My Niece and Nephew joke that I could open a used book store with all the books that I own. I love to read, that is my addiction. I can't go a week without going to a book store. I love watching CASTLE. I love to write stories and poetry. I also love my family, even though they make me crazy at times. I am a huge Donald Duck Fan.
YA Sci-fi Adventure, Young Adult, YA Sci-fi, Paranormal
“Cooper stretched his arm over on top of Coupe to quiet him and hold him down. He then reached into Coupe’s mind and urged him to sleep, told him to sleep, that he was safe and could sleep the night through without worrying about those . . . things that came to him. Coupe’s thrashing began to subside. He did not scream at all. He returned to a peaceful sleep.”
Cooper Callister cannot speak. Coupe Daschelete is the victim of horrible abuse. No one would expect them to possess superhuman powers. But they do. When a fight in the woods forces them to reveal themselves to each other, they start a journey together that leads them to discover power they never expected, power they were never intended to have. To unlock those powers and fully understand them, they must follow a difficult and dangerous path of self-discovery and self-revelation. Cooper is forced to face the isolation of his silence. Coupe must confront the demons that haunt his dreams, planted there by those who have abused him and broken his mind. Alone they could not do it. Only together do they have the strength to conquer their challenges.
The threats they confront force them once again to evolve into something new, this time to face a new enemy with deadly intent. But is the world ready to accept what they have become?
“Do you have a library card for the public library here in town?” Everett asked.
“No, sir. I’m, uh, not welcome in there.”
Everett’s brow furrowed. “Why not? I would think they’d love a bookworm like you.”
“I think they did, to start. But they caught me trying to sleep in there a couple of times and the last time I was told I could not come back.” Coupe looked up at Everett a little defensively. “I wasn’t stealing anything if that’s what you were thinking. It’s just it was wintertime and it was cold. I couldn’t go down to the river then and I… well, I didn’t want to go home either.”
Everett felt a wave of sympathy for the boy. He was still going to be stacking firewood, though. “I didn’t think you were stealing.” He paused, thinking. “Coupe I wish I had known of you back then. We would have helped.”
“I know you would have. Well, I know that now.” Now it was Coupe’s turn to think. “In a way it turned out to be a good thing that my mother dumped me when she did.”
“I expect that’s a tough thing to deal with either way, Coupe, but yeah, that’s a good way to look at it, I suppose. We’re happy to have you.”
“No more fighting though, okay? You come to me or Evelyn. You don’t want to have the police involved.”
They were passing the public library as they drove home. Everett slowed and pulled into the parking lot.
“C’mon, Coupe, let’s see if we can get your reading privileges back.”
Coupe brightened. “You think so?”
“No harm in trying,” he replied as he parked.
The two got out and walked into the library. As they approached the circulation desk a woman looked up at them both, then she recognized Coupe and a stern look came across her face. Before she could speak, Everett started to plead Coupe’s case.
“Hi, I’m Everett Callister. I think you know this young man. I wanted to see if I could get him his library card back. You see, he’s living with us now. I’m his foster dad. He told me why he was not allowed back in here. I think you should know his circumstances were pretty rough back then. But he’s with us now. He’s a good kid and he loves reading. Is there any way he could start borrowing books again?”
The librarian looked at Everett as if sizing him up. “Did he tell you we found him sleeping in the back of the non-fiction section…on more than one occasion?”
“He did. It was pretty cold out. Did he tell you he had nowhere else to go?”
The librarian’s face softened. “He did not.” She thought for a moment. “I suppose if he is always supervised by you while he is here he can start coming back in…on a probationary basis to start with.”
They left the library with a brand-new card and five more books. Coupe was positively beaming. Everett had insisted he got one on the basics of small engine repairs. He was hoping Coupe might be able to help him with some…projects.
