Helen B. Henderson's Blog, page 41

Hooked on Windmaster Golem, Fog Attack #mfrwhooks

 

Magic animated the golem. Can someone without powers stop them?
 

A snippit from Windmaster Golem. 

 

Tendrils of fog clutched at Brodie’s ankles. The thick haze not only dampened the sound of the surf crashing against the cliff, it hid the trail along the cliff edge. Not even the light from the gibbous moon showed anything other than shadows.

For several breaths he stood and marked his location on a mental map of the trail. Switchbacks and a sharp drop-off marked the downhill slope to the village. A tug pulled the long sword from the scabbard hanging on his back. “Good thing I have TânOer with me,” he told the night. He kept the weapon in his cottage in the main village unless being used in a lesson. “The short sword I usually carry while on the Isle of Mages is too short to be useful as a pointer.” The memory of why he had the enspelled long sword with him flickered into being. That afternoon he had shown the folly of hubris to a pair of second-season students and spent the rest of the day at the forge.

One final breath to center himself and he dragged the tip along the ground in a long arc in front of him. Step by step, he listened for the scratch of steel on dirt or the swish as the blade slid into the grass alongside the trail. Boulders filled the space from the grassy verge to the cliff’s edge, so a scrape on rock told he was no longer on the path. Every snick of steel on stone dropped him to the ground. On hands and knees he explored the area until he determined if it was a single rock or a pile of them marking a sharp turn of the path to warn the unwary to slow down.

His fingers didn’t meet more rocks, just open air.

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Hop, Skip, and Jump #mfrwauthor

Welcome to Week 40 of the MFRW 52-week challenge. The topic is "What Do You Do On A Sunshiny Day?"

When I originally started writing posts for this years challenge, the area where I was experienced rain in 24 out of 28 days which was not conducive to a pleasant isolation experience. So I put the topic away to be written another day.

Today temperatures reached 80, with a nice breeze and cloudless blue skies qualifying it as a sunshiny day. So what did I do?

I sat on the porch glider for a couple of hours and watched lawns in the neighborhood being mowed. Then I went inside to the windowed porch and opened the door and a couple of windows to let the fresh air in as I watched cardinals and blue jays flit from branch to branch.

 

Since parks are off-limits due to COVID-19 restrictions, besides going outside to sit, weather allowed walks around the neighborhood and sitting on a family-member's porch (while observing social distancing) and watching dogs and great-grandchildren romp in the yard

In earlier times before age, infirmities, and caregiving, sunshiny days were filled with walking the boardwalk and riding bicycles on the Henry Hudson trail. Flea markets and outdoor concerts also filled the hours of nice weather. And in the autumn, craft festivals were a staple entertainment. (This year they were all cancelled.)


No this is not me.
Washington's Crossing State Park, PA
D&R Canal State Park, NJ

  
Henry Hudson Trail  (Monmouth County, NJ)
with Manhattan skyline




~till next time, May you enjoy both the serenity of days with clouds and rain and the more active days of sun. Helen

Be sure to see how the other authors answered the question. https://mfrw52week.blogspot.com/

Black and White or Color #mfrwauthor

Welcome to Week 39 of the MFRW 52-week challenge. The topic is "Favorite Television Show of All Time." Please hold the rotten tomatoes and trolling comments. While it might have been voted the best television program of all time by whatever poll did so, my favorite television program is NOT Friends. Just as our tastes in books may change over time, so can our viewing preferences. I think the best accolade should be awarded to whatever stands the taste of time. Not what some backroom committee or network executive decides to puh down our throats at any given time.
 
These days many "old" programs are black and white. (No it isn't a problem with your television, you are watching a program originally filmed in black and white.) Sometimes it is the genre that brings us back. My interest in flying and military hasn't waned. Do I still watch Rat Patrol on the Heroes and Icons Network? Yes. However the more learned eye picks up on unrealistic tactics. Viewing episodes of Twelve O'Clock High comes with a deeper appreciation of the personal tolls the series presented.

Many people today may not remember Hopalong Cassidy with his closing charge to children. Or Dale and Roy Rogers on Trigger and Buttercup. (Yes, I know I'm probably dating myself.) The tale of the Cartwrights on the Ponderosa lasted through several sets of sons as father Ben took on new characters as members of his family.

In a different direction, there are the favorites for the depth of the characters or a storyline that resonated. It could be the hunted David Banner of The Incredible Hulk or Richard Kimble of the Fugitive. Then there is Star Trek which birth to several spin-offs, movies, and entire shelves full of books. For a giggle, there was The Red Skelton Show and Carol Burnett.

As you can tell, choosing an all-time favorite is impossible. You might chose a favorite for a genre or a season. However you decide, one thing makes it a favorite. Your enjoyment when watching it.

~till next time, happy viewing. Helen

Be sure to see how the other authors answered the question.

Out and About - In the Reader's Circle

I'm at the Readers Circle talking about Windmaster Legacy. And there's a short excerpt that introduces the reader to Lord Dal, on the occasion of his formal petition for a handfasting to Ellspeth. Stop by and leave a comment to win an ebook. Winner picked at random.  

