Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene's Blog, page 62
February 18, 2020
Wednesday Writing — #Review Speak Flapper, and more
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
Yesterday, Marcia Meara shared a review of my non-fiction book “Speak Flapper – Slang of the 1920s.” I was both thrilled and humbled to have this wonderful review from Fiza Pathan. I hope you’ll check out her blog, The Insane Owl.
It’s Tuesday again, folks, and time to welcome our guest of the day, Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene. Teagan is sharing a review of her book, Speak Flapper – Slang of the 1920s, and I know you’ll enjoy reading about this one. I’ve always been fascinated with the decade, myself, and I have this book coming up […]
It was firmly instilled in me as a child that I should never, not even look like I was about to, say something good about myslef. So, you can’t imagine how hard this post full of crowing is for me. But I will blush beyond pink and continue… It really is a little traumatic to do this. This year I’ve released two small books, and I’m so grateful that they both have been well received. I have to express that gratitude.
I just found another review for Speak Flapper at Amazon UK, from Beem Weeks. I’m really glad I decided to let everyone see the eight years of work I spent collecting that information.
I’m also tickled pink that Fiona Finch and the Pink Valentine got three reviews! Writing and publishing the novelette was whirlwind fast, so I didn’t expect any reviews. However, there are reviews from D. Wallace Peach, Robbie Cheadle and Priscilla Bettis
I’m still on cloud nine! Still doing the Snoopy dance. Have a wonderful, and an easy coast down the other side of the midweek hump. Hugs on the wing!
February 14, 2020
The Delta Pearl 24 — Walk
Saturday, February 15, 2020
Hello, my chuckaboos! I hope everyone had a wonderful week and a lovely Valentine’s Day too. Romance aside, it makes a good excuse to show gratitude for our friends.
I was beginning to wonder if I’d make it to the riverbank today, but I did, and the #steampunk riverboat is here! However, with my other works in progress, I didn’t use any reader things today. I only made a few revisions to this chapter of the re-write of The Delta Pearl.
Are you ready?
All aboard!
The Delta Pearl
Chapter 24 — Walk
[image error]Pixabay
Walking around the upper decks of the riverboat, I scanned every high perch. I checked each hidey-hole and nook the clockwork owl liked to use. Yet I didn’t see Onyx anywhere. While it wasn’t exactly unusual for him to be scarce, I was beginning to be concerned.
“Should I ask he Captain?” I muttered to myself, as I squinted up at the flag poles.
Captain Cecil Perlog was convalescing after his exposure to the poison gas. The attack had ruined my sweet sixteen party. I didn’t care about my birthday, I only cared about the Captain.
However, I was none the wiser about the strange sooty cloud and the glimpse I had of what it concealed. There was no point even trying to get the Dealer to divulge anything. Whenever I tried to ask the Captain, Agate shooed me out of his quarters. Although I could tell by the expression in the Cook’s eyes that she knew about whatever it was.
The Cook had an office on the same deck as the kitchens. However, it was much farther down the riverboat, so that it was away from the noise. Agate always said the peace and quiet was invaluable when she was working on the account books or planning a difficult menu.
Garnet bustled toward me with a polite nod. I stepped out in front of him to learn the reason why he was in such a hurry.
“Hey, Chief Porter. What’s your rush?”
“The Captain ordered an all hands meeting all of a sudden. Émeraude. Or at least it’s for the Delta Pearl’s senior staff. That’s all I know,” he told me, barely stopping.
In the past, they said I was too young for the senior meetings. I had not thought to ask if my milestone birthday made any difference.
“As they say,” I murmured. “It’s easier to apologize later…”
I decided to drop in on Agate to see if she needed any help. I didn’t know if refreshments were meant to be provided. If so, on such short notice, I was sure the Cook could use an extra pair of hands. That might also be the excuse that got me into the meeting.
[image error]Victorian woman Eavesdropping, by Knut Ekwall-Frieriet, Wikipedia
When I got there, I found the office door closed. That tended to mean the Cook was not in her office. I raised my hand to knock on the door, just in case she was there. The unexpected sound of the Captain’s booming voice met my ears.
It was not that Cecil Perlog was a man who tended to yell. Not at all, in contrast to his great size, he was most gentle in his manner. However, the Captain had a large voice to fit his frame, moreover it was a voice that carried. I often wondered what kind of opera singer the man would have made.
Since the door closed, the meeting was clearly private. I was about to walk away. With one foot already turned to leave, I heard my name spoken. Tell me now — who would resist the temptation to listen after hearing their own name? I was certainly not so perfect that I would leave without at least hearing the context in which my name was used. I lowered the hand that had been poised to knock.
I could hear very little of what Agate said if she spoke in a normal voice. Hearing the Captain was an entirely different matter. The cook said something, but I couldn’t make out any of her words. However, her tone suggested that she disagreed with the Captain and felt whatever was being discussed was of no great concern.
“Aggie how could you do such a thing?” I heard the Captain say loud and clear. “No good can come of it. You’ll only cause the girl pain. Now I won’t stand for you meddling with things like that. Not when it comes to Émeraude.”
Agate didn’t exactly sound angry when she spoke, but she was intense enough that her voice rose, making it easy for me to hear what she said in return.
