Helen B. Henderson's Blog, page 67

Outdoors or Indoors? #mfrwauthor

It's Friday and time for another topic in the challenge. This is one of those topics where minds can soar with the birds or crawl in the gutter. We're supposed to write about the most fun we can have while dressed. Now that covers a lot of ground.

Going with the title, first up is outdoors. I've enjoyed photography, hiking in the woods, and bicycling the Henry Hudson Trail and the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. Although it is an activity reserved for vacations and I haven't done it for a while, I'd say that horseback riding is the most fun I can have outdoors.

Indoors there is one activity that wins hands down. Reading. If I'm in the mood for nostalgia maybe it will be one of the histories of the Monmouth County towns I wrote. Or for pure escapism, I'll pull a fantasy or science fiction off the shelf.

~till next time, I'm off to take a walk or if it's raining, sit on the porch in the rocking chair, put on some soft music, and read a book.  Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, He's Real #mfrwauthor

For the next several weeks, the posts will showcase magic of a darker kind. Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. When a mind touches his and hope for escape from his eternal prison soars.

Last week's excerpt deal with Maerva's first contact with Dylan. But it was more nightmare than dream. In this week's post, a hidden book makes her wonder if there really is a wizard trapped in stone.

Excerpt:

Maerva reached for the records she had been reading before the holidays. Her hand shifted. Without her conscious will, she picked another. Age cracked the leather binding and dust covered the top of the pages. She looked closer and realized that the dust was just a mesmer, a distraction to the casual observer. A lingering hint of magic provided the identity of he who had cast the spell–Colwynn.

This is the book he was reading. Why did he hide it?

Although she laid the book flat on the table, the top cover opened. Page after page fluttered as if an unseen hand turned them until it stopped at a tear-stained leaf. An eerie silence fell over the room. Moving the candle closer, Maerva started reading. The tight script recorded a mountain legend about two lovers separated for all eternity. One crossed the rainbow bridge and passed through the veil to the eternal clanhold while the other, bound to this world, waited for release from his imprisonment.

Maerva’s gasp echoed through the room. The story sounded like her dreams. And Colwynn had been reading this book. A cold chill rippled down her spine. Did he know more about the grove? And Dylan?

Again and again, she read through the section, searching. For what she was not fully sure, only that she needed to find it.

~ * ~

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Out and About at Kerry Parson's

I'm interviewed by Kerry Parsons on the Chat About Books blog. Hope you'll stop by and see what I said about life, writing, and bad endings. Here's one question as a teaser. 

If you wrote an autobiography, what would your title be?

Be Nice Or I'll Kill You In My Novel. An alternative title would be Dragons, Swords and Wings: An Author's Tale.

See you at the Chat About Books blog.

~till next time, Helen

Guilty or Just Delightful? #mfrwauthor

This year's challenge is just not fair. They keep making us choose. First we had to choose one from all the books, novels, short stories or anything else we've written. Now they want us to choose an indulgence. Just one.

Is it food or time alone?  A special meal or a treat? An airline seat upgrade or a special accessory in my truck.


Last year's discussion of a similar topic has examples that appeared in my books (and my heart.) This year I added a stylus for my PC/tablet as an indulgence. I wanted to be able to write and draw without using keyboard or mouse. So far I haven't found a stylus that will work with any of my computers. A pen mouse was tried and that didn't work either. So I'm back to a finger or the old-fashioned click mouse. Scratch one indulgence off the list. Time for add something else to the list.

And your answer as to my favorite indulgence? I won't decide and you can't make me.

It's a hop be sure to visit the posts for more indulgences. ~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Nightime Visitor, #MFRWHooks

For the next several weeks, the posts showcase magic of a darker kind.

Imprisoned in Stone. For the crime of healing without payment, the Brethren imprisoned Dylan’s soul in stone. Last week's post recounted a time of awareness. This week covers the contact when a mind touches his. He still has no hope for escape from his eternal prison for his possible savior is unaware of her latent magic, the power needed to free him.

Excerpt:

Maerva opened eyes to a darkness, not only of her room, but of the soul. The sense of a presence held her motionless, even though she knew no entry was possible through the closed door or shuttered window. Air whispered over her skin as if someone touched her cheek. A breath later, the impression of an intruder vanished.

