Sarah Butland's Blog, page 25

Blood Day the Novella!

After many grueling years I have successfully completed the story of Veronica as introduced in Blood Day: The Short Story. When this story won the Writers Federation of New Brunswick Award in 2011 I was thrilled and honoured, and as equally satisfied with the story. But others wanted more…

Being more fantasy than I’m used to writing I hesitated, literally for years, but have finally told her story and have it set to launch on August 25, 2015. Blood Day: the Novella can be can pre-ordered now through Amazon for your All-New Kindle Paperwhite, 6″ High-Resolution Display (300 ppi) with Built-in Light, Wi-Fi – Includes Special Offers

or Kindle App!

Beta readers are loving the story and already compliments are pouring in so I trust you’ll love it, too!

Thanks for reading,

Sarah Butland

WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE

ABOUT CHELLE RAMSEY:

An original Georgia Peach, Chelle Ramsey is the author of five published and several waiting-

on-the-shelf contemporary fiction books, with a focus on women’s fiction. Many of her stories

are based in her birthplace of Atlanta or her husband’s hometown of Cincinnati, where readers

can relate to local hot spots and events. Chelle wants people to become empowered to rise above

life’s adversities, with faith in God, and belief in themselves. She sprinkles words of

encouragement and inspiration throughout all of her real life fiction novels.

Chelle holds an MBA in Human Resource Management, which she puts to use in her property

management role by day, while she writes her fiction novels by night. Her most important roles

are those of a wife and mother of three. During her “me time,” she loves listening to music, and

becomes enraptured with the enthralling stories of Terry McMillan, and Nora Roberts. She

especially enjoys trying to solve the engaging mysteries of James Patterson and Stuart Woods,

while eating a bowl of butter pecan ice cream. Chelle resides in a rural community of Atlanta,

GA and enjoys writing, family time, ministering through dance at church, and watching NBA

games with her husband.

CONTACT INFO:

BLOG

WEBSITE

FACEBOOK

FACEBOOK NOVEL

 

TWITTER

EMAIL:

cmichelleramsey@gmail.com

 

INSTAGRAM

GOODREADS

 

PURCHASE BOOKS:

AMAZON: C. Michelle Ramsey Amazon or Chelle Ramsey Amazon

PAPERBACKS: https://www.createspace.com/4706061v

BOOK BLURB:

BEJEWELED: WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE

Olivia’s dreams have finally begun to come true, as she marries the man who’s held her heart

for twenty years. Her beauty salon is prospering, and she has begun rebuilding her team, after

seeds of discord were sowed and bonds were broken. Everything is beginning to look up, or so

she thinks. When a scandal is leaked to the media, Olivia’s dream of expanding is in jeopardy.

She must step up and play hard ball in a game with which she’s unfamiliar.

Nikki had dreams of building a beautiful family with a loving husband. But after looking at the

shattered pieces of her broken life, she is losing hope and desires more. She wants more than the

shame of barrenness, and more than physical abuse from his drinking binges. One phone call

gives her courage to escape the deadly clutches of her husband. Yet, when she finds strength in

another’s arms she finds herself spinning more lies. Nikki’s web of deceit is going to cost all

those who are close and it could just cost her, her life.

When deception is the name of the game, who all will have to share the pain?

EXCERPT 1:

The pain was easing up somewhat as Nikki and Wesley entered the breezeway at his apartments.

Unlocking the door, his eyes softened when he looked at her face once again.

She saw a mixture of anger and compassion nestled there.

“What?” she asked when he continued to stare at her longer than what she deemed comfortable.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. Wesley led her into a galley kitchen and pulled a sandwich bag

from one of the cabinets, filled it with ice, and then wrapped it in a paper towel before applying it to her

face.

She was in awe at the tenderness with which this man handled her. Every time he touched or said a word

to her, it was with such protection, like she had never known. This was a side of Wesley that she had not

seen in the five years of knowing him.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her by her free hand and leading her to the back of the apartment. She

looked around at his bedroom; not at all what she would have expected for a single man. Decorated in

oranges, greens, browns, and yellows, it had a Caribbean look and feel to it. The room was small, but neat

and exhibited a nice décor. The full-sized bed sat directly opposite the black-framed, chestnut-colored

dresser. To the right of his bed was a small nightstand in the same black framing and chestnut top as the

bed and the dresser. To the left of his bed was a double-paned window, with orange, brown, and green

curtains blocking out the midday sun. He walked over to the window and opened the curtains halfway and

then opened the blinds to allow the sun to stream through.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” she asked with a look of apprehension in her eyes.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Just to the bathroom, Nikki. I’ll be back.”

