystery? Check out the Diehard Dames Amateur Detective Series which includes, Murder is to Die For https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09885J19V and Murder is Scheduled for Monday. https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Scheduled-Diehard-Amateur-Detective-ebook/dp/B09S6MFM5D

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Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. This weekly blog highlights the work in progress of a select group of authors. Each week, we write to a word or picture prompt. This week, our prompt is HARD. I’m continuing with my psychic romance/ paranormal suspense novel, Atonement. Enjoy.

Anca retraced her steps and entered the house once more. Voices coming from the kitchen indicated the women were busy baking. She looked around the foyer, the way she had a thousand times before, but this time everything from the painted white walls to the handwoven rugs seemed to have taken on new life. Was this because she believed and could see through the glow of magic? Why she could visualize the beauty of simple objects enhanced by spells and incantations? The room was really no different than it had always been, but she could appreciate it more in this new light. If there were secret passages leading from these rooms, surely, she would find them now?

Examining the banister and staircase with new appreciation, she was astounded by the fine detail of runes previously invisible to her. Was that a thunderbolt? The one a little father along was definitely a six-spoked wheel, and unless she was mistaken, the third was a ring with initials T O T. As she looked closer, she saw what appeared to be a tornado, dark clouds, and perhaps an eclipse … and was that a seal? The carvings were exquisite. How hard it must’ve been to bring that all the way to Salem in one piece, but as much as the item was gorgeous, it didn’t seem to fit the home of a Puritan. It was possible the family might not have been that way in Jersey.

Had they hope to be able to live freely here? When had they realized they’d simply traded one frying pan for another? Witch Trials had been prevalent throughout Europe for centuries before they’d come to Salem, so most likely that was why they’d fled.

Still, the Spanish oak tree from which the banister had been carved must’ve been massive. The workmanship on the spindles was meticulously done, and the wood polished to a high gleam. Why had she never noticed these things before? She’d been blind to far more than Hester’s presence.

Moving deeper into the house, she stepped into the recreation of the main floor of Hester’s home. While the kitchen had been changed and modernized, Aunt Selma, with Hester’s help no doubt, had recreated a close facsimile of the ghost’s home. Nothing in this room appeared to have been disturbed. The smaller items like the old prayer book and a book of proverbs were still there, next to an unfinished sampler and a pile of mending.

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Winter still has a firm grip on my little corner of the world. The weather is comfortable, but we’ve had snow again, with more on the way. I can’t wait to see grass again.

This week, our posts are shorter, no more than 300 words and based on an image. I’m continuing with Atonement. here’s the image I chose. Enjoy!

Rachelle reached for her arm. “Anca, be careful. Something feels very wrong, as if we’re heading toward a cliff in a car without brakes.”

Anca smiled, hoping to reassure the woman who believed what she was saying. “Don’t worry. Walt and I will be fine.” Now, if only she could convince herself of that.

Moving as quickly as she could, Anca left the kitchen, went outside once more and down the stairs to the patio where Colby and the others were at work setting up a huge tent to serve as an enclosure for the patio.

“What do you think?” Colby asked.

“It’s perfect. Where did you get it?”

“Matt Rivers bought it for his daughter’s wedding last spring. He found it so handy that he opted to keep it and rent it out for other outside events. He’s let us have it free of charge until we close up for the year. Might be nice to have a roof over our heads. I heard there might be bad weather on its way. We’ll take it down before that happens—if it does.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to persuade Hurricane Hester to give us a pass, I will.”

Colby chuckled. “Hurricane Hester, eh? That should be one for the books. Anything else you want us to do? I thought I’d get some more pumpkins and berries from the farm to decorate around the poles and along the top of the stone wall. I was going to set up the cauldron, too. Hester always cleans it before it gets put away. Perhaps you can use it to make some of that hot apple cider—with rum in it to ward off the chill.”

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

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BACK TO ME by Natalie Ann, USA Today bestselling author: Cooper Winslow accepted that his first secret love in college was lost to him forever and moved on with his life. Years later, fate brings them together and now he wonders if he is going to lose her again with all the family drama he’s lived with for years.

SWEET SUCCESS by Suzanne Jenkins, USA Today bestselling author: Carly and Jake love each other, but have goals that will place them at opposite ends of the country. When their dreams fall through, will love still be an option?

YOUR DANGEROUS KISS by Alicia Street, USA Today bestselling author: Rafe March considers his career on the big screen a fluke that he isn’t sure he ever wanted. With magazine cover good looks, a near genius IQ and a wealthy family, his options in life are plenty. Too bad the only thing he ever really wanted was Lucinda.

WE’RE ALL WINNERS by Mona Risk, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author: Scheming people and secrets separated them. With help from her toddler and his German shepherd, love may bring them together again.

THE REGAL ROSE by Susanne Matthews, International bestselling author: She’s a princess in distress; he’s her knight in shining armor. Can he rescue her one more time?

With Valentine’s Day around the corner and winter still deeply entrenched, what could be more perfect than six new steamy romances–some steamier than others–exclusive to this set for the next few weeks? At only 99 cents USD or free to read in KU, this set is a great bargain for romance readers.