“Cecil Perlog! I’m not aboot to expect a man to understand, but are you blind?” the Cook declared heatedly. “Have you never noticed that Émeraude has never been in love?”
[image error]Composite Wikipedia & Pixabay images by Teagan
Her words caused me to draw back in shock. That was not any sort of conversation I ever expected to hear. How could they discuss me and such a personal thing? Then even worse, I realized Agate was right. I had never been in love.
I felt like a boat run aground with a big hole torn in its hull. My mouth was probably gaping like a fish stranded out of water. I was aware of moving my lips, but not of speaking any words.
“You can’t know that Émeraude loves this man. Hell’s bells woman! She couldn’t even know it herself in so short a time,” the Captain retorted.
“Well now, that’s just the point, isn’t it?” Agate told him and his muffled muttering sounds told me he didn’t expect her to say that. “I put the two of those ducklings together to make sure they had a proper chance to see if they was interested in one another, didna I?”
Put together? I groaned but they were too deep in their argument to hear me. First Agate ferreted out my crush on Dr. Elam and then she contrived to put us together in the kitchen the next morning. The Cook and the Captain were certainly discussing me and Victor Elam. I wanted to burst into Agate’s office and give them both a piece of my mind, but I was too stunned to move.
“How can you think any good can come of such a thing, Aggie?” the Captain admonished the Cook. “What if she does fall in love with that inventor? He’ll leave eventually! Even if he extends his voyage, sooner or later he will leave the Delta Pearl, and leave Émeraude behind too.”
“Tell me Cecil Perlog,” Agate said sternly. “Is what’s really got you in a state the fact that you’re afraid Emmie will leave the Delta Pearl with him?”
[image error]Grandma’s Cameo by Dan Antion
“The Delta Pearl probably would not let her leave!” the Captain exclaimed. “Think about it, Agate. How many of the Pearl’s chosen have left, and under what dire circumstance? The Delta Pearl chose Émeraude for one of her own, and then damn if that portrait didn’t claim her too. How else do you think that cameo made its way into the girl’s hands?”
I barely heard the question that Agate so fiercely put to the Captain. Neither did his reply make its way into my consciousness. The Captain had not said anything that I didn’t already know. No, my thoughts had already been absorbed by internal conflict.
I had not thought about whether I might love Victor Elam. I had never thought beyond the attraction I felt.
However, I knew the Captain was right. My family was the crew of the Delta Pearl. At least it was the only family I wanted. Yet, the idea that I might not have the freedom to choose whether I left or stayed… what a sensation of emptiness I suddenly felt!
Silently, I walked away from the door.
***
End Chapter 24
***
Still no sign of Onyx. We’re reminded of that mysterious and very old portrait… the one that almost seemed to breathe. That was all the way back in Chapter 1. Plus, now Émeraude has her own issues to think about… Thanks for visiting. I hope you’ll leave a comment to say hello, before you leave, my chuckaboos.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 and 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
New from Teri Polen — Subject A36 Release Day! #YA #scifi #NewRelease #dystopian
[image error]
Happy Valentine’s Day, one and all! I didn’t plan to be here today, but I wanted to drop in at least long enough to share about this book from Teri Polen. I’ve been eagerly following her progress toward publishing it.
Comments are closed here, because I want you to visit Teri at her great blog. Click the link below.
It’s finally here – Subject A36 has been released into the world! The blog tour continues through tomorrow (schedule below) – make sure to register for the giveaway. Thanks to all of you who have shared on your social media, commented on blogs, and dropped by to read excerpts and get to know my characters […]
Click this link. >> via Subject A36 Release Day! #YA #scifi #NewRelease #dystopian — Books and Such
Your Valentine will be delighted to get Teri’s exciting book. Hugs on the wing!
Teagan
[image error]Click >> relinks.me/B084NZFZ14
February 13, 2020
Happy Valentine’s Day (Early)
Thursday, February 13, 2020
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Yes, that’s little early, but I won’t be here tomorrow.
[image error]
Yes, my chuckaboos, I’m back again. I had so much fun creating this novelette, that I just can’t help sharing it again.
There’s a nice long snippet from the beginning last week. So I’m only sharing a tiny bit right now.
Tidbit
“Shoo, Quellie! Shoo. Get out from under foot,” I told the duck, and shook my skirt at her…
“Fiona… What have you done to those wonderful cherries?” my brother asked in a resigned tone. “And where is Quellie? I thought she had caused your caterwauling.”
“Heaven knows. What difference does it make, as long as the dreadful duck is out of the kitchen?” I replied.
“Here, let me do that. You’ve made too big of a pot. At least the dye has cooled down now,” Steele commented.
Thrilled quacking and squawking ensued when Steele poured the warm cherry water. The duck fluttered up to the counter and landed in the rosy waterfall of juice. Pink splashes coated half the kitchen as Quellie happily flapped in the basin. Steele and I were also covered with cherry splatter.
***
I made a video trailer for this whimsical steampunk-Victorian tale.
This valentine includes more than an hour of fun (depending on how fast you read). The e-book is just 99 cents. Universal link to e-book. Or try https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084NZFZ14?tag=relinks-20
The paperback is available now, but not in time for Valentine’s Day… Universal link to paperback.
