Allison Bruning's Blog, page 56

High School, Super Spies, O My!

Another small town out in the middle of nowhere. This should be interesting yet very useful. The town you are visiting is in present day. That means you can stash what you have and make note of the where you left your stolen belongings so you can return to them after the tour. No one would suspect anything in a small town. It's not like you know anyone in Michigan anyways.

You walk down the road with the other members of the group. The smell of fresh air after the rain lifts into the air. Stormy clouds continue to linger, hinting to everyone they had left their mark on this quiet neighborhood. You clutch your satchel of goodies, scanning your surroundings. Rows of houses line up and down the hilly road. You feel as if everyone is watching you, waiting for you to make a mistake. There are just too many prying eyes in this small town.

Tasha turns and begins to walk backwards. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention." You turn your attention towards her. "We are going to meet our host at the local high school. I am so thrilled about this tour. You just won't believe what these high school students have been up to in this town. Why they are the best spies I have ever seen. And what an accomplishment for their age!"

Spies? Did Tasha just say spies? Oh, great. Well there goes your plans.


Small Town in the middle of nowhere
By: Loimere @http://www.flickr.com/photos/loimere/...

Hello Everyone! I hope all is well with you! I’m your tour guide today, my name is Sarah Cole and I’m going to take you through the quaint town of Harrisburg, Michigan.
I know what you’re thinking, Harrisburg Michigan? What’s so great about this tiny little burg. Well, I’ll tell you it’s not the sleepy little town that it appears to be. I was fooled too! In fact, I was so upset at the thought of being stuck in this podunk town for the summer that I was majorly depressed. Then I met my fashionista friend Jackie and that changed everything!
Harrisburg is so small that there are only two traffic lights along Main Street. That’s where I met the first interesting character of this town. She was dubbed the “Cat Lady” by the locals and the stories were spreading like wild fire. They claimed that she was a witch with magic powers. There were even rumors that people had gone into her home and had never come out. Of course, I didn’t believe any of this. I know there’s no such thing as witches, but try to convince Jackie of that.
The Cat Lady’s house is on Jefferson Street and that will be our first stop for today. You’ll be able to see where her murder happened and everything. I hope the sight of blood doesn’t make you puke. Just be prepared because it is kind of gross. But before we stop there, I’d like to show you the hangout of Harrisburg. It’s right over there and it’s called Hinkle’s. They have the best cheeseburgers around and everyone goes there to gossip and discuss what’s happening with their families. It’s decorated totally awesome too! They have Christmas lights year round and these really cool plaques with funny quotes on them.  Now, if we turn the corner we’ll be on Jefferson Street and we’ll just walk a few blocks and we’ll be at the Cat Lady’s.Here we are the Cat Lady’s house. It’s the spookiest place in town.  See how the front porch sags?  It reminds me of the droopy smile of someone who has just received a shot of Novacaine. The windows give me the creeps too. They look like soulless, evil eyes watching me with wicked intent.
Did you know the Super Spies found the Cat Lady’s dead body? That’s right. J It all started when Jackie, Lacey and I were playing Truth or Dare. Jackie dared me to go up on the porch and ring the old woman’s door bell. Of course, I did it, but when I looked in the window I saw the Cat Lady lying on the floor I freaked! I rushed inside and that’s when I realized she was dead.
It was totally gross and wouldn’t you know it, Jackie and Lacey didn’t believe me when I said that the she was dead. So I had to show them the body. While we were inside the police came and it was a total mess. But enough about that go ahead and peek in the windows and you’ll see all the blood. We can’t go inside because the doors are locked.
The next stop on our tour is the High School, or what’s left of it. You see it was bombed the first day of school. Can you even believe it?  Lacey and I were getting ready for school when it exploded. We heard it and everything. Of course, we had to investigate.
It’s right up the street and it’s totally demolished, but don’t worry The Super Spies and the FBI found the bombers. So it’s totally safe to go by there and take a look.There it is, the bomb demolished the first floor and the second floor fell down where the first floor used to be. Now they’re cleaning it up and getting ready to rebuild the school.
Well, that’s the last stop on the tour. I’m heading down to Hinkle’s for a piece of their strawberry pie. Feel free to join me, it’s delish! J
This book opens in a small town in Michigan where Sarah and her sister Lacey are now living with their Aunt and Uncle. Still reeling from the fact her parents have disappeared, Sarah starts the school year with her new friend Jackie Jenkins. When Sarah learns the school has been bombed, she’s filled with dread. Uncle Walt is a teacher, and he was in the school when the bomb exploded. Taking matters into her own hands, Sarah decides to search for him. The rest of the Super Spies are right behind her. When a fireman chases them away from the school, Sarah becomes suspicious. She decides to investigate. The FBI arrives on the scene. Sarah realizes this bombing could have even bigger implications. Searching for the bombers, Sarah is introduced to the world of terrorism. She fears that the bombing and her parents’ disappearance are connected and terrorists are involved. To make matters worse, the bombers are determined to finish the job. Can the Super Spies find the bombers before it’s too late?







This book opens in a small town in Michigan where fifteen-year-old Sarah Cole is stuck spending the summer at her Aunt and Uncle’s with her sister, Lacey. She’s not happy with the situation until she befriends a girl named Jackie. The three girls stumble upon the ruthless murder of a reclusive neighborhood woman. One of the officers investigating the crime believes the girls are responsible for her death. Fearing that this officer will frame them for the murder, the girls organize their own detective squad. They become the Super Spies and start their own fact-finding mission.  The Super Spies can’t understand why anyone would want to murder the “Cat Lady” until they start digging into her past and discover a horrible crime that happened thirty years ago. They uncover a connection between the two crimes and attempt to bring this information to the police, only to be reprimanded for meddling in the inquest. Not only are the girls upset by the admonition, but they also struggle with the fact that their exuberant investigating could provide a legal loophole allowing the killer to go free. To make matters worse, the police don’t even believe them. Frustrated by this turn of events, the Super Spies realize it’s up to them to snare the Cat Lady killer, or die trying…

You can buy "The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer" at:
 
Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Super-Spies-Lady-Killer-ebook/dp/B007JZH61K
 
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-super-spies-and-the-cat-lady-killer-lisa-orchard/1109518725?ean=2940014338202
 
and "The Super Spies and the High School Bomber" at:
 
Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Super-Spies-School-Bomber-ebook/dp/B008P8O7OY
 
Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-super-spies-and-the-high-school-bomber-lisa-orchard/1112263058?ean=2940014992244
Who Is Lisa Orchard?


Hello! I'm Lisa Orchard and I want to tell you a little bit about myself.

I am the oldest of four children and grew up in a small town in Western Michigan. I grew up reading mysteries, starting with "The Bobbsey Twins" and "The Nancy Drew" series.

By fifth grade I was writing my own mysteries and illustrating them as well. I've always known that I wanted to be a writer and I tucked that little piece of information into the back of my brain; determined to take it out and use it when it was time.

After graduating from Central Michigan University with a Marketing Degree, I landed a sales job. I was on my way! After spending 13 years in the Insurance industry, I met my husband. We soon married and had two beautiful boys. I decided to stay home with my kids. A tough decision, but one I don't regret.

I did, however, miss the hustle and bustle of work - and working toward a goal. That is when the little voice inside my brain said, "It's time to write."

So I did, and "The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer" was born, followed by my new book, "The Super Spies and the High School Bomber." 

I am very excited as I begin this new "chapter" in my life.

