Virtual Book Tour: Into the Fire

Please welcome authors Lindsey Fairleigh and Lindsey Pogue, who are here to talk about their newest release, Into The Fire. They will be awarding a $15 Amazon GC to one random commenter during the tour. The more often you comment, the better your chances of winning. To find out the other stops on their tour, go here. Look for the rafflecopter at the end of this post!

INTO THE FIRE

by Lindsey Fairleigh and Lindsey Pogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

The Virus changed them, but that was only the beginning…

…death…mutation…insanity…corruption…terror…

…all that remains is hope.

In the wake of destruction left behind by the Virus, it took Dani and Zoe months to find each other. But their reunion was short-lived. Dani has been taken, and though little distance separates them, they might as well be worlds apart.

From the moment she hears Dani’s scream, Zoe’s only goal is to save her best friend. She and her companions scramble to come up with a rescue plan, but when a ghost from Jake’s past reappears, lines are blurred, decisions become harder, and secrets are revealed…and some secrets are best left buried. To keep heartache and fear from consuming her, Zoe must cling to her determination. She will see Dani again.

Dani awakens inside the final hold-out of civilization: the Colony. Remnants of the former world surround her—electricity, safety, social order—but all is not what it seems. As she faces her most manipulative adversary yet, she loses sight of who she is and who she can trust. Friends become enemies, enemies become allies, and allies will betray her.  Dani will have to decide what she’s willing to do and whose lives she’s willing to risk if she is to have any chance of breaking free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EXCERPT:

I froze. He’s leaving. I glared at Jake’s back, but feeling his misery, my anger quickly subsided. “We can figure something—”

“Stop!” He pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into the wall, denting it. “There’s nothing to figure out. My sister will not be used as a pawn.” His face fell. He leaned back and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

He’s already made up his mind. Instantly, I started to question everything about Jake and me…about us. My reservations from the first time I met him—the first time he saved me, opened his mouth, and pushed me away—flared to life, and I chided myself for being so naïve. I knew something like this would happen. 

The questions jumped off my tongue before I could contain them. “What about Dani? What about me? You’re just going to leave?”

When he didn’t respond, reality burst overhead like a looming storm cloud, clearing away the fog that had settled in my heart and mind. How could I have been so stupid?

The conversation we’d had on the dock back in St. Louis resurfaced from under a month’s-worth of foolhardy emotions. Jake’s words replayed in my mind.

“For whatever reason, I know you don’t want to let me in…or maybe you just don’t know how…what are you afraid of?”

This. This feeling of inexplicable loss was what I’d been afraid of—the living lump of hysteria swelling in my throat, the desperation in my heart. I couldn’t swallow it away.

Biting the inside of my cheek as hard as possible, I willed myself to calm down. Keep it together, Zoe.

Jake strode past me to Becca, pulling her up to her feet.

Lunging at him, I pushed against his chest as hard as I could. “You’re leaving?” He stumbled away from Becca, and I pushed him again. “You’re going to kill Dani!” I shoved against his shoulder. “You’re going to kill us all if you take her!” I smack his chest. “I won’t let you ruin everything.” I won’t let you break my heart! I pushed, shoved, and slapped him again and again. “You son of a bitch!” 

Jake gripped my arms firmly, immobilizing me and forcing me to look up at him. His eyebrows lifted with sympathy…or is it sorrow? I was too upset to differentiate between his emotions and mine.

“Let go,” I warbled.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a gunshot cracked through the air, and Jake yanked me down to the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Lindsey Fairleigh lives her life with one foot in a book—as long as that book transports her to a magical world or bends the rules of science. Her novels, from post-apocalyptic to time travel and historical fantasy, always offer up a hearty dose of unreality, along with plenty of adventure and romance. When she's not working on her next novel, Lindsey spends her time reading and trying out new recipes in the kitchen. She lives in the Napa Valley with her loving husband and confused cats.

Lindsey Pogue has always been a little creative. As a child she established a bug hospital on her elementary school soccer field, compiled books of collages as a teenager, and as an adult, expresses herself through writing. Her novels are inspired by her observations of the world around her--whether she's traveling, people watching, or hiking. When not plotting her next story line or dreaming up new, brooding characters, Lindsey's wrapped in blankets watching her favorite action flicks or going on road trips with her own leading man.

