Showing posts with label paranormal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranormal. Show all posts

Saturday, November 29, 2025

Penance - And Complementary Music by Shnabubula - By Sharon Sala

 




Six weeks ago, a simple trip to her neighborhood pharmacy had turned into a nightmare. She’d walked into the middle of a robbery. She never even saw the man who shot her in the head and left her for dead. She’d survived, but some of her senses had not. She was dealing with short-term memory loss and a tendency to stagger. Even though she’d been told the problems were most likely temporary, she waged a daily battle with depression. Her parents had been killed in a car wreck when she was twenty-one. They’d owned the apartment building in which she had grown up, so finances were never going to be a problem. But she was alone. There were no aunts. No cousins. No grandparents. Except for a few friends—and most recently her boyfriend, Dominic Tucci, who lived in the apartment right above hers—she was alone. Her doctor kept reminding her that she should be grateful to be alive, and on one level, she knew he was right. But he wasn’t living in her shoes. If she’d been anywhere else but at that pharmacy when the robbery happened, then she wouldn’t have died twice on the way to the hospital. She wouldn’t be mistaking salt for sugar. She wouldn’t be missing a head of hair and staggering like a drunk when she stood up. 

Instead of being grateful that she’d survived, she couldn’t quit thinking of what she’d lost. But that wasn’t the end of her troubles. On top of everything else, something strange was happening inside her head. She’d begun to hear odd things. Sounds, not voices—at least, she didn’t think it was voices. It sounded more like the distant sound of rapids—a rush of wind and water inside her head that, when it came, blocked out everything around her. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was frightening, and it was driving her crazy. The blank moments, as she called them, even had a rhythm. First came that sound, then a cold sweat, then panic with no reason. Part of her feared it was the beginning of an emotional breakdown. And part of her feared it wasn’t—that it was going to turn out to be a permanent souvenir of her resurrection. She was twenty-six years old and living the life of a senior citizen with dementia, and tonight was living proof. 

Here she was, alone in her apartment on a Saturday night, eating ice cream and watching the news like some old maid. All she needed was a cat. Frustrated with herself and the situation as it stood, she stabbed her spoon into the mound of mocha fudge and then scooped up another bite, letting it melt on her tongue while she upped the sound on the TV and watched Pat Sajak bantering with Vanna White. A few moments later, an announcer broke into “Wheel of Fortune” with a special bulletin. 

“This just in. Police are on the scene of a kidnapping that occurred only hours ago at The Dakota. Molly Dane, the five-year-old daughter of one of Hollywood’s blockbuster stars, Lyla Dane, was taken by force from the family apartment. At this time, they have yet to receive a ransom demand. The housekeeper was seriously injured during the abduction and is, at the present time, in surgery. Police are hoping to be able to talk to her once she regains consciousness. In the meantime, we are going now to a press conference with Lyla Dane.” 

Horrified, Nicole stilled as the cameras went live to where the actress was speaking before a bank of microphones. “I thought I had problems,” she muttered, instantly ashamed of herself and her attitude. When the woman began to speak, Nicole leaned forward, absently resting the bowl of ice cream in her lap. The shock and terror in Lyla Dane’s voice were physically painful to watch, but even though Nicole kept upping the volume, the sound continued to fade. Just when she was beginning to think something was wrong with her set, the broadcast suddenly switched from the Dane press conference to what appeared to be footage of the kidnapping. 

The clip began inside the apartment. When the front door suddenly flew back against the wall and four men rushed in, Nicole gasped. Horrified, she quickly realized that this must have been caught on the Danes’ security camera inside. As Nicole continued to watch, a small Asian woman, who she guessed was the housekeeper, rushed forward in an effort to keep them out. When one of the men hit her in the face with his gun, Nicole moaned. The violence was too reminiscent of what she’d lived through to ignore. Sick to her stomach, she fisted her hands against her belly, wishing it was over, but unable to tear her gaze away. When the maid dropped to the carpet, the same man followed with a vicious kick to her midsection that lifted her off the floor. “Oh, my God,” Nicole said. When blood began to pool beneath the maid’s head, she started to cry. As the clip played on, the four men split up in different directions. The camera caught one running down a long marble hallway, then disappearing into a room. Moments later, he reappeared, carrying a little girl, who Nicole assumed was Molly Dane. The child was wearing a pair of red pants and a white turtleneck sweater, and her hair was partially blocking her abductor’s face as he carried her down the hall. She was kicking and screaming in his arms, and when he slapped her, it elicited an agonized screech that brought the other three running. Nicole watched in horror as one of them ran up and put his hand over Molly’s face. Seconds later, she went limp. One moment they were in the foyer, then they were gone. Nicole jumped to her feet, then staggered drunkenly. The bowl of ice cream that had been in her lap fell at her feet, splattering glass and melting ice cream everywhere. 

