Tag Archives: Paranormal

by | October 1, 2019 · 5:00 am

The Soul Collector Blitz

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Urban Fantasy / Paranormal
Date Published: 8/28/19
Publisher: Story Bound Publishing
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As I lay trapped inside this quiet realm, 
My soul adrift, my body earthbound,
A magical book guards my flight,
Will it keep me safe till morning’s light?
It begins with darkness. Are they dead, or trapped inside a horrible dream? No one can hear them, see them. Has the world forgotten them? Are they invisible? Not to the Soul Collector. They have stepped into her Kingdom, and she is waiting for them.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
The biggest boxing match of the season landed on a Friday the 13th. But a little thing like superstition had no effect on the newcomer, Jonathan Bayfield, and heavyweight champion, Lou Turlock. The fight fans agreed, stomping their feet while chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” inside the packed, brightly lit arena. Sportscasters got up close and personal, claiming ringside seats for an in-your-face camera view.
Bayfield locked his gaze on his opponent, his right ear taking in Coach’s words.
“Go to the body. Don’t overreach. Straight punches. Got it?” Coach gripped Bayfield’s shoulder. “Hey, eyes on me. Don’t let him get inside your head.”
Bayfield looked at Coach, giving him a slow nod, then reverted his focus back to Turlock, transmitting a defiant “this fight is mine” glare.
Turlock reciprocated, taunting Bayfield with a “we’ll see” sneer.
The vein in Bayfield’s forehead pulsed, spreading a surge of heat through his body. A fist to the gut. That would show the arrogant prick he had something to worry about, rattled through his mind. The ringside bell shattered Bayfield’s thoughts, bouncing him to his feet. Turlock came out swinging, and Bayfield pivoted while throwing a right hook, catching the corner of Turlock’s jaw. Turlock countered, landing a jab to Bayfield’s chest. The blow forced the air from Bayfield’s lungs, his body folding in half. But he quickly sprang upright, shaking off the sting, and fired off several consecutive punches straight into Turlock’s gut.
Turlock wobbled back and the crowd roared, shouting, “Way to go, Bayfield!” Bayfield bounced back and forth on his feet, tapping his gloves to the crowd’s cheers.
Turlock’s own pulse battered against his eardrums. Where was the respect? He was a champion, and these morons had the nerve to cheer for a nobody, some kid who’d happened to land himself a good manager. Adrenaline tipped the scales on the fighter’s rationality. Cognitive thought ceased. The whites of his eyes blazed as he hurtled his body like a weapon, slamming his skull against the kid’s.
A crackling of bones ricocheted inside the ring, causing an eerie silence to fall over the area, before shouts from the crowd came from all sides. The ref barged in, spewing spit as he held Turlock back. Turlock’s gaze traveled over the ref’s shoulder, colliding with the kid’s vacant stare. He knew that look; like no one was home. He’d seen it in his grandpa’s eyes before he’d taken his last breath. An icy chill scurried down Turlock’s spine as the kid crumpled to the mat. Turlock stood still as medics, judges, and more refs flooded the ring, surrounding the kid’s lifeless body.
“I can’t find a pulse.”
“Start compressions.”
Coach pushed his way through the chaos to Bayfield. “Jonathan, can you hear me?” Coach’s voice shook. “Stay…” He blew out a breath. “Stay with me, buddy.”
Bayfield’s eyelids flew open, and with one push, he was on his feet. A weird and wonderful lightness affected his body, which made no sense, being as he weighed 200 pounds. Sounds rushed back, bouncing against his eardrums and forming words—Coach’s words.
“Hold on, Jonathan. The ambulance is on its way.”
Bayfield focused his attention on Coach. “Ambulance?”
“Just hold on.”
Bayfield laughed. “What are you talking about? Coach, I’m standing right behind you. Turn around.”
Coach made no attempt, his focus centered on something in front of him.
Bayfield’s tone rose an octave. “Coach, what gives?”
No answer came, not from Coach, nor from any of the other people hovering around him.
Bayfield skimmed the faces of the crowd, searching for a clue or hint to enlighten him on what the hell was happening. Why was everyone ignoring him?
“Step aside, people,” security broadcasted with authority, herding the crowd back. “Let the paramedics through.”
“Paramedics? Who got hurt?” Bayfield’s gaze darted to Turlock, where men in dark blue suits surrounded him, escorting him toward the locker room. Bayfield let his gaze grow distant. He had no memory of the fight ending, and his boxing gloves were missing. No one acknowledged him. None of it made sense. He gave his head a good shake. “Gotta be an explanation for all this.” As his vision cleared, it centered on the paramedics rolling a lifeless body away on a stretcher—his body!
His brain skidded to a stop—no pause, no rewind, no press play. Just a complete stop. Was he being punk’d? Was this some kind of sick joke? His gaze followed the stretcher, catching the tail end of it slipping inside the ambulance. Coach followed, his hands running through his salt and pepper hair. The look of sheer terror etched across Coach’s pale face slammed against Bayfield’s brain. This was no joke. This was real, and that ambulance was about to take off with his body.
Bayfield launched across the ring, catapulting over the ropes and sailing inside the ambulance seconds before the doors closed and the siren sang out. He plopped down next to Coach, his gaze transfixed on his own body lying across from him. One massive, purplish bruise swallowed up his bloodied forehead. Bayfield couldn’t explain it—couldn’t understand it. “I’m sitting here, but also lying there. How is that possible?” In a momentary shift, his eyes found Coach’s, thirsty for an answer. None came. The silence sent a chill down Bayfield’s spine.
A paramedic with tattoos blazing down his arms informed, “Got a pulse,”—his intense blue eyes narrowed—“but it’s thready.”
The paramedic behind the wheel, sprouting a six o’clock shadow, lobbed a reply over his shoulder. “Letting dispatch know we’re five minutes out.”
Coach gripped his hands, squeezing the blood from his knuckles. “Getting a pulse, even a weak one, is a good thing, right?”
The tattooed paramedic waited a good minute before saying, “For now, yes.”
About the Author

