Ray Stone's Blog: A blog for everyone, page 28

Illusion

Linda started this serial and here she writes chapter seven. Linda is becoming one of the leading lights at the Story Mint, participating in almost all the serials.

 

Written by: Linda Alley

A line of sweat trickled down Elizabeth’s neck. Desperately trying to appear nonchalant, she perched on a bar stool and scanned the room.

On the other side, a man with bushy eyebrows met her gaze. It was the stranger from the bus stop!

Elizabeth scurried over. He was alone, apparently now engrossed in the cocktail menu. She gripped the edge of his table.

“Please! You have to tell me what’s going on. Where’s Don?”

He gazed up at her without expression, closed the menu and pushed it towards her.

“A White Russian, please.”

Scrawled across the bottom of the menu were the words: You are in grave danger. You must leave this place.

“But…”

The man thrust the menu into her hands, his eyes wide and pleading. Elizabeth backed away, dropping the menu. It fell open on the next page.

The magician will help you.

Magician? She picked it up as a shadow fell over her. It was Arpad, his teeth locked together in a wolfish snarl.

“Never speak to that man again. Shalini will take his order.”

Elizabeth retreated into a corner. Shaking, she leaned against a heavy, velvet curtain. Without warning, it jerked open behind her and she fell back onto a low platform.

“My dear, it is clear that the stars have spoken.”

Elizabeth stared up into one of the most striking faces she had ever seen. One eye was brown; the other green. He was a short man with a long moustache and a scarlet turban. Raising her gently to her feet, he turned and bowed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Ishan the Illusionist and tonight you will have the privilege to witness the miraculous disappearance of this beautiful girl. First, she must drink the elixir.”

He passed her a silver goblet. Elizabeth took a sip and gasped. Surely the skin was peeling off her tongue?! Ishan tipped the rest into her spluttering mouth. She barely had time to swallow before he took her hand and led her towards a Victorian wardrobe.

He flung open the doors. It was empty inside, except for a few hangers and horrible, hairy coat.

“You see before you, ladies and gentlemen, an ordinary wardrobe. No Narnia in here.”

There was a soft murmer of laughter from the audience. Glancing towards the bar, Elizabeth saw Arpad advancing towards the stage. Even from here, she could see the veins bulging in his forehead.

“Get in, quick!” whispered Ishan, pushing her forward.

He closed the doors and Elizabeth was cocooned by a suffocating odour of mothballs. Suddenly, her head throbbed with pain. Her legs felt like they belonged to a newborn calf. She clutched at the coat hangers but they clattered down around her. She was sliding down, down, down and then, incredibly, she was flying through the air.

Before she had time to scream, she hit the lumpy mattress below. The hairy coat floated down beside her like a broken parachute.

“Elizabeth?” A voice whispered in the darkness.

 

Read more here - http://www.thestorymint.com/serials/illusion-m

Vacant Room

Joe Labrum writes this well thought out chapter six for this serial. Click on the link to read the serial so far and see why.

 

Written by: jlabrum

Seeing that old backpack breached a dike that has shielded and protected me for so long. Overwhelmed by a sudden flash of forgotten images, I sprang upright. Too suddenly, and I sagged backwards as the blood rushed from my brain. Brian, standing just behind, took the force of my slumping body as I reeled.

All alone, tears streaking my grubby cheeks, I watch the wood paneled door with flaking white paint. Watching and waiting. The dream returns. But this time it is more real. I see detail missing before; wide-slat Venetian blinds thick with dust on a small window above my bed. Morning rays casting brilliant beams, like beacons, through billowing dust kept stirring by a wobbling ceiling fan humming a low soothing whisper. Aching loneliness all over me like a shroud consumes me as I watch the door. She never comes. I am supposed to call the lady who looks after me Aunty Emma but I don’t know her. She comes in and brings me warm milk and toast, and when she opens the door I hear the metallic melody of a music bo

“Tamara?” The voice grows clear as it enters my universe, or rather, I return to it. I’m studying a somehow comforting humming sound from above me when I open my eyes and try to focus. They are met by Brian’s impossibly hazel eyes that revealed concern, curiosity, a little trepidation, if one can see all those emotions in a single glance. The blush was involuntary and instantaneous.

“Tamara?” Brian called again. “What just happened?”

“I guess I stood up too fast and fainted,” the words just came out. It’s never happened to me before and I’m embarrassed and don’t know what else to say.

“There is more to it than that, isn’t there?”

