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Day 6 Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour–Wendy Scott

Enjoy this fun story! I loved it!

 

Navigator by Wendy Scott

Luke’s body whirled through the portal in a kaleidoscope of starlight and rainbows. Burnt ozone stung his nostrils, and his stomach roiled as if live dragonflies flitted inside. He clutched his grandfather’s palm tighter, the only connection anchoring them together while they spun into the void, guided by the compass in his grandfather’s other hand.

“We’re here.” His grandfather’s words whistled with wheeziness.

He released Luke and turned away, pocketing the compass, but his old man’s movements weren’t quick enough to hide the tremors or his shortness of breath.

A mountain breeze, tinged with smoke ruffled the tussock grasses underfoot. In the valley below, Luke pinpointed a chimney on a cluster of shacks beside fenced paddocks. Had the old man’s sense of direction faded and cast them adrift?

“Follow me.” His grandfather rolled his shoulders back, lifted his head high, and led the descent.

Mindful of their journey’s mission doubt dragged at Luke’s feet. At only twelve, would he be found worthy? He didn’t want to think about his grandfather’s declining health if their bid was rejected.

Metallic scent tainted the air as they skirted past the dwellings; a one-room cottage, barn, and a smithy. Orange coals smoldered on the forge, hammers, and tongs lined up in military precision, but the pockmarked leather apron hung empty from a hook on the open door.

Without pause, his grandfather guided Luke out the back to the horse corrals. A bear of a man with arms like anvils leaned against the fence. Leather pants and knee-high boots sheathed his legs, but his chest was bare except for a star patterned tattoo, staining his chest muscles indigo and cobalt. At their approach his head swiveled, snaring the pair with a deep ocean gaze. Dryness etched Luke’s throat.

“Navigator, so many years have passed, I feared you would not return.”

Luke’s grandfather bowed his head. “Farrier, events have been unkind, but I keep my promises. My grandson had agreed to assume the responsibility in the place of his father who died when he was a babe.”

The men spoke as if Luke were a phantom, but he remained silent, remembering his grandfather’s instructions only to speak when asked a direct question by the otherworld farrier.

Grass scented warmth huffed through Luke’s hair. A midnight coated horse towered above his head. A white star marked the stallion’s forehead.

Luke clambered up the railings, but he still had to stretch to trail his fingertips along the horse’s snout. His breath caught when he gazed into the depths of the creature’s starlight eyes.

Firm fingers clasped Luke’s shoulder, and the farrier bowed towards the steed.  “Kasper approves of you. Come inside.”

The temperature in the smithy scorched the hairs inside Luke’s nose, and sweat trickled beneath his tunic, but the farrier worked the bellows until the coals combusted into flames. Next, he sprinkled a handful of sand into the hearth, and the fire danced into violet and malachite hues.

“You understand, old friend, without the enchantment your life span will be reduced to mortal years?”

My grandfather nodded.”These old bones grow weary, and the pathways are becoming muddled. My time is past. Luke is young, but he is pure of heart. ”

The farrier studied his friend for a moment before he reached out with his palm. “Navigator, of your own free will do you relinquish your powers to your grandson?”

The old man answered by dropping his compass into the farrier’s outstretched hand. “I do.”

The farrier’s otherworld stare scrutinized the boy, and although the being didn’t touch him, a prickling sensation rippled up Luke’s spine. After several heartbeats, the farrier inclined his head. “Your soul is free of darkness, but perhaps you are too young yet for any temptations to have challenged your values.”

“He’s a good lad. I vouch for him and will guide his path.” His grandfather squeezed Luke’s shoulder.

Calloused fingers gripped Luke’s chin. “Are you sure you want this? It’s not too late to back out and live a normal life. Be warned, once you accept you are bound for life. Each time you enter here seeking my help a non-negotiable toll must be paid.”

Before crossing over doubts had plagued Luke’s thoughts, but after tasting magic, he couldn’t settle for a dull life on the farm when his world had been opened to the lure of other realms.

Luke moistened his lips. “Navigator blood runs in my veins. I’m young, but I’m ready.”

The farrier released him. “Do I have your solemn vow you will only guide your passengers by the way of the light?”

Heart thundering, Luke focused on the compass. “I swear I’ll follow the true pathways.”

Light glinted off the chain as the farrier dangled the compass into the sparking coals. “Hold out your hand.”

Luke flinched, expecting his skin to sizzle when it touched the metal, but the compass was cool. He didn’t feel any different. Had the transfer worked?

The farrier clasped forearms with the older man. “You owe me one last favour, but I will redeem what’s due at another time.”

“As always it will be an honour to serve.” Luke’s grandfather stepped away.

“Navigator, peer into the fire.”

Several moments passed before Luke responded to his new title. Within the flames, he spied a young woman’s face, whose striking features seared into his memory.