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LAURA DALEO is the author of five books. She is best known for her storytelling of the vampiric persuasion. Her most recent work, The Vampire Within, is the third book in her Immortal Kiss series. The series is an interesting twist on the Egyptian pantheon being the original vampires. Her current project, The Doll, is her first horror tale, with a touch of mystery. She lives in sunny San Diego, California, with her three dogs, Stuart, Morgan, and Dexter.
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by | September 23, 2019 · 5:00 am

Guardian of Angel Blitz

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Book 2 of the Father of Contention series
Science Fiction and Fantasy, Paranormal
Publisher: Tellwell Talent
Date Published: July 29, 2019
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When evil finds a way, man becomes beast.
In the small town of Thunder Bay, 2002, Angelika Juris becomes unexpectedly linked to her guardian angel, Gavin, after a suspicious near-death experience. While trying to figure out the complicated nature of their connection, they uncover a plot so disturbing, it threatens to shift the delicate balance between life and death and eradicate the precious human gift of free will.
When her sister goes missing, Angelika must search the unforgiving terrain of the Rocky Mountains, with her guardian angel as her guide. But they find more than just her sister—a   familiar face, Renner Scholz—and a secret lab teeming with his ongoing, unhindered experiments, including the most powerful of his offspring—the triplets.
Now, Angelika must find a way to free her sister from her evil captors, along with a newfound love interest—Anthony—Renner’s only normal son. Will they be able to thwart Renner’s malevolent schemes and escape with their lives, or will they suffer the same fate as so many of his previous victims?
Chapter 1
Tomas – 1984
Tomas Scholz sits upon a throne beside his father above the stones
of fire. Surrounded by splendour, he bursts with pride as all bow
down and honour them, bestowing gifts of great riches: precious
gems and stones—sardius, topaz, diamond and onyx—silver and
gold, and the rarest of artifacts collected from all over the many
realms. This destiny, although not yet achieved, awaits him after
this world has passed away, or so the shadow has promised.
In time. He must be patient.
A three-toed woodpecker, normally a quiet, shy, little bird,
hammers out a tune on a nearby dead spruce, redirecting Tomas’
thoughts away from his daydreams and back to the matter at hand.
Carrying the device with painstaking care, he reaches a clearing
in the mountains. This flat fold of land has been carefully selected
for the job, unchartered territory, a place no man has previously
travelled. The device is light despite its enormous potential for
destruction, light enough for his nine-year-old hands to carry.
The wind swells in unpredictable gusts sending uprooted weeds
and debris to tumble across the dry landscape. It is not ideal
weather to test out his experiment, on the contrary, but he is
impatient, insistent. If it were anyone else attempting this feat
they would be prudently dissuaded, encouraged to wait for more
opportune conditions. The summer had been a dry one, and the
arid conditions mixed with the gales of wind are a recipe for
disaster.
But Tomas is not like other children. His abilities are powerful
enough to defy even the wind.
Besides, Tomas is too excited to see how it finally works, unable
to wait a moment longer. Adrenaline almost palpable as he flits and
floats across the glade despite his clubbed foot, preparing for the
initial trial of the weapon he has designed and built all by himself.
He is a genius. Wisdom doesn’t grow on trees; it is inherited.
Or prepared in a lab. Both methods are responsible in Tomas’ case.
Born of Renner’s sperm, he has inherited the genes for brilliance,
but his earthly father further manipulated Tomas’ genetic structure
to enhance his potential for genius. In this Renner has been
successful.
Just a child, Tomas is already capable of recombinant DNA
technology and minor medical procedures. Always the perfect
pupil. Always eager to learn more. Technology and inventing
advanced weaponry are his preferred hobbies, skills that come
to him naturally, and had he been allowed to go out in public to
submit these innovations for patenting, he would earn millions,
perhaps billions. But they are billionaires and have no need for
more money. And he is not ready to go out in public, to be exposed
to the world—the world not ready for him yet. For Tomas’ talents
don’t stop there.
Surpassing his higher level of intelligence are his supernatural
abilities, having both fathers to thank for this gift. By the shadow
entering Renner’s body that fateful night in the abandoned chapel,
his DNA changed, which was then passed on to his offspring.
These changes increased the development of DMT produced by
the pineal gland and the subsequent presentation of supernatural
abilities, the like of which have never been seen in humans.
Renner had also manipulated Tomas’ genes, splicing them with
favourable animalistic traits to increase his special abilities. The
final product is a boy who has powers that are both profound and
intense. Unrestrained. In this Renner has also been successful.
