Tag Archives: writing

Author Interviews: S. C. McCole

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Author S.C. McCole

Author S.C. McCole

Let’s give a warm round of applause to today’s author, S.C. McCole. McCole is a vagabond tapping tales on his iPad everywhere he travels. When he finally gets back to Peachtree City, GA, it’s nap time with his wonderful wife and two dogs, refresh the bags, then back on the road again! He can often be found hiding out in one of these boxes:  Ghost Writer | Shark Diver | Metal Guitarist | Dog Lover | Runner | Hubby | Dad |.

Thank you S.C. for joining us today. Let’s get right to the questions, shall we?

1. Favorite Hobby?

Oh, so many to choose from! Some people say they can’t retire because they’d be bored out of their skulls. I can’t wait. I have way too many hobbies (and bucket-list-items); I’d never be bored.

Shark-swimmin’, song-playin’, sword-collectin’, spirit-summonin’, Survivor-preppin’ (the TV show not bunker-hoardin’ lol)… but, if you’re making me pick just one, it would have to be story-readin’. I could spend my first year in retirement just page-turnin’ my way through the to-read shelf, starting with the Bhagavad Gita.

2. Who would I spend the afternoon with?

The greatest man that ever lived: My Dad. Fate stole my opportunity for a sit-down in-depth conversation with him and I have so many things I’d want to discuss.

3. Coffee, tea, soda, or something else?

I love this topic. Big fan of imbibing! Depends on the moment:
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– I drink Dunkin’ Donuts coffee with half & half religiously every morning. I grind my own beans, and use filtered water—ok, I’m a bit OCD.

– When I’m home, I drink several spots-o-tea with the wife in the evening—mostly bagged herbal, floral, or green, though sometimes we brew from a fresh mix (Champagne Rose is our fave). Also, living in the South, I’m required to drink iced tea—unsweetened, because I’m a northern intruder, heh.

– Alcohol, on occasion, as a social lubricant. My go-to is a Crown & Diet Coke w Lime. Beer: I like anything interesting and not too hoppy. My fave is a Belgian Grimbergen Blonde or a pint of Murphy’s. But, a good margarita is hard to beat when I’m on vacation (rim salted please).

– For all other times I’m a big fan of water. I drink a lot of it. It does the body good!
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– One rule for liquids: I never use a sweetener. I’m scared it may spoil my finely-crafted curmudgeoness!

4. What am I working on right now?

Writing: I’m in the draft phase of my first novel—Black Friday, an urban fantasy thriller featuring the heroine Kali Stone. The book begins a series, which is the first in a group of chronological series based in a supernatural, apocalyptic world I’ve been developing the last few years. It’s an ambitious blueprint. I hope my hobbies leave me time to do it justice!

Craft: Lately, much to the chagrin of my novel, I’m spending quite a bit of time launching a new fiction writer’s resource. It’s a newsletter/blog where I put my 25 years as an investigator on the line to crack the code of publishing today. It’s all free, interactive, no-holds-barred info. That project is launching soon.

5. How would I describe my writing style?

My style of writing is: FAST HEAT.

I created this acronym to explain that I strive to be FAST (Fearless;
Authentic, Sexy; True) and deliver the HEAT (a story that is: Hot; Exposed; Adventurous; Thrilling).

6. Advice for a new writer?

“Do or Do Not. There is no TRY.” ~ Yoda.
“Even if it’s crap, just get it on the page.” ~ my coffee mug.

7. Where do my writing ideas come from?

The most fertile breeding grounds for my ideas are Titles. I start by brainstorming an intriguing plot nugget (usually the inciting incident or the final showdown) then I wrack my noggin for a working title before I begin a detailed outline. Once I start writing the title often changes, but I need to start with one that thrills me.

In college, I majored in Architecture, so I’m a planner when it comes to art. Since I have a master blueprint for my fiction, my plot nuggets are usually inspired by the world foundation I’ve built. But, my current novel wasn’t part of that original plan—it was born out of necessity. I was enrolled in James Patterson’s MasterClass and needed to submit a thriller plot, so I extracted a nugget from my current profession (in anti-terrorism) and created the plot of Black Friday. It wasn’t intended to be a series or even part of my world, but I’ve since morphed it to fit into the greater structure.

Last, but certainly not least, one of my bucket-list writing ideas comes from my dad. At bedtime, he would spin a fascinating yarn with some crazy characters he made up. Those memories are very special to me. So, for my future grandchildren, I plan to write a series of bedtime stories based upon my dad’s characters. That will be my tribute to him and my our legacy.

8. Where can I be found online?
Come chat with me on Facebook: fb.com/SCMcCole or Twitter @SCMcCole. I’ll be sharing the release of my upcoming investigative report site in those hangouts. Cheers!
Thank you so much for sharing with us today, S.C. We appreciate your time. Good luck on your release of Black Friday.

So, gentle readers, stop on by S.C.s facebook and say hello.

 

Wrapping Up October: Monday Blog Post

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Fall Color

Fall Color

Newest News:

Oh my Gosh! It’s the last full week of October. Are you planning on attending any parties this coming weekend? Hubby and I are. I’m going as a Ghost Buster. Fun! I’ll try and post a pic in next Monday’s blog post.

If you follow me on Pinterest, twitter, Facebook, Instagram or other sites, you’ll see some changes. If you don’t follow me on those sites, why not? You can find all my links here.

National Novel Writing Month

National Novel Writing Month

In my efforts to prep for November’s National Novel Writing month I’ve been writing blog posts (not the Monday posts) and newsletters and my flash fiction Friday stories in advance and scheduling them to be sent out on the appropriate days. That means even if I’m deep into Tested, my 4th Brown Rain series book, you don’t miss out on those free Friday stories or my Chicklets in the Kitchen post at all.

troubled-streets-graphic-meme-004

Troubled Streets is out! Hooray! It’s already up on Amazon, both as an ebook and as a paperback. It’s also now up on Kobo and Barnes and Noble. See my links at the end of this newsletter. I’m very excited to have the 1st book about Zoe Ohale out and into reader hands. As always, if you get it, I’d appreciate it if you could take 5 minutes and give me a review.