Exhaling a deep breath, she realized that a new fear had come over her. In all the altercations she had

endured with Carlos, he had never left her for dead. Why did he leave like that? What if the neighbors

didn’t come? I could’ve died in that bathroom, she thought.

She tried to fight back the tears, but they betrayed her. Sucking in her sobs, she stood and walked to his

dresser and began looking at his pictures, anything that would take her mind off her problems. There were

a couple of him and his father at various stages of his life, a few of some children, and one of a lady she

assumed to be his mother. She stood up and walked to the bed, staring at the amazing likeness he had to

this woman.

“That’s my mom.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice; she hadn’t heard him return to the bedroom.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you come up. Are you always so quiet?” she asked as he came and stood beside her.

She still had not looked at him, wishing she could make the tears disappear from her eyes and face.

“No. Are you always so scary?” he teased. He regretted the words almost the moment he said them. Her

body tensed up, and she looked down. Her fear had come as a result of the relationship she was in. She

was always tense and on edge, because she never knew what fuse Carlos was about to blow.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. Here, look at me,” he said, turning her face up towards him. “Why are you

crying?” he asked as he wiped her tears away with his fingers.

“I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know.” She couldn’t explain if she wanted to. No one would understand her

confusion or pain. She could forgive Carlos if he just had not left her. Didn’t he love her? Didn’t he want

to work things out? Maybe he didn’t love her, after all. If he did, he would not have left her there like that.

“Don’t be sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong. I have the feeling you have spent many years

apologizing,” Wesley stated.

He lovingly caressed the bruise that had formed on the right side of her face.

“Too beautiful,” Wesley said, being drawn into the power of her presence in his bedroom.

“Huh?”

“You. You’re too beautiful for this. I don’t want you to be scared every time people come near you.

Relax, okay? Just be…I promise I won’t ever do nothing to hurt you,” he said as he drew her nearer to

him. Looking down into her big, dark brown eyes, he felt himself getting lost.

Nikki didn’t know what she was feeling or what was happening between the two of them. And she

couldn’t contain herself as he pressed his full firm lips against her soft, lush ones. As their foreheads

touched, he continued to gently apply pressure to her lips, asking for permission to enter in.

Rooted In The Brook

Memories bubbling like a rolling river, babbling along its way.

Changing course, moving stones, its power has its sway.

There stands a tree with strength and height casting shadows

changing lives and providing hope.

The tree is home amongst the water, grounded within its grasp.

With roots deep down, forced through rocky ground

its branches reaching to touch many others.

This brook would not be the one which shaped us

without the tree to guide us.

As many stones were carried along the broken path,

strawberry flowers drifted in the air towards the forest man.

For all who traveled past its trail, who sheltered among its leaves,

we will always remember the tree that stopped us and rejoiced to set us free.

The tree fell today, carried away by the brook but in its wake

many more strawberry flowers float and kernels of wisdom dwell.

A tree once rooted in a well now flies among the angels for all to see.

Just yesterday rooted in the brook and now dancing among clouds but forever in our hearts.

Sarah Butland

Equality in the Next Generation

Kings rule the Kingdom.

Men have the adventures.

Daddy’s work.

Men make more money.

Women cook and clean.

These are not the beliefs I want my son to have. This is not the world I want him to live in. It should not be reality.

Personally, I’ve worked since I was the legal age to work – babysitting before that. Saving all of my hard-earned money while balancing good grades and practicing habits that became my passion. It was what I saw my parents do and, though my mother worked inside the home I saw what she did so valued her hard work even more. Supporting myself and believing I was equal to everyone else was just something I understood to be true.

Fast Forward to Present Day

My son is 5 years old and has two working parents. Yes, his Daddy has to drive to work and works longer hours during the day which leaves me to be teacher and house keeper during the day. I also work from home so can be made available pending complete disaster and part time so a lot of the clean-up, laundry and everyday errands are up me to (and my son). It’s a balance but it works overall.

And then I hear my son say – “It’s Daddy’s because he paid for it.” “I’ll need to ask Daddy,” after teaching or instructing him something. And “He’ll take me,” when I’m perfectly capable of teaching, taking and paying for things. But when it came to the purchase of a car he heard Daddy talk specs, saw Daddy hand over the money and so began the complex of believing Daddy rules. I admit, I know very little about vehicles except for how to drive them and yes, pump gas into them, so the stereotype actually  kind of fits this one.