[image error]Fiona Finch & the Pink Valentine, Cover also by Teagan R. Geneviene
Comments are closed today, because you’ve been so kind to leave a comment earlier this week. I love hearing from you, but worry about being a bother. I’m also working on this weekend’s chapter of The Delta Pearl, which appears here, free, each week.
Cheers, my chuckaboos! Happy Valentine’s Day, just a little early. Hugs on the wing!
***
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 and 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
February 11, 2020
Hidebound #Valentine — #NewBook
Wednesday, February 12, 2020
Yes, it’s finally Hump Day, my chuckaboos! There are two reasons why I’m posting on two consecutive days. One, for those of you who would only find me on Wednesdays, I had to share this fun. Two, if you were disappointed yesterday that there was no paperback, well Amazon finally got it ready. Paperback Universal Link: relinks.me/B084P73L4C
Kindle: relinks.me/B084NZFZ14
I wouldn’t want anyone to feel obliged to comment so many times in one week, so I have disabled comments here. If you haven’t said hello, then I hope you’ll please click through to Tuesday’s post. Lots of fun is happening there!
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Tuesday, February 11, 2020 Don’t look at your calendar, my chuckaboos. You’re right, this is not Wednesday. I couldn’t wait to let you know that I have a new novelette. With your encouragement, I finished the story I told you about last week! I even made a video trailer for this whimsical steampunk-Victorian tale. People […]
#NewBook! #Valentine
Tuesday, February 11, 2020
Don’t look at your calendar, my chuckaboos. You’re right, this is not Wednesday. I couldn’t wait to let you know that I have a new novelette. With your encouragement, I finished the story I told you about last week!
I even made a video trailer for this whimsical steampunk-Victorian tale.
People in the Steam Era sent valentines to friends as well as family and lovers. The darn things cost a small fortune these days. How often do you see a charming valentine for just 99 cents? Not to mention that this valentine includes more than an hour of fun (depending on how fast you read). As of this writing, Amazon has not yet released the paperback, but the Kindle version is ready. Universal link to e-book. Or try https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084NZFZ14?tag=relinks-20
[image error]Fiona Finch & the Pink Valentine, Cover also by Teagan R. Geneviene
Put your feet up and enjoy a whimsical break with this quick, lighthearted story. There’s some romance, and a lot of silliness. This is a tale of an old lost valentine and the shenanigans that ensue when it turns up. Fiona Finch and her brother Steele – along with a helping “wing” from Quellie the duck, work to bring two long ago sweethearts back together. Even though it is a Valentine’s Day story, it does not include sex or passionate romance. It does, however, include a lot of imaginative fun.
My post last week included a generous snippet, so I’ll only share a tidbit today.
Tidbit
There was a bit of drizzle that might well become a harder rain. However, that wasn’t my reason for picking up the special umbrella Steele had created.
I opened my French doors and stepped out onto the balcony and looked down at the street forty feet below. The trolley was very near. I climbed over the railing. When I pressed the little catch, the umbrella opened. I shifted a lever near the top. Propellers lifted up from the fabric and started to spin. I jumped away from the balcony and…
***
Quellie is “in the pink” and tries to take over for Cupid
[image error]Composite Image by Teagan Geneviene (Pixabay and Wikipedia)
Thanks for visiting. Hugs on the wing!
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
February 7, 2020
The Delta Pearl 23 — Bruise
Saturday, February 8, 2020
[image error]Cactus in the Snow, by Teagan R. Geneviene
Hello, my chuckaboos! Welcome back to the #steampunk riverboat. Many of you know that I’m way down in the desert southwest of the USA. I’m not in the mountains, but it is still a high altitude. We got snow this week. I promised a couple of you a picture of “cactus in the snow,” so here’s my little cactus garden.
Now, I’m getting right to business, because I’m still working on the little Valentine’s Day project I mentioned in my midweek post. I hope you’ll enjoy this quick episode of The Delta Pearl.
All aboard!
The Delta Pearl
Chapter 23 — Bruise
[image error]Robert Redford in Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid, 1969, as Garnet
Garnet Redford, the Chief Porter was preparing a task list for his staff. He put a check mark beside something, then aggressively crossed it out and wrote something instead. I had never seen Garnet get the morbs, so I had to wonder what could be bothering him.
“Good morning Chief Porter,” I said in a cheery voice, but he only muttered in return. “Is there anything I could help you with? I realize we have a rather difficult group of passengers this voyage.”
I plopped down in the chair that was next to him. Or at least, I plopped as much as my bustle would allow. I propped my chin on my fist and tried to casually get a look at what he was writing.
He grumbled something that included the words “No, thank you.” Garnet acted as if he didn’t want to make eye contact with me. I found that terribly strange, so of course that made me determined to further the exchange.
“Maybe something from the kitchen would cheer you up. I know you have a sweet tooth. Agate made beignets for the ZASH-pa,” I suggested, hoping my imitation of the New Orleans accent would cheer him.
“You know, Jaspe ― the Dealer?” I added when his expression didn’t change a whit.