Giveaways:

spooktacular-author-giveaway

The Halloween Author Group Giveaway is still going until the end of the month. You can find the Rafflecopter link on my website. You do have to sign up to Rafflecopter but after that, you’re free to click away. I have links to it on my facebook and twitter pages, too. This giveaway I offer a free ebook, Recall, or for second prize, a copy of my Halloween Tales ebook. Over a hundred prizes from 30 authors plus a grand prize of $100 Paypal Cash. It’s not hard to enter, there are multiple ways to enter, and it doesn’t cost you anything. You could easily win a prize. If you haven’t entered yet, enter today and every day!

13-days-of-halloween

I’m also going to be on Facebook for an event called Thirteen Days of Halloween. From the 19th, a number of us authors have been on the event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/1103648499703425. Scroll all the way to the bottom to See All Discussions. I’ll be on the site on the 31st at 6pm Eastern time. Yes, I’ll remind you next Monday. I’ll have some giveaways myself but don’t wait for me. The group I’m working with have some event prizes as well as the individual prizes the authors are giving out during their hour. So stop on by. There’s a complete list of the author schedule under About as you scroll down the event page in the Details. Find some new to you authors today!

 

 

Shout Out:

Author S.C. McCole

Author S.C. McCole

Author S.C. McCole is on tap to talk to us during my author interview on Wednesday. A multi-talented person and world-traveler. If you can’t wait, you can find him on facebook at facebook.com/SCMcCole.

Garden News:

I watered the lemon tree and the bay leaf tree and my jade plant since we haven’t had rain in weeks. I’m tired of the garden at this point. I should take some time this week and clean it all up before the November NaNo madness. The question is, will I have the gumption or not? How about you? Is your garden clean-up done or do you still have some growing season left?

Where Will I Be?:

matfatdogearedpagesbookstore

The wonderful people at Dog-Eared Pages Book store (http://www.dogearedpagesusedbooks.com/) were kind enough to put a few of my Mystery at the Fair books on their shelves. If you’re in Phoenix, stop by the shop and say hi to the nice people there.

Newsletter Sign Up:

Click here to sign up for my newsletter. I sent one out on Sunday with all kinds of news. I’ve put sign-up prizes on both the regular and the Brown Rain newsletter sign-ups. That’s right. If you sign up for my newsletter you get a free story from me. Be prepared for fun and contests! Click on the video link for a short video from me. Hear what I’m working on. Join my “A” Team to be the first to read my books and hear what new books are coming.

Newest Book Release:

troubled-streets

Troubled Streets released on October 15th! I’m pretty excited about it. You can buy it and my other books at: Apple, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Smashwords, Gumroads or Chatebooks today! I’m still getting it loaded onto Gumroad and Chatebooks. You can also see all my books on www.ConniesRandomThoughts.com. If you’ve read any of my books, please drop a short, honest, review on the site where you bought it or on Goodreads. It’s critical to help me promote the books to other readers. Thanks in advance.

Waterfall: Flash Fiction Friday Post

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Waterfall

Waterfall

Cora ran from the house, her father’s drunken rage following her with the sounds of furniture and crockery smashing. As she ran through the forest, her father’s curses faded until, gasping for breath, the only sounds were the wind in the trees and the birds and insects. She dropped to the leaf-littered forest floor and rested, arms on her knees and her forehead on her arms. Why does he do it? Raging when he comes home from the village pub only to apologize the next morning and set to work repairing whatever he’d broken. It made no sense to her.

She flopped back to stare up through the leaves of the oak providing her a dappled shade. It was a beautiful day out here in the forest. Why couldn’t she stay out here? Away from her father. Away from the drudgery. That reminded her she’d left the washtub full of Anna Reed’s washing in the back yard. Cora sighed. Anna was the new priest’s wife, dainty and of ill-health. It was easy washing, the priest and his wife didn’t do hard work so their clothing was practically clean already and the coins the wash brought in helped keep Cora and her father in food and supplies for the winter. That is when papa didn’t give it to the pub-keeper.

Another sigh escaped. By the time she got back, papa would be collapsed across his pallet, sound asleep. She could finish the wash then clean up the mess in the house. But she didn’t move. Cora stared up at the clouds, drifting across the blue sky. She could feel herself relaxing, her mind drifting as her body felt as though it were becoming one with the earth.

“Miss, don’t do that.”

Cora jerked, her mind snapping back. She sat up. A small girl stood a few feet away, staring at her. But no, not a girl, a very small woman, dressed in shades of green, her staff hardly a foot high. “Why not?”

The woman shrugged. “Well, I suppose you can if you want to, but you’d get pulled into the earth spirit realm.”

“Is that bad?”

“You wouldn’t be able to come back.”

Cora nodded. “It seemed peaceful.”

The woman took a few steps toward Cora. “It is, for humans. At least at first. Then unless you really are looking for peace, it is too slow, confining. A human spirit doesn’t usually have the temperament for being an earth spirit.”

“Oh. No, I expect not. We do like to move around. I’m Cora.”

“Nice to meet you, Cora. I’m Lavendar. Fairy.”

A fairy! “I’ve heard stories about fairies.”

“Good ones I hope.”

“Yes, though mischievous, too. But mostly nice.”

“You were feeling sad. Angry, too. I could sense you from a long distance. Is that why you were moving into the earth?”

“I was angry, and sad. But I wasn’t thinking about sinking into the ground. That was just happening. I just didn’t want to go home.”

“Why not?” Lavendar sat down beside Cora.

Cora told the fairy about her father. “So you see, I don’t know what to do about it.”

“That would be a problem.” The fairy tapped her fingers on one of the fallen oak leaves, then jumped up. “Follow me. I have an idea.”

Cora nodded and followed the fairy for several miles until they entered a small glade. A pool was at the center, the water’s surface still and reflecting the woods around it. On the north edge a small waterfall, only about three feet high, poured water into the pool. A stream on the southwest side let the water out with hardly a sound. She looked into the pool. The water was so clear she could see the sandy bottom and tiny fish swimming. “It’s lovely.”