The picture on the screen abruptly switched from the kidnapping to what Nicole assumed was a rerun of Lyla Dane’s plea for her daughter’s safe return, but she was too numb to really pay attention. Before she could think what to do next, the doorbell rang. Startled by the unexpected sound, she shakily swiped at her tears and took a step forward. She didn’t feel the glass shards piercing her feet until she took the second step. At that point, sharp pains shot through her foot. She gasped, then looked down in confusion. Her ice-cream-spattered legs looked as if she’d been running through mud, and she was standing in broken glass and melting mocha fudge, while a thin ribbon of blood seeped out from beneath her toes. “Oh, no,” she mumbled, then stifled a second moan of pain. The doorbell rang again. She shivered, then clutched her head in confusion. “Just a minute!” she yelled, trying to sidestep the rest of the debris as she limped to the door. When she looked through the peephole, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or regretful. It was Dominic, and, as usual, she was a mess...

~~~

Nicole Masters was feeling sorry for herself, but many would say she had a right to do so... She had been caught, by accident, being some place she wished she had not been and getting shot in the head for being there! How cruel fate was to have arrived at her pharmacy just when it was being robbed! Must we be forever caught in the midst of criminals, with guns, that have no concern for anybody but their own greed?!

She had resorted to treating her anger with her favorite--ice cream! Having each spoonful melt on her tongue, deliciously relaxing her mind to its wonderful diversion... At least until, a news item broke into her concentration. She stopped to listen, even stopping eating, as a clip inside the apartment of where a child was being kidnapped was shown...

Except there had been no clip of the actual event on the news... And, soon, Nicole was in the midst of a major crime--again! But, this time, she was watching as the kidnapping of a child actually took place! How?

And...Why?...

Molly Dane, daughter of a major screen star had been kidnapped! As Nicole watched, she began to feel a little ashamed of herself. After all, she was alive, and successfully recuperating a major surgery, while a young child had been taken by four men, one of them cruelly treating her as he pulled her out of her room, moving quickly to join the others and leave, after also hurting the housekeeper, who was now in the hospital... The maid had been slapped in the face hard enough to fall and then be kicked by her assailant until blood flowed around her...

Dominic Tucci lived right above her in an apartment where he had come to love Nicole greatly. Now, though, he was worried because she seemed to think that she was no longer worthy to be involved with him. Fortunately, he didn't agree and had come to visit her, only to disrupt her watching the news and her dropping her ice cream and then stepping on the glass as she tried to get to the door. He quickly picked her up and then found the first aid box to clean and wrap the latest bodily problem she was facing...

And while he was cleaning up the broken glass, they began talking about the kidnapping, until she began to talk about the four men who had taken her. Dominick stopped her--there had been no tape available and the video had not been part of the news program... Nicole knew what she had seen was real, however!

And she was willing to share everything she saw to help the police!

Could her head injury have resulted in some type of psychic ability developing? So she tried to see something more, but discovered it apparently didn't work that way... Until around noon, she could feel the same sounds that had been heard right before her first, apparent, vision. What would she see now?

The music playing on the stereo in the other room began to fade, and she felt the skin of her face tightening. It was happening again. She took a deep breath and leaned against the cabinet, waiting for the rush of wind. It came, and with it came another vision. One moment she was pouring soup into a pan, and the next she was watching a short, stocky man walking toward her. Thinking she was about to be attacked, it took her a few moments to realize that the man wasn’t coming toward her. In fact, he wasn’t even in her apartment. He was in the same room she’d seen before, and he was approaching Molly Dane. Somehow she was seeing through Molly’s eyes—seeing everything Molly was seeing. Then the man spoke. “Here, kid…you gotta eat. I brought you a Happy Meal. It’s got a toy in it and everything.” Nicole felt Molly’s despair as the man shoved the food in her hands. “Eat it!” he demanded. In what Nicole could only call an out-of-body experience, she and Molly took the food to a table. She saw the little girl’s hands trembling as she opened the small box and took out the plastic-wrapped toy. Without looking up, she set it aside. Someone in the other room called out, “Benny, come here!” Nicole saw Molly look up. The man, who Nicole now realized was one of the two men she’d seen at the kidnapping, glanced at Molly, then walked into the other room. As soon as he was gone, Molly ran to a window. It was boarded up, but she thrust her little fingers into a crack and pulled, trying to loosen the boards. Nicole winced as she saw the child lose her grip. When she pulled back, her fingers came away with splinters. Molly grimaced with pain but had the foresight not to cry out. Instead, she clenched her fists, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was still alone before peeking through the crack. Nicole felt Molly’s helplessness and despair. Nicole’s heart skipped a beat as Molly’s gaze went from the graffiti-sprayed wall of the building across the way to the street signs at the corner. “Oh, God…oh, God…look at them, baby. Look at the signs,” Nicole whispered. And Molly did. Her gaze went straight to the corner as if she’d heard Nicole’s long-distance plea. East 149th Street and Morris Avenue. Nicole read the names twice, locking them firmly in her mind as Molly suddenly spun and headed for the table. She was tearing into the paper around her hamburger when Benny came back into the room. Benny was staring at Molly for what seemed like a very long time. Then suddenly he shook his head and looked away. At that point Nicole panicked. The thought ran through her mind that they weren’t going to let Molly Dane go. Once the money was transferred, they were going to kill her. She had to tell Dominic and the detectives. And just like that, the vision was gone. She glanced at the clock. It was less than an hour before the transfer had to be made. If they didn’t find Molly before noon, it would be too late.

~~~~

Though less than 100 pages, this taut paranormal romantic suspense will keep you interested through each page that brings you closer and closer to the edge as you work along with the wonderful characters to bring a young girl back home! I admit that I was disappointed that it wasn't longer, wanting to learn more about how one criminal act is translated into the closeout of a different criminal act, involving a child... I enjoyed, especially, Dominick who work selflessly to help Nicole not only deal with her own misfortune but to let her completely know that she was his chosen, and nothing was going to break that bond... Highly recommended!

GABixlerReviews

Sunday, August 30, 2020

Earth Angel by Chris H. Stevenson


When I first saw the title, I immediately thought of an old song, Earth Angel. I found it interesting that the singer on the video I opened seemed to me to look like the main character, Daryl, who is known to look younger than she really is... You'll also see that there are two different beings on the cover and readers will find that a lot happens in the book even before they appear...

