Leonard D. Hilley II's Blog, page 9

5 Days Until Frosthammer Releases

The Kindle edition and paperback versions of the third book in the Aetheaon Chronicles are due to release on April 12th, 2019. The Pre-order is LIVE at: Frosthammer Kindle. The spectacular cover art was made by John Dotegowski.

For those of you devoted to the Aetheaon Chronicles, you should recall Boldair’s dilemma in Lady Squire, who now faces greater responsibilities than he did before.

From Treasure Hunter to Dwarven King:

Cover art by John Dotegowski

During the Battle of Hoffnung, Boldair discovers his father’s secret betrayal and is declared Nagdor’s new king by the Northern Dwarven Alliance. Boldair and three of his fellow Dwarves begin their journey to Nagdor for his coronation. Due to possible threats on his life in opposition to his taking the throne, he decides to take a longer route home by detouring through the autonomous, majestic city lost to legend and hidden deep beneath the Frosted Peaks. The city is Frosthammer, which is occupied by an unusual Dwarven race that are untrusting to visitors, even new kings. The journey becomes fraught with more dangers than Boldair ever expected or imagined.

 

 

The Dwarves in Aetheaon Chronicles are endearing and perhaps some of my favorite characters in the series due to their interactions with one another. This book opens up new venues for the series as well.

~400 pages.

Blessings to you and yours.

Until next time …

Bizarre Circumstances …

The first job I had, outside of lawn and farm work, was at Food World in Fort Payne, AL. Right before I graduated from Plainview High School, I put in an application, hoping to get summer employment before going to Berea College in September.

My interview was with Steve Horn, who was one of the managers, and the interview was brief. Basically, he looked at the application and then at me, and asked if I could start the next week. I said that I could and was hired.

I was hired as a ‘bag boy’, which was something I’m not sure exists anymore. At least, we no longer have paper bags and most cashiers won’t place the bags into your cart. Anyway, that was my job, to bag groceries, place them into the cart, and retrieve long trains of shopping carts from the parking lot when the rush at the cashier lines settled down.

After a month or so of working, I noticed an elderly woman who came into the store once a week. She’d buy a couple of bags of groceries and then stood outside the store for several hours waiting to get a ride home. She usually did this during the extreme heat of the day. She didn’t appear to have much money, but she always wore dresses. From what the cashiers and managers said, she was in a Holiness church in Fort Payne. She’d stand outside, smiling, staring off into the distance, and despite the heat, people generally avoided her. She never begged for a ride or asked for money. She simply stood there for hours on end. Eventually, someone that knew her would give her a ride home.

One day, she stood outside the store during the entire time I was at work. The humidity was horrible that day. The front of the store where she stood was also where the afternoon and evening sun focused its energy. I’m surprised she had survived through the horrible heat. When my mother came to pick me up from work, this church lady was still there. I told my mother how long the woman had stood there and if we could give her a ride home. My mother agreed, so I asked the woman if she needed a ride.

Her first response was ‘no’, but my mother insisted, as she could see the fatigue on the woman’s face. Her hair was matted down with sweat and even my mother didn’t want the lady to continue with the madness of waiting. By this time, the sun had already set.

Now, as I mentioned, the lady went to church and would eagerly say that she was a Christian. I won’t argue that she wasn’t. But, the trip was odd.

We left Food World’s parking lot and took I-59 North to the other Fort Payne exit at the time. I sat straddled in the backseat and let the woman ride up front with my mother. From the time we got onto the Interstate, this woman began talking about how evil the world had become. This was 1985, and if we were to believe her, the world was soon to be over.

Mom’s car was an old four-door Datsun with bucket seats and no seat belts. As the woman talked, she’d lean toward my mother across the divider, almost touching her. While I would have expected she’d try to persuade us to visit her church, she didn’t. All she talked about was the devil and the evil that was prevalent in the world. I noticed a shift in the car’s atmosphere, like a cloud of oppression had settled over us. The night seemed darker, and both my mother and I became uncomfortable being in the car with her. She spoke and dominated the conversation, seldom allowing us to get a word in. Nothing positive came from this lady, and strange as it were, I found myself wishing we hadn’t given her a ride. Every now and then, my mother looked into the rearview mirror to catch my gaze, and she was very uneasy.