About the Author
Endy Wright received his undergraduate degree in English literature from Grinnell College and his juris doctorate from the University of New Hampshire School of Law. Before becoming an attorney, he was a counselor for at-risk children in New Hampshire, and, a cross-community worker in Belfast, Northern Ireland. He was also previously a research assistant in the House of Commons in London, England. As a trial attorney, he discovered that writing was a useful outlet for the stress that came along with his profession. His first book was a collection of short stories, entitled The Garden Plot Diaries. The Omicron Six is his first novel.
A nutty religious cult abducts a herd of prime gazebos (huh?) and it’s up to bumbling P.I. Mars Candiotti to rescue them. Mars, aspiring author, chronicles his quest in Jeffrey Hanlon’s comic mystery Zither.
Guided by his magically prescient IHOP waitress, Mars strives to mitigate the shocking global consequences of the gazebo heist, even though he has no idea what the word mitigate means. Mars has five Important clues with which to solve his confounding mystery: Butterscotch, John Travolta, Trombones Venetian Blinds, and Wind Chimes.
As Zither swallows its own tale, Mars finds it increasingly tricky to distinguish between real people and his rambunctious fictional characters. Zither becomes the romper room where his reality meets fantasy – and get frisky with each other.
Using his (odd) clues, Mars’ international odyssey leads to an explosive conclusion in Panama. TVs around the world tune in to watch live coverage of “Carnage in the Canal”.
Amid the lunatic havoc that is Zither there is (of course!) an epic love story as Mars meets Marian, the brainy librarian he had dreamed of. Marian says his books are “slapstick existentialism with subjective reality couched in parable”. (This is news to Mars). But is Marian real?
Is any of it real?
As nightfall approached, we prepared.
Pete disguised himself as management, putting on a nice Men’s Wearhouse suit with a bleeding turnip lapel pin.
I disguised myself as Britney Spears.
At the stroke of midnight, Pete and I left his house, which is and headed for the St. Francis Yacht Club.
As contrived luck would have it, Benny Tisdale had left the cabin on his dumb boat unlocked.
In stealthy fashion, Pete and I went below.
“I’ll shine the flashlight and listen for footprints. You find the varnish,” Pete said.
It took no time at all to find Benny’s Man O’ War. Actually, it took a bit of time, but you know what I mean.
As Pete held the light, I donned my surgical gloves and placed Benny’s Man O’ War in my black op bag.
“Easy as taking candy from a drowning man,” Pete whispered.
Pete said, “It’s dark in here, Mars. If you’re going to nod, warn me so I can shine the flashlight on your head.”
“Okay, Pete. We’ll make that a new rule.”
As we prepared to exit in stealthy fashion, Pete shined his flashlight around the cabin, then said, “Mars, look at this big wooden crate.”
I looked at the wooden crate. It was big enough to hold a Barcalounger.
“I’ll bet it’s filled with ill-gotten booties,” Pete said. “Or a Barcalounger.”
He handed me the flashlight and pried open the crate’s lid with a crowbar.
It was not until some time after dark that we took courage to get up and throw the body overboard. It was then loathsome beyond expression, and so far decayed that, as Peters attempted to lift it, an entire leg came off in his grasp . . .
“Peters?” Pete said. “Do you mean Pete? Me? What body? What leg?”
“Sorry. That’s Edgar Allen Poe, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym.“
“What’s Poe doing in this chapter?”
I shined the flashlight on my shoulder and shrugged.
He snatched the light back, looked in the crate, and said, aghast, “We’ve gotta get outta here quick, Mars! This boat could blow any minute!”
I looked inside the big wooden crate.
Here is what was in there: hundreds, probably thousands, of Steven Seagal movies.
We’d be lucky to get out of there alive.
Seagal movies have a tendency to bomb.
“Hanlon’s humor shines bright and will leave fans of such madness wanting more.” Publishers Weekly
“This zany, rollicking mystery adventure is as compelling as it is hilarious.” Independent Book Review
Nominated for the prestigious Audie Award, Best Fiction 2021
About the Author
I was born in a Southern California beach town.
