Michelle L. Levigne's Blog, page 115

New Book: JENNIFER, Quarry Hall 11

Excerpt:

Puck carried a takeout bag clamped in his teeth, while Su-Ma carried a tray of drink cups. Mist had straws and napkins tucked under her wide, rainbow-streaked rhinestone collar. She trotted up to Jennifer and sniffed at her at knee-level, going a full circle before getting close enough to touch. Jennifer swallowed down the tightness in her throat at this sign of the delicate dog's slow emotional recovery. Moving her hands so Mist could see what she was doing, and not startle, she reached to take the straws and napkins out from under the collar, then stroked the dog's back, murmuring praise. Su-Ma was still the only one who could touch Mist's head and neck without sending the dog into shivering semi-paralysis. Despite most of her hair having grown back, she still showed the scars from the abuse she had suffered since puppyhood.
"And you did a good job, too," Jennifer said, turning to Puck so she wouldn't see how Mist nearly turned a somersault to race back to Su-Ma's side. She scratched his head and down his nose before taking the bag from him. "Seven-layer burrito, huh? Just when did Mist tell you that was her favorite?"
"She didn't, but since she doesn't get sick from the bite she gets of mine, makes sense she likes it." Su-Ma stepped back from sliding the drink carrier onto the passenger seat of the truck. She tipped her head toward the back. "Any progress?"

"All I got from George was 'sealed,' whatever that means."

BOOKSIGNING!!!

Yep, another one!

This Saturday, November 18, I'll be at:  Around About Books 8 West Main StreetTroy, Ohio 45373
Starting at 1pm.Lots of other authors will be there, but most notable are my fellow ACFW-Ohio authors, Tamera Lynn Kraft and Sandra Merville Hart.
You like historical romances, or just plain historical fiction? They're the ladies to see.
I'm eagerly waiting for a box of books with print copies of all four of my Guardians of the Time Stream books. Now's a good time to stock up.
Remember: Books are ALWAYS a great Christmas present.Even if it's just for yourself ....
See you Saturday, I hope!!

New Book: JENNIFER, Quarry Hall 11

Excerpt:

"Sealed," George announced. He glanced up at them, offered a flat little smile, then turned and hurried to the back of the truck. Vincent followed, but he shook his head and gestured for Jennifer to stay back.
Not that she needed to see what George was doing. She knew what the inside of the truck looked like, essentially a mobile mechanics shop combined with a high-tech lab. Sophie and Su-Ma and George had gone hog-wild with designing it and configuring it for Internet hook-up and triple-strength power sources so he could run several diagnostic devices at the same time. There was even a small bomb-proof box built into the floor of the truck, with electric and manual release levers, so it could be dropped and left behind, if necessary. Jennifer shuddered, remembering that detail. What was wrong with them, that they had such fun fitting out the truck for George, without remembering that he wouldn't be "playing" with it, but doing serious work?
"Door to door service," Su-Ma called, her voice threading through the trees. Now Jennifer realized what an effective sound barrier those trees made. She didn't hear any of the traffic from the highway or from the drive-thru window of the Taco Bell.

She turned around and saw the dimly outlined shape of Su-Ma trudging down the gravel path. Mist seemed to almost glow, as if her silvery coat of fine hair caught and amplified the light that spilled through from the parking lot. Despite the white of his coat dominating, Puck seemed like a dark shadow in comparison, walking on Su-Ma's other side. Then the three of them stepped into the spill of light from the two sets of headlights, and Jennifer had to laugh.

New Book: JENNIFER, Quarry Hall 11

Excerpt:

The wall of trees turned out to be only a few trees thick, immediately giving way to a clearing. Headlights came on as soon as the Jeep's headlights touched the panel truck that had been George's latest passion for the last two months. She parked lined up with the front end of the truck, creating a pool of strong light. Vincent climbed out of the driver's side. Jennifer slid out of the Jeep and Puck let out a happy yelp and nearly pushed her out of the way as he scrambled out of the driver's seat behind her. He dashed off into the woods, heading for the Taco Bell.
"Power of suggestion," Vincent said, gesturing at the fast food shop with a jerk of his chin.
George stepped out from the back of the truck, rubbing his hands, hunched over and cast into enough shadow that Jennifer saw him for a moment in the classic mad scientist pose. Especially with his stringy hair and slightly misshapen head. Fortunately, he wasn't wearing a white lab coat. The battered old man gave a hop-skip as he held out both hands, approaching her. She couldn't help laughing, the macabre impression fading. This was the George they all knew and loved, eager to play with a new gizmo and learn how it worked. She stepped back to her Jeep, took the silver box from the compartment in the console, and carefully handed it over. George went immediately still, just holding it flat across both palms and studying it, his head tipped to one side.
"Power of suggestion?" she said, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at the Taco Bell.

BLADE OF INNOCENCE, Highlander the TV series fan fiction

Excerpt from Chapter 4 of the fan novel now available on Wattpad:
The yard around the cave-barn echoed in the silence.  Even the softly moaning wind seemed far away, afraid to touch the rocky, weed-strewn oval.
            There.  He caught movement, a flicker of rare sunlight on something bright, a blade perhaps.  Someone peered around the side of the stone farmhouse.
            "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he announced in Chinese, then in French, then German.  He wasn't about to mangle his tongue with what little he knew of the local dialects.  "Show yourself."
            "Doesn't anybody around here know decent English?" a man drawled, and stepped out from behind the farmhouse.  The sun glinted off the curved, heavy blade of his sword.

