The Concrete Giant, by J.C. Kavanagh

 

The award-winning trilogy, The Twisted Climb
Click below for purchase options!

https://www.bookswelove.net/kavanagh-j-c/

It's heralded as one of the top attractions in Canada and identified as one of the seven modern wonders of the world. Built to service communication needs and later, the city's tourism industry, Toronto's CN Tower, (Canada's National Tower), took just three years to build at a cost of $63 million Canadian dollars. Construction began in February 1973 and continued through each Canadian season, opening in June 1976. The final height is a dizzying 553.3 metres (1,815.3 feet) which includes the broadcast antenna portion of 96.1 metres (315 feet).

Me proving once again that taking a 'selfie' involves very little of 'self.'

There are no specific, numbered floors until you get to approximately 1,100 feet. That's when you're on the first of eight floors, with the top floor at almost 1500 feet. On these levels you will find several observation areas, including the fear-factor-inducing Edgewalk. At this point, 356 metres (1,168 feet), you are in the open air, harnessed to a steel bar above, and free to 'walk the circle' of the tower. You'll also find the Top of Toronto restaurant, billed as the tallest restaurant in the world. Here, views of the city are not limited to where you're seated: the restaurant completes a full revolution every 72 minutes.

For thrill-seekers, strap yourself to the Edgewalk on top of the main pod.
(Photo by Sergiu Dumitriu @wikimedia.org)
Would you do this?

Futuristic, science-fiction like photo of the CN Tower main pod under construction, 1975.
Photo by Robert Taylor, (Bobolink) @wikimedia.org

The engineers who designed the CN Tower originally called for a super-crane to raise the communications antennae up to the top. However, when a Sikorsky helicopter from a civilian operator became available, the 36 antennae pieces were lifted and positioned during a period of three and a half weeks, saving over six months of construction time.

Skycrane helicopter 'Olga' lifting one of 36 antenna segments, March 1975. 
(Photo by WikiPedant @wikimedia.org)

CN Tower is the 3rd highest freestanding tower in the world.

For 32 years (1975 to 2005), Toronto's CN Tower was recognized as the tallest freestanding structure in the world. With dozens of towers/buildings/structures vying the for this prestigious honour, the Guinness Book of World Records re-defined the definitions of 'tower,' 'free-standing,' and 'building.' In 2009, China's Canton Tower took the top honour of freestanding tower at 604 metres or 1,982 feet. Two years later, Japan's Tokyo Skytree became the tallest tower at 634 metres or 2,081 feet.

How many times will lightning strike?

According to the CN Tower's website, pictured above, lightning strikes the tower approximately 75 times a year. The metal components of the antennae attract lightning, so the engineers incorporated multiple copper strips into the structure, running from the top of the tower to the bottom. Because copper conducts electricity so thoroughly, the electricity that's generated from the lightning is drawn down the copper strips to the grounding rods buried below the tower. As a result, lightning strikes are safely and effectively discharged into the ground.

Visiting the CN Tower is a 'must' for anyone travelling to Toronto. If heights aren't your thing, there's always something happening at the Scotiabank Arena, or the Rogers Centre (formerly the SkyDome) and Ripley's Aquarium which is at the Tower's base. All within walking distance!

Below are the many faces of the iconic CN Tower (Photo credit: J.C. Kavanagh)

Until next time, stay safe and remember to tell the ones you love that you love them.

J.C. Kavanagh, author of
The Twisted Climb - A Bright Darkness (Book 3)
and
The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada

AND
The Twisted Climb,
voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll
Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2021
Novels for teens, young adults and adults young at heart
Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh
www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh
Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh)
Instagram @authorjckavanagh

February New Releases by BWL Publishing Inc.

Visit the BWL Publishing website for updates and promotions

1692 And All That...

 

Find my books here

I'm so happy that my new novel in the Canadian Mystery series with my co-author Jude Pittman is coming out next month! What do you think of the cover? I think this series is a fine way to learn more about Canadian history, province by province, while engaging in great stories and tacky mysteries to solve, along with resourceful amateur and professional detectives.

Our assignment was Newfoundland-- an island I've admired since seeing the enchanting musical "Come From Away." Since I'm a New Englander, a place with historic ties to Newfoundland in the colonial period, Jude and I decided to link the province's vibrant cod fishing trade to that of Salem, Massachusetts. And what was happening in 1692-93 Salem? You know it-- a witch hunt.