“One day she will seek your skills, and when she does you must bring her to me.” The farrier crossed his arms.

Questions burned in Luke’s mind, but he’d been schooled on the protocols, so he suppressed his curiosity, and lowered his eyes. “As you command.”

The farrier ushered them into the yard and bid them farewell. “Keep your promises, follow the light and your direction will always be true.”

Outside Luke paused, blinking. A glittering path lit the way up to the portal.

Unshed tears gathered in his grandfather’s eyes. “The navigator’s sight is now hidden from me.”

Grasping the compass in one hand, Luke held out his other hand. “Come grandfather, I will guide you home.”

***

(Navigator is a prelude and companion scene to Fire Hooves – yet to be released by Wendy Scott).

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH RWISA WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

 

WENDY SCOTT RWISA Author Page

 

Day 5 Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour–Gwen Plano

 

Welcome to Day 5! I am going to have to buy more Kleenex! This is such a great story! You’re gonna love it!

Love at First Sight

By Gwendolyn M Plano

 

“It doesn’t seem real. It just doesn’t seem real.” Mom muttered as she ran her hand over the curves of dad’s headstone. Sighing deeply, she stared blankly into the horizon.

After a few minutes, she turned and faced me. “I tell myself that it must be real.” She seemed to want my approval. “The stone says we were married 70 years. It must have happened; I must have been married. But, but…why can’t I remember?” She searched my face for answers.

Stooped from the burden of years now elusive and sometimes vacant, mom held my arm while she walked to either side of the monument.

“I saw him in a dream. Did I tell you that?”

“No, mom, I don’t think you did.”

“He was young, like when we first met.”

“Really? Could you tell me about how you met?”

“How?” Mom’s eyes darted to and fro as she struggled to answer. Then, as though the curtains lifted, she responded.

“Yes…yes, I can tell you how we met.”

“Let’s sit here, mom.” I led her to a cement bench under a tall oak tree near dad’s grave. “Now tell me how the two of you met.”

Mom took a deep breath and began. “It was during the war. I remember it now. It was 1944. There were posters in our high school which asked us to sign up to work at the Consolidated Aircraft factory in San Diego. They needed help building B-24 bombers. We called the bombers the Liberators. My sister and I and several of our girlfriends decided we wanted to help our country. Most of the boys in our class were enlisting in the army or navy. We wanted to do our part too.”

“Like Rosie the Riveter?”

“Oh, yes! We all wanted to be Rosie. Your grandparents didn’t much like the idea, but they knew the families of the other girls, and since we’d be living together and would watch out for one another, they finally agreed. After all, it was the patriotic thing to do.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of mom being Rosie and asked where she lived.

“We lived with Aunt Lena on India Street in San Diego. She put in bunk beds for us. At night, we’d wash out our clothes and tie the pieces to the bedsprings so that they could dry overnight.”

“When we arrived at Consolidated, they gave each of us a uniform – blue pants and jacket. And, we had classes for a week or two. Most of us were assigned the job of riveting. It’s hard to believe, but there were about 20,000 women working at the factory. The assembly line was a mile long, and believe it or not, we built about nine bombers a day. Isn’t that amazing?”

“That is amazing, mom.” Pride glowed from mom’s face, and I couldn’t help but feel proud of her as well.

“I was assigned to the wings. I hate heights, but I’d climb on top of those wings and pretend I was sitting on the hood of a car. I didn’t get afraid that way. One day, when I was sitting up there, holding a riveting gun, your dad came by.”

“Hey,” he said. “What’s your name?” I thought I might be in trouble, but he smiled, so I smiled back.

“It’s Lauretta.”

“Well, Lauretta, you’re doing a great job. If you need anything, let me know. My name’s Jim, and I’m the foreman for this area.”

I put my arm around mom’s shoulder. “My goodness, mom, you were on the wing of a bomber when you met dad?”

“Sounds funny, doesn’t it? But, yes, that’s the first time we talked. I didn’t pay much attention to him, but my sister would whisper to me, “There he is again. I think he likes you. He keeps looking this way.”

Mom lowered her eyes and giggled. “Of course, I didn’t believe her.”

After pausing a bit, she continued. “Your dad started walking home with us in the evening. He lived further up the hill from us, so it wasn’t out of his way. Mind you, I was wearing the company uniform and had my hair in a bandana, so I was hardly a beauty.”

“Anyway, one day he asked if I’d like to come up to his place. And, I was stupid and said okay. That’s when I learned about the facts of life. You know, sex.”

“You didn’t know before then, mom?”

“No, but he taught me that night.” Mom giggled and put her hand on her face. “He wanted to get married right then. But, I told him no, he had to talk to my parents. We needed to do it right. Besides, I hardly knew him. There were a lot of shot-gun marriages those days. We all thought the end of the world was coming, and well, young lovers didn’t hold back.”