My family moved to Northwest Oregon when I was 7. Or maybe when I was 8.
Had we stayed in the Beach Boys town, and knowing myself as I do now, I suspect I would have grown long hair, started a rock band, and been heavily into drugs. The rock band would probably have been pretty good. The rest of it, not so much. I’d likely have joined the ranks of those like Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin.
We moved to a mountaintop. The last five miles to get there were gravel. The final two miles were steep and to the end of the road.
That’s where we lived: the end of the road, 22 miles to the nearest town.
Our closest neighbor, about a mile down the road, was a hermit who lived in a shack. He had a goat. About once a month the goat would visit us. Then the hermit would show up to retrieve his goat. I think the goat liked us better than the hermit, which is why the goat kept showing up. Goats are funny animals. I think they aspire to be house pets.
And speaking of animals, we had cats. Lots and lots of cats. Because we were remote and at the end of the road, unkind people – and ‘unkind’ is the kindest description I can use here – would dump their unwanted cats on or near our property. The cats would find our house. We gave them Fancy Feast and our love, and in turn they loved us.
My childhood friends didn’t visit too often. That was at least partly because when they did show up my father would say something like this: “Great! We have a job that could use an extra hand. Won’t take more than five minutes.” Well, that five minutes usually turned into an hour or two – volunteer labor! – and that friend would seldom visit again.
So my favorite childhood playmate was a 2000 pound Hereford bull, a big boy with horns spanning three feet. I’d go out in the pasture and the bull would strike a pose not unlike what you’ve seen in the movies where the bull was ready to charge, head down, eyeing me. But he wasn’t going to charge me. He just wanted his forehead scratched. And so I would scratch his forehead. He liked that, shaking his head every so often to show his approval. Then we’d elevate to a game that the bull might have called ‘Let’s see how far we can toss this little kid!’ and I’d place my right hip against his massive head and he’d toss me into the air like a sack of flour. Over and over, farther and farther, higher and higher. I could have done that for hours – I can fly! – but after a few tosses the bull would grow bored with the game and wander off. Probably to chase some cute heifers.
The nearest library was 30 miles away, and we ventured there often. It was a majestic old building, and the Grand Room had books on all four walls with reading chairs in the center. But that was not where I wanted to be. I figured all those books were popular books or books I was supposed to read. I wanted something different, so I would enter the room with a small sign that said ‘Stacks’. It was row after narrow row after row of books, floor to ceiling, dimly lit, dusty. It was like entering a cave. Filled with treasures!
It was in those Stacks that I discovered the likes of Kerouac and Heller and Huxley and Fowles and Steinbeck and Ellison and Bradbury and Hemingway and many many others.
As Stephen King said, “Books are a uniquely portable magic.”
And those, each in their own way, was the inspiration for the first book I wrote at the age of eight or nine: ‘Pond Scum’.
The Gods demand absolutes, absolute devotion to a prophecy Seanait wishes wasn’t real. Ever since her riastrad awoke she has trained for her seventeenth birthday and the beginning of her destiny. With only a few months left, she is ready to return home to Ulster but when Romans invade Caledonia she can’t leave the land defenseless. Taking up arms next to her best friend Eion she is ready to defy the Gods and save lives. A chance encounter with the seventh fae prince of Amanthia, Cillian, awakens a dream that could change everything.
Cillian has spent nearly a year running from the trials for the crown of Amanthia. He wants nothing to do with the faelands who see him as a monster because of his Primal magic. He’s determined to never return but when Gods meddle in the fates of fae and humans alike everything will not go to plan. In order to survive the war with the Romans and their own destinies, Seanait and Cillian must depend on the one thing pulling them closer, their uncertain hearts.
This is YA historical fantasy series based on the Irish myth of Cu Chulainn.
