where I share my experiences with the art of writing, publishing, and book marketing

where I share my experiences with the art of writing, publishing, and book marketing

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Last year I produced three books, the last of which has just been released.  Writers tend to write of their own experiences and what they know. These writings were an abstract of my own spiritual growth and—acceptance.  I did not know when I began them that they would become my gift to God, and His gift to me.  I felt a presence often, but it was not until the third book that I knew who it was.

I know there are some of you rolling your eyes, or popping your lips at that.  I know one friend in particular who will think I have gone stupid.  I have taken to telling that friend that it takes as much faith for them to believe there is no god as it does for me to believe there is; perhaps it takes him even more.

It is life that has not been good to me, not God.  Whatever He is, whatever mystery He weaves He has kept me in it.  I have very little to give Him in return.  So I chose to make the last book a gift back.

Still my books are not holy crusades; just abstracts, some reflection of what I have endured.  I wanted to share that, because now that they are written I feel relieved that I gave something back to God.  The problem I face now is how do I move on from that?

Monday, June 22, 2015

The reviews are coming in. The first is a four star!

From Gayle Pace at Books, Reviews, Etc.

Read it here: Books, Reviews, Etc.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Minstrels Save Mysterious Guardian


Saturday, February 28, 2015

Minstrels' Prize released to Kindle!

Available on Kindle beginning 3/1/2015
Minstrels' Prize is the third book in the Minstrels' Tale Mystery. It brings together all that happened in books 1 and 2 to an epic conclusion,  yet leaves the reader wanting for more.

Friday, January 30, 2015

A little preview of the soon to be released Minstrels' Prize, Book 3 of The Minstrels' Tale Mystery

   Mam had concocted a new formula to battle my seasickness and I was anxious to test its worth. I went to stand in the prow and took on the stance I had seen Andreas take so many times when we had sailed before. The feel of the wind against my face was a triumph. Joy came up in me and I threw wide my arms, tossed back my head and laughed. The wind played through my fingers and I felt like a bird in flight. I had often been jealous of Andreas as he stood reveling in the sensation of flight across the waters. I would not have to be jealous again. I blessed my mother for the gift she had given me. She did not know how great a gift it was.
   “Find your wings, Angel?” I heard Andreas ask as he came to put his arms around me.
   “It feels like that to me now. I used to hate that you could feel this and I could not. My mother’s brew works perfectly! This is awesome!”
   “Can I tear you away? I have something equally awesome to show you.”
   “I don’t know what that could be, but I’m curious.”
He took me to where several sailors were pointing at the water, laughing, and calling out in merriment. As we came to the rail I saw a school of large black and white fish. They were about twelve fotmal in length. They jumped in and out of the water, following along with us, just along our starboard side.
   “You have always been so taken with the sea sickness that you’ve missed this before. See how the pure white center and sides of their bodies look like wings? That and the legends about them saving drowning sailors have gotten them named Angelimare. In the ancient tongue it means angel of the sea.” Andreas told me this and I turned to meet his eyes.
   “Yes,” he said, “Angels seem to be coming at us from all sides, a synchronous situation. Everything happening seems to be connected.”
   “It is an odd series of coincidence that’s all,” I said as a way of dismissing what I felt but denied—synchronous.
   It was enough to start me questioning my beliefs. Perhaps God was greeting us; giving us welcome to a mission he had patiently waited for us to take up. I watched the Angelimare and asked one of the crew how often this sort of thing happened.
   “They like to play in the wake of swift ships. They stay mostly to the southern waters so it is not uncommon, but usually it is two or three. Here we have seven. That is the biggest flock I’ve ever seen.    We sailors are a superstitious bunch. A sea angel at the start of a voyage is good luck. We must have very good luck ahead to have such a big flock to escort us.”
   “Well they are angels and angels fly. Flock seems appropriate.”
   “Yes, so it does.”
We spent the entire day along that rail watching and laughing and wondering at the great creatures that they were. The Angelimare were with us even as we turned north toward the southern coast of Ahnges. Often they would chirp and dance on their tails through the water. They made the most eerie, yet beautiful sounds as they chattered. They seemed to have something to say. I only wish I could have known what that was. As the suns set, the wind died, and as suddenly, as if called home the Angelimare turned as one, dove into the sea, and swam away.
   The cook came to the deck and banged a wooden spoon against the deck bell to call us to dinner. We ate, then went to our cabin to gather a few instruments, then went up on deck to play for the crew.
   The ship moved through the water propelled more by current than wind, but we were still on our heading and the quiet seas allowed us a good audience. We played well into morning until the spotter called out,    “Land!”