Links:

Website:  http://www.theendingseries.com/

Blog:  http://aftertheending-ae.blogspot.com/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/TheEndingSeries

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/AfterTheEnding

Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/series/99139-the-ending

Buy links:

Amazon: 

Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet

After The Ending (The Ending, #1) - http://www.amazon.com/After-Ending-ebook/dp/B00BJDUBLU

Barnes & Noble:

Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet

After The Ending (The Ending, #1) - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/after-the-ending-lindsey-fairleigh/1114702967

Smashwords:

Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet  

After The Ending (The Ending, #1) – not available yet

Kobo:

Into The Fire (The Ending, #2) - not available yet  

After The Ending (The Ending, #1) – not available yet

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Virtual Book Tour: The Gospel According To Prissy

Please welcome author Barbara Casey, who is going to tell us about her newest release, The Gospel According to Prissy.  Barbara will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. The more often you comment, the better your chances of winning. To see where else she's going to be, go here.

The Gospel According to Prissy

by Barbara Casey

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:

Three Army veteran misfits, a college dropout, an unmotivated high school graduate accused of murder, a controversial warden of a women's prison, and a little girl with the gift of prophesy – these are the people 31-year-old Lara Kruger invites into her life after suffering a miscarriage, a divorce from an abusive husband, and unemployment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EXCERPT:

Miriam walked away from her desk and paused in front of the unframed full-length mirror she had salvaged from the recent renovations in the women’s shower rooms.  The edges were chipped and blackened, and there was a fairly large crack that ran vertically from one corner to the other.  The condition of the mirror was the result, no doubt, of one of many displays of frustration and anger within the prison walls before she took over.  Still, the mirror served its purpose.  On those rare occasions when Warden Miriam Temple of the Braden Women’s Correctional Institution needed to be sure she looked her best, at least she could do so in the privacy of her own office.

Studying her reflection, she saw a tall, aging fifty-nine-year-old woman with dark hair streaked with gray cut in a simple shag, myopic brown eyes made evident by the wire-framed glasses, and a raw-boned body that could be considered well-proportioned if it weren’t for the fact that it was about twenty pounds on the heavy side, fifteen of which had settled around her thighs and buttocks.  “Pear shaped, as opposed to apple shaped,” she frequently reminded herself, “so that means at least I won’t die of a heart attack.”  The fact that her ear lobes were also plump and didn’t have the diagonal creases indicating some type of heart disease seemed to confirm that fact.  She didn’t know if these old-wives’ tales she had grown up with were really true, but she liked to keep an open mind, especially when they worked to her benefit.

She normally didn’t wear make-up, but this morning before leaving for work, she had dug out her small tapestry bag that held what few cosmetics she owned and applied a little blush and a touch of lipstick.  She rubbed one cheek with her hand now, thinking that maybe she shouldn’t have bothered.  She didn’t need to impress anyone.  Even if there had been the awkwardness that sometimes comes with being a large woman, it had been replaced years ago by the confidence born from a privileged background and the level of acceptance and comfort from which she viewed herself.

Her dark gray suit and crisp white blouse were clean and unwrinkled, thanks to the prison laundry facilities.  The plain black pumps she wore looked both practical and appropriate to complete the over-all appearance of discipline, control, strength, and above all, a positive attitude.  It was the attitude within the prison that Miriam had worked the hardest on when she took over as head warden six years earlier.  There had been a stifling wave of hopelessness and despair among the female inmates so thick it made it difficult to breathe.  This was manifested daily in brawls, food fights, and a behavior of non-compliance in general.  “Animals get treated better than we do,” had been the mantra at the prison.

For six years Miriam had been working fourteen-hour days, overseeing the operations of the facility, staying on top of problems, writing reports, and talking to every person she could reach about helping to set up programs for “her girls” as she referred to them.  Each of Miriam’s programs offered something to a few of her girls, but not to all, something she struggled with daily.  She constantly researched what other correctional institutions were doing not only in this country but other countries as well, trying to come up with new ways to stimulate her girls and help them feel enthusiastic about their lives.

