Angela White's Blog, page 17

Morning Star Ethos- A Guest Post by Desiree Finkbeiner

 

 

It started with a
mushroom, from another world... never before touched by a human hand, until
Brianna... but life continued as normal... until a near fatal accident almost a
decade later, reveals to Brianna... she's... different...











Unexplained lab
results, unusually fast healing, and recent sightings of Jurassic sized
dragonflies... What is happening to her?

















When a peculiar
man delivers her from a violent assault, she becomes enchanted by his heroism
and inhuman abilities. Her rescuer, Kalen, is sworn to protect the powerful
secret she has yet to realize, from an ancient foe with evil designs...











With the secret
exposed, our world is no longer safe. Kalen takes Brianna to Ethos, his home,
unprepared for what happens next... An ancient prophecy unfolds and they must
make a choice... Give into their forbidden love, or sacrifice their heart's
desire for a chance to save their worlds.



























Watch Another Trailor




More about the Author







Excerpt from
Morning Star Ethos













I half expected
to see a dignified woman in white, like the one I had seen on the screen at the
scan center but what I saw when the blindfold came off was so breath taking
that I couldn't utter a sound. Kalen hadn't prepared me for the beauty that
stood before me. A massive, purple dragonfly queen with crystalline wings of
swirling color and large golden-green eyes like gemstones cut into rare jewels.
Her body was long and slender; ten or fifteen feet long with smooth legs of
black slicked by an iridescent purple sheen over the top. She watched me
intently, waiting to judge my reaction. My eyes widened with amazement and my
mouth dropped open into a gigantic smile, as big as a child receiving a long
awaited surprise.








Morning Star Ethos by Desiree Finkbeiner

Life After War Wednesday-#4- Adrian + a Sneak Peak

Adrian's Eagles






























This week, we'll have a sneak peak at Adrian's Eagles, but
we'll also be examining a little of the multi-layered onion that's Adrian
Mitchel. Let's start with his profile.







































Adrian
Mitchel












Age : 48





Hair : Blond





Eyes: Blue





Height : 6'





Weight : 230 lb





Birthday:
7/4/64





Holsters
on both hips





Sun
streaked brows





Light
goatee















Adrian has never known love beyond his bond with his mother.
He instinctively knows how to be in a relationship, but has never felt the need
to try. Until now. From the instant their eyes met, he recognized Angela as a kindred, but the
strength of the feelings he has for Brady's woman came as a surprise.


































Sneak Peak: Adrian's Eagles



















April 25th, 2013








Fate just isn't something you can
plan for. Sometimes, all you can do is hold on and steer toward the shallows.





I was expecting all men. My help is
only half that and I'm struggling to be careful with them and the camp.
Samantha needs time to adjust before I can pull her in openly. Angie has to be
trained, taught. The workload has increased but so have the benefits. Not one
Seer, but three!





Fate blessed me and cursed me.
Somewhere, laughter is spilling on my account, mostly because I can't complain.
I now have what I need. Where to begin! What to push the hardest or even first?





We're spending the next two days
here and I hope to get further in my head and with them. These women need to be
accepted and I have total faith that fate will put us in just the right place,
at just the right time.





And if one of them flinches, the
camp won't give them a second chance.


















Adrian
wasn't entirely sure on that. It would depend on how bad the flinch was and
what it cost…





"Got a minute?"





Adrian
steadied himself against the vivid feel of her suddenly being in his head.
"Sure. What's up?"





"I need a schedule switch."





Instantly
alert, he closed the newest journal that now held a single entry. He had
already filled ten others since the War of 2012.





"You're
having trouble?"





He
felt her hesitate.





"Not exactly. Kyle said you changed
shifts to mid morning when I came. Please, put them back?"





Adrian's
mind raced. Why would she want to be awake so early? Part of proving herself?





"Mostly to avoid… the morning
sets."





Adrian
scowled furiously. Hiding from Kenn. No, he was out of camp with Zack and his
team on a Slaver recon right now and usually had point at that time. The level
one Eagles trained on that shift. She was avoiding Brady.





"I'll
take care of it."





"Thanks."





There
was a pause where he felt her need for something else but didn't respond. If it

was important, she would ask. Without looking into those expressive eyes, he
would only be guessing at her thoughts.





Angela
let the connection open further, giving him what he wouldn't ask for as she
moved through tents. Another view of his camp.





The
camp glowed with life through her eyes and it made Adrian's heart fill with
pride and satisfaction. These people were happy considering all that had
happened, and obviously well cared for. Their leader was a good man.





"Thank
you."





"It's my honor."





Adrian closed his eyes,
the peace she'd given him allowing for a rare extra few minutes to snooze and
think. And what did his mind consider most important right at this very moment?

The woman now on her
way to give a final class to two levels of Eagles.






















Adrian's bonding with Angela is
both sweet and brutal. Through total freedom and trust, he shows her a life
she's never dreamed of, a way of living that fulfils her need to atone as much
as her sense of duty. He made her more than she's ever been and their time
together will not be easy to forgotten. Adrian wants to fight for her but knows
she need to figure it out for herself and steps back to let her.












Determined to do the right thing,
Adrian concentrates on getting his people toward Arkansas, where a dangerous
personal reunion waits for him. Have the choices he's made cost him a son? Even
Angela can't be sure.








 And how does Marc feel about all this?












Next Week: Brady, Brady, Brady!


















"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

GIRL BLUE: Her spirit waited within the stone, ready to live again -A Guest Post

Girl Blue by Alan Nayes


Renowned
sculptor Jeremy Copper is determined that his latest work, Girl Blue,
will be his masterpiece. He's found the perfect stone for it, a rare block of
blue granite from a quarry in Brazil.
But this stone is special in more ways than one. The former owner of the great
block was a woman named Franscesca, a witch in the 1920s who loved a talented
young sculptor. He promised to carve her likeness, but when he betrayed her
love she exacted a terrible vengeance and paid for it with her life.