Tomas is a telepath, able to read other people’s thoughts
and desires with great ease. Most impressive are his telekinetic
capabilities, able to teleport any object, from the size of a grain of
sand all the way up to a massive Gothic castle to any location he
so desires. Able to transport his own body.
But impressive though this is, Tomas is not perfect. None of
them are. Flaws remain in Renner’s recombinant DNA techniques,
glitches he still struggles to correct with each series of experiments.
There is always an element of trial and error when it comes to
experimenting in new unexplored areas, but he has faith he will
overcome these limitations and the supernatural abilities that all
the offspring display prove he is on the right track.
Tomas is the most handsome of them all if you could call
him handsome. Hair, worn long and unruly. Taller than most
nine-year-olds, he is more muscular as well but not a giant like
some of his brothers. He prefers to wear mostly jogging pants,
jeans, T-shirts, and sweaters for there is no need to dress up here.
No one to impress. His eyes are as black as pitch and empty. Dead
embers.
Born with a cleft palate, Tomas underwent corrective surgery
as a young baby, but Renner being untrained in cosmetic
procedures, the repair didn’t go as well as planned. Tomas can
feed and communicate much better than he would have without
the surgical procedure, but a resultant lisp when speaking words
that contain the letter s has Tomas training extensively to articulate
his words. The lisp now more of an extended, exaggerated s sound.
The speech impediment isn’t as bothersome as the thickened scar
tissue between his nose and upper lip. Tomas plans on visiting
a real cosmetic surgeon who will correct the botched effort his
father performed and eliminate the scar—when he is older, when
he is permitted to venture out into the real world. He also has a
clubbed right foot that gives him a mild limp. These deformities
are considered minor compared to his brothers’. So, he has little
to complain about, this he knows.
His brothers, on the other hand, have not fared as well. The
flaws in Renner’s experiments far more evident. The deformities
more intensive, requiring massive reconstruction, the likes of
which do not yet exist. Tomas is already working diligently on
this limitation, inventing his own brand of prosthetics that will
help the remainder of his triplet brothers—his womb-mates—and
other siblings to help them be more aesthetically pleasing to the
eye or at least less abhorrent while simultaneously helping them
to channel their own gifts. Augment them.
But again, in time.
Tomas’ preparations slowly come to completion. He lopes
across the field through tussock grasses and stunted shrubbery to
the location he has deemed most beneficial for his test. He stops
amidst a patch of denser grasses and wildflowers, adjacent to a
stand of tiny gnarled aspens. Mounds of rhododendron underbrush
proudly display their yellow and white puff ball-shaped flowers
tinged with pink and lavender.
Soon their beauty will be extinguished.
The sound of a river rushing at highs speeds can be detected from
this vantage point, an important proponent for this experiment to
function smoothly.
He looks over to see if the shadow—his other father, the one
that matters most—is watching, desiring his praise. A moment of
insecurity?
But, the moment of weakness is short-lived. As soon as Tomas
senses approval, he commences, extending his right arm towards
the surrounding rhododendron mounds and dry grasses. Clumsily,
he fastens the contraption to his extended right wrist with plastic
straps and buckles. The weapon, a flame thrower, is like no other.
It is controlled by Tomas’ mind alone, lacking buttons or switches,
with nothing to turn it on or off, no dials to increase or decrease
its power, except by his mind’s will.
Abruptly he stops, eyes fastening on the shadow as the sound of
a woman’s scream pierces his mind. The sound is heard through
his gift, although the actual source is not much further than their
location, yet still safely out of harm’s way. Their eyes make contact,
full of mutual understanding. It is Milena, once more in the throes
of labour.
“It will be a boy,” he tells the shadow.
“Yes, yes, I know,” the shadow responds.
They are all boys, so it is a natural conclusion. However, Tomas
knows this on another level, knows it for a fact as the baby’s
thoughts can already be heard, although he is not yet born. “He
is different,” Tomas adds, before returning to his task without
further explanation.
A shiny, black crow bursts out of the shrubbery and furiously
flaps its wings, escaping barely in time, somehow anticipating
the fire that will quickly follow. Tomas telepathically transmits
a message to the weapon to eject a far-reaching rope of flame
from its tip, and the contraption immediately obliges, bathing the
mountain glade in fire. He slowly spins in a circle creating a ring
of fire around him, the flames dancing and rising as if in adoration
and worship. The intense orange from the fire’s light is reflected
in his black eyes as if tiny flames have been sparked from within
the lifeless black embers.
“It works!” he exclaims. “Father, can you see it?”
The flames continue to rise.
And rise. And rise higher still, the flames licking and lapping at
Tomas’ face and body and limbs. Searing, melting, binding. Until
flame and skin become one.
About the Author