It had worked.  She started getting noticed after the first year of her tenure.  Complaints from the prisoners dropped, a State audit confirmed that for the first time in over a decade the prison budget would be in the black, and the over-all appearance of the facility was vastly improved.  Government officials who previously had been reluctant to show interest now started to open doors for this hard-working, persistent, and obviously dedicated woman. 

And then Prissy had been born.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

           

Barbara Casey is president of the Barbara Casey Agency, representing adult fiction and nonfiction for authors throughout the United States, Great Britain, and Japan.  She is also the author of numerous articles, poems, and short stories.  Her award-winning novels have received national recognition, including the Independent Publishers Book Award, the Dana Award for Best Novel, and the Publisher’s Best Seller Award.  Her novel, The House of Kane, released in 2008, was considered for a Pulitzer nomination, and her novel Just Like Family received special recognition by the 7-Eleven Corporation.  Two other novels, The Gospel According to Prissy (released in the spring of 2013) and Shyla’s Initiative, both received an IPPY Award for Best Book in Regional Fiction. Her most recent young/new adult book, The Cadence of Gypsies, has been selected as an Amazon Best Read and received the 2013 IPPY Living Now Award.

In addition to being a frequent guest lecturer at universities and writers’ conferences, Ms. Casey served as judge for the Pathfinder Literary Awards in Palm Beach and Martin Counties, Florida, and was the Florida Regional Advisor for the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators from 1991 through 2003.

www.barbaracaseyagency.com

www.amazon.com

www.barnesandnoble.com

www.goodreads.com

www.authorsden.com

www.linkedin.com 

Wednesday Briefs: Trapped in Time II: Chapter Five

Happy Wednesday and welcome to more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers!

Today I bring you the next chapter in Trapped in Time II. Doll is intent on finding Vittorio as soon as possible, and he has an idea, but needs to talk to the others first. If he can keep Shaughnessey out of his hair! See what's happening in Chapter 5! And don't forget to visit the other Wednesday Briefers, whose links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Trapped in Time II: Chapter Five

I do not know how much time we will have for this lunch respite, so we must not waste any of it. Once we have all been given tin plates loaded with whatever is being served, I beckon to my group to join me and we take ourselves apart from the others, in order to confer. I try to ignore Shaughnessey. He’s looking right at me and his eyes hold an invitation I have no intention of accepting. I hope he gets the message and keeps his distance. Doesn’t he have some actors he needs to take care of? More important things to do than annoy me?

First, I must make amends to Myron for my slightly surly behavior.  All right, very surly behavior. I’ve had some time to think. There is little else to do while bouncing along on a cantering horse while evading the attentions of an overly amorous Irishman and trying not to fall off said horse at the same time.

 I’ve come to realize that perhaps Myron is not entirely to blame for our present situation. I can’t help but think that my Vittorio would not wish me to be angry with him, and I desire to please my love, even in his absence. I know Myron is only human, after all, and I hold fast to the belief that Vittorio is here, in the same time in which we exist. I feel that he is somewhere close at hand, in a location that is yet unknown to us, and we have but to find him. Which I shall do, no matter how long it takes, even if I must move heaven and hell to do so.

“Myron.” I take a deep breath and place my hand lightly on his arm. He inhales sharply and I see apprehension in his eyes. Charlie slides his arm about Myron’s waist and gives me his confident grin. It is good to know that Charlie realizes I mean no harm. “I am sorry I snapped at you. I don’t blame you for anything. I know you would not harm Vittorio in any way.”

“No, no, never,” he hastens to assure me. He sniffles, and I can feel his distress. I hold my hand out to him and he takes it in his own. Before I realize what has happened, Charlie has engulfed both of us in his embrace, and I know we are good once more.

We sit together as close as we can get. I’ve no wish to be overheard, as I am suspicious of Shaughnessey and I don’t know the other actors and don’t wish to. The fewer people who know of our magic, the better, I cannot help but think.

“Is something wrong, Doll?” Vati asks.

I shake my head. “No, but I did have an idea,” I confide, lowering my voice and glancing around. There is no one in sight, not even my new “friend”.  “I was wondering if perhaps you and Myron can perform a spell that will help us to locate Vittorio?”