At the next Fort Payne exit, my mother turned right. In 1985, that end of Fort Payne wasn’t as developed as it is now. The intersection had a flashing yellow light and not a full traffic light setup. The North Y didn’t have all the restaurants or stores that occupy the area now, either. Just the rundown building that had been Jenny’s Bar-B-Q near where the old drive-in used to be. Few street lights were even there. It was a dark part of the city.

The woman continued to lean toward my mother still babbling about the evil things in the world and the way she leered while she talked distracted my mother. As we rounded the sharp curve near the Y, the woman said to turn left, almost at the last minute. My mother slowed down and was turning when a car came right at us. It happened in an instant. The headlights approaching weren’t seen until after she had crossed into the other lane. Police would later estimate the other car’s speed at close to 70 mph in a 45 mph zone, so my mother had little time to react anyway.

The oncoming car struck ours with such force that the motor of our car was shoved partway into the front seat. My mother was knocked unconscious and the lady struck her head on the windshield, suffering a gash on her forehead. I hit the two front seats, my head hit the overhead light, and I was thrust back against my seat. The top of my head was wet so I ran my hand across my hair. The liquid was red but after a few seconds I realized it wasn’t blood, but the impact had burst the tops off of the two gallon jugs of fruit punch in the floor between my legs.

The woman was leaning in her seat, holding her head, and speaking in tongues. My mother wasn’t moving. I leaned up and called to her several times. I thought she’d been killed. I got out of the car and rushed around to my mother, opening her door. She opened her eyes and groaned. After she became more alert, she noticed the woman was bleeding. I took off my shirt and handed to the woman to press against the cut. Mom was shaken up and barely able to move, but said that she was okay, other than her knee.

I walked to other car to check on the passengers. The driver was severely dazed, as was his passenger. Neither got out of the car right away.

Understand that this was before cellphones. No phone booth was nearby. How the police and an ambulance arrived so quickly was beyond my understanding. I returned to my mother and waited with her. I was the only one uninjured.

The police were baffled that my mother had survived, pointing out how far the engine had been shoved into the car console. He asked about seat belts and my mother mentioned there weren’t any. He indicated that had she been wearing one, she’d probably have been killed as the steering wheel would’ve crushed her. The impact had slung her against the door instead. Luckily, it hadn’t come open.

The ambulance placed my mother on a gurney, and the lady refused treatment. Officers said that they’d find someone to get her. As they loaded my mother into the ambulance, I asked if I could ride along since the car was totaled. At first, they had said I couldn’t because they didn’t realize I had been in the car, too. They thought I had stopped to help everyone.

My mother had to have her knee bandaged and was told she might later need surgery, depending on how it healed. Luckily, she had full coverage insurance on her car, which paid for her hospital treatment and actually enabled her to get a better car.

A few days later at work, the woman was again outside Food World with a buggy of groceries and a large bandage on her forehead. A day or so passed and a lady I’d not seen before approached me in the store. She apologized for the accident and said that she went to church with the lady. I told her that she didn’t need to apologize, as she had no involvement in the situation. That’s when she told me that the woman actually owned property and was fairly well-off financially. And even though she’d asked the woman countless times not to stand outside the store like she did and to drive (apparently owning her own car), the woman refused to do so. I was stunned and a little angry that she posed to be someone needing a ride and having little.

I’m not certain what image she had been trying to portray, but what bothered me worse was the aura that surrounded this woman. Regardless of her or anyone’s religion, I was more disturbed that she wished to talk only about the negative things (or evil, as she preferred) instead of the more positive aspects in one’s spiritual path. Had we not given her a ride, I’d have never seen this side of her. In my mind, based upon what others had indicated about her, I held a preconceived idea of this woman. One that would’ve been much more positive and uplifting, at least that was my take on her. But, not once during that short trip did she say anything positive.

You cannot live an abundant life if your focus is in on negativity. Negativity weighs you down. It eats your ambition and kills one’s want or drive to do more for the future. You’re surrounded by hopeless despair. Because if the world’s destine only to get worse, what’s the use in trying, right?

“From the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks”, is true. What is abundant on the inside will eventually show on the outside. So consuming negativity instead of positive ambitions is equal to the saying, “You are what you eat.” Eventually, the negativity consumes you and spews out to all you come in contact with.