The cab pulled up and the driver rolled the window down. Daryl cornered the car and wondered why there was already a passenger in the back seat. She tilted down to talk to the driver but got a good look at the passenger. She flipped down a sun glass visor and recoiled in shock.
She saw a black-cloaked figure wearing a hood. The face was misshapen, gouged, wrinkled, and drawn tight like wet tissue over a lumpy gourd. It had one hand over its lap; the fingers looked like burnt twigs. She could not see inside the cloak, save for a neck that resembled that of a tortoise. A smell like rotten meat wafted from the inside of the car. 
Daryl stepped back, trying to reign in her shock and horror. She yelled, “Get the hell out here. We don’t need you anymore!”
 “What’s the matter? I told you I’m sorry, lady”
~~~


For instance, you'll read about a cab pulling up and the driver rolling the window down. Daryl cornered the car and wondered why there was already a passenger in the back seat. She tilted down to talk to the driver but got a good look at the passenger. She flipped down a sun glass visor and recoiled in shock. She saw a black-cloaked figure wearing a hood...  

By the time you learn about that death-like being that was found in the back of a cab that Daryl was about to enter, you will have read most of the book and moved forward slowly to actually see why this book is, well, strange, unique, and quite entertaining. And you also will have seen that cabbie in an accident that took his life... Of course, by that time, while Daryl had immediately predicted it and had been looking for verification...sadly, she was right again!

At first I thought this was a romance story...Two couples, one engaged; one married... And they had become close friends, so that, whenever something was happening, it was quite natural to share among the four. It was romantic as it related to the normal interactions; however, with the storyline of the book, tensions run high, quarrels occur...and the two female characters take off and leave both husbands to travel to Hawaii! So, enjoy the time with two women who refused to continually bow to the needs of their husbands! 

Dean, Daryl's fiance, was a cop and had just become involved with a serial killer who seemed unstoppable, providing no clues, leaving no forensics, and quickly killing their victim, then leaving: A young girl dead, and one tooth pulled as a souvenir... Dean wanted badly to be on that investigation team. Daryl, who worked for an institute for the deaf and mute, though, was about to gain a job that she never bargained for.

But that was before Dean and Daryl were both shot by someone who was trying to steal their car... Dean, thinking he would have everything under control, slowly pulled out his gun...Before anything could happen, the robber had shot through the window, hitting Dean badly and Daryl had a major loss of one of her eyes... Both would be grounded for weeks and months...

Yet that serial killer kept killing...10...11...

Daryl's eye loss had required a search for a donor. Shortly one was found from a young girl who had been in an accident. The operation went well; Daryl was adjusting to the eye as expected and the doctors were pleased.

Until she started realizing that the new eye caused a double image of some sort... Doctors found nothing to document this problem.

A whirlwind of action and adventure started as Daryl began to completely see through that new eye. Images of some type of beings were following individuals. A little research made her realize that Daryl was actually seeing these beings that resulted in death to those they followed... Even though Daryl tried to interfere, nothing seemed to work...until...

The writer brilliantly, ultimately, interfaces the two issues in Dean and Daryl's lives.  Jobo and Abbey are wonderful characters who merge easily into the situations, as needed, to complete a group that comes together to provide an unbelievable climax to the book that could not be foreseen! The creativity of the writer in waltzing through romance, science fiction, the paranormal, and religious supernatural power was especially noteworthy. The book is not a thriller where you can anticipate; rather, it is a mystery to be solved--a whodunit versus "Death Squad" concept that readers may have to stay with the early part in order to fully comprehend the magnitude of the potential of what could be if we allowed our senses open to the possibility. 

While I'd love to see a series, I'm not quite sure that what occurred could easily be continued. Either way, Earth Angel is an extraordinary "family" drama that is quite memorable... Highly recommended...


GABixlerReviews




PUBLISHING CREDITS:
BOOKS:
Auto Repair Shams and Scams (Forward--Ralph Nader), 1990, Price Stern & Sloan, Los Angeles--226 pages, non-fiction, consumer warning and repair book.
Garage Sale Mania, 1988, Betterway Publications, Crozet, Virginia--190 pages, non-fiction--1988.
Word Wars, a SF novel, to Rain Publishing, Canada--May, 2007.
Once Upon a Goddess, a Fantasy novel, to Rain Publishing, Canada--January, 2008
Planet Janitor--Custodian of the Stars, a SF novel sold to Engage Books, May 2009
Gate Walker, a Paranormal Fantasy, sold Lyrical Press--January, 2009.
The Wolfen Strain, a fantasy thriller sold to LBF (Lachesis) Books, February 2009
The War Gate, a Paranormal thriller, to Pen and Press, 10-12-2012
The Girl They Sold to the Moon, a YA dystopian sold to Intrigue Press, August 2013
Planet Janitor Omnibus with shorts added, Engage SF August 2017
Blackmailed Bride, Romantic thriller to Melange Books, Satin Romance, Feb 2017
Screamcatcher Web World, YA fantasy to Melange Fire & Ice
MAGAZINE--SHORT FICTION:
Stellar by Starlight, to Amazing Stories, 1988.
The Lonely Astronaut, to Amazing Stories, 1988.
Temperamental Circuits, to Gordon Linzner of Space & Time, 1989.
Things that go Clump in the Night, to Richard Fawcett of Doppelganger, 1989.
Dance the Macabre and Dance it Well, to Erskine Carter of Ouroborous, 1989.
Future School, to Chris Bartholomew of Static Movement, January 2006.
The Incredible Mr. Dandy, to Not One of Us--1989
Planet Janitor The Moon is not Enough, to Enage Books, 2012
Planet Janitor Journey Interrupted, to Engage Books 2012
Other magazine appearances from 1988 to 1991 include, Alpha Adventures, Small Press Writers and Artists Organization and Sycophant.

RADIO PLAYS:
The Summit, 15-minute horror play to Night Sounds, Embassy Cassette Inc, Santa Ana, California--1990
Night of the Moa, 13-minute horror play to Night Sounds, Embassy Cassette Inc, Santa Ana, California--1990.

AWARDS:
Finalist in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contest, for Temperamental Circuits, 1987.
First place, grand prize winner for The Girl They Sold to the Moon, a YA distopian novel, to a Publisher's Novel Writing Competition. Advance and publication offered--June 2012.

JOURNALISM AND MAGAZINE ARTICLES
350 newspaper profiles, stories, and interviews to Sunset Publishing, Anaheim, California, appearing in The West Coast Jewish News, The Senior Citizens Reporter and The Military Review. From 1988 to 1991. Seven automotive and home and garden articles articles to Dollar Stretcher Magazine, from 12-2-2011 to 2-28-2012. Eight science articles to Xiauduo Media, for Chinese translation( 8 -14 year-old audience)--Astronomy, new transportation technology, space, exoplanets, future spaced ship drives, big bang, theory and inflation.

CONTENT AND CLIENT
I have written and published over 1,750 non-fiction automotive, aircraft, marine, home and garden and science articles for Demand Media Studios, under the Beta-Automotive and E-How stations. Six automotive articles to Examiner.com--6-2012. Published. 440 automotive and general articles to TextBroker--plumbing, gardening, home improvement, home utilities, electricity--Content writing for a total of three years.

ORGANIZATIONS/POSITIONS:
Served as content editor of Sunset Publication (see above) for three years. Responsible for all writing assignments content editing, filler and artwork and payment.
President and founder of Heartland Writers Group, Huntington Beach, California, from 1987 to 1991.

AGENTS:
Past agent--Richard Curtis Associates, from 1988 to 1991.
Past agent--TriadaUS (Dr. Uwe Stender), from 2006 to August 2009
Present agent--Sara Camilli Agency--2010 to present.

CURRENT FINISHED BOOKS (AVAILABLE):
Iron Maiden, a military espionage thriller.
Valley of the Mastodons, a non-fiction book involving the Ice Age megafauna discoveries in Hemet, California, during the Diamond Valley reservoir dig. Proposal, chapter outline, and 100 pages available upon request
Dispossessed Incorporated, an urban ghost fantasy with time travel
The Omega Wars--SF, apocalyptic alien invasion (Sequel to PJ)
Screamcatcher, A YA portal fantasy out on agent sub round. Resembles the Narnia world. this includes Screamcatcher two and three. It is currently in discussion with a publisher.
Sky High, a YA fantasy in the vein of Wool
The Magic of the La Brea Tarpits--a non-fiction children's chap-book.

CURRENT NEWS: BLACKMAILED BRIDE, AN EROTIC ROMANTIC THRILLER HAS JUST BEEN RELEASED. CATCH IT ON MY AMAZON PAGE. IT'S ONLY 4.99



Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Wonderful Fantasy Ghost/Time Travel Mystery by Casi McLean




At the base of the Chestatee River, North Georgia, May 24, 1865 
Isabelle O’Neal wiggled her toes in the squishy mud. A cool trickle seeped through, soothing her swollen feet. She loved sitting by the water’s edge, watching the ebb and flow sparkle reflected sunbeams across the river. But today necessity took precedence over pleasure. Her very life hung in the balance. She squeezed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath filled with the scent of spring flowers drifting on the breeze. Holding the air a moment before slowly releasing, she centered her thoughts. In the distance, pounding hooves tromped across firm Georgia clay, breaking through the mid-morning silence. Stiffening at the approaching danger, she pressed splayed fingers against the ground to gauge the threat. She listened, attentive to their pace and direction. The hoof beats were closing in despite her evasive tactics. Shadowing the creek to confuse her pursuers averted capture, but only briefly. She had little time for pampering wounds or resting tired legs. She must forge ahead with haste. Scooping cool water over her feet, Izzy rinsed away soft sludge comforting the blisters that burned and bit at her toes. She blotted the dampness then winced in pain. Thankful she borrowed more suitable apparel from a random clothesline and abandoned her crinolines when she took to the road, she hastily ripped her undergarment into strips and wrapped the tender injuries...
A soft crunch rustled behind her, and a hand slid over her mouth and nose. Izzy had no time to counter. She screamed––but no sound escaped the suffocating grip. No plea for help. No air. Squirming and yanking, she struggled, desperate to free herself, but to no avail. Trapped body to body, she fought for air, unable to see her assailant. The odor of sweat laced with tobacco and spirits heaved her stomach, causing the whirling in her head to spin faster and deeper, until the sunlight narrowed into tiny stars against a midnight sky––then faded into darkness. 
**** 

Lake Lanier GA, May 24, 2018  (Abingdon Manor)
Gazing across the lush, green forest edging his property, Attaway York stood on his front porch. Twilight dusted the evening sky, fireflies awakened, twinkling like tiny stars to light their flight through the darkening woodland. He relished the sounds, from crickets chirping and birds warbling to animals rustling through the forest. The unfamiliar whispers of nature he’d missed as a child. Though this solitude suited him, he dreamed of more.
For two years he’d labored on this land, restored the old abandoned estate to the splendor Abingdon Manor once held. But a burning desire to fill his home with children’s laughter and the love of a good woman weren’t likely to occur in such an isolated existence. He glanced downward at Prince’s slightly cocked head, the deep bronze eyes staring back as if the dog understood his mood. “Not totally alone, am I, boy?” York squatted and scratched the chocolate lab’s neck. “I have you…and friends, too.” 
Prince woofed, his tail wagging, and he nudged at his master.
“Ready for our walk?” York treaded down the porch steps with an unleashed Prince pacing beside him step by step. He enjoyed his evening walks with his dog. The treks provided a time for reflection and to ponder for new tomorrows. Tonight, he headed toward his favorite jaunt...
Through darkness, his gaze followed a pale blue haze, swishing through the brushwood toward the beach. A soft glow sparkled like an energized cloud. “Rrrrrrrr.” Prince warned again. 
“Hush, boy,” York whispered, inching toward the haze, Prince at his side. But the mist dimmed as they approached. Within the cloud, York could see a blurred image of a young woman. “Wait.” He paused and reached his hand toward the shimmer. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You see me?” Her hollow voice stuttered and she jerked as if taken aback. “Yes. Of course. Do you need help?” He stared at her translucent image, edging closer, confused, but not fearful. The young woman was little more than a child. Dressed in a long, tattered white shirt and little else, she wore her hair in a fat golden brown braid that fell over her left shoulder. 
“I’ve seen you here before, watched you and your dog.” 
“Yes. We enjoy walking along the beach.” He smiled and glanced at his pet. “Say hello, boy. We have a new friend.” He looked toward the woman again. “This is Prince. And I am York. Who are you?”
The young girl shivered. “Izzy,” she muttered. “I mean Isabelle. Isabelle O’Neal.”
~~~

