Some news of Vanessa Hawkins who has been caught by the massive cyber beast

 Since Vanessa is one of the unlucky ones who isn't able to access her internet or her social media, BWL Publishing is sharing some of her book news to entertain her readers who I am sure will be missing her monthly post.

---

Scarlette Fortune has been watching the turmoil of Comero City since the start of prohibition. As the city’s first female copper, and one of the only vampires on the force, she’s eager to make a good impression with the brass. With goblin gangs stirring up trouble, a demon bar selling liquor to half the city, and every other officer on the take, a bust at the local docks seems like a good place to start. But it only puts her in the crosshairs of the city’s most powerful criminals, including local dragon Shad O’Rahin.

Disguised in human form, Shad’s been running a speakeasy and the last thing he needs is the law after him. When he approaches Scarlette to scare her off his tracks, he doesn’t expect to fall in love. Things seem to be looking up for both of them until the anti-monster organization, AMO, rolls into town ready to clean up Comero. Their first priority? Dragon-slaying.

Scarlette’s new beau isn’t prepared to confront the issue without his scales on. So what can she do? A vampire copper should be keeping her head down with monster hunters around… especially when her ex is leading the AMO task force.

 

---

 

Simon Todd is an everyday accountant, who after unceremoniously falling from his neighbor's roof, somehow finds himself dead and transformed into a ghost on a quest to find dragon treasure.

 

He is joined on his journey by the horrid scoundrel and gunslinger, Dick Dashing, the sweet and powerful necromancer Miss Baxter, and Jane -- not John -- Darcy (the dragon in disguise who doesn’t quite understand the nuances of gendered nomenclature).

 

While traversing across the country of Freland, the unlikely party discovers that their trek for gold is involved in a conspiracy with wizard mobsters. Mages begin appearing who attempt to collect Miss Baxter for ransom, and Simon (smitten by the young, undead-wielding wizardess) finds himself within the center of a revolt against the unscrupulous Chancellor Heironymous Grimguild, leader of the wizard mafia. To make matters worse, Simon is confronted by Hell Lords, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, and circus-crazed Reapers bent on sending the hapless accountant to hell! If he can’t get the hang of his ghostly powers, Simon Todd will be less a help but more a burden to his ragtag party of friends.    

 

Meanwhile Jane, the proud purple diamond-backed dragon in disguise who had originally thought to devour the would-be treasure bandits, must decide which is more important: his wonderful hoard, or the increasingly endearing bundle of fools he has found himself amidst. 

 

Can Simon help Miss Baxter evade the mafia of decorated wizards? Will he be able to bargain the Reapers for his life and procure for himself even a modicum of dragon treasure? Will humans prove too sweet for a gentleman dragon’s diet?

 

Editorial Review from Rabid Reader

 

Witty, imaginative, stylish, and very well-written fantasy

Hawkins had me at the beginning when her protagonist died, falling off the roof, while spying on his beloved. Yep, he spends the book as a ghost and that's the kinda book it is. Fantastic. It's like the Coen brothers conspired to make a steam-punk, British tale of whimsy, fantasy, and fun, yet Hawkins ain't British or a Coen. I loved this book. When it takes a turn toward cliche, it veers hard off the beaten path. A major character is a dragon in human disguise who chose (due to his literary leaning) the unfortunate name of Mr. Jane Darcy. Nominally steam-punk, Hawkins' book is so much fun, I couldn't wait for it to end. Definitely looking forward to Ms. Hawkins' further writing. Highly recommended to fantasy readers or, heck, just plain readers. I don't like fantasy that much. But I do love this book.

The Human Library by J. S. Marlo

 

Seasoned Hearts

"Love & Sacrifice #1"

is now available  

click here 

 

 

The Red Quilt 

"a sweet & uplifting holiday story"

click here 

  

J. S. Marlo's BWL Books

I stumbled on a post on Facebook about Human Library. I should have been writing, but the post was intriguing, so I couldn't resist digging deeper.

In a Human Library, you borrow a person instead of a book to listen to their life story for 30 minutes. The tag line is "Unjudge Someone". The goal is to fight prejudice and to remind people not to judge a book, any book, by its cover.