[image error]Beignets, Wikipedia
“I don’t need any confounded sweets,” he shot back, and that time he looked up at me.
“Egad!” I blurted out in astonishment. “That’s quite a shiner. What happened?”
That black eye certainly explained his grumpy manner. Not only would he have a headache, he would also have a wound to his pride. Garnet threw his pencil down on the desk. He looked at me furiously. However, he took a deep breath and composed himself. He sagged back down onto his chair.
“I was foolish, not paying any attention. I should’ve seen the blasted thing on the deck. Whoever left it there― When I find out who left that thing, they’ll be lucky if I don’t throw them overboard. Walking the plank was a sorely underrated punishment,” the Chief Porter ranted.
“What?” I implored, trying to keep a calm tone, but his anger was contagious.
“A banana peel!” he exclaimed. “Some miscreant left a banana peel on the deck and like a bumbling fool, I slipped on the blasted thing! When I find out which one of the deckhands put it there…”
He reasoned the deckhands were known for playing the occasional harmless prank on the porters. However, none of the senior crew would have thought intentionally causing someone to slip and fall was harmless. Particularly when a passenger might have been as likely a victim as a staff member.
However, I knew the banana peel was not left by a deck hand.
“Try and forget about it, Garnet. I’ve already picked up one banana peel, and I caught the miscreant as you so rightly termed it. It was not a deckhand or any other crew member,” I told him.
I didn’t even have to add that the prankster was cherubic-looking Hershel Harvey. The Chief Porter knew as soon as I started to speak. The child’s reputation had quickly spread throughout the Delta Pearl.
[image error]Banana peel, Wikipedia
“We’re stuck with the brat then,” Garnet grumbled. “A passenger would have to do something outrageously harmful for the Captain to intervene. Or something illegal… or something like a woman running away from her husband and having amorous congress with another woman,” the Chief Porter added with a sidelong look.
Balderdash! So, he at least had a suspicion about Azalea Morton and her supposed charge, Alex Rice. The boy was actually the runaway bride, Alison Ritchie. Was their secret in danger? Ordinarily, I thought Garnet would ignore the two women flaunting convention, as long as they were discrete. Yet, considering how upset he was about Hershel Harvey, he might not be as tolerant.
I made a point of keeping the conversation on the horrible brat, Hershel.
“Maybe if the Captain had some kind of evidence, or if another passenger came forward,” Garnet started. “But that would mean allowing a guest to get hurt, when we could stop it before it happened by doing something about the boy.”
“When I slipped on a puddle of oil and fell off the Hurricane deck, and the Captain pulled me back over the railing,” I began.
“I wasn’t present, but I do remember how angry the Captain was. Not to mention how Agate set into the Cadet, blaming him for that oil not getting cleaned up,” Garnet interjected.
“I heard someone giggling before the Captain and Agate got there. I’ve always suspected that Hershel put the oil there. But I didn’t see him, so I’ve never mentioned what I suspect,” I told him.
“The Captain uses his clockwork owl to help keep an eye on things. Maybe we could get Onyx to spy on the boy,” Garnet said as if thinking aloud.
Again, I wondered where the clockwork owl might be.
[image error]Pixabay
***
End Chapter 23
***
Yes, where could Onyx be? We’ve been missing the clockwork owl for awhile now. I think he’s a self-sufficient little thing. Or at least I hope so, because other problems are coming to a head. Thanks for visiting. I hope you’ll leave a comment to say hello, before you leave, my chuckaboos.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 and 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
February 4, 2020
Wednesday Writing — Valentine Pondering
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
The second month of the year has already begun. I feel like I completely missed Christmas and New Years… and the whole month of January for that matter. I guess a long collie shangle with the “everything flu” will do that to you. It tore me down physically and emotionally.
[image error]Pixaby
Despite the speed with which February arrived, somehow (for once) I managed to remember Valentine’s Day soon enough that I should be able to write a story for it. Several years I wrote a short-short story for the occasion. Other years I didn’t think about the day in time to do even that. Admittedly, I’m not a romantic person… Ha! I suppose my so-called Valentine’s stories have attested to that fact.
Anyhow, last week I got ambitious and started what I hoped would be a short novella for my Fiona Finch steampunk character. She has been waiting for her own book for a couple of years now. But you know me and my false starts — I’ll be lucky to make a short story of it, forget about a novella. I’m only around 2500 words into it. So, I made a book cover to encourage myself.
I didn’t think I would be up to doing a post today, and I can’t truthfully say that everything is ducky. However, I suddenly decided to share a snippet from this work in progress (and hope that I finish it). Here’s the beginning…
[image error]Fiona Finch & the Pink Valentine, Cover also by Teagan R. Geneviene
In the Pink
Frothy pink bubbles boiled merrily as the cherries cooked. The kitchen was usually the domain of my adopted brother, Steele. Contrary to what was expected of my gender, I had no interest in being domestically proficient. However, I was feeling inspired.
I tied-on my pink gingham apron and pinned back the pink ruffled sleeves of my gown. Then I settled myself, bustle and all, onto a brass swivel stool. My mouth twisted as I noted the uncomfortable height of the counter.
