Friday, January 9, 2015

Friday Freebits with Ginger Simpson #fridayfreebits

Happy Friday.  Today, I'm starting samplings from another book, Culture Shock. I've lost the original idea of sharing only six paragraphs, and instead am showing scenes that may help you want to know more of the story. Culture Shock contains mystery/romance/fantasy with a little paranormal stuff going on.  Here's the blurb so you can follow the story:  (Oh, BTW, this story was originally published as Beside Myself until Books We Love gave me a chance to pump new life into my story.  I believe this is a far better version and I hope you will too.)

Naïve, country girl, Cynthia Freitas, moves to the big city with high hopes, but her starting salary barely makes rent in a run-down tenement. Newspaper headlines warn of a serial killer in the neighborhood, and the article grabs her attention when she recognizes the victims bear a striking resemblance to her. Alex Carlyle is assigned to assist detectives in one of the toughest cases he’s ever experienced as a cop. Despondent over a recent break-up with his fiancé, he buries himself in his work until he meets the cute new tenant next door who gives him something else to think about except kidnap and murder. The aftermath of their first “jolting” kiss places the burden on Cynthia to solve Alex’s case and keep him from potentially becoming the next victim. 



Cynthia Freitas straddled the complementary copy of the daily newspaper lying in the hallway in front of her apartment and gulped. The thought of a kidnapper loose in her neighborhood sent a shiver up her spine. 

With two grocery bags balanced in one arm, she strained to see around them to find the keyhole. Just as she unlocked the door and stepped inside, the bottom of one sack gave way, sending her carefully-selected apples skittering across the warped floorboards. An assortment of vegetables landed in a premature salad at her feet. 

She clenched her teeth. "Damn! Damn! Double damn!" 

Not in the habit of cursing, she winced and turned to see if anyone was in the hallway and had overheard. Seeing no one, she took a deep breath, removed the dangling key, and closed the door. "You've picked up some bad habits, Cynthia Ann." 

She stepped over the spillage, still grasping the torn bag, and placed it and the intact one on the stained kitchen counter. With a deep sigh, she dropped to her knees and crawled from apple to apple until she had recaptured all the escapees, but not before crinkling her nose in disgust at the recent rodent droppings next to the stove. She made a mental note to buy a mousetrap on her return visit to the store.

With the Granny Smiths cradled in one arm, she stood and dumped the fruit into the sink. Curiosity drew her back to the hallway to retrieve the newspaper. She tucked the daily edition beneath her chin and fiddled with the deadbolt. It still wouldn't work. 


The super hadn't responded to her call, and this wasn't the best of times to have a broken lock. After placing the flimsy chain across the door, she added making another call for maintenance to her growing mental notebook. 

You can find Culture Shock on Amazon.  Tune in for more next week.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

A Page Straight From Eleanor Stem #Apagestraightfrom

Miri's Song by Eleanor Stem


Miri stood before a howling mob with her back pressed against the quarry wall. Somewhere in the depths of her dead heart, she was glad. Soon, it would be done, and she’d be gone from this place where only pain greeted her.

The sun sent hot, white light into the quarry. Its bright dance blinded her. When she tried to focus her eyes, all she could see was the shadow of a gnarled tree, and the shimmering mob that scrambled for stones at their feet.

“Harlot!” they cried, and a stone seared across her breast, followed by another, and another, until she was numb with pain.
Dust rose as men and women shuffled in the dirt for more stones, obscuring the white sky of the afternoon. Miri sagged against the wall as stones pummeled her. She did not turn away, but faced her accusers with open eyes.

She asked an uncaring god for a swift end to a life filled with carnal hardship. She had been forced into an unclean life by birth, to a place where she had not asked to be. She’d experienced the underbelly of man’s nature. It defiled not only her body, but her soul.

The stones pummeled and battered her. One crashed against her shoulder, slamming her hard against the quarry wall. She tried to keep her eyes opened. She wanted to watch her own death. Another stone hit her midsection. The impact bent her over, and she grunted in pain. She tried not to weaken and fall into the dirt. She refused to collapse before the mob, and tried to stand up, but the stone damaged something within her. Deep pain cascaded through her as she gasped, and fought for breath.
Death was nearly upon her.

Miri closed her eyes to the stones that smashed into her. She did not raise an arm to protect herself, did not turn her back to them. The bigger the stones, the harder they were thrown, the faster she’d die.
One crashed into her head and her legs buckled, but her quick descent was halted by a strong arm. Someone held her tight, and said something to her. The words did not penetrate. She could not hear what he said. She could not see or feel what happened around her except the mob who wanted her dead, and the pain of the stones as she tried to die.

In her narrowed vision of white heat and dust, she glimpsed a tall man shielding her from harm.

He yanked her upright, and held her tight. He said, “Find your feet.”

She wanted to die, and his words faded in a haze of agony.

She slumped against him.

The man pulled and tugged her through the mob toward the quarry gate. Her head sagged against his strong arm. When she found the will to open her eyes, she saw the mob had lost its howl. They stood like dark statues in the settling dust.

This is madness. An errant thought slipped through her pain. Had the stones stopped, forever, or for only a short time? Was this a trick? Somehow the man had bewitched the people. As he dragged Miri through the press, she waited for the men to scoff and the women to laugh, and the stones to begin again.

But nothing happened.