Jeremy
begins to fear for his sanity when he finds flakes of granite in his bedroom.
Late at night, he hears strange noises coming from his locked studio. The
sculpture continues to progress, even in his absence, a sinister form emerging
beyond his control. But this frightening new version is not at all what Jeremy
intended. Franscesca's vengeful spirit lives on, and she's more dangerous than
ever.





Why
GIRL BLUE? I've been asked this many
times, mostly during the initial writing stages when that terrible first draft
began to take shape: how in the hell did I come up with such a macabre concept
as presented in this novel? Though on the surface the answer might seem readily
apparent—I wanted to write a story about a haunted sculpture—in reality, the
truth is far less straightforward and simplistic. And once the novel was
complete, and I was into the final editing phase and reading what I'd written,
whoa, I found myself asking did I really write
this? Because no matter how many more novels I write, I know I will never
write another one as bizarre as GIRL BLUE.





The
initial idea for this story was very one dimensional—I was going to write about
a man who becomes addicted to sex by frequenting erotic massage parlors. GIRL BLUE and the haunted rock weren't
even on the horizon. Only after I'd delved twenty per cent or so into the
manuscript did I realize I could only write so much about a guy paying for
massages that included  "happy endings."
In essence the story had come (no pun intended) to a screeching halt. I needed
more.





Enter
a quote by the renowned sculptor Auguste Rodin, famous for The Thinker and many, many other sculptures. "How dazzling is the
sight of a woman undressing." I'd read an article about Rodin and when I saw
this quote, a light blinked in my head. Suddenly my protagonist was going to be
a sculptor and his specialty would be sculpting nude women in stone. The sex
addiction quickly fell by the wayside—but not totally as the story will reveal.
Without giving away any spoilers, the other aspects of the story naturally fell
into place and like the sculpture in the novel, GIRL BLUE was created. I must admit this was a fun book to write
though the research at times was daunting as I'd never taken an art class in my
entire life. I harbor a new respect for artists in all endeavors—authors,
painters, sculptors, actors, singers, photographers, I'd even include athletes
in this list as some are truly artistic in their performances. There is one
common denominator in all—striving for perfection. Nothing less than perfect is
acceptable.





I
have no idea how GIRL BLUE will be
accepted by readers but I do know this. The story is so bizarre there will be
pockets of individuals who will either love it or hate it. I can only hope the
former predominate. But we'll see. It arrives April 3rd, 2012.





Happy
reading! And thank you, Angela, for having me on your blog.






Website:
http://anayes.com/







GIRL
BLUE links:



Amazon http://amzn.to/wEFi2A



Amazon.uk http://amzn.to/zUqn0q



Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/yJFVgU


Samhain http://bit.ly/yrNhox






Goodreads  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/527589.Alan_Nayes




Facebook http://on.fb.me/mflYEU



Twitter http://twitter.com/#!/alannayes




Blog   http://alannayes.blogspot.com/



















"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

Adrian's Eagles Beta-Reader List

Happy Thursday!





I have put together the final list of
people who have volunteered to Beta-read Adrian's Eagles. Please let me know if
your name is not here, but should be.






What
if you're just hearing of the opportunity and would like to add your name? Please
message me on Facebook or
email me directly at a7777777Angela@yahoo.com.
This is the last chance to do so, and you need to have read all three of the
books currently available in the Life After war series before contacting me. I will not accept any new beta readers for
this book after April 3rd.








My
gratitude goes out to everyone below.








Beta-Readers for
Adrian's Eagles:









-Scott-Indie Book Blog





-Cathy Blake





-Rita Knits





-Debbie Griffith





-AJ Simmonds




-Laura-Lee-Watson




-Suz Ashman




-Undisclosed(Waving at you Josh!)




-John Prangley-(No email)




-Dana Morgan




-Jeffery Smock





-Wesley Barrentine





-Fred Manis





-Swaggin Annistasia





-Misty Richelle-(No email)





-Diane
Rhines-(No email)





-Christine
Hart





-Barbie
Glacken-(No email)






-Derek Beard






-Dennis Lyons.









Thank
you Ladies and Gents so much! And if you've put up a review and I haven't
thanked you, let me do it now. I don't respond directly to any of them except
in posts like these, but I read everyone and I can't tell you how much strength
I pull from them.












And
now…the $50,000 question!-Will it be another 15 months or more before book
Five?









Answer:
(Brace for it, it's complicated)-As of right now, I have a notebook with a list
of over 50 ideas and blurb-like parts for other, independent stories. I have
about a dozen bulging folders with other series that I've written parts
on between Life After War. I have 6 other 'books' out there now that need to be
edited and re-released, 2 of which have sequels waiting to be either finished
or written. I also recently found 100 pages of a magical romance adventure set
in the dark times of Lord Alex, the Mad(Name subject to blur in shame, or
implode upon being placed in an Angela White book) in the attic. The papers are
so faded, I can barely make out the words, but it's okay. I know the author and
she stores that stuff in her head-files.





On
top of all that, there are thousands of pages of life After War already written
in folders and notebooks. That doesn't count the ones that will come after I've
exhausted my cobwebbed store of materials. I've been on AE for a long time now
and frankly, I could use a breath of something new. In short, I just don't know
what comes next, so I can't say when for any of them. Maybe we can have a vote
on it or something.









Have
a nice weekend and don't forget to use lotion! 80's on Sunday, yeah!








Angie






"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

Life After War Wednesday-3-The Twins

The Twins









Dean and Dillan Kelly












Age : 34




Hair: Bald




Eyes: Black




Height : 6'




Weight : 220 lb




Birthday: 12/30/78










Like to use their knives




No known twin connection
















Before war : Awaiting extradition for rape and murder







AW : Ruthless hunters stalking Angela & Safe Haven.







Quote : "Look for holes in their defenses. We only need one
mistake."










Strengths .




- Until the Witch, they feared nothing.







- Their twin connection allows them to function as a perfectly lethal
team.