Between the Shadows:
Lake Lanier Mysteries


Lake Laneir

By Casi McLean



It was 1845, and Isabelle was home alone at the family estate where only she and her brother remained. The Civil War was over but there was still danger from soldiers and others who were traveling home or to find a new location to work...maybe even to find some of the riches they felt they were due...

Izzy heard the many travelers heading her way and knew she could only be safe if she ran, but they had heard her as well and started the chase. She had no choice but to run, in the water as much as possible to hide her path. What happened to her that day was now part of history...or was it?



For in the year, 2018, Attaway York was also in those same woods where Izzy was running for her life... And he saw her...

Izzy had been out walking, caught in a place where she could not escape. Each time she walked around, she was soon back in a small hidden place that she was unable to leave. York and his dog Prince watched her, for she seemed to need help, her clothes were old and torn and she seemed somehow, translucent. But York's only thought was to help her and moved closer, introducing himself and Prince. Izzy seemed surprised that he could see her... and though she was afraid, she also moved closer, reaching out her arm to touch him lightly.

A soft glow sizzled around her like a protective sheath, but the moment they touched, the radiance eclipsed and Isabelle stood before him.

Very Cool, right?! I was totally hooked by that time, and still enjoying the beautiful scene, where York, who was looking for someone to share his newly restored home, was suddenly seeing a lovely young lady appear before him! OK, she happened to be dead, but that didn't stop the relationship developing! Loving it, with the feeling of "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir..."