Sometimes bitterness shows on peoples’ faces. Not always. So, it’s never good to base quick judgmental labels on those you meet from appearance alone. People like me, who unfortunately have a natural Grumpy Cat face, are often thought to be mean individuals. My size doesn’t help my situation, either. I’ve had students in the past who were intimidated by me on the first day of class until after I began lecturing and they realized my personality was far different than what my face shows. This has been the case with many of my jobs. People think I’m angry all the time.

It’s far better to try to see the positive things in life and share those than to capitalize on the misery of negativity and trying to bring others down.

Salem, Massachusetts, Bookstore

In 2013, a dream of mine was achieved. I finally got to visit Salem, Massachusetts.

The driving adventure from Kentucky to Salem was an experience.

For those of you who watched the television series, Bewitched, you probably remember the episodes where they went back in time to the Witch Trials. Most of the seventh season of Bewitched was filmed in and the stories centered around Salem. Salem’s history intrigued me, even though I was about six years old, and I knew I would one day visit.

A lot of what Hollywood produces about the history of Salem is incorrect. No witches were burned in Salem. Hanging was how the accused were killed. Some were even pressed to death under stones.

Years later, those accused of being witches were found to be innocent. However, some were never absolved of the charges.

We visited several museums and learned a lot of Salem’s history. The accusations and the trials were really a power grab and politically motivated in order to take prominent land from the citizens. Basically, if you were accused and admitted your guilt, your land was taken and you lived. If you were accused and pled innocent, you were hanged and your land was taken. Either way, you lost your property.

Giles Corey and his wife were accused of being witches. Giles was a prosperous man who owned a great deal of property. He refused to admit his guilty, and rightly so. At the age of 53, he was sentenced to be pressed to death under stones. This torture required the subject to be stripped of clothing and boards placed upon the body. Heavy stones were added and the victim slowly suffocated to death. Giles Corey, according to some, was stubborn and greedy. Although in his defense, greedy isn’t an appropriate word when the man stood to lose all his property regardless of his plea. But for three days, more stones were placed atop the boards until finally he died. Before he died, Salem folks say that he placed a curse upon Salem with his dying breath.

Whether one believes in curses or not, Salem went from a prosperous port on the east coast to a shallow inlet. It was as though the bay dried up. Near Derby Square is a marker that shows how far the water had reached centuries ago. On Derby Square is

perhaps one of the most interesting bookstores we’ve had the pleasure of visiting.

From the outside, it’s not much different than any other storefront. But inside, that’s where the fun begins. If you love books, and if ever you get the opportunity to visit Salem, this is the bookstore of your dreams.

There’s no way to estimate how many books are stack from the floor to the ceiling, but the chance of an avalanche smothering you …

The picture to the right is the view from the door as you enter. We walked inside and a man said, “How are you?” Strange, I had not seen him due to the massive piles of books, but his voice was enough to give me pause. I stopped and took a few steps back to see a narrow opening on the counter between more stacks of books. As you can see from the picture, Frank allowed just enough room to pay him for the books.

He told us that he could get us any book we pointed at, regardless of where it was in the stack. Of course it might require moving a hundred pounds of paperbacks to get it.

Anyway, approximately where this bookstore is located in the square was how far the bay once reached. And then in 1914, The Great Fire of Salem is recorded. Nearly 1400 buildings burned in the industrial fire, leaving thousands without homes and without jobs. According to legend, Giles Corey’s ghost was seen walking the graveyard the night before the Great Fire occurred.

Interesting?

We loved our trip and one day would love to spend several weeks there. I’ve more to share about Salem.

Until next time …

 

 

Throwback Thursday/Flashback Friday

 Back in the days of the Polaroid. We always argued over who got the flaming hot flashbulb when it popped out of the camera. The reward of ‘winning’ was an occasional blister, but the scuffling remained the same.

How things have changed since. As you can see, the sun was bright on this day. My sister, Tina, and I are shielding our eyes. David’s eyes are more closed than open. Dad’s shadow indicates who the photographer was, and I’m certain a better angle could’ve spared us the sunspots in our eyes.

If my guess is correct, this was probably taken during the winter of 1971. Ages ago. The yard was still partly barren, and our father’s tree-planting addiction had sprouted, but not yet come to (cough) fruition.

