Michelle L. Levigne's Blog, page 118

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

She had grown comfortable enough with her surroundings and her fellow laborers in the enormous hotel kitchen that she had ventured to sing over her work, peeling and cutting and kneading. She had been happier than she had felt since before her father died. Since before Richard Boniface whispered his sweet, false promises of love. Her co-workers liked her voice and requested songs from her. The last few days, other workers came in during breaks, hoping to hear her sing. They didn't even mind that all the songs she knew were hymns and spirituals and camp meeting songs. Carmen had thought perhaps she had a chance to plant some spiritual seed, and she had felt that sweet contentment she thought she would never feel again.
A man in a slick black suit, with a red silk vest and a pointed black beard came into the kitchen yesterday, while she sang in rhythm with the potato peelings falling from her knife. He didn't make his presence known until she finished, though she thought she had sensed something, some change in the comfortably steamy atmosphere thick with the smells of good cooking.
"Very nice," he said, his smile cold when his voice startled a squeak out of her. He came around to stand on the other side of the table from her. "You should be singing upstairs."
"I'm a cook."
"Yes, with those clothes, what else would you be?" His upper lip curled as he looked her over. "I'm Gio Frierri. You know who I am?"
"You're the owner." Carmen set the knife down on the table and wiped her hands on her apron, then kept her hands on her lap, hidden under the table, so he wouldn't see them shaking.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

Theo came around the corner of an intersecting passageway a dozen paces past the doorway of the lounge. He skidded to a stop, rocking back on his heels, then his usually somber, dark face brightened and he held up a piece of paper. It was stiff and square and the dirty snow yellow of telegram sheets.
"Who?" Ess cast her weariness aside and ran down the passageway to meet him.
"Phoebe." He chuckled and pretended to flinch as he held out the paper for her to take.
She nearly flung her arms around him. Theo wouldn't be smiling now if there was bad news in the telegram. Phoebe was working with Allistair to find her sisters, as well as control the damage from whatever Originator or even Revisionist information the search might uncover.
"What is this?" Ess asked, after reading through the sparse message three times, trying to force it to tell her something. She ran her forefinger under a series of numbers. "They look like coordinates."
"They are." Theo's expression darkened again. "Mixed with code for the designation of that particular location. Basically, Phoebe is telling us that she recognized someone going into a station house that had been declared destroyed four years ago." He tapped the paper above a series of three numbers and two letters. "It doesn't actually say four years ago, but I remember when the report came in because it was so unusual. The location was supposedly surrounded by Revisionists, and declared too hot to investigate for the immediate future. Everyone assigned to that station was declared dead."
"And?" She studied the shifting of muscles in his face as he controlled his expression. Theo wasn't the most readable of people, and that was good, considering the kind of work he did for the security of the Originators. However, she thought she had learned a few things after all this time working with him.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

Ess certainly didn't look forward to spring. She and Uly would stay in the United States, but separated as they went out on Originator business. While it was a relief to learn that the blood link in the communication plates created from crystal dust allowed their grandparents to use them, in a way she was disappointed. She wanted an excuse to send either her or Uly on the Golden Nile to keep an eye on their grandparents. She still had occasional bad dreams where she went to Matilda's workroom or Ernest's office, and found the rooms empty, no sign that anyone had ever used them.
However, she had made a promise to her friend, Phoebe Stryker, to find Phoebe's three sisters, whom their treacherous uncle had hidden away. He used the safety of her sisters to keep control over Phoebe and use her to spy in Sanctuary, while he went about the country, disguised as Mr. Judson of the Pinkertons, to further his plans. The details of those plans were still being uncovered. The last Ess had heard from Allistair Fitch, who had the unpleasant task of uncovering Stryker/Judson's activities, he had found two more false identities. The ire of the Pinkerton Agency and their determination to make all things right gave Ess only minimal comfort. She feared that somehow, Allistair might yet uncover the truth of the Originators, and then what would they do if the Pinkertons decided they were a threat to national security?
"She's nattering again," Matilda said, as their delegation entered the lounge and finally began to divest themselves of their winter cloaks and coats and hats and gloves.
"No, Ess is pondering some devious trick or dire punishment for whatever blockade currently resists her," Ford announced, with a grand bow to Ess that earned a chuckle from his wife Athena.
"It's a good thing that rotter, Stryker, is..." Dr. Lockhart chuckled and sank down into the wingback chair that had become his province on board the airship. He settled his mechanical leg and looked around the room. "Well, to be delicate, rotting."