In the blistering sun, the crowd stood silent as white dust drifted at their feet. Hot breaths of bloodlust were stilled in the presence of this man who protected her. He threaded their way through the throng of now silent people. Miri could feel the palpable anger suppressed as if under a shroud of magic. He carried her while the rabble glared at them, stones hanging in loose hands.

He stood in defiance of the mob. Amazed, Miri sliced open a thought to the slim possibility of life. She let him pull and prod her against the tentative shroud of protection of the angry mob. She pressed closer to him, waiting for his next move. She tried to take a step when he took a step.

He held her, and kept her upright. People shrugged aside when they passed, and remained quiet as they reached the quarry gate.

Death now seemed farther away.

The tall man placed his big hand on her head, covering her forehead and eyes. Suddenly, warmth flowed into Miri, changing into a hot glow. Bright light swept through her body, and spread on soaring wings until it penetrated her soul. Brilliance crashed through her broken flesh, and left her breathless. She collapsed against him, knowing all in the quarry must see the dazzling, bright colors flash around them, and mingle with the glare of the white sun.

At once, the pain stopped. Her legs held her upright, and she felt whole again.

She looked up at him, and wondered what this was all about. A new sponsor, perhaps? To continue what swept her into the quarry in the first place? Her heart cried out against it.

The mob had ripped her away from a life of bitter self-destruction. She would never go back, but to leave it behind, she must die.

As bread and wine were her nourishment, death was her only salvation.

Miri wanted to rip from this strange man’s hold, and run back into the mob. She would beg them to finish killing her. Their malevolence comforted her, a small thing when matched to her self-loathing. When not overwhelmed by their need to shed her blood, she understood the anger that pressed against her from all sides. It was honest, and a balm to her broken spirit.

But she was helpless in the face of this tall man’s strength. This turn of events was too quick, and she was too stunned to react. She could only bask in the healing powers of the bright light, and warmth of his touch.

It pervaded her whole being. Her heart filled with the buds of newfound joy, and the will to live.

Buy Link

Monday, January 5, 2015

Hooray!!!!

I'm so happy to announce that Rita Karnopp is returning to Dishin' It Out in March.  I've truly missed her input and her posts that continue to teach me so much.  I know you've all missed her, too.  Here's hoping that 2015 is much kinder to her...of course her refrigerator went out on New Year's Eve and they lost $500 worth of food, but that doesn't count...it wasn't 2015 yet!

May all your woes be used, Rita, and may 2015 be your year to shine.

Friday, January 2, 2015

Friday Freebits with Ginger Simpson #Frifreebits



“Ring, damn it!” Cassie sat, curled up on the sofa, and stared at the phone. For the last hour she’d fought with herself about being the one to initiate the call, but her mother’s words echoed in her mind. “Nice girls don’t call boys. They wait.”

Cassie wondered what her mother would think about this whole Internet dating scene. Mom maintained old-fashioned standards, still believing that real men opened doors and threw their cloaks over mud puddles. Cassie opened her own doors and stepped over puddles, but the one thing she couldn’t do was fill the void of loneliness inside herself.

The phone’s loud ring sliced through the silence, startling her and ending her dilemma. She took a deep breath before she answered. She didn’t want to sound too eager.

“Hello.”

“Hi, purdy lady.”

Cassie’s heart warmed. She snuggled down on the couch and cuddled the phone between her head and shoulder.

“Hi yourself, cowboy, I was hoping you’d call.” The bold admission shocked her.

“Reckon I’d have to be a darn fool not to call. I’ve been thinking ‘bout you all day.”

Cassie chuckled. The rapid palpitations of her heart made her feel as though she was back in high school.

“What? Why are you laughin’ at me? I just couldn’t think of anything but you and wantin’ to call you tonight.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I just love your voice. You sound so cute.”

“I reckon I’m a far cry from cute, but I like that you think that. So … you thought of me today?”
“I told you I was hoping you’d call me tonight. If my mom hadn’t taught me better, I would have called you first.” Cassie swore under her breath and felt a warm flush creep up her neck. She barely knew the man and already she confessed an interest in him. What if he was a serial killer or something? She felt so conflicted.

“I sure would like to meet you in person,” Evan drawled.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little premature?”

“Pre what?”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing things? We’ve only talked on the phone a few times. I think we need to get to know each other better before we even think about meeting.”

Cassie’s own ruling caused a pang of disappointment. Maybe she was afraid of meeting him, but curiosity was killing her.

“What’d you do today?” She picked a safe question, but one that might tell her a little more about him.

“I started out drawing some landscaping plans but found myself distracted.”

“By what?”

“Thoughts of you. What else?”

“I’m sorry I interfered with your work, but flattered that your thoughts were of me.”

“You have no idea how much you disrupted my day. I tried to work but I kept checkin’ my watch.”
At the mention of time, she glanced at the clock. If only time at work went by as fast as the time she spent on the phone with Evan. Reluctantly, she put an end to their flirty banter. “Gosh, I just noticed the time. It’s late and I have some work to do before I can get some sleep. I’ve really enjoyed our chat. Call me tomorrow?”

“Sure ‘nuff, baby girl. Hope you dream of me.”

Betrayed is available with my other works on my Amazon page.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

2014 is dead and gone!

Rita and I thank you for spending time with us this past year, reading our posts and leaving a comment or two, and even sharing them with your friends.  May your life be bright, your wallet full, and your health meter never register anything catastrophic.

Newyearx2015.com

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