You can contact Lisa at:


Twitter: https://twitter.com/lisaorchard1

Facebook:   https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lisa-Orchard/328536613877060?ref=hl

Website:  www.lisaorchard.com

Hope and Love in Ancient Ireland.

The sun shines gently over the rolling hills of ancient Ireland as you and the rest of the cruise ship passengers walk behind Dalton. You carefully watch the families before you react to the wonders all around you. Deep in your heart, you had always held a fondness for Ireland. There was something mystical about this place. It was almost as if you had always belonged this land but how could you? You were a true blue American born in a different century. Yet there was something simplistic about this place. A simplicity you had always longed for.
You sigh, clutching you satchel close to you. You would absolutely have to steal something from this journey. Dalton has said the ship had traveled to the 5th century. Just to think you could take something from this far back in the past with you is overwhelming. The cultural significance of an artifact that old, let alone the monetary value! But you had to be careful. You had never taken into consideration Tasha would have ever learned about the thefts. Everything would have gone smoothly if hadn't been for that insane couple who had chased the cruise ship after you had stolen the map to Atlantis. After that little incident, Tasha had contacted all the places the tour had travelled to. How in the world she had been able to do that was beyond you. Tasha didn't suspect you yet, but if you didn't cover your tracks well she might start to suspect you. No, you had to chose a family you could pin your adventures on and make that investigation last throughout the journey so you could continue to steal from every place you went to without suspect. What you needed was a naive family with kids who were aways getting into trouble. The long group hike you were taking from the Irish coast to your contact inland would provide the perfect setting for you to pick your scapegoat. The world needed to know about the places you were visiting and you were bound to let that happen. 

Aran, Ireland by talliskeeton
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/talliskeeton/3001670018/
Hello. My name is Caylith, and I live in Ireland. Well, I try to call it Éire, as my husband Liam does, and I even try to say a few words in Irish-Gaelic. Like Es tú mo ghra, aiam. I love you, Liam. . . .Um, where was I? Oh, yes, I live in a settlement called Derry. It’s a group of about two thousand little clayhouses, round with thatched roofs. My immigrants and I, fleeing from the Saxon invasions in Britannia, built this place along the swift River Foyle in the north part of this amazing land. We came here really on the heels of my friend Father Patrick. The pope in Rome sent him to change this whole country from the pagan beliefs of generations, to the glad tidings of Christ. Most of the change has been slow, I have to tell you. But gradually, even my own clansman husband and his kin have been baptized by my marvelous friend, even the family of the High King himself! 
Come, walk and ride with me as I show you my bally--the little settlement that was named after the Gaelic word meaning “oak.” Here we are at the church. It’s a huge round clay-andwattle building with room for 150 people, all sheltered by the largest oak tree I have ever seen. Here’s where my mother and I, my husband and my friends attend the services every Sunday. Every so often, we call a folk moot, or assembly of citizens, to decide on important matters that affect our settlement and our people.

Let us walk down to the river, only a few hundred feet from the church You can see the
huge, dark rocks being pummeled and crashed by the currents of the Foyle, fastest river
in all of Éire. I often lie on a large flat rock near my own little house--called a teach--and fish
for brown trout and salmon.


Do you like my tunic? The Gaelic people call it a léine. Really, it’s no more than a long shirt
that I cinch with a belt or sash, and then I hitch it up to allow free movement while I ride one of my horses. The sleeves almost touch the ground, and they’re made up of several colors. Only the High King himself is allowed to wear six colors, including the unusual color of purple, to show his lofty rank. My own sleeves are saffron, yellow, green and rose, all little checks and squares.


Here, you can take this frisky mare--my horse Macha. I’ll ride my palomino pony NimbleFoot while we visit my darling Liam, and then our little house.


Our growing baile, the town of Derry, spread along the western shore of the swift
River Foyle. Cradled under trees and on the hills, small, clay round-houses with
thatched roofs sent their tendrils of smoke into the azure sky. Squares and rectangles
of well-tended gardens, green even in January, lay side by side with fields of brown,
dormant grass and bright winter wildflowers. Horses and goats milled around
poultry pens and wooden haggards filled with animal fodder. Here and there a
pottery kiln or a smith’s forge sent its own kind of smoke chasing the direction of the
wind.


Derry was unique among towns I had seen in Éire, for it was built along the river where the terrain was full of rounded hills, like maidens’ breasts, and low glens, and
even rather deep little gullies cut into the land in places where feeder streams had
run in days of old. Our workmen had been told to build homes using the landscape
rather than to cut away or fill in the terrain. The result was deeply pleasing to me. I thought about the settlements of Bath and Lindum in Britannia, the two towns in my former homeland I liked most. There was something compelling about living in such a wild place, a bally that clung to the errant landscape, its very streets meandering in
contour with the hills.


My beloved Liam and I were married not long ago, by Father Patrick himself. He works
every day but the sabbath, building a defensive trench around Derry. You can tell him
from the other workers quite handily--he’s the tall one over there, the one in the tight
leather britches, the one with auburn hair falling into his eyes. The one with the close
beard and sensuous mouth. . . .



Um, I should skip him for now. We’ll just ride on to the little house, a ways down thepath, through the stand of pine trees, here near the river. . . .

The house was plain and very small. It contained but two windows—one east, one
west. We had three benches and a table to accommodate guests. If more were
present, some of us sat on the floor. It did boast a large oak bed, fashioned by [my
old friend] Luke, built to rise almost two feet. In fact, the bed was so large that it had
to be brought into the house in three pieces and bolted together in place.
Other furniture included my own tiny clothes cabinet and two other pieces made by
Luke—a large chest and a large cabinet where Liam and I kept our clothing and
other personal belongings. A table near the bed held a water basin and ewer. Our
weapons were arrayed not in a rack but against a wall. Besides a round, stone fire
pit that stood in the middle of the teach, there was nothing more to adorn our tiny
home.



Notes from author Erin O’Quinn:
You have just read a little of the background of my historical romance trilogy “The Dawn of
Ireland.” It’s a series of three novels about immigrants to fifth-century AD
Ireland and about the clansmen, cattle barons, druids and others who inhabit that
untamed land. Especially, though, it’s about a passionate young couple named Liam and
Caylith O’Neill.

The books are as follows:




Storm Maker: http://amzn.to/O218y7
The Wakening Fire : http://amzn.to/N1Gc6C
Captive Heart: http://amzn.to/Qm8b1X

To read a bit about me and my other books, I invite you to visit the website of my
publisher, SirenBookstrand, at the following link:
www.bookstrand.com/user/334498/sales

Open House and Secret's Revealed

You have no idea where you are. This morning you awoke to find the cruise ship had parked right in front of a police station. Your heart jumps a beat as you leap out of your bed and run to you brown satchel. Could Tasha and Dalton have learned you have been stealing from everyplace you have went on tour since you had stolen the map to Atlantis? You rummage through the bag pulling out you belongings on the desk. The map and everything else you have stolen is still in there. You pull out your iPhone and flop through the pictures. Oh, thanks heavens, the photographs were still on there. You hadn't emailed or text them to anyone in case Tasha was secretly watching all lines of communication. You wouldn't put it past her.

A knock on the door startles you. Tasha calls out your name from behind the door. "Just a moment, I'm not decent," you lie, shoving the items back into your satchel. You close it tight and throw it on the side of the desk. Best not to let your ROTC cadet host know something was wrong. You calm your nerves and open the door.

"Good morning," Tasha greets.

"Morning," you yawn.

"May I come in?"

