Monday, November 9, 2015

Coming Soon, WEP Challenge.

WEP stands for Write...Edit...Publish. A flash fiction blog hop created by Denise Covey and supported by Yolanda Renee. All writers, all genre's can participate. I can attest that this is one fine method to increase productivity and fine tune your writing skills.

Here is the December 2015 challenge and link to sigh up. I hope to see you on the list.

Sign up link. Scroll down on the WEP web site. Nancy

December 16 - HOLIDAY CELEBRATIONS that are out of this world!

For this challenge, our final for 2015, you will be asked to share your ideas for a holiday that is out of this world, literally. Take us to a new planet, universe, or simply change the one you're on.
Since December is the month of celebration, the Winter Solstice, Christmas, Chanukah, Boxing Day, Kwanzaa, New Year's Eve and many more. We want you to take us out of this world. Take a trip to a new planet but use your experiences, memories, or just your imagination to write a holiday celebration that is unique to you and this new or drastically changed location.

Write a story, a paragraph, a poem, show us some artwork, a screenplay or take a photograph. The night sky is always 'out of this world' – okay, sorry for the pun, but have fun!

Remember, anything is possible! You can make it happen!

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Insecure Writers Support Group November Already

Greetings. It's the first Wednesday of November 2015 and time to post for IWSG. Brain-child of Alex J. Cavanaugh and what a child she has become.

Are you insecure? Perhaps about finishing NaNoWriMo. I have never participated in NaNoWriMo. The thought of completing a novel in a month makes me nervous, plus, my health isn't good. I get tired easily and if I don't pace myself I can become so exhausted that I don't get anything done for a week at a time. Please don't fill sorry for me. I tend to ignore it since I want to stay positive.

I am feeling proud. Last month I published the first in a series of Halloween based flash fiction stories. I also participated in two Halloween flash fiction hops. The stories are below in case you're interested. And...most importantly, I submitted a short story to the IWSG Anthology. This last was very involved. First I had a brain-storming session with some local writers. Then I submitted what I'd done to my online critique group. Three weeks later I took their recommendations and finished the story. Last week I probably tweaked the story ten times. On Halloween, I submitted the story which was due the next day, Nov. 1, 2015.

Now that all that is done, it's time to start the edits on the sequel to The Treasures of Carmelidrium, titled, The Rise of Lord Sinon. This is long overdue and also related to my health.

What are you up too? Are you participating in NaNoWriMo? Did you submit a story to the IWSF Anthology?


Click here to visit other IWSG post.

Scroll down to read my scary stories.

Saturday, October 31, 2015

Share a Scare, Halloween bloghop, The Shepherd and Trick or Treat bloghop

This blog hop  is the child of Wittengen Press in England. Their stated objective is; For bloggers, authors and artists who like a good spine-tingling supernatural something and is in honor of all things Halloween. Inspired by All Hallows Read, where the idea is to give away a scary book to encourage reading. To see other post in this blog hop go here

Now for my story plus give-a-ways at the end.

The Shepherd

Stewart took his sack lunch and walked outside along the paved pathway before The Museum of Natural History’s building. Midway toward the parking lot, he sat on a bench to eat and admire the view. A breeze rustled the yellow and red leaves of autumn. Golden, red and white mums decorated the path and gave off a heady scent. In his bag, Stewart had packed a tuna sandwich and had ruffled chips and a red delicious apple along with a thermos of coffee. The flavors of salt and sweet combined in his mouth enhanced by crunch, and the smooth texture of his sandwich. He sighed, happy.

            For two years, he’d applied to the museum and now he had a job labeling artifacts. For some mysterious reason, this particular job became available every couple of months. Stewart wasn’t concerned. He was an expert at letting confrontation slip off his back, no doubt the others he’d replaced were too sensitive and had left.

            Opposite him along the path was a massive statue of a shepherd carved from obsidian stone in a sitting position. Its head was bent and the hood concealed its features. He held a shepherd’s staff in one hand. Beneath the black robe were his sandaled feet and beside him in obsidian was a lamb. For some reason, the flowers around the statue were dug up and scattered. A prankster.

            A crowd of people approached headed for the museum. Every one of them paused just before they got to the portion of the pathway that would lead them between Stewart and the shepherd and without exception, they turned into the park, walked around Stewart’s bench and rejoined the path further on. Now, that was weird, Stewart watched them bemused.

He finished eating and returned to work. On his way to the artifact room an old lady with a cozy white sweater over her blue dress came near. “Never leave the building after ten and walk that path,” she said.

Stewart stopped. “Excuse me?”

“I saw you eating in front of that thing. Watch yourself, it comes alive after ten.” She continued on.

Stewart turned and waited until she’d rounded the corner and then muttered, “Batty.”

In the weeks that followed, he became enthralled by a new set of dinosaur bones. As night encroached Stewart barely noticed. When he finally looked up from his work he realized it was after midnight. Time to leave. Snow was forecast so Stewart grabbed his winter coat and buttoned it as he walked. By the time he reached the door, he’d wrapped a red scarf around his neck and had his black leather gloves on. He lift his briefcase from under his arm and held the handle.

A blast of frigid air took his breath when he opened the door. He bent his head against the wind. Snow crunched beneath his feet as he walked the path. He could only hope his car would start. He’d brought the old Ford with him from Florida and didn’t know the first thing about winterizing it. He’d almost reached the place where the shepherd statue was when he noticed enormous footprints crossing the path toward the park. Odd, Stewart kept going and then…he was at the park bench. Snow cover it and clumps had piled at its feet. The statue was gone. Gone!

Someone must have stolen it. But if so, why did the snow only show giant footsteps? Stewart knew the statue was too heavy for a man to lift, they’d need machinery, but no evidence of machinery was visible. No tire marks, no chains, nothing.

Then he heard a deep rumble. “You!”

Startled, Stewart felt his heart thump against his ribs. When he turned to look toward the park he saw a massive shadow nearly as tall as the tree. It moved into the street light. The shepherd. It was alive!

“Ohhhh---” Stewart dropped his briefcase and ran. Snow crunched beneath heavy footfalls behind him. His breath rasped from his exertion. He looked behind and saw the shepherd gaining on him. Would he reach his car? Ice met his steps and he slipped, landing hard on his back. The shadow of the shepherd covered him. A massive hand reached down, grabbed Stewart’s coat and yanked him up into the air. He screamed, and the wind howled, taking his breath.


The museum curator, Frank Morris shook his head. Officer Lindy folded his arms. “We found Stewart Grimm hanging from the limb of the tree across from that statue. His heart, kidneys and liver on the ground.”

            “What a shame,” Morris said.

            “How many does this make?” Lindy asked.

            “Twelve, thirteen, I’ve lost count.” Morris formed a steeple with his fingers.

             “You said you’d warn them.”

            “I have. Trust me. They don’t believe.”

            “Perhaps you should hire a local fool.” Officer Lindy put his pocket notebook away.

            “No one will take the job.” Morris pushed away from his desk and stood. “We must move the statue.”

            “How? That will only bring death to the trucker who is hauling it away.”

            Morris tapped his finger against his pant leg. The solution eluded him.

            “I’ll notify the mayor,” Office Lindy said and turned to leave. “He won’t be happy.”

            The mayor had warned Morris the last time. The city intended to close the museum. Sitting again, Morris pulled out his laptop and began searching for a new job.

Word Count 902

Have you ever seen a creepy statue?


As part of the Trick or Treat blog hop, I'm giving away a copy of each one of my e-books books on Amazon. The link and a brief description can be found beneath each one. 

Halloween Collection 1. Faerie mischief starts the fun with ghosts, vampires, and zombies bringing in the scare. If you love Halloween, being scared or delighted, there’s a story for you in this flash fiction collection.
Unfortunately, Amazon won't let me offer this for free. It is part of KDP select however if you're a member or in the lending library. Other wise it's 99 cents. All the other books are free today only. To order go here

The Treasure of Carmelidrium is an epic new adult fantasy. Here's the blurb: Missie, an American flutist, is thrust through a portal into a medieval world where her music is the key to empowering The Treasures of Carmelidrium to defeat the evil tyrant, Renwyk, Lord of the Symberveen. Immediately, her life is in danger. The Symberveen hunt her, an assassin attempts to kill her, Renwyk's men plot to kidnap her. Will she survive to fulfill the prophecy regarding her arrival or will Renwyk take over Gil-Lael and then America too?  I'm in the process of final edits on the sequel, The Rise of Lord Sinon. 

To order go here

The Magic of Windlier Woods is a children's bed time story I invented when my own children were small. Although I never intended to continue writing about this character I've had numerous request to do so which means, I'd better get busy. 
Here's the blurb: Newert, an erbit of Windlier Woods, is concerned. The magic of his world is seeping away. He struggles to open a portal to another world, believing that this will restore the magic of Windlier Woods. Assuming the big red truck is magical he returns to his world with the truck and its driver. Thus begins Newert's misadventure. What will happen next?
To order go here

This is a very short flash fiction story. Here's the blurb: At the end of our life, sometimes all we have is our memories. A flash fiction story, traditionally around 1,000 words give or take.
To order go here

Another short flash fiction story. Again, the blurb:
To order go here

I hope you all enjoy my stories, now to visit you.

P.S. Please leave a review. Thank you.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

A Late Night Arrival, Write...Edit...Publish

Halloween already. One of my favorite times of the year. Write...Edit...Publish has a great blog hop and it's not too late for you to work some magic and whip up a tale inspired by childhood fears, real or imagined. I'm posting a day early, so hop over to Write...Edit...Publish and add your name to the linky or at the least visit the other writers who are participating. Here's the link.

Thank you, Denise Covey, for creating this fun blog hop.

Before you read my story, I'm being interviewed by Crystal Collier today, here's the link.

A Late Night Arrival

Linda finished washing her face in the master bathroom sink. The kids were asleep and Bill was driving their oldest, Mary, back to her college dorm room. Slipping into her pajamas, Linda turned off the lights and snuggled down under the covers, 4 a.m. would come soon. Tomorrow would bring another eleven-hour shift at the hospital.
            Money was tight. Too tight. If only Bill would get a job. He was a great salesman. But instead of finding work he’d come up with another business idea and had rented a table at the mall, for too much money, to sell stock in his new company. The thought turned Linda’s stomach. She knew the company would never be realized and the company stock was just a scam. Bill would rather lie and steal than work for an honest company.
            How did her marriage come to this impasse?
            She sighed and hit her pillow, rolling over, trying to get comfortable, trying to go to sleep. A moment later Linda heard the car pull into the driveway. Bill was home. When the front door shut she heard the unmistakable sound of his limp as he walked down the hall toward their room.
            Exhaustion dulled her dread. She didn’t want to talk to him. He’d changed from the loving husband she’d married into an alcohol driven abuser who took out his frustrations on Linda and the kids. Should she divorce him? After 24 years of marriage, she hated giving up but none of them deserved Bill’s rage.
            The bedroom door opened. Linda didn’t move. She’d avoid his confrontation by pretending to be asleep.
            Bill sat on the foot of the bed removing his shoes and socks. Linda could tell by the way the bed wobbled along with old experience that he was taking them off. When he finished he went to the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light. A faint glow illumed the room from around the edges of the door. A moment later Bill turned on the faucet, Linda heard the water running. She lifted her head slightly to peer at the bathroom door just past the foot of the bed.
            As she waited, unable to sleep, Linda wondered what was taking Bill so long. From where she lay, she could see the alarm clock. Five, then ten minutes and the water still ran. Was he sick? As a nurse, her thinking always hovered close to imagining an illness or accident. Concern began to replace her misgivings. Bill might start in on something, but she had to make sure he was okay.
            Pulling back the covers Linda went to the bathroom door and knocked. “Bill.”
            No answer.
            She knocked again. “Honey, are you alright?”
            No answer. The water was still running. Linda opened the door a crack, then wider. Bill wasn’t in the bathroom. No one was and…the water was still running.
            Fear shivered along Linda’s spine and she was suddenly cold. She turned off the water, left the light on and the door open before going toward the hall and turning on the overhead light. The hall light was next and then the living room light. At the picture window, Linda drew back the drapes. No car in the drive. Bill wasn’t home.
            Who walked down the hall and came into her bedroom? Who sat on the bed? Who…who went into the bathroom, shut the door and turned on the light and water? Who?

Word Count: 579

Did this story creep you out? What if I tell you it is absolutely true. When I was twelve we lived in a haunted house in Arvada, Colorado. A little boy died of leukemia in this house and my mother used to see him propped up in a chair looking out the front window. I personally saw a grown man walk through the hall bathroom door and then through my brother’s bedroom door. I marched down the hall, opened the door and told it to leave my baby brother alone. Of course, I couldn’t see it anymore but I still ordered it out as if it were there.
            The story I told you happened to my mother. I changed the names of my parents. Not only did this happen, but while we lived in this house, my father tried to kill my mother with arsenic poisoning. She almost died, and yet, the doctors didn’t call the police. Times have changed since the sixties.
            So, if I ever sense a ghost lingering around me I tell them to get lost. And they do.

Once again, Crystal is interviewing me about my new e-book, Halloween Collection 1. Here's the link

Halloween Collection 1,  is FREE on Amazon IF you are a member. Or you can read for Free as a member. I had intended to offer it free to all but Amazon won't let me. 99 cents to buy. If you do, please leave a review.

Click here to order.

Have a spooky day.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Insecure Writer's Support Group. Boo!

Fun in the sun...or maybe the cold where you live. It's the first Wednesday of the month and that means it's time for another IWSG post. The creator of this support group is none other than Ninja Warrior of Blogs, Alex J. Cavanaugh. To read about more insecurities or to be inspired go here.

Announcements are here this day.

My Halloween Collection is available on Amazon kindle. This is a collection of seven flash fiction stories sure to make you smile and creep you out. I had a few issues with the cover and it says five stories but there are seven and it's FREE for 5 days! 10/7/15 - 10/11/15. So head over and get your copy.

To purchase go here.

In other news, I've finished the anthology submission for IWSG due Nov, 1, 2015 and my critique group has it. Wish me luck.

Now for some insecurities. Take a number. Stand in line because my insecurities are so numerous I don't know where to start. I suspect the worst one is depression. I manage it primarily by writing but sometimes it gets the better of me. How about you?

Any thoughts?

PS; Please share my Halloween Collection, thanks.