But It’s Also in Stories

Since my son was felt in my belly I read stories to him. As an author I understand very well the importance of story time and there is always at least a bookmark in two books, one for my son and one for me. Even with nursery rhymes I noticed the focus put on men leaving the home and women staying home to cook and clean. Even if not in the words in the pictures, with women of all walks of life dressed in dresses or aprons. Putting on make-up and setting the table.

It’s perfectly ok to me for a woman to do that if she wants. I appreciate the women who love staying home with their kids and enjoy cooking. They have my praise. It’s just not something all women do or want.

I am a mom and love it. I enjoy cooking and baking though I don’t wear an apron and my son is always with me. I also enjoy working, practicing my passion and earning my own money to pay for the house, vehicles, my son’s activities. And I would thoroughly enjoy reading books that honour all types of families – from the stay at home dad and working mom, to the childless couples, and both hard working parents.

I want to read articles in the newspaper about women who earn just as much as men or more because I believe we are all equal and should be celebrating Men’s Day just as we do International Women’s Day. It’s not for me about superiority or making one person feel less than the other, it’s about learning about all of what is right and just in the world and celebrating everyone for their uniqueness and ability.

This world, my own and my son’s, should be more about love and less about roles.

Please, if you know of a children’s book that celebrates equality, let me know by commenting below. And when I find some, I’ll share some here, too.

Thanks for reading,

Sarah Butland

Would You Have What It Takes?

Reality television is often a guilty pleasure for all of us and The Voice is one I love. Not only do I thrive on listening to music, the format of what the contestants are asked to do astounds me.

The confidence and bravery needed to stand in front of millions of potential fans and a group of expert advisers is outstanding and inspiring. I often wondered if I could take the same risks if given the opportunity.

Would You Take The Risk For The Potential Reward?

If you were given the opportunity to express your passion but risk everything to do so, would you?

These contestants leave their everyday lives, including work and family, to focus entirely on what it is they want to do for the rest of their lives. Teenagers and older contestants take weeks of escaping their habitual every day to suddenly be who they dreamed. That wouldn’t be an easy task for anyone yet every year many do it.

Life is changing each minute even though it sometimes all looks the same. We often have opportunities we ignore because it’s not a guarantee or what we’re used to. Reality television shines a light on the extreme measures our neighbours and friends subject themselves to for money, yes, but also for pride and prove to themselves that this can be done.

Take The Leap

It’s decided. Though my voice is awful if given the opportunity to sing my passion to the masses for a chance at living through it every day I would leave my everyday behind in an instant.

Yes, of course I’d miss my family and wonder constantly about the well-being of my son and husband but I would be paving the way for so much happiness, hope and dreaming. And I guess I do that with my blog as I do believe some day the readers will be in the millions and I’ll be thinking of each of you while I hole away in a room with few distractions.

And then I’ll rejoice anew at the sight of my family and new habits which are always evolving.

Be you, take risks and be proud.

Thanks for reading,

Sarah Butland

author of Being Grateful, Being Thankful:: Appreciate Everything to Be Happy For Even The Rain Brings Rainbows, Sending You Sammy, Brain Tales – Volume One, Blood Day: The Short Story and Arm Farm

A Herd of Dogs Teach Many Things

A stellar tail… er… tale of forgiveness and acceptance wrapped in a mystery and the love of dogs.

Let me ask you… Have you ever felt insecure growing up? Avoiding potentially great friendships because of how it might look to others? Then learn how foolish all the worry and avoidance really is?

A delightful read which had me rooting for all of the characters and recalling the days of self-discovery through elementary and middle school relationships. Heck, I still go through some of the stages these characters did. Both Trevor and Loyola are self conscious about their height but for opposite reasons. Careful not to be seen together for fear of exaggerating their statures and being ridiculed, the two grade six students go their separate ways until fate forces them together.

Both young adults took great pride in volunteering to help their community, Trevor and Loyola try to continue their secret pact of staying apart though circumstances being them close together and they both kind of like that. Trevor, born to a family of pilots who move often, begins to understand how easy it can be to plant seeds despite efforts to do otherwise.

Jessica Scott Kerrin, from Halifax, Nova Scotia, teaches us to embrace the moment and look past how comical some friendships can seem. She masterfully expresses the concerns a lot of young kids experience while teaching many lessons in an adorable way – through the love of dogs.

