An Unexpected Legacy
September 30, 2023 by Dianna Sinovic in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as magic, short fiction, writing
The hall closet was the final frontier for Asher. For three days he’d been chipping away at the house: the trash bin on the porch was overflowing, the growing pile of items marked for donation threatened to topple, and Asher’s patience was worn to a nub. Neither of his siblings could be persuaded to help him with this overwhelming task—despite both of them sharing the same now-deceased father as he.
“Dad’s place is filled with junk,” Asher’s sister told him, after pleading her excuse of a busy schedule. “Just get rid of it all.”
It’s my vacation time, too, he wanted to point out. But Leigh thought her time more valuable because she was the CPA and a mother of two to his no-kid, single-man, dev-ops job.
With a sigh, he pulled down a cardboard box from the top shelf of the closet. He’d lost count of the number of boxes his father had packed into the nooks and crannies of the suburban rancher. Caution was printed in marker across the lid: Do not open. Asher shook the box, but heard no rattle or clunk. A forgotten Christmas present his father had squirreled away? He eased off the lid. Inside, a weighted bundle covered in blue silk filled most of the interior. Unwrapping it, Asher held a goblet that once must have been shiny gold. The cup was etched with faux lettering—It reminded him of a party store prop. Part of a Halloween costume? He tried to picture his father dressed in a Medieval tunic and Arthurian crown, sipping rum and Coke from the cup at a late October party. Nah, not Cooper Plack, whose imagination was limited to whether he could cheat on his annual tax return.
Asher ticked off what he’d found so far that might be worth something—something that would help pay off his father’s debts. It was a short list: a four-year-old Ford sedan parked in the driveway; a pair of diamond studs he’d found in a jewelry box (his late mother’s?) in the master bedroom; a vintage roll-top desk (once Asher cleared out the notebooks, catalogs, and random slips of paper stuffed into it), and now this—a goblet of questionable provenance.
Eager for a break, Asher carried the goblet into the kitchen and washed it, hoping a little soap and water would bring out the luster it may have once had. He whistled as he scrubbed the fancy cup with a dishcloth. The end of his house-emptying ordeal was in sight.
A sudden pop and flash surprised Asher enough that he almost dropped the goblet.
Why are we summoned?
The words that Asher heard seemed to float in the kitchen—or were they inside his head?
“Who’s . . . there?” He said this aloud, cautiously.
The only sound he heard back was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall above the microwave. Then . . .
We are the Calet of the Chalice. You know the Decree. State your purpose.
Asher still held the goblet, but it no longer looked tawdry. Instead, it gleamed from within. Clever party gag, he decided, and turned the goblet over to feel for the on/off switch. His fingers found only the smoothness of the goblet’s stem and base; no button, no toggle.
Oh, well. He would play along until the unit’s timer reset. “Ah, a Chalice, is it? Well, then, if it’s magic, I get three wishes, right?”
We will grant one wish.
“Only one?” Just like one of his father’s tchotchkes to act parsimonious.
Please note that after your wish, the Decree requires we receive something in kind.
Asher laughed. “Dad, where did you find this cheap-ass toy?” He set the goblet back in the sink and dried off his hands with a dish towel. Time to get back to his task.
Cooper Plack found us while dumpster diving along Walnut Avenue.
Frowning, Asher felt a twinge of unease. “Wait. That wasn’t a wish directed at you. It wasn’t even a wish.”
It counts. You should have read the Decree.
“There wasn’t any paperwork in the box,” Asher protested. He felt silly arguing with the toy. Even a toy that somehow knew how it came into his possession. His father a dumpster diver?
You have your wish. Our turn now.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a smirk, wishing that he’d never opened the box, never removed the blue silk. “But I’m a nobody. Just a software tech guy.”
Done. We accept that trade.
With another pop and flash, Asher vanished.
*
His sister, finally worried that she couldn’t reach him, stopped by their father’s house to investigate.