About the Author
I am a new author who started my self-publishing journey this year in 2021. Curse of the Gods will be my fourth book this year but not my last. I live in the Philadelphia area with a house full of crazy cats you can see on my Instagram or website. I’m a long-time reader and fantasy fan. Anything with strong female protagonists pulls me in.
What’s a bright young woman to do when her brother becomes the main suspect in a murder? Why, solve the case of course.
England. 1923. After a year away at finishing school where she learned etiquette, deportment, and the difference between a salad fork and a fish one, Kitty Worthington is eager to return home. But minutes after she and her brother Ned board the Golden Arrow, the unthinkable happens. A woman with a mysterious connection to her brother is poisoned, and the murderer can only be someone aboard the train.
When Scotland Yard hones in on Ned as the main suspect, Kitty sets out to investigate. Not an easy thing to do while juggling the demands of her debut season and a mother intent on finding a suitable, aristocratic husband for her.
With the aid of her maid, two noble beaus, and a flatulent Basset Hound named Sir Winston, Kitty treads a fearless path through the glamorous world of high society and London’s dark underbelly alike to find the murderer. For if she fails, the insufferable Inspector Crawford will most surely hang a noose around her brother’s neck.
A frolicking historical cozy mystery filled with dodgy suspects, a dastardly villain, and an intrepid heroine sure to win your heart, Murder on the Golden Arrow is the first book in The Kitty Worthington Mysteries. For lovers of Agatha Christie and Downton Abbey alike.
Other Books in the The Kitty Worthington Mysteries Series
Murder at Westminster
The Kitty Worthington Mysteries, Book 2
Publisher: Hearts Afire Publishing
Release Date: June 3, 2022
Amateur sleuth Kitty Worthington once more jumps into the fray to catch the wily murderer of a high-ranking member of the nobility.
London. 1923. Much to her consternation, Kitty Worthington’s debut season is a resounding success, prompting marriage proposals from rogues, scoundrels, and ne’er do wells. Even as she dodges them, a new intrigue arises, and at Westminster, no less. A high-ranking member of the nobility is murdered, and her sister’s beau has been framed to take the fall.
With her beloved sister’s happiness at stake, Kitty once more sets out to investigate, ably aided by her faithful maid, two noble lords, a titled lady, and Sir Winston, her still flatulent Basset Hound. As they dash about London from pillar to post, from tenements to glittering ballrooms in search of the wily killer, can she convince the maddening, yet ever so handsome, Inspector Crawford to join the hunt? For if she fails, her sister’s beau may very well hang from the wrong end of a rope.
Murder at Westminster, the second book in The Kitty Worthington Mysteries, is another frolicking, historical cozy mystery filled with dodgy suspects, a wily villain, and an intrepid heroine sure to win your heart.
Magda Alexander is the USA Today bestselling author of several books, including the popular STORM DAMAGES series. She’s equally at home writing historical mysteries and sexy contemporary romances. When she’s not glued to her laptop writing her next book, Magda loves to bake delicious goodies and try out new recipes in her Instant Pot. A lifelong learner, Magda earned her degree from the University of Maryland and now resides in a city whose history dates back to colonial times.
The Psychopath and the Girl in Black Prada Shoes, Part I
Mary, is an established woman. Her lifespan is a petrifying mess. This is about dating a truly creepy sociopath, one who swindled himself through life. A self-absorbed, lying person using people.
He presents himself with a public persona of normalcy. She could not see what lay behind the dark shade of Drake Lucifer Bates. He was inappropriately flirting with her; he was a doctor and she was his patient. During a treatment session, he goes too far. Does he get hard when he treats patients? It was too late for her to escape.
Unintended she becomes captured in his mean spider web. Drake won her compassion with his enormous intellect and glimmering charm. Something vastly magical happened around him. She begins a passionate love affair with him. Their life seemed blissful on the outside. Behind his malicious plan, it was chilling.