“One of my favorite spots. But it’s the waterfall that I brought you to see.” She led Cora to the falls where a flat stone stuck up out of the water at the edge of the pool. The fairy stepped onto the rock and she motioned for Cora to do the same.

“The water as it falls is magic. Once a year you may come and cup your hands and drink from the falls. As you drink, make a wish or visualize a dream, and it will come true.”

“Oh, my.” Cora stared at the water flowing from the ledge to the pool. It was mesmerizing as the water caught the sunlight and sparkled. “What should I wish for?”

“Whatever you want. But take care. Think about the consequences of your wish.”

Cora thought about her father, reeking of ale, face distorted into something horrific, smashing the bowls and chairs. Her stomach knotted with the remembered fear. “I can make a wish now?”

Lavendar nodded. “It will be this year’s wish. You’ll get no other until next year.”

“Fair enough.” Cora held out her cupped hands and in a moment, they were full of water. She drank, her eyes closed.

“What did you wish for?”

Cora stepped back onto the bank. “For my father not to be a drunkard.”

Lavendar nodded and led Cora back to her hut marking the way so Cora could return. “Farewell, Cora,” the fairy said at the hut. “Take care.”

“I will.” Cora went into the hut.

A year later, Lavendar met Cora at the pool. “How did your wish turn out.”

Cora burst into tears. “Papa died over the winter.”

“What happened?”

“Without the drink, Papa just got sadder and sadder. One night he went out and didn’t come back. The woodcutter found him in the forest, frozen to death.”

“I am so sorry, Cora.” The fairy hugged the girl.

“The priest told me papa came to him. Papa drank to forget. Without it, the guilt of losing Mama was too much. It’s all my fault Papa is dead. Now I have no parents. You were right. I didn’t know the consequences.”

“We never do.”

 

 

Thank You!

993 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Interrupted 2: Friday Flash Fiction Post

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Revolution: last book in the Gulliver Station Cover Reveal by Connie Cockrell

Revolution: last book in the Gulliver Station by Connie Cockrell

See Interrupted 6/17/16

She changed her lunch spot from the grocery store because the same guy figured out her routine and began approaching her every day, no matter how often she told him she wasn’t interested. Apparently her appearance was encouragement enough.

So now, even though the selection of lunch items was limited to three pre-made and wrapped sandwiches and two soups, cream of mushroom and vegan vegetable, she spent her lunch hour at Bectie’s Tea and Coffee. It seemed the patrons of Bectie’s understood that someone with a book or working on their pads, were engaged and not interested in conversation.

She settled into the café chair, tuna salad and a slice of lemon cake beside her, Caramel Macchiato at hand, and opened her new book, Jania, Princess of Taria.

Janie yelled as the ship lurched. “Fire all weapons!”

The ship shuddered as all six guns blasted, the gyro’s barely able to stabilize the craft as the gunners complied.

“Princess!” Admiral Rayquil grabbed the back of her command chair. “The Peet fleet is too powerful – they outnumber our ships four to one.”

Jania slammed her fist onto the arm of the chair. He’s right. They’ve already destroyed half of my ships. “Order a retreat.” She could feel the slow burn of anger and shame but it was better to fall back and regroup than be destroyed.

“Fleet!” Admiral Rayquil shouted over the sparking and explosions of the bridge consoles. “Prepare to….”

“Hey there!”

She jerked with the shock of the enthusiastic greeting and the sound of metal chair legs dragging across the tile floor. She blinked as she dragged her consciousness across the galaxies to the reality of Bectie’s.

The guy, twenty-five at her guess, hipster hat on his head and a goatee that needed several more months to actually fill in, dropped into the chair opposite her and settled his clear plastic cup – a latte by the look of it – on the table. He stuck out his hand. “Brandon.”

She resisted her manners in politeness and stared at him. “Do I know you?”

His hand remained suspended over the table. She looked around. Every table had someone at it. All of the other customers were male. Of course. “Why are you here?”

Brandon’s grin fell away with his hand, which grabbed his cup and gave a little salute with it. “Best latte in town.” He glanced at her cup–opaque paper so no real way to tell what was in it. The look was his question as to what she was drinking but she was in no mood to satisfy his curiosity.

“I’m here to eat my lunch and read in peace.” She waved at the other tables. “You should make friends at another table.” She opened her book and stared at the pages, eyes skimming the ink on the page but no reading. Waiting.

He twisted out of the chair, legs scraping, and grabbed his latte. “Bitch.” He stomped out of the shop.

She sighed. She just wanted to read her book and eat her lunch. Was that so wrong? She took a bite of her sandwich—the joy of starting her new book spoiled.

“Don’t feel bad.” Bectie appeared at the table, wiping down the half where Brandon had sat. “Happens all the time.”

That did make her feel better. “Thanks.” She sipped her macchiato and took another bite.

Bectie gave her a wink and went back to the counter.

She reopened her book.

“Prepare to disengage.” The ship was hit with another volley from the Peet.

“Disengage!”

 

 

Thank You!

589 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

 

Ego and Punishement: Friday Flash Fiction Post

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Skeleton Keys by Livefast_x via DeviantArt.com

Skeleton Keys by Livefast_x via DeviantArt.com

This is based on a Chuck Wendig prompt. FLAMBOYANT ELF DRUID FROM THE FREELANDS WHO IS QUICK TO TAKE CREDIT AND ASSIGN BLAME. Let’s see what I can do in 1000 words or less.

Picture: Skeleton Keys by Livefast_x via www.deviantart.com http://www.deviantart.com/art/Skeleton-Keys-130788426

Elanda pulled her cornflower-blue robe around her against the cold winter night. It had been too hot and smoky in the pub for her, especially filled with the stench of dwarf and man. The robe sparkled in the quarter moon’s light, enough to mark her as elf to any passer-by. Not an easy target.