Walking 6 dogs together of all different breeds who loved one another no despite their different characteristics work together to teach us all a thing or two.

Thanks for reading,

Sarah Butland *gifted a copy in exchange for an honest review

Fleur Lives – In Everyone Who Has Met Her

Already when you search for Fleur Mainville on Google the top links show she died and this frustrates me to no end. If anyone lived at all it was Fleur and so I want to remember her life.

Her ability to light up a room (cliché but true), to sparkle when talking about her husband, a hero to two beautiful children who now embody her. Sweet Ava dances like no one is watching, enjoying the music of any genre or local artist and Dominic, stoic and proud of who he can now call his mom and dad.

In her husband, Andrew, who was the sun who made the flower blossom the strongest. The light she thrived to talk about and couldn’t wait to see again.

The children of the community who were fascinated by her ability to play “the Train Song” faster and faster as they raced around her. Students who were in awe at her skills and teaching methods, inspired by her story and kind words.

Fleur Mainville was living her passion, there was no other choice in her eyes, and having a blast doing it. Her schedule so hectic but somehow maintained with grace. She miraculously had time for all who she loved, and that was a lot of people, and made me feel so honoured she made some time for me.

I haven’t known her long but our instant connection was so common with her. She simply loved everyone she met and made them feel like she was their best friend.

Every time my family listens to one of her cds, hears her voice on the radio or reads her words, simply at the sound of her name, we will remember her life and all she did for those around her. Fleur lived up to her name with her beauty touching deep into the viewer’s soul. An artist, a friend, a survivor, Fleur Mainville lives in our memory of her.

I, for one and I’m sure of many, will love her forever because she lived for all of us and that is what made her the happiest.

Thanks for reading and remembering Fleur’s life,

Sarah Butland

Every Opportunity

As a parent I immediately got into the habit of teaching my son to dream and be the best he can be. To try new things and have fun with everything he does because I was always one to stress and play it safe (still do). Wanting to give my son everything he needs to have him be happy, I let him try anything available at the sacrifice of me time.

I don’t do this so he can be the next Sidney Crosby, David Beckham or Adam Levine, I do this so he can discover who he is and become the best person he can be.

It is a struggle – to teach him to live his dream while sacrificing a little bit of mine but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love learning who this wonderful boy is and through him learn to work a bit harder to balance both his aspirations and mine.

It does mean less television watching and video gaming, but in the end it means more one on one time, more self discovery through discovering him. I could not imagine not being able to afford the activities we have him in because I don’t know who any of us would be if not given the opportunity to be our best selves.

Parenting is a balance, like everything in life, and I’m learning to adapt one moment at a time and even though I may not do what you do to raise your child, I respect everyone is doing what they feel is best. And what is best for my child and me will forever be different than your child and you. All parents, and people for that matter, have my utmost respect as we all live our best lives as long as we all understand that we need to get better every day in all possible ways.

Thanks for reading,

Sarah Butland

Life Involves Risk

Planes crash and yet we continue to purchase tickets to fly on them.

Cars collide but we ride the roads daily.

We stub our after getting out of bed yet we keep walking.

If we said no to every possible risk we wouldn’t progress and instead would lay in bed wondering about all the possibilities.

Like fear levels, taste preferences and genre tastes – we all have different opinions on what we like. Some of us love to be scared – that adrenaline rush we get on a haunted house tour or with a scary movie. As long as we say yes and buy the ticket we give the host our permission to scare the wits out of us.

While others play it safe, sit on the sidelines and choose a romance novel instead.

Who are we to decide who is right and who should be penalized? What matters is that people find their happiness and, with no harm to others, live through it. A decision Lucy makes to go on the death defying roller coaster doesn’t change our life or preference but it certainly makes her day.

Every day passes with people grumbling about silly things that should be overlooked and it’s time to make a change. It’s time to stand up for what you believe because you believe it but also because it helps people grow and decide their own fate.

Be passionate, with purpose and don’t judge what you don’t understand and, like Voltaire, “I do not agree with what you have to say, but I’ll defend to the death your right to say it.”

Thanks for reading,

Sarah Butland

Meet Jeff Gunhus – Author of Jack Templar

Tour Schedule

Jack Templar and the Lord of the Werewolves

Fresh from confronting the Lord of the Vampires in the limestone catacombs beneath Paris, Jack Templar faces his toughest challenge yet as he searches for the next Jerusalem Stone, this one being held by the Lord of the Werewolves.