"Sure," you hold the door open so your African American, young adult host can enter. You glanced at her attire. She was dressed in her Army Combat Uniform.

You close the door and turn to her. "Are we heading somewhere we need a military presence?"

Tasha chuckles, "No, my unit and I are going on a training mission while Dalton takes you to the police station."

"Me," you hold back the panic in your voice, trying not to look at the bag with your stolen goods.

"Not just you, everyone. I was wondering," She pulls out her hands from behind her back. You catch the slip of paper she is carrying. "if you might be willing to aide Dalton and I with a little mystery."

"Aide you how?"

"You served in the war as an MP and then went to college where you received your degree in criminal justice. After graduation you were promoted to Captain then was transferred to the Pentagon where you worked intelligence for fifteen years. You worked your way up to Major General then retired a year before you were eligible for another promotion. You left the army on a very nice retirement package. You have been writing freelance investigative reports for several top newspapers and work as a military correspondent for the networks, FOX, and CNN."

"You know alot about me."

"I make it my business to know everything about the passengers and crew members on my boat."

"Alright, it's all true. What does any of that matter to you?"

"Are you on this cruise for business or personal reasons?"

"Personal."

"Too bad."

"Too bad?"

"You've been called back to duty, Major. There's a thief on my boat and I want to know their identity."

"You can't call me back to service. Only the president...." Tasha hands you the note she had been keeping from you. You stare at the handwritten note from the President of the United States. How could Tasha have gotten that? You know the president's handwriting. Maybe it was a forgery. You hold it in the air examining the ink, paper and handwriting. Everything was legit. The secret markings, the formation of the letters, everything! You lower the paper with a long sigh. This was the last thing you ever wanted. How do you explain to your commander-in-chief you are the one who took it. "Whose my contact?"

"I am. No one, including Dalton, knows you have been reactivated. You must understand the thief is a threat to national security. No on can know about this vessel and this trip. When the tour is over we will ensure the passenger do not remember the trip. They will think it was all a dream."

"What's the purpose in that if no one can remember what they experienced?"

"Oh, they will remember some of it but they will think it was divine inspiration that had given them the idea. They'll turn their experiences into a novel, short story, poem, song, who knows what other pieces of art will come of it. I've been doing this for four years. Each time, there have been new works of literary and visual arts that explode soon afterwards in the United States. This vessels job is to ensure the arts do not die in our county. They can never die. If the thief exposes this little governmental secret then we can rest assure other countries will try to duplicate our program. This vessel could potentially become used for war and not the peacefully endeavours we employ. Think about it. A ship that can travel through space, time and other dimensions? Why in the wrong hands you could eliminate an entire population by one tiny act in their history."

"True. How do you chose who comes on this ship? There were so few tickets available."

"Only those whom we have pre-chosen from the population ever see the offer on the website you went too."

"Why chose me?"

"In case I needed you. You will continue on the tours as you usual but will keep a sharp eye on everyone and everything around you, understood?"

"Understood."

"Good, get ready. The next tour is at a police station," Tasha said then exited from your cabin. You look down at you bag. Someway, you were going to have to make duplicates of everything you stole and plant them on a passenger. That could be easier said then done.



[image error] Tasmania Police Station by Canley
@http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Fil...


Sometimes, I wonder why I bother, I thought, looking around the room.  Five visitors sat in the barely adequate chairs, watching and listening to the hum and howl of the station around them.  One woman wrinkles her nose in distaste as people stagger past - a drunk draped on a woman that could kindly be described as worn out.  Her saggy breast almost falling out of a threadbare dress that is several years too young for her, and wasn't in style when it was new.  Its Lycra is sagged and pulled in various places, and the wide V at the front gives a view of flaccid, wrinkled skin.
"Welcome to the main station," I say, crossing to them.  I can see them eyeing me up, and I know what they're seeing.  A bleary-eyed detective in a suit as wrinkly as the ineffectual bosom of that prostitute - three day stubble, blood shot eyes.  But I smell clean, and I smile as disarmingly as I can.
"You're the last group I'm taking on this tour," I say, as they're all lead to the desk.  Brochures are handed out, and I explain, briefly what we'll be doing.
"So, you'll be taken into the back offices of CORETEX.  If there are no crimes currently being logged and booked, I will demonstrate the system with the information outlined in this pamphlet," I say.  The crime that we've chosen to use, after deliberation was CX115-AX3 - when my best friend was shot in the foyer of the station.  Because, of course, we own the footage and have no need to gain permission from the public spaces that crimes may or may not have happened at. And the prosecuted cases passing through now are in judicial limbo, as the last of the pilots are assessed. 
 Five visitor passes, handed to each of them.  "Before you take these though, I have to tell you that there are mandatory touch checks going on.  Your pass contains a sweat-spot," All five nod happily.
Sweat spots.  As if they couldn't just douse themselves in chemicals to suppress or invalidate the tests.  No clone would be dumb enough to come to the stationhouse anyway.
"The Open House project is designed to give you a chance to explore the CORETEX system's practical applications in the community.  It's our database as you know, but what has just been announced, and was piloted here, was that we're all jacked in…"

"Is that entirely necessary?" a timid voice from behind me asks.  The small woman is one of the outlying district's councillors - Ms Japes I think.  I put on my widest beam before turning to her, hoping my smile is as disarming as the words we're all trained to parrot.
"CORE jacked officers are designed to be helpers in the community - it means we're able to collate and sift evidence as we see it.  Everything is filed, and everything can be checked.  It makes the meaningless muddle meaningful." The words are saccharine on my lips - the party line, of course.
"Why's this your last tour?" an older, portly man asked.  "I've enjoyed having you testify in my courtroom," With those words I placed him. 

"Judge Marks, I was told you'd come on one of these,"

"Gotta see what the tour is all about," he said, patting my arm. "So, are you retiring?"

"No, off on a consult, then Beth will be imminently due…"

"Ah yes, your lovely wife.  Deepest congratulations," I smiled.  We were travelling along the long hall, the worn tiles showing the age of the refits that were long overdue.  I could see them all looking around and wondering why we hadn't cleaned this up instead.  Up ahead someone was subduing a prisoner, firmly holding him face first into the wall.

"This is the perfect example of why CORETEX makes our lives much easier,"

This is the perfect example of why I hate CORE, I thought.  "So, as you can see, the officer is subduing this man for, "

"Drugs possession," the officer supplied as I stopped, dutifully.