“So, you and dad became lovers?”

“You know the answer to that, don’t you? When I didn’t have my cycle, I knew I was pregnant. Your dad was elated and didn’t hesitate to talk to your grandparents. Of course, I was ashamed. But, I want you to understand something. You might have been the reason we married, but you were not the reason we stayed together for 70 years.”

“Did you love him, mom?” The question came out before I could filter it.

“I did, I just didn’t know I did. Your dad would tell anyone who would listen, ‘When I saw Lauretta on the wing of a B-24 bomber, I knew that she was the one for me.’ He’d say it all the time, ‘She’s the one for me!’” Mom giggled as she thought about this story. “Your dad always said it was love at first sight. But it wasn’t that way for me.”

“What do you mean by that, mom?”

“Well, love is a strange word, isn’t it? Your dad seemed to know from the first time he saw me that he wanted to marry me. I didn’t feel that way. I think my focus was romance or dreams. And, your dad wasn’t the wooing type.”

“I believe I fell in love with him after you were born. He thought you were the most beautiful baby in the whole world. In fact, I think he was happiest when he was holding you. He’d sing to you and rock you to sleep every night.”

She dropped her head, and tears rolled down her cheeks. My tears fell as well.

“He was a good man, a faithful man. Did I tell you his promise?”

I shook my head, and said, “no.”

“You know that he grew up hungry, right? During the Dust Bowl, his family barely survived. In fact, two of his sisters died.  Well, your dad promised me that his children would never go hungry. He would make sure of it. And, he did. He worked two jobs most of our marriage, and you kids were never hungry.” She paused and looked into my eyes.

“Your dad kept his promises.”

Mom grew silent. Her face turned from animated to expressionless, and I did not know what to think. She whispered something that I had to ask her to repeat. She sighed and looked at me again.

“It just doesn’t seem real.”

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH RWISA WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

 

GWEN PLANO RWISA Author Page

 

Day 4 Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour–Beem Weeks

Let’s welcome author-of-the-day, BEEM WEEKS! You will LOVE his story and I DARE you to read it without a tissue handy!

 

Wordless

 

“What’s that word say?”

“That’s an easy one, Daddy. Just sound it out.”

Levi Bacchus can’t read. 36 years old, and he’d never learned the meaning of a single sentence.

“I just ain’t cut out for this, Jamie Lynn.”

The girl’s countenance dropped in disagreement—just like her mother, that one.

“So, you’re a quitter now?” she bellowed, sounding too much like the woman who’d walked out of their lives two years earlier.

Levi took offense. “Mind your manners, Missy. I ain’t never been called no quitter.”

“Reading is something everybody should be able to do, is all I’m saying.”

“It’s easy for you,” Levi argued. “You’re just a kid, still in school. You have teachers telling you what to do and how to do it. I’m just too old for learning.”

The girl narrowed her gaze, jabbed a finger into the open book. “From the beginning,” she demanded.

His heaving huff meant he’d do it again—if only for her sake.

Words formed in his head before finding place on his tongue. Some came through in broken bits and pieces, while others arrived fully formed and ready for sound.

Jamie’s excitement in the matter is why he kept trying. Well, that and the fact he’d long desired the ability to pick up the morning paper and offer complaint or praise for the direction of the nation. All those people in the break room at the plant held their own opinions on everything from the president to the latest championship season enjoyed by the local high school football team.

“That’s good, Daddy,” Jamie said, patting her father on the arm. “That’s really good. You’ll be reading books before too long.”

A smile worked at the edges of his lips, refusing to go unnoticed.

“I’d like that, Sweet Pea.” That’s all he’d say of the matter. If it came to that, well then, he’d have accomplished something worth appreciating.

Levi harbored bigger notions than merely reading books. When a man can read, he can do or be anything he wants to be. His own father often said a man who can’t read is forever in bondage. How can a man truly be free if he cannot read the document spelling out the very rights bestowed upon him by simple virtue of birth? No sir; being illiterate no longer appealed to him.

Of his immediate family—father, mother, two older brothers—only Levi failed to attend college. Oh, he graduated from high school. Being a star quarterback will afford that sort of luxury. But when those coaches from the universities came calling, low test scores couldn’t open doors that promised more than a life spent in auto factories.

He’d seen a show on TV about a man who’d been sent to prison for five years for armed robbery. While there, this man learned to read, took a course on the law, and became a legal secretary upon his release. Eight years later, he’d earned a law degree and opened his very own practice.

Levi didn’t see himself arguing cases in a court of law—defending criminals most likely to be guilty just didn’t appeal to his sense of right and wrong. What he did see, however, is the need for a good and honest person to run the city he’d forever called home.