“Asher,” she called from the open front door. The word was swallowed by the silent rooms. He’d made more progress with the de-cluttering project than she expected. But where was he?
In the kitchen, she surveyed an open cardboard box, a yard of blue silk, and in the sink, a shiny goblet. But still no Asher.
She picked up the ornate cup and rotated it to study the antique lettering around its middle. Was this for real? She rubbed at a smudge near the rim.
Pop.
Stumbling back from the sink, Leigh dropped the goblet on the table as though it were scalding.
Why are we summoned?
A haughty voice filled her head, but underlying it she could make out an urgent murmur of others, and one in particular caught her ear.
“Asher?” she said. “Where are you?”
Run, Leigh, run.
And she did. Out the door, slamming it behind her.
0 0 Read moreLinda O. Johnston Featured Author
September 29, 2023 by marianne h donley in category Featured Author of the Month tagged as cozy mysteries, Dogs!, Harlequin Romantic Suspense, Linda O Johnston, mysteries, romance'
Linda O. Johnston enjoys writing, romance, puzzles, and dogs.
A former lawyer, Linda is now a full-time writer and has published 57 books so far, including mysteries and romantic novels. She has written several cozy mystery series including the Barkery & Biscuits Mysteries and Superstition Mysteries for Midnight Ink, and the Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter Mysteries and Pet Rescue Mysteries for Berkley Prime Crime. She also writes romances for Harlequin, including Harlequin Romantic Suspense. Writing as Lark O. Jensen, her latest release is Bear Witness from Crooked Lane Books. No matter what name she uses, nearly all Linda’s current stories involve dogs!
In addition to blogging for A Slice of Orange on the 6th of every month, Linda blogs at Killer Hobbies, Killer Characters, and Writerspace. Linda was interviewed by Jann Ryan, you can read all about it in Linda O. Johnston—Mysteries, Romantic Suspense and So Much More!
Linda enjoys hearing from readers. Visit her website at www.LindaOJohnston.com or friend her on Facebook.
A Few of Linda’s Many Books
9 Authors, 9 Interconnected Stories
September 28, 2023 by Alina K. Field in category Quarter Days by Alina K. Field, Writing tagged as Alina K. Field, Bluestocking Belles, Quarter Days, Regency romance, Romance Collections
Under the Harvest Moon
We’re less than two weeks away from the release of the latest Bluestocking Belles collection of historical romances, Under the Harvest Moon.
All new original stories by authors Caroline Warfield, Jude Knight, Sherry Ewing, Cerise DeLand, Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Collette Cameron, Mary Lancaster, Rue Allyn, and me are set at harvest time in 1815, in the small fictional town of Reabridge in Cheshire, England.
Here’s the blurb:
As the village of Reabridge in Cheshire prepares for the first Harvest Festival following Waterloo, families are overjoyed to welcome back their loved ones from the war.
But excitement quickly turns to mystery when mere weeks before the festival, an orphaned child turns up in the town—a toddler born near Toulouse to an English mother who left clues that tie her to Reabridge.
With two prominent families feuding for generations and the central event of the Harvest Moon festival looming, tensions rise, and secrets begin to surface.
Nine award winning and bestselling authors have combined their talents to create this engaging and enchanting collection of interrelated tales. Under the Harvest Moon promises an unforgettable read for fans of Regency romance.
A Team Effort in Planning
The members of the Bluestocking Belles plus participating author friends Collette Cameron and Mary Lancaster are spread out all over the globe. Thank heavens for the wonders of social media, messaging, Google Drive, and Zoom that make communication and collaboration rapid and easy. Or at least easier!
The hardest aspect of organizing was finding a good time for a Zoom meeting that would accommodate Elizabeth in Australia, Jude in New Zealand, Mary in Scotland, Rue in Nicaragua, and the rest of us scattered over U.S. Eastern, Central, and Pacific time.
But we did it, and just about a year ago, after much preliminary research and chatting, we finalized our story world and deadlines as a group and then each presented ideas for the individual characters and stories. Later, we shared in beta-reading drafts and final copy before submission to Jude Knight (who is also an editor) for the final editing.