Weaknesses.




- Their over-confidence hinders them to some threats. Like Adrian.







- They have loved no one but themselves and each other. Ever.













FBI Notes:




Dean and Dillan Kelly are 36th on the Top Most Wanted list. Report
their whereabouts immediately upon confirmation.
















Back-story .




Dean and Dillan were born evil. At 5, they tortured small animals. At
10, they were in juvenile hall for attacking their prostitute mother with
baseball bats and became wards of the state. At 17, they broke into a college
dorm and molested three students. With that one, they were shipped to the Navy,
where their strength and teamwork made them seals.




Three years into their tour as seals, they raped and killed a mother
and daughter, running before they could be sent back to stand trial. They are
remorseless killers who, if they can't be found, will make it.










Operating mostly in Mexico, the brothers were the men who could find
anyone, kill anyone, and they worked with a lot of mad men. Like Cesar, leader
of the Slavers now stalking American survivors.










The twins were captured only two days before the War of 2012. Surrounded,
with a hostage, they barely survived their standoff with border patrol. Their captive
hadn't.










Current Status : Deceased as of books 3 and 4.




Cause of Death :




Dillian- Killed by Brady with a blazer in book three.




Dean- Killed by Kenn with a single bullet in book 4.












Vote






The twins don't seem to have any goals beyond revenge. They have no
heart or mercy, and barely any compassion or emotion for even each other. They
are evil, in one of its many forms.







Question to
consider : Why do you think the twins turned out this way? Go here to vote.













Something else
I wonder about : Are the failed health, poverty, parenting,
security, drug, law, and school policies of our world to blame for the
disrespect we're currently putting up with from the younger generations? If so,
do we then deserve it?







Excerpt:










Arriving before dawn, Cesar's men had the lone twin
surrounded before the gold convertible was fully stopped. Dean's eyes dared one
of them to touch him. He had come to talk but he would kill right now with
little provocation, much like a wounded animal. 
There was no doubt the Mexican's had heard what went over Safe Haven's
radio channels and this time, the waves of energy shooting from the Witch would
have been impossible to miss. The Slaver now had his proof of their words but
would he still want Dean's help?




Cesar considered these things as he moved toward the twin
who'd been sitting in the center of the muddy, abandoned campsite. Safe Haven's
last site. He'd been sure both brothers were dead after hearing the witch's
voice checking in. From the look of the muddy man in the rutted center of camp,
only one of them had survived the encounter.




Why would Dean come back? Vengeance for his brother? To try
to take over his men and attack recklessly? The Slaver had no intentions of
killing the brother if he could avoid it. After seeing and hearing the enemy
close-up, he now wanted every deadly hand he could get and there was no doubt
that Dean was a killer.




"You should have called us. We could have taken her from a
group that size."




Dean's face was a mask of hatred that Cesar was careful to
ignore for the moment. Business first, always. There would be time for lessons
later.




"We saw an opening and took it. They weren't away from camp
long enough for you to get here."




Cesar shrugged, stretching tiredly. "The only question that
matters, is what you planned to do once you had her."




Dean looked up from his seat on the muddy ground. "Get our
share of the pie."




Cesar frowned, unfamiliar with the saying and the twin blew
out a sigh of disgusted contempt. "Her first orders were to destroy that camp.
Yours next if you tried to take her from us."




José drew his pistol and stepped forward but Cesar only
laughed and waved him back. The Witch would be theirs to make suffer and then
this mercenary would no longer be needed.




"Your hermano was the balls, si?"




"Always."




"Now, maybe you are both." Cesar extended a hand that Dean
took warily, letting the Slaver help him up. 
"Come, let us share a whore in your brother's honor. At dawn we will go
meet the tank team I sent out. They're ahead. We'll meet Safe Haven in the
middle."



Next Week: Adrian & a Sneak Peak










"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

Increase Sales-Part Three-The Importance of Keywords and How to find the right ones

Happy Monday to you! Thanks for stopping by for the 3rd
installment of my ebook series. Last week, we took a tour of the best places to
get a stunning premade cover for under $25. This week, it's all about the
search terms.





Finding Keywords




I'll assume everyone knows what they are and the basics of
what they do. If not, here's
a solid article on it. Basically, keywords brought you to my post. If you
look at the bottom, you'll see the words I chose when I put this article up.
I'll bet you see something familiar, right? Keywords. They bring the readers to
you.




So, how do you find the perfect set of keywords that will
lead new readers straight to your book? I use the Google
Keyword Search tool. I start with one word at a time that fits my book's
description and I browse through the lists, seeing if there's anything I
overlooked. For example: Dark Fantasy. It has a low
competition but also a low search rate. Not a great keyword even though my book
is sitting in the top 5 for that category.





 

So, how can you tell
what Keywords are the best to use?




You want the words with the smallest competition and the
highest search amount. The Google keyword tool shows bars or exact numbers-you
can refine the search too and also star it and then download it to your files
so you'll have it even when you're not online.




Good Keywords will be what an actual reader would type
in to find that kind of story. It's nice enough to know that it's a romance
story but if you narrow it down a bit more, you'll see better results. The
competition on "romance novel" is high but on "stories of love", its low. Look
through the search results to the very end. Diamonds are often under the other
crap.




This tool also shows the last 12 months of popularity of
the word. If it only jumps for the seasons, pass it by or you'll only have good
results for a few months of the year. You're looking for something that has
good hits all year long.




Cost per click. That data line shows how much the
average customer is paying for online advertising on that word. The higher the
cost, the more popular the word is and that will show you if it's in demand or
not.







So, how can I get my
already chosen words to rank higher?




SEO, baby. In the blink of an eye (usually less) a search
engine will scroll millions of pages for what you want. How does it know what
to show? Yes keywords but how does it pick which page using those words will be
shown? By keyword density, a huge part of SEO. Here's a fast break down:




If you don't use your keywords in the blurb, title,
description, and first few pages, your words will rank low. If you use them in
these things, search engines (Even the Amazon giant) will measure how densely
you've placed them and show your page based on that. The internet average is
one time use for every 100 words of text. No one knows exactly for Amazon but
it's been suggested that twice that amount will draw solid attention.