“Think I could be mayor?” he asked his daughter.

Jamie Lynn always grinned over such talk. “Everybody has to have a dream, Daddy.”

It’s what she always says.

Everything begins with a dream.

She gets that part of her from her mother.

“Once I can read without stopping to ask questions,” he mused, “maybe I’ll throw my hat into the ring, huh?”

“There’s nothing wrong with asking questions,” she answered, weaving wisdom between her words.

*      *      *

She’d been a girl scout, his daughter—daisies and brownies before that. It’s the other girls who bullied her out of the joy that sort of thing once offered. Straight A’s have a way of making others feel inferior, even threatened.

But Jamie Lynn isn’t the type to pine or fret. She chose to tutor—and not just her father, either. Kids come to the house needing to know this and that among mathematics or English or science. Her dream? To be a teacher one day.

And she’ll accomplish that much and more.

Her mother had that very same sense about her as well. She knew what she wanted in life, and cleared the path upon which she traveled.

High school sweethearts they’d been, Jamie Lynn’s mother and father. She’d been the pretty cheerleader, he’d been the All-American boy with a cannon for an arm. She went to college, he didn’t.

But she returned to him, joyfully accepting his proposal for a life together. Her degree carried her back to the high school from which they’d both graduated. This time, rather than student, she became teacher—American History.

Levi went to work building Cadillacs in the local plant. It paid well, offered medical benefits and paid vacation time. Life settled into routines.

Then came their little bundle. This didn’t sit well with the newly-minted history teacher. No sir. It’s as if Levi had intentionally sabotaged his own wife’s career in some fiendish plot to keep her home.

Words of love became “stupid” and “ignorant” and “illiterate ass.” She walked out one evening and never came back to the home they’d built together.

A former student, he’d heard—five years her junior. They’d ran off together, supposedly making a new home somewhere out west.

Levi didn’t challenge it. He received the house and the kid in exchange for his signature on those papers he couldn’t even read.

Jamie Lynn, she’s the light that shined in his darkness, showed him there’s still so much more living to be done. And learning to read, well, that just added to the adventure.

*      *      *

The night came when he read an entire chapter from one of Jamie Lynn’s old middle school books—straight through, unpunctuated by all those starts and stops and nervous questions. By the end of the month, Levi had managed the entire story—all 207 pages.

“We have to celebrate, Daddy,” she insisted.

It’d been the silly draw of embarrassment that twisted his head left and right, his voice saying, “No need to make a fuss, Sweet Pea.”

But fuss is only the beginning. “Dinner and a movie,” she ordered. “Then we’ll stop off at the mall and pick out a few books that you might like.”

There were stories he recalled from his boyhood; books other kids clutched under their arms and took for granted. Stories that stirred so much excitement in those young lives.

They’d belong to him now.

“You’re finally blooming, Daddy—just like a flower.”

And so was his daughter.

A teacher in the making.

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH RWISA WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

 

BEEM WEEKS RWISA Author Page

 

 

 

Day 2 Watch RWISA Write–Karen Ingalls

Hi All! Thanks for joining me for the fabulous month-long RWISA (RAVE WRITERS – INTERNATIONAL SOCIETY OF AUTHORS) Showcase tour! All month you’ll be getting some super-special sample writing from some of the best indie authors out there! So, buckle up and enjoy! Day 2 brings you a heart-warming vignette from Karen Ingalls.

 

A FISHY DAY

 

It was one of those wonderful August days when the sun was high and warm in the sky. The big cumulus clouds slowly drifted by, creating designs that filled Jim’s imagination, who at nine years could see all kinds of amazing sights. He had been playing with his model airplane in his aunt and uncle’s yard, where he spent the summers on their ranch in San Diego, California. Staying with Uncle Leon and Aunt Helen was always a special time of adventure, fun and farm work.

 

“Jim, do you want to go to the pasture with me? We’ll check the water trough for the cattle,” Uncle Leon asked, at the same time he took his handkerchief and wiped some perspiration from his tan brow.

 

“Oh, yes,” Jim responded with great excitement. He ran to the front porch and put his treasured airplane on the table next to where Aunt Helen sat in her rocking chair.

 

Uncle Leon walked over to the Allis-Chalmers tractor and stretched his long, thin legs up and over onto the metal seat. “All right, Jim, you can come on up now.” Jim awkwardly managed to climb up and grab hold of his uncle’s hand, who swung him onto his lap. With the turn of the key the tractor began to vibrate and the engine roared. Shifting the gears into forward, Leon yelled, “Here we go!”

 

The pasture was a favorite place for Jim with its rolling hills, oak trees, and green grass. It was always a peaceful place where a boy could run until he was out of breath, and then fall onto the grass and let the wind gently blow over his panting body. Many were the times that Jim would spend his days, just climbing in the oak trees pretending he was hiding from some enemy, or shooting squirrels with his imaginary rifle.