The Tesseract, Tess for short––named in 

honor of Drew’s favorite childhood story, 
A Wrinkle In Time––was an
 artificial intelligence with
 the capability of wrinkling 
time to connect past to future.
~~~
And just think! The adventure has barely begun! For now readers get to meet Tess...

So before you begin to wonder who Tess is, like I did, we soon find that she is the time machine built by the matriarch of the family who is now near death. Kenzi and her father are using the time machine, when required. And this is the time! Their friend York has talked with Izzy and has figured out that the only way to free her from where she has been imprisoned since her death, is to try to free her in her own time!

Let it begin! Using all the modern technology of today's world, they are able to figure out exactly where they should travel to. York and Kenzi are soon in 1845...and the soldiers who chased Izzy are still there. Soon one has captured Kenzi and took the horse they had found at the home and rode off with her. In the meantime, Izzy's brother returns home, finds York--and Izzy gone. The hunt begins and readers  follow each of the three as they deal with danger from the soldiers, stolen gold, finding the location where Izzy might have been taken--all in time to hopefully save Izzy from what happened to her! With romance as well!

This was my first time reading McLean, but she provides the type of paranormal, mystical, spooky tale I enjoy. The series doesn't seem to keep the same characters from book to book, but rather the mystic lake atmosphere. I enjoyed it enough that I went out to pick up the first book as well.

So, what we have is paranormal events that move characters in time, and Tess allowed other characters to travel there and hopefully help, without changing history... At the same time, we meet a wonderful set of characters with "first-love" tendencies which magically add to the final climax of the tale, which both didn't and did surprise me...Very cool and a lovely conclusion for everybody. Even the story of Kenzi's grandparents was a love story in itself... I loved the whole tale and happily escaped from reality for hours! If my words sound interesting to you, I highly recommend you check out Casi McLean. Her creative imagination, her detail to fine points of her story as well as continuity and use of seeming coincident was a joy in itself. Well worth finding her as a new author to follow!


GABixlerReviews










Award winning author, Casi McLean, pens novels to stir the soul with romance, suspense, and a sprinkle of magic. Her writing crosses genres from ethereal, captivating shorts with eerie twist endings to believable time slips, mystical plots, and sensual romantic suspense.

Known for enchanting stories with magical description, McLean entices readers with fascinating hooks to hold them captive in storylines they can't put down. Her romance entwines strong, believable heroines with delicious, hot heroes to tempt the deepest desires, then fans the flames, sweeping readers into their innermost romantic fantasies.

With suspenseful settings and lovable characters you'll devour, you'll see, hear, and feel the magical eeriness of one fateful night. You'll swear time travel could happen, be mystified by other worldly images, and feel the heat of romantic suspense, but most of all you'll want more.

Casi's latest series enters the realm of political thrillers with Reign Of Fire, exclusively found in the #1 bestselling, romantic suspense boxset, Love Under Fire.  

Her three-book, time slip, romantic suspense, Lake Lanier Mysteries, hit the stands running with book #1, Beneath The Lake, winner of the 2016 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for BEST Romantic Suspense. Watch the trailer on this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvf0IC4ndBw

Beyond The Mist, book #2 in her romantic time slip treasure chest, is a stunning tribute to the victims and first responders of the 911 World Trade Center terrorist attack. Here is the trailer link: https://youtu.be/Bj6ySTh_7xI

Between The Shadows brings the saga full circle with an amazing time slip to 1865 and a search for the Confederate gold. 


Uniquely qualified to write self-help and inspiration, Casi tops the scale with her powerful memoir, Wingless Butterfly: Healing The Broken Child Within, sharing an inspirational message of courage, tenacity, and hope, displaying her unique ability to excel in nonfiction and self-help as well as fiction.

Discover the magic, with Casi McLean books: http://CasiMclean.com

Saturday, June 2, 2018

Travel with Karen Chalfant in Novel, Deep In Time...



Since I first watched the early movies of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, one of my favorite types of book is the merge of the paranormal within a romantic story. Deep in Time is such a delight and I thoroughly enjoyed it!

But this is not a ghost story!  It is time travel with a most extraordinary method of travel!


Rebecca pulled her rented yellow Volkswagen off the gravel road at 9:00 a.m. the next morning, pulled up the rod-iron ornate gate and stopped. Leaving the engine running she searched through her purse, found the needed key and got out of the car.
The gate was long, covering a span of twenty feet. She slipped the key in the lock, it popped open and she moved the chain.
She swung one side of the gate open, got back in the car and pulled in, leaving the gate open for Alex, who she expected shortly...
Whispering Grove, her family's large plantation home, soon came into view and she pulled up under her favorite oak, parked and got out...Even though she'd known this house since she was born, it never ceased to leave her in awe. Its sparkling white pain  with blue trim, six large pillars, numerous windows, patio doors and its wide veranda, with white wicker chairs, that wrapped around the whole give giving it an air of welcome that most couldn't resist. It had been well cared for and its design and structure had been well thought out... 
Her aunt was expecting her and had in fact seen her pull up. Her bedroom was on the second floor at the front of the house but when she knew her niece was coming she had the nurse and servants help her to the front parlor, where a comfortable lounge chair awaited her. Rebecca knew these were the moments her aunt lived for these days, waiting for her or Alex, or both. So, she always tried to arrive prepared with stories from the city and her Haunted Tours to share, as well as a new book or something she'd find amusing to help pass the time...
"What did you bring me today?"
"A book. I got it from a new book shop. It's a mystery."
"Good. I love a good mystery." 
"I have something for you too" She
"No one to my
knowledge
has worn it."
~~~
reached over to the antique end table, grabbed a black satin box and handed it to Rebecca. Rebecca flipped the lid open and pulled out a gold chain, its links thicker than she usually saw, upon which an unusual oval shaped go charm hung. Not slid in form, it had almost a spidery look with a small ruby sitting in the middle. It reminded Rebecca of a tear drop.
"Aunt Emma, this is so beautiful, so unusual. Where on earth did you get it?"
"It's been in the family for years. No one knows where it came from. It's just been passed down through the generations and then put away and almost forgotten about. 
Rebecca slipped the gold chain over her head and the ruby came to rest between her breasts--suddenly sending a tingly feeling throughout her body, almost akin to a shock. Then it was gone. Not knowing what to think of such an oddity she passed it off and smiled at her aunt--who seemed not to have noticed.