Each human book has a title: "Unemployed", "Cancer Survivor", "Autism", "Wheelchair User", "Refugee"... 

Human books interacts with their readers in a safe place where difficult questions can be asked and honest answers can be given. All human books are volunteers who personally experienced their topics.

The first Human Library event took place in Copenhagen, Denmark, in 2000. Today, human books are available in more than 80 countries, including Canada, USA, Australia, and most European countries.

For more info, visit humanlibrary.org

Happy Reading & Stay safe!

JS

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

 

The Muse of Nature by Eileen O'Finlan

 

   

Click here for purchase information

Click here to visit Eileen O'Finlan's website

I recently spent a day at the New England Botanic Garden at Tower Hill in Boylston, Massachusetts. I used to have a membership there, but let it lapse during the COVID shut down. I figured I wouldn't be able to go anyway, so there was no sense in paying for something I couldn't use. But a few weeks ago my sister and her friend came to visit from Florida and wanted to go. My niece joined us and the four of us spent a lovely day wandering the gardens and woodland paths.

As I guided them out to the Belvedere, I remembered days that I had spent sitting alone in that Grecian-style structure. Those were days when I'd spend hours writing in my notebook, every so often looking out at the woods, the land below gently falling away, Mount Wachusett rising in the distance above the ribbon of blue that is the Wachusett Reservoir. It seemed that whenever my writing steam began to fade all I had to do was drink in the view for a moment and something would come to mind. Nature has that influence on me. It feeds my soul and my imagination.

As I stood with the others looking out at the view, my hands suddenly itched for a notebook and solitude. 

I think it's time to renew my membership.

View from the Belvedere 

Wildlife Refuge Pond at Tower Hill - Another inspiring location

Hush

 

Hush

Jay Lang

http://bookswelove.net/lang-jay/

 

Hush

An Excerpt 

Pulling over to the side of the road, I turn off the engine and grab my phone from the seat. With my heart racing as fast as my mind, I quickly redial her. The automated message comes on immediately.

I feel the panic rising. I place the phone in the cubby and look at my watch. It’s 10:45pm. The last ferry leaves in fifteen minutes. I’m too far away from the terminal, but I’ve got to try. 

Tall trees reach high up to the small strip of night sky. My foot is heavy on the pedal, the truck fighting to stay on the winding road.

 

Chapter Two

 

The soft chatter of people I barely know reduces to white noise as I make my way in the direction of the red mahogany casket. I take a seat at the front, next to Mom, and I put a hand on hers. Denny is sitting on her other side, concentrating on his phone. He briefly looks up at me, showing his indifference, and then resumes texting.

“You look nice, Ma.”

She forces a grin while keeping her eyes forward. She’s pale and looks lost. Her cream skirt and matching blazer hang loosely from her body. The last two weeks in hospital have taken a toll on her already spindly frame. Besides the bandage on her forehead, the only other reminder of what happened is a small black brace on her right knee.

A lady wearing a flowered dress and a cardigan walks across the stage and sits at the organ.

When she starts to play, the chatter in the room dissipates. Mrs. Rumble, who is sitting on the bench behind us, taps my shoulder and offers her condolences.

The next hour of the pastor’s sermon is painful, not because I feel sad, but because of the guilt I have for not feeling anything at all. My father was a son of a bitch and I was his greatest regret. As I was a child full of promise in the beginning, he would bounce me on his knee and help me with my homework. In his mind, I would be a doctor or a lawyer, not a salmon hatchery worker and definitely not a lesbian. Hence my banishment at twenty-two to our summer cottage on Gabriola—far away from the West Vancouver palace I grew up in, and far away from his disappointed eyes.

When the service ends, the pastor and Denny walk down the aisle to the exit then wait to thank people for coming. What a crock of shit. Most of these people hated my father. The only respect they had for him was fear-based. He was a shrewd businessman and if you weren’t for him, you were against him. Undoubtedly, there are a few people in this room that were on the wrong end of his wrath.