I don’t open up to strangers. The vulnerability terrifies me. But, somehow I am drawn to this man and a need for a connection. Perhaps he is someone who could help me unravel the mystery of my childhood and the dreams. So, I’m lying on the floor, Brian’s jacket under my head smelling all manly of deodorant and sweat and I’m telling him my life. Well, as much as I remember.

When I got to the part about the recurring dream Brian asks me if that was what I saw. I tell him that this was different; more vivid, more detail. I explain how I have always believed that I was raised by my Aunt Emma, but in this dream it didn’t seem like she was my aunt at all.

“Don’t you know how she’s connected? I mean what the relationship is that made her an aunt?” the look of incredulity is profound.

“I never thought of it” I tell him, “not until now.”

“Remarkable,” he rubs his unshaven chin with his right hand and offers his left to help me up. In it is the New Zealand key ring.

“I found it in the backpack and some old letters”.

http://www.thestorymint.com/serials/vacant-room

 

What’s in there?

Joe Labrum writes this well thought out chapter six for this serial. Click on the link to read the serial so far and see why.

 

Written by: jlabrum

Seeing that old backpack breached a dike that has shielded and protected me for so long. Overwhelmed by a sudden flash of forgotten images, I sprang upright. Too suddenly, and I sagged backwards as the blood rushed from my brain. Brian, standing just behind, took the force of my slumping body as I reeled.

All alone, tears streaking my grubby cheeks, I watch the wood paneled door with flaking white paint. Watching and waiting. The dream returns. But this time it is more real. I see detail missing before; wide-slat Venetian blinds thick with dust on a small window above my bed. Morning rays casting brilliant beams, like beacons, through billowing dust kept stirring by a wobbling ceiling fan humming a low soothing whisper. Aching loneliness all over me like a shroud consumes me as I watch the door. She never comes. I am supposed to call the lady who looks after me Aunty Emma but I don’t know her. She comes in and brings me warm milk and toast, and when she opens the door I hear the metallic melody of a music bo

“Tamara?” The voice grows clear as it enters my universe, or rather, I return to it. I’m studying a somehow comforting humming sound from above me when I open my eyes and try to focus. They are met by Brian’s impossibly hazel eyes that revealed concern, curiosity, a little trepidation, if one can see all those emotions in a single glance. The blush was involuntary and instantaneous.

“Tamara?” Brian called again. “What just happened?”

“I guess I stood up too fast and fainted,” the words just came out. It’s never happened to me before and I’m embarrassed and don’t know what else to say.

“There is more to it than that, isn’t there?”

I don’t open up to strangers. The vulnerability terrifies me. But, somehow I am drawn to this man and a need for a connection. Perhaps he is someone who could help me unravel the mystery of my childhood and the dreams. So, I’m lying on the floor, Brian’s jacket under my head smelling all manly of deodorant and sweat and I’m telling him my life. Well, as much as I remember.

When I got to the part about the recurring dream Brian asks me if that was what I saw. I tell him that this was different; more vivid, more detail. I explain how I have always believed that I was raised by my Aunt Emma, but in this dream it didn’t seem like she was my aunt at all.

“Don’t you know how she’s connected? I mean what the relationship is that made her an aunt?” the look of incredulity is profound.

“I never thought of it” I tell him, “not until now.”

“Remarkable,” he rubs his unshaven chin with his right hand and offers his left to help me up. In it is the New Zealand key ring.

“I found it in the backpack and some old letters”.

http://www.thestorymint.com/serials/vacant-room

 

Ray’s Smash List

Welcome! Every week I will be choosing new release books from the Smashwords listings. There will be something for every age and a mixture of genres. Some weeks I may go mad and post a list of a dozen or more books. This list reflects what I found interesting and hope you find something interesting too. If you see something you like just click on the link to read more about that book and the author. This is not a page for you to read about me although I do not make excuses for including my own book this week as it is a new release. If you want to see my books and those by Story Mint writers go to the shop just along the way.

 

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/474674?ref=raystone

Young adult or teen

GROUNDED

K.Weikel

Eenralla lived in a Dome, That Dome was controlled by the Government. The Government had a secret. That secret is out now, thanks to Eenralla. But now it doesn’t matter… Her brain isn’t even hers. Will she ever get it back?

 

 

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/448953?ref=raystone

Young adult or teen

CRAFT

Lacy Weatherford

Magic is put to the test as the plot thickens in Craft, book 2 in the series Of Witches and Demons!

 

 

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/448709?ref=raystone

Suspense/thriller

THE RETURN of NICOLATTANES

Pam Funke

Someone has murdered the world’s only hope, Nicolaitanes Balac. Who killed him and why? With the world continuing to spiral out of control after the onset of World War III, who’s going to save us now?