Chris, David, and Tina were visiting us near Christmas. Those were thrilling times for me whenever they came to visit. Summers, when they stayed for a few weeks, were always adventurous.

The dog Chris has his hands on was Ol’ Queenie, a beagle. The collie in front was Nell. One of Dad’s friends had given the dog to us. Nell was an interesting dog. She liked playing games with us, and we learned this by accident. My mother was throwing one of those plastic balls you find in Walmart’s huge bins at me. Nell ran in front of me and hit the ball up in the air with her nose. Instead of batting it away, she kept hitting it up in the air with her nose like she was playing volleyball. She wouldn’t let it hit the ground.

Everyone gathered and took turns tossing the ball to her. She then volleyed the ball back to each of us. She loved it. Perhaps, she loved it a little too much. By evening, her pointed nose had worn the ball out and the ball lost its air overnight.

She learned, and we did too, that baseball was NOT her game. Her eye/mouth coordination was perfect, as she did catch a popup with great accuracy but chipped a tooth in the process. She retired quickly from the sport, leaving the task of catching baseballs to us. However, she didn’t make it any easier for us since she still ran to catch the ball and sometimes tripped us up before she ducked out of the way.

Nell was a great dog during my youth, but sadly, she didn’t stay with us too long. She had a bad habit of chasing cars and one morning when I went out to wait for the school bus, she’d been hit and was dead in the ditch. That’s one thing I hated about living so close to the road. We didn’t have a fenced-in yard at that time and lost a lot of dogs and cats to traffic over the years.

One of the greatest things about today’s camera technology is not having to buy film or pay for development of the pictures (unless you choose to print them out). Back then, film was used sparingly based upon one’s budget, but I wish we had a lot more photos of our youth. Millions of captured moments from our childhood are inside the vault of my mind. These are treasures that cannot be printed as photos but the events can be written about to share with others. Memories of our youth become more valuable as we age. Cherish the memories.

Until next time …

Throwback Thursday/Flashback Friday 1970

Original ad for our house 1970

I had planned to post this yesterday but the scanner wasn’t working properly.

This is the original ad for the house my parents bought in 1970. Hard to believe the price was only $13,900. But, minimum wage at the time was Roughly $1.60/hr. Financed through FHA, the payment was only $60.00/month.

The yard was a green barren area, but it didn’t take long for our father to plant more trees than was necessary. They were nice to climb and lovely to behold, but mowing around every … single … one with a push mower wasn’t the best way to spend a few hours. Ask my brother, Chris.

A house that becomes a home isn’t just a lot of lumber pieced together. A home is much more than that. Security. Warmth. A family working together and creating memorable moments. And if you’re really lucky, you’re blessed with love and respect for one another. None of these are guaranteed, however, and not all are required. We never possessed them all, and some of what we had, disappeared.

I have so many memories, good and bad, from spending most of my early life in this house. My imagination sprouted, and as I matured, my curiosity grew, too.

Behind this house was thirty acres of woods. Adjacent to that was Boykin’s Farm pastures (a couple hundred acres) with several ponds. This area teemed with places for a young boy to explore. My childhood days were before technology occupied and lured the mind (thankfully), and I spent hours outdoors every day. Back then, I got up before my parents and went outside barefoot. Often, during the summer months, my siblings and I stayed out well after dark. It was fun to see what insects were attracted to the porch light.

This was my first home. I cherish the memories. Even in my early fifties, my heart gets stirred and occasionally, I feel a slight tug calling me to visit. Not all the memories were great, but overall, I felt safety there.

Several years ago, when I went to Chattacon, we drove past the old place. A new family has it now, and most of the large oaks, maples, and sycamores are still standing. I can tell you about each tree and approximately the time our father planted them. Those tall trees were nice places to climb and hide on a warm breezy day. From the top, I could see several miles in each direction. I hope the new family has blessed memories in their future living there.

Home is where the heart is, and since what remains of this old homestead is in my mind, it’s no longer home. My home now is with my wonderful wife of twenty-six years, and we certainly hope our children and grandchildren have fond times to recall when they get older.

Until next time ….

Lady Squire Digital Copies at $0.99 This Weekend!

This weekend, my epic fantasy, Lady Squire, is promo priced at $.99 on #Kindle, #Nook, #Kobo, and Apple’s #iBooks. The sale ends on February 4th and the price returns to normal.