 

Memories of the 4th of July by S. L. Carlson

I am S. L. Carlson, a proud and grateful BWL Publishing Inc. author. My books can be viewed and purchased by visiting https://www.bookswelove.net/carlson-s-l

Memories of the 4^th of July by S. L. Carlson

I realize Books We Love is a Canadian Press. Realize, too, that I am an American. Hence, 4^th of July memories on this blog post day of the 4^th of July.

 

My dad loved the 4^th of July. Actually, he loved being able to buy and set off the illegal M-80’s. Loud-loud bangs. I grew up with Dad exploding those as near to us as he dared. When I was engaged, Jeff and I went to my parents’ home over the 4^th of July. Dad threw an M-80 near my bare feet. I was used to Dad doing that, but it was always unexpected. As it went off, Jeff pulled me to behind him, protecting me. (My hero.) Dad was so impressed with Jeff’s quick action, that he didn’t set off another firework that entire weekend.

 

Jeff and I lived for ten years in Buffalo, New York. Our house was a fifteen-minute drive to one of the bridges going over the Niagara River. Our summer vacations, when our boys were small, were spent at our favorite Provincial Park: Algonquin. Canada is dear to my heart. And we still have dear friends residing there.

 

Living so very close to Canada, and with Canada Day being on the 1^st of July, the entire area celebrated a weeklong Friendship Festival. Events. Reenactments. Food. Parades. Parties. And, of course, fireworks every night throughout many locations on both sides of the river.

[picture many fireworks shots here]

One year, we watched fireworks from about a mile away from a third-floor gym. After about twenty minutes, the fireworks ended. We waited, then we finally went to bed. In the morning, we read in the newspaper (pre-internet), that one of the holders for the fireworks fell over. The lit projectile miraculously passed through a crowd of hundreds watching, crossed the road, and burst through the first doors of a hospital, exploding in that enclosed area. No one was hit or hurt!

 

My one and only trip to England was over the 4^th of July. While there, Jeff and I kept rather hush-hush about our nationality, because many Americans can be rather obnoxious travellers. Something we actually witnessed. Needless to say, there were no fireworks, but some brilliant memories.

 

We also lived in the Black Hills of South Dakota for nearly ten years. That is a strikingly beautiful, but semi-arid land, and so for several years no fireworks were permitted because of wildfire danger. (It only takes a spark!) One year, a friend was visiting, so we decided to bite the bullet, fight the crowds, and go hours early out to Mount Rushmore to watch fireworks set off over the four presidents. Although we were there four hours early, we still had to park more than a mile away on a 2-lane hill near Keystone. Walk-walk-walk. No place in Amphitheatre left to sit. Found some free ground, quickly surrounded by others. Plopped down. Wait-wait-wait. Fog rolls in. FOG? The Hills are never foggy! There were times we could not even see the lit-up granite faces. Fireworks delayed an hour. Then another thirty minutes. Then, about 11 PM, cancelled. Walk-walk-yawn-walk downhill back to the van. Some kind driver finally allowed us pull out. The following night it was clear, but we didn’t feel like going back up for another long-long wait. We made designs with sparklers in our backyard.

Then we lived in Battle Creek, Michigan, for about ten years. The 4^th of July weekend was called Field of Flight, with air shows and hot air balloon races. The non-commercial airport was about a mile from our house, so we had the privilege of watching/hearing the US Thunderbirds or Blue Angels or the Canadian force Snowbirds practicing and performing over our house. What a thrill raced down me at each of their passes.

There were also hot air balloons each morning and evening, depending on weather and wind. It was so cool to hear the “fffffft” of fire air going into balloons right over our roof. I’d rush outside to wave and give a shout out to the pilots.

Oftentimes, it was neighborhood dogs who set off the alarm of the hot air balloons approaching. Of course, the end of the festival concluded with fireworks.

In one of my unicorn books, I included fireworks through the POV of my main character who had never seen them before. Can you imagine? I hope you can. If not, read about it in a BWL book.

 

Happy celebrating, however you do. Build those memories.

 

 

S. L. Carlson Blog & Website: https://authorslcarlson.wordpress.com

BWL Inc. Publisher Author Page: https://www.bookswelove.net/carlson-s-l