"Well, someone will be wearing it now. I love it. Thank you, Aunt Emma."
~~~


Deep in Time

By Karen Chalfant

Rebecca Brousseau had been living with her Aunt Emma every since her parents had died, together. Years later, now, Aunt Emma was moving toward the end of her life and Rebecca visited as often as she could. Rebecca, a haunted house tour guide worked odd and late hours, but took care to keep her Aunt in books and other special things each time she visited. But this time, her Aunt had a present for her as well, a beautiful antique necklace that apparently had been in the family for years, but for whatever reason, had never been worn by any family member...

Rebecca's lover and her Aunt's lawyer, Alex, had made all arrangements for Aunt Emily's entire estate to go to Rebecca. But when Rebecca lost her too soon, she wasn't worried about what she had inherited... So, when she finally felt she was able to deal with the legal aspects, she was surprised to learn that not only had she entertained the entire plantation, but also a local tavern, one Rebecca had never known was owned by her family...

Adjusting to her new responsibilities could take time, but, after moving into her Aunt's home, she also started going in to meet with the present manager, who she asked to stay on, and to get to know the business. She had never owned any property and felt a great responsibility... That feeling of responsibility was not welcomed by the man who had controlled all aspects of the Tavern for many years...

Before finishing her tour guide position, Rebecca was working one night, only to have a man, apparently dressed in costume, join the group. He introduced himself as Maddox and instead of watching the places they were touring, he kept his eyes on Rebecca...and the necklace she wore...

Not thinking too much about him, except from a personal point of her attraction to him, she was shocked, upon beginning to review what was in the attic of her new home, to find a picture of...the...man who she had just met on her last tour! The painting was dated a century ago...

Can a spell cast many years ago bring together true lovers? Readers will enjoy watching it happen! And also watch Rebecca as she takes on many new responsibilities and then... disappears... I must admit I had a few questions at the end--would I give up my life for what may be true love? Would you?

This is a fast read which flows smoothly from one calamity to another while we watch a young woman move into an entirely new, independent life that offers so very much...Wealth and riches or love... Karen Chalfant takes us Deep in Time to tell us this intriguing and enjoyable tale. Highly recommended.


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Love God, Live Life, And Write It All Down...

Sunday, February 4, 2018

Undying Love A Secrets of Roseville Novel by Betty Bolte'


Meredith Reed stared at the plantation home she’d inherited from a grandmother she hadn’t seen in years. A pair of ancient live oaks, the inspiration for the Twin Oaks name, guarded either side of the sprawling two-story brick dwelling, providing shade and funneling cool air through the house. Sunlight filtered through the Spanish moss draped on the massive limbs. Meredith raised one hand to shield the glare as she scanned the façade. The
architect in her appreciated the symmetry of the Greek Revival style as well as the quality workmanship of the brickwork. “It really hasn’t changed. Not much.” She studied the once-elegant antebellum house, its wide front steps missing a brick here and there, its six elaborate Corinthian columns and intricately carved woodwork surrounding the double doors. The property description listed ten bedrooms, four bathrooms dating from the early twentieth century, a gourmet kitchen, two parlors, an upstairs ballroom, and several outbuildings. 
“It’s a real treasure.” The estate lawyer, Max Chandler, who had driven her out to the four-hundred-acre property, had barely spoken during the entire trip except to relay pertinent details of the surprise inheritance, including the fact she had also inherited her grandmother’s sizable and diversified investment account. She’d have preferred to drive her own car, especially since he drove one of those redneck pickup trucks. Sitting in a vehicle with an attractive man set her teeth on edge. Worrying about what might happen tensed every muscle in her body. He also didn’t need to know how edgy being with him made her, as if her skin burned the closer he drew. But he’d insisted until she ungraciously relented. She picked her fights, and that one wasn’t worth the effort. 
The rolling Tennessee countryside had flowed past the window, immense fields dotted with horses and cows. Green shoots poked through the tilled earth in rows, reaching for the early spring sunshine. She’d noticed her surroundings automatically, but none of the hauntingly familiar sights held her interest. Once she no longer sat in the unfamiliar truck, her tense muscles eased, and she drew a deep breath as she studied the building. Why on earth had her grandmother, whom she hadn't seen in nearly ten years, chosen her to receive the grandiose house that stood for everything she would never have? The family she could never have? Pain combined with a deep-seated longing blossomed in her chest. Three front steps led up to a brick porch with its immense white columns announcing to passersby that the building was more than a house. Unlike the small, boxy ranchers and nondescript houses they’d passed on the drive to the plantation, this structure cried out for a large family. Her parents had often carried her and her sister Paulette from Memphis to visit Grandma when she was a child. Back when love and laughter echoed through the many rooms. 
A great blue heron fished in the two-acre lake in front of the house, where they had once splashed and played. The huge yard, graced with several shade trees—
the site of barbecues and softball games, with the extended family arguing over who potentially cheated or whooping with glee when a good shot was made—now stood silent, accusing her of neglect and indifference. So be it. She stiffened her spine. She would not wallow in self-pity nor give in to the temptation to hug her arms around her waist and cry. She squinted at the glare from the windows nestled into the brick walls, noting the ivy climbing up one front corner. Willy would want her to move on, build a new life, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Even after a year, the grief and anger stewed in her brain, sizzled in her veins, and throbbed in her heart. “Shall we go inside?” Max leaned his tall frame against the hood of the green F-150 pickup, arms folded, his curiosity evident in his expression. The color of his eyes as he waited for her response reminded her of the crystal blue of glacier ice, and that thought evoked the bittersweet memory of her and Willy on their honeymoon trip to Alaska. The glorious clear sky that day had created a perfect backdrop to the pod of whales they watched blowing. She heard again the cry of eagles as they soared majestically above the surrounding mountains. The trip of her life with the love of her life. Back when they had their entire lives stretching before them, full of promise and hope. The weight of her wedding band drew her attention for a moment. She refused to remove it and lose the last connection she had with her husband. 
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking the spell of Max’s intent gaze. She fished the contraption out and glanced at the screen before answering. “Hey Buddy, what’s up?” 
“Just letting you know the Murphy job is put to bed.” Her boss’s brusque, businesslike voice helped her focus, steady her breathing. 