Vati and Myron exchange glances while I await their reply. My heart is beating quickly, too quickly. I feel a hand on my knee. Glancing down, I see Mary looking up at me. I reach down and swing her up, onto my lap, holding on to her for comfort. She wraps her arms about my neck and chitters softly in my ear, as if trying to tell me all will be well. At least, that is how I interpret her sounds.

“One moment.” Vati holds up a finger toward me, then motions to Myron, who follows, as they huddle together and confer.  I close my eyes and bury my face against Mary’s soft fur. When I hear my father clear his throat, I hopefully look up.

“We think it is possible,” he pronounces and I breathe a soft sigh of relief.

Thank God. I send up a silent prayer of thanks.

“Do... do you have anything of Vittorio’s?” Myron asks anxiously.

I stop to think, but I’m afraid I don’t. We had little with us as it was, and everything that is his is on him. While I have the clothes that we were given by the kindly travelers, and little else. Most of what we had did not survive the journey through time. I shake my head regretfully, hoping that does not mean... I refuse to finish the thought, even to myself.

Another conference, but of shorter duration. “I still think we can do it,” Myron tells me. “Just give us a little time.”

“How long?” Any delay is painful to me, and probably just as painful to Vittorio, for he has no idea where we are, while at least we are together. I do not mean to be impatient, but my heart aches for him so much that I can barely stand it. I also miss our Kitty. I can only pray they are together.

“Tonight. We’ll do it tonight. Once everyone else is asleep.”

That is not so bad, right? “Okay, that is a good plan,” I assent, offering them a thumbs up. I can see that Myron seems relieved at my acceptance. My father leans down and hugs me.

“We shall find him, you shall see,” he assures me and, for a moment, I lean into his strength. Suddenly, I feel him look up and I follow his glance to find Shaughnessey striding in our direction.

“Not a word, please,” I implore him and Vati nods before he straightens up.

“We’re about ready to move on,” Shaughnessey says. “About ready?”

“Ja, ja, we are good,” Vati replies. “Let us clean up here and...”

I stop listening, moving to help Charlie and Myron take care of what the dishes we used for lunch.

“Doll not eat?” Charlie gives me a distressed look.

I shake my head. I have little appetite.

“Doll will find Vittorio.” He gives me a confident nod and a hug.

I hope he’s right.

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to:

JC Wallace

 Nephylim  

MA Church

A.R. Von

MC Houle 

 Elyzabeth VaLey   

Shelly Schulz

Rob Colton

Chris T. Kat

Cia Nordwell

Jon Keys

Tali Spencer

 Andrew Gordon

Renee Stevens

 Victoria Adams

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

A few random thoughts on my birthday and a Happy Birthday Blast!

It's hard to believe a year has passed and I'm another year older. I don't feel much different. We all have

aches and pains, but nothing major.  But there you go, passed it has and I'm a step closer to being sixty, although not there yet.

Sixty seems forbidding, but is it really? It's just a number, like any other.

So, how has this past year been? It's had its ups and downs, but on the whole I have to say I'm in a better place than I was on my last birthday. I have a more solid temporary job which might very well lead to a better position. This year, I got ripped off by another publisher (No Boundaries), but on the plus side, I was accepted by Torquere and eXtasy and published with both, Dreamspinner took a novella which comes out next year and Prizm picked up the Southern Comfort series that No Boundaries orphaned.  Plus, I was able to successfully sub When Will I See You Again to Amber Quill, after a nameless publisher sat on it for eight months, after repeatedly telling me I'd get an answer soon. Their loss.

Life isn't perfect - when is it ever? - but it's good, and I'm grateful for what I have and I'm happy with who I am.

So, let's celebrate, shall we? And the best way I  know how to celebrate is by having a giveaway!









I propose to give away two print copies of Revelations, and three ebooks. What do you have to do, you ask? It's simple! Follow my blog and comment on this post. Tell me something you've learned about me by reading any of my posts over the past year, whether it's as simple as what actor or actors I crush on, what I think of certain TV shows, or my newest historical obsession.

I'll pick the winners a week from tomorrow!

So, come on and let's party hearty!

Virtual Book Tour: Nymrod Resurrection

Please welcome author Hawk McKinney who is going to tell us about his newest release, Nymrod Resurrection. Hawk will be awarding a $20 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour. The more your comment, the better  your chances of winning. To find out where the other tour stops are, go here.