On the downside, these same search engines are always
watching for spammers and if you use the same words too many times, you'll be
flagged for it (Without warning or notification) and your page will be ignored.
A 2-3% keyword density is ideal.





For a more in-depth explanation on SEO and keyword density
(Highly recommended if you're serious about improving sales.) check out this article.






Don't feel like doing
your own hour's long research?




There are people who will do it for you, myself included.
Please look at this and use the right sidebars for other offers if mine doesn't
appeal.





Tip of the week:





Search engines take a long time to crawl the Net for
updates. Once you make the changes, be patient. Google sometimes takes 6 weeks
to come back around.


 

Next week is the beginning of Amazon month. I've been a
bestseller more than once on the mega-book mart called Amazon and I'll be
sharing a few of the secrets I've learned. First, we'll discuss how to increase
sales with your Author Central account, even if you already have everything
filled out correctly.





 

Ours is a rough ride
that stops for no one. If you want it, jump hard!






Until next week,

Angie


















"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

Sunday Story Trilogy-#2- Easter Surprises-Violence caution

For the holiday, many people do romance or family bonding type stories. I thought
I'd swing far right of that and give you something horrible and poetically wrong,
yet perfectly right.




Warning: There is violence in
this story. There is also a child in this story. You do the math.






 



Easter Surprises






"Slap!"



The girl's tears were
silent as she cowered on the carpet of the living room, wincing at every word
shouted inches from her terrified face.



"I'm up now! Get
your damned basket!"


The 7 year old scrambled
back, avoiding the sweeping hand but not the foot and it caught her in the hip,
bringing a dull flare of pain.



"Worthless
kid!"





Out in the cool air, the
girl lingered outside by the meager Easter Basket, candy untouched, tears dried
to her red cheeks. She could still hear her mother's loud voice inside,
complaining about being woken up early, and the neighbor's were staring openly
through their trailer window, but Madeline knew better than to think they might
help her. Other kids in the park had the same life and while everyone
whispered, no one helped. They had no one to stand for them.



"You do now."



The little girl looked
around with startled eyes, only to find a snow bound trailer park.



"Maddie."



Right by her feet now,
she looked down to see a large rabbit. Longer than her foot, taller than the
old tom her mom threw rocks at, the bunny was big and dark gray, with large
black eyes.



"Hello."



The child blinked. Its
mouth had moved!


"You talk!"


The rabbit nodded,
pointed a paw under the skirt-less mobile home.


"Come with me. I can
help you and your friends."



The animal hopped
casually out of her sight. "Come on, Maddie. Let's play a game called
teach the grownups to be nicer."



Torn, the little girl
went slowly and when the neighbors saw her disappear behind the concrete
supports under the trailer, they closed their curtains, thinking she was smart
to give her mom time to cool off. The untouched basket of Easter candy didn't
raise any alarm.





It did with her mom
hours later, but not the worry kind that makes you think something bad may have
happened, but the annoyed kind that said someone wasn't where they were
supposed to be. When she began screaming the girl's name, the neighbors thought
of telling her where the child was but didn't. It sounded like she hadn't
cooled off very much.



"Madeline!"



The little girl didn't
answer and her red face was tight with concentration.



"Just blow and
think. That's it."



The rabbit handed her a
small pouch and the girl quickly grabbed a fist of the gold and black powder.



"Madeline! So help
me girl!"



The Mother was close and
the rabbit laid a comforting paw on her foot when she trembled.



"Do this Maddie,
and she'll never hurt you again. I promise."



The girl nodded, eyes
clenched shut and when she blew the dust into the cold air, it sparked, flashing
into a ball of brilliant flames that covered the child from head to foot. A
second later, the grinning rabbit was gone and the girl was being roughly
yanked from an under the trailer.



"Damn kid! Didn't
you hear me yelling?"



The woman shook the girl
wildly but her motions slowed as she got a look at her daughter's face.



The child smiled, pretty
blue eyes turning red, teeth growing, becoming hungry fangs.


"I hear you now,
Momma!" 



The child's attack was
merciless, her long claws ripping into warm flesh and as the body fell, the
neighbor's curtains swung shut and the girl headed casually toward her best
friend's home.



Mandy's dad liked to hug
her and touch her a lot. It was time he learned to keep his hands to himself.
Then, she'd show Mandy the dust and they would go to Jacob. When there were
enough of them, they would take care of the other evil-doers, the ones who
watched but didn't help. Their turn was coming.









This Doesn't HappenIn The Movies



by Renee Pawlish




(Renee has been a guest on C9 Virtual Tours)














"I want you to find my dead
husband."




"Excuse me?"




That was my first reaction.




"I want you to find my husband. He's
dead, and I need to know where he is." She spoke in a voice one sexy note below
middle C.




"Uh-huh." That was my second
reaction. Really slick.

























Moments
before, when I saw her standing in the outer room, waiting to come into my
office, I had the feeling she'd be trouble. And now, with that intro, I knew
it.




"He's dead, and I need you to find
him."




If she wasn't tired of the repetition, I was, but I couldn't
seem to get my mouth working. She sat in the cushy black leather chair on the other
side of my desk, exhaling money with every sultry breath. She had beautiful
blond hair with just a hint of darker color at the roots, blue eyes like a cold
mountain lake, and a smile that would slay Adonis. I'd like to say that a
beautiful woman couldn't influence me by her beauty alone. I'd like to say it,
but I can't.




This
Doesn't Happen in the Movies






 




Mementoes of Mai by Helmy kusuma

Non-Fiction




(Helmy has also been a guest
of C9 VT)












A
mundane office life is suddenly changed into something entirely different in a
flick of a hand. Helmy's visit to Viet Nam made him face the beauties he long
forgot, and now he must make up his mind to pursue the love of his life...