I nodded, "this will be documented, including his attempt to escape.  Any marks or bruises will be later documented to ensure there were no mitigating circumstances, and everything will be tracked…."
Later, much later, I was back at my desk.  The tour had gone as expected, and now, I had some clean-up to do.  I knew I was getting the consolation assignment - Cassidy had already given me it, so now, I had to pack up.  I wasn't coming back here for a long time.The drive home was interesting.  Snow everywhere, the first flurries of the year.  And every channel, every station was talking about 'Big Brother with Blood' and how UCPS had set something up that was perfect for the burgeoning problems in the city.  I looked over at my rucksack, at the CD I'd been given, and at the official files and sighed.  'Big Brother with Blood' better not get on my nerves. [image error]

D Kai Wilson-Viola's first book, Glass Block, leads on from the events described in this passage.  Elliot Peters, the detective leading the tour here, lives in a city that never sleeps, and might even be considered almost sentient.  The book will be available imminently (until then, please visit http://buythebook.darknesspd.com).  
[image error]






Kai is currently Nanowrimoing desperately, writing the next book and nine others for her tenth year as an ML.  You can read more about her writing and editing adventures athttp://authorinterrupted.com or on her Facebook at  http://facebook.com/dkaiwilsonviola

Danger in Denver

Ah, the fresh mountain air of Denver, Colorado. You had been here once before as a child with your parents and loved it. You can't wait to meet up with the private eye that Tasha and Dalton spoke about his morning at breakfast. After leaving the rainforest the cruise ship flew through out the night until it reached the sky over the Rocky Mountain National Park this morning. You had watched the ship descend into the park from your cabin. The magnificent sight had captivated you so much you had almost forgotten to get ready for the day! 
After breakfast, Tasha had announced you would all be taking a shuttle from the park to Denver where you would meet a private eye downtown. You had hoped you would be able to explore the park but Tasha has said that would be impossible. The longer the ship stayed hidden in the canyon the more people would wonder why they couldn't hike down their favorite trail. The trail had been closed by the park to the public with a warning there were a family of bears in the area and it was best for the public to stay away. Only those on the cruise ship knew the truth. Dalton had a contact within the National Park Service that allowed him to park the cruise ship whenever he wanted within a national park as long as he gave the park manager a couple of day's warning before doing so. You wonder just who else your hosts might know.
Just when you thought you had seen it all, a couple of shuttle buses had driven out of the side of the cruise ship as if they had been part of the wall. You couldn't tell if your eyes were deceiving you or not but the wall of the ship looked to be in tact. How was that at all possible. The shuttle buses changed colors before you eyes and instantly matched one of the several hotel shuttle buses have seen before. You climbed on board and enjoyed the long ride with your other cruise mates. What else awaited for you in Denver? [image error] The Denver Skyline By FionaG999 @http://www.flickr.com/photos/53994845...
Hey, welcome to Denver, Colorado.  I’m Reed Ferguson and I’m a private eye.  I live just north of downtown Denver.  I know what you’re thinking, how can that dashing brown-haired guy with the hazel eyes be a detective?  Shouldn’t he be an actor or a model?  Just kidding.  I’m a pretty ordinary guy who struggled to find out what I wanted to do with my life.  I love film noir and detective fiction, so I decided to hang up my shingle and become a private eye.  And it’s been an adventure… I’m going to start our tour at B 52’s, a local bar where I love to hang out and play pool with my friends, Ace and Deuce Smith (yes, that’s really their names).  B 52’s is a stone’s throw from Coors Field, where the Colorado Rockies play.  I love to sit out in right field and watch games because you also get an incredible view of the Rocky Mountains in the background.Next let’s walk to my office, located near the 16th Street Mall, an outdoor mall that runs the through a good portion of downtown Denver.  There are lots of nice shops and restaurants here, surrounded by skyscrapers.
My first case, This Doesn’t Happen In The Movies, takes place in December, and the mall is beautiful this time of the year because the city decorates the trees on the mall with lights and many of the buildings sport holiday lights as well.  When it snows, it’s breathtaking.The Denver Theater of Performing Arts is just a block away, so we’ll stop there for a show.  Someday I hope they’ll show some classic film noir, like The Big Sleep or Double Indemnity. This city isn’t nearly as big as New York City or Chicago, but we’ve got a charm of our own.  And if you love skiing, hiking, or other outdoor activities, then this is the place!  If you’ve got time before the cruise leaves, rent a car and go up into the mountains.  You’ll be blown away by the scenery.Well, here we are at my office.  It’s pretty unspectacular, except for the film noir posters on the walls.  I’m searching for some missing show dogs, and I’ve got to get to work.  I hope you’ve enjoyed your tour of Denver, and enjoy your next stop on the cruise.
[image error] Blog:http://tobecomeawriter.comAmazon link:http://www.amazon.com/Doesnt-Happen-Ferguson-Mystery-ebook/dp/B005DJHWRW/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1347222029&sr=8-5&keywords=renee+pawlish
Author Bio:
[image error] Renée Pawlish is the award-winning author of the bestselling Nephilim Genesis of Evil, the first in the Nephilim trilogy, the Reed Ferguson mystery series (This Doesn't Happen In The Movies, Reel Estate Rip-off, The Maltese Felon, and the short story Elvis And The Sports Card Cheat), The Noah Winters YA Adventure series (The Emerald Quest), Take Five, a short story collection, and The Sallie House: Exposing the Beast Within, a nonfiction account of a haunted house investigation.

Renée has been called “a promising new voice to the comic murder/mystery genre” and “a powerful storyteller”.  Nephilim Genesis of Evil has been compared to Stephen King and Frank Peretti.

A Veteran's Day Salute

A History of Veteran's Day
[image error] CAMP VICTORY, Iraq - Spc. LeAnn Morgan, right, a targeting analyst with Multi-National Corps - Iraq, recites the oath of reenlistment as country singer Toby Keith, left, helps hold the flag Tuesday, May 22, 2007, at Al Faw Palace. Keith was visiting Iraq as part of a USO tour. Morgan agreed to serve three more years with the Army. 


The Great World began July 28, 1914 but the United States did not enter the war until April 6, 1917. In preparation the Unites States military began to construct camps throughout the country to train the new recruitments needed to join our American forces. Each camp was strategically placed so that it would meet the needs of the states surrounding it. Camps such as Camp Sherman in Chillicothe, Ohio not only served as recruitment stations but also as prisons for any prisoners of war the United States may acquire in battle overseas. Within six weeks of the United States entering the Great War, 73,000 young men and women volunteered to serve their country. President Woodrow Wilson's administration had targeted the number of men needed for the war to be 1 million. In order to acquire the necessary manpower the government enacted the draft. The Selective Service Act of 1917 repaired the defects of the draft laws that were enacted during the Civil War by making exemptions for anyone who were employed in essential occupations, had dependents who could not survive without them and who had certain religious beliefs.  
[image error] My great, great grandfather's, Dallas Benton McCardle, WWI draft registration.         Ten million young men were registered for the draft in 1917. It was a universal draft that included blacks although black and white soldiers were in different units.
The first draft was drawn on June 5, 1917 for men between the ages of 21 - 31 years of age. The following year, the military needed more men. The Woodrow Wilson administration rose the draft age to meet the need. On June 5, 1918 a second draft was drawn for men to include any male who had obtained 21 years of age after June 5, 1917. The Spanish Flu and the War had cost many American soldiers lives. Once again the age range was raised. A third draft was drawn on September 12, 1918 for men ages 18 – 45 years of age. The Great War officially ended on November 11, 1911. 
Over 2 million American soldiers fought on the battlegrounds in France.367,710 blacks and 2,442, 586 whites were drafted into the military. Nearly half a million immigrants were drafted into service as well.
[image error] Honoring Service and Sacrifice
By: DebM07 @http://www.flickr.com/photos/debm01/4... Day is an American holiday that salutes the brave men and women who have fought for our country. It is not a day to remember the veterans who have died for our country. That is Memorial Day. Known as Remembrance or Armistice Day, other countries celebrate November 11th as the end of the Great World. On November 11, 1918, President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed today as Armistice Day. He said "To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country's service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations."Armistice Day became n national holiday in May 13, 1938.
In 1945, World War II veteran, Raymond Weeks had the idea of celebrating all American veterans on Armistice Day and not just the ones who had fought in the Great War. Weeks presented his idea to General Dwight Eisenhower. The General supported Weeks proposition to have a National Veteran’s Day. Two years later, Weeks held the first Veteran’s Day celebration in Alabama. In 1954, Ed Rees, a US Representative from Kansas, presented a bill to Congress to have Veteran’s Day officially become a national holiday. The bill passed and on May 26, 1954 President Dwight Eisenhower signed the bill into law. Congress officially changed Armistice Day to Veteran’s Day on June 1, 1954. And what about Weeks? Well he held a Veteran’s Day event in Alabama since 1947 on an annual basis. President Regan honored him with Presidential Citizenship Award at the White House in 1982 for being the driving force behind Veteran’s Day. Elizabeth Dole dubbed Weeks with the nickname “father of Veteran’s Day.” Raymond Weeks died two years later. 
[image error] World War II artilleryman James Wangen arrives at Reagan National Airport Oct. 8 to applause and greetings from Soldiers of Department of the Army G3 and the 249th Engineer Battalion (Prime Power) at Fort Belvoir, Va. The veterans were flown in as part of the Honor Flight Network, which transports veterans from across the United States to the National World War II Memorial, Washington, D.C. http://www.flickr.com/photos/soldiersmediacenter/2987642882/in/photostream/