That got our creative juices flowing! 

Then of course, came research and lots of it. I have not set a novel this far back in time, so I thought I share some of our research that I found fascinating...

Did you know....

* That most witch hunts took place, not in the so called "Dark Ages" or medieval times, but in the period of the Renaissance?

*That there was a secret alliance between England and France that left Newfoundland's settlements vulnerable to attack during King William's War?

*That the delightful puffins of Newfoundland did not get their name until 1760? So in Spectral Evidence we needed Newfoundlanders to call them sea parrots!  

Puffin (Sea Parrot)

*That the First Peoples of Newfoundland, the Beothuk, were declared "extinct" by the 1820s, but their friends the Mi'kmaq disputed the claim. Genetic evidence have proven them right.

The Beothuk of Newfoundland

*That there are "easter eggs" in Spectral Evidence that fans of Star Trek might enjoy?

What??? Oh, yes, make it so!

 

Romantic Subplots are Fun

 

Please click this link for book and author information

I don't write romance novels, but most of my mystery and suspense books have romantic subplots. This shouldn't be surprising since I love Jane Austen's novels, which always centre on romance. A few years ago, while visiting my friend Barb in the UK, we went to Jane Austen's home in Chawton and dressed in costumes of the times. 

Jane Austen had the romance formula down pat - keep the lovers in conflict and separated through the story until the end, when they realize they are right for each other. Their conflict and separation can be caused by external problems (family objections, war, geography) and/or internal flaws.  

In my first novel, A Deadly Fall, my heroine/sleuth Paula struggles with both types of problems. She falls for a man who is a suspect and she's committed to a boyfriend (two external impediments). Internally, she's burned from her recent divorce. As the story progresses, Paula learns she must take risks to find love again. 

In book # 4 of the series, Paula and her current boyfriend are stranded on different continents due to the COVID-19 world shutdown. Their separation challenges their relationship. But the novel's greater romantic subplot belongs to Detective Mike Vincelli, a secondary narrator. Mike is attracted to a coworker, but his fear of failure and reluctance to shake up his comfortable life conflict with his desire to make their involvement personal.

Typically the romantic subplot reflects the protagonist's personal journey in stories that are primarily about other things--finding the treasure, defeating an enemy army, solving a murder. While navigating romantic entanglements, heroes and heroines learn the lessons they need to resolve their problems.    

My current mystery-novel-in-progress, A Killer Whisky, has two romantic subplots. The main one features my two story narrators, Katharine, who witnesses a suspicious death, and Bertram, the detective investigating the case. The story is set in 1918, during the last days of WWI. Katharine's loyalty to her husband fighting in France clashes with her attraction to the attentive detective. Bertram's obstacles are largely internal--he can't move past the deaths of his wife and son. Through the story events, Katharine and Bertram must discover what they want in life and from each other after the war is over.  

A Killer Whisky's second romantic subplot involves two suspects, who are non-viewpoint narrators. Their romance fuels the murder investigation plotline. I find their relationship fun and am curious to see how their romantic subplot works out.

Or doesn't work out.  

When romance is merely a subplot, it doesn't have to follow the romance novel tradition of bringing the lovers together in the end. Actually, my impression is that romance novels today don't require this either. I can't think of book example that breaks the rule but a successful romantic comedy movie springs to mind ** spoiler alert ** My Best Friend's Wedding.

Whatever your current real-life romantic journey -- Happy Valentine's Day! 

 

         Me in Puerto Vallarta with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. Their grand romance had numerous ups and downs that captured the world's imagination.  

             

Winter Walking by Karla Stover

 

 FIND KARLA'S BOOKS HERE

By the Same Author:

A Line to Murder

Murder: When One Isn't Enough

Wynter's Way

Parlor Girls

 

 

The roast is in the oven, the potatoes are peeled, and the dog and I are hiking in the woods. Winter-woods walking is different from summer hiking. For one thing, it’s easier to see the dead leaves, twigs, plant stalks, and animal droppings which nature is gradually turning into rich, forest compost. Unexpectedly I spot a lone oak leaf carried by the wind clear from the other end of the county where they’re native. However, mostly our trail is covered with maple leaves, many still retaining their color. As a child, I ironed maple leaves with wax paper to help them retain their beauty. Four years ago, University of Washington scientists got a grant to check the possibility of tapping big leaf maples here for syrup. Two good reasons to love them. Watch out Vermont.