NYMROD RESURRECTION

By

Hawk McKinney

BLURB:  

Investigating an unlikely murder, Ex-SEAL and part time PI Craige Ingram discovers an officially sanctioned assassination.  His investigation quickly stirs beyond the dirty backrooms of the nation’s capital with more killings across Europe and the Middle East.  The dead woman is somehow connected to stolen artifacts from a time before Babylon.  As he probes apparently unconnected clues, he locks horns with an enigmatic enticing secret agent with her own agenda and her own way of doing things.  Craige faces train wrecks and deadly assassins doing business with a rich mercenary selling biotoxins, rare stamps, deadly nerve gases, and smuggled nuclear material to the highest bidder. As Craige peels away at the shadowy Operation Nymrod, he finds an elusive power-hungry dead-set mind – a driven obsession with a frightful arsenal of bioweapons ready to fulfill ancient prophecies with a very personal Armageddon that makes the monstrous last day of the twin towers of the World Trade Center pale in possibilities.

EXCERPT:  

            On the second-floor landing I spotted familiar faces from the department's forensic team.  The smell was worse inside.  With that first look I didn't need to be told that the pulpy lump with swollen pumpkin dimples where eyes should have been was one very bloated dead body.  The corpse was well into being recycled.  It no longer looked human.  The body had been cooking in the sweltering oven of a Dixie mid-August scorching summer in this dreary one-flight walkup of apartments with no AC and painted-shut windows.  Near the peeling paint archway and a worse kitchenette beyond I spotted Gray huddled with just over five feet plus, roly-poly Coroner-Medical Examiner Fred Dinkins.

            "What you got?" I asked.

            Gray indolently heaved a getting-paunchier fried chicken and beer belly and idly mumbled, "We’re not quite sure...." threw me that MacGerald we-got-trouble look.  "Right now all I know for sure is, it's no run-of-the-mill homicide."

            There was more in his look than his words.  It was all over his face that things weren't going the way he liked.  I’d known that from the moment I disconnected from his call.  He wouldn't have made the call for a squabble between drifters over street drugs or a grocery cart of scrounged throwaway clothes.  When a corpse is concealed, long term or otherwise and left to rot, decomposition can alter forensic evidence until it tells other stories—but not usually ones you want to hear.  Dinkins had his work cut out for him and his crew.  It’s one way perps buy themselves time, and concealment usually means there’s considerable more that went down.  In my wildest night-stalks I could never’ve imagined how right-on-the-money that would prove to be.  Ignorance is bliss…our SEAL team learned real quick. It can also get you killed.

            Without looking up Dinkins said, "One more pitiable devil that died alone.” Piercing blue eyes peered over his ever-present black wire-rim glasses perched unsteadily on the end of his nose.  In low-key measured words, "Prelim exam leads me to believe the corpse is female, but we'll wait till we get the body to the morgue, see what the autopsy and lab tests tell us.  I don’t want any second guessing the evidence. Besides, we’re about finished up here."

            The dreary apartment was busier than it’d seen in decades with double shifts of the forensic techs bustling-sorting the whens and hows of death.  The cracker box kitchen adjoined a corner next-to-nothing squalid dinette area furnished with a dirty Masonite wobbly table barely big enough for two.  In the front room the melon-round, no-neck head squatted square on the bloated chest of the oozing corpse.  The whole misshapen inhuman mess had sagged into the soggy sofa.

AUTHOR INFORMATION:

With postgraduate degrees and faculty appointments in several medical universities, Hawk MacKinney has taught graduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem. In addition to professional articles and texts on chordate neuroembryology, Hawk has authored several works of fiction.

Hawk began writing mysteries for his school newspaper. His works of fiction, historical love stories, science fiction and mystery-thrillers are not genre-centered, but plot-character driven, and reflect his southwest upbringing in Arkansas, Texas and Oklahoma. Moccasin Trace, a historical novel nominated for the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award, details the family bloodlines of his serial protagonist in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series… murder and mayhem with a touch of romance. Vault of Secrets, the first book in the Ingram series, was followed by Nymrod Resurrection, Blood and Gold, and The Lady of Corpsewood Manor. All have received national attention.  Hawk’s latest release in the Ingram series is due out this fall with another mystery-thriller work out in 2014. The Bleikovat Event, the first volume in The Cairns of Sainctuarie science fiction series, was released in 2012.