Of course, Steele was the last to use the stool and he was quite tall. I pressed the foot-pedal to raise the seat to a height that fit my much shorter person. Steele had a knack for tinkering-up unusual things and was the creator of the stools and many other little marvels in our home.
The liquid was ready to be strained off the cherries, but the pot was heavy for me to lift and I feared dropping it. Inspiration struck when I noticed the octopod Steele had just repaired. It was a metal sphere with eight legs, some of which ended in movable pincers. He created it to pick up things from the bottom of the koi pond in the garden.
I giggled as the octopod bubbled around the bottom of the pot, collecting cherry pits. Steele might not like my use of his clockwork octopus, and he would complain that I had ruined the fruit. All I wanted was the beautiful blushing liquid.
Yes, I have a penchant for pink. I simply can’t get enough of it.
[image error]Peking Duck, Wikipedia
“All anyone can think about is mauve and mauvine,” I complained to myself. “It’s getting hard to find a perfectly pretty pink.”
A loud quack answered me. I jumped half out of my skin. It was Steele’s dratted duck. Damfino what possessed his mentor, Professor Quirinius Quelch, to give the duck to my brother. She was a nuisance as far as I was concerned. She was always following one of us, and all too often that “one” was me.
My brother had taught her a few tricks. She’d do anything for a treat. However, teaching her to open drawers was just asking for trouble. She was always getting into things and places where a duck had no business being.
Although I admit that a duck fetching the mail was cute, but it was unnecessary. Steele had invented and installed a system of pneumatic tubes throughout the house. The tubes propelled cylindrical containers (and whatever they held) by compressed air.
“Land sakes, Steele! Your duck is loose in the house again. Get this nasty bird out of here!” I yelled, but got no reply.
“Shoo, Quellie! Shoo. Get out from under foot,” I told the duck, and shook my skirt at her.
I had mischievously named the quacker “Quellie” after the professor. However, the moniker stuck.
“Fiona, what have you done to those wonderful cherries?” my brother demanded in a resigned tone. “And where is Quellie? I thought she had caused your caterwauling.”
***
The chapter continues, but that’s the end of the snippet
***
Now, if you know me at all, then you already expect some kind of hijinx from that duck. No, I don’t intend this to be another serial. I’m not sure what I plan, but I shared part of it anyway…
Thanks for visiting. Hugs on the wing!
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
January 31, 2020
The Delta Pearl 22 — Buy
Saturday, February 1, 2020
[image error]Waddesdon Manor Victorian Dining Room by Mike Fear, Wikipedia
Welcome to one of the dining areas in my #steampunk riverboat, my chuckaboos. Serve yourself brunch at the buffet and enjoy another chapter of The Delta Pearl.
I’m no grammar prude. I enjoy new and even made-up words, and creative use of language. “Soapy” is a word I’ve been seeing creatively used to describe some TV shows. This chapter is a little soapy.
Random Reader Things. Remember, this serial is a re-write. In the original version, “Montreal” was a random reader thing. That is used today. This chapter’s new random things have been waiting in the wings of my story matrix for weeks. First we have salt shakers from Teri Polen. Second, and it’s been a long time since she was on the riverboat, but I used mesh purse from JT Twissel. Third, he used the word it in a comment, but when Christoph Fischer mentioned torn, I thought it would make a great thing. Read on to see how these random things became part of the story.
All aboard!
The Delta Pearl
Chapter 22 — Buy
[image error]The Buffet Jean-Louis Forain 1884 Wikipedia
Light sparkled gently, reflecting from hundreds of crystal teardrops on the chandelier. The illumination was pleasing, rather than bright. We lit the chandelier even during the daytime, simply because it was so lovely. I admired the beauty of the lights as I sat at the harpsichord across the room.
The harpsichord itself was a work of art. I could see myself in its polished surface as easily as if it were a mirror. Swirling patterns in the burled wood reminded me of Van Gogh’s The Starry Night.
The Captain said I “played by ear.” I had no formal education in music, I just played. Jaspe and Agate both said the Delta Pearl gave me the music, the ability to play.
I supposed they were right. I had no idea from where the ability to play could have come. If it did come from the Pearl, she only gave me a talent for the harpsichord and piano. I couldn’t play anything else, not even Blue John’s ukulele. A little background music was the extent of my ability.
The harpsichord was in a dining area where brunch was being served in a buffet style. Agate had decorated the area to resemble a garden party. An enormous red umbrella was erected over the buffet tables. Flowers in white and yellow were placed between pepper and salt shakers. A fringe of white daisies trimmed the big red umbrella. Little nosegays of daisies waited, ready to be given to the diners as they came into the room.
[image error]Antique crystal cruet set Wikipedia
Diners helped themselves from serving dishes that shone brightly, with little warming candles flickering beneath. The buffet offered a variety of food delights, like bacon-egg cups, vegetable soup, parmesan crusted chicken, banana bread, and the Captain’s favorite, southern buttermilk biscuits.
That day I felt the mood to play my music. Only a few passengers were in the room, else I wouldn’t have been bold enough to play. I seated myself at the harpsichord. I looked again at the lovely chandelier. I cleared my mind. I placed my fingers on the keyboard and waited for a song to come to me.