 

 

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/472901?=raystone

Suspense/thriller

TWISTED WIRE

Ray Stone

Enda Osin loves political intrigue. An MI5 mole draws him to industrial espionage. The USA are building a hyper-speed rocket. Caught in a dangerous Russian plot with a cell of spies, he’s been duped into helping the Russians build the same craft while causing a disaster, endangering lives. With Jessica Du Ross, he must expose the Russians and help the US fly first.

 

 

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/471627?ref=raystone

Romance/Contemporary

COMEBACK

Catherine Gayle

Book 6 of the Portland Storm series. Nicky Ericsson is trying to complete a comeback in both his personal and professional lives after succumbing to addiction. Jessica Lynch knows enough addicts through her work to know that letting her heart get involved only leads to heartache, but she can’t deny her attraction. Can he prove he won’t fall back into old habits, and complete the perfect comeback?

 

 

 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/461091?ref=raystone

Fantasy/Sci-Fi

CYBERCHRIST

Matthew Pallamary

Ashley Butler, a prize winning journalist at the San Diego Times receives an email from a man who claims to have discovered immortality. Thinking it a hoax, she forwards the email to friends and it  becomes the basis for an online church built around the boy, calling him the CyberChrist. While church and state battle over religious freedom online Ashley battles to stay alive.

 

Hostage

Written by: Ray Stone

Joey’s calm forceful voice echoed eerily through the connected earphones. Reece jerked instantly and twisted in his seat, a look of sudden shock creasing his grimy, sweaty face. Sam sat motionless, stunned.

Brian spoke first.

“Okay, Joey…listen…I’m really sorry about your older brother but you realise we had no choice. He was obviously involved in something bad. We had to get out. It was my decision to pull us out of there.”

“Shut up! Shut up, you murdering swine!” exploded Joey.

The shrill note of hysteria in Joey’s voice clearly indicated immediate trauma and shock. Sam bent forward to comfort him. She gasped loudly as he suddenly pulled a pistol from his flying suit. Then, grabbing her by the neck, he pulled her close and raised the pistol to her head.

“Now, Brian, you’re going back to the scene or Sam’s dead,” he ordered.

“Joey, I have to radio in,” he answered in a quiet but calming voice. “They will want to know what happened. Please be sensible and we’ll sort this out back at base,” pleaded Brian.

Sam sat on the floor, shaking uncontrollably, afraid to move or say anything. In his present state of mind, Joey was capable of anything, including killing her.

“You don’t get it,” sobbed Joey hysterically. “My brother and I planned this for months. This was our big payday and you ruined it, you dirty swine.” He paused. “Radio in and tell them you are attending. That’s all.”

Brian looked sideways with apprehension at Reece. Nothing was going to happen until they landed. He had no choice but to please Joey. He radioed in a brief message. Gently easing the control stick, he banked gradually until they were on a heading back to location 248. The yellow corn fields below gave way to the dark green canopy of the forest. Brian wondered if there were any others involved with Joey and his brother. They were certainly going to be armed. The situation was turning really bad. He looked down to his left leg. The emergency very pistol was holstered tightly against the cabin wall.

“You want to tell us about this?” asked Sam, nervously.

Joey pushed the pistol against her forehead. “You wanna’ know, huh?”

Involved with a drug baron for some years, Joey’s brother was receiving back-handers for information and favours. They had planned to double cross the man and ambush a huge delivery of ‘weed.’ The money would last a lifetime. It became apparent as Joey told them of the planned theft that he idolised his older brother. With no parents from the age of eleven, he grew up in his brother’s crooked black shadow.

Brian flew them in low, skimming and hovering over the tall trees before landing in the clearing. Two cops were running from the trees, each carrying an automatic.

Reece breathed a sigh of relief and smiled grimly.

Joey pushed the door back with his foot.

“You okay, Joey?” called one cop.

“Yeah. I got us some hostages.”

Copyright Ray Stone 2014

 

Follow this serial and tune in regularly. http://www.thestorymint.com/serials/hostage

Book of the week

This week I feature Enos Russell’s latest book. This unique author has many works to his name and his shorts are really good. He also has work on audio too.

Here we go again … another short story in the works.

Adam, a cynical graduate student majoring in microbiology, lives with six friends in a old, dilapidated house on fraternity row. He attempts to solve his geek roomies’ unfullilled social needs in a most unusual way. Getting geeks hooked up is far from trivial, but adding to his challenge is that these geeks cover the GLBTQ spectrum. Adam was smart to think their problems would be minimized by placing them in a dark room so he begins by taking them to a late night club. Then things really get strange, in a terrifying and horrible way.