She headed to her room. It was obvious no messenger would reach her this night. She’d watched the guards lock the city gates hours ago after she’d sat there all day waiting, watching the endless line of humans, dwarves and the occasional elf, pay their duty and enter. A complete waste of her time. The pub’s wine and stew sat heavy on her stomach. Not the fine food and drink of her queen’s castle, certainly. Elanda wished briefly to be back with the Queen, her twice removed aunt, but shoved the thought away.

That double damned Marowal had goaded her until she’d lost her temper and the Queen sent her on this mission. She pulled a glamor over herself to further discourage any would be thieves. The tall elf with black hair braided down his back had deliberately angered her. There was nothing she could do about it now, but wait until she returned. Thoughts of revenge filled her mind as she entered the miserable inn. The owner never woke as she passed. In her room she barred the door and the window and set a fire in the tiny stove. It was enough to take the chill out of the air, at least. Not much else could be said for the room, barely wide enough to hold the cot she’d sleep in.

An elf sat on the bed. She started, why hadn’t she seen him? It was Marowal.

“Milady Elanda.”

“Marowal.” Her tone with the young prince was cold. “I waited all day.”

He stood and stepped to the stove, holding his hands above it for the little heat it generated. “I was delayed.”

“I waited at the gate all day.” She swished the skirt of her robe in frustration. “Drinking wine near to spoiling and eating the human’s dried out fruit. Where were you?”

He smiled. A grin that made her want to slap him. “As I said, delayed.”

“Did you find the key?” Would the prince never get to the point?

“I did. And information. I’ll need your help.”

“I was sent to get the key. Nothing else.” Elanda held out her hand.

Marowal shook his head. “It won’t be that easy. The key is worthless. Unless we also get the chest it unlocks.”

“The queen sent me for the key. Just that.” She tucked her hands into the sleeves of her robe. It was obvious the prince would not give her the key.

“We’ll ride to Timate and get the chest.”

“Timate! That’s five days west.”

“We’ll leave at first light.”

#

Elanda was on horseback, gloves doing little to keep her fingers warm, an hour before the winter sun rose over the city walls. Marowal had paid the night guard who’d let them out early and they were on their way. Elven horses went fast and silent and the pair covered many miles by the end of the day. They camped in the woods. Marowal brought back a rabbit as Elanda started a fire. She grumbled as she cleaned the rabbit and set it on the spit. “I had no plan to winter camp, Marowal.”

“I beg your pardon.” He bowed from his lounge on his sleeping bag. “You wouldn’t want to go back to the queen with just half the prize, would you?”

“I don’t have the key. You do. I can’t go back at all.” She detested the smirk on his face.

“We’ll go back together, then. Victorious.”

For a cousin he was less than helpful or friendly. “Why drag me along?”

“You’ll see.”

She fumed but there was little she could do about it.

#

They arrived at Timate mid-day and entered the city. He dragged her back and forth across the town, talking to men and dwarves in whispers. At nightfall, she’d had enough. “What are we doing?”

He pointed at the clock tower in the town square. “you’ll enter the tower, climb to the top, and at the stroke of nine, create a flash in the window. That’s a signal to the owner of the chest to go to a stable at the edge of town. I’ll pay him for the chest and we’ll be away through the gate before the soldiers close it for the night.”

“You trust this owner?”

Marowal shrugged. “We’ll see.”

She was in the window right on time. Fury flowed through her at the childish cloak and dagger antics of the prince. The bell, when it struck, was painful but she made the flash, child’s play, really, then hurried back down the tower to the stable where this mysterious chest would be delivered.

Once there, Marowal was nowhere to be found. She created a finding, but the magic didn’t find him.

She spent months combing the countryside in search until giving up, she went back to the queen.

The court was in full attendance when she was presented, no chance to rest or bathe. She stopped halfway across the hall and gasped. Marowal was sitting at his mother’s feet playing with a kitten. Rage propelled her across the floor. Her bow was perfunctory.

“Majesty. I beg forgiveness for my delay. I’ve been searching for the Prince.” She glared at him, getting a grin in return.

“I do understand, Elanda. But as you can see, he’s returned.”

Elanda could hear twitters of laughter behind her. She bowed her head. “Of course, Majesty. I hope you obtained the key.”

“Oh yes,” the Queen pulled it from her dress, as a necklace. “It makes a nice ornament, doesn’t it?”

She blushed as the court laughed. A punishment, she realized, at her expense. Let them laugh. She smiled at Marowal. He’d get his in time.

 

Thank You!

1000 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Found: Key, Part X of X – Friday Flash Fiction Post

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Skeleton Keys by Livefast_x via DeviantArt.com

Skeleton Keys by Livefast_x via DeviantArt.com

Part X of X http://www.deviantart.com/art/Skeleton-Keys-130788426 by LiveFast-x

NOTE: This final installment is a little longer than the usual flash piece. Enjoy.”

 

Ying opened the door to the antique shop. “You’ll love this place.”

“I already love it. It’s where I met you!” Jason kissed her cheek as he entered.

Inside, Eleanor was at the counter cashoug out a customer. She nodded at Ying, acknowledging her presence. In the background, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata played. It was a little heavy for Ying’s taste but played as softly as it was, it made for a relaxing stroll around the store. Ying inhaled the scent of lemon polish and bees was, detectable but not overwhelming. It provided her a feeling of quiet and comfort.

Jason stopped inside the door and looked around. Ying couldn’t help noticing, even with her annoyance at being manipulated, how nice he looked in his Dockers and polo shirt.

“I can see why you like it here. Lovely things surround you.” He turned and smiled. “Have you bought anything yet?”

“Not yet.” She threaded her arm through his, the one with the watch, and led him to the Chinese screen she’d noticed on her first visit. “What do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous! What are you waiting for?”

Ying shrugged. “It’s kind of pricey.”

“Nonsense. You should get it. It’s perfect.” He dropped her arm and stepped to the screen to examine it.”

Eleanor joined Ying. “Hello.”

“Eleanor. You’ve met Jason.”

Jason stepped away from the screen and held out his right hand, the watch clearly visible on his bare wrist. “Nice to meet you under better circumstances.”

“Yes. It is.” She glanced at his watch. “What a lovely watch.”

He pulled his hand back, left hand covering the watch. “Thank you. A family heirloom.”

Eleanor exchanged glances with Ying. “Would you mind if I looked at it? Professional interest, you know.”

Ying thought he looked uncomfortable. He spun the watch around his wrist several times. She was waiting for the rush of warmth but it never came. Jason was looking at Eleanor, who suddenly looked confused.

“Eleanor?” Ying put her hand on her friend’s arm.

Eleanor gave herself a little shake and smiled at Jason. “I won’t damage it, I promise.”

It was Jason’s turn to look confused. He glanced at the watch.

“Go ahead, Jason. She’s an expert.”

His eyes met hers, then back to Eleanor’s. “Umm, I suppose.” His reluctance to unclasp the ltach and hand the watch to Eleanor was obvious in his slow movements. Jason lay the watch in Eleanor’s outstretched palm.

Eleanor hefted the watch. “Gold, I presume?”

Jason nodded. “It was my great-great-great-grandfather’s.”

“The style is certainly old. Let me get my lupe.” Eleanor turned and strode to the counter.

Ying watched Jason dart after Eleanor as though she were stealing the watch. That was inconclusive proof that the watch was magic. He would do the same if it were simply what he claimed. She followed them to the counter.

Eleanor had laid the watch out on a square of black velvet. Jason’s hands hovered at the edge of the cloth. Ying had to admit it was a handsome watch. The face, also gold, had gold hands elaborately pointed and engraved. The face had what looked like diamons at 12, 3, 6 and 9 with the following numbers in ruby and the last four numbers in emeralds. Mystic symbols were engraved on the face. The antique dealer fixed her lupe to her eye and without touching it, examined the watch closely. She already had her book of artifacts open on the counter beside the watch.

“It’s a beautiful piece, late 1800’s? It must have cost a great deal. Watches for men were only just coming into style.”

Jason nodded. “No one ever said how much it cost.” His voice was tight – as though having the watch on the counter was painful.

Ying put her arm around his waist. “A wondful keepsake, Jason.”

“Hmm,” was his response. He watched Eleanor flip through her book.

“I don’t see anything like it.” She took the lupe from her eye. “It must have been custom made.”

Ying watched Jason stiffen as Eleanor flipped the watch face down. She studied the back. “a lovely sentiment is engraved on the back. ‘To my darling Husband, Love and Long Life, Mary’” She looked up. The elaborate script is right for the time frame. “Your three greats grand-mother? What was her maiden name?”

He sighed. “Mary Whitten. It was her wedding gift to him.”

Eleanor pulled another book from the shelf and began flipping pages. “Ah, here she is. An accomplished woman, your grand-mother.”

Jason picked up the watch and put it back on. “Yes, she was, in her day.”

Eleanor looked him in the eye. “You know she was considered a great Spiritualist?”

“All table knocking non-sense, of couse.”

Her eyebrow rose. “You think so?”

Ying noticed Jason begin to fidget.

“Nice to have met you again, Eleanor. Ying, I have a meeting back at the office.” He twisted his watch.

As the warm glow came over her, Ying clasped the key. The nausea and the glow fought for a moment, then they both disappeared. “I know the watch is magical, Jason.

He stopped and turned back to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I know the watch has magic. You twist it on your arm whenever we meet or when you want me to do something. A few minutes ago you tried to use it on Eleanor.” Ying raised an eyebrow at Eleanor. “I’m not sure why it didn’t work on you.”

“We’re trained to resist magic used on us.” She shrugged at Jason. “Your watch’s magic isn’t very powerful against trained people.”

Jason stared at both Eleanor and Ying. “You’re magicians?”

Ying shook her head. “No. but I carry a powerful artifact. I could feel it every time you used the watch.” She saw his face fall. “It wasn’t necessary, you know. You’re charming, funny, smart, I’d have gone out with you without the manipulations.”

Jason closed his eyes and sighed. “I thought so but you’re so high-powered, I didn’t think you’d take the time.” His eyes focused on the key around her neck. “You have an artifact? A magical piece?”

Her hand crept up to the key. “Yes. I found it. Or it found me. It’s good with business.”

“Wow.”

The two stood staring at each other. Ying was certain he would break up with her and she realized she wanted him to stay.

Eleanor cleared her throat. “I think, if I may be so bold, that the watch is making it possible for you two to be together.”

It was Ying’s turn to be puzzled. “How so?”

“Just a guess, really.” Eleanor glanced at Jason. “No other documented owner has had a family. So something has changed.” She made a pointed look at zjason’s watch. “The watch has to be the difference.”

Ying reached out and stroked Jason’s watch. It was warm to the touch, nothing at all like touching metal. She smiled at him as the familiar warm glow washed through her. “I think this could work.”

 

Thank You!

 

End Part X of X: 1186 Words

 

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Found: Key, Part IX – Flash Fiction Friday Post

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Keys III by Catherine-Elizabeth via DeviantArt.com

Keys III by Catherine-Elizabeth via DeviantArt.com

 

Part IX  http://www.deviantart.com/art/Keys-III-63716735, by Catherine-Elizabeth

Tuesday dawned clear and warm. She arrived at work an hour early, just to be safe and was well into her work as the other partners came in. That should reassure them, she thought as Felicity nodded at her when she passed by the door. She’d already been there three hours when Jason called.

“Lunch? One o’clock at Revise. The chef has chicken, fresh from some farm upstate.”

“Sure.” She grinned as she held her cell phone to her ear. She felt good. His call last night had put her in a good mood and her nausea had disappeared. “I have something to talk over with you.”

“Uh oh.” He laughed. “Bad news or worse news?”

“It’s not bad. Just something we need to discuss.” She briefly wondered what he’d think about going to her parent’s for Thanksgiving then pushed the thought away. She’d find out at lunch. “See you at one.”