According to the United States Census and Bureau of Veteran's Affairs:
9.2 million veterans are over the age of 65.1.9 million veterans are under the age of 35.1.8 million veterans are women.7.8 million veterans served during the Vietnam War era (1964-1975), which represents 33% of all living veterans.5.2 million veterans served during the Gulf War (representing service from Aug. 2, 1990, to present).2.6 million veterans served during World War II (1941-1945).2.8 million veterans served during the Korean War (1950-1953).6 million veterans served in peacetime.As of 2008, 2.9 million veterans received compensation for service-connected disabilities.5 states have more than 1 million veterans in among their population: California (2.1 million), Florida (1.7 million), Texas (1.7 million), New York (1 million) and Pennsylvania (1 million).The VA health care system had 54 hospitals in 1930, since then it has expanded to include 171 medical centers; more than 350 outpatient, community, and outreach clinics; 126 nursing home care units; and 35 live-in care facilities for injured or disabled vets.
(this information came from the History Channel and can be found at: http://www.history.com/topics/veterans-day-facts)

Ancient Songs in the Rainforest

What a view! The cruise ship fly over a valley in the rainforest with lush vegetation covering the mountains all around you. You don't know where you are but you like everything you are seeing so far. You wonder if you'll see a monkey? 
This morning at breakfast Tasha had announced you were going to visit a special place deep within a rainforest. She had invited everyone to the deck to watch as the ship would fly over the area then carefully descend deep within a valley. You couldn't pass up the offer. You are beginning to go from a love/hate relationship with the ship to a friendship. 
The ship lowers to the ground with a soft thump. You clutch the rails, bracing yourself as the ship settles into place. Large, magnificent trees block your view of the sky. This was going to be an amazing adventure! You just wonder why Tasha had told everyone to wear their swimsuits under their clothes.
[image error] Wrights Lookout By: certified sue
@http://www.flickr.com/photos/certifie...
Hello and welcome to the Cove! My name is Rrawk and this is my student Tsabai. As you can see, our home here is surrounded by a dense rainforest on three sides and the waters of the Cove to the north. Follow us down the path to the Cove and we will show you how we communicate with our Ancestors in the ocean. There are three steep sandy portions on the trail. Tsabai will demonstrate how we get down these sections and then I will show you a fun way you can go down safely.
As you can see, Tsabai is able to slide down this steep part on his feet. I am told it is like what you call “skiing.” What I suggest you do is sit on your bum like this. Now I will bend my knees, bring them to my chest, wrap my arms around my legs like so, and weeee!
Good, you all made it. From here we can see the waters of the Cove and its white sand beach. Out beyond the calm waters is the deep ocean. That is where our Ancestors live. You may know them as Whales. What you probably don't know is that hundreds of thousands of years ago our Ancestors lived on land, just like we all do now. Lets get all the way down to the beach and I will tell you more.
Tsabai is preparing himself to communicate with the Ancestors now. There are only two rules for entering the waters of our Cove. First, we must ask for permission and protection from our Ancestors out in the Ocean. Tsabai will now enter the water with his calling sticks. Once he wades out to about waist high, he will rub these two carved sticks against each other in the water. The carvings are specially made to create a vibration in the water that our Ancestors can understand. Now you notice that he has quit using the calling sticks and is floating on his back. He is now communicating with the Ancestors. This leads us to the second rule, never enter the water alone except in an extreme emergency. Everyone watch closely. We are looking for any signs of man eaters in the water. You are looking for a large fin cruising along the surface of the water. Don't see any? Good!
Now for the story. As I told you, our Ancestors used to live on the land like we do now. But your Ancestors came to this place from somewhere else. Your Ancestors have a long history of traveling to planets and doing destructive things to the land and animals. Eventually, they always ruin the place and move on to another. Our Ancestors knew this and so they decided to move back into the Ocean to avoid these people. But some of them stayed on land to keep the ancient knowledge alive. Here in this place. It was hoped that we could one day teach the Aliens how to live in harmony with the oceans and lands of this world. We have a saying here, “Information is never lost.” We are the keepers of much information. Information on how to travel other realms, for example.
I see that Tsabai has returned and we feel it is safe for us to all have a swim. It is a nice place to swim and Tsabai and I will watch over you. So enjoy! There is only one more thing. If you see a large fish which is red, yellow, and black do not touch this fish! They will not harm you so long as you do not touch them. Have a great swim everyone and remember this day always. Remember that information is never lost! [image error]

Bio 
[image error] Ed lives in Portland, Oregon where he teaches, performs, writes, and records. Ed has performed with Francis Firebrace-Jones, a Yorti Yorti story teller, with Australian Folk Musician and songwriter Clancey Dunn, Jawighe, Michael Stirling, Jawihge, Randy Graves, Stephen Kent, Dave Crowder and Land of the Blind. 
Websiteshttp://www.EdDrury.comAmazon http://www.amazon.com/Ed-Drury/e/B005M2HAQ8/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1 Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/eddrury 

It's Elementary, Doctor Watson

Fog again. You sigh. The last time the cruise ship was in a mist of fog you were on your way to a mysterious island where a female convict was going to give you a tour of her "Special" island. Yeah, it was special alright. You still won't forget how you almost died in that blitz attack. But thankfully the military escorting you and the rest of your cruise mates didn't allow any harm to come to you. 

You shiver as a stream of cold air passed through the hallway. You would recognize that slight chill anywhere. The ship must have travelled through a time portal. It was wild the way you were beginning to notice the differences between traveling through the time portal, a slip portal that slipped you through different dimensions,  when the ship was flying or when it was acting like a real cruise ship. Each method has it's own unique feel to it. Maybe this cruise wasn't a bad idea after all. 
"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain inside as we begin our descent upon London. The fog is thick today and we want to ensure your safety. We will be landing on the Thames River. We have provided the proper attire for your visit today. If everyone would look in their wardrobe you should find your attire. Please dress in the clothes we have provided. Anyone who is not wearing them will not be allowed off the boat. You have one hour to prepare. And when we disembark from our vessel there will be a way for you to return to the ship until the tour has concluded. The ship will be invisible. The thickness of the fog will ensure no one of this time period is able to see us leave our vessel. Please no camera, cell phones or other electrical devices. They were no invited yet and we do not need to cause any curiosity or we risk disrupting our own timeline. Thank you," Tasha ordered over the speaker.