Here’s a little more about my book in the set, The Regal Rose

She’s a princess in distress. He’s her knight in shining armor. Can he rescue her once more?
Ten years ago, Princess Anna-Rose fell in love with Trucker, a long-haired, bearded American student backpacking through Europe. Her mother’s sudden illness forced her to leave him without saying goodbye or revealing the truth about her identity. All she has is a dried rose and an emptiness in her heart to prove their relationship ever happened.
When her father insists that she choose a husband, she threatens to leave the royal family. Her brother comes to her aid. She has one shot at finding her lost lover. If she fails, she has to select one of the suitors presented to her and wed before the year is out. With the clock ticking, Anna goes to the United States hoping to find Abbot’s Cove and the man she loves.
Bryce Bannon, Trucker to his old friends, is the owner, president, and CEO of Bannon Enterprises, a multi-million-dollar, international logistics company. He’s content to control his empire from a distance and maintain the anonymity he gets living on his stud farm along Lake Erie where he raises thoroughbreds and roses.
When a snowstorm hits, he goes out to check on his animals and hears a horn wailing in the distance. Despite his aversion to strangers, he can’t let someone freeze to death. Something about the woman he rescues is familiar, but when he recognizes his Rosie, he’s elated—until he discovers her true identity and questions her reason for being there. Will they rekindle the love they had, or will duty pull them apart once more?

The Regal Rose is exclusive to this box set until April 2023. Don’t wait. Get your copy now.

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. We survived the polar vortex with its temperatures of -40 and are back within the normal range today. I’ll be happy not to have any other really cold days this winter. Toay it’s 27F and the sun is shining. I can live with that.

This week, out prompt word is SMOKE. I’m using SMOKY, a variation of the word and I’m continuing with Atonement.

“You don’t have to bother. I have one of Aunt Selma’s amulets which I’m sure will do the trick.” She pulled the amulet out of her pocket. “Unfortunately, the clasp broke last night, and it hit the stone floor in The Taproom. I was going to ask Colby if he could fix it. I’d hate to discover that I’d ruined it.”

Roberta’s eyes opened wide. “Where did you get that?”

“Walt gave it to me last night. He said it was Aunt Selma’s. They had to remove it for the surgery.”

Horror filled Roberta’s eyes, and her cheeks turned a vivid shade of red.

“There’s no way that belongs to Selma, and even if it did, she would never want you to have it. Look at it. Really look at it.”

Anca turned the amulet over in her hand and gasped.

“Oh my God! What’s happened to it? It’s all black and smoky. Is this because it dropped onto the floor when the chain broke last evening. When Walt gave it to me, it was a beautiful, colorful tree of life sheltered under glass.”

“That’s because it’s evil has been released. It must have been glamoured for you not to see its ugliness. How did you drop it?”

“The clasp broke when … when I was dancing with Walt,” she parried. “I thought I heard Hester speak to me.”

“What did she say?”

Anca forced her mind back. “Cheap spells won’t keep me away.”

Roberta nodded. “She’s the one who destroyed it. Know this. Selma would never wear or give you anything made of cheap metal designed to look like iron. This is a synthetic, a poor imitation. There’s no way Selma was wearing this. Iron is a witch’s mainstay. It’s all around us, a gift from the Goddess. It’s stable, protective, inconspicuous, inexpensive, ancient, practical, and enduring, but only those of us who serve the Goddess know how to use it. Whoever gave this to Walt knows you’re a couple now and may have hoped to drive a wedge between you. They’ve tried to block your magic, but you are far stronger than they suspect, especially if Hester could still communicate with you while you wore it. There’s only one explanation. We have a spy in our midst.”

“Or six. It could easily be any of those men. They were around when she spoke to me. I must’ve reacted and given myself away.” Or maybe the person who’d been hiding down in The Taproom had heard her arguing with Hester.

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

It seems the Canadian Groundhog, and a lobster can’t agree this year. Five out of seven have predicted a longer winter, but to be fair, Fred La Marmotte, from Quebec died during the night. Not sure his vote counts, but the child who replaced him, wearing a groundhog hat and carrying a stuffed groundhog, predicted six more weeks of winter in his stead. Check out the CBC post for yourself. https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/fred-la-marmotte-dies-1.6734368

8 Surprising Things You Didn’t Know About Groundhog Day Thanks Good Hhouskeeping magazine for the info! https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/g3215/groundhog-day-facts/

The Germans started the whole Groundhog Day thing.

They believed that if the sun came out on Candlemas, February 2, a German holiday, there would be six more weeks of winter. Not sure when the groundhog or that Canadian lobster got in on the action, but I’d bet they weren’t the only ones to see their shadows today.

The groundhog really can predict the end of winter.

Since groundhogs hibernate, the fact that they would come out February 2 probably does indicate that winter’s almost over.

Punxsutawney Phil is just a nickname.

His full name is “Punxsutawney Phil, Seer of Seers, Sage of Sages, Prognosticator of Prognosticators, and Weather Prophet Extraordinary.” Now that’s a mouthful!

The original Groundhog Day involved eating groundhogs.

There’s no accounting for taste, and if you’re hungry enough … in 1886, they all headed over to Gobbler’s Knob to dine on a feast made up of various groundhog dishes and the equally-delicious-sounding groundhog punch. 

Punxsutawney Phil isn’t the only weather predictor.

As seen above, Canada relies on a number of vetted sources for weather prediction.

“Groundhog Day” the movie put Punxsutawney Phil on the map.

This is one of my all-time favorite Bill Murray movies. Whenever bad stuff happens and keeps happening, it’s a groundhog kind of day.

Flipping a coin is more accurate than Phil.

I believe that, especially if you have a two-headed coin.

Punxsutawney Phil may know the secret to everlasting life.

That little rodent has been around since 1886. He’s either the oldest rodent around or he’s really into reincarnation!

But take heart everyone. Regardless of the predictions, the fact is in 2023, the first day of spring will be March 20th. So, smile. There are only 46 days until spring.

Looking for something light to read? Why not pick up one of my Cocktails for You books? Tequila Sunrise is only 99 cents this month! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08PCCXH1W