“See ya.” He blew a kiss into the phone and clicked off.

She sighed and dropped her phone in her pocket. Ying wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet the parents but November was still weeks away. It would be fine, she decided, and went back to work.

#

At lunch, she was shown to a table, the waiter whisking the RESERVED sign away with a flourish. Jason arrived as the water glasses were being filled. “Sorry about that. A call came in just as I was leaving.”

Ying noticed him spin the watch on his wrist. She smiled at him, her usual warm glow returning, just like every time she saw him. “No worries. I just sat down.” She looked around. “Pretty fancy for lunch.”

“The chef is a high school buddy of mine. He was just hired here, a real coup for him since he’s only twenty-seven.”

“Good for him.” Ying sipped her water as the waiter placed menus on the table. “What’s the specialty here?”

The waiter nodded. “The chicken, madam. Organic, local, fresh chicken, roasted or grilled.”

She grinned across the table. “Sounds wonderful. I’d like it grilled and placed atop a salad, no onions please.”

He nodded. “And the gentleman?”

Jason handed the waiter the menu. “Roasted, and I’m starving so I’ll take the scalloped potatoes and the side salad. No onions for me either, I’m meeting a client later.”

“Very good, sir, madam.” He tucked the menus under his arm and left.

“So,” Jason took her hand across the table. “What’s the discussion.”

“Mother was quite cross at me Sunday night, I mentioned that yesterday. She wants us to come for Thanksgiving.” Ying held her breath. This was where guys usually started backing away.

“Fantastic! I’d love to.”

Ying blinked at the speed of his happy response. “Don’t you have family to visit?”

“They’ll understand.” He twisted the watch around again. “I’m looking forward to meeting the people responsible for the lovely young woman sitting across from me.”

Another wave of well-being flowed through her. “You will get everywhere flattering my parents like that. I warn you. Mother can be…demanding. But if she likes you, you’re in and never escaping. Trust me.”

Jason laughed. “I’ll take my chances.”

#

After meeting her client Ying was at her desk, making notes and organizing her thoughts on the best products for her. She absent-mindedly stroked the key she now wore as a necklace. The move made her nauseous, as usual. For a moment she wished it would give her the warm glow she got whenever she saw Jason. It sucked feeling sick so often. She stopped tapping her keyboard. Warm glow. She looked up at the far wall of her office. Every time she saw Jason. Every time he played with his watch. His antique watch.

She called Eleanor, skipping the pleasantries. “Your group have a watch artifact?”

After a short pause, Eleanor said, “Let me look.”

Ying could hear Eleanor pull down the ancient book and flip through the pages. “No. At least not that I can find at the moment. Why?”

Feeling more and more angry, Ying blurted, “Because I think Jason is using an artifact on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not totally.” Ying took a breath. Maybe she was just reading too much into it. “He said it’s a watch that’s been in his family. Every time he plays with it, I get a warm, loving glow.”

“Every time? Or just every time you notice it?”

Damn her for being so logical. “I don’t know.” Ying drummed her fingertips on the desk, furious that it could be that she was being manipulated into liking him. “I know it’s every time I notice. How can I be sure?”

“You could have him bring the watch in. Tell him you’d like to get it appraised.”

“If he knows it’s magic, he’s not going to show it to you. And even if I can get him to your shop, how would you know if it’s an actual artifact?”

“We have tests. But it’s up to you.” Her voice was eager. “We haven’t identified a new artifact in decades. It would be a feather in my cap to bring a new one in.”

Ying understood Eleanor’s enthusiasm. “I suppose it would. Is there some way to counteract the magic?”

“You don’t like being manipulated.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Usually not. I’ll do some research. Love artifacts are fairly common. I’ll let you know.”

“Fair enough. I’ll see if I can get him into the shop. We’ll work it out from there.”

“Excellent. Take care, Ying.”

“I will.” Ying clicked off. She had to think about how to get Jason to the shop.

 

Thank You!

End Part IX: 938 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

 

Found: Key, Part VIII – Flash Fiction Friday Post

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The Jack's Keys by delusional

The Jack’s Keys by delusional

Part VIII The Jack’s Keys by Delusional, http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-Jack-s-Keys-149318217

Saturday night melted into Sunday morning. Jason was attentive, both in bed and out. She woke to the Sunday paper and a tray of croissants, butter, jam, fresh fruit and both coffee and tea. “You’ll spoil me.” She picked up the soft pastry, spread a bit of jam on the end and bit it.

“You deserve it.” Jason lolled across the end of the bed, a mug of coffee in hand. “What’s your pleasure, Miss?” he asked as they finished breakfast. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of a finger. Ying’s spine tingled. “Dress and go out? The day is beautiful. A walk in the park?” He kissed the next finger. “Go see a movie? The new Space Avengers is playing just down the block.” He arched an eyebrow and kissed the next finger. “Or perhaps, you’d rather stay here, indolent and pampered?”

Ying laughed and pulled her hand away to caress his cheek. He hadn’t shaved and the dark beard was beginning to show. She liked the scruffy look it gave him. “You are a tempter, Sir. You know I love the Space Avenger series.” Ying sighed and gazed into his eyes. “But I think I’d rather stay. We’ll read the paper, watch a movie, make dinner.”

Jason grinned. “Just as milady desires.” He reclaimed her hand and pulled her close, breath mingling. “That leaves time for this.” He kissed her.

#

It was after eight Sunday night before Ying returned home. She hummed as she entered her apartment. She felt the most relaxed she’d ever been. Kicking off her heels, she padded to the bedroom barefoot. The black evening dress was peeled off and dropped into the bag for the dry cleaners. When she finished her shower, she put on her pajamas and emptied her clutch. Her cell phone tumbled out with a tiny makeup bag, her credit card and driver’s license and two tens. She was putting them in her purse for the morning when she realized the phone was off. Puzzled, she turned it on. It took a moment. Then message after message alert came in, the phone dinging and buzzing nearly non-stop for over a minute. The office, her mother, her girlfriends, had sent message after message. The last ones were near frantic, especially from her mother. She hit her mother’s speed dial.