Mrs. Eliza Needleman entered the room. I almost abandoned the instrument, feeling shy in the presence of a prominent guest. However, she didn’t seem to notice me or the harpsichord in the back of the room, so I played, albeit quietly.
The entrepreneur’s wife seated herself without getting anything to eat. She removed a small mesh purse from her wrist and settled into the chair.
I expected she was waiting for her husband. She looked decidedly bored. I wondered how often she found herself alone in a public place and waiting for her husband.
Yet as she sat, a whimsical twist came to her mouth and she pinned the daisy nosegay into her broad brimmed hat. The simple daisies rested amid fancy feathers and silk flowers. However, the contrast was actually pleasing to the eye.
My fingers started to move across the keys to a tune that had been popular for quite some time, A Bird in a Gilded Cage. So lost was I in my music that I didn’t hear the footsteps of Mrs. Eliza Needleman when she walked up to the harpsichord and began to sing.
“She’s only a bird in a gilded cage, a beautiful sight to see,” Mrs. Needleman sang, just as I started to play the chorus.
[image error]Yvonne et Christine Lerolle au piano Pierre Auguste Renoir 1897 Wikipedia
I stumbled on the notes, not expecting to hear a vocalist beside me. Frankly, I was a very poor accompanist. I could play well enough as a soloist, but it was much harder for me to play for singers. I was a disaster.
Eliza Needleman had a surprisingly fine voice, and she deserved a better player. However, the wealthy lady was generous with the patience she showed me. After a few fumbles I improved and we finished the entire song.
“We make a rather good team, if I say so myself,” Mrs. Eliza Needleman told me in a playful tone.
I laughed and agreed.
“It’s a perfect song for a harpsichord, and your voice is simply lovely,” I gave a sincere compliment.
Mr. Needleman’s absence again registered with me. While the lady and I served ourselves some brunch she mentioned that her husband was likely “chasing business,” as she put it. I could tell that she was trying to ignore the fact that he failed to show up for their dining appointment. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“I hope I’m not being too forward, but does he often do that? Chase business, I mean. I have trouble imagining commerce at such a high level. Compared to what Mr. Needleman does, riverboats are simple enterprises,” I commented.
“Randal Needleman is a self-made man,” Mrs. Needleman told me in a matter of fact tone.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” I apologized, suddenly thinking about how prejudiced upper-crust types could be about people born to riches and power versus those who had started from less wealthy beginnings.
“Not at all, my dear. I don’t tend to dwell on things of status. My mind is usually on more important things, like women’s rights to choose what happens to our own bodies, and the right to vote in elections. Not to mention financial matters,” she began.
Mrs. Needleman paused. She remarked on the bacon-egg cups then put one on her plate. She lifted her eyebrows as an inquiry, and when I nodded, she placed one on my plate.
[image error]Tea by Mary Cassatt, 1880 Wikipedia
“That scandal that’s all over the newspapers lately about the runaway bride whose husband managed to take over all her inheritance and finances. Those things are much more important than the superficial status of whether wealth was earned or inherited,” she stated firmly.
I gulped. She meant Azalea and Alison, who boarded the Delta Pearl disguised as a governess and a teenaged boy. I was relieved when Mrs. Needleman began to chuckle.
My smile may have been a bit tentative. Hopefully she thought that I simply had not expected such an ardent response.
“Ha! I apologize for jumping up onto my soapbox. What I meant to say is that contrary to feeling diminished by my husband being a self-made man, I am proud of his achievements. Though I do admit that it’s tiresome that the man’s work also seems to be his recreation. However, I have long since gotten accustomed to that. Besides, it allows me time to pursue my own causes,” she added with a smile.
“Where are you from, Mrs. Needleman? Something tells me that you did not grow up in the same city as your husband,” I began.
“Oh no dear, and please, do call me Eliza,” she insisted. “We were not childhood sweethearts or anything romantic. Although when I met Randal, he did manage to sweep me off my feet, mind you,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes. “No, my husband is from Pennsylvania while I am originally from Montreal, Canada. My father’s parents were of the aristocracy in England. Their fortunes were blessed when they immigrated to Canada and got into the shipping business. My father grew that business to include paddle steamers. And that is what brought Randal and me together,” she told me and then took a bite of the bacon-egg cup. “Um. Oh my, your chef is quite talented. Um,” she mumbled around the bite of food with a white linen napkin placed against her mouth.
[image error]Original photo by Dan Antion . Tomfoolery by Teagan
“I will relay that to Agate,” I told her with a pleased smile. “I thought Mr. Needleman was in the steel trade, particularly being from Pennsylvania,” I said.
“Indeed, but that is only one of his businesses. He is also involved in the building of steam ships. Randal was quite fascinated with the tales he heard of the Delta Pearl. Actually, he surprised even me by saying he wants to buy this riverboat.”
My eyes must have looked like they would pop right out of my head. Eliza Needleman chuckled and waved her hand as if to dismiss the idea. Her chuckle became a hearty laugh.
“The Captain…” I began, but couldn’t think how to continue.
“I’m so glad Jaspe told me he is doing well and will soon be back on duty,” she said, smoothly using the New Orleans pronunciation, ZASH-pah.