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

"I declare, if one more person insists that they never believed the official statements that we were presumed dead," Matilda Fremont announced, stepping out of the loading bay of the Golden Nile. She paused for a long sigh as the door closed behind her, cutting off the noise of the wind at nearly two hundred feet above the city of Chicago. "Thank you, Uly. I thought for a moment I was going deaf."
Ulysses bowed to his grandmother, then cocked an eyebrow at Odessa, who had led the way across the gangway from the air dock tower.
"Where was I?" Matilda said as their group moved down the passageway to the main lounge area of the airship. They had just returned from a meeting with the local leadership of the Originators.
"More astounded, relieved people declaring they never once gave up on us," Ernest offered, linking his arm with his wife's, and effectively slowing down her pace.
Matilda sighed, narrowing her eyes at him. A moment later, she tipped her head back and laughed. Stepping around their grandparents, Uly bowed to Ess and offered her his arm. The rest of their party joined in the weary laughter and they resumed their walk down the passageway.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

When her father fell from grace and his colleagues and superiors chose to believe the vicious rumors that shredded his reputation, peace of mind, and his health, Carmen had thought at first Boniface had been behind those false stories; especially when some of the ugly, unbelievable stories and accusations focused on her. Then he had showed up like an avenging angel, fighting to defend her father, mocking those who chose to believe the lies. Even with the taint of disgrace clinging to Carmen and Reverend Mackenzie, he had still wanted to marry her and take both of them away to a quiet life at a small congregation that was waiting for him. His anger had been tempered with sorrow when Carmen refused him again.
Now...
Carmen found she could breathe again when Boniface's blue-gray gaze slid off of hers and he turned to study the other side of the street.
"Nothing," he said, his voice colder than the rain.
"Are you sure you heard it?" the driver asked. In a moment, the steam-cart carried them both out of sight.
"You don't hear it, idiot. You feel it. In your bones."
"My bones are frozen."
Whatever Boniface said in response was hidden in the drumming rain, the splashing of the cart's wheels and the rumble-hiss of its engine as they continued down the street.
Carmen brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, hiding her face in her knees as she shuddered. For just a moment, even as memories and hurt tumbled through her mind, she had been about to open her mouth and shout for him. What made her think that he could possibly be willing to rescue her? 

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing.

A steam-cart trundled down the street from behind her, just as she stepped into the doorway. A whimper of gratitude escaped her clenched teeth as she saw it was deep and wide enough she could have laid down in it, and kept her feet dry. She gratefully sank down into the corner on the right, well out of traffic, if anyone needed to come out of the door. Tugging her skirts down around her ankles, she raised her hand to press against the cross.
The steam-cart came into view, framed in the doorway. It was an open steam-cart, a newer model but without any kind of roof or covering on it. Carmen snorted her disdain for anyone who thought an open vehicle made any sense in Chicago, with its wind and seemingly constant rain. The man who drove it hunched his shoulders, and his eyes were lost in goggles gone white with steam or condensation. The other man in the cart stood up in the passenger section behind him, one hand braced on the seat back, the other on the man's shoulder, and turned his head quickly, surveying the street in front of them.
Carmen paused with her hand just above the cross. She couldn't breathe, as just for a heartbeat, the standing man's gaze seemed to lock with hers. Despite the rain streaming from the flat planes of his chiseled features and darkening his golden hair, slicking it to his head, she recognized him. That flat, hard line of his mouth, she knew very well. It was the last expression she saw on his face before he walked out of her life. Those lips had been as hard as his voice when he castigated her for the choices she had made. 

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

For luck, Carmen had worn her mother's cross. She hadn't worn it since the dream that helped her make up her mind and flee before she lost everything. Seeing and speaking to Essie in her dream had been the first good thing that had happened to her since her father died. She needed that bit of luck or blessing or whatever one wished to call it.
Clutching the cross through the protective layers of inadequate shawl and jacket and shirtwaist, Carmen stepped under the overhang of a doorway on a side street. She tipped her head back and she closed her eyes and prayed. For good measure, she focused on Essie's face as she had last seen her imaginary friend, and called silently with all her force of will. Perhaps she wasn't being so fanciful, wishing that Essie would turn out to be an angel sent to guard and guide and advise her?
The crystal rose warmed and vibrated through the wet layers of cloth. Carmen gasped and stepped back, slamming her shoulders against the wall. She uncurled her fingers from the cross and tried to catch her breath. No, she was not imagining -- the tiny spot where the back of the crystal rose touched her bare skin, under her shirt, was warm. The contrast with the icy rain soaking her clothes was far too clear to be her imagination. She hadn't warmed the cross and rose with her equally cold hand. Then, before she could brace herself to clutch the cross and rose again, the vibrations stopped and the warmth faded. She felt as if the wooden sidewalk rippled like waves under her feet. A more deeply recessed doorway, offering better shelter, was only a dozen steps further down the side street. She needed to sit down, out of the rain, just for a few moments. Hunching her shoulders, Carmen staggered down the sidewalk, aiming for the darkness of the recessed doorway, praying it was dry and deep enough that she could hide from sight while she regained her balance.

From Desert Breeze Publishing.