“Mom, it’s me.”

“Where have you been? I was going to call the police!” Her mother’s voice was a mix of panic, relief and anger.

“I’m sorry, Mom. My phone was off. I was on a date.”

“Date? What date lasts two days? Who is this date?”

Ying sat on her bed. Mom was ticked off. “Jason. I told you about him. We went to the opera last night, then I stayed over at his apartment.”

The other end of the call was silent for a moment. “You should call. Why your phone not on?”

Her mother drifting back into patois was an indicator of how upset she was. “I’m sorry, Mom, really. I don’t know how the phone was off. Maybe I never turned it back on after the opera. I should have called you today, I know. It’s my fault.”

Ying heard a snort from the other end.

A long breath could be heard then, “You must like this boy.”

“He’s not a boy, Mom. He’s a couple years older than me.”

“Hmmph. Still a boy. An inconsiderate boy who does not think about your family.”

“Stop, Mom. Jason treated me like a queen. I had a wonderful time.”

Her mother hummph’d again. “Maybe. Now we have to meet this Jason. You and him come for Thanksgiving.”

Ying rolled her eyes. That would be stressful at the very least. “Maybe. He runs a big company, Mom. He may not be able to get away.”

“You tell him. Thanksgiving. Our house. Now go to bed. You have to work in the morning.”

A grin spread across Ying’s face. She’d won her mother over. “Okay, Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“You’d better.” The line clicked off.

Ying stared at the phone in her hand. Now to see what work was calling about. She hoped it wasn’t something critical.

#

Ying massaged her temples. The shit had hit the fan Sunday with a client and the office had been calling her all Sunday to come in and help. When she arrived an hour early Monday, every partner was in the conference room and turned to stare at her entry. Felicity gave her head a slight shake as the lead partner sneered, “Glad you could join us.”

“I’m sorry. My cell phone died. I couldn’t get the store to recover my old one until this morning and then all the texts came in. I hurried right over.” She sank into the chair at the end of the table that was hers and quietly opened her portfolio.

After the meeting, Felicity gave her the dressing down of her life. All of the scut work, stuff that should have gone to the newest associate, had been handed to her to handle. Phone calls, deep data entry, excruciating research, it was all hers and she had partners coming in all day to check on her progress. Now it was eight. The partners and even the partner’s secretary had gone home. The crisis was averted and Felicity had stopped at her door on the way out.

“Good work today. We never would have thought to take the direction you uncovered.”

Ying nodded. “Thank you. It just came to me.”

“Well, a bad start but a good end.” She turned and left.

Ying opened a desk drawer and opened the bottle of aspirin. She took two with a swallow of cold coffee, making a face at the taste. She never would have found the solution without the key. She’d used it so much during the day that she was still nauseated. Wearily she stood, gathered her things and headed home. She hoped that never happened again.

 

Thank You!

 

End Part VIII: 1000 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Found: Key, Part VII – Flash Fiction Friday Post

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Key by pej0

Key by pej0

Part VII  Photo Key by pej0, http://www.deviantart.com/art/key-110125031

A month later Ying was having tea with Eleanor on Saturday afternoon.

“Why do you track these dusty old relics?” Ying put her empty tea cup and saucer on the tray in front of the sofa in the antique shop. “What do you get out of it?”

Eleanor smiled and dunked a cookie in her cup and delicately bit it. She chewed, lost in thought. “I was 22, just out of college when I was first approached. I had just graduated with a degree in French History and looking for a job.” She smiled and shrugged. “It was a passion. I loved everything about it. I just didn’t think about how that would pay for a roof over my head and food in my belly.” She sighed. “I was approached by a very distinguished gentleman. He took me out for lunch.” Again Eleanor shrugged. “It’s embarrassing, really, how I stuffed my face. I was so hungry.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, I turned him down. I was young and full of myself. I was going to make my degree pay.” She chuckled. “Six months later, my girlfriend was giving me the eye about crashing in her apartment and the man approached me again. I wasn’t so dismissive that time. Again, I stuffed my stomach full but I actually listened. It was intriguing, being an agent in charge of historic artifacts.” She made a face. “That’s how he put it. But really, job prospects for a French History major are few and far between.” Eleanor sipped her tea. “I agreed.”

“And you ended up with an antique shop?” Ying was fascinated. This woman had taken a wholly different path but still seemed successful.

“Eventually. There was training. By the time I actually realized what they were about, I was fully invested. Talk about history!”

Ying organized her thoughts. “Jason and I have been dating. I’ve told you all of that.”

Eleanor nodded and refilled her cup.

“What I haven’t told you is that I don’t use the key with Jason.”

Eleanor’s cup hovered just off of the saucer. “Not at all?”

Ying shook her head and refilled her cup. She sipped. “Nope. What does that mean?”

The back of Eleanor’s fingers rubbed against the bottom of her chin as her eyes drifted to the elaborate antique tin ceiling, now painted white. “You’ve told me that you and Jason are happy. Good company, fine dining, happy outings.” She looked Ying in the eyes. “You’re in love?”

Ying was surprised to find her face flushing. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve only known him a month.”

Eleanor smiled. “That’s enough, isn’t it?” She sipped her tea. “I like that you’re not using the key on him. You’re doing this for real, as the youngsters say. That’s good.”

Another flush rushed up Ying’s cheeks. It was suddenly clear to her why she’d not used the key. She didn’t want a man that had been coerced. Her hand shook and the cup rattled in the saucer. She put it down on the table. “So there’s nothing in your book about this?”

Eleanor shook her head. “Nothing. The previous owners were focused on becoming rich and powerful. You’re different. The key is behaving differently with you than our records indicate.” She grinned. A sheepish one that made her blush. “I have to admit. The other guardians are very interested in this case. It’s seldom that we get new data on an artifact’s behavior.”

Ying grinned. “Ah. You’re becoming a celebrity. Good for you.” She stood and smoothed her pantsuit. “I’ll keep you informed. I have a date with Jason tonight. I’ll let you know if anything unusual happens.”