Trusting him with her fragile life, she don’t see he is like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Believing him was fatal. Swindle wealthy patients, was his primary target. His manipulative behavior and scams, ends disastrous for Mary. She is a character in his horror movie. He sinks into his mania of deceives and lies. He is a predator! She don’t know anything about psychopaths. How does she figure out what she can expect from such people? Her life was never the same, but she learned from his evilness.
Other books in the Burning Desire Series:
Burning Desire Fades
The Psychopath and the Girl in Black Prada Shoes – Part 2
Part 2 presents the continuation of the maliciously agenda of Doctor Bates and will leave you in a trance of shock with its vigorous narrative. A moment ago, it seemed, it was yesterday full of happiness. Tomorrow it is a matter of survival for Mary as her life is on the brink of insanity to her Knight in Shining Armor. Loving him was all she ever had.
As she meets Drake again she becomes a slave in the madness of love. Before Mary notice the dangerous life, she gets deeply trapped in Drake’s dodgy mesh. It’s too late for her to escape. Fraud, lies, dominance, torment and the complexity of an abusive relationship evolve, and will unexpectedly be a new part of Mary’s life. Drake’s sinister betrayal sneaks slowly in as he lures Mary like a ravenous wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Mary will experience love, hatred and deception; however, will she continue to be Drake’s victim in his mystiques and hefty deceptions he gets during the nights? On the outside, it seems Drake is loving and has a high IQ, above normal. On the inside, he is a devious psychopath. The story will drastically unfold to a complexity of a love drama, crime, fraud and Drake’s delusions of grandeur.
At a secluded area outside Hong Kong, the mafia attempt to kill Drake. We will follow the two sweethearts in how they try to escape from the difficulties with the Asian Mafia. With lightning speed, three creepy guys and the mafia boss run into the Hotel to search for Drake.
Not only once, but several times the two lovebirds are on the run in the shadowy darkness of the night, because Drake steal and frauds his business associates.
It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book.
It’s more than difficult to get this all down on paper, because I want it to be authentic. I wish to rationally sense life as Mary experienced it with her ‘lounge room lizard’. All the names of the characters, the establishments, and the places have been changed. The story is fictional, but it contains ideas based on real events.
There is merely one problem! How to tell it in ten sentences? It can’t be told in a few words. Sorry, friends! However, ten sentences might be easy to read. So, let’s jump to it. A wise man once wrote, ‘Screw it.
Let’s do it.’1 So I did it! In my new process of life, I can add one more quote by the same man: ‘Do not be embarrassed by your failures. Learn from them and start again.’ Thank you for the push. It gave me a new beginning.
Living near the beach and walking it day and night, is my dream.
Falling peacefully asleep with the windows open to the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the beach. Letting the blue moonlight shine through the window and watching the glittering stars in the clear night sky, while relaxing in my bed. My decision to finish the story began when I moved into my new apartment, in the first row of homes facing the impressive sea of the English Channel. It provides a striking view from the vast balcony and is barely fifty metres from the dark blue sea and the golden sand, presenting its many small colourful typical British beach huts. Each hut has its own precise shade ranging from burnished orange to icy blue, to depict a ‘sunrise to sunset’ scheme.
The first night is wonderful peaceful and as I wake up to a warm August summer morning on the south coast of the United Kingdom.
The Sun is shining through my window as it awakens me at ten o’clock in the morning, while I’m still resting in my silky white sheets, warmly tucked around my naked body, and stretching my limbs as a lazy cat, because I have no desire to get up. After rubbing my eyes, I sit upon my bed to let the blood flow through all my veins, and I look around in the room in confusion. Oh, my goodness! Boxes in every corner. The balcony door is open, and I sense a pleasant fresh and cool sea breeze sneaks into the room, while I’m listening to the sound of the crashing waves reaching my inner ear with a pleasing calmness, and I think, Why not?
Leave the boxes and start writing a new book or finish the other ones I’m working on. I know my life is rather unreal, because I was heartbroken for a long time, and have not had the time or psyche to finish them. Being loved one day and completely upset the next turned my life drastically upside down. The man I love often tells me, ‘Trust me. I love only you. We are meant to be’ or ‘We will be together for the rest of our lives’. I’m devastated because it’s not as he promised. It’s all a lie! The many red flags slipped past my attention about him being a dangerous person. It’s difficult to imagine and comprehend if I’m going to have a life without him, because he is the best thing that I believe has happened to me. Too late, I figured out the meaning of the phrase
‘lounge room lizard’, but I believed him and trusted him with my life.
That could be the biggest mistake I ever made in my life, pondering if he behaves like this to every woman he meets on his path. What gruesome things will I eventually be able to reveal?
Why is it so important to use the expression ‘lounge room lizard’?
This expression is usually a reference to lounge musicians, but most often in a negative sense. Such a person has the character of a medieval, ordinary man, who looks charmingly good, and resembles a dehydrated, oppressed lizard, which romantically is involved with a wealthy woman.
He is typically shown as a well-dressed man and frequents surroundings where the rich and famous gather. He is the type of man who will seduce a wealthy woman with his flattery and deceptive charm. Oh, golly gosh! Do you believe it? He has so much charisma and is extremely convincing and pretends to be a first-class trustworthy charming person. I have never met any person so full of good ideas as his. It’s amazing how the chap can captivate people in front of an assembly, by being so enchanting with his skills and high energy.
Those were the main words during our time together. Later, various problems began to arise, with his many calculating plans, when his professional approach or his projects usually started to awaken a great deal of speculation—though often, it was too late to see through the disguise. So, did I do all my research too late? Was I excruciatingly conned, because I loved him blindly? A Russian proverb says, ‘Love is evil. You can fall in love with a goat.’ In other words, love is so blind, and the pretty headless chick becomes blinded.
The phrase ‘lizard’ presumably relates to the cold and insinuating quality of the reptile. It has sharp claws like an eagle, which is unscrupulous when snatching the next victim. It’s usually a distressed woman, whom he wants to lure into marriage, and maybe Mary was such a sorrowful pretty little doll. He eagerly tries at the early stage to seek some benefit from her, because he never married the previous one. Will he succeed? The woman usually has valuable possessions and money that the lizard man can profit from, and the more naive, unhappy, and helpless she is, the better for him. Then he strikes with his nasty sharp claws into her vulnerability and misuses her to the last drop, without any empathy or remorse. He chillingly torments her until she is severely wounded, like a helpless animal lying in the gutter, abandoned and helpless in its misery! Why does such a person so? Will she discover if he is a maliciously cunning narcissistic artist, an evil psychopath? A bloodsucking leech who sucks the last blood out of others. Has he done so through his entire life? Some say he is a person who completely lack of self-discipline and respect for obligations, rules, and social norms. Others say his speech patterns are repeated lies, with mood swings that are almost impossible to see through. Though, Mary trust this stunning man, even she sometimes sees that he has the flawless ability to bend the facts, and often he says it always someone else’s fault. That is his best play, so no matter what, that’s how it’s done.
It’s never his fault!
About the Author
M. L. Stark has been married for over 20 years and has adult children and grandchildren. She based certain elements of the story on real-life events. When Stark was middle-aged, she underwent a divorce and met a new man who mentally abused her. These experiences and her survival have empowered her to write stories about surviving cruelty and abuse.
“I am telling the story not of what I thought I was meant to be born into, but as the survivor I have become after abuse. I am also hoping to connect with people and deter them from facing a toxic relationship in their lives by sharing my own real-life events.” Stark says.
M. L. Stark dares to discuss what it is like to be in an abusive relationship, and shows the power in embracing the experience, prevailing and ultimately recovering from the abuse, escaping the psychopath and helping others tap into their empathy and prevail over similar hazards.