            "Josh?"  MacLeod took a step back.  "Josh Clay?"  He truly thought his sometime-partner had died, since he missed that rendezvous in San Francisco eighty years ago.
            "It's Josh Porter now, but it's still me."  Josh grinned and scrubbed at his beard, just as black and just as dusty as always, but considerably shorter.  He tugged his wool-lined cap off his head and batted it against his thigh, raising more dust.  "How are you doing, Mac?"
            "The same.  And you?"
            "Lost."
            "Another treasure hunt gone wrong?"  MacLeod smiled, despite the blade still pointing in his direction.
            "Trying to get some friends out of trouble, actually.  We got separated and ... "  Josh finally seemed to see the sword he clutched in his hand.  He sheathed it and slid it back inside his long, stained, dirt-colored coat.  "Put that away, will you, Mac?  I'm not after anyone's head today."  He nodded toward the barn.  "You staying there?"
            "Until night."
            "Nobody comes to this part of the world for the fun of it.  Knowing you, you're probably playing the knight in shining armor again.  Could you use a hand?"

New Book: JENNIFER, Quarry Hall 11

Excerpt:

"I think in this instance, you shouldn't offer the information," Harrison Carter said, when Jennifer voiced her thoughts. "If they ask, then yes, tell them, but … well, I think you need to get that to George and Vincent as soon as possible."
"You're thinking Genghis?" Joan said.
"We are on his radar," he said, while Jennifer muffled a groan and Puck whimpered once and pressed hard against her, offering comfort. "Unless this man from your sordid past has a grudge against you, and the means to follow through on it, Genghis is the most logical option."
Jennifer agreed, and managed to smile at his very subtle joke. She had spoken more with Elizabeth about her past than anyone at Quarry Hall, but it was understood that whatever she knew, she told her husband. Carter had proven it on several occasions, when he offered bits of advice about dealing with the fallout from the destruction of her parents' marriage. More than ten years later, Jennifer was still trying to put the pieces together, and suffering from the delayed ricochet of the metaphorical shrapnel. If her mother had known what long-lasting consequences would result from her affair, would she have continued down that path? Would she have insisted that she hadn't done anything wrong, even as the reactions of others destroyed several Air Force careers and two families?
Considering her mother's current attitude, Jennifer didn't have to think more than a few seconds to know the answer. She made a mental note to try to get in contact with her mother when she got home. Maybe today's unpleasant encounter and reminder of her own bad choices was a sign from God, a nudge in the right direction?

New Book: JENNIFER, Quarry Hall 11

Excerpt:

Yelling, the man got to his feet, staggering every time Puck leaped on him. He stumbled across the parking lot, cursing in some guttural language Jennifer didn't recognize -- not Arabic, German, Russian, or French. She snatched up the flat silver box. Gunshots rang out, and bullets ricocheted off the cement. Somersaulting backwards, she nearly hit her head on the car bumper to her right.
Shouting the commands to stop, retreat, come back to her, in English and reinforced in Greek, Jennifer stumbled backwards into the shelter of her Jeep. The gunshots halted mere seconds after Puck joined her, shuddering and silently growling.
Fighting to calm her breathing, she wrapped her arms around her companion and listened to the night sounds. Specifically, the lack of certain sounds -- running feet, men shouting and cursing, and the roaring of an engine as a car or truck sped away into the night. She could only guess that whoever had tried to do something to her Jeep had approached on foot. Why?
The family at Quarry Hall was still discussing the possibilities, the theories, when the police arrived. Roger stepped out to deal with them, leaving Jennifer to finish the call. Puck stayed with Jennifer, and she was grateful.
She still had the silver box, long enough and wide enough to hold maybe six pencils, clutched tight in her hand. She didn't want to hand it over to the police, but chances were good they would demand she hand it over if she told them about it.

Booksigning!

THIS SATURDAY.
Hope to see you there:


New & Olde Pages Bookshoppe856 Union Blvd, Englewood, OH 45322
The booksigning -- well, if you think about it, a FESTIVAL of BOOKS and AUTHORS -- will be from 1-4.

There'll be goodies and freebies and lots of books to choose from and have them signed. Sounds like a great time and place to start your Christmas shopping.

Or just treat yourself to a new book, while meeting real live authors face-to-face.

We don't bite, honest!
Just make sure you bring lots of chocolate ......

Hope to see YOU face-to-face on Saturday!

The War Room

Please mark the date for the Faith and Fellowship Book Festival, and plan on attending!
Where is Etna? Look for Columbus, OH and then look to the right. Better yet, just plug the address into your map app. Check out this link and see all the authors, all the different kinds of books, the panel discussions available. Oh, yeah, and BOOKS to buy.
I mean, come on, it's time to start CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!!
I'm gonna be there -- I hope to see YOU!

New Book: JENNIFER, Quarry Hall 11

Excerpt:

"Hey," Roger said, putting down his carton. "Sorry. But what's with him?" He pointed.
The hairs on Jennifer's neck prickled as she turned and saw her companion sitting with his head raised, ears pricked far forward, eyes wide and staring as if he could see through the closed door that led to the parking lot.
"Just a second," she said, when Elizabeth asked what was going on. She got up and walked to the hotel room door, with Puck so close against her side, he almost knocked her off her stride. She turned off the lights in the room, then making her motions as delicate as possible, for silence, she slid the security chain off and eased the door open.
A dark, hooded shape hunched down in the shadow cast by her Jeep, parked against the sidewalk in front of her room door. The shape was reaching under the running board on the driver's side. Jennifer flicked her hand down in a gesture she always equated with the starter flag in a horse race. Silent, Puck leaped. Two bounds took him across the sidewalk. His claws scraped on the cement once, and he was on the man just as the hooded figure raised his head.
Jennifer loved the shrieks that Puck could raise in the throats of crooks caught in the act. She leaped out after him, reaching for the flash of silver that flew from the man's hand. If it was a gun, she wanted it in her control, rather than risk the crook snatching it up again.