 

He and his uncle drove through the pasture until they came to a large trough sitting by a water pump on the top of a knoll. The cattle were grazing some distance away, but their occasional moos could be heard.

 

Uncle Leon helped Jim off the tractor and then sauntered up to the trough. “Not much water left so we best get this filled up.”

 

Jim was leaning over the trough where the top of it just reached his chest. “What can I do? I want to help.”

 

“Well, now, how about you pump the water in once I get it primed,” replied Uncle Leon with his usual smiling face. He was happy that Jim wanted to help, but he also knew that pumping water would be a big job for such a young lad. Once he had the water flowing with each downward motion of the pump handle, he instructed, “Okay, young feller, it is your turn now.”

 

Jim eagerly grabbed the handle and standing on his tiptoes, pushed it down, smiling happily when the water gushed into the trough. He repeated the pumping for as long as he could, but all too quickly his arms and shoulders began to ache. Jim did not want to admit that he was getting tired, but his uncle knew and said, “How about if I do it for a while?”

 

Once the water neared the top, Jim leaned over cupping some water into his hands. “This is the best tasting water I’ve ever had,” Jim thought to himself. He slurped several handfuls into his dry mouth.

 

Looking over at his nephew, Leon asked with a twinkle in his eye, “Did you see that fish drop into the water from this here pump?”

 

“What fish?”

 

“Why, that fish that came right out of the pump into the trough. I thought sure you would have seen him while you were drinking the water.”

 

“No, sir. I didn’t see any fish.” Jim wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and earnestly looked in the water.

 

“Well, he must still be in there.” Uncle Leon leaned over the trough looking for the mysterious fish. “Now isn’t that something. I can’t see him anywhere.” He peeked a look at his nephew, who now had eyes as big as saucers. “I wonder if you accidentally swallowed that poor little fish while you were drinking all that water.”

 

Jim stepped back from the trough and began to rub his stomach. “I don’t think so, sir.” The minutes passed and Uncle Leon continued to wonder out loud what happened to the fish. Jim began to imagine that the fish was swimming in his stomach. “I don’t feel so good,” Jim said as he stretched down on the cool grass.

 

Seeing that his nephew was fearful and feeling sick, Uncle Leon laid down next to him and pointed up towards the clouds. “Jim, look at that cloud up there. See the little one next to the big puffy cloud?”

 

He waited until Jim nodded his head and said, “I think so.”

 

“It kind of looks like a fish, doesn’t it? I wonder if that is the fish that was in the trough.”

 

Jim looked at his uncle, then up at the clouds, and then back at his uncle who was smiling from ear to ear. Uncle Leon laughed and began to tickle Jim’s stomach. “Or, is that fish still here? Where is that fish?”

 

Jim laughed and joked right back while he patted his uncle’s stomach. “No, I think that fish is right here!”

 

Soon they both stopped laughing and just looked at one another. “I hope I don’t tease you too much,” Uncle Leon said.

 

“Oh no, Sir.” Jim looked at his uncle and went on to say, “I like to tease my younger brothers. Mother is always telling me not to do it too much. She doesn’t want them to cry.”

 

“Well, I would never want to make you cry.” Uncle Leon put his big hand on Jim’s head. “Do you know why?” Jim slowly shook his head back and forth not wanting his uncle to remove his hand. “I love you too much to ever make you cry for any reason.”

 

With tears in his eyes, Jim whispered, “I love you, too.”

 

They spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the sun, the warm breeze, and just being next to one another in the grass, watching the clouds drift by. It was a special day that Jim always remembered with a smile.

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH RWISA WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

KAREN INGALLS RWISA AUTHOR PAGE

 

Day 1: Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour–Yvette Calliero

 

Words

By Yvette M Calleiro

 

The written word and I

Are cherished friends,

Embracing each other’s thoughts and emotions

Like kindred spirits,

Dancing on clouds.

Bosom buddies who gossip and giggle

And gasp at all the same moments.

She and I are equals,

More than that, really.

We are two parts of a whole,

Complementing and complimenting the other,

Perfect beings.

The spoken word and I

Skirt around each other’s social circles.

We stumble around awkward pauses,

Unable to pull the perfect word or phrase

From our filing cabinet of knowledge.

Ease and grace flee without a moment’s notice.

She is more skilled than I.

She whispers her intricately woven ideas into my mind,

But her delicate strength is no match for

The hills of anxiety and the mountains of insecurity

That obstruct her path to freedom.

Before her words can reach my tongue,

They unravel into shreds of confusion,

Left unspoken.

If only the written word and the spoken word

Could meet…

They would live in perfect harmony.

