New Book Coming!

To celebrate the release of The Storm of Storms, book #3 in her YA Dystopian saga, Juche, Adria Carmichael is giving the first two installments away for FREE! From September 14th to the 18th, you can download The Demon of Yodok and The Weeping Masses on Amazon for zero dollars! 

The Storm of Storms (Juche #3)

Publication Date: September 15th, 2021

Genre: YA Dystopian/ Survival

A highly addictive Young Adult Dystopian Survival Saga that will keep you glued to the pages.

Nari’s shocking revelation in the watermill changes everything in an instant, and Areum is once more faced with an impossible decision. Will she betray her sister in order to save her life, or support her and let her die? In the midst of this struggle, the storm of the century hits the camp, and life goes from hard to impossible overnight. Areum slowly comes to realize there is only one way to ensure their survival.

To escape!

But how can they escape from an escape-proof prison camp? And even if they would get past the ferocious dog patrols, the machine gun-equipped guard towers and the electrified barbed wire fence… will she be willing to condemn everyone they’re leaving behind to an inescapable end through torture and death?

Amazon

The Demon of Yodok (Juche #1)

JUCHE [dʒuːtʃe]

Just when Areum, daughter of a privileged family in the totalitarian state of Choson, thought she was free from her personal prison, her world collapses around her as her family are taken away in the middle of the night to a hell-like camp in the mountains where people who have strayed from the righteous path are brutally re-educated through blood, sweat, tears and starvation.

There she has to fight for survival together with the family she hates and is forced to re-evaluate every aspect of her life until then – her deep resentment toward her twin sister; her view of her father in face of the mounting evidence he is a traitor with the blood of millions of fellow countrymen on his hands; and even her love and affection for the Great General – the eternal savior and protector of Choson, whom she had always considered her true father.

Amazon

The Weeping Masses (Juche #2)

Areum’s hopes to be set free from the brutal political prison camp holding them is crushed, and the heinous assault on her sister plunges her into a state of shock and horror… and puts her on a collision course with her family. All hope seems to be lost. Just when she is about to give up, however, a disturbing revelation is made… and as the evil of the camp is given a face, Areum finds a new purpose to keep fighting.

Revenge!

But first they need to survive, and with the constantly harshening conditions and her family being targeted from all directions, daily life in Yodok turns into a never-ceasing fight to evade imminent doom.

On top of everything, an impossible tragedy strikes Choson, and the unquestionable truth Areum has built her life around is challenged to its very core.

Amazon

About the Author

Adria Carmichael is a writer of Young Adult Dystopian fiction with a twist. When she is not devouring dystopian and post-apocalyptic content in any format – books, movies, TV-series and PlayStation games – she is crafting the epic and highly-addictive Juche saga, her 2020 debut novel series that takes place in the brutal, totalitarian nation of Choson. When the limit of doom and gloom is reached, a 10K run on a sunny day or binging a silly sitcom on a rainy day is her go-to way to unwind.

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Simply 6 Minutes—Welcome To The Challenge: 09/14/2021


Welcome to the 6 minute challenge!

Today’s prompt is:

https://www.barnorama.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/Funny-Pictures-1942-82.jpg


*****For any participants that do NOT like restrictions, please feel free to participate in any way you would like. It is great to read the contributions!****

  1. Set up a timer or sit near a clock so you can keep track of the six minutes you will be writing.
  2. You can either use one of the prompts (photo or written) or you can free-write.
  3. Get ready and write for 6 minutes, that is it! Can you write a complete story? Can you think of a new Sonnet? Can you write 400 words? 400? 500? There are no restrictions on what kind of writing you do, but you should try to be actively writing for six minutes.
  4. After you are done writing, include your word count and then post back to this page #Simply6Minutes or include your link in the comments section. Pingbacks are enabled.
  5. *Feel free to leave your work completely unedited. I believe it is good to see, especially for new writers, that even very seasoned writers don’t write a perfect first draft.*
  6. Have fun, challenge yourself if you’d like, read and respond to others’ posts.

Thank you for participating!

**************************************************************************************************************

The Monday Peeve

Paula hosts the Monday Peeve: https://lightmotifs.wordpress.com/2021/09/13/tmp25-cardigans/

Where my dad lives…

So, my father is in a memory care unit and it is very well kept. Everyday the residents are taken off the floor where their rooms are and brought down to the Recreation Floor. This floor is huge and has many different spaces including a fake inside garden equipped with bird sounds. This Recreation Floor is on the 2nd floor.