The roar of waves crashing against the cliff, something she had heard since birth, comforted Maerva and pushed away the residual fear. Deep breaths removed more of the tension from her body, even though her skin remained clammy from perspiration. The moon reappeared from behind its filtering curtains of haze. No longer obscured, the low-hanging globe sent a shaft of white light streaming through the window. The beam moved up the wall beyond her bed, turning the darkness into a shadowed frame. Glimmering letters written by a ghostly hand resolved into words.

They are coming.
I can sense the presence of the Brethren.
They murdered my son... my wife.
They are coming–the ones who killed me!

~ * ~

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Capturing Thoughts #mfrwauthor

Wow. We're up to week 25. Next week it will be the half-way mark. So diary or journal?

Pixabay Image. Used under CCO Creative Commons.The two words are synonyms, but according to several sources, there is an important difference. A diary is strictly a record of personal and daily experiences. Whereas, a journal is more personal. One does not just record one's experiences but also thoughts, feelings and reflections. It contains feelings, emotions, problems, and self-assurances and can be used to evaluate one's life.




Pixabay Image.Used under CCO Creative Commons.
This topic was fairly easy. I don't keep a journal or diary in the traditional sense. There is no notebook with pink hearts hidden in a bottom drawer. No book of secrets secured with a lock whose key I wear on a chain around my neck.

The closest I've come was a few short stints of keeping a daily record of thoughts and activities when watching someone's children. The notes were not as much my thoughts as reminders of things to tell the parents or a means to vent when the teens were teens. Those journal pages were destroyed before sharing with anyone.




Some might call spiral notebook I keep while caregiving a journal. Times when medications were given, what vital readings were and doctors comments are jotted down for future reference.

These days, it's a digital world so a journal doesn't have to be on paper. there are journal apps for phones and computers. Reference notes, tips on craft, lists of possible character names, and photographs for setting inspiration that used to be on paper now fill several digital journals.

That said, I still carry a small notebook with me that serves as a temporary record of observations or storylines until I transfer the data to a digital journal or a folder in the file cabinet. 

~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Powers Bound, #MFRWHooks

For the next several weeks, the posts will showcase magic of a darker kind. 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.

Excerpt:

Awareness returned. Not in the gradual clearing of a gray fog, but in an explosion to full consciousness. With it came yet another cycle of the torture Dylan had suffered for countless years. The memory of his dead wife, Ethne, and their son, Fallon, brought with it a glimpse of the happiness that once was theirs. Pain at the loss of everything he once loved followed.

The murderers of his family once again stood before him, as they had time and again. Dylan prepared to fight. His hand closed around the hilt of his sword. Nothing was there. A moan grounded in despair echoed through Dylan’s soul. His spirit was still bound to the stone... his powers still chained by the magic of his enemies. He was helpless.

~ * ~

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Free Read - Pirates Reprise

Space Pirates took his wife and daughter. Now they want his ship and the young girl in his charge.

A short story of adventure in a world of imagination.

Since the early days of sailing ships, pirates are part of legend and fact. Outer space, while posing technological challenges, offers greater rewards to those who in the future, follow the pirate banner of the past. The short story, Pirates Reprise, takes piracy from the era of cannon and sail into the future.


The first officer of the space-liner Halycon lost his wife and daughter to pirates. When he is trapped along with a young yeoman and the daughter of the colony's governor, the fate of the ship and crew rests not on the squad of marines, but the first officer and his two charges.



Time to decide whether to aim cannons the or strike your colors. Come along on the journey into the stars.




If the file doesn't appear, Click HERE.
If you enjoyed this story, come join me on journeys through the stars, back to the past, or among fantasy worlds of imagination at helenhenderson-author.blogspot.com.
 

This eBook is a gift from the author, and may be shared with a spouse or partner, but may not be uploaded to shared sites. Thank you for preventing piracy, and respecting the hard works of authors, whether in print or ebook.

Online, Offline.. #mfrwauthor

We're almost to the midway point of the challenge. So what can't I live without. I know several people who literally have their phones attached to their ears, but not me, so it's not a phone. At this point in time, even though several authors I know used the start of the new year to quit writing, I'm not quite ready to do so. So I'm an author and still need to create my books.

The one item I can't live without might be a computer. It is intricately tied to my life as an author. Whether tablet, laptop, or desktop versions, they enable research, creating a permanent record, maintaining business records, and for digital submissions that companies now require.

We really learn how much we depend on our devices when they don't work such as when a hard drive crashes or in the aftermath of a storm when there is no electricity for days or weeks. So maybe I should put an old-fashioned manual typewriter on the list.