#

They walked across the opera house lobby floor arm in arm. Ying could see the men’s eyes snap in her direction as they passed. She knew she looked good in her black ankle-length dress, décolletage cut to her navel. But more, she and Jason together were a power couple. She could see it when they passed in front of a plate glass window coming into the opera. Her entire body buzzed with it. The key, made into a necklace on a fine gold chain, hung between her breasts. The buzz must be the key, she thought, the subtle movement creating the magic, but this was different. The key usually made her dizzy or nauseated. This was like electricity flowing through her. She thought that if she held her hand out and pointed, lightening would come shooting out of her fingers. It was heady.

After the opera and stops to talk to people each of them knew, they were seated in a quiet bistro on a side street. The wait staff, even at nine-thirty at night were attentive and smiling. The chef came out to personally take their order.

“Impressive.”

Jason shrugged. “I come here a lot. I tip well.”

Ying grinned. “Maybe. But these people seem to really like you.” She watched a blush run up his cheeks.

“Yeah. Well. What can I say.”

While drinks and appetizers were served, they talked about the opera. Over dinner and wine, they exchanged their plans for the future.

“What about you, Jason?” Ying took a sip of the Beaujolais Jason had ordered.

She noticed him play with his watchband. It was something he did when he was thinking. “I want the company to grow, of course.” He spun the band around on his wrist. “Perhaps rival The River one day.”

Ying grinned. “Ambitious, going from a gaming company to a world-wide distribution corporation.”

“Why not?” He grinned. “The River was just a book seller when they started.”

She laughed. The tingling returned. The power she felt was intoxicating. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

After dinner the night air was cool and refreshing after the heat of the day. “Come to my house for a nightcap,” Jason offered.

Ying hesitated.

“Come on. It’s been a month. More if you count the time I knocked you on your butt.”

She understood. Going to his house meant staying the night. On one hand tomorrow was Sunday so no having to get up to go to work. On the other hand, did she want to move to that step? She glanced at her phone, waiting for it to ring. Her mother always knew. “Yes.” She threaded her arm through his right arm. “It’s time.”

 

Thank You!

 

End Part VII: 1064 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Author Interviews: Dawn Simpson

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Author D.M. Simpson

Author D.M. Simpson

I want to welcome D.M. Simpson to my Author Interviews today. Here’s what Dawn has to say about herself.

I am a native Floridian. Most do not believe anyone is native to Florida, but I am here to tell you there are many of us. I am from a large family. I have six siblings, four sisters, and two brothers. I have seven incredible children, five boys, and two girls. I love animals. I have a cat, and a dog, who are now the only children in the house. I am an eclectic spirit. I have a BS in Criminal Justice. I have lived in two foreign countries. I have traveled to Germany. I have traveled from coast to coast here in the states. I, however, prefer the east coast. I have been writing now for three years, and I would not give it up for anything. I started this adventure of writing as a challenge to myself after reading several books written by self-publishers and even some traditionally published. I sat down on my birthday and just started writing. I had a twelve-chapter book staring back at me after four weeks. I wrote every spare moment. I wrote while I cooked dinner. I wrote while the kids did their homework around me at my desk. I wrote on my breaks at work. I wrote while my husband watched TV. Motivated by friends and one of my sisters, who would read as I wrote, begging for more as I completed each chapter. The support was euphoric. My first book was originally going to be my only book, but once the writing bug bites, you cannot stop. Here I am three years later writing two thrillers, the fourth book in my erotic romance series and editing the third book in the erotic romance series.

Wow. That’s a lot going on. But let’s get into the rest of the interview.

1. Let’s start with something fun. What’s your favorite hobby?

I love horseback riding, but I don’t get to do it very much.

 

2. If you had the opportunity—who would you like to spend an afternoon with and why?

Marjorie Collins; I would like to ask her if she was proud of the person her rebellious granddaughter has become. To hear her laugh, see her smile and to feel her arms wrap around me as she hugs me.

 

3. Coffee, tea, soda or something else?

Green tea or Black tea or soda just depends on my mood.

 

4. What are you working on right now?

Currently, writing two thrillers, editing the third book in my romance series and writing the fourth book in the romance series.

L&M Cover

Here’s a bit about my newest book, The Ties That Bind, Lyric and Michael. https://www.amazon.com/Lyric-Michael-Ties-That-Bind-ebook/dp/B00DKMKGFO

Career was the focus as Lyric headed to the big city of Boston, she had no interest in anything else. Running from her past to a place where no one knew who or what she was or was not, on a path of the destiny of her choosing. However, fate had other plans. Finding herself and learning there was so much more than she ever imaged. Caught in a love triangle of danger and death.

 

5. How would you describe your writing style?

I would have to say mental and eclectic. I write as I think and a lot as I speak. My writing is related to my mood as I write. I attempt to draw the reader into the story, make them feel what they are reading. I do not feel I fit in a single genre, eclectic, I incorporate several genres in all my stories.

 

6. Do you have any advice for a person just beginning their writing career?

If you find yourself getting easily agitated because you cannot sit down and write, you are a writer. Writing is the easy part, putting yourself out there for the world to review is the challenging part. I would not say you have to have a thick skin to be a writer; you have to have the ability to take a review of your writing and make it a learning experience. Not a negative/positive thing. Not everyone is going to like what you write or your style of writing, that doesn’t make it wrong or right, it makes it yours and that is what writing is, it’s yours.

 

7. Do you immerse yourself in new situations for writing ideas or do your ideas come to you through your normal, day-to-day life?

Ideas come to me through normal day to day life. I also have them come to me in dreams.

 

8. Where can we find you on the interwebs?

My blog: http://simpsondm7071.blogspot.com/

My facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dmsimpson7071

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/DM-Simpson/e/B00KYRQQTI

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7211741.D_M_Simpson

Dawn, Thank you so much for coming by my blog today and talking with us a little about your work.

All, please stop by Dawn’s pages and say hello. She’ll be happy to see you.