And with Windmaster Golem's release on October 10th, this is the perfect time to read the rest of the series. 

~till next time. Helen

 

Chatting about my favorite things at the BWL Inside...

Chatting about my favorite things at the BWL Insider Blog. Hope you'll stop by. ~till next time. Helen

 

 

Line in the Sand #mfrwauthor

Welcome to the next post in the MFRW 52-week challenge. The official topic is "As a reader, what attracts you most to a character." I couldn't answer this as a reader. My writer hat kept slipping making it impossible to think. And when I asked my characters for their thoughts, they just laughed and said, "We are who we are." That really isn't sufficient for what is supposed to be a "thoughtful" post, so I went in another direction, one inspired by the date. The title for the post came from a comment left on the blog post, Never Forget.

I tried to think of a post along the lines of service. Duty, honor, and loyalty came to mind, but that was done. Every option from the price of duty to those who preserve the homefront were considered and tossed. Even the date, 9-11 (or what is now known as Patriot's Day, had a post previously done. However, even though almost two decades have passed since the fall of the Twin Towers, because of my own personal ties both to the date and the event, I kept returning to it.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Author's image

The impact of the date goes beyond the attack on the national psyche, for me it was personal. Although the fall of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center and the crash of United Flight 93 near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, can technically be considered two events, for me they are one, inextricably entwined. On the date now simply called 9-11, I lived across the bay from lower Manhattan and stood on the boardwalk watching the smoke rise from the buildings. Other connections were working in the north tower for several years and knowing someone who died on Flight 93. I also had family members stranded when all transportation was halted. One of who was 1800 miles away from home as a result of a death in the family.

   
The fall of the Twin Towers also impacted me professionally. One of the local histories I've been fortunate enough to research and write dealt with a Monmouth County, New Jersey town. The county had one of the highest losses of people that day. Considering that town resident's lost in the towers and on Flight 93 the event had to be included in the history. The writing of which turned out to be quite emotional.

So now the emotions are relived twice. And that didn't include the barrage of mentions in the news day after day, week after week, and for years later. But the date wasn't finished with me. Those same emotions of anger and loss reared again when I wrote the history of a local organization. One of those lost on Flight 93 was a leader of the church and included in the book, which meant reliving those dark days.

Enough reflections. It is time to focus on a happier thought, a special someone's birthday as she turns 91 years young.


~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, A Friend Lost, A New Friend Gained #mfrwhook

 
In celebration of next month's release of Windmaster Golem, for the next several weeks, content will focus on it and the rest of the Windmaster Novels. First however, due to requests, one final post from Imprisoned in Stone.

The excerpt continues the attack on Colywnn, Gareth, and Maerva. In previous excerpts, Gareth and the trapped mage, Dylan, combine their powers to fight off the Brethren. Colwynn defeats his opponent, but in a final act of revenge, a magical attack is launched at Colwynn's two friends. To set the scene, Gareth has been fatally wounded. Because of their joined powers, Dylan has control of Gareth's body. His magic is weakened and he is lying on the ground with Maerva and Colwynn kneeling alongside.  However, the blending of Dylan and Gareth's  magic also means when the body dies, both will be trapped forever. Their souls imprisoned in stone.

SPOILER ALERT - Only one can be saved.

Excerpt:

Dylan arched in sympathy with Gareth. The shock of full awareness sent nerve endings into overload. For the first time in centuries, air filled Dylan’s lungs. He was alive, yet not. His state blurred when the shimmering bridge formed over the black abyss. He refused to die, not before Cuhlwch or if necessary, one his descendants met their deserved end.

But he could not live and sentence Gareth to a lifetime tethered to the earth, away from his ancestors and kin. There had to be some other way.

Gareth’s ghostly figure materialized. “I can see the veil thinning,” the apparition said. “The rainbow bridge is for me, not you, Dylan.” The weaponsmith hesitated a moment then offered a hand. “Dylan, use what time is allotted my body to replace what was taken from yours.”

Dylan clasped the almost transparent forearm in the bond of brothers. “Give my love to Ethne for me. Tell her the time of waiting will soon be over.

“Hurry, Dylan,” Gareth gasped. “You must be in control before I pass through the veil. I can’t maintain the link for long.”

The pull of the black abyss threatened to pull Dylan into it. He cried out for mercy from Colwynn, a mercy not granted him by Beven or Cuhlwch. The darkness thickened and a second glimmering figure appeared on the bridge. “Gareth, watch out,” Dylan yelled.

A shadow version of Nemor grabbed Gareth and attempted to throw him off the bridge. Lightning flickered from one to the other as they struggled.

Despite the risk of an eternity in the void, Dylan bonded his soul, his will, to Gareth to help the weaponsmith pass through the veil.

“No, we will not fail after all these eons.” He reached up and grasped Colwynn’s robe. “Nemor’s spirit is on the bridge, trying to force Gareth off. If he succeeds, Gareth—and I—are doomed to the final death. He can’t hold Nemor off while he is tethered to this body.” His voice roughed with despair. “If you won’t free me, put me back into the stone. At least give Gareth a chance.”