After drying up in summer heat, moss has returned, thanks to recent rain. Moss has been used for everything from surgical dressings by World War 1 doctors, to diapers by Native Americans. It’s a lovely contrast to gray-green bits of fallen lichen. I’m worried, though, because where I walk, moss is losing a competition to a ground cover I’ve been unable to identify.

The dog chases a squirrel into a cluster of Oregon Grape. Both the Indians and the pioneers used it for medicine, food, and dye. But where we’re walking, there’s more salal than Oregon grape. Salal has sticky berries which, when very young, I used to put on my earlobes. The Indians were more practical, turning the berries into cakes, or drying them to treat indigestion, colic and diarrhea, and respiratory diseases such as colds or tuberculosis. I’ve had salal berry pie; it’s very dense. Not to ignore the Oregon grape, though. It also had its uses, mainly to fight parasites and viruses.

The woods have lots of green, my favorite color. Sword ferns snuggle against Douglas firs which the Salish Indians used to ward off ghosts. When we bought our house, there was a copse of all these natives but it lacked two types of trees: cedars, which I brought in, and madrona which are notoriously difficult to propagate. My family had a number of elderly Indian friends who told me their women used madrona’s orange berries to make necklaces and various decorations. I recently learned that once dried, the berries have hooked barbs which latch onto animals for migration. How cool is that? Along our forest trail, the madrona’s peely-ochre trunks stand out among the green.

Eventually, my dog and I break out of the trees and into a clearing where we pass a spread of the ground cover, kinnikinnick. Before tobacco became the go-to plant for Old World smokers, they sought out the nearest patch of kinnikinnick, a word that actually means “smoking mixture. Some articles I’ve read claim it’s becoming endangered. And my hike is endangered, too. Sadly, the sight of it means our walk in the woods is over. So, back to the kitchen I go.

When the Polar Vortex Hit Alberta - By Barbara Baker

Day 1 - My thermometer reads minus 37 Celsius. I can’t complain though. Global News warned us for a week that a Polar Vortex was about to hit Alberta. Initially, I doubted them, but they were pretty insistent, so yesterday I did a grocery run just in case they got it right this time.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate winter. In fact one of the aspects I enjoy is being able to put on layers of clothing to stay warm, whereas in summer, if it gets too hot there are only so many layers I can take off before it gets offensive to those around me.

In the afternoon I watch Bruce Springsteen, Neil Diamond and Johnny Reid music videos while I get 10,000 steps on the elliptical. The evening news stresses the dangers of frostbite, lists the closed ski resorts and posts a city map of all the warming shelters set up for both people and pets.

Day 2 - I marvel at the accuracy of the forecast. Highs of minus 33. After regular tasks are done, I organize miscellaneous drawers. Glancing out the living room window where chickadees and nuthatches take turns at the feeder, I wonder when and how we managed to accumulate this much clutter.

I add Meatloaf’s “Bat Out of Hell” and “Hot Summer Night” to my music videos and do a cardio workout in the basement.

Friends vacationing or living in warmer places send pictures of large iguanas, green grass and sandy beach sunsets. I reply with frozen emojis.

Day 3 – The afternoon high will get to minus 31.  I check the tidy drawers before I tackle a day of housecleaning. I want to be ready for the ski hills when they reopen. Because of active cleaning I only need 4,650 steps on the elliptical. I add Jelly Roll’s “Save Me” to my music videos.

Day 4 – It’s minus 34. I need to get out of the house. And we’re out of coffee. Since the store is only eight blocks away, I dress in my warmest gear – snow pants, thick scarf, down mitts, long parka, fuzzy toque, unattractive winter boots and goggles. I put my wallet on the chair and turn to take a quick check in the mirror. No exposed skin. Perfect.

I take off on my coffee run.

When I step outside, even with the scarf over my mouth and nose, I gasp and hunch my shoulders forward against the brisk breeze. My goggles fog up instantly forcing me to exhale into my collar.

Snow squeaks with each step. Crosswalks glazed with white ice require penguin-style walking. There is no one on the street or sidewalk. When I crest the hill, the wind increases. I scrape frost off my goggles as tires screech to a stop next to me. 

“Do you need a ride?” someone shouts.

“No, I’m good,” I holler back.