“That’s good news. I left it ready to close out.” Buddy coughed and cleared his throat. “I only had to smooth out the final walk-through.” A chill spread through her at his words and the tone of his voice. 
“What do you mean? It was all set up and ready to rock and roll.” 
“Don’t worry about it. I took care of it.” 
She bet. Like he always did. With the end result a mess she had to sort back out again.” 
A flash of blue in an upstairs window drew her attention, and she peered at the pane. Blinked away the lingering image. An illusion. A pair of turkey buzzards spiraling high above reflected off the window, wings outstretched so that the tips of their feathers stood out against the sky. Bringing home memories of how she used to pretend to be dead to lure them in, and then jump up and scatter them on the breeze. Memories she couldn’t afford to resurrect. 
Her stay in the rural community of Magnolia Grove, Tennessee, would last no more than a month, maybe two, tops. She could survive that long. “Fine. I’ll follow up with her when I get back to Maryland.” Meredith ended the call and slipped her phone back into her pocket as Max pushed off from his spot near the front of the truck. 
“What is it you do again?” Max aimed mirrored sunglasses in her direction. “I’m an architect.” She slid her purse strap more securely onto her shoulder. She snatched the manila folder off the hood of the vehicle, a file Max had handed to her at his office. Inside were copies of the legal papers he’d reviewed with her across his massive mahogany desk. “Why?” 
“Your grandmother said you were the perfect heir for this property.” He let his gaze drift away from her to scan the hundreds of acres of fields and trees, across the lake, and on to the various outbuildings surrounding the plantation house. A circle of trees nearly hid the old gazebo from view, but they couldn’t stop the surge of memories of afternoons spent with her sister playing under its roof. Glimpses of white painted boards and black wrought-iron trim appeared through the dense branches and limbs sprouting with new growth. Meredith dropped her attention to the folder, severing the thread of the past, and turned a page without reading it. 
Why did Max care what she did? She slanted a questioning glance his way. “I enjoy designing beautiful yet useful buildings.” 
“Listen, I hate to rush this,” Max said, his words clipped, “but I have a client to meet in an hour. Let me show you around.” He indicated for her to lead up the steps. Bristling at his tone, Meredith pinned him with a stare. 
“Look, you don’t need to. It’s been a while, true, but I have been here before. I know the layout. We can go.” Then she wouldn’t have to go inside and relive the happy, carefree days of her childhood through the weary eyes of an adult while Max watched. 
He shook his head, his dark chocolate hair touched with gray sweeping his collar, watching her. “Things have changed. You may be surprised by what you find inside.” He tapped a hand against one thigh and cocked his head to gaze at her for a long moment. “Either way, you should take stock of what you’ve inherited.” He didn’t appear much like a lawyer, truth be told. Didn’t lawyers wear prescription glasses and look nerdy? Not that she believed in stereotypes, but all that studying must make their eyes weak. Max was the other end of the spectrum. Perhaps her grandmother had a need for eye candy when she chose him as her estate planner. He was delicious to contemplate, that’s for sure. Probably a couple inches taller than a cornstalk with a soccer player’s physique, Max could double for a cover model. She appreciated his classic good looks, straight nose, and strong jaw. Dressed in khakis and a deep red polo shirt, he seemed more ready for a round of golf than a client meeting. He represented the unattainable type of man for her. The kind embodying something too smart, too handsome, too much for her taste. Even if she were in the market for a man, which she was not. None of that mattered since she would be staying in the area for a short while. 
Despite her hard shell of indifference to the opposite sex, she couldn’t help a moment of succumbing to the temptation of drinking her fill of his appearance. But only for an instant. If she let her guard down, her personal destruction would soon follow. “I don’t want to keep you, is all.” Meredith waved a hand at the vehicle. “I’m a big girl. Take me to my car. I’ll come back on my own.” “Actually, your grandmother made it clear she wanted me to show you around when you claimed the place,” he replied. “She wanted to be sure you appreciate the extent of the inheritance and had an opportunity to see how much work is needed to put it to rights. So, if you’ll follow me?” 
He nipped up the steps, obviously expecting her to concede the point. 
“And Grandma always gets her way.” With a sigh, Meredith shadowed him through the white double doors into the chilly front hall. She stopped inside the doorway to look around. The sickly smell of mildew hit her senses like a wrecking ball, bringing tears that smarted the corners of her eyes. Crossing the threshold was like stepping back in time to another era. “It’s exactly like I remember. Well, except for the smell.” 
Max nodded. “Mrs. O’Connell prided herself on ensuring any necessary repairs matched the original decor and architecture. But as time went on, she wasn’t able to keep up with the issues of an old, historic home. A few repairs will be necessary. Your talents, skills, and expertise are why she left Twin Oaks to you instead of your father. You know, so you can ensure the repairs are appropriate to its original grandeur.” 
Dark wood floors reached throughout the plantation house. The stairs rose slowly from the left, boasting dark wood treads with white painted fronts, up to a wraparound loft. A cherry table sheltered against the wall beneath the stairs, showcasing a dainty crystal lamp centered on a lace doily. She smiled, spying the small door standing invitingly ajar, leading to the games closet tucked under the stairs. A colorful rug invited guests to cross the space toward the ladies parlor on the right or the double parlor on the left. In days gone by, the gentlemen would have adjourned to the larger retreat after dinner to smoke and drink. Farther down the hall leading from the foyer, light spilled onto the wood floors from the windows in the back rooms. A chill settled on her shoulders. The back room on the right had been her grandmother’s sewing room—her favorite spot in the entire house—and the room in which she’d died, according to Max. 
Meredith shook off the thought and focused instead on the condition of the house. She moseyed into the parlor, noting the dusty, cobwebby, overstuffed chairs and dark wood furniture. Faded and peeling, the rose-patterned wallpaper competed with the brocade drapes for attention. Above the rose marble fireplace, she spotted the relief carving of the Irish Claddagh: two hands reaching toward
the center where a heart wore a royal crown. Her grandmother loved to tell stories about the Claddagh, representing bonds of love, friendship, and loyalty. She inhaled, smelling dust and cold ashes from the fireplace mingled briefly with a faint yet familiar scent she couldn’t place. She mentally shook her head. No matter. Scanning the room, Meredith let her gaze touch each piece of antique furniture, each grimy object d’art, each vase of tired silk flowers. The dismal scene before her contrasted sharply with how everything once shone with loving attention. She had started debating selling the property before she even packed her suitcase...
~~~