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Lanie Mores enjoys travelling to alternate realities, often found with her head buried in a book, binge watching Netflix, or playing video games. Although fantasy and science fiction are her obsession, she enjoys most forms of literature, and has been writing poetry since she was a wee bairn.
She has worn many hats throughout her life: cashier, medical records secretary, psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, personal trainer, and most importantly, mom. Her son is the moon of her life, her sun and stars, and she would do anything for him…destroy Terminators sent from a future realm, deflect an Unforgivable curse with her motherly love, and travel through the Upside Down to find him, even if she had to face the Demogorgon himself.
Inspired to write by Stephen King, Diana Gabaldon, Jean M. Auel and Margaret Atwood, she has big shoes to fill, but has always been a huge dreamer and has the determination to aim higher than the stars. GUARDIAN OF ANGEL is the second novel she has written and published, book 2 in the FATHER OF CONTENTION series.
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by | June 17, 2019 · 12:10 pm

GSR Countdown Blitz – Stevie-Girl and the Phantom Pilot

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Ann has been a writer since junior high, but to
pay the bills she has waited tables, delivered newspapers, cleaned other
people’s houses, taught school, and had a stint as a secretary in a rock-n-roll
radio station. She also worked as a 911 operator and a police dispatcher. 

Her fiction began to win awards during her college days. Since then she’s
published several short stories, novels, and novellas. She’s always reading and
always writing, but even if she never sold another story, Ann would not stop
writing. For her it’s a necessity, like breathing. Most of the time, it even
keeps her sane.

 

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No matter who dares you, no matter what lures
you, do not go in the spooky old house…
 


When a small planes crashes behind Jase’s rural home, the ghost of the pilot
begins to haunt him. Jase can’t figure out what to do until the day he sees his
classmate, Stevie-girl, enter the legendary haunted house. That’s when he
decides if anyone can help him solve the mystery, she’s the one. 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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Snippet:
The West Texas night wind
whispered and whistled around the window frames. I was in my mom’s favorite
chair reading The Tell-Tale Heart
when I heard the stuttering drone of a small plane. In our rural setting, it
sounded very low and very loud.
Then the noise stopped.
Lady, the German shepherd I’d
found lying mangled and near death beside the road, was standing in front of
the picture-window, head cocked to one side.
The silence was thick and cold.
As we watched, the tail of a small
plane disappeared behind the line of firs west of the house. There was still no
sound but the wind.

 

I dialed the operator and told her
what I’d seen. She immediately patched me through to the Sheriff’s office so I
could tell the dispatcher what had happened. Then I ran outside to see what I
could see. Lady was right behind me.
 

 

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by | April 21, 2019 · 11:24 am

THE WARLOCK’S CONQUEST – Blitz

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THE WARLOCK’S CONQUEST, A Magical Shifter Fantasy Romance

by Lorelei Moone
Shifters of Black Isle, #4
Publication Date: April 19, 2019
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance, Shifters, Paranormal, Novella, Standalone

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SYNOPSIS

He would have his revenge. Nothing and no one could stop him.
Ferris has spent the better part of six years training and preparing for vengeance. The barbarians who abducted his sister so long ago would pay for their sins in blood. With the help of his magic, he’d avenge her honor, and wipe out the Black Isles once and for all. It’s all so clear, until he starts to wonder if he’s fighting for the wrong side.

She knows she must kill him. So why does she hesitate?
As right hand woman to the General, Eryn plays an important role in the defense of the Black Isles and its people. When a ship full of human mainlanders is spotted in their territory, she knows they must strike the enemy hard. War will tear the Isles apart if the warlock on-board the ship isn’t stopped. Only, she can’t bring herself to do the needful… He has put her under his spell.

They’re sworn enemies, fighting for opposing teams. The battlefield is the last place where love should bloom. But as they are about to discover, passion and hate are two sides of the same coin…

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EXCLUSIVE RELEASE EXCERPT

It was unmistakably him. Eryn was instantly mesmerized by the man’s eyes.

This was the one who had attempted to read her mind as she had flown past the ship earlier, staring up at her from his cabin, assuming she wouldn’t notice.

Only, she had noticed.

Now here he stood, his sword held high, circling her in a bid to evade the aim of her bow and arrow. He wouldn’t be able to, of course. She was faster than any human. More accurate.

And she had orders to kill. All it took was one swift flick of her finger. The arrow would hit any body part of her choosing instantly.

Time seemed to stand still for her, as soldiers rushed past and clashed with the other humans. The latter were no match, of course. Every single one of her fighters had at least a foot or two on the feeble humans. But her opponent was different.

The warlock was unique.

He stood taller than his companions, with broad, muscular shoulders to match. They were about equally matched as far as height went. And he looked younger than the others, probably closer to her own age.

His blue eyes hid all sorts of sins.

But these superficial observations hadn’t shaken Eryn. As physically impressive as he was for one of his breed, Eryn had been affected by a much deeper power.

It must be his magic, she thought. And yet she felt no sign of his presence in her own mind.

Strange.

All she could do was observe him, as though she was not truly in control of her body.

Then, the spell was broken by his first move. He charged ahead and swung at her with his sword, and instantly she snapped out of her trance.

She defended herself with her bow, whipping it around to break the impact of his weapon, then swiftly flung it over her shoulder and unsheathed a blade of her own.

They danced around each other, eyes locked on, taking turns to attack and defend. But his impact lacked strength. Were humans really that much weaker? Or was he as reluctant as she was to do real damage?

Where had her hesitation come from? She didn’t have time for this!

Eryn bit her bottom lip as she swung around again. In this carefully orchestrated charade of a fight, it was her turn to strike. She’d had enough of the pretense and more importantly, she had orders to follow.

She raised her sword and aimed. He stepped aside to evade her attack, just as she suspected he’d do. In response, she changed direction mid-swing, found an opening, and brought the tip of her blade to a halt right at his throat.

It would be so easy to push a little harder and draw blood. So easy, and yet impossibly difficult. With a heavy heart she realized she couldn’t finish it. She couldn’t bring herself to kill him.

“You’d better drop that sword,” she hissed.

The man did as he was told, but his expression was as calm as it had been all along. Like this wasn’t a real fight, and he hadn’t really been defeated.

“I surrender.” As he spoke, the corner of his mouth curled up just slightly.

Was he smiling?

Eryn could not be sure. All she knew was that the longer she looked at his boyishly handsome face, the deeper she would sink. He’d given up so quickly, she couldn’t even justify carrying out Rhea’s demand here. Not in full view of her soldiers, who had been given clear orders to keep the prisoners alive.

So in a way, it was she who had lost this fight after all.

Rhea would be furious and rightly so. She was angry with herself.

A quick glance around revealed that most of the other humans had surrendered as well. If this was the sum total of the threat against the Isles, then they had nothing to worry about. As she looked back at her own prisoner, something shook Eryn to her core. His expression was so relaxed, it almost looked smug. There was something more coming.

She might regret capturing him alive before the day was over.

“Tie them up and stash them below deck, then we’ll tow the entire ship back to Black Mountain,” Eryn ordered. “Good fight, everyone!”

Her soldiers let out a loud cheer before getting to work and doing what she’d ordered. Eryn stood back and let someone else secure the ropes around the warlock’s wrists.

There was something about him that she could not understand. She wasn’t just apprehensive of his powers; it wasn’t fear she felt.

Yet she dare not touch him. Or look him in the eye for too long.

Her heart was beating just a little too fast. Her breaths had become too shallow. If she didn’t know any better, she thought it might be nerves. A funny tickle in the depths of her stomach made it hard for her to remain focused.

If she was in fact nervous, there was another, heavier feeling making things worse. A deep sadness had crept into her chest. It tore at her, and dragged her down.

It was only once he was completely out of sight that she could breathe a little more freely.

THE WARLOCK’S CONQUEST teaser 3

ABOUT LORELEI MOONE

Lorelei Moone is an author of paranormal / fantasy romance based in London. A lover of all things sweet, and caffeinated, when she’s not writing about sexy bear shifters and their strong-willed curvaceous love interests, Lorelei can be found baking cookies or cakes for her family.

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by | March 22, 2019 · 5:00 am

Anabel Horton – Blitz

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Fantasy / Paranormal
Date Published: March 11, 2015
Publisher: Chattercreek
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From the Salem Witch trials through the Nineteenth Century and beyond, the devil’s disciple pursues young and innocent Annabel Horton.  During the Incident at Loudun in 1633 Urban Grandier’s soul was taken by the devil in a furious confrontation between good and evil.  The once pious priest becomes the demonic priest. His curse is on Annabel for forsaking him to Lucifer and he pursues her through time as she taunts his beliefs and he reviles hers. As Annabel flees the devil’s fire she must take the bodies of those that the devil favors to protect her family. She must uncover the motive behind the illusive Ursula/Louis Boussidan, the scandalous cross-dresser who is pursuing her beautiful granddaughter, and she must learn, being one of God’s most powerful witches, how to use her power. But will it be enough to save her husband from Urbain’s fiery inferno? Will it be enough to save her children from demons greater than themselves?

 

 About the Author

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The first novel I ever wrote, Dancing Backward In Paradise, won an Eric Hoffer Award for publishing excellence and an Indie Excellence Award for notable new fiction, 2007. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater and Dancing Backward in Paradise received a 5 Star ForeWord Clarion Review and The Story of Sassy Sweetwater has been named a finalist for the ForeWord Book of the Year Awards. I have published in ESL Magazine, Christopher Street Magazine and I have also written early childhood curriculum for Weekly Reader and McGraw Hill.
The pen name for my fantasy and paranormal novels is Olivia Hardy Ray. There are two other books in the Annabel series, Annabel Horton and the Black Witch of Pau and Annabel Horton and the Demon of Loudun. Black Witch is book 2 in the series and should be published this year. Also penned by Olivia is my novel Pharaoh’s Star and my soon to be released, Pindar Corners.
Aside from Southern fiction and fantasy/paranormal fiction I write women’s fiction with two titles to be published in 2019 and my presently published Lies a River Deep.
As for pleasure I love wine, chocolate, dogs, cats and other creatures of the jungle. I also love to travel, read, write, watch films and go to theater. I value friendship, history, my enormously loving family and quiet times under a summer sun.
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