MUSIC IN THE NIGHT: New release

MUSIC IN THE NIGHT is the last book in the Guardians of the Time Stream series, Steampunk, from Desert Breeze Publishing.

Out THIS WEEK.

Like, NOW.

Here's the deal: Usually with "Book of the Week" you get the blurb on Tuesday, and then on Thursday and Friday you get excerpts.
HOWEVER, with a NEW BOOK, you get 2 weeks of excerpts. So keep coming back to check through next week. You're gonna love it!



Ess and Carmen are childhood friends who only met in dreams. Orphaned and destitute, Carmen flees enemies she doesn't understand. Ess desperately seeks for her friend, knowing their enemies all too well.
Brogan is a creature of the darkness, his music stolen and his face scarred by tragedy. He leads an underground community of people left destitute by injustice and tragedy. Crystal in his flesh and bone allows him to hear Carmen sing in the night. When she takes refuge in his world of tunnels and shadows, she brings him hope that he isn't going mad after all. Ess and Carmen finally meet, resolving puzzles more than twenty years old. A future of possibilities open before them, but only if they can defeat the Revisionists who will destroy them all to control crystal's power, the future, and rewrite the past.

ANALOGS: Phoenix Fan Fiction

Excerpt
Read the whole story on Wattpad: CLICK HERE

A burst of light flashed through the trees up ahead, too low to the ground to be sunlight. A tingling of power in the air told Preminger a move had been made. He rounded the curve and found the car ahead of him stopped by a huge tree fallen across the road. A blur of movement caught his eye to the right and he saw Bennu emerge from the bushes. He could have sworn Bennu winked at him as he ran in front of his car and past the deputy up front before diving into the woods again. The officer stood and stared after Bennu for a fraction of a second.
"He's escaped!" Preminger found himself out of the car and yelling before he had a chance to think. "After him, quick!" And then he dashed into the woods, angling off from the direction Bennu was headed.
Looking back, he saw Reydell run into the woods on the other side. The other deputies saw him and gave chase. What happened next amazed Preminger and let him laugh as he had not in months.
Every few seconds, the escaped prisoner would appear on one side of the road or the other and dash back into the trees just after the officers saw him. No one but Preminger noticed that the clothes changed constantly, and he appeared on the left without crossing the road, when they had seen him on the right two minutes before. In a moment, the pursuers were off down the road, shouting, pointing in all the directions they had just seen Bennu or Reydell. The road curved away so Preminger couldn't see what was happening, but he knew the outcome. The analogs would soon have the hunters so confused they would keep running without seeing anyone. Then Bennu and Reydell would double back. It was too perfect.
When he had his chuckles under control, Preminger headed back to the cars. He took the handcuffs out of the back seat where Reydell left them, and threw them far into the bushes. That was one uncomfortable question eliminated. Something bounced off his shoulder, hitting the road with a dry "pop." He looked down -- it was an early acorn. Another hit him, and he turned to see Aria beckoning from the bushes. Without a word, he followed her. The shadowy forest swallowed them both in a moment, and he began to wonder at the back of his mind if he had been wise to come after her.

Book of the Week: SANCTUARY

Book Two of the Guardians of the Time Stream series, from Desert Breeze Publishing.

Her heart raced from more than the pace, and she wished Athena hadn’t insisted on such a wide brim for her hat. Held this close to him, she couldn’t see his face, couldn’t even guess what was going through his mind right that moment.
He slowed at a door with a large brass "E" in place of a nameplate, thumped four times in an odd rhythm, and hurried into the next office down the hallway. Ess stumbled when he gave her a little shove into the room, and a moment later the door slammed behind them.
"You rascal. You scoundrel," he said, the rasp deepening, threatening to crack his voice. He caught hold of her again, shook her once, then held her out to arm’s length, his fingers digging into her shoulders deep enough to bruise. His eyes flicked back and forth, studying her features.
"Stanton?" Mr. Randall Endicott said, opening the door and stepping in after only the shortest rap.
"Look what the tide dropped on our doorstep." Lewis turned Ess around so quickly she nearly lost her balance. It was a good thing he kept his tight grip on her shoulders.
"Odessa," the elder partner whispered. He took two jerky steps forward. For a few seconds, she thought he might collapse -- or lunge forward and shake her until her neck snapped.
Then Endicott tipped his head back and laughed, until he staggered back a step and had to catch his breath. Lewis let go of her and hurried to fetch a chair for the older man to sit down.
She complied when Endicott held out his hand, and gave hers into his grasp.

"Shades of Matilda and Ernest," Lewis said, bringing over another chair for Ess. He settled on the edge of the massive desk, shaking his head and grinning. "You wouldn’t believe the story this scapegrace told, coming in here. A false name, a Pinkerton agent, and working for one of the premier historical consortiums in the world. Girl -- no, young lady -- what have you been up to?"