February Scifi/Fantasy eBook Promotion

EPIC FANTASY: 759 pages. Beware: There be DRAGONS.

To what end would a princess go to regain her rightful throne?

After a coup led by Lord Waxxon kills the beloved half-elf queen of Hoffnung, the Queen’s daughter, Lady Dawn—the rightful heir—is forced to disguise herself as a lowly squire. Chosen by Caen—one of Hoffnung’s faithful Dragon Skull Knights—they search Aetheaon to gather forces to end Waxxon’s hostile takeover.

Her identity must remain secret, even to the knight she serves. A lucrative bounty of gold has been set upon her head by Lord Waxxon. His ruthless henchmen, thieves, and bounty hunters scour Aetheaon to find her. But Lady Dawn’s not without hope.

Warriors, a wizard, and rulers from several races and kingdoms seek to find her before Waxxon’s bounty can be collected. And find her, they must, if ever she can rightfully reclaim Hoffnung’s throne.

Throwback Thursday: Fort Payne vs. Plainview

The first time our basketball team played Fort Payne High School was an experience I use today to inspire others to work hard, even when the odds don’t seem to be in our favor.

Plainview High School is a county school, and our team had never played Fort Payne High School since it was a city school. We were excited for the opportunity. The day we showed up at their gymnasium to play, we eyed our opponents. Immediately, the intimidation factor set in. The tallest player on our team was the same size as their shortest player. By appearance, it seemed we were playing kids several years older. Since they were a city school, they had a wider array of students to choose their team from. Being a county school, we had what we had.

At halftime, the scoreboard was ugly. We were behind by twenty point. Twenty. At no time had our team been in such a deficit. Of course, we never were in a David vs. Goliath game, either.

I expected Coach Terry Mitchell to chew us out in the locker room when he faced us. Instead, he was calm and simply asked a question: “Boys, are you afraid of them?”

He then said, “They’re just players. You can outplay them.”

Coach Mitchell looked at us a few moments before sharing his heartfelt sentiments. He said, “When I started coaching at Plainview, you boys were in the first grade. I told myself that you boys were the kids I’m taking to state. These are the ones. I’ve watched you grow up. Don’t let their size scare you. They’re players and you can beat them.”

No anger. No verbal promises of sprints and suicides. Openness and honesty. A coach telling us that he believed in us.

The second half of the game was different altogether. We were a different team with a renewed attitude. The vigor with which our top five played a stunned Fort Payne team. They were chasing us now. They weren’t able to predict our offense, and our defense increased. No longer did we show fear.

We lost the game by one point. One. But, they only scored three points during the second half. How much different would the game have been if we’d started the first half with that confidence? We learned a lot from that game. We learned the importance of teamwork and focusing on our talents and not to focus on the other team’s size. Height and muscle don’t equate ability.

Playing the game comes from the heart. So does living life. Obstacles stand between us and success. Focus on the goals, not the bumps in the road. Dedication to skill, persistence, and talent can get you to the goal. Don’t be intimidated and don’t give up. Keep pushing forward.

Until next time …

Friday’s Funny Memories #1

When my sister, Gina, and I were teenagers, an elderly couple from Maranatha Baptist Church picked us up on Wednesdays to take us to church. They were a wonderful couple and probably in their late 60s.

Gina and I rode in the backseat of the car. J.C. drove and his wife, Maria, sat beside him. Near Chavies, we rounded a curve, and Maria said, “Watch that hole, J.C.”

Instead of being a backseat driver, I’m guessing she was a passenger side driver. Frequently. Her comment irritated him.

“I see it!” he said, grumbly.

A second later: BAM!!!

The entire car shook and bounced. The hole was a small crater apparently, and the whole tire dropped into it and bounced up. Whether intentional or not on his part, I don’t know. But he came nowhere near to missing it.

Have you ever been in a situation when you don’t want to laugh, no matter how funny the situation seems? That was the situation my sister and I found ourselves in. Holding back laughter is difficult, and for some reason, it makes it far more difficult not to laugh.

She and I exchanged looks, snickered, and then commenced to holding our breath, trying not to laugh. We found it impossible to hold in and burst into laughter. The more we tried to stop, the more we laughed. For days after, we found ourselves still laughing.

All it took was for one of us to say, “I see it!”

BAM!!!