“It’s really cold,” they caution me.

I wave them on. What a friendly soul and possibly a rocket scientist.

Almost there.

The automatic door screeches open slowly. Once inside, I shake hard to let warm air circulate through to my skin. There is no coffee on sale so I grab the cheapest box.

At the till the clerk scans it as I search for my wallet. So many layers. So many pockets. None of which hide my wallet. I stare at the clerk like maybe she knows where I put it. She smiles and waits. I search again and pull out my phone.

“I’m sorry. I forgot my wallet.” I look at my phone and back to her. “Can I pay with an e-transfer?”

She shakes her head. “You can tap it with a credit or debit card.”

“Yeah, I don’t have that set-up.”

She puts the box of coffee on the shelf behind her and I head back outside. How could I forget my wallet? On the way home, I stay warm by chastising myself for being forgetful. I blame it on aging. Oh well. It was a gallant effort on my part, and I got aired. Maybe I can drink tea. No. That will never happen.

The house door squeals when I open it. And there sits my wallet. Right where I left it - on the chair by the mirror.

“I found coffee and toilet paper in the basement in our tornado-COVID stash,” my husband calls out. “It’s past the best-before-date.”

“How far past?” I hang up all my layers.

“January 2020. Google says it might taste a bit weaker, but it shouldn’t kill us.”

“Good to know.”

How sweet is he that he knows I’m anal about expiry dates? A healthy helping of expired alfalfa sprouts did it to me forty-five years ago.

Day 5 – Google was right. We didn’t die from the expired coffee and the news promises the Arctic Vortex will pass in a few days. Ski hills are still on standby or closed.

A brisk walk outside and then more time on the elliptical. I add “The Sound of Silence” by Disturbed to my music collection. Totally stepping out of my comfort zone, but damn he does an amazing job with the song.

I pull out a puzzle from Christmas and we assemble the border. I organize the pieces into colour trays. 500 pieces. Wow. The cold snap can’t end soon enough.

Alberta Alert announces rotating power outages. We bring in firewood and find flashlights.

Relatives in Germany message to see if we are okay.

Day 6 – A repeat of Day 5 with minimal puzzle progress.

Day 7 – I wake up to a balmy minus 15. Hallelujah. There is now a snowfall warning in our forecast. I put the puzzle away for the next cold snap and pull our ski bag closer to the door.

Take that Polar Vortex.

See you next time.

 

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

 

 

Twice Hungover. 1000 Words a Day by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 

 

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

    

    So tonight I am hosting a workshop called Ink and Intimacy through the Writer's Federation of New Brunswick. I'm pretty pumped. To keep everything PG however, I won't say much about it, other than it should be a fun time. Sometimes I wonder if workshops are the writing equivalent to Onlyfans. I guess they sound better on a resume than username SexyNess699. 

I do like holding workshops. I've two this week, as well as a radio interview, a book club, a writer's retreat and a reading. I'm not sure how I am still able to string together words, but I'm getting by. I've also committed to writing 1000 words a day until my next book: Twice Hung, is finished. 

 See it? Isn't it a spiffy cover? I've not talked about it much, mostly because I am still in the process of writing it, but now that its nearing completion I figure throwing a hint or two each month isn't a bad idea. 

If you haven't heard, Books We Love Publishing has been releasing their Canadian Historical Mysteries for the past several months. This is my contribution, or... it will be, once I'm finished with it. Since this is a bit out of my typical genre, it's been challenging at times, but I am really starting to enjoy it. I find a glass of wine or two really helps to lubricate my writing prowess, though I do have to be careful that I'm not 'Twice Hungover' once its completed. 

Has anyone else ever written something out of their comfort zone? If so, I'd love to hear about it.     

Valentine by J.S. Marlo

  

 

The Red Quilt 

Sweet Christmas Story

 Click here to buy

 

 

  

J. S. Marlo's BWL Books

I have lunch at my local Sr. Centre once a week to visit with my friends. This week is Valentine's Day, and ahead of that Special Day, someone shared surprising facts about that day. I don't know how accurate these facts are, but they are nonetheless interesting.

- Valentine's Day became a holiday associated with love and romance in the 1300s. Prior to that, it was celebrated by sacrificing animals and smacking women with animal hides to encourage fertility.