When a character wandered into another author’s story, the creating authors chatted separately. So, for example, my heroine, Fleur, encountered the heroine of Rue’s story, Charite, and offered a description through Fleur’s point of view that had to be adjusted after Rue’s critique and input. Caro’s doctor hero appears briefly in my story, in one scene with my hero, and later in a scene at the home where my heroine resides where he’s come to deliver a baby.
There’s more, yet each story is a standalone romance delivered in each author’s unique voice. You can preorder your copy for only 99 cents and have it pop onto your eReader on release day, October 10th.
The special pricing will be good through October 17th. Plus, if you haven’t read last year’s Bluestocking Belles collection, Desperate Daughters, you can pick up a copy of that for only 99 cents through October 4th!
And Here Are the Stories: Under the Harvest Moon
Moonlight Wishes and Midnight Kisses by Collette Cameron
A scarred veteran with no future, Courtland Marlow-Westbrook wants to be left alone. Scottish heiress Avery Levingtone never stopped loving him and is determined to win his love again. Will these former sweethearts find happiness together, or will the wounds of the past keep them apart?
The Morning Light by Caroline Warfield
Adam Wagner is meant to save lives, not take them. He is haunted by Waterloo. The horror of it keeps him from those he loves. Meg Barlow doesn’t understand how Adam could turn his back on her so thoroughly, but she isn’t about to let him get away with it.
A Harvest Blessing by Rue Allen
All the battles are over, or are they? When Captain Thom Owen is forced into a false engagement, he must escort his pseudo-fiancée home to meet his father. Can an English vicar’s son and a French Comte’s daughter find love despite their differences?
Coming Home by Mary Lancaster
Old memories, new love
Home from Waterloo, Captain David Buckley contemplates settling down near his hometown of Reabridge—only it is full of painful memories. The mysterious Lady Lorna falls literally into his arms, and he begin to understand the true meaning of love and home.
Under the Champagne Moon by Alina K Field
Fleur Hardouin’s heart longs for Captain Gareth Ardleigh, but she needs an advantageous marriage.
Gareth has promised to find Fleur—on behalf of another man.
Now he must choose between honoring a promise and trying to win the hand of the woman he loves.
A Quiet Heart by Elizabeth Ellen Carter
Widowed at Waterloo, where she also nursed the wounded, Veronica Petersham promised a dying man to bring his effects to a family in Reabridge. She falls ill just short of her goal, in the milking shed of kind and stoic Martin Bromelton.
Perhaps there is hope for the future after all and the opportunity to find love once more.
A Love Beyond Time by Sherry Ewing
Eight years ago, Hannah Pownall had her heart broken by a young lord.
Captain Brandon Worthington returns to the town of Reabridge to recover from the war and finds the girl he once loved still unwed. Can love at first sight be reborn after heartbreak, proving a second chance is all you need?
The Widow’s Harvest Hope by Cerise DeLand
The new Earl Barlow returns home from Waterloo, intending to live by his own rules. The woman he loved and lost years ago visits for the Harvest festival—and he plans to offer Vicky Wright what they both want. Can a lady who has lived by the rules throw them all away to seize her last chance for happiness?
Love In Its Season by Jude Knight
The Battle of Waterloo lost Jack Wrath the use of one arm and ended his career in the cavalry. He has no place to go and nothing to offer. Gwen Hughes has a business to run and no time for romance. Under the harvest moon, two people who believe romance has passed them by finally reach their season for love.
Buy links:
Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C86Q2Y4H
Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/under-the-harvest-moon/id6450278674
Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/under-the-harvest-moon-6
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/178584368-under-the-harvest-moon
Universal Link: https://books2read.com/UnderHarvestMoon
Happy autumn! I’ll be back with another post in December.