But alas…

It is not meant to be,

Neither willing to leave her domain,

Each content to dance alone,

And I…

I am stuck in the middle,

Pulled in both directions,

Reveling in the comfort of the written word,

Needing the spoken word to survive.

But still I dream

Of the day when my words will intermingle

And a new love affair can be born.

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH “RWISA WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

Yvette Calliero RWISA Author Page

Release Day: WATCH OVER by Amy Reece

Title: Watch Over
Series: The DeLucas Family #1
Author: Amy Reece
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Suspense
Release Date: July 11, 2017
Publisher: Limitless Publishing

Melanie Blythe has a house, a career, and a cat. She doesn’t need a man. But she isn’t the only one who’s noticed the gorgeous cop down the street. When her faithless cat prances home from the cop’s house with a note tucked in his collar, it might be the beginning of something beautiful…or it might be Melanie’s death warrant.

Detective Finn DeLuca is stuck at home recovering from a hit-and-run accident, and has plenty of time to wonder about the woman two doors down. There’s something mysterious about the beautiful brunette, and he’s determined to get to know her. 

But someone else has other plans. 
As the two grow closer, someone is watching—and waiting. Sooner or later, their chance will come. 

And the two lovebirds will never see it coming.


Amy Reece lives in Albuquerque, NM, with her husband and family. She loves to read and travel and has an unhealthy addiction to dogs. She believes red wine and coffee are the elixirs of life and lead to great inspiration. She is the author of The Seeker Series (YA paranormal) and The Way to Her Heart (YA romantic suspense).


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Release Blitz: Dead End Road

Title: Dead End Road
Series: Vengeful Things #1
Author: Lori Whitwam
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release: July 4, 2017
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Kindle Unlimited
A writer, a musician, an unexpected love…and a killer who wants to destroy it all. 
Reclusive author Abby Delaney never dreamed she’d meet her rock-n-roll fantasy Seth Caldwell in her quaint, lakeside town…or that his love might be deadly.
Seth is weary of road trips, endless parties, and dead-end relationships, but what choice does he have? Songwriting and performing are all he knows. Then he meets Abby and finally finds a heart he can’t stand to break. 
But forget small-town tranquility. An attempt is made on Seth’s life, and another mysterious death hits eerily close to home. Everyone’s a suspect, he’s taunted with ominous messages, and it’s only a matter of time until the killer finds his mark. 
What if the only way to keep Abby safe is to do the one thing she can never forgive—walk away? 
As the noose tightens, one thing becomes clear…
If the killer isn’t found soon, Seth and Abby will take their love to the grave.
Lori spent her early years reading books in a tree in northern West Virginia. The 1980s and 90s found her and her husband moving around the Midwest, mainly because it was easier to move than clean the apartment. After seventeen frigid years in Minnesota, she fled to coastal North Carolina in 2013. She will never leave, and if you try to make her, she will hurt you.


She has worked in public libraries, written advertising copy for wastewater treatment equipment, and managed a holistic veterinary clinic. Her current day job, conducted from her World Headquarters and Petting Zoo (her couch) is as a full-time editor for indie authors and small publishing houses.

Her dogs are a big part of her life, and she has served or held offices in Golden Retriever and Great Pyrenees rescues, a humane society, a county kennel club, and her own chapter of Therapy Dogs International.

She has been a columnist and feature writer for auto racing and pet publications, and won the Dog Writers Association of America’s Maxwell Award for a series of humor essays.

Parents of a grown son, Lori and her husband were high school sweethearts, and he manages to love her in spite of herself. Some of his duties include making sure she always has fresh coffee and safe tires, trying to teach her to use coupons, and convincing the state police to spring her from house arrest in her hotel room in time for a very important concert. That last one only happened once—so far—but she still really, really appreciates it.


HOSTED BY:

99 Cent Special: Loving Her Scars by B.M. Griffin

LovingScars

July 10-15th ONLY

Shayla’s scars run deeper than those on her body. Being beaten by a man you loved can do that to you. Shayla barely survived her first love, Eric. He left her broken and scarred in more ways than one.

Her best friend Adam is the only man she has been able to trust since. Friends since childhood, Adam has been in love with Shayla for as long as he can remember. He couldn’t save her from Eric, but he is determined never to fail her again. There’s just one little thing she doesn’t know—Adam is a werewolf.

Shayla gets sucked into a world of werewolves and finds herself opening up to Adam’s love, but there is one alpha wolf who threatens to take it all away. If they are going to survive they’ll need to come together to fight for each other and their pack. Can Shayla find the strength to leave her past behind and fight for the future she deserves?

Cover Reveal: DEAD END ROAD by Lori Whitwam

We are very excited to reveal with you all the stunning cover of DEAD END ROAD by Lori Whitwam designed by Derange Doctor Designs! This Romantic Suspense is set to release July 14th from Limitless Publishing!