My peeve is that my dad’s “apartment” is on the 3rd floor. The only way to get from floor to floor is with a key card that the workers have on their lanyards. That is fine, I get that they don’t want any escapees but you have to hope someone is free if you are stuck on a floor.

Last week I did my dad’s laundry. I brought it back and wanted to put it all away in his room. I went to the 3rd floor and put it away. I then wanted to get down to the second floor to see me dad. There were two people working on the 3rd floor with two residents. I asked them if they could let me down but they said they were occupational therapists and didn’t have a keycard. I called the front desk. The nice woman at the front desk said she would call someone on the second floor to come get us. Ten minutes later David and I are still waiting in the hallway. I called the desk again and the woman apologized. Someone came quickly that time. We visited with my dad and then had to find someone to let us back on the elevator to get back down to the main floor.

I wish they would just loan us a key card when we visit! We won’t let any residents out!!! We promise!

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #135

Fandango hosts this challenge: https://fivedotoh.com/2021/09/13/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-135/

writerscentre.com

As he stood before the doors he pondered his options. There were more doors than usual and given his last trip  through he wanted to make sure he chose the right one this time. His mind went back  to the last door…

I remember opening the green door. I chose green on that particular day because the trees were full of new grown leaves, the grass was freshly cut giving it a greenish glow, and the world around me seemed alive. I didn’t know at that time that green wasn’t the door for living and thriving, it was the door for rotting and spoiled, for mold upon the top of the leftovers from last week. But I had gone not knowing this. I had gone thinking of positive things and life and love. I thank God I had that positive energy, otherwise I could have been stuck there forever.

When I opened the green door last time I was greeted with an odor, an indistinct odor that I couldn’t place right away.  I  let the door close softly behind me as I looked down the path  that was waiting for me.  It was a long path and there wasn’t much around it, not like the blue door, not like the purple door either. But it was the door I chose so I would move forward. 

As I walked along I could hear the soft mewing of a cat wanting to be fed and I could hear the sucking sound of a baby nursing a bottle full of warm milk. Those were pleasant sounds, I had nothing to worry about. But as I rounded the corner, unable to see more than a few steps ahead of me, I noticed the figure, the woman in a dark green cloak, her back to me. 

She was a petite woman, much shorter than I. She was facing a counter, a sort of kitchen counter, where bottles were lined up ready for filling. As I walked closer I could hear her crying, softly sobbing, and wondered why. I didn’t want to startle the woman so I cleared my throat to alert her of my presence. She lifted her head slightly but did not turn around. Instead she continued to cry softly. 

When I  finally  reached the woman I could smell the sourness of milk, the rotting smell of old food, and then strangely mixed in, the soft smell of baby powder, tenderly spread upon a clean babys’  bottom. I wanted to turn away in disgust but instead I stepped closer, looking over her shoulder. It was there that I saw  where the smell was coming from…

The woman was holding a large carafe. In it was a large green growth, closely resembling lichen on an old dead tree. Below the carafe, in the sink she stood against, were more baby bottles, all filled with a green liquid. 

“I can’t feed my  baby this poison, this filth, but I have nothing else and he is almost done with my milk.” 

That must have been the suckling sound I had heard.

“My  baby will die here if I cannot feed him.”

“Why is the milk so spoiled?” I  asked.

“Because I can’t find any fresh milk and this is all  I have”, she replied.

Taking the carafe from her hand I tried pouring out  the milk from below the mossy growth.  The milk poured slowly, but with a pure white color, a miracle considering the top of the bowl. 

“Here is the fresh milk”, I said.

The woman turned to me, her crying had subsided. What I saw was horror. This woman, this mother, she was a monster! The flesh on her face was as hard and green as the moss on a mountain stone. Her teeth were black and her lips were cracked with dry blood. 

I turned and ran as fast as I could, pounding my feet on the path, not wanting to look back, not knowing if she was following me or not. As I came closer to the green door I felt some peace and my fear turned to sadness. I came to a stop at the opening and heard a soft song being sung. It was her. She was singing a sweet song to her baby, telling the baby he would always be okay. The singing continued, softly, gently. I breathed a sigh of relief. I would be able to get out of this horrible place but I also knew I had saved that little life. I don’t know what happened before I got there and I surely didn’t want to know what would happen once I left but I knew I had done the right thing.

Reaching for the knob he hesitated. Why  was he picking this orange door? What did orange make him think  of? What horror would orange be connected to? He took this moment to think, think hard about his uncertainty. Orange was a pumpkin in fall, waiting to be carved and lit by a candle. Orange was fresh fruit and vegetables on a summer morning. He couldn’t think  of anything that could go wrong with this door. He guessed he  would have to take his chances. 

He grabbed the knob and turned it, slowly  pushing the door open.

©2021 CBialczak Fiction

Song Lyric Sunday

Song Lyric Sunday where the theme is Devoted, Faithful, Honorable, Loyal, True suggested by Lady A.
hosted by Jim :https://jimadamsauthordotcom.wordpress.com/2021/09/12/well-its-true/

I am not new to Song Lyric Sunday as a reader, but I am as a participant. Having fun with it last week I wanted to join in again. Here is my take on the theme…the first song that popped into my head

“Give Me One Reason”

Give me one reason to stay here
And I’ll turn right back around
Give me one reason to stay here
And I’ll turn right back around
Said I don’t want to leave you lonely
You got to make me change my mind

Baby I got your number, oh, and I know that you got mine
You know that I called you, I called too many times
You can call me baby, you can call me anytime
You got to call me

Give me one reason to stay here
And I’ll turn right back around
Give me one reason to stay here
And I’ll turn right back around
Said I don’t want leave you lonely
You got to make me change my mind

I don’t want no one to squeeze me, they might take away my life
I don’t want no one to squeeze me, they might take away my life
I just want someone to hold me, oh, and rock me through the night

This youthful heart can love you, yes, and give you what you need
I said, This youthful heart can love you, oh, and give you what you need
But I’m too old to go chasing you around
Wasting my precious energy

Give me one reason to stay here
Yes and I’ll turn right back around
Give me one reason to stay here
Ooh and I’ll turn right back around
Said I don’t want leave you lonely
You got to make me change my mind

Baby just give me one reason, Give me just one reason why
Baby just give me one reason, Give me just one reason why I should stay
Said I told you that I loved you
And there ain’t no more to say

https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/tracychapman/givemeonereason.html

The Sunday Whirl: 09/12/21

My Vow to You

Kneeling down before you now
On carpets made of silk
I travel to a land I know
Where tears flow slow like milk

A line before me has been drawn
By wheels inside my head
Like flowers put before a throne
Where candles burn instead

Through the candlelight I see
A living, breathing man
And reaching out I do recall
A quickly as I can

That you are mine and I am yours
It’s not too late to see
That my heart is reaching out
Touching you tenderly

And so I ask you now my dear
If you will be my king
And with this vow I do present
A perfect wedding ring.

©2021 CBialczak Poetry

New Book!

Welcome to the book tour for Cenotaphs by Rich Marcello! Read on for details and a chance to win a fantastic giveaway!

Cenotaphs

Publication Date: July 26th, 2021

Genre: Contemporary Fiction

AFTER A CHANCE MEETING, AN OLD MAN AND A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN CHART AN UNCONVENTIONAL PATH FORWARD.

When Ben Sanna, a contemplative retiree with a penchant for helping people, and Samantha Beckett, a secretive New York City hedge fund manager, meet by chance in a small Vermont town, they enter into a tenuous relationship. Over several weeks, Samantha and Ben open their pasts inch by inch, sift through their futures consciously, and come to terms with the strength and depth of their bond. A meditation on redemption told in alternating chapters of musings and scenes, Cenotaphs is about platonic love; the ways we close ourselves off in reaction to pain and what happens when we open ourselves up again; and the deep, painful legacy of loss.

Add to Goodreads

A SORTING

The parts recur––the son, the lover, the husband, the father, the friend, the citizen. They come in whispers and fragments, in the unwinding of memory. They come in your smile, in the laughter of our children, in nightmares, in bursts of violence against once precious objects. How do you gauge the parts of a life? Did I perform any of them well? How do you summon them into an unfettered whole?

I am old now. I’d hoped I would’ve figured out a few answers by this point, but the truth is I spend more time each day watching the Red Sox than thinking about such things. In the summer and fall, the games are on every day, often twice a day, and watching them gives Zeke and me something to do. Something zen exists about the game, something appealing to me as I age, something about the stillness, the waiting, the bursts of energy, all mimicking the best and worst times in life. And I like the red, blue, and gray uniforms. They remind me of a more structured time.

Zeke, a big black, brown, and white mutt I rescued about ten years ago, keeps me company in our cabin. When I first got him, he liked digging holes in my yard, searching deep and dirty, with only a rare unearthing. His record: twenty-two holes. Twenty-two! In one of them, he found an empty wine bottle, message-less. Now, Zeke mostly sleeps in the same worn spot on the living room rug. I’m not sure which one of us will die first.

Available on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble

About the Author

Rich is the author of five novels, The Color of Home, The Big Wide Calm, The Beauty of the Fall, The Latecomers, and Cenotaphs, and the poetry collection, The Long Body That Connects Us All. He also teaches creative writing at Seven Bridges’ Writer Collaborative. Previously, he enjoyed a successful career as a technology executive, managing several multi-billion dollar businesses for Fortune 500 companies.

As anyone who has read Rich’s work can tell you, his books deal with life’s big questions: love, loss, creativity, community, self-discovery and forgiveness. His novels are rich with characters and ideas, crafted by a natural storyteller, with the eye and the ear of a poet. For Rich, writing and art making is about connection, or as he says, about making a difference to at least one other person in the world, something he has clearly achieved many times over, both as an artist, a mentor, and a teacher.

Rich lives in Massachusetts with his wife and Newfoundland Shaman. He is currently working on his sixth and seventh novels, The Means of Keeping and In the Seat of the Eddas, a follow-on to The Latecomers.

Rich Marcello | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram

Twitter Tags: @marcellor @RRBookTours #RRBookTours

IG Tags: @rich.marcello @shannon_rrbooktours #centaphs #rrbooktours

Click the link below for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card! (E-Card)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/0e7c6a8f291/?

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Book Trailer – New Book!

This looks really good!!!!

Check out the book trailer for upcoming release, Family Medicine, a chilling novel by Natasha Jeneen Thomas!

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/R3NLj1rrCpw

Family Medicine

Expected Publication Date: October 8th, 2021

Genre: Suspense/ Psychological Thriller

In one of the most beautiful cities on Earth, following your dreams could become a nightmare.
Therese Hughes-Baldwin arrives in Boca Raton with hopes of joining the most prestigious dance company in South Florida. But instead of finding ballet success, she suffers an embarrassing heartbreak and takes a boring barista job. She also inadvertently gains the attention of the woman who stalks her on every train ride she takes.

So when Therese’s favorite café customer, Dr. Dara Clemens, offers an escape to her beachside mansion, Therese can hardly say “yes” quickly enough. With her suitcase in hand and best friend Phoebe by her side, she heads to the Clemens’ oceanfront getaway. The home is gorgeous. The beach is, too. So is the stranger Therese gives her number to at the bar.

But there are voices in the vents. And there are people who stare. And Therese faces a sinking feeling that something is hauntingly off about Phoebe’s behavior. As Therese questions the motivations of those around her, she opens the door to a reality she never thought she’d find.

Pre-Order Here!

About the Author

Natasha Jeneen Thomas is a Florida-born psychiatrist and psychological suspense writer. She has spent the past eleven years in psychiatric private practice exploring individual and collective story and the power of perception. Witnessing life from the vantage point of the human psyche’s inner workings, Natasha sees the state of the world as a reflection of the stories we tell ourselves – and allow ourselves to believe.

Natasha earned a Bachelor of Science from Spelman College, studied medicine at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine, and completed residency training in psychiatry at University of Maryland and Sheppard & Enoch Pratt hospitals. In 2010, she moved to Metro Atlanta to work as an outpatient psychiatrist and has the continued honor of providing clinical care as owner & CEO of Hope Grove Psychiatry, PC. When she is not doctoring or writing, she is enjoying her family, her home, or her corner of the couch.

Learn more at http://www.natashajeneenthomas.com

Twitter Tags: @JeneenAuthor @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours #FamilyMedicine

Instagram Tags: @natashajeneenthomasauthor @shannon_rrbooktours #rrbooktours #familymedicine #booktrailerreveal #booktrailer #psychologicalthriller

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