- First valentine was sent in 1415 by a 21-year-old medieval Duke named Charles who was imprisoned in the Tower of London. This is one of the lines of the note he sent to his wife. "I am already sick of love, My very gentle Valentine."

- Giving flowers only became a popular gesture in the late 17th century. It started with King Charles II of Sweden when he learned red roses symbolize deep love.

- Nearly 250 millions of roses are grown in preparation of Valentine's Day every year.

- In 2023, Americans spent $26 billions on Valentine's Day gifts. Candy is the most popular gift.

- Americans send 145 million Valentine's Day cards each year.

- First heart-shaped box was introduced in 1861 by Cadbury.

- February 14th is one of the most popular days for mariage proposals after Christmas and New Year.

- Apparently, Valentine's Day horror movies are a thing... though definitely not on my personal list of things to do on Valentine's Day, or any other day.

- Lovebirds are actual birds. A lovebird is a type of parrot found in the eastern and southern regions of Africa. The lovebirds typically travel in pairs. Aren't they adorable?

Hugs,

J. S.

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

Creating a Home Library - A Labor of Love by Eileen O'Finlan

Click here for purchase information

I recently took on a labor of love in my home - turning an unused room into a library. "Labor of love" is definitely the right term. There is a tremendous amount of both involved. 

After having the furniture that was in the room removed, I had to do battle with a slew of killer dust bunnies. I was able to banish them, but they took their revenge by inducing a lot of non-stop sneezing.

Next came removing all the books from all five bookcases in my living room as well as the books on the built-in shelves on either side of the fireplace and carrying them, one bag at a time, to the soon-to-be library. Following that, I carried each bookcase into the room. With so many books taking up the floor space it wasn't easy getting the bookcases into the room. I can't imagine what I'll do in the coming days when I bring in the books from five more bookcases coming from other rooms. I could load the books into the bookcases already there, but I really want to organize them first.

                                  

I've had to rethink my plans more than once. I originally wanted to put my antique secretary desk and my papasan chair in the library, but now I realize that even though I might be able to squeeze them in, they will make the room very overcrowded. Instead of the papasan, I moved in my bentwood rocker. I'll wait on the secretary and see how much room is available when I'm finished. (With the removal of the bookcases from the living room, there is now enough space in there for the papasan so all good!) I'm also planning to put the round rock maple table in the center of the room as a place to spread out my books, notes, and documents for my novel research.

That should give you an idea of the "labor" part. Now for the "love."

Having a home library has always been one of my heart's desires. Seriously, I could sit and gaze as shelves of books in the same way one gazes dreamily at a lover. (Add a cat into the picture and I'm over the moon!) So, the fact that this is becoming a reality has me in raptures. I can just picture myself gently rocking in my rocking chair reading a book or sitting at the table diligently researching my next novel. I nearly swoon thinking about it.

Labor of love? You bet! Lugging books, bookcases and other assorted furniture is a small price to pay for what it will be in the end.

When It's Cold Outside

Read a scene below!

Do you like to read winter stories at this time of year? According to most of the feeds on my social media, my friends and family are deeply buried under blankets of snow trying to stay warm. With wind chills in the negative numbers, it might not be the ideal weather to go ice skating. However, it is the ideal time to write about it, because I can stay close to the fire while looking outside for inspiration. I share a scene from “Spinning Through Time” where a woman from modern day Dallas unexpectedly spends the winter in 1874 Philadelphia:

The single horse had no trouble pulling the sleigh across the hard packed snow on the lane, and Nicholas assured them the pond lay close enough to the road that they wouldn’t have far to walk. Immediately upon arriving at the pond, he gathered enough wood to start a small fire should they get chilled while skating.

While Molly helped Amanda put on her skates, Jaci struggled with her own, swatting aside petticoats and heavy velvet skirts. “It was much easier in pants and a sweater,” she mumbled under her breath, wondering how on earth she would ever stand up, much less skate across the frozen pond.

“What’s that, Miss?” The ever vigilant Molly lifted her head from lacing Amanda’s skates.

“Never mind. It’s of no consequence.” Jaci stopped in the middle of knotting the second skate. Dear me, I’m even beginning to talk like them.

Her thoughts were immediately diverted when Amanda squealed. She straightened her skirts carefully around her legs as she watched the child glide out onto the ice, her cheeks rosy with cold and excitement. For such a young child, she skated exceptionally well.

“Miss Eastman, perhaps you would stay warmer if you got off that log and moved about.”