“Ha! Your captain is an extraordinary man! Immovable object meets unstoppable force! It was most entertaining to watch him and Randal together. My husband swore grandly that he ‘would not give up on purchasing this riverine treasure you call the Delta Pearl.’ Randal Needleman is not accustomed to being thwarted in business dealings, mind you,” she added in a tone that suggested she was entertained by seeing her husband turned down in a business offer.
She took a sip of a sparkling mimosa before continuing. The bite I had taken from a biscuit, when she brought up the idea of buying the Delta Pearl, still hung in my throat. I hastily washed it down with lemonade.
“Then your captain stood up, making silent use of his massive height and broad shoulders. My God, he is an attractive, virile man!” Eliza Needleman enthused.
“The Captain?” I choked as I exclaimed in shock.
“I don’t know how you can resist! Living on a vessel with such exquisite men. Your Chief Porter for example. Truly classically handsome. Garnet, I believe they called him? Yes, a suitable name for such a gem to behold. Yet he doesn’t hold a candle to the Captain and that Dealer. Two such different but equally delicious men. My heart would be torn between them if I were a young woman and had to choose!” Eliza exclaimed causing me to blush at her audacious comment.
[image error]Portrait by Edouard Bisson, 1895 Wikipedia
“I can see how one would find the Dealer handsome. He is so elegant and graceful. But the Captain?” I sputtered.
“My dear, are you blind?” she asked.
Eliza laughed all the harder at my reaction. I knew she was being intentionally audacious. She meant to be comical, even though she was serious in thinking the men were attractive.
“I suppose it’s that they are in essence my family. The crew of the Delta Pearl sort of adopted me when I was very young,” I confessed. “Beauty must really be in the eye of the beholder, but, truly? The Captain?”
Eliza’s chuckles trailed away when she turned her gaze to the buffet table. Another small group of passengers moved along the buffet line. Her eyes lingered on the tall man with the unattractive facial hair. His mustache grew into his bushy sideburns. It was Benjamin Dundas.
In all the drama that ruined my sweet sixteen party, I had forgotten that Victor and I saw Dundas skulk away from the brown cloud with something in his arms. Something about his posture made it seem like he might have been up inside the smoggy cloud and had just gotten back onto the deck. Although that was surely impossible.
“I really do try not to judge, Émeraude, but that man seems rather disreputable. Frankly I’m a little surprised he was allowed on this ship,” Eliza said of Dundas.
“The Captain makes sure passengers are screened,” I began. “But I have to agree with you. Something about him bothered me from the moment I laid eyes on him. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, and that bothered me even more than his mustache and sideburns. However, you needn’t worry. The crew has instructions to keep an eye on him.”
“There is something that I can’t quite put my finger on,” Eliza continued, and fidgeted with the huge Pharaoh Diamond at her throat. “I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere before. He may have had some dealings with my husband in the past, though I can’t for the life of me think what it was. I brought it up to Randal, and he said he had no memory of ever meeting the man.”
I enjoyed getting to know Mrs. Needleman better. Eliza, I corrected myself, feeling pleased, because I found her inspiring. However, I had found her assertion that the Captain was “virile and attractive” so shocking and amusing that I didn’t start feeling uneasy about something else she said until later.
When Randal Needleman boarded the riverboat, I had secretly dubbed “the dubious dabbler.” Could he seriously want to buy the Delta Pearl? How ruthless might he be in what he would see as an insignificant business acquisition?
[image error]Original photo by Dan Antion, tomfoolery by Teagan
As I walked along the narrow deck, I wished I could have the Dealer’s insight. However, I had to get to my station. I looked skyward, hoping for a glimpse of bronze clockwork wings. However, I only saw white clouds.
“I should use Onyx to send Jaspe a note,” I muttered.
Suddenly, I realized that I had not seen the clockwork owl for quite some time.
***
End Chapter 22
***
Thanks for reading. I love your comments. Be sure to stop and say hello. I’ll see you at the riverbank next weekend, my chuckaboos!
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 and 2019 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
January 28, 2020
Wednesday Books — Roberta Cheadle, Through the Nethergate #RRBC #Bookreview
Wednesday, January, 29, 2020
[image error]Crystal had to hide under the covers to read a horror story.
Welcome to the first installment of Wednesday Books!
This post begins a new quarterly feature for Teagan’s Books. I’m not a book reviewer. Although I post a few at Amazon and Goodreads, I never do “real” reviews. However, when I recently bought my membership to the Rave Reviews Book Club (RRBC) I agreed to do four book reviews, of books from their catalog. So I’ll do my version of a “review.”
You may ask why I say I don’t do real reviews — 1) I don’t do the book summary or tell much about the book, beyond some things I liked or thought were important. 2) I do not rank books with stars, hearts, mermaids or anything else. Why? While reviews are essential to sales and to morale, ranking is harmful — because it is arbitrary. I saw how absurd it can be when someone wrote an absolutely glowing review. The words were so positive that I didn’t even notice that it was only four stars. …Until they apologized. “I’m sorry, but I only give 5-star reviews to ____,” their favorite, long-dead author. From that moment, I realized the rankings were meaningless. Now I’ll step down from my Julia Sugarbaker soapbox and get back to the point.