 

 

Enos L. Russell

A review for Twisted Wire

Twisted Wire – Jennifer Jansen (WebWeaver Books) Review.

Aug 23 2014

Ray Stone has written a fabulous piece of fiction and the second in the Enda Osin trilogy. To date I would say this is his best work.

Enda Osin, political columnist, once again becomes embroiled in a political scandal, this time of huge proportions. A strange call from a wrong number and Enda is investigating. What he gets into is political intrigue and scandal followed by sabotage and murder. The stakes are high and lives are at risk, especially Enda’s. With assistance from a few dedicated people, some strange, some not so, some out to settle a score, and all of them willing to risk their lives to help Enda get to the truth, they embark on a most dangerous mission.

The characters are wonderful and true to the part they play. I loved them, especially Fish, who enters the story early on and is an integral part. The action scenes are well-written and I had trouble putting the book down, wanting to see what would happen next.

I highly recommend this book and very much look forward to the next Enda adventure from Ray Stone which will be released in early 2015.

Gabrielle Burt – Story Mint Poet

Submitted by Gabrielle Burt on Saturday 19 July 2014

This poem is the result of a writing challenge using the ‘starter line’ from the famous and inspirational Casabianca by Mrs Felicia Dorothea Hermans. The original poem told the story of a 12year old boy, the son of one of the ship’s officers on the French flagship, L’Orient, who on 28 July 1798, at the Battle of the Nile, perished when, to the astonishment of Lord Nelson’s sailors, he stayed at his post as his ship burned around him and eventually sank. My poem has a somewhat different ending.

 

SS Salvation

 

The boy stood on the burning deck

Beneath his feet a sinking wreck

To starboard swung a lifeboat strong

The focus of a surging throng

 

 

His feet were hot, his mind was fleet

He’d have to sprint to claim his seat

Above he spied a dangling rope

The deck by now was up in smoke

 

 

He darted, feinted, leapt and clung

Then high above the flames he swung

The little boat was filling fast

As he connected with the mast!

 

 

His skull was cracked, his breath was gone

He slithered down amongst the throng

Bright constellations lit the sky

‘O Lord’ he prayed, ‘don’t let me die!’

 

 

The pulleys screamed as down they fell

Accompanied by a deathly knell

The lifeboat shuddered, creaked and moaned

Then sailed across the sea alone

 

 

… Salvation was their little boat

That sailed upon The Sea of Hope

 

Gabrielle Burt 2009 ©

Buckle up for the ride of your life!

Ready…steady…take a deep breath. Murder and industrial espionage go hand in hand in this dark and suspenseful second novel in the Enda Osin Mystery series.

Letter from Malta

        I have a huge collection of photos taken by my wife and myself over the years. One of the most beautiful visits was Victoria, Canada. As I wake up each morning to eighty degrees of heat I look at pictures like the one above. There is nothing wrong with Malta. The picture above shows beauty but hides the elements – cold and wet weather. The next picture reveals the elements but hides the beauty behind the wall. My point is that wherever we are we should find and enjoy our surroundings. I am now in my second year on Malta and next spring we will be moving to Cyprus, a much bigger island where I can enjoy a green landscape, historical buildings and weather that produces some of the best wine grapes in the world. Both these islands are worlds apart in culture, politics and religion yet both are a short flight apart. Malta has a wonderful Italian influence mixed with old British colonialism. The Maltese speak English as well as Maltese. Happy and loud and eager to take one’s money, they are very business orientated. One can be forgiven for thinking them rude but they are who they are and in the main one can get along with them as long as it is remembered this island is their home, not the visitor’s. When in Rome… Cyprus could not be any different. I last visited in 1974 and a lot has changed since then apart from the fact the Turks have colonised the northern island. Politics apart, the Greeks are smart, friendly and quiet, tending to keep themselves to themselves until they get to know you. I love the wonderful cooking of traditional dishes including my favourite – lamb and small minted potatoes with salad. The wine is local and excellent. Malta unfortunately caters in the main for the British tourist who can delight in Fish ‘n’ Chips and hamburgers. The Cypriots have survived an economic catastrophe in recent years and are now on the mend. I am looking forward to the lower cost of living. For the rent I am paying at the moment I can easily find a small villa for the same price. So while I finish up my present novel and get ready to launch it next month, I look forward to a short fact finding holiday on Cyprus in October. I’ll let you know how we get on. Ciao, ciao my friends.

 

England of course