Would
he be able to reconcile his past and his present to step into the unknown
territory of the probable future? Could he bridge the space between himself and
his love?



Follow
Helmy as he recounts the defining and beautiful moment in his life, through the
river and the cove of Viet Nam, across the sea to Bali, and Jakarta.




Fictitiously,
of course.




Mementoes of Mai




You guys have a safe Sunday.




Next Week: Invasion








"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

Life After War Wednesday- #2- Marc & Angie

My Brady






Happy Life After War Day!












For Marc and Angie, I was going to put up a profile like
last week's, but after some thought, I realized nothing can give you a clearer
picture of who they are, were, than letting you see it as it happened. The
following is an excerpt from their back-story, which hasn't been released yet.










Prologue




Marc: Age 12




There are a few things you should know about me before we go
any further together.












I was born lonely and I've spent almost every day of my life
that way. Existing in a home with no laughter, no emotions at all but
indifference or coldness had me longing for someone who could brighten my life
even before I was old enough to recognize her. Isolated and forced to deny who
I was, I lived a separate life from the other Gypsy's in the neighborhood.





A second thing you should be aware of is how badly my mother
crushed my faith with her rabid hatred. To say she loathed our wild, heathen
roots, would be putting it mildly and despite being nearly full blooded Gypsy,
I was raised in a home that was Christian. From the clothes and furnishings, to
the regular attendance of every meeting, prayer chain, and baptism we were
invited to. There were crosses and plaques and so many scripture lessons that I
got lost in them. Literally. It wasn't that I didn't believe.  It's was more like I didn't know which theory
to pick; our heritage or this new culture that didn't fit me right.





The last thing about me that matters, was that I loathed our
way of living and just as soon as I got the chance, I planned to leave for
good. That promise to myself was what helped me through all the mornings I
started out on my knees, praying to a God I hadn't heard of until my dad left
us. The rest of our huge clan loved the system Mother Brady had set up, especially
the men. We were sent out of town every year to learn the family business,
allowing for mostly unsupervised exploration of the world. How to sell and be
respectable, that's what the Brady's were known for now. Not for being Gypsy
spawn, as Mother Brady referred to those around us who refused to hide their
heritage. And I hated it. It felt wrong. I loved our culture, the small bits
I'd been able to learn behind her strict back but I didn't cross her, not then.
I knew who was boss.





A last note; I've noticed that life is full of irony. Laying
unseen on the fringes of our day to day schedules, it's everywhere but we can't
see it until it's too late to be changed into something wonderful. Like the
love that blindsided me. I spent years waiting and longing for the time to come
when I too would be allowed to go out of town for training and escape my lonely
existence. Then Angie filled my heart and I spent a decade hating each and
every time I had to leave her. Life is often ironic. And painful.



















Angie: Age 7












There are a couple things you really need to understand
about me before Brady takes us any further into my private hell.












The most important is that I'm older than my age at any
given time. I always have been. People say it's because of what I've seen and
heard during my short life but it's really because of who I am, deep on the
inside.





I also have a lot of secrets. I don't mean the kind you
giggle about with friends. I mean the kind you carry your whole life. Like my
mother being a Gypsy whore. Don't frown. It's only the truth. I've been hearing
it since I was a baby and I can't tell you how many of her "friends" patted my
head on the way out our trailer door. That's how I ended up with a new step
father. And my first awful secret.





Georgie is big and loud and likes to have me sit on his lap
and wrestle. I don't like him very much but at least he doesn't hit me like he
does momma sometimes. I figured out if I don't tell him no, he don't get mad at
me. I still get scared though. It's like he's waiting for something and it's
about me. I hate being so little! They lie to me all the time and I have to
pretend I don't know what they're thinking.





But I do. That's another one of the things I'm hiding from
the world. I can hear thoughts. Yes, even yours. I can also talk to ghosts.
Well, one. The Witch inside has been whispering to me ever since I can
remember. She was burned at the stake a very long time ago and was able to
transfer her soul into a community well. The first person to drink from it, my
Gypsy relative, was invaded. Now, we're born with it, every seventh generation.
That's me. The neighborhood ladies tell me it's supposed to get stronger as the
person gets older. Scary, cause it's pretty strong now. It's the reason I found
My Brady. Which brings me to my other huge pretense.





Being at home was a bad thing for me all through my
childhood and I spent as much of it as I could exploring and hiding. Sometimes,
when I was very bored or upset, I'd follow thoughts. I liked being able to
track people down, it was fun, but I never showed myself. On one of those
adventures, I found a boy of eleven sitting in the rows of corn that lined one
side of our trailer park.





I'd followed his thoughts because they were a mirror of how
I was feeling. Alone, almost desperate, he matched the pull of that need with
the open misery I saw in his eyes. This was someone like me. I'd never known
that before.





He was scared and ashamed too because he had to pretend he
wasn't Gypsy and because his family was so cold to him. He had all sorts of
hard rules and he was only allowed to be around the right kind of people. Even
at seven, I knew that wasn't me.





The boy stayed in the corn all day, sometimes talking to his
self but mostly just quiet and thinking, trying to find an escape. It was how I
spent most of my own free time and I can't tell you how strong the urge was to
come out. It began a bond that was unbreakable.





 When he got up to
leave, I was careful to stay back but my heart called out to his. I didn't want
him go yet. And he looked at me! Or at least it felt that way and I realized I
knew him. I'd seen his picture on the wall of my new stepfather's den. The boy
was my family, a forbidden side of it that I hadn't even met. Despair, thick
and smothering, settled over me and I crept away.





But stay away, I couldn't. Less than a week after first
spotting My Brady, I was trailing him where ever he went in the neighborhood.
It didn't matter that his mother loathed me even more than the other Gypsy's or
that my new stepfather had put his hands up my dress in exchange for letting me
out to play so early. As long as I got to see him, I was okay. He quickly
became my unknowing light in the darkness.