But I was a reader first so the one thing I couldn't live without is books.




It's a hop so be sure to visit the other posts to see what those authors can't live without. ~till next time, Helen

Hooked on First Change, After The Dance #MFRWHooks

The dragshi are more than just a man or woman. Each are two beings–one a dragon, the other a human–sharing one body in space in time and able to change forms with the other at will. Their world and the adventures of the dragon shifters are recorded in the Dragshi Chronicles.

Within each of the chronicles, the ceoltiers, the keepers of the past and teachers of the present, recount some legend. As with all such tales, some contain larger than life deeds. Others are the simple story of a man or woman doing what must be done, regardless of the cost. Sometimes embellished, the ceoltiers use the stories of times and actions past to educate and inspire.

Unlike the previous works in the series which related to the trader girl Anastasia and Lord Branin Llewlyn, First Change features the real story behind the legends told in the previous volumes. First Change contains five stories of duty and honor, love and loss, happiness and despair from the chronicles. As with all such tales, some contain larger than life deeds. Others are the simple story of a man or woman doing what must be done, regardless of the cost.

The excerpts from MAGIC AND STEEL have followed Kedar and the one he protected, the Lady Mairin to a festival. Her stalker has been introduced both at a distance and up close when he claimed the right of a dance. I'm ending the series from MAGIC and STEEL with a touch of heat and cold.

Now this week's excerpt:


The tune changed to a quick beat and Kedar took a step towards the food tables. A wicked grin on her face, Mairin held fast. “I love the dragon wing dance,” she said. “And, Kedar, you can’t tell me you don’t know the steps. I saw you and a village girl perform it at a winter entertainment.”

Unable to deny the truth, Kedar submitted. Calling upon the knowledge learned from hours of practice, he slid his arm around Mairin’s waist.

She responded to his lead as if they had partnered for years. Usually not performed beyond the walls of Cloud Eyrie, the moves of the dragon wing dance were unknown to most of the townspeople. One by one, the other couples withdrew from the dance floor leaving Mairin and Kedar alone—and the center of attention. The music rose to a crescendo. In response, he spun her into a dip and they held the tableau. Applause and calls of, “kiss her,” rang in Kedar’s ears. Placing Mairin on her feet, he matched her curtsy with a deep bow.

The ceoltier leading the musicians raised his voice to be heard above the clamor. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Ceoltier Guild thanks each and all for attending. That magnificent rendition of the dragon wing dance concludes the evening. The food vendors want to catch a few hours sleep and the dawning comes too quick. However, I’ve been asked to mention that the inn will be open for those who wish to continue the festival.”

Kedar waved to the ceoltiers, and an arm around Mairin’s waist guided her toward the line of coaches arriving to take the revelers home. He threw a thought at a familiar shape standing just beyond the festival entrance. <Birog, I’m taking Mairin back to the compound. >

<I’ll have the coach brought to the front of the line,> the ceoltier replied.

To prevent Mairin from sensing his plans, he bought two glasses of wine and they drank it as he guided her through the festival. Several coaches blocked the one Birog said was waiting. It wasn’t the open space that triggered an alarm in Kedar’s senses, but the narrow passageways between the buildings. Each provided the perfect location for a footpad—or an assassin—to wait.

Fur brushed against his leg. Faoth moved ahead, slipping from shadow to shadow, slowing in each pool of black. Kedar used the delay to examine a plate of beef strips on one table or a slice of cake on another, until Faoth moved on.

Finally, they reached the end of the vendors and the ceoltier’s wagon still could not reach them. His senses stretched to their maximum awareness, Kedar headed down the street.

Mairin suddenly stopped, falling into Kedar, spinning them into a narrow passage between two warehouses. The movement ended with him entangled in Mairin’s arms and his back against the rough stones of a wall. Her warm breath danced along his cheek. “I believe it is traditional to end the dragon wing with a kiss.”

Her lips pressed against his.

Fire raced in his veins. Every muscle strained to pull her close, to blend their bodies.

You cannot, duty hissed. Mairin is not safe.

The warning allowed Kedar to keep a part of himself detached from Mairin’s advances. His attention focused not on her, but the opposite wall. He swore what had been a shadow detached itself from the structure.

~ * ~

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Additional excerpts from the three novellas (and two bonus short stories) in First Change.