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DEAD END ROAD
by Lori Whitwam
A writer, a musician, an unexpected love…and a killer who wants to destroy it all.

 

Reclusive author Abby Delaney never dreamed she’d meet her rock-n-roll fantasy Seth Caldwell in her quaint, lakeside town…or that his love might be deadly.

 

Seth is weary of road trips, endless parties, and dead-end relationships, but what choice does he have? Songwriting and performing are all he knows. Then he meets Abby and finally finds a heart he can’t stand to break.

 

But forget small-town tranquility. An attempt is made on Seth’s life, and another mysterious death hits eerily close to home. Everyone’s a suspect, he’s taunted with ominous messages, and it’s only a matter of time until the killer finds his mark.

 

What if the only way to keep Abby safe is to do the one thing she can never forgive—walk away?

 

As the noose tightens, one thing becomes clear…

If the killer isn’t found soon, Seth and Abby will take their love to the grave.
Dead End Road FINAL paperback.jpg
MEET LORI WHITWAM
Lori spent her early years reading books in a tree in northern West Virginia. The 1980s and 90s found her and her husband moving around the Midwest, mainly because it was easier to move than clean the apartment. After seventeen frigid years in Minnesota, she fled to coastal North Carolina in 2013. She will never leave, and if you try to make her, she will hurt you.

 

She has worked in public libraries, written advertising copy for wastewater treatment equipment, and managed a holistic veterinary clinic. Her current day job, conducted from her World Headquarters and Petting Zoo (her couch) is as the Managing Editor for Limitless Publishing, as well as editing for a select group of indie authors.

 

Her dogs are a big part of her life, and she has served or held offices in Golden Retriever and Great Pyrenees rescues, a humane society, a county kennel club, and her own chapter of Therapy Dogs International.

 

She has been a columnist and feature writer for auto racing and pet publications, and won the Dog Writers Association of America’s Maxwell Award for a series of humor essays.

 

Parents of a grown son, Lori and her husband were high school sweethearts, and he manages to love her in spite of herself. Some of his duties include making sure she always has fresh coffee and safe tires, trying to teach her to use coupons, and convincing the state police to spring her from house arrest in her hotel room in time for a very important concert. That last one only happened once—so far—but she still really, really appreciates it.

 

** WEBSITE ** FACEBOOK ** TWITTER **

 

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Book Blitz and Guest Post: Cassandra Fear

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Guest Post:

Today we have a great guest post from Cassandra Fear, author of THE FLAMES Trilogy! She’s got some great advice for selling your book online. Welcome, Cassandra!

How to Sell Your Book Online

There are many ways to sell your book online. There are so many avenues you can go down now with social media. Let’s start with the big ones.

  1. Facebook. There are tons of ways to get noticed on Facebook now. You can utilize your author page and join in author takeovers. Have release parties. And, don’t forget you can also run ads on Facebook and target a specific audience. If you can master the Facebook add, it can help you sell books. I’ve seen people succeed with these, but I myself haven’t mastered them yet.
  2. Instagram. Post pictures of your paperback and doll it up. Set a scene. There is a huge market for this on Instagram with the bookstagrammers. Just don’t forget to hashtag. You can also post teasers and buy links and get the word out about your amazing book.
  3. Twitter. I don’t know how well twitter does for book sales, but I believe it can help if you use the right hashtags. For me, I use twitter to connect with other authors. We are such a bit community and the support is amazing to have on your side. So, even though I’m sure Twitter can help with sales, I’m not sure how well it does.
  4. Ads with online sites. Such as Bookbub (very expensive) and on down the line to other sites like Bookshark. There are a ton of places you can book adds, especially if your book is free or 99 cents for a short period of time. The more downloads you get helps get your book out there and might make the reader buy your next book, so running free sales can help and you might see a boost in sales for a while, but it won’t last forever.
  5. And finally, do book blitzes and blog tours. These are crucial for a new author to get their name out in the industry. You need reviews and blog tours can get people who love to review to read your book. It can help spread your name all over the internet, too. So, do them as much as you can.

Either way, your first book might not bring you a ton of sales. The best thing to do is write more and write frequently. If you do this and release more books, chances are more people will find you then. But, in the meantime, keep posting those buy links whenever you can. Just don’t make that all you post. Nobody likes a spammer.

Series Title: The Flames Trilogy

Author: Cassandra FearIMG_3227

Publisher: Limitless Publishing

Author Bio:

Cassandra Fear lives in Ohio with her husband, two kids and two dogs. Hiking, taking care of her fish tank and reading are her favorite hobbies. She loves chocolate, hates driving in the snow and could eat macaroni and cheese every day. In her spare time, she loves to write, and has always dreamed of becoming an author.