Undying love:
Secrets of Roseville

By Betty Bolte'



If her inheritance from her grandmother had come several years ago, she would have welcomed it as a new home for her family. But last year, in a horrible assault, a thief had murdered her husband. That was bad enough, but Meredith Reed had been pregnant and also been shot. She lived, but the baby was also murdered. Nothing had been able to allow Meredith to forget what she had lost and seeing what could have once been a place in which she would continue the family heritage was nothing more than a reminder of how many flashbacks still continued to haunt her...

The thing was that her grandmother had picked her out for the inheritance for a reason. Meredith was an architect and had won many awards on her work. Her grandmother anticipated that with the entire inheritance, including funds, that Meredith would work to bring their family home back to its original grandeur.

Family drama soon erupted, though, when Meredith's first decision was for herself--she wanted to build a memorial park to honor her lost family as well as all of her ancestors...and others... With Meredith being the younger child, her sister as well as her parents felt they had a right to try to stop her... The thing was that Meredith's plans included destroying their family home and turning the land back to natural use...

At first, I was concerned about the two main characters in particular. Meredith comes off as very selfish, yet as the story moves forward, she begins to open up to both the pain of her past as well as to being home once again, and with her family from whom she had pulled away from over the years...

The one character that also confuses us is Max, who is the estate lawyer. He was adamant that Meredith follow her grandmother's wishes and fulfill her duty! Not something Meredith was willing to even listen to at that time in her life. We do get to know more of Max's personal feelings and find that he has loved the property since he first saw it...and only wished that he had sufficient funds to have the ability to own such a home for his future... Of course, he also needed to find that wife to share that home. As is common, the two main characters do find themselves attracted to the other. But are arguing over much as the story proceeds.

The one thing that was able to pull Meredith into the present situation was that, first, she had seen a woman looking out from the second floor on the day she had arrived. Then as she started to clear things out, pending what she would do with the house, she found many books, letters and journals from her ancestors... When she arrived at the point where a family member had disappeared, she was hook into the intrigue and mystery of what had happened to her!

And when she realized that the missing woman had begun to be called the Lady in Blue, and it had been probably her at the window, Meredith wanted to know more, especially when she began to smell a scent--flowery, and nobody else seemed to be able to smell it, Meredith became convinced that she was being haunted...

Blending the historical past with its secrets is often an engaging read as we both go back into the beginning of the story hundreds of years ago, while at the same time, living in the present, trying to respond to today's issues within the historical background. There were hints throughout the book, but, for me, none of them stuck...so I was totally surprised with the conclusion of the Lady's secrets...

I was watching Meredith closely because everybody other than her thought it was crazy to raze the family home. Still with a tragic family loss recently that devastated the whole family, I could see and understand why Meredith could not--was not able to--deal with what everybody was expecting and pushing for her to do... It is a lesson that we must learn for ourselves, but which requires sympathy as well as empathy for those involved.

This multi-genre paranormal, historical, romance, mystery will pull you into the story after the first chapter or two. Max and Meredith are two independent, opinionated, and aggressive people who find a match in meeting each other. If you allow them to be themselves, with their own fears and desires, you'll be soon watching as the family drama, which includes, by the way, a wonderful couple who has helped on the estate for many years, pulls each character into merging, once again, as a loving family. Highly recommended.


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Betty Bolté writes both historical and contemporary stories featuring strong, loving women and brave, compassionate men. No matter whether the stories are set in the past or the present, she loves to include a touch of the paranormal. In addition to her romantic fiction, she’s the author of several nonfiction books and earned a Master’s in English in 2008. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Historical Novel Society, the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, and the Authors Guild. Get to know her at www.bettybolte.com.



Second in Series