You stop in the hall as you hear a child beside you scream with delight. You peer to your left. A young girl jumps up and down with a white Victorian dress in her hand. Victorian? London? You smile thinking. Could it be, Watson? The cruise ship has taken you to meet Sherlock Holmes?

[image error] London Fog by gwire
@ http://www.flickr.com/photos/gwire/54... H. Watson MD meets you at the station and escorts you to the rooms in 221B Baker-street that he shares with the consulting detective, Mr. Sherlock HolmesI would like to bid you a very warm welcome to London. Yes, I fear that it is a trifle foggy, and the smoke is a little thick at times. You may care to wrap the muffler around your nose and mouth. Many people find this of assistance.
Please also take note of where you place your feet. My warning came too late, it would appear. I am sorry about this. The crossing-sweepers of today are an idle bunch of rogues, and the constant traffic of carriages and omnibuses inevitably means that the horses will leave their offerings in the most inconvenient places. Mrs. Hudson will take your boots when we arrive at Baker-street, never fear.The Underground will take us there in no time, and you will find no horses to further dirty your boots. The Metropolitan Line of the underground railway is a little smoky, but even so, it is convenient. Yes, it is the first of its kind in the world. We are very proud of it here in London.
Now if you will just leave your boots here, Mrs. Hudson will clean them for you presently. Up the seventeen stairs, and we will go into the room. Mr. Holmes is absent at the moment, but allow me to move the violin off the chair for you to sit and make yourself comfortable.There. A cup of tea, or something a little stronger, perhaps? Tea? I will ring for Mrs. Hudson in that case. A cigar? Yes? Perhaps the coal-scuttle is a slightly eccentric location for cigars, but I can assure you that they taste none the worse for it. Pray do feel free to examine the accoutrements of the room while we await our refreshment.
Ah, you are admiring the wall with the decoration of VR in bullet-marks. Handsome, do you not think? I am afraid that these did annoy the neighbours somewhat when Mr. Holmes whiled away an afternoon with a box of cartridges and his hair-trigger pistol. Maybe eccentric, I agree, but he is one of the great men of our age, and I think much may be forgiven genius, do you not agree?Mrs. Hudson, some tea, and some of your admirable seed-cake, if you would be so kind. Now where was I? Ah yes, you are admiring the bookshelves. An eclectic collection, is it not? No, please do not attempt to rearrange them. I remember doing just that once, and incurring the wrath of Sherlock Holmes.
The lens is a very fine instrument, which Mr. Holmes had imported from Germany. The snuff box is a gift from a grateful client whose name I am not at liberty to divulge.I would strongly advise you not to touch that flask on the table there. It contains bichloride of mercury, and it is part of a particularly delicate experiment connected with the Camberwell poisoning case. Oh, I perceive that you did handle that apparatus. In that case, I would advise you to wash your hands well before partaking of the tea and cake which I now hear Mrs. Hudson bringing to us.


[image error] Hugh Ashton came from the UK to Japan in 1988 to work as a technical writer, and has remained in the country ever since. He still makes his living by putting words on paper (or to be more precise, words onto a computer screen), but in a slightly different field. He now writes commentaries and reports on business, specialising in the financial and technology fields, and conducts interviews with Japanese industry leaders, etc.
However, when he can find time, one of his main loves is writing fiction, which he has been doing since he was about eight years old. It has only been recently, though, that he has seen his fictional words in print. His alternate history novel, Beneath Gray Skies, set in a world where the American Civil War never took place, and the Confederates of the 1920s make an alliance with the German National Socialist party, was received to critical acclaim. At the Sharpe End, an account of life in Tokyo set against the backdrop of the 2008 Wall Street crash, and featuring gangsters, with British, American and North Korean agents, all in pursuit of a piece of technology that could change the financial world, has been described as one the most authentic accounts in contemporary fiction of expatriate life in Tokyo. Red Wheels Turning, set in the same alternate history universe as Beneath Gray Skies, followed in 2011. [image error] As a long-time admirer of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famous detective, Sherlock Holmes, Hugh has often wanted to complete the canon of the stories by writing the stories which are tantalizingly mentioned in passing by Watson, but never published. His latest offering of three such stories brings Sherlock Holmes to life again, with one reviewer remarking that “my beloved Sherlock was portrayed with great skill”, and another that “Ashton nails the mannerisms of both Holmes and Watson to a tee as well as weaving a mystery that rivals that of, dare I say it? Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, himself”.
More Sherlock Holmes stories from the same source are definitely on the cards, as Hugh continues to recreate 221B Baker Street from the relatively exotic location of Kamakura, Japan, a little south of Tokyo.
Beneath Gray Skies (and blog on publishing and writing) – http://BeneathGraySki.es
At the Sharpe End – http://www.AtTheSharpeEnd.com
Red Wheels Turning – http://RedWheelsTurning.com

Check out all of Hugh's books athttp://www.inknbeans.com/hugh-ashton.html

A Small Town Romance

Ah, finally, something you recognize. You peer over the side of the cruise ship as he begins its descent over a small town in Indiana. After the crazy adventure you had yesterday on the mysterious island with the convict leading you through the wilds you needed some sense of normality. Tasha and Dalton had never learned you had taken the Map of Atlantis from the previous journey. You were grateful for that. There was no telling what would have happened to you if they ever learned the truth.

Sunlight gently pours upon you as the little ant like structures begin to grow larger beneath you. You read the town sign. Dirks, Indiana. Interesting enough name for a town. You had never heard of it before. Must be one of those hole in the walls that never get placed on the map. You love small towns. The best ones were the ones so far out from any major town that they develop their own way of doing things. You wonder if Dirks is anything like that.

[image error] Downtown Booneville, By: W. Marsh
 http://www.flickr.com/photos/40943981...




Hi! My name is Olivia St. James, but you can call me Liv. Feel free to ask any questions while we tour around the fabulous city of Dirks, Indiana. I’m sure many of you have never heard of the place, but for me, it was the beginning of a lifetime.No, there are no celebrities here. When you turn every corner, the only thing you’ll find are kids running around, enjoying being young and carefree. There are no hot clubs to dive into while waiting to board the ship again. There’s just a small little park with five benches, all white. They overlook a pond that has random rosebushes that grow each spring. Yep, that’s about it, unless you want to count the endless supplies of great friends and opportunities for new love.To your right, you’ll see the apartment buildings that I moved into when I moved away from home. It also started the rest of my life. I met my best friend there at a dinner party and the rest is history. His name is Blake and we’ll be passing by the university where he works before long, but before we get there, we’ll be picking up my life-long friend, Sarah, and her baby, Jake.Long story short, her baby is the son of my ex-boyfriend who died in a plane crash earlier this year. Believe me, letting go of that one was not the easiest thing, but there’s an innocent baby and I had a big decision to make. I could hold a grudge or understand that true love finds you, sometimes at the worst possible time. But, if you hold on tight and trust in fate, love finds a way to you, to everyone. I’m not talking about that fake kind that they make sappy movies about. I’m talking about the kind you live your whole life waiting for. When you can look at the person you chose to spend the rest of your life with every day and still melt when they brush the hair from your shoulder and placed their warm lips on your skin, causing your knees to buckle from under you, with the only thing keeping you from falling is the love the two of you share.When you board that cruise ship later this afternoon, remember one thing…no matter what size the town is that you visit, no matter what the physical attributes portray, that tree that you pass by on your way out of town may just be where a marriage started, where love began for two people.That’s the stuff worth fighting for. So, to hold a grudge isn’t what life is all about. Love is.
[image error] Melissa Cameron is the author of OLIVIA and SARAH. She currently is working on a paranormal romance book series with two other contemporary romance manuscripts in editing. She resides in Indiana with her husband, Kevin, and two children, Kelley and Corey. Stay tuned; great things are coming from this up and coming author.
You can learn more about this author at:
www.melissa-cameron.com
https://twitter.com/mcameron_author
http://www.facebook.com/groups/kindleauthors/#!/pages/Author-page-for-Melissa-Cameron/165137887498


Check out Melissa Cameron's wonderful novels!

[image error] Olivia St. James sobs as Jake Lance, her boyfriend of two years, leaves Arizona to play football on a full scholarship for a college in Alabama. She's not sure how she is going to handle the pain of a long-distance relationship; saying goodbye to Jake is the most difficult moment of her life. Both Olivia and Jake believe their love will survive this test, and that one day they will be together forever.Olivia, too, embarks on her own passage of self-discovery. Leading a self-described sheltered life, she spreads her wings and leaves the comforts of home to attend college in Indiana. But during her first week on campus, Olivia encounters something she isn't looking for-Blake Carmichael, a handsome professor at her new university.When Jake unexpectedly visits Olivia during a free weekend, the two must come to terms with their relationship. Olivia wonders if Jake can sense her growing attraction for Blake. And, Jake has something serious that he must discuss with Olivia. Will their love endure?

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Senior year is quickly coming to a close for four teenage friends. Each looks forward to pursuing their dreams after high school graduation. Sarah Parker plans to move to Los Angeles and become an actress, and Ryan, her boyfriend of three years, is going to Atlanta to play baseball. Olivia St. James is heading to Indiana to attend college, and her boyfriend, Jake Lance, has the opportunity to play quarterback at the University of Alabama. But even the best-laid plans sometimes go awry.During the summer after graduation, Sarah and Jake accidentally discover they have strong feelings for each other. As their relationship escalates, they must deal with the effects it has on their friendships and their futures.A coming-of-age romance novel, Sarah follows the life of Sarah in her journey to womanhood as she comes face-to-face with betrayal and reconciliation, the consequences of an unplanned pregnancy, the depths of grief, and the ecstatic highs of love. 

Stay Close and Stay Alive!

You stand in your cabin, looking out the widow towards the horizon disappointed, nervous and afraid. After the cruise ship had left the island yesterday, the ship had travelled through portal. You knew the ship was capable of amazing things. Hadn't you seen it fly or sail down rivers that were too small for the large ship to navigate? You had suspected the ship was using some sort of portal and wondered if the ship was part of a secret government experiment.  No matter how much you try to convince yourself this trip had been the worst decision of your life, you find yourself having the best time of your life.

You take a sip of your coffee and turned your eyes towards the map you stole yesterday, grinning. With this map you would have the proof you need to tell the world about this amazing vessel and the things it can do. You had to be careful, though. Tasha and Dalton could never know you had stolen it. You had raced with fear yesterday afternoon when Rudy and Trish's boat had jumped through the portal behind you. Dalton and Tasha had a strict rule when it came to the boat. Only passengers and employees were allowed on board. Instead of confronting their uninvited guest, they opened another portal, jumped the ship and then fired upon gateway holding the portal in place, ensuring Rudy and Trish's vessel couldn't jump through. After the commotion was over, Dalton and Tasha had called a ship wide meeting. They had asked if anyone had given reason for Rudy and Trish to follow them. You had no idea what would happen if Dalton and Tasha ever learned the truth and you didn't want to find out. Dalton and Tasha dismissed the meeting. They told everyone to go to bed. When you awoke this morning, you found the temperature had dropped significantly. Fog had enveloped the seas so thick you couldn't see anything. It had to be the work of Tasha. She was a ROTC cadet and the military presence on the ship had doubled over night.

"Good morning, everyone," Tasha's voice came over the speaker. You laid your coffee down, grabbed the map, rolled it up and hid deep in your backpack. "I hope you all enjoyed your rest. This morning we will be meeting a friend of mine. She lives on secret island and is a convict."

You're eyes open wide. Convict? Tasha was sending you on tour with a convict?


[image error] Artist :Kitt Lapeña
Yes, I’m a convict. I was banished to the Fringe District two years ago, and if you newbies plan on staying alive around here, you’re gonna want to hear what I have to say.
Firstly, get familiar with the geography of this place: [image error]

Don’t stray too far West. There’s a freshwater lake near the Eastern edge of the woods—don’t go any farther than that. The Lurkers roam beyond the lake and they’re faster, stronger and more vicious than any of you. They’re human, yes, but they’re … primal. They don’t speak—at least, they don’t use English—they’re uncivilized and they’re cannibals. Not to mention, the West coast of the island—the Buffer Zone—faces the Unknown Territories. Those regions haven’t ever been explored, and there’s no telling what could be out there. Stay well away.
Another area you might want to avoid is South Town. It’s mostly slums, and it’s so dirty you could contract cholera just by looking at it. South Town is where you end up when you’ve got nowhere else to go, or you’re hiding from your bookie. It’s a good place to disappear, since it’s overcrowded and Police Division Agents don’t like to patrol there.
If you’re looking for work, your best bet is Mid Town. That’s where most of the businesses are. Whether you want to pull pints or test mattresses, you’ll find someone willing to take you on. If you’re strong and have experience working with animals, you can try your hand in a butcher shop. And by that, I mean one of the bars where they hold pit fights—not a place where you buy meat. Butcher shops are one of the few forms of live ‘entertainment’ that you’ll find here. Besides the whorehouses, of course.
[image error] Artist: Kitt LapeñaEvery night, two Chimera are thrown into a pit and forced to fight each other while the establishment’s patrons place bets. It’s a fight to the death, and the loser becomes dinner.
 Finally, North Town is the Fringe District’s equivalent of an industrial sector. It’s where most of the District’s manufacturing is done, and it’s the least residential. It’s a common meeting ground for snitches to meet with their Police Division Liaisons, and it’s also the place where the enforcement bay is located.

The enforcement bay is where capital punishment is carried out. In other words, it’s where criminals are shot in the head. So, if you’re going to break the law, try really hard not to get caught. Else you never know: I might be the one they hire to pull the trigger.



Author bio: Keira Michelle is a British ex-pat, now living in British Columbia, Canada. She is the author of a 10-book series of post-apocalyptic, dystopian science fiction books, all centering on the lead character of Ella 'Silver' Cross. The first book in this series, Acheron, was released Nov 2011. The next book, Inamorato (the sixth book in the series), is due to be released later this year.
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Buy link:http://www.amazon.com/SILVER-Acheron-River-Pain-ebook/dp/B0067YBYU8/ref=sr_1_1_title_1_kin?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1346187381&sr=1-1&keywords=keira+michelle+telford

A Mysterious Island

You can't believe your eyes. Dolphins playfully jump out of the crystal clear waters. Such beauty surrounds you. You wonder where you are. Yesterday, the cruise ship had dried dock in the 1940's Ohio Valley. It had been a very interesting trip. You hadn't thought about what life would have been like after the Great Depression, let alone rural areas of Southern Ohio. You had enjoyed every moment of the tour. The Great Serpent Mound and Star Crater were very fascinating. You plan to revisit the area when you return home from the cruise. Yet would the descendants of the family you had met still be there or perhaps someone you had meet? You shake your head, dismissing the thought. It would be better if you didn't make contact with the family. How could you explain your presence. You would seem to them as if you hadn't aged. A miracle facial cream?
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention," Dalton's voice over the loudspeaker echoes throughout the ship. "We will be making a brief detour in order to fix....uhm....I mean gather supplies at....uhm... excuse me." You hear what sounds like Dalton placing his hand over the microphone. You can barely make out the muffled voices of Tasha and Dalton. "Where are we,' Dalton asked."I don't know. Make something up," Tasha answered. Dalton comes back over the speaker, "We will arrive at the island in a few moments. We would HIGHLY encourage everyone to accompany Tasha to the island."

[image error]


I tumble out of bed, my bare feet hitting the floor I stand and stretch. Trish had already left for her morning swim in our tiny island's lagoon. As I pull on my britches and step out the door of our house, the one I had built with my own hands, I couldn't help but feel like there was something special about today. Something kept tickling the back of my brain, like that nagging feeling one gets right before they remember the birthday or anniversary they had forgotten. What was it?
That's when I turn towards the sea and gasp at the largest ship I had ever seen, your ship! It was even bigger than the Colossus, Captain Stryder's pirate vessel. And no sails? What manner of magic was this?
Brigid, Trish's father's oracle, had told us that we would get some strange visitors today. And was she right. I watch a smaller vessel headed for shore, a churning of water behind it as it moved across the calm surface with a strange buzzing noise. I can see maybe twenty of you on board. I rush back in and put on a shirt and boots, getting ready to make my way down to greet you. I only hope Trish gets back before you discover her true nature.
I don’t think most humans are ready to find out mermaids are real.
***********
Trish makes her way towards our home from the leeward side of the island; it is a large expansive structure, sporting a wraparound porch that gleamed in the morning sun, with two dormers that faced the open sea. I watch her as she shields her eyes with her hand, as I make my way towards the wharf, which was built to accommodate the West India ships. Ships that make their way here for trade of her store’s fare and rum. Nevertheless, the ship anchored offshore is not one of the West India’s, that boasted large billowing sails, but something far different, and your vessel that is docking is nothing short of impressive. I notice you sitting among a gaggle of colorfully dressed and over-exuberant occupants. With elegance, beauty, and smoothness of form Trish waves to all of you and I can’t help but smile.
I’m having a conversation with the leader of your group, who has introduced herself as Tasha. I find it fascinating that a woman is in charge of what seems to be such a large expedition. She is explaining that you had come through some kind of bizarre storm and stopped here for supplies, when Trish walks up. Breathing a silent sigh of relief that you haven't seen her natural form, I turn to her and smile. “Trish, love, these fine people are in need of supplies, I was just going to bring them up to the trading post.”
I don’t truly understand what must have happened to you; there was not a cloud in the sky and there was a light breeze coming off of the water. As usual, the weather was perfect. Chatting with you and the other passengers, Trish and I make our way up the beach, leading you to the small building that Trish had used for cover in the human world for years. No one had ever been the wiser ... until she’d met me.
With a twinkle in her eye, Trish watches the gaggle of twittering females follow me up from the wharf. You and the others make your way towards the cooler confines of the trading post. Once across the large expanse of the porch, you dip your head and enter into the semi-darkness.  As your eyes become accustomed, Trish maneuvers her way towards the bar.  “Ladies,” she says nodding her head, “and gentlemen may we offer you some libation, something to refresh you after your weary trip perhaps?”
I make quick work of lopping off the heads of coconuts and pineapples; my smile is broad and welcoming as I make one of Trish’s favorite mixtures, that of the local rum and coconut milk, pouring the remains into the hollowed-out pineapple with a decisive flair.  Unwrapping hardened cheeses and taking a large scoop of crackers from the barrel aside the bar, Trish sits a fare of food before you.
A few of the ladies wander around the trading post examining some of the brightly colored woven cloths and island trinkets the children had made to sell, while the men sample a stronger draught of rum and look over all the gear that hangs from the eaves full of fishing paraphernalia.
After I had gotten some food and drink together, I notice you looking over some parchment on a table in the store.  “What's this?” you ask. My eyes go wide as I rush over. I realize I had left one of the maps out that I had been working on ... maps that were not meant for public consumption.
I take the map of Atlantis from you and rolled it up quickly. “Oh, nothing, just some drawings I was looking at. Please, come get something to eat.”  I can tell your natural curiosity had arisen.  What I don’t know was that you have identified that something was off about this whole scene, being well-versed in history.  Our dress and speech patterns, everything about the buildings scream “old” to you, given where … when … you are from.  You watch me quizzically as I head to the back, hiding the map away and getting some of the supplies that you and the crew of the strange ship need.
Trish’s head pops up as I bustle past her with the rolled up piece of vellum in my hand; she knows what it is without looking.  “Ladies and gentlemen,” nodding to the men of your group, “did I hear someone asking for a tour?”  Ushering you out onto the open veranda, she directs, “Please if you will follow me.” She trips lightly down the steps, her feet landing in the sugary white sand, the soft sea air blowing her hair back.  I follow quickly, not noticing that you had circled back around to the opposite side of the trading post, waiting for us to leave.
“Now this,” she starts, taking on the guise of a tour guide as she waves towards our house, “is our home.  The structure was built upon the original site of the hut I occupied before Rudy and I met.” She smiles at the memory.  “He being the man that he is, set about building us a much larger home.” She sees a few of the men’s chests puff up and the nods of their heads told her they would have also provided the necessities for their own mates.  “With the assistance of some of the islander men, in no time he had us a lovely two-story home built by his own hands.”
One of the ladies asks, “Why a two-story home?”
I answer as I catch up with the group, “Because, someday we might need it.”  I grin and exchange a knowing glance with my wife.
Not noticing that you are not with the rest of the group, we spend the next half-hour or so showing them around the beach and telling them about the small sailing vessel that was secured there, one that Trish and I could easily handle ourselves.  Then I help the men load the small ship they had used to come ashore with supplies, and the group shove off with you having slipped back among them.
***********
We re-enter the trading post to clean up from the visit.  “They were certainly an interesting group,” I say as I head to the back while Trish starts cleaning up the bar.
“They were so unusual.  And how they were dressed?  Looks like I might need to get to the mainland to see what the latest human fashions are.”  That’s when I bellow a loud curse from the back and come rushing out.  “What?  What is it?”
I go to the door and glare out as your small vessel docks with the larger one.  “The map is gone.  One of them must have taken it.”  I turn to Trish, remembering your interest.  “And I think I know who.”  I give her a sardonic half-smile.  “Are you ready for another adventure my love?”
She looks concerned at first, but then we lock eyes and she couldn’t help but smile herself.  Somehow, when we were together it made any situation, no matter how bleak, seem hopeful.  That was one of many things we loved about each other.  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As we head down the beach to get aboard our own ship, your massive white vessel starts to turn out to sea as clouds start to gather over our small island; then without warning, a strange blue energy starts to form in the ship’s path.  It’s something only a few in our world had seen, but Trish and I are two of them.  As your ship enters the swirling vortex that had formed, I get onboard ours and weigh anchor.  “Looks like this might be a more interesting trip than we thought.”  We pull away from the pier and speed towards the hole as your giant ship vanishes, and enter behind you just as it closes …
***********
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Rudy and Trish's published adventure began with the short story "Tears of the Mermaid" by Aaron Speca and Patricia Laffoon in the "Evernight Vol. 1" anthology from Allison Cassatta ...
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Evernight_-ebook/dp/B005NWT9LQ/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_t
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... and continues in "Heart of the Mermaid", the prequel in "Evernight Vol. 2" ...




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