A month after that, I couldn't stand to be away during
school hours too and began ditching my classes for his. I'd linger behind the
bushes and watching him read, laugh with his friends, and stare out the glass
with an expression I longed to ease with the comfort of my little arms. To say
I was obsessed would be an understatement.





You see what I mean about my age? I was years ahead and only
Brady understood.





So those were my burdens. It was as if all nine planets had
collided at my birth, creating an inescapable hell that followed me most of my
life. Can you guess which secret I would have given up the quickest? My gifts.
Why? Because hearing into people hurts! I'd get up and pass my mother's door
and hear her jealousy of my youth and my looks. Then I'd sit across from her
new husband and try to choke down a meal while he thought of his plans to watch
me in the shower later or peak under the blanket while I slept. To start every
day that way! If I hadn't known, I could have at least stolen a few hours of
happiness without worrying about what was coming later.





As it was, I spent the years between four and seven in a
blur of fear and loneliness, praying for someone to be my friend. When I
finally found My Brady, I couldn't let go. I needed him too much.



















Chapter One




Marc & Angie












My mother hated anything that reminded her of our Gypsy
caravan background. For one of the family to flaunt it openly was a sin not
easily forgiven. We had relatives that were missing from the holiday gatherings
for years over such breaches of Mother Brady's rules. Some were never allowed
to return, where others, like me, simply refused to go back under her thumb.





Why she refused to accept who were really were, was no
mystery. Her own parents had been killed by an angry mob after a Gypsy couple
had robbed and murdered a bank teller in town. My grandparents had been in the
wrong place, at the wrong time and it gave my mother a fear that only grew when
my father abandoned us shortly after being exposed for a thief and adulterer.
From that moment on, she and everyone suddenly under her reign had to conform
or be driven out. Considering that she inherited all the loan notices and
property deeds, there wasn't much argument. A fanatical defense against the
horrors of her teenage years, my mother grew into a cold person afraid to love
or show emotion, even to her children. As a result, we didn't have much feeling
for her either, beyond fear.





Appearances seemed to be all that mattered to her and since
a house with no love was all I'd ever know, I didn't understand the power of
the warmth I was missing. I just accepted that my elder brother and sister held
value in her eyes and that I on the other hand, was a potential embarrassment
waiting to happen. I stayed out of trouble as best a Gypsy boy can and kept
grades and friends that she approved of. The Neighborhood kids, I never spent
time with. They danced on the sidewalks in front of their parent's fortune
shops and played their music openly. My mother would cross the street to avoid
these reminders of her past and she fully expected us to do the same. The only
person I ever knew that crossed her on it and wasn't punished, was her brother.





Georgie not only married without telling her, it was to a
Neighborhood "business woman". A Gypsy Madam who ran a rustic fortune telling
shop as her cover for taking in male clients, it was exactly the type of people
my cold as ice parent had been pushing away. Man, the fight!





 It shocked everyone
when Mother Brady allowed his wife to officially enter the family. I never
found out why she gave in but I've always been grateful to her for that one
thing. Because Georgie's new bride had a little girl that I instantly felt
something for. It wasn't love at first sight, not at those ages, but it was
powerful, just the same.












"This is your uncle's new wife. Frona."





My mother's tone told me she didn't like the loudly dressed
woman filling her doorway and I kept my voice cool. "It's nice to meet you."





The Gypsy woman wasn't very big but the colors of her skirt
and top were confusing to my twelve year old eyes. We never had red or purple
in this house. Mother barely tolerated blue jeans.





"You must be Marc."





I nodded, knowing not to put my hand out to her but the
fortune teller didn't seem to notice the insult.





"Maybe you can help me?"





I felt the Matriarch beside me tense and kept my mouth
closed. I wasn't sure why this woman was here or why my mother wasn't throwing
her out and it made me uneasy.





"Angie needs the bathroom. Can you take her?"





"Humph!"





That one snort from Mother Brady told me I shouldn't agree
and I opened my mouth to give her directions but a stunning little girl of
about seven stepped from behind my newest aunt and I froze.





She was pale, like paper, with tangled black curls that hung
to her tiny waist. So pretty! I've never been sure exactly what it was that
drew me so hard. It could have been the way she looked at me, like I was
already hers, or maybe how cute that little face was, but I've always thought
it was the warmth in those sky blue eyes. I was helpless against it.





"Please?"





Her angelic voice snapped me back into the cold reality of
my world and I nodded, already able to feel the waves of disapproval now
filling the hall. I would pay for this. "Come on."





My mother watched us all the way down the long corridor,
sharp gaze no doubt filled with surprised speculation. Until that moment, I'd
done what she wanted and I'm almost sure she began laying plans right then. I
think maybe she knew, watching that beautiful Gypsy girl lead her least wanted
child down the hall, that later, when we were older, there might be trouble.
That's the kind of parent Mother Brady was. Sharp. Merciless.












"In there."





I waited outside the door, wondering if I could escape my
coming punishment until later. Mother wouldn't forget but I could for a little
while. Standing there, I'd almost forgotten why I was in trouble at all and
when the bathroom door opened, I jumped.





"Sorry."





She giggled at scaring me and the sound of it had me
grinning back. She was a cute kid. Too cute for this family. "S'okay."





I turned to take her back but stopped at her words.





"Do we have to? She doesn't like me."





Smart kid. And I had just been thinking about escaping for a
while. Did this matter? I shrugged. "Probably not." That made her smile, a full
shine of happiness that no boy would have been able to resist, let alone one as
isolated as I was.





"Where can we go?"





I was running through the options when her stomach growled,
answering the question. "The kitchen. Come on."





My steps were slow and I looked over to find her watching me
with those eyes. What was it about them besides the fact that they were violet?
"So how do you like being a Brady?"





She shrugged but didn't answer and I felt something I
couldn't place right them, with her so close. I realized later that it was one
of the many things we had in common. I didn't care much for it either.





"You go to school yet?"





She nodded, little hands shoved into the pockets of her
white dress like she was afraid to touch anything, even by accident. "Crosby."





That meant my mother hadn't really accepted her or she'd be
going to private classes with the rest of us. It also meant that I'd never get
to see her and even then, the sense of loss was there for me.





We moved quietly down another huge hall, surrounded by
saints and dark colors but neither of us paid attention to these things yet.
There would be time for guilt later. Right now, it was only Marc and Angie
rebelling and I grinned at her suddenly.





 "You sure are quiet
for a girl." That seemed to please her but it didn't draw the smile I'd been
looking for.





 "Momma said to and...
Mother Brady scares me some."





For the first time in my life, I felt the urge to protect
someone other than myself. It was a world apart from the boy who only wanted to
get by so he could get out and I grinned again. 
"She likes bigger food. You're too small."





Those seven year old eyes frosted over and that cute chin
became a stiff line. She didn't tell me she hated those words or not to ever
say it again but I felt both as if she had. Her age was a touchy subject, I
thought, not knowing it would become one for me as well.





 I nodded, not
realizing what had happened. "I won't. Sorry."





Our eyes locked and when she stopped, so did I, curious and
a little confused as to how she seemed so much older but it was more than that
too. Her eyes held me and outside, thunder crashed heavily, making the ground
shake.





We only stood there for a few seconds but it felt like
forever. In those stunning blue eyes, I could see so much! There was another
world in there, one that I wanted desperately to know of. In there, I'd always
be wanted.





She looked away (let go of me) and I yawned, instantly tired
and even more confused. What had just happened? Her eyes were blue now. How was
that possible?





"I'm sorry. "She hesitated, sounding miserable "You can take
me back now."





Her eyes were lit up like a city skyline and I could almost
see her skin start to glow. No way was I taking her back yet. I wanted some
answers first.





 I shook off that
sleepy feeling as best I could and got us moving. The last minute was already
blurring and I struggled to remember all of it. Later, when I was alone, I'd go
over it and figure out what it meant. That it did mean something, I took for
granted. It had been too strong to ignore.





I could feel her stealing looks at me, maybe to judge if I
was angry with her and I understood that whatever had happened, had come from
her and then went back into her. And also that she was keeping some really big
secrets. As someone who knew that look in the mirror too well, it was easy to
recognize.












The cook looked as surprised as I felt to be leading that
little Gypsy girl into his perfectly polished kitchen and I didn't ask him to
do anything that might get him fired.  I
led her by the steaming pots of chicken soup that were destined for local
shelters, fighting the urge to look back and see what she thought of the grand
house my mother had put together over the years. Was she impressed?
Intimidated?





I waved a hand at the table, where a plate of cookies and
baskets of fruit sat with perfectly matched precision.





"What ever you want." The words had a ring of familiarity
that had my insides twisting. Did I know her from The Neighborhood?





She pulled an apple free with care and I handed her a napkin
to hold under it, thinking her choice had made me uneasy. Who turns down
chocolate chip cookies?





 I watched her from
the corner of my eye, almost unable to look away as she bit into the fruit. Years
later, I recognized it as an Adam and Eve moment but right then, all I could
see was her age. I had a playboy under my mattress (and a backup on the top
shelf of my closet) and I considered myself nearly grown. What did I want with
this little baby?





"I won't always be this little!"





The cook smiled at what he assumed was baby talk but I froze
again. She'd heard my thought!





"Of course not. You will grow and be even prettier."





We ignored him, lost in that first discovery and I opened my
mouth, unsure what was about to come out.





"Marcus!"





Very glad of which way I was facing, I snapped my mouth shut
and schooled my face before turning to see both parents in the doorway, their
clothes clashing in a horrible warning.





 "Yes, mother?" My
tone was perfectly bored but my pulse had tripled.





Two sets of narrowed eyes went over us and the cook, who'd
flinched back, terrified.





 "What are you doing?"





 My Mother's voice was
like stone but before I could dig a hole, Angie saved us.





"He gaves me apples!" 
The little girl let out another giggle, this one so annoying that I took a step back.





"Gave me one apple." 





She corrected herself, sounding exactly her age and I hoped
she knew I didn't mean it as I rolled my eyes. "Can I go now?"





 It sounded like I couldn't
wait to escape and I left under my mother's curt nod but I could feel her
surprise, her pain. My Angie.












I hid in the front tree as soon as I was out of sight and I
stayed there, waiting, thinking. No one I'd ever known had affected me so
strongly and when she and her loud parents stepped from the house, her eyes
went straight to mine, as if to say it was the same for her.





Even across the distance, there was a spark, a sense of us
being connected. It said there were things ahead that we weren't ready for but
I couldn't look away, even after I felt my mother's sharp eyes find my hiding
place too. That little girl was someone I wanted to know and I set my mind to
it right then, that I would.





What I didn't count on was how determined my mother now was
to keep us apart and with her years of being in charge, I stood little chance
against her manipulations. Many of them, I didn't even recognize for what they
were.


























"I saw the way you were looking at her, Marcus."





I'd been expecting the ambush and flinched like I hadn't
heard her steps outside my door.





"I always make you jump." She moved into the room, an
imposing figure in her black and white suit. "I wonder why you are so easy to
spook."





Right now, it was because her cold eyes had gone first to my
bed and then to my closet.





"Sorry, mother."





She was silent for only a short pause and I tried not to
tense.





"Do you like her?"





I nodded. "Sure."





I added nothing for her to build on and no lie to be trapped
in and her eyes narrowed under those thick glasses.





"You'll stay away from her."





I would not! My thoughts were often the opposite of the
words forced to come through my lips.





"Okay."





 I went back to
combing my hair, trying not to watch her. Did she know about my magazines? I
barely heard her move and then she was behind me in the mirror, cold blue gaze
trying to dig into my heart and see what evil I'd allowed into our lives.





"It's a sin. Lusting for your family is incest and I'll not
stand for it."