She glanced up sharply as a shadow crossed her vision. Nicholas, handsome as always in his greatcoat and wool trousers, extended a hand to her. The air floated about his head in frozen puffs as he spoke.

She wondered when she had fallen in love with him. The words didn’t surprise her today, even though two days ago she had protested such an idea. Deep in her heart, she had already known the truth. She shook her head in wonder.

For most of her adult life, she had tried to avoid macho males who wanted to run her life, and yet here she was, stuck in the wrong century with just such a man. And the problem? She didn’t seem to mind it.

Nicholas had a magnetic personality which drew others to him, herself included, and his smile was enough to make a girl faint, or swoon, or whatever they did in 1874. He had a terrific sense of humor, talked to her intelligently and not in a condescending manner, and seemed to value her as an individual. Of course, when they argued, it was as violent as the thunderstorms that shook the earth, but even their fights had sent shivers of excitement through her.

So what’s the problem? She asked herself. Aside from the fact that she didn’t belong here and didn’t know how long she would stay? She shook her head to clear it as she allowed him to pull her out onto the ice, deciding today wasn’t made for worrying.

“You’re much more graceful on skates than the back of a horse,” he teased as he skated in front of her.

Her skirts billowed out about her, but she found they didn’t inhibit her movements like she thought they would.

Nicholas was showing off by tipping forward, one foot lifted behind him in the air. She pushed him, catching him off balance. He wobbled and fell on his fanny.

“Alas, it’s too bad you’re not. Do you always end up on your as...derriere?” She stood in front of him to judge his reaction.

His grin was infectious, and she threw back her head and laughed, tossing all her dire thoughts to the wind. She turned and skated away, but he quickly caught up with her.

“Here, try this,” he challenged as he expertly turned in front of her, capturing her hands in his and resting one of them on his shoulder. With no apparent effort on his part, he skated backwards while guiding her into the steps of a waltz. Though awkward at first, she soon found she actually did move more gracefully on skates with all her petticoats than she did on dry land. She began to hum a tune in time to their movements.

Did he feel the electricity like she did; the need to touch him even when she knew she shouldn’t? She tilted her head back, her gaze taking in the wayward lock of black hair falling across his forehead, the gray at the temples that only enhanced his appearance. When she shrugged negligently to relieve the tension, he grinned, his full sensuous lips parting to reveal straight white teeth. She lightly tugged on his lapels to bring him closer.

As often as they had kissed recently, she should have been prepared. Even so, it amazed her at how quickly she saw passion ignite in his gaze before her eyes drifted closed.

The buzzing in her head reminded her of the accident at the carousel, and she wondered if she would open her eyes and be back in Dallas. Perhaps becoming involved with a man from the wrong century was what she needed to return to her own time.

When the pressure on her spine and mouth lessened and she opened her eyes, however, she found Nicholas staring strangely at her. Her mittened fingers shook as they touched her mouth, still tender from his kiss; her heart pounded a rhythm too fast to count. She had remained in Nicholas’s time. Tears stung her eyes as she realized she was immensely glad she had not been transported.

“Uncle Nicholas, Miss Eastman — watch!” Amanda called for their attention and she didn’t have time to dwell on her mixed up emotions.

“Be careful, Muffin,” Nicholas called to his niece, ever mindful of their safety. Jaci heard the yearning in his voice, and knew he thought of Amanda as his own daughter.

“Oh, Uncle Nicholas, you know I am. Don’t be an old fuddy-duddy.”

Suddenly her scream rent the still morning. Horrified, Jaci watched as, in slow motion, Amanda began to sink through the ice.

“Amanda!” Nicholas bellowed a denial even as he raced toward the hole that had swallowed his niece.

***

            If you’d like to find out what happens next, grab a copy of “Spinning Through Time” at

https://books2read.com/Spinning-Through-Time.

 ***

            If winter isn’t your thing but you still want a getaway, how about taking a trip to a ghost town in Nevada (Prospecting for Love); the gold mines of the Black Hills (Loving Charlie Forever) or travel the river on a riverboat (Hold on to the Past). Time travels are quite inexpensive and require no luggage or boarding passes! Find all my time travels and more at https://bwlpublishing.ca/baldwin-barbara/.

Regardless of what the groundhog says, spring WILL come and we will CELEBRATE!

Barb Baldwin

http://authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin