Allison Bruning's Blog, page 58

September 7, 2012

Back to the Sea Witch

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The mechanic bull jerkes back and forth as Dalton tries to stay on-top. Cheers of encouragement lift from the small crowd that has gathered around the mechanical apparatus.  You make your way through the crowd to watch your Mexican-American host as he tackles to keep his balance. He clutches his black Stetson hat with his outstretched arm. You are amazed how easy he makes it all look. If you were ontop of that thing you would have fallen off the first time the bull had jerked. You wonder just how long Dalton had been riding bulls. He had told you he was a college level bull rider and wanted to go professional. Was he nuts? There's a big difference between riding a mechanical bull and riding a real one. You wonder what ever motivated him to endanger his life like that.  
"Dalton," Tasha yells running down the deck just as the mechanical bull stops. You watch him dismount. Dalton walks to her and you listen in on their conversation. "The Sea Witch is approaching," she tells him.
The Sea Witch!
You smile thinking of the good time you had with the Caribbean captain and can't wait to see him again. What adventures await for you today?

[image error] Photo by Paolo Costa Baldi. License: GFDL/CC-BY-SA 3.0


"Welcome back. Glad to see you on board with us again. The weather sure has been nice today for sailing. On the horizon though I've been seeing some clouds beginning to build that I need to keep an eye on so we don’t end up in trouble. Do you see them hanging low over there?"
"Hey Cherise, our visitor is back! Why don't you come over and say hi to our visitor?”
“She’s not coming over I guess. I don't know why but she really likes to sit in the bow most of the time we're moving. Well, it was nice that she at least waved at you."
"Would you like to see where we are exactly right now? Come with me and we'll check the Loran and the charts. Quite an amazing thing that Loran is, it tells you right where you're at. Watch your head as you come in the hatch as the opening is kind of low. Wouldn't want you to bang your head, we're kind of used to having to duck our heads by now."
"Here's the stack of charts, let's pull out the right one for where we're at. There it is, the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. See the read out on the Loran unit here; it gives you the latitude and longitude for where you are at. I guess it works on towers on the shore and the way the signal crosses. Beyond that I don't know but it’s pretty accurate."
"Now you just take those numbers and find out where they land on the chart. See, we're right here it looks like we have about 80 nauts further to go to Christiansted. I don't know exactly what that figures out to in miles."
"Oh yeah, it is a pretty small space isn't it? Guess they couldn't make the galley any larger given the size of the boat. It's only 20 feet long and 7 feet wide but it has everything we need including a stove and of course this small table."
"You're leaving us again so soon? Well, it’s nice seeing you again and I'd better get back to the wheel and check the compass to make sure we're on course. Have a great day."Brian will be giving a copy of his book the Sea Witch to the first five people to comment on this blog posting.

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About the author: Brian Bigelow is originally from Minnesota and currently lives in Colorado with his wife, a cat and a very protective Chihuahua that risks life and limb to save his "family" from running leaves, fire hydrants and the like.

Blog: http://brian-bigelow.blogspot.com/
Amazon:Kindle http://www.amazon.com/The-Sea-Witch-ebook/dp/B008E5LDAE/Paperback http://www.amazon.com/The-Sea-Witch-Brian-Bigelow/dp/1478175761/
Smashwords:https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/174884
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-sea-witch-brian-bigelow/1112041185
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/The-Sea-Witch/book-5Rri64LOHEWl5Xxapyb7DA/page1.html?s=HT-p7eXwyUeCb4JtPBA1gA&r=1
Sony: http://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/brian-bigelow/the-sea-witch/_/R-400000000000000762479

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Published on September 07, 2012 06:05

September 6, 2012

A Tour of Oltramari, Part Two


[image error] The mid-morning sun casts its rays upon the busy piazza as you sit at the round table outside the restaurant trying to recall yesterday's events. Was it all a dream? You can only recall bits and pieces of the tour in a secret facility and the transportation device. One minute you were on the cruise ship then the next in an elevator?  What happened from then to this morning? This morning was typical enough, typical for the cruise at least. You woke up  this morning in a daze then Tasha announced to everyone breakfast would be served in the Oltramari piazza. It was as if you had never left the 19th century, Sicilian destination. But you had to have left this time period because you can recall your tour guides dressed in modern clothes. You shake your head. Maybe it was all a dream. You sip on your Italian coffee and watch some of the children from the cruise play. Its a beautiful day and you love watching the residents of 19th century Oltramari go about their daily routines. Suddenly a familiar woman rushes down the piazza towards your group. Dalton rises from his table and signals from the group to come together. Your tour is about to begin.    
[image error] Photo: A view of Taormina. Credit: gnuckx (Flickr), Creative Commons.
Good to see so many have returned. Noisy last night in the piazza—an altercation between some of the soldiers and deserters, I understand. I hope none of you had trouble sleeping. You, sir, better sit down in the park over there, you look a little tired. We’ll pick you up at the end of the tour.Well, on we go.You’ll remember the other day we talked about the Duomo and statue and all those churchy things. Now it’s time for shopping.All around the piazza are Oltramari’s finest shops—the embalmer next to the Duomo, my family’s apothecary shop on the other side—good for tonics of all sorts—the shoemaker here (you’ll remember him from NO MORE BROTHERS), the baker over there, the butcher, the dry goods store, the sweet shop and Boffo’s Café (again, had a big role in NO MORE BROTHERS) and don’t forget Oltramari’s finest milliner. Their corsets use the best baleen stiffeners, and at a special price. After the tour, you’ll have time to shop, no doubt.So, to continue. Turn around.Directly across from the Duomo is the Municipal Building. It houses the local subprefect and commissioner, the archives, the police, the carabinieri, the local courts, lawyers, judges, AND last and least, our know-nothing inspector, Colonna who, unfortunately, appears in both DEATH OF A SERPENT and NO MORE BROTHERS. In the basement is the jail, a despicable keep built by those nasty Bourbons. Not worth a visit—no one comes out alive.Before we migrated to New York, my family lived in that villa in back of the public gardens. It was built by my more affluent ancestors. See it? The one with the light rose ochre façade peeking through the palms, the viridian shutters, wrought iron gates, bougainvillea climbing the wall, chestnut tree in front. Lovely, the gardens, especially when Carmela tended them. Our stable’s in the back where we keep the mules, the family carriage, and the trap I use for visiting. Of course, now that I’m immortal, I flit here and there whenever I want.Down the road from the Municipal Building are the straw market, the black smith, the public stables. Above us is the promenade. From its height when the light is clear, we can see all the way to Mt. Etna or peer  down to the fishing village below.Directly behind the Duomo is Via Serpentina. It winds down to the sea through rough neighborhoods with windowless hovels and narrow alleyways that shoot this way and that, crossing and double-crossing, ending abruptly in dusty piazzas with dry fountains. A perfect place for intrigue.You’re bored, I can tell. I was going to show you the arena and Rosa’s villa, wind up at Boffo’s for a caffè, but that’s for another day. Questions?
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Our destination today was written by author, Susan Anderson. After attending Marywood High School for Girls and St. Mary’s College, Notre Dame, Susan received a B.A. in English Literature from Marquette University.Susan is a writer, a mother, a grandmother, a widow, a member of Sisters In Crime. She's taught language arts and creative writing, worked for a publisher, an airline, an opera company. Traveled. Grew up on the north side of Chicago, but lived most of her adult life in the east. So, like Faulkner’s Dilsey, she's seen the best and the worst, the first and the last. She's seen worlds blow apart and life turn inside out in less time than it takes to type this sentence. Through it all, and to understand it somewhat, she write. [image error] DEATH OF A SERPENT, the first in the Serafina Florio series, published January 2012. It began as a painting of the Lower East Side and wound up as a mystery story. She just published NO MORE BROTHERS, a novella, the second in the Serafina Florio series and is working on the third Serafina book, DEATH IN BAGHERIA. In between writing, revising and editing she reviews books and blogs. Her website can be found at http://susanrussoanderson.comHer books may be found on amazon at:http://www.amazon.com/Susan-Russo-Anderson/e/B006VCJ0ZC/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1346765377&sr=8-2-ent

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Published on September 06, 2012 04:54

September 5, 2012

The Secret Destination


Ribbons of red, orange and yellow sunlight melt together as the sun rises beautifully over Sicily. You smile thinking how peaceful it is to be out on the Mediterranean Sea with a cup of Italian coffee without a care in the world. You think about the concerns you had when you had started the cruise. Who would have believed a cruise ship dry docked in the middle of the desert would have ever brought you the Caribbean and Mediterranean Seas. This trip was more than wonderful. It was perfect! Even if the ship couldn't travel thousands of miles in one night, fly, or somehow magically grant you your every hearts desire, the chance to escape the daily grind of your life was more than satisfying.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the sound of Dalton's voice over the loud speaker interrupts your thoughts. "Good morning. As you may have already noticed, Tasha and I have not ordered for our ship to move."
Your heart jumps. You had been so caught up in the beauty of your surroundings that you had never noticed the ship never moved. Feelings of dread form in your mind. Oh, no. Maybe the ship broke and you're stranded in the Mediterranean Sea. Halfway around the world where you don't even speak the language!
As if Dalton could read your mind, he continues. "Do not fear, everyone. The ship is in perfect working condition. Our new destination cannot be reached by boat but we must transport you there via our teleporation machine."
Transport? Are we on the USS Enterprise now?
"We have been granted permission by the authorities to tour a secret facility. As such I cannot give you the location nor the details. At 9am you are all to report to the lowest level of the ship. Tasha and members of her ROTC squad will meet you down below. Once everyone has gathered she will instruct you then accompany you to the facility using our transporter. Oh, and one more thing. Um, well, I don't want to mention it but Tasha said you might need to know. We've never actually been able to transport something to another location without it blowing up on the other end. But Tasha assures me she has it all fixed. Uh, well, alright I'll see you on the other side."
The boat grows silent.

[image error] http://www.flickr.com/photos/10542402...
The glass elevator doors open with a hiss in to a large, open cafeteria. Standing towards the middle, amongst the rows and rows of empty tables, is a woman. Her eyes stare ahead at nothing as she mumbles something to herself. We exit the elevator, looking at the surroundings in boredom and disappointment, after all, who wants to tour a cafeteria? The woman finally takes notice of us and approaches, her black curly hair bounces to and fro. She stops in front of the ground, whips her hair to the side and pushes her black rimmed glasses up her nose. Her purple bangs slide from behind her ear, swinging back and forth in front of her face."Hi there!" Her toothy smile almost touches her ears. "Welcome to HQ, my name is Dixie and I will be taking you through the living sector of the compound." She motions towards an opening in the far wall. "Please, follow me."Dixie turns around and leads us on. "We are roughly 3000 feet below the surface of the earth. HQ was built in 1989 under the guidance of Thomas, as well as the funding and care of the U.S. government. In those days, the compound was nothing more than a single floor of concrete and cinder block. Since then, two more floors, a gymnasium and a housing district have been added. Today's tour will be centered around our park."We mumble and whisper to ourselves. Dixie stops in front of a very long, very wide hallway and motions for us to quiet down."I know you were told..."Mumble, mumble."You were promised a tour of the entire compound. Well, I'm sorry, but at the moment you do not have clearance."We continue our mumbling and grumbling on as we approach a large, metal set of double doors at end of the hallway. They look like something from a spaceship - large and wide, the doors meet vertically at the center of the hall. Dixie presses a code into the security keypad on the wall, humming along to the beeps of each key press. The doors respond with a click and there’s a long drawn out hiss as they are pulled into the walls by hydraulics."The issue is being resolved at this very moment, until then we will take a walk through the park."A lush field of green grass welcomes us from the other side of the opening. Shades of yellows, blues, reds and pinks blossom from the flowers above the grass line. Tall, broad trees shoot up into the cloudy sky. We make our way in and so begins the tour.Skipping as slowly as she can, Dixie stays slightly ahead of the pack. "By now you have noticed the sky. It’s computer generated, but from this distance you can’t tell. All the plant-life: trees, grass, flowers, all of it is very much real. The scientists on the research floor developed a spray that circumvents the need for photosynthesis. The plants still release oxygen into the air, giving us the air we are breathing now."We give no indication that we heard, much less cared for the information - mostly because we don't. Dixie ignores their disinterest and general attitudes, smiling the entire time. We continue our walk down a paved path surrounded by foliage, listening to the sound of birds singing and the rustling of the leaves. The path is partially shaded from the noonday sun. Beams of sunlight break through the treetops and touch down on to the ground in a scattered fashion. The occasional jogger drifts off the path to make way for us.Dixie turns around and walks backwards, addressing all of us. "Another feature of this park is it's psychological effects on the employees. As you know, very few of us are allowed, or even willing to go above ground. Part of the reason our employees are so eager to stay is that they still get to enjoy the benefits of living topside, but without all the potential violence that one would experience elsewhere. Without this park and its illusion of open space, our employees would most likely require psychiatric treatment, like those who have had prolonged exposure to confined, isolated spaces."Mumble, mumble."As a matter of fact I do have a doctorate in psychology and anthropology as well. I'm happy to show you the studies if you'd care to read them."Silence.The tour circles around and heads back to the main entrance. The remainder of the tour is spent with Dixie listening to us complain about having to visit an underground park and not seeing any of the weapons or defensive equipment that is made a level above. She says nothing – pretending to ignore every word of it."There you have it, ze park! Please follow me to Thomas's office. He wanted to personally thank you folks for coming by. He wanted to run this tour himself, but things are quite busy for him these days."We make our way to a wooden door several feet down from the elevator. Strange symbols are etched into the door frame that none of us recognize and don't ask about - we won't get a straight answer anyways. Dixie contemplates using the security pad next to the door, but then decides to simply knock. She raps out "shave and a haircut" on the door and backs up. The door clicks and out walks an older man with dusted gray hair. He stands a couple inches shorter than Dixie, with his arms to his sides."Hello everyone, my name is Thomas. Welcome to HQ, I trust Dixie has been a worthy hostess and tour guide for such a prestigious group?""Of course, boss." Dixie does a curtsey and enters Thomas's office.He clasps his hands in front of him. "Excellent. I'm sorry that I couldn't have guided you myself, but I have had business to attend to that couldn't be postponed."Mumble, mumble."Yes. I understand you want to see the rest of the facility. The clearance has been granted. I will let you get back to your tour in a moment, but there is one thing I need to state before I do that - something rather important that all of you need to be aware of. So please, I need your full attention."Thomas looks over the group, waiting for everyone to look his way. He raises his hands in to the air and claps once. A ripple of air extends from Thomas's body and through ours. A rush of confusion and dizziness hits us all at once. You try to shake it off, but can't."Come on out Dixie."The door creeks open."All right folks, here's the plan." Everyone looks to Thomas for answers, for some reason you are very willing to listen and do as he says. "In two hours you will call, text, email and tweet everyone you know and tell them that this place is fantastic and they should all buy in to it. None of you needs to come for a second visit because we were more than willing to show you everything. Now, if you can please go to the elevator, Dixie will be there momentarily to escort you to your vehicles."We shuffle to the elevator and waits in silence for our next instruction."Nice.""Thanks, get them out of here before that spell wears off. I don't want them getting confused and accidentally breaking it.""No 'prob boss."
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Author Nick Forristal holds a B.S. in Psychology. He is thirty years old, is married, and has a 1 1/2 year old son. He thinks he probably drinks much caffeine. He can be found at the following links.
Blog  http://www.chroniclesofm.info/website  http://www.chroniclesofm.com/index.htmlamazon author page http://www.amazon.com/Nicholas-Forristal/e/B0084MVBEUfb page http://www.facebook.com/NicholasForristalg+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/111835227802308731991/posts










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Published on September 05, 2012 07:45

September 4, 2012

A Tour of Oltramari, Part One


[image error] The wind blows through your hair as the the ship sails through the Mediterranean Sea towards Sicily. You are amazed how fast the ship was able to travel from the Caribbean to the Mediterranean. You had party all night with the Sea Witch's captain and some of the other cruise guests. The last time you had looked at a clock was at two in the morning when you finally went to bed. You had a great time. When you woke up and finally left your cabin there were people all around the ship participating in a wide variety of activities. The sun was almost hanging vertically above you. You had obviously missed breakfast, a fact your stomach confirmed with its constant growling. "Oh, hello," Tasha calls out to you from beside the pool.  You walk towards your hostess and smile."Good morning.""I hope you slept well.""I did, thank you. I saw the map on the monitor we're in the Mediterranean Sea. Did I miss the announcement of where we are heading?""No, Dalton and I haven't made it yet. Lunch should be in a few moments and we will make the announcement then.""Oh, ok. Thank you.""You're welcome." Tasha smiles, picks up a clipboard from a poolside table then leaves you alone with the other guests. You wander around the deck for awhile with a slight headache and an empty stomach until you hear Dalton over the loudspeaker announcing lunch has been served. Thank heavens for that! You thought lunch would never arrive. An hour later you are sitting at a fancy, round marble top table with a few of your friends. An empty white plate sits before with an empty wine glass. In the middle of the table is a carafe of wine. Every meal you have had and every table setting before visiting a destination has been a reflection of where the cruise ship was taking you. It always amazes you how you can enter this cafeteria and each time it is decorated differently. You wonder what the details are trying to tell you. While you are lost in your thoughts, you waiter brings out a large pizza on a flat wooden tray. You look up smelling the wonderful aroma. Pizza! You smile as he lays it in the center of the table. Dalton rises from the head table and walks towards the small stage in the middle of the room. The room goes quiet as he speaks. "Tasha and I hope you are enjoying the tour so far. Please enjoy your Italian lunch and welcome to the island of Sicily! Our ship will be docking as we partake of our meal. After you have finished your lunch we ask that you would make your way to the side of the ship where we will all head into Oltramari to meet our next tour guide." [image error] A view of Taormina. Credit: gnuckx (Flickr) Creative Commons.
My author says that Oltramari is an imaginary town on the northern coast of Sicily near Palermo. Imaginary? Don’t listen to her. All my mysteries take place in and around Oltramari, Sicily, a city you won’t find on any map.My ancestors settled here centuries ago, so I know all about Oltramari and I’m going to take you on a tour.At first, I’ll do the talking. You can ask questions later. Whatever you do, don’t click. Sit down if you’re tired. That’s right, on those stone benches over there, flanking the public gardens. No room? Well, ask those tattered soldiers over there to sit up. Snoring and lounging about, they think they can sleep away the centuries with their rusted Garibaldi rifles and faded red shirts. And Don Tigro’s thugs, they’re worse, up to no good. Sweep them aside and sit.So. We’re in the center of town. This is our biggest square, the piazza del Duomo. On weekdays, vendor’s carts fill the center of the piazza where we're standing, but today it’s quiet. See that plume of smoke in the distance? Close to dinner time and someone’s cooking. I smell roast pork.That’s our cathedral, the Duomo. Every Italian town has one, but ours is special with its baroque façade and copper doors and bell tower. The climactic scenes of DEATH OF A SERPENT began in that Duomo right over there where the madam disguised herself as a nun.Designed by somebody or other, the cathedral. If Giorgio were alive, he’d tell you the architect’s name, but I was too busy birthing babies and ferreting out the truth to pay much attention to painters or priests.The fountain in the center was built by those gorgeous Romans. Resplendent, our world, when sunlight falls on its cascading sprays, no? And this hollow-eyed statue here, he’s the suppliant St. Dominic. Or maybe he’s St. Benedict, who knows? What’s important is that he lost one of his hands during Garibaldi’s campaign, making the resulting hole a perfect place for secreting messages and the like. Figures into the plot of my third novel, DEATH IN BAGHERIA releasing late this fall.On September 6 when we meet again, I’ll show you the rest of the piazza and we’ll wind up at Boffo’s Café.

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Our destination today was written by author, Susan Anderson. After attending Marywood High School for Girls and St. Mary’s College, Notre Dame, Susan received a B.A. in English Literature from Marquette University.Susan is a writer, a mother, a grandmother, a widow, a member of Sisters In Crime. She's taught language arts and creative writing, worked for a publisher, an airline, an opera company. Traveled. Grew up on the north side of Chicago, but lived most of her adult life in the east. So, like Faulkner’s Dilsey, she's seen the best and the worst, the first and the last. She's seen worlds blow apart and life turn inside out in less time than it takes to type this sentence. Through it all, and to understand it somewhat, she write. [image error] DEATH OF A SERPENT, the first in the Serafina Florio series, published January 2012. It began as a painting of the Lower East Side and wound up as a mystery story. She just published NO MORE BROTHERS, a novella, the second in the Serafina Florio series and is working on the third Serafina book, DEATH IN BAGHERIA. In between writing, revising and editing she reviews books and blogs. Her website can be found at http://susanrussoanderson.com

Her books may be found on amazon at:http://www.amazon.com/Susan-Russo-Anderson/e/B006VCJ0ZC/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1346765377&sr=8-2-ent

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Published on September 04, 2012 07:05

September 3, 2012

The Caribbean Sea Witch!



The sound of the ship's horn bellows throughout the cruise ship. You roll over in your queen size bed and slowly open your eyes. The large monitor on the wall across from your bed magically turns on revealing the happy images of your lovebird hosts, Dalton and Tasha. You turn your eyes towards the clock on your left. Ugh 7:30 in the morning. How can they be smiling this early in the morning. You thought this was suppose to be a fun cruise. Well alright, seeing the ship dry dock in the middle of medium size town yesterday was kind of exciting. You wonder where you will end up today?
"Buenos mañana, everyone," Dalton's proclaims with a hint of a Mexican accent. You turn your attention back to the screen as you get comfortable. "I hoped you enjoyed our visit to Kenley Falls yesterday. We have been traveling all night and have arrived to our next destination on the Caribbean Sea."
The Caribbean! Did you just hear him right? You wonder if we will be stopping at one of the private islands. You would love to go diving with the dolphins, swim in the ocean. Maybe find a hidden treasure? You jump out of bed, step into your slippers and stand closer to the monitor. Tasha smiles then says "Our special guest will dine with us for breakfast then we will all meet on the forward deck at 9am. From there we will board his ship called the Sea Witch via a wooden plank. Please be careful when we cross over the water. There will be no running or horseplay. Everyone will walk over the plank in a single file line then sit on the benches that have been provided for us. See you then!" The screen goes blank. You smile and quickly get dressed. This is going to be great. The Caribbean and a mysterious ship! After you dress and groom, you head out the door sprinting towards the ship's cafeteria. You can't wait until you meet this mysterious captain and sit upon his vessel.
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“Hello, nice to have you here and welcome aboard Sea Witch today. I hope you're comfortable on that little bench you’re sitting on. Please keep your head down, wouldn't want to have the boom swing when the wind changes and knock you out into the water. Off to our right is Roseau, Dominica. We had a lot of fun there when we visited a while back. We even got married at this little chapel up on the hill.”
"What was that?"
“You want me to tell you about me? Okay, my name is Timothy Hutton and I used to own a moving company in Denver. Back then I was also quite abusive to my first wife. Then one day I woke up to the divorce papers she left me. It was the first inkling for me that I had been doing something wrong. Now, I look back and realize that I was really the one at fault, my first wife didn't deserve the way I treated her. I didn't want to admit at first either but I'm so glad I did.”
“I went through a realization I had issues and decided to make some major changes. From that point in my life I left it all behind and have been having the time of my life in the Caribbean. I even found someone new and there she is sitting up in the bow. From the moment I had first seen her I knew I wanted her in my life. Cherise has meant the world to me, I'm so glad she came aboard that day and became a part of my life.”
“I'm never going back again to the person I used to be, I'm just not that man anymore. I really have found a better way of living for me, one with the waves and the wind. Sailing the Caribbean opened up a whole new world for me. It’s so great to feel the wind in my hair and the feel of the boat moving with the waves.”
“Oh cool, check it out! There are some dolphins swimming right now alongside the bow. I really love how they move through the water. Don't they almost look like they're dancing together? It’s nice to meet you again and I’d better pay attention to where we are going.”
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About the author: Brian Bigelow is originally from Minnesota and currently lives in Colorado with his wife, a cat and a very protective Chihuahua that risks life and limb to save his "family" from running leaves, fire hydrants and the like.
He can be reached at:
Blog: http://brian-bigelow.blogspot.com/
Amazon:Kindle http://www.amazon.com/The-Sea-Witch-ebook/dp/B008E5LDAE/Paperback http://www.amazon.com/The-Sea-Witch-Brian-Bigelow/dp/1478175761/
Smashwords:https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/174884
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-sea-witch-brian-bigelow/1112041185
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/The-Sea-Witch/book-5Rri64LOHEWl5Xxapyb7DA/page1.html?s=HT-p7eXwyUeCb4JtPBA1gA&r=1
Sony: http://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/brian-bigelow/the-sea-witch/_/R-400000000000000762479

Brian is giving away a free copy of his book to the first five people who post a comment on this posting!
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Published on September 03, 2012 16:46

September 2, 2012

TTVBT: The Perfect Fit


[image error] I am a writer. How many times have you heard that? There are so many people out there thinking they’re writers. What makes me different? The fact that I write. What do I write, you ask? Romance.
My first book, Perfect, is a contemporary romance looking for a publisher. Here’s a tease:
Alexandra Daniels is a forty-something, mom, wife and hard-working employee. Her life has been plodding along at a snails pace and she’s longing for excitement. She wins a trip to her favorite talk show in New York, the Veronica Becker Show, and it just so happens the actor of her dreams is a guest, Derek Dunbar! Is Alex’s life about to change?
Derek Dunbar is Scottish, an actor and a hunk! Every woman in America drools after him. He has his pick of women but stinks at relationships. At forty, is he longing for a more meaningful relationship? Does he even know how to have one? Is he willing to make the effort or will it just be too complicated?
My second book I’m writing with a partner, Mitch Mitchell. It’s an erotic romance, untitled, written under my pen name Addison Murray. I hope to have it completed by the end of the year.
I’ll have one more erotic and five more contemporary planned. You might ask, where do your ideas come from? Well, everyday life, the crazy things my friends do and the voices in my head, Muses some call them. Will I ever run out of ideas? I doubt it. Life always has something going on that sparks an idea. 


Linda Bolton is an aspiring contemporary romance writer.  She is looking for a publisher for her first book, Perfect.  While working on a future projects Linda can be found:
On Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/linda.bowersbolton and http://www.facebook.com/lindaboltonauthor
On Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/#!/lindalou42  
Her romance blog at http://www.lindabolton.blogspot.com
 Linda Bolton
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Published on September 02, 2012 13:20

Make yourself at home in Kenley Falls


[image error]  You peer over the side of the cruise ship as it continues to fly high above the earth. We've been flying for the entire night. You slept soundly in your private cabin and met some interesting people. You've even made friends with a family that lives in the same town as you.  The best part of the cruise so far was watching the rise and fall of the sun. "Hold on tight, everyone," Tasha yells as your cruise ship appears out of cloud. You take a stepped back. The cruise ship slowly descends towards the earth. It jerks against the turbulence. A shimmery field of energy surrounds the ship as flames engulf it. Huh, who knew? The ship has a force field to protect you and artificial gravity to ensure you do not fly off while the ship descends to the earth. You wonder what else this ship may have equipped on it that they haven't told you about yet. 
You take a step towards the railing and peer over. The earth beneath you reminds you of the dollhouse you once had with Matchbox cars and ant size people. The farther the ship descends the figurine figures become more life sized. You peer at a sign as the ship pulls into a dry dock.  You see a woman and a man run out of the way. 
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Harley and I had almost escaped before the Big Cruise Ship pulled to a dry dock at the side of the low slung, red brick newspaper building on 12th Street. The ship blocked the exit of the parking lot where both my Buick and Harley’s rusty Jeep was parked.  
Hell. Now we were trapped. Our getaway cars were incapacitated.
I had hoped to get out of here before the cruisers arrived. Being sociable before having a sufficient amount of caffeine is hard for me. Sometimes I say things that could be misconstrued as being rude. It’s become even harder for me since I “celebrated” my 50th birthday just a few days ago.
I’m Mattie Mason, the garden reporter for the Daily Times. Harley is the skinny, dreadlock wearing, white boy who happens to be the best photographer at the paper…or anywhere else for at least a hundred miles around here.
And we have something very important to do this morning..Harley and I were just on our way out the front door to go interview and photograph Miss Willa Mae Johnson about her outstanding collard crop. We suspected that Miss Willa Mae might also treat us to some coffee and warm biscuits and homemade plum jelly if we arrived early enough.
 Now our mission was thwarted by this big ol’ ship.
Harley was as disappointed to see the arrival as I was. He had taken a few hits off a joint on his way to work and now he was hungry. Well, if he hadn’t been goofing off with Jasmine, the obituary writer, we could have made it out of here sooner, before the ship arrived. I’ll blame him if he complains.
Frankly, I had forgotten about the cruise until Ken reminded us about it at the editorial staff meeting this morning. A few weeks ago, he had told everyone…including me, about a whole group of writers who would set sail from the Davis Mountains, here in Texas, and they would be making their first stop right here in Kenley Falls, Texas.
Being the managing editor, Ken expected the rest of us to pay attention when he made announcements like this. And we did, until we were distracted by other breaking news.
With this morning’s reminder, Ken told all of us…again…to look sharp and by all means, to look busy, when the travelers landed. He said they just wanted to have a quick look at the newspaper as they passed through town, moving on to more exotic places than our mid-sized city with the small town attitude.
 Ken said there wouldn’t be much to keep them here. We don’t have much to offer except rodeos, dust, heat, some white collar crime and the occasional murder.
It’s hard to be the garden reporter in a town like this, where three out of four summers have record breaking heat and no rain and the fourth summer has record breaking floods. But I try.
If I can’t find a good story, then sometimes I just improvise. Harley and I have even had to drive 15 miles and across the river to the north…all the way into Oklahoma… just to get a decent photograph of wildflowers.  Yes, bluebonnets do grow in Oklahoma, but don’t tell anyone…that knowledge would break the heart of any true Texan.
A warm, dusty breeze pushed the travelers through the front door of the newspaper as they walked the plank and fell into our little world.
Through the floor-to-ceiling, plate glass windows that front the newspaper, I could see Harley out on the street with his camera equipment around his neck. He had hailed a city cab and was talking to the driver, waving his arms dramatically back toward the building…toward me.
 Thanks to Harley’s ingenuity, we would make it to our breaking news story, just in time….we certainly were not ones to ever miss a hot biscuit…er, hot story…no matter what inconvenience we might have to conquer.
And our guests could hang around the newsroom and meet the other reporters at their leisure…re-boarding the ship when ready.
“Welcome to The Daily Times and Kenley Falls, Texas! It’s the mid-sized city with the small town attitude!” I said.
 I led the visitors through the lobby and into the newsroom. Everybody was busy looking busy, just as Ken had instructed us.
“I’m going to leave you here with my colleagues, while I go in search of some important, breaking news,” I said. “Just make yourselves at home….”
Bon Voyage! Have a great cruise!
[image error] Today's episode of the Crusin' With Allison Tour was written by author Peggy Browing. Peggy's blog may be found at http://fiftyodd.com. Please feel free to leave Peggy a comment on this page. 
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Published on September 02, 2012 11:42

September 1, 2012

Welcome Aboard Cruisin' with Allison!


Large canyons circle around the Chihuahuan Desert as the bright morning sun taunts all the visitors with the reminder there's no water out here. You turn your car to the right and wait behind the long row of cars waiting for the parking attendant to carefully guide your parking spot. You stare out the left passenger side window and glare at the largest cruise ship you have ever seen in your life. This couldn't be real. Who in the world ever buys a cruise ticket for a ship docked in the sand? You glance down at the ticket beside you. CRUISIN' WITH ALLISON - A TWO MONTH ADVENTURE WITH INTERESTING CHARACTERS AND UNHEARD OF PLACES. Unheard of places? Adventure? Interesting Characters? Yeah, right. You jump at the sound of someone tapping on your driver's side window.  A young Mexican American man smiles at you. You roll down the window.
"Welcome to Cruisin' With Allison. Ticket please."
"Of course," you reply handing him your yellow ticket.
He places it into a money pouch that sits on his waist then pulls out brochure from a large bag. "Does that cruise ship really move," you ask as he hands you the brochure.
"Yes. Its a very special ship with magical powers."
"Magical powers?"
The young man nods then points towards the row of cars parked neatly in the desert. "Drive forward and Tessa will find you a parking spot. You're car will be safe for the next two months as you travel. We'll take good care of it. You're belongings have already been placed in your cabin. Have a great trip," he says then moves to the car behind you.
You start your car's engine and proceed to slowly move forward. You swear the hot desert sun grows warmer by the minute. You sure hope there's air conditioning on the ship. A large pool would be nice too. You press the brake as a blonde middle aged woman stands before your car in cargo shorts and green T-shirt with the words Crazy Cruise Lines. Where did she come from? Huh? She waves for you to move your car forward as she walks in between two parked cars. You take your foot off the brake and comply. Twenty five rows of cars back to back sit before you. You wonder just how many other people were as crazy as you were for signing up on this tour. You turn your car off, grab your belongings and set out of the car. Tessa is nowhere in sight. Maybe she went to park another car. You press the lock button twice on your keychain. The beep beep sound echoes from your car. Swinging your bag over your shoulder you walk towards the ship and wait in the long line with the other cruise participants.
Wild Rose Pass outside Fort Davis, Texas by Adam Bartlett. http://www.flickr.com/photos/51103012...



A half and hour later the last guest finally arrives. Suddenly the sound of Tejano music fills the desert. You listen carefully to the woman's angelic voice and translate the Spanish words.



The music slowly fades away. On the platform before the crowd stands a young Mexican American man with a young African American woman. The man stretches his hands out. The crowd suddenly grows silent. "Hola! Welcome to Wild Rose Pass and Cruisin' with Allison. My name is Dalton Hernandez and this is my girlfriend Army Cadet Tasha Johnson. We're Range Animal Science students at Sul Ross State University.  My family has owned a large cattle ranch about twenty miles to the right of you for over a hundred years. I grew up riding horses and herding cattle. I've been doing it since I can remember. When I'm not studying I'm on our college rodeo team. I'm a bull rider and hope to make the professional circuit after college. Tasha?" Dalton looks over to Tasha as he squeezes her hand.

"Hi everyone. I grew up an army brat from El Paso. My dad was stationed at Fort Bliss. He was a medic and was sent to Iraq but was killed in action. After I finish college I'll enter the army as Veterinarian Officer and be stationed at Fort Sam Houston where I'll continue my training."

"We are all very excited to see you here. Our cruise ship is the first of its kind. As you can see it doesn't travel by water. It flies. Not only does it fly it can time travel and cross into different dimensions. Tasha and I are going to be with you all every step of the way. Each day we will travel to a new place, sometimes in different times. Before we stop anywhere we will make a general announcement providing you with information as to the weather conditions and if there will be a contest at your destination. Contest prizes are given the following day and the winner will be announced. Should you have any questions please feel free to ask Tasha or I. There will also be a schedule posted so you know in advanced the destinations."

"You are probably wondering why we decided to start the tour out here? Well, this is Wild Rose Pass. Wild Rose Pass is where Dalton and I had the most interesting experience of our lives. You see, Wild Rose Pass is haunted by a ghost. If you travel through the pass, especially at night, you may have a visitor in the back of your car. If a woman dressed in all white appears in your back seat and ask you to help her out of the pass. Press the gas as hard as you can and get out of there! Bad things happen to those who help her." Tasha shivers. "Believe me. Very bad things happen."

"Tasha, you're scaring them," Dalton says. "We can't scare the guests away. They're here for a tour not to be scared."

"Oh, right."

Dalton approches the crowd, "If you will all follow me. We can get settled in and start our tour. Welcome aboard!"
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Published on September 01, 2012 07:00

August 30, 2012

Time to Party with Allison!



Get ready to party down! Join me from Sept 1st through Dec 2nd on a Fall Cruise you won't ever forget! Travel to far off places where interesting characters will give you the grand tour of the places they live, work or travel. We'll have fun contests with plenty of prizes. You never know what you will find on this tour. 
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Published on August 30, 2012 05:19

August 27, 2012

When is literary triage ever pretty?

Every author has them. Those deleted scenes that just didn't quite make the cut because it disrupted the flow of the story. Author, Raymond Frazee talks to us today about he dealt with the deleted scenes of his book. Take it away, Raymond.
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I am a terrible writer.  No, really.

Today I’m suppose to tell you about deleted scenes, and show you one that I’ve removed from a story because—well, surprise, it didn’t fit, it ruined the flow, or, that old chestnut, it sucked hard.

These days I don’t often run into the problem of removing something because it doesn’t fit.  In the last couple of years I’ve learned to plot, to figure out where my story is going, and the route by which it will travel.  In other words, I’m a far better writer than I was twenty-five years before.

But, there was a time . . . a time when I’d put just about any crap on a page and thing, “Whoa, this is like the bestest evar!”

When I began writing my novel Transporting, I had the idea for the story, and the characters—but I didn’t actually know how the story was going to get from Point A to Point Z.  I’d taken one class in creative writing; I’d written a few things before getting into this novel; I’d joined a writer’s group.  I felt like a writer.

What did I know?

With that in mind I started out on Transporting.  I began work on what was going to be my “grand novel”.  In many ways it is, because if there is one piece that I’ve worked on for years, and learned how to plot, how to develop, and how to write, it’s that work.

Oh, and it also taught me how to edit.

I was about 150,000 words into the novel when I realized I had a tiger by the tail, and I needed to step back and think about what I was doing.  Little did I know that once I “stepped back,” it would be another five or six years before I returned to Transporting.  Real Life:  it is a pain in the butt.

Finally I reached a point where I was ready to start writing again.  I decided that I’d edit the story before I started putting down new chapters—

And I about crapped myself.

The first few chapters were good.  Not the greatest, but with a little polishing, they’d turn into something worth while.  But when I reached Part II of the novel—holy geez, what a mess.

Part II starts with a fight between my two main characters, and ends up with one of them running off with the intention of going on a binge of booze, drugs, and sex.  Which my character did—

Only he did it all wrong.

There where scenes where my main character met up with the person he was gonna spend the night with:  a gynoid (that’s a female-looking android for those who might have questions) who was very skilled in, shall we say, “multiple techniques”.  Someone who I had dressed up like Alice from Alice in Wonderland.  Someone who was this girlbot with a great deal of wisdom, so much so that she’d talk my main character out of slamming his aerocraft into a mountain at twice the speed of sound . . .

It was chapter after chapter of this crap, at least seven total.  And each chapter was about three to five thousand words each, so . . . yeah, about twenty to thirty-five thousand words of pure drivel.

I mean, we’re talking a whole novella here that was total garbage.  And needed to be cut in a hurry.

Those chapters were completely rewritten:  not just once, but twice.  Next year I’ll begin the edit on that book again, and I know I’ll clean up everything, but I won’t have to cut stuff, because I know I have it as I want it.

It’s just a matter of polishing things to look and read nicely.

As for the stuff I cut from Transporting?  None of it remains.  I dropped it like a bad habit.  I remember it all, but did I ever want to go back and read that trash?  No.  Not ever.  Never.

But those chapters taught me a lesson.  At that time in my life I was in love with an idea for the story, and I thought it’d be cute as hell.  I was wrong; it was not what the story needed.  It threw the story off, and showed the main character as not being as out of control and self destructive as I wanted to show.  If anything, it made him come of as something of a pretentious dick, which is not what I wanted readers to see.

The moral of the story?  Know where you’re going before you go there.  Just having that bit of foreknowledge kept me from having to rewrite huge tracks of the story later on.

Trust me.  Triage is never pretty.




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Published on August 27, 2012 09:22