But the narrow escape from the vampire lair came at a great cost and Eva battles to survive the new vampire blood in her veins. The only chance to help Eva is to continue their quest and find the Jerusalem Stones. Reuniting the Stones will not only stop Ren Lucre’s coming war against mankind, but also transform Eva back into her human self.

From the ruins of ancient Delhi to the depths of the Black Forest in Germany, Jack and his friends face monsters, bewildering riddles and treachery from the most unlikely of places. Through it all, they are plagued by the Oracle’s prediction that at least one of their group with not make it through the adventure alive. Worse yet, they know that Kaeden, the Lord of the Werewolves, will do his best to make sure none of them do.

But they are monster hunters of the Black Guard… and they will do their duty, come what may.

Amazon

 

Excerpt

The stench hung heavy in the air. There was no other smell in the world quite like it. First came the stink of grease fires from the wall torches, the heavy black smoke that roiled through the air like a foul fog. Then a moldering, musty base layer came to the senses. It reeked of decay and seeping moisture that grew black mold on every surface. The mold clung on the rough-cut rocks lining the dungeon tunnels. It covered the thick iron bars holding the prisoners in place. It even grew on the tattered rags covering the miserable creatures in the cells and likely on their skin as well. That final smell overlay the symphony of stink.

The Creach prisoners.

Werewolves, harpies, blind mad-worms, blinderwursts, fangpiercers, even some demons held with the special pure iron chains required to keep them in place. Many of these creatures were pungent under the best circumstances, but locked in the deepest dungeon underground, sometimes for decades, they took on an odor so ripe, so awful, that visitors to the dungeon often had to hold their breath to enter. Even then, the smell would make their eyes sting and well with tears.

Immediately after leaving the dungeon, visitors were allowed a bath or a shower in the castle. As they washed the stench from their bodies, they would feel an overwhelming sense of thanks that they were not a prisoner wallowing in the horrifying conditions they’d just witnessed.

No one, human or Creach, wanted to be a prisoner in the dungeons of Ren Lucre.

Far away, at the end of one of the long, twisting corridors, came the creak of a massive door opening. The prisoners stirred at the sound. Their reactions mirrored how long they had been in their cells.

The newer arrivals looked up with expectation, still hopeful their punishment was going to be short and that someone was coming to tell them their nightmare was over.

Those who had been there longer knew that hope was useless in this dark place. They simply cowered farther into whatever dark corner they could find in their cell, desperate not to be noticed by the Master.

Then there were those who had been there the longest. They simply looked up with mild interest, knowing that nothing they did made any difference. Their spirits were broken. Worse, they knew this to be the dark truth, and they simply didn’t care.

One single prisoner reacted in none of these ways. He simply stood, and the rags that had once been his clothes hung on his bony frame. Unbroken by years of starvation and torture, he still squared his shoulders in the direction of the sound and raised his chin, his eyes glistening in the torchlight with defiance. What he saw would have brought a normal man to his knees, but this man was no more normal than the monster approaching.

Ren Lucre, the five hundred year old vampire, filled the hallway as he strode through it, his cloak billowing behind him as he rushed past the stinking cells. His pale, narrow face looked pinched and concerned. His blood-red lip pursed in a straight line, and his eyes glowered like embers in a fire that might at any time combust into new flame.

He came to the thick set of bars that held the proud man, stopped, and stared him down.

“Well, if it isn’t the Lord of the Creach,” the man said. Even though his voice was course and weak, he still managed an edge of bitter sarcasm. “You look like you’re having a bad day.” The man spat on the floor. “Good.”

 

Author Jeff Gunhus

Jeff Gunhus is the author of the Amazon bestselling supernatural thriller, Night Chill, and the Middle Grade/YA series, The Templar Chronicles. The first book of the series, Jack Templar Monster Hunter, was written in an effort to get his reluctant reader eleven-year old son excited about reading. It worked and a new series was born. His book Reaching Your Reluctant Reader has helped hundreds of parents create avid readers. Killer Within is his second novel for adults. As a father of five, he and his wife Nicole spend most of their time chasing kids and taking advantage of living in the great state of Maryland. In rare moments of quiet, he can be found in the back of the City Dock Cafe in Annapolis working on his next novel. If you see him there, sit down and have a cup of coffee with him. You just might end up in his next novel.

Website * Twitter * Facebook

 

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$25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash

Ends 11/4/14

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

 

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