Maybe the incident shouldn’t have been so funny. I suppose it was the timing. Like a punch line. A second after his grumbling reply, he struck the hole.

The worst places to get tickled are in church or class, where you’re supposed to remain quiet. And this was one of those situations, as we weren’t laughing at him, but the irony of the situation.

Until next time ….

#ThrowBack Thursday! 1985 Graduation.

Me in the foreground. June 5th, 1985.

1985 was a magical year.

Graduating from Plainview High School was filled with bittersweet moments. In so many ways, we were ready to take on the world. In other ways, slight sadness stirred within me as I realized we weren’t coming back together the following year. This was also the last day I saw some of my friends since they moved away to pursue college goals in different states. Our lives were about to change, and this picture is a moment frozen in time that I cherish. Fond memories. Good times.

One of the greatest surprises on graduation night was seeing my older brother, David, after the ceremonies were over. I didn’t know he was coming, and it was a wonderful moment. His arrival more than made up (by 1000%) for my father not coming to see an important event in my life. Words cannot express my gratitude for David taking his time to share that night with me. My spirits were lifted.

In the background with the golden sash was my best friend from 1st grade until the 12th. Ed Rogers. We shared a lot of good times growing up. When I played basketball for Plainview, his family was generous enough to allow me to spend the night when our games were away. Otherwise, I’d never been able to play basketball, as my mother had no way to pick me up after those games. Ed’s father, Curtis, was a fantastic person. His whole family was. Curtis offered me fatherly advice because he knew my father had abandoned us. He offered me encouragement. There was a warmth in the Rogers’ family. Something I didn’t have at home, and all the more reason I enjoyed those nights when our basketball games were away.

Somehow, Ed and I lost connection after graduation. I left for Berea College, and he went to Auburn University. This photo was at one of the last times we saw one another. We got together at at least once with Alan Shankles, also in the picture, and Jeff Cole (not in the photo), during the summer before leaving for college. Jeff and Jody Higgins also went to Berea, so it made the transition of moving to Berea a lot easier.

We picture our futures before graduation, but seldom do those dreams come to fruition. College was where I met more wonderful friends and had some of the greatest professors that shaped my goals in different ways. I came to new crossroads where I had new decisions to make. I knew at an early age I wanted to be a novelist, but I loved biology (entomology in particular), too. I pursued my biology degree first and later a Masters in creative writing, meshing the two schools into fictional works. I’m thankful I did.

Sometimes, I see the old me in the picture and wish I could go back and shake myself with the knowledge I’ve gained over the years. But … you know what? If it meant losing what I have today by doing so, which no doubt, it would; I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be the person or writer I am today if not for all the bumps in the road. The betrayals by certain people shape us. The hardships toughen us. When pressed against the wall, you either crumble or come out swinging. I fought back. I fought the mental urge to give up when pressure from all sides tried to crush me. Surviving those oppressive times changed my perspectives and my goals. I became a better person.

Yep, a lot of bad things happened in the past. That’s where they’re buried. And despite all that, I’m pleased with the blessings I have today.

Until next time ….

LADY SQUIRE (Aetheaon Chronicles: Book Two) Pre-order

Release Date: January 12, 2019.

Lady Squire is the second book in the Aetheaon Chronicles. Check out the fantastic cover by Daniela Owergoor! She did a fantastic job.

Preorder universal link (all eBook formats): http://books2read.com/LadySquire

Book blurb:

“To what end would a princess go to regain her rightful throne?

After a coup led by Lord Waxxon kills the beloved half-elf queen of Hoffnung, Lady Dawn—the rightful heir—is forced to disguise herself as a lowly squire. Chosen by Caen—one of Hoffnung’s faithful Dragon Skull Knights—they search Aetheaon to gather forces to end Waxxon’s hostile takeover.

Her identity must remain secret, even to the knight she serves. A lucrative bounty of gold has been set upon her head by Lord Waxxon. His ruthless henchmen, thieves, and bounty hunters scour Aetheaon to find her. But Lady Dawn’s not without hope.

Warriors, a wizard, and rulers from several races and kingdoms seek to find her before Waxxon’s bounty can be collected. And find her, they must, if ever she can rightfully reclaim Hoffnung’s throne.”

Books 3 & 4 Preorders will be announced soon, but are releasing in 2019.