0 0 Read moreDrifting into Autumn: Micro Poems by Neetu
September 26, 2023 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as autumn, fall, nature, Neetu, season change
Drifting into Autumn
(6 Micro Poems including Haiku)
a nip in the air
swirling to my feet
one blushing leaf
~
Autumn tiptoes
nudging Summer
out the door
~
flowers and dreams
the earth churns and mulches
I, a falling leaf
~
ablaze in autumn
the yellow leaves know
how to burn
~
blast of wind
the last leaves blow away
leave me barren
~
tell me when
leaves fall and
your heart grieves
I will crush them
under my feet and
turn them into mulch
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
THE CHOICE
September 25, 2023 by Kidd Wadsworth in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as dreams, Flying
This is a true story.
Two nights ago, I had a dream I could fly. I opened my arms wide, pulled the wind toward me and felt my feet lift off the ground. It was glorious. With my engineering-trained mind I quickly sought practical applications.
First, my husband and I went out at night—so the neighbors wouldn’t see—and I picked all of the apples, red and ripe, off the top branches, dropping them one by one into my husband’s waiting hands. Next, I inspected the flat portion of our roof. Never buy a house with a flat roof. We worry about that 10 x 10 section constantly. Then I decided to fly out to Seattle to visit my son. But about three minutes into the flight—I was traveling at approximately 10miles/hour—I realized that Seattle is 3000 miles away. That’s a 300 hour flight.
Hearing a roar overhead, I decided to fly into the clouds and hitch a ride on a passing jumbo jet.
NO!
Those things travel at 600 miles/hour. My head would get blown off.
I suppose even flying has its practical limitations.
In the final image of the dream, I was in the future and my son had a three-year-old daughter. I had volunteered to watch her for the day. As the scene opened, we were gleefully jumping on my son’s bed. Then I taught her to fly. “Open your arms, like this.” I opened my arms, “and pull the wind to yourself.” How quickly she learned.
“Flying is so much fun, Nana.”
When I woke, I immediately understood the dream. I can do the impossible. The choice is mine.
Last night, I had a second dream. I was agitated and rushed. I slipped the car into reverse, stomped down on the accelerator and backed out of the parking space so recklessly that I plowed into the car behind me one row over. Crying and distraught, I called the police and reported the accident. My silver Chevy Malibu—a huge tank of a car with bench seats and a V8—was undamaged. The next morning, again jittery and overwrought by . . . whatever . . . I backed out and hit another car. That night I hit a third vehicle in exactly the same way, this one belonging to Omar, a guide who had been helping me by showing me around town. “You totaled my car!” He grabbed his head in distress. “How am I going to get to work!”
I was taken before a judge.
“I’m so sorry. I was stupid. This is all my fault.”
She took away my driver’s license.
“I don’t know why I did this. I was just so upset and angry.”
I was sentenced to counseling. “You could have hurt someone,” she said. “When I’m satisfied you’re no longer a danger, I’ll give your license back.”
I woke. Immediately, I understood the dream. I am powerful. I can use my power to destroy things and hurt the people I love.
The choice is mine.
My power is my creativity. Most importantly my power is my writing. With my stories I can reveal truth to those who would hide from it. I can comfort the soul of a hurting person. I can unveil oppression. I can say, I understand, and I stand with you. With my stories I give my heart word-wings to fly where I cannot go. And on these wings my readers soar to longed-for futures.
Or I can ravage tender souls with hate and lust and violence.
The choice is mine.
~ Kidd Wadsworth
Kidd’s Stories are in the following anthologies
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INTO THE MOONLESS NIGHT
Catch Starthorne has spent a lifetime running from the prophecy that names him as the one who will save the shifter race, but now that he has returned to his home in Clawcrags, he may have to face his destiny.
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THE SHORT & SWEET OF IT: When the Right Word Is a Short Word
How do we say more with less? Can short, simple words make what we write so clear that the reader gets it? Or will it remind them of reading a child’s board book?
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Can O'Neill and Jericho work together to unravel lies on both planets and still obtain the respect Jericho craves and the independence O'Neill needs?
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