I didn't try to tell her it wasn't like that. She wouldn't
have understood and by the time it was over, she'd have twisted my words into a
confession.





"You'll be punished."





I nodded again, trying to ease the damage I was about to
take. "I am sorry, mother. They were so bright!'





Her face softened a bit, thinking I hadn't liked it either.
"Yes, but temptation is everywhere. You must be strong enough to resist. How
can I send such a weak boy out of town next year?"





That was hitting below the belt but with her eyes watching
me, I hung my head and pretended a shame I felt only for allowing her to
treat me this way. Soon, the day would come when she couldn't keep me here.





"You'll spend the summer working for your aunt Judy."





I looked up in surprise. I'd been asking to go since I
was ten and the change of subject threw me off, distracted me. "What?'





Her eyes never changed but her tone was as warm as I'd heard
in a long time. "You've been a good son, an obedient
son, and I'm being lenient with you this one time. It's still punishment. There
are cows and pigs to be branded, hay to be baled, and horses to be cared for.
You'll work, but you'll also have fun with your cousins. Next year, you'll
start the training. Best get those childhood notions out of your system now."












She drifted from my room a few minutes later, the plans for
my departure the following morning already set. Not wise enough to see how I'd
been tricked, I was vaguely unhappy to be leaving Angie so soon after meeting
her but I was overjoyed at getting to work on Judy's farm. I was being set free
a year early.












Played like a banjo around a campfire. Clever, simple, it
began a pattern of hurt that repeated over and over through our years together.
I was always being ripped out of Angie's life.
















Marc and Angie





This story will be
released in late 2012- early 2013.












Next Week: The Twins















"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

How to Triple Ebook Sales on Every Retailer- Part Two

Welcome to the 2nd. Installment of my Ebook
series. Last week, we spoke about pricing. This week, we'll delve into
the sensual world of covers. For books.












For this installment, we'll be leaving my blog and traveling
to Scribd. It was easier to make this post in Word and export as a PDF, than to
face Blogger's technology when it comes to aligning photos. I'm sure some of
you know exactly what I mean.








Please take the link below and we'll
get started.









Angela's Ebook Cover Tour- $25 or less for a work of art








"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website

Life After War Wednesday #1- Cesar Castro Diaz

Once a week, we will get to
know the "people" who make up the Life After War series through profiles, back
stories, and glimpses into their mind. At the bottom of each edition, I'll be
placing a few extras, such as excerpts, personal thoughts, or questions to vote
on. Please use the comments section for discussion.













To start us off, I chose to
cover one of those who have perished during Life After War, thus far. Let's
look at the main bad guy from books 1-4:











































Cesar Castro Diaz







Age :
43

Eyes:
Black

Height :
5'10"

Weight :
195 lb

Birthday:
1/4/70







Gold
Front Tooth

Kinked
black curls

2
missing fingers- left hand




















Before
War : Infamous Mexican Guerilla Captain












After
War : Leader of an invading army.












Quote:
"I will have the Witch! Nothing will
stop me when I come for her!"












Strengths .









- Once he makes up his mind, it's set and little will change his
mind.









- He learned first hand how to keep control amid the violence
and he does it well.












Weaknesses .







- Hates so much that he has no beauty in his heart.









-Underestimates his enemies.














FBI
Notes









-The FBI has no US record. For Mexican, European, and other
records, contact case manager.












Back-story







Cesar was raised by one of Mexico's most ruthless men. Bred to
be a warrior in his father's army, he is a hardened man, who worked his way up
the ranks through violence and manipulation. Like his father, Cesar loathes the
United States and the number of American's he's rumored to have killed before
the war is over 200. A month after the war, it was 1000.












When the war came, Cesar took a large group of men and headed to
the U.S border to rescue friends and family in Arizona and New Mexico detention
centers. When he encountered no resistance, he seized the opportunity,
invading. The vile man intends to keep anyone from rebuilding and hopes to seed
the country with as many bastards as he can, leaving the US an occupied state.












Cesar hates America for many reasons but mostly for what he
believes it did to his father.












Current
Status : Deceased as of Book 4, Adrian's Eagles.












Cause
of Death : Multiple bullet wounds.












Killed
by: Adrian Mitchel and Angela White at the end of book four,
Adrian's Eagles.












Vote












One of Cesar's main goals is to seed America with his bastard's,
leaving the US an occupied land. He's been carrying out that plan for months,
being very careful to ensure the children are his. As of book 3, Safe Haven,
the guerilla has conquered more than 20 towns and rarely spends a night without
a slave chained to the pole of his filthy tent.












Question
to consider : As of April, 2013, how many children do you think Cesar has on
the way?



















Something
else to think about - Will any of those forced offspring be
heard from?












Go
here to vote. Results will be announced during next Wednesday's post.



















Excerpt:





Immune
to the noise, Cesar watched the plump woman ride out of camp, the cries of her
two young children making him sure she would do as he wanted. She would be
missed for her cooking skills here but at Safe Haven, she would be an
invaluable tool waiting for his orders.








His
army was undisciplined, drunk on their successful invasion of the hated
American's and the wise guerilla Captain sensed that wouldn't be enough to
defeat the group of survivors from his dream. The blond man had been hard and
Cesar recognized the future battle. When it came, he would be ready and none of
them would stand. He would stop that vision from ever happening and there was a
feeling of importance to the woman disappearing into the fog. Maria would be
the key to that battle.








Cesar
shoved the toddlers from his leg, waving at a slave to care for them. When his
upset sons were older, they too would be sacrifices for the cause. The evil
slave trader grinned, letting out a battle cry that was echoed by his men.






"Muerte a Estados Unidos!" Death to America.












Life
After War















Next
Week: Marc and Angie!












"Seven very gifted survivors are destined to rebuild their country after a nuclear apocalypse...If they can stay alive long enough to find each other."

The Survivors: Book One

Now FREE on:

iTunes
Amazon
Kobo Books
Google eBooks
Author's Website