Sadness filled the faces of those leaning over him. Dylan urged them to hurry. He did not know how much longer he could support Gareth. The power of the earth drained what little strength he had.

“I’m sorry, old friend,” Colwynn whispered. Though tears filled his eyes, his voice was strong as he called out the incantation to separate the souls and release Gareth.

Dylan felt the words break the ties that trapped his soul as well as that of Gareth. With a ragged gasp, he took control of Gareth’s body. Now released from putting his energy into keeping the body alive, Gareth had the full power of his being for the fight. Dylan looked at the weaponsmith’s faint aura and the black core of Nemor’s. Would there be enough time for Gareth to defeat his enemy and cross through the veil before the bridge vanished? Guilt added to Dylan’s knowledge that if Gareth failed, he was responsible.

The now almost translucent ghost that was Gareth grinned in anticipation. No longer hampered, he dropped on his back. With a yell, he flipped Nemor over his head.

Nemor teetered on the edge of the abyss. His arms windmilling, he fell backward. His mouth opened in a soundless scream that followed him down into the darkness.

“My wife has been avenged,” Dylan whispered. What little pleasure he felt was overwhelmed by the sadness when Gareth reached the veil, turned and waved a final farewell.

~ ~ End of Excerpt ~ ~  

I should mention, that this is not the final battle in the book. There is a lot more action and suspense to come.

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Hot, Humid, What's Not to Like #mfrwauthor

Welcome to another week of the MFRW 52-week challenge. The topic is "What you like /dislike about the climate where you live."

LIKE

Minimal or no snow. Especially nice since our old house had over 100 feet of new sidewalk to shovel, not including the extra wide driveway. It wasn't too bad when we bought the house because we only had to clear about 50 feet, the driveway and a narrow path from the street to the front steps so the mailman could reach it. However, the town in their infinite wisdom when they replaced the grass walkway with concrete, also replaced the vintage slate sidewalk with concrete. The original slate cleared easily and with a little sun kept itself ice free. The concrete should have been called "ice city."

DISLIKE

The climate in the mid-South in the summer can be described in three letters... H O T. Where I used to live, three days of consecutive temperature over 90 degrees constituted a heat wave. Down here the bar is raised. Weather is not classified as a heat wave until a heat index of 100 degrees is reached for a week.

I can tolerate temperatures in the 80s or even the low 90s if the humidity isn't too bad. But the closer the temperature gets to 100 the harder it is to think and work.

Although the pandemic has eliminated this year's outdoor activities, a 110 degree heat index can do the same. Last year we couldn't attend several events including the county fair, concerts, town festival, and the special senior day at the zoo because the temperature made it unsafe to leave the house.

I'm hoping that next year we'll be able to resume more of our activities

~till next time, Helen

Windmaster To Sail Again

Edits for my latest novel, Windmaster Golem, have been incorporated and await proofreading and the final audio review. Since the next part of the tale of the archmage and the sea captain won't be available until October, why not start at the beginning of the series. You're invited to cast off and fill the sails for love and adventure.

Windmaster - Revenge set Ellspeth and the archmage, Dal, on the path to her destiny, but prophecy controlled the journey. Adventure, magic, and the search for a hidden treasure in an epic fantasy.  buy link

Windmaster Legacy -  As archmage, Dal might be able to survive killing the future of magic, but as a man could he live with the knowledge he caused the death of a loved one.  buy link

And stay tuned for the cover reveal of Windmaster Golem. 

~till next time. Come join me as we journey the high seas, and from mountain heights to cavern depths on an epic quest to save the future of magic.

Hooked on Imprisoned, Maerva Saved #mfrhooks

A teaser of magic of a darker kind from Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. Every full moon, they awakened him and renewed the bonds. When the blood dried on the stone, his awareness faded, but during those few brief moments, he had one thought--revenge. 

For this weeks teaser, Dylan's search for revenge continues. Last excerpt, Maerva was threatened. Now the blending of Gareth's and Dylan's powers save here. But the question remains. At what cost will it be achieved?

Excerpt:

“Dylan, help me,” Gareth yelled. “Our link is fading.” Using the last vestige of their combined powers, he gestured. The man who threatened Maerva turned into a pillar of ash. A heartbeat later, the dagger clattered to the ground. Gareth moved toward Maerva. He only took a single stride before light blinded him.

Every nerve in his body reacted to the pain. With a groan, he dropped to his knees, then fell forward. Hard rocks ground into his face. “No!” Maerva’s voice pierced the throbbing. Her hands beat out the sparks smoldering on his clothes. She mumbled a spell and a blue mist left her fingers to flow over Gareth’s body, forming a living cocoon. 

Gareth sucked down a long breath at the brief respite from pain. Labored breathing punctuated his speech. “Nemor was right. I didn’t have enough powers.” His back arched as fire raced along already tortured nerves. The runes flickered out.

* * End of Excerpt * *

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