For the first book in this new feature I stepped somewhat outside my preferred fantasy genre and went to a horror book. You might already be familiar with Roberta Eaton Cheadle — known to many of us as Robbie, from her blog about children’s books and baking, Robbie’s Inspiration. Since I’m not a real reviewer, I thought it would be fun to ask Robbie a couple of questions along with the required review.
[image error]Roberta Cheadle, background by Pixabay, altered by Teagan
Questions for Robbie
1) Why ghosts? Of all the horror and/or supernatural beings and critters, why did you choose ghosts?
I have always liked ghosts as they have a sophistication and elegance that you don’t find in demons, werewolves, and other mythical creatures, which are quite crude in their killings and often eat their victims. I like the fact that they were previously human and usually have interesting and often tragic back stories. I am a big history buff so I enjoy finding out the little bits of information about each ghost’s past and the putting it all together as a fictionalised story.
The other reason I used ghosts is that it is reasonable to believe that a good person who dies badly, and chooses not to ascend to the afterlife, could later seek redemption and regret their choice. This is the concept I exploited in Through the Nethergate. It is also reasonable to assume that bad people might enjoy their ghostly life and not wish to make changes. The idea of the ghosts reincarnating is not a concept I can recall coming across anywhere else, but that is not to say that it isn’t out there somewhere. I enjoyed the idea that the ghosts could regain certain human characteristics allowing them much great and more deadly powers while still retaining some “ghostly” powers.
2) I like it when books with young protagonists have some “parental” or familial guardian character. What inspired you to use Margaret’s grandfather?
That is actually a good question, Teagan. I do believe that Steve Baker is a lot like my father, Dean. He has the same open mindedness about unusual activities and circumstances. My father introduced me to Wicca and astral travel as a young girl. Dean is not my biological father, but he has been there for most of my life and I am very close to him. I do think I see him as a strong and stable force in my life and I built my supporting figure for Margaret around him.
When my mother and I were involved in a home invasion in 2010, my father saved us. He was very brave in a confrontational and aggressive way, just like Steve’s character in Through the Nethergate. Interestingly enough, I have written a few characterisations for this book, but I have never done one for Steve. This is the first time I have actually thought about and captured his character in this way.
Wow. Robbie, thank you for sharing that very personal answer. It’s so much more than I expected. Dean sounds like a wonderful man.
[image error]Rudy and Peter Skitterians at Pixabay
Now, despite being outside my comfort zone, I’ll get to this review business.
Here’s the blurb from Amazon
Margaret, a girl born with second sight, has the unique ability to bring ghosts trapped between Heaven and Hell back to life. When her parents die suddenly, she goes to live with her beloved grandfather, but the cellar of her grandfather’s ancient inn is haunted by an evil spirit of its own.
In the town of Bungay, a black dog wanders the streets, enslaving the ghosts of those who have died unnatural deaths. When Margaret arrives, these phantoms congregate at the inn, hoping she can free them from the clutches of Hugh Bigod, the 12th century ghost who has drawn them away from Heaven’s White Light in his canine guise.
With the help of her grandfather and the spirits she has befriended, Margaret sets out to defeat Hugh Bigod, only to discover he wants to use her for his own ends – to take over Hell itself.
My Review
Not a ghost story, but a ghosts story — emphasis on the plural. What might happen if a teenaged girl, encountered terrible evil? Ah, but Margaret is not the average teenaged girl. She sees ghosts — and they see her!
[image error]Through the Nethergate by Roberta Eaton Cheadle. Image, Teagan R. Geneviene
I’ve read several of the author’s books for children, and found them delightful and imaginative. I was surprised when she began writing much darker stories, although I could imagine the need for “balance” that must have taken her from stories for young children to the horror genre. As children grow up, so might one’s genre of writing.
In Through the Nethergate Robbie bravely dives into the scary, ghostly stuff right away. Her love of history is evident. This adds positively to all aspects of the story. As a self-proclaimed research geek, I can tell that the author put considerable effort into her investigations.
Through the Nethergate takes place in a variety of settings. It also includes an abundance of vivid characters, from the girl and her grandfather, to ghosts and demons, to priests.
The Biblical aspect to the story was unexpected. Personally, this was neither positive nor negative for me, as I don’t tend to associate ghosts with religion. However, I think it will add to the story for many readers. There was a surprising detail with one of the otherworldly settings, which I thought was a terrific touch, but I don’t want to spoil anyone’s fun by describing it here.
Some descriptions are gruesome, but it’s horror — so to be expected. The Kindle version is 270 pages, if that helps you. Whether it is listed as “young adult” or simply “horror” I don’t think one can be too old to enjoy this otherworldly tale.
So, pour a glass of wine, or pull the covers up over your head like Crystal, and enjoy this read.
Robbie, I appreciate the time you’ve spent here today. I always say that true to the name of your other blog, you are an inspiration. Wishing you huge success with Through the Nethergate and all your books.
Thanks to everyone for visiting. I love your comments, so be sure to stop and say hello. I hope you will also visit Robbie. Hugs on the wing!
Copyright © 2019 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