"Without question, Hawk is one of the most gifted and imaginative writers I have had the pleasure to represent. His reading fans have something special to look forward to in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series. Intrigue, murder, deception and conspiracy--these are the things that take Hawk's main character, Navy ex-SEAL/part-time private investigator Craige Ingram, from his South Carolina ancestral home of Moccasin Hollow to the dirty backrooms of the nation's capital and across Europe and the Middle East."

Barbara Casey, President

Barbara Casey Literary Agency

www.hawkmackinney.net

www.amazon.com

www.barnesandnoble.com

Amazing news, sex researchers, headless horsemenand more

First, the news. I'm still in a state of disbelief, but happily so. Only six days after subbing When Will I See You Again to Amber Quill, I received its acceptance. To say I am happy would be a gross understatement! Plus, it's coming out in early February, how amazing is that? First the ebook, and then the print within a few weeks! To the publisher who sat on it for over eight months and said they were interested only to drop the ball, I say thank you, for now I am glad I did not go with you. I look forward to working with Amber Quill, and hope this is just the start of a great relationship!

Before I move on, let me show you again my vision of Raoul, from WWISYA.

A few weeks ago, I began watching Masters of Sex on Showtime, which is about the sex researchers,

Masters & Johnson. I wasn't sure what to expect but I decided to give it a try and I'm very glad I did. Michael Sheen plays William Masters and Lizzie Caplan is Virginia Johnson. The series begins where they did - in St. Louis, at Washington University. It was exciting to see they used actual exteriors of the university! Beau Bridges plays the provost, Barton Scully, whose wife is played by Allison Janney.

I'm seriously enjoying this series and look forward to it every week as we delve into both the sex study for which they are known as well as their personal lives and those of the people around them. That was not an easy time in which to do this, certainly, as repressive as society was, and I applaud them for being pioneers in their field. I would definitely buy this on DVD, a real keeper!




On a different note, Fox has brought us a show that at first I wasn't sure they'd do well, but my fears were

allayed in the first episode. Sleepy Hollow is a new twist on an old story. Tom Mison plays Ichabod Crane, who dies in 1781 at the hands of the Hessian, and is brought back to life 250 years later, along with his sworn foe, the headless horseman. In this time, he meets Abby Mills, a young police officer who has just lost her mentor, Sheriff Corbin (played by Clancy Brown of Carnival). There is more to Abby than meets the eye, and she has reasons to believe this man with his strange tale. Unlike her captain, who is played by Orlando Jones.

Rather than just one villain, in the form of the well-known headless horseman, we have more, as the horseman, who is Death, is but one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. And Ichabod and Abby are the witnesses who must prevent the End of Days.

This show is fascinating and well done. It blends historical with fantasy in a marvelous way. And it doesn't hurt that Tom Mison is very easy on the eyes. Just wow! Add Abby's sister to the mix, who has been locked up for refusing to recant what she saw as a young girl, and a former cop who won't stay dead, and you've got quite the story. James Frain appeared in one episode as a Freemason.  I love this series and hope it lasts for a long, long time.









I know I promised I'd talk about Grimm and Hawaii 5-0, plus some cooking shows, but I really need to get busy. I have edits for other people to do, plus I want to work on No Way Out, and Stan and Ollie, and we have to do our errands today. Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow to talk some more. Have a great day!

Until next time, take care!

♥Julie

Wednesday Briefs: Trapped in Time II: Chapter 4

Happy Hump Day one and all! Looks like winter is fast approaching, brrrr! Crossing my fingers that snow will be at a minimum and ice non-existent! In the meantime, let's enjoy some flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers, shall we?

Last week, as you'll recall, Doll was really annoyed by the Irish actor. Wonder if he improves with age? Guess we'll find out in today's episode! And don't forget to see what the other Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Trapped in Time II: Chapter 4

The next morning, shortly after first light, we resume our journey. I admit to being surprised that the actors are willing to rise with the sun. I had presumed them to have a preference for sleeping in due to the nature of their profession. But they seem as anxious to be on our way as we do.