Author Website:

http://www.cassandrafear.com

Giveaway URL: a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Buy Links:

Above The Flames (Book 1)

US- http://tinyurl.com/kslo4ex

UK- http://tinyurl.com/m85s6aw

CA- http://tinyurl.com/ya8py6ve

Surrounded By Flames (Book 2)

US- http://tinyurl.com/kjl8v93

UK- http://tinyurl.com/kuqjxqm

CA- http://tinyurl.com/y6wkxhxk

EXCERPTS:

Excerpt 1:

 

She continued toward the sidewalk, taking in all the small shops that lined Main Street. Each side looked the same. Blood splatters. Broken windows. Glass sprinkling the street. She saw another body sprawled face down on the sidewalk, a puddle of crimson soaking into the concrete, turning dark brown. It seemed like she was walking through a haunted house, not the town she fell in love with.

Jasmine covered her mouth and she gasped as she passed Mr. Gregory’s barber shop, where Pa always got his hair cut. Mr. Gregory sat with his back to the wall in the doorway; his neck cut open and red streams flowing down it.

Footsteps pounded the asphalt behind her, and she knew the others had joined her, but it didn’t register. She rushed to the barbershop and grabbed the barber’s wrist, checked for a pulse, and let his dead arm fall to the ground. It landed with a thud that echoed off the walls in the small entrance. She cringed at the sight of blood coating his skin. Her stomach roiled and she stepped backward until she slammed into the wall behind. She turned her head, not wanting to see what lay before her.

Caim came forward and crouched down next to the body. “His body’s still warm. They can’t be far.”

“Everyone stay close. We don’t know what we are walking into,” Lamia said quietly but firmly.

Jasmine walked forward mechanically, and Beau matched her pace. She took steps, one after the other, like a zombie. Trash littered the sidewalks. Glass shards crunched under her feet as she followed Caim. The coppery smell of blood filled her senses. Dead bodies surrounded her. So many bodies.

Her voice shook. “Is there anyone left alive?”

 

 

Excerpt 2:

 

Jasmine tapped under his chin and made him draw his eyes back up to hers. “Listen, I get it. The could haves will drive you nuts, though, so I suggest you let it go and focus on the now. It doesn’t matter what the angels did wrong or what they did right. It matters that we are here, now, to stop the demons. Who knows, maybe this really is our destiny. All I know is I’m ready to fight. Aren’t you?”

He smiled and leaned closer to her. “You know, you can be very inspirational when you aren’t sulking.”

“I don’t sulk.” She laughed because even though she’d denied it, she knew she did sulk. A lot.

“Mmm. I think you do. We will just have to agree to disagree.”

Their faces were inches apart now, and Jasmine wanted to grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him the rest of the way to her. She wanted their lips to crash together, to feel the passion that threatened to erupt every time they were together. Just as she was about to let herself do exactly what she wanted, the sound of wings flapping through the sky made her look up. And she froze.

“Uh, Amon, look up there.” Jasmine pointed.

“I’d rather not,” he replied. When Jasmine peered at him, he was staring hard at her lips.

She smiled despite herself, and put a couple fingers under his chin, forcing his head toward the sky. “I really think you need to.”

Amon’s jaw dropped open. “It’s an angel.”

 

Excerpt 3:

 

Amon narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I guess I know now that I shouldn’t try to help you.”

Jasmine huffed. “Yeah, because you’re so great at helping. You took Beau’s side.”

“I took no side.” Amon took a step closer.

“And you act like you know everything.” Jasmine pressed her back into the tree.

“I do no such thing.” Another step.

“You are so infuriating. Ugh!” She threw her hands in the air. “I can’t stand talking to you. You’re like an old-fashioned know-it-all. You’re never wrong. But you’re always wrong.”

“That makes no sense.” He stood right in front of her now.

Jasmine pushed her face into his. “You drive me crazy.”

“You were already crazy. I didn’t have to drive you there.”

“You…you jerk!”

Amon shoved his fists against the tree, boxing her in. “Oh, now we are name-calling? Fine! You’re nothing but a…a…”

“Ha. You can’t even think of anything.” She gave him a smug smile. “I guess you don’t know everything, huh?”

“You know what, Jasmine. You infuriate me. I try to help you, to show you what I have observed by the story you share, and you treat me like I’m a plague upon you. I have learned a valuable lesson today.” Their eyes locked.

She raised her chin. “And what’s that.”

Amon’s voice softened. “I don’t even know why you are so mad.”

She whispered, “Because I know you’re right.”

Silence stretched. Jasmine kept her gaze locked on Amon’s brown eyes. Those big honey brown eyes. Her breath quickened and she parted her lips. Her fingers trembled, so she shoved them behind her and grabbed hold of her shirt. Amon leaned closer, his warm breath caressing her ear. “Then stop fighting me.”