I have given the matter much consideration and have decided that once we reach the town toward which we travel I shall take Frederick and begin my search for Vittorio. Just where I shall search, I have not decided. Perhaps it would be wise to first find a map of this country we travel through. That will give me a better idea of where to look, I think.

I had intended to confide my plans to my father, assuming I would be traveling with him. But Fate has other ideas for me, I fear—sometimes I feel as though I have become embroiled in a vengeful vendetta, one that is determined to keep me from my love. I push such thoughts aside as serving no useful purpose. Vittorio and I shall be together again, that I promise.

By the time I have cleaned up our campsite of all trace of our passage, I find that travel arrangements have already been made. My father is to ride inside the first wagon, Myron and Charlie and Mary in the second, along with our provisions, such as we have. And I am given Frederick to ride.

At first, I am unsure of the wisdom of this decision. After all, I have never ridden anything but my pennyfarthing, which is not the same thing at all. Shaughnessy places a saddle onto Frederick, for my benefit, and a pair of stirrups. But when he offers to help me up, my face grows warm and I growl at him. I will mount the horse under my own steam; I do not need his assistance. He does not seem offended by my attitude. He gives me an amused glance and rides away.

I am not as naïve as some might think, and I can discern his intentions toward me, which are not welcome. As far as I am concerned, he is as alien to me as any of the creatures in a novel by the talented H.G. Wells himself.  Perhaps less so, if that is possible.

I think I know the theory behind riding a horse, so I decide to put it into practice.

I slide my left foot into one of the stirrups, but when I begin to add my body weight, the horse shifts and so do I and I end up flat on my rump on the ground.  Grumbling, I rise, dust myself off and try again. And again I find myself sitting amongst the nettle-like plants on the ground. They seem to have taken a liking to me, adhering to my trousers and prickling my sensitive areas.

“The wee beastie seems to have a mind of his own.”

When did he return? I am as annoyed with myself for not hearing his approach as I am with him for being here.

Without waiting for my permission, he dismounts from his own steed and approaches Frederick. He strokes him gently and whispers something into his ear, something I cannot hear. Frederick whinnies softly and shakes his head, but he stands quietly, allowing himself to be soothed by the actor’s voice.

“Try now,” Shaughnessey suggests. Like I couldn’t think of that myself. I keep my thoughts to myself, and place my foot in the stirrup once more. Cautiously I place my weight on it. Frederick does not move, so I throw my right leg across the saddle and settle into it with a relieved sigh.

“There you go.” Shaughnessey reaches up and hands me the reins, along with a cheeky wink. But before I can respond, or tell him where he can take his ideas, he has returned to his steed and mounted, riding quickly toward the wagon train, which is already well on its way. I suspect if I do not catch up quickly, he will return to check on my progress, and that I do not wish to have happen.

I’ve seen enough western films to know how those cowboys ride their horses, so I softly press my heel against Frederick’s flank, cluck to him and softly pull on the reins. To my relief, he begins to move, in the proper direction, and then he begins to canter, and I am happy to report that I do not fall off.

The sun is well into the sky and it seems as though we have been traveling forever, but I know that is not so, it only feels that way, when Shaughnessey calls a halt and decides that it is time for lunch. That is a welcome announcement. I’m more than ready to touch the ground again with my own two feet. I have long ago lost any sensation in my hindquarters. I am grateful for Charlie’s help in dismounting.

“Doll hurt?” He gives me a sympathetic look, and I nod at him. Vati approaches, once the wagons have stopped, and he seems concerned, but I reassure him that I am fine. My father does not need to worry about me, but I am glad that he does, nonetheless.

I receive a pleasant surprise in that I do not need to cook, as we are invited to be guests of the troupe. At the moment, I am grateful to simply relax and let the blood rush back into my legs. Besides, there is something I wish to talk to my father about... and Myron. Yes, I do need to ask him something, as I’ve had an idea, so I must set aside my anger with him for now.

Rather than randomly search for my Vittorio, it occurs to me that perhaps they can harness the power of science and magic. That’s the least Myron can do.

to be continued

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Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie