

Literary Lunes Magazine

May/June Issue

Edited By Beth Ann Masarik

L iterary Lunes Magazine copyright © 2012 Literary Lunes Press. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

For information about reprinting, distributing, or otherwise sharing the contents of this book, please contact Beth Ann Masarik at info@literarylunes.com

First edition, May 2012

Originally published in paperback and e-book by Literary Lunes Publications

Interior edited by Beth Ann Masarik

Cover design by Beth Ann Masarik

Smashwords Edition

Literary Lunes Magazine

www.literarylunes.com

Table of contents

Letter from the editor

Calendar of Events

Press Release

A look into Heven and Hell

By Beth Ann Masarik

Behind the Scenes with Harriet Schultz

By Beth Ann Masarik

Behind the Scenes with the Peacock Writers

By Beth Ann Masarik

Wacky Writers

By Beth Ann Masarik

Enough to Know

James Fox

Imaginary Imitator's

Matthew Wilson

High Lives

B.D. Fischer

The Midnight Heir

Erin Danzer

Poetry Palooza

Dreamcatcher Interview: Kristal McKerrington

Conducted by Tony Angelo

Alpha Reviews

By Carrie Sund

There You Have It! My Opinion

By Cambria Hebert

Cherny's Corner Book Reviews

By Bob Cherny

Luney Reviews

By Beth Ann Masarik

The Staff

Our Partners

Letter from the Editor

Dear Readers,

Thank you for picking up this issue of Literary Lunes Magazine. We have a lot in store for you in this issue! There are some new features and some old ones have returned! I am happy to welcome aboard a new reviewer who goes by the name of Bob Cherny. His column is called Cherny's Corner. I am also happy to have back Carrie Sund from Alpha Reviews!

I would also like to take the time to point everyone to our new and improved website! I still have some things to edit on it, but it is coming along nicely! I have added some new features to it including a news and media tab, a newsletter subscription form, and we even now have our own shop! Yup! You can now purchase items with the Literary Lunes logo on them!

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this jam-packed issue of Literary Lunes.

Fondly,

Beth Ann Masarik
Calendar

The following issue will be released on July 14.

Deadline for submissions for July, is June 20th. The Themes for July's issue are: Veteran's Day, Memorial Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Summer, and Independence Day.

The next issue will be released on September 8th.

Deadline for submissions for September, is August 20th. The themes for September are Summer and Labor Day.

The next issue will be released on November 10th. (or there about.) Please remember that October is my wedding month, and I will need extra help and patience from everyone from September-November. I am getting married on October 14th, and will be on my honeymoon right after that.

The deadline for submissions for November, is October 27th. The themes are Columbus Day, Halloween, Fall, and weddings!

November will be the last issue of 2012. I am going to need November and December to get acclimated into my new life as a wife of a soon to be wonderful husband! The next issue after November, won't come out until January of 2013. I will post the themes for 2013 in November's and January's issues.

Press Release

I am happy to announce that on June 6, 2012, the Writings From the Heart anthology will be released! For those of you who may have forgotten, Writings From the Heart is a collection of short stories and poetry. Thirty authors submitted their work, and have dedicated their time and energy into this project. All proceeds made from this anthology will be donated to the Steven and Alexandra Cohen Children's Medical Center of New York. It was formerly called Schneider Children's Hospital and is a part of the North Shore/LIJ health system, which is one of the largest health systems in the world. The money will be specifically donated to their pediatric cardiology unit because I myself have had open heart surgery. To celebrate my life, I wanted to give back to a hospital that has done so much for me over the last 28 years.

The anthology will be available on Amazon, Createspace, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords in paperback and ebook. I hope you will join us and support this great cause!

T he anthology will be priced at $12 paperback and $1.99 ebook (prices are subject to change between now and release date. Please visit www.literarylunes.com for the official prince information in a couple of weeks).
A look into Heven and Hell- a new series by Cambria Hebert

By Beth Ann Masarik

I am extremely excited to announce that our very own staff member, Cambria Hebert, has released not one, but two new YA/Urban Fantasy books. These books are a part of the new _Heven and Hell_ series, and I have to say, that her first book, _Masquerade_ is PHENOMINAL! I have also read her novella, Before, which is the prequel to Masquerade, and let me tell you that it is what hooked me on the series! I gobbled up Masquerade in THREE WHOLE DAYS! I seriously could NOT put the book down, and I read Before in under two hours. You can read both reviews later in this issue.

I am happy to announce that on this day, May 18, 2012, Cambria's second book in the Heven and Hell series, Charade has officially been released! She is currently running a blog tour for it and is giving away LOTS of great prizes, including autographed books! Stop by her website for more information on the tour and her books (and to watch some hot trailers!). www.cambriahebert.com.

In addition to Charade, Mrs. Hebert has recently released another novella called Between. I unfortunately have not read this one yet, but I am sure that it will be just as wonderful as the other books I have read by her.

I cannot begin to how excited I am for Cambria! Seriously! GO OUT AND BUY HER BOOKS! I don't normally push authors like this, but I can honestly tell you that you WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED!

About Charade:

_Dying at the hands of a psycho was a shock. Having my life returned to me by an angel was incredible. Being named a Supernatural Treasure and being given Sam as my guard was pretty darn awesome. Acquiring a debt_ _for it all—well, I should have seen it coming._

_Now here we are, fighting demons from Hell, caring for a boy that I just don't trust, and traveling to faraway places to return a treasure to its rightful place. Nothing is as it seems. Everyone wears a mask; everyone puts on a charade. It's up to us to separate the truth from the lies and reality from fiction. A hard task when my new reality involves fallen angels, witches and dragons... and did I mention Hell?_

_Anchoring me down through it all is Sam. Sam, who must face tragedies of his own and is put to the test again and again._

_If we fail in our task, life as we know it—life as you know it—will end. Forever._

Behind the Scenes With Harriet Schultz

Conducted by Beth Ann Masarik

W hat is your name?

Harriet Schultz

Tell us about yourself.

I'm a happily married mother of adult boy/girl twins. I grew up in New York and had a lot of fun working (at Harper's and Time magazines) and living there as a single woman after I graduated from college. I met the man I married on a trip to San Francisco and we lived there for about 15 years before moving to his home state of Maine. So I zigzagged across the country and have called two spectacularly beautiful cities home.

What do you write?

Until I wrote my contemporary romantic suspense novel, Legacy of the Highlands, I was a journalist and covered local government and politics. I also wrote opinion pieces and loved being able to express my own views instead of maintaining the objectivity required as a reporter.

Why do you write it?

Good question. I guess because I enjoy reading that kind of book. I set out to write a romance, but it turned into a suspenseful thriller with romance, adventure, twists and turns, secrets, some hot sex and — of course — a delicious hero.

Do you have any past or current releases?

My current book is Legacy of the Highlands. I'm most excited that readers say they enjoyed the read so much that they didn't want it to end and they want more of these characters. Many of them are in the sequel I'm writing now.

Tell us about it.

An ancient oath leads to murder, revenge and unexpected love in Legacy of the Highlands. When Will Cameron's body is discovered in a Boston alley, the only clue to the thirty-four-year-old's murder is a pristine Scottish sgian dubh dagger left beside it. His devastated widow, Alexandra, flees Boston to find refuge in the Miami villa of Will's best friend, Diego Navarro, who has the means, power and temperament to solve the puzzle and to avenge the senseless killing. Diego, a handsome and wealthy Argentine, is equally determined to win the grieving widow's heart. Neither of them wants to betray Will, but they find it increasingly difficult to resist a growing attraction to each other as they follow leads that take them from Miami to Buenos Aires and Scotland unraveling the Cameron family's secrets and the Legacy of the Highlands.

Who is publishing it?

After 100 rejection letters from literary agents, many of which had words similar to this: "I know I'm going to regret this, but" or "You're an extremely talented writer, but." It got to the point that I began to hate the word "but"!!! I self-published my e-book on Amazon, and then also in formats that are sold by all the usual e-book sellers. I published a trade paperback in January that is available through Createspace or Amazon. If you live in Maine, it's also in local bookstores.

Where is your favorite place to write?

I usually write on my laptop, which sits on a desk in my home office. With the door closed. It would be helpful if I didn't have an internet connection to distract me.

What do you listen to when you write?

To my initial horror, I discovered country music a few years ago, in part because so many of the men are sexy and ruggedly handsome and now I'm addicted. Jake Owen's "Alone With You" is my current favorite. I also like jazz, anything by the Beatles or Rolling Stones and the Irish rocker, Noel Gallagher.

How long have you been writing?

Professionally, for 30 years! I'm not the kind of writer who began to make up stories as a kid. My imagination didn't kick in until I began to write Legacy and that I had one was a great surprise to me!

If you could be any mythological creature, what would it be and why?

I don't know. That's lame, isn't it?

What is your guilty pleasure food?

Chocolate, pretzels, Ben & Jerry's Pfish Food ice cream and any kind of m & ms.

Where can we buy your books?

The e-book version is on Amazon and all of the usual e-book sellers. The trade paperback can be found on Amazon or Createspace. Links are on my website: http://www.harrietschultz.blogspot.com

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?

Just do it! You won't know if you have it in you to produce a book or even a short story if you never try. Write for yourself and not for a specific audience. If your work is good, readers will (hopefully) find you. And read, read, read since you absorb good writing almost by osmosis.

Behind the Scenes with The Peacock Writers

Conducted by Beth Ann Masarik

LiteraryLunes,

Thank you for having us.

I would like to introduce us as a group first; Gwenna D'Young (that is me, I did some of the formatting), Paula Shene (who first had the idea for the charity book, also editor and formatter), Carolyn Tody( she came up with our name and logo, editor), Carol Wills (created our book video teaser, editor) and Janice Abel (editor, lending support whenever needed).

We are the forerunners in a new group of authors whom have joined together to write short stories and poems for the benefit of children's charities, in what we plan to be a continuing series of short books for children ages 0-12+.

We call ourselves "The Peacock Writers" and are an ever changing and expanding group of authors from around the world. The core group first met on BookRix.com, in the Children's Authors Group, well except for me, I was asked to join the group because of some of my poetry. In our first book, "A Whimsical Holiday for Children," we represented The United States of America and The United Kingdom~ England, jokingly calling ourselves 'Four Yanks and a Brit." The theme of the book being about Christmas, the Holidays and charity.

But as we are giving this interview, our group has expanded to include Canada, and several newer members, while another has gone on a hiatus. As I said, we are an ever evolving group. Some members may write only a poem, or contribute editing; others might write 3-4 items or do the graphics. While others may flow in and out of the group, we plan on releasing books semi-annually for non-profit. All proceeds after the print and publishing costs will go directly to children's charities. By leaving it open, we hope to touch many lives and assist many organizations across the globe.

All our books can be found on Amazon.com, but we have also arranged for them to be distributed to other on-line retailers and bookstores. Our plan for raising funds is twofold; direct sales to readers and then charities or groups purchasing bulk at cost and resell for fund raising events.

We are also gearing up to release our second book in our Charity Series: "The Rain Cloud's Gift". In this book our theme is spring, Rainbows and Renewal, with three short stories at the end to help a child learn about grief but with a magical twist.

Now for a little more about the Authors themselves...

What is your name?

It depends on the genre or tenor of the goal discussed. For my children's stories, I am simply Paula Shene. If I am writing for a children's charity, I am one of The Peacock Writers. If I am writing for adults, my collections are under Paula Louise Shene. I am about to embark on writing YA fantasy/sci/fi and have not yet decided on a name for that genre.

Tell us about yourself.

For years my husband has urged me to write books because my passion for reading was almost as great as my passion for him. I told him I did not want to turn my love into a chore.

Our youngest son in 2008, faced an end to his marriage. His daughter developed many fears from this upheaval and from this trauma, "Mandy The Alpha Dog" was born. My son used his cartoon drawings to add to the humor of the story which actually covers quite serious topics - fears, mistreatment, overeating, obesity, biting, forgiveness, and becoming a winner. This book initially was written to help a little girl overcome her fears, but, as friends and relatives read the story and the cartoons, we were urged to take our love of rescuing animals to the public and a publisher was sought.

Mandy The Alpha Dog, the first installment in The Chronicles of the K-9 Boys and Girls on Locus Street was published and released on June 20, 2009. 10% of our proceeds go to animal rescue leagues. A series of books in this line have been published on line - some free, as yet, to read.

What do you write?

I write both children's stories and adult short stories. I have not yet settled into a genre niche other than all my books, children and adult alike, deal with social issues and/or injustice.

Why do you write it?

Compulsion. Many times there has been a contest theme which triggered a story, usually based on something in my life and I fictionalize.

With The Peacock Writers, I asked if anyone was up to writing a children's Christmas story to go into a collection and the response was overwhelming with the additional want of using the collection for the good of children. Thus the group was formed, but is always in flux - no one is locked into more than committing to one book. However, we find, once we step out, it is a must in our spirits to do it again. Helping and giving is contagious.

Do you have any past or current releases?

Oh.. yes!

Tell us about them.

Mandy The Alpha Dog started the series and was published conventionally. I found that too restrictive, and have stepped out into the realm of the Indie published, with the rest of the stories in that series. The More, The Merrier was the Christmas themed story which appears as a single and in the collection, A Whimsical Holiday for Children: To Benefit Children's Charities. Mason and The Rainbow Bridge will be released as a single before the end of March 2012 as well as appearing in the collection for children's charities, The Rain Cloud's Gift, also to be released by the end of March 2012.

On July 13, 2012, Captain Snooper: The Scourge of The Seven Seas will be published for my grandson's birthday and dedicated to him. Then in the fall, the long awaited, The Midnight Caper, will be published.

I published several collections of adult short stories and am included in an anthology along with seven other authors about social injustice entitled, Sandcastles, in digital form only, at this point. The name of my story which is also in one of my own collections is entitled Sacrifical Lambs.

I write articles for an on line magazine called Angie's Diary http://angiesdiary.com/ and some of my articles written around holidays are now in several editions of Holiday Echos found on Amazon.com.

The 2nd edition is called Holiday Echos: Songs of Love featuring The Ice Maiden. The Ice Maiden is a fictionalized diary of my courtship and if I kept a diary that is the way it would have been written. The collection, Problem or Solution?: featuring Sacrificial Lambs also was published through BookRix.com and while these two collections appear on other sources including Amazon.uk, Amazon.de, B&N and Kobo, they have not yet made the translation onto Amazon.com (US).

Who is publishing them?

I will be publishing any single or collections as an Indie author either through Amazon, BookRix, or CreateSpace. As I said, I found the conventional route too constrictive. Pricing too high by the publisher making the book much higher in price than other books in that genre and the amount of proceeds limited; and then, too, being locked into a seven year contract has burned out the wish to appear as a 'conventionally published' author.

However, as an Indie author, I did learn from conventional avenues. My manuscript must be perfect or as perfect as I can make it. I have found trusted editors who enhance my stories while still leaving them as my own after editing. I proof read until my eyes, figuratively, bleed. And then, one more time. I am positively anal when it comes to spacing, placement, etc.

Where is your favorite place to write?

My computer, but I do write rough outlines while riding in the car. Mason and The Rainbow Bridge was first written and edited in my head during a recent hospital stay - I was in a three hour queue waiting to have an MRI.

What do you listen to when you write?

It depends on the tenor of the story. If it is romantic, I listen to Soft Rock. If it is angry, I listen to political news or news in general or head banging rock. If it is sad, Classic Country. Paranormal, I put on String or Classical sans lyrics. If it is after midnight then just silence is good. During the day, I have a very noisy household with seven dogs, a husband who needs lots of attention, and other noise makers depending on the day of the week, visiting health aids, etc. I go with the flow.

How long have you been writing?

For the public, since 2008. For a church group monthly interview newsletter column, I wrote for almost three years, between 1997 and 2000. I wrote, produced, and directed a commercial spoof for a media class I attended at the college where I was an administrator of several departments, back in the early 80s.

If you could be any mythological creature, what would it be and why?

A Pegasus because I love the awesome beauty and power of the bone, muscle - the sinew structure of horses, and because I have a fear of heights. If I had wings, it would be natural to fly, and that fear would be conquered.

What is your guilty pleasure food?

Hot spicy anything! Every culture has their spice that heats things up. I love them all.

Where can we buy your books?

I am all over the net from Abe's books to Amazon, B&N to Kobo, Apple - put in my name, you'll find me. My children's books have a website called Chronicles of The K-9 Boys and Girls with links to other places where I can be found on the net. The Link to the Chronicles is pshene.webs.com/

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?

I write from the heart and there are people that are readers and understand that type out pouring of words. Then there are others who do not understand that style. That is okay. I do not write for them. My books have humor even in times, or perhaps, because of times of stress. Humor is a valve to let off that steam without necessarily burning the reader but getting them into my mind frame and seeing my point of view.

Here is a link to an article I did on conference call interviewing and questions asked ~

 http://angiesdiary.com/articles/conference-call-interview/

There are readers that will love your work and there will be ones that hate it, some even harshly criticizing it. Do not allow the negative to overcome your drive to write. If your grammar or spelling is a challenge, then get yourself an editor, either live or a program. Examine criticism and if valid, implement and make yourself a better writer.

If writing is your calling, you will not be able to give it up. It is an automatic response - just like breathing.

Paula Shene,

Author

pshene.webs.com/

Thank You for inviting me to share my story with your readers.

What is your name?

My name is Gwen Steel and when I write for adults of any genre I use G.D. Steel. When I write for children and young adults I use the pseudonym of Gwenna D'Young. Both are variations of my legal name.

Tell us about yourself.

I am a divorced mom of two grown children whom live on the other side of the country; I am a Registered Nurse of 18 years (kind of a 'jack of all trades' but my heart is in Pediatrics); A US Navy Veteran; an Esthetician and Reiki Master, and now I can add international author to the list.

I grew up traveling and have been to all the over the United States, except Alaska, and have a bit of the gypsy in my soul. I love to travel and love the ocean. I dream of going on an extended cruise on a tall ship, you know, the ones with the full rigging and sails, not to mention the hottie sailors...

What do you write?

I am fairly new to writing, and I am part of what I see as a growing trend, meaning that I write what I want and like, not being held to one type of genre or style. But my heart lies in Romance and these charity books. I mean, who wouldn't put their all into something as important as helping sick, tired, hurt or hungry children?

Why do you write it?

Maybe I write Romance because I am of the generation where every girl dreams of her 'Prince Charming', and I get to create them, flaws included, while still searching for mine...and now that there is no limit to WHERE the romance takes place I can go totally sci-fi, fantasy,erotic, or just PG...

Do you have any past or current releases?

My first published work was a poem that I entered in a contest about...hmm, 10 years ago. It was about the plight of the aged in our society. I didn't win any money, but it was an honor to be published from over 18,000 world-wide entrants. I again made that honor this year with another poem about a Scottish Highlander called, "The Piper's Lament" and it will be turned into a paranormal romance series. I write simple, rhyming poetry and it is featured in many of my books, Adult and Children's.

As G.D. Steel, I have also written several short stories, poems and my first full length Romance, "Jersey Daze." It was released for the first time about 1½ yrs. ago. Much to my dismay, I became an International Author with its release, however, it was my first "real" book and it had many flaws. It has gone through three reincarnations, with the third and final edition being released in April 2012.

I learned a lot about publishing and the harsh whip of critics with this book. I am still learning, but I have made many friends along the road to enlightenment! I have several short stories out on Amazon.com/.uk/.de, Sony.com, ibookstore.com, Kobo, and several other sites. These stories were written as part of my learning experience, being challenged to write outside of my comfort zone by other authors on BookRix.com. I am sure there are other sites just like BookRix, that budding authors can use. As a matter of fact, I believe it is essential!

Some Titles as G.D. Steel:

The Power of the Heart, The Ax-Man, Winter's Wolf, The Art of the Kiss, and Jersey Daze, and soon to be released, Vhairi's Surrender: The Star Slave Chronicles of Bleeker Galaxy.

As Gwenna D'Young, I have written some poetry, short stories and have collaborated with a group of writers known as 'The Peacock Writers," to create books to benefit children's charities. Our first book is both a paperback and an e-book titled, "A Whimsical Holiday for Children."

Tell us about them.

We are currently in the process of getting another volume together for a Spring release with a rainbow/renewal theme, titled "The Rain Cloud's Gift". It will be available on BookRix.com, Amazon.com /.de.uk, B&N, ibookstore and elsewhere by the end of April 2012. The Peacock Writers are planning to make at least a yearly appearance but may try for bi-annually. All proceeds from these books go directly to charity, none of the authors make a dime from their sales. I may not be Oprah or Shawn Penn, but I can do something to help our world's youth, even if it is a 'penny here, a dollar there.'

Titles by Gwenna D'Young:

"A Whimsical Holiday for Children", "Santa's Secret", "A Trio of Holiday Poems", and "The Rain Cloud's Gift."

My next Romance is almost finished and it is more of the size of an Novella, 30-40,000 words. It is a Futuristic Romance titled, "Vhairi's Surrender" and is the first in a series. I also plan to write a series about some Paranormal Highlanders, with some historical fiction thrown in. They will be called, "The Pipers Lament" and "The Highlander's Battle Cry: The Well of Souls Series"

They have been quietly waiting for me to finish up Vhairi's story, and each book will start with a poem. The first book will be about that 'Piper' I mentioned earlier. I have the book covers already designed and may I say they are HOT! Jimmy Thomas, the 'Fabio' of this generation (actually he is on more covers than Fabio...) will make an appearance on two of my books, "Vhairi's Surrender" and "The Highlander's Battle Cry"

Who is publishing them?

I have met some traditionally published and self-published writers, and for myself, I prefer to be self-published. Now don't get me wrong, if a major publishing house came knocking at my door, I just might take them up on it, but it better be a good offer!

I did a lot of research into publishing: what an author is expected to do and I found out that they have to put out a lot of money! Travel, book tours, promoting, and such. So, why would I go through all that for a measly $5-10,000 advance and give up part of my rights in a contract, when I could retain ALL my rights?

So, I still have to do the same amount of work, but I can do it at MY pace and financial ability. The Internet has really made this possible, along with Amazon. They 'broke' the traditional model for publishing. Similar to 'Humpty-Dumpty', I don't think they will ever be able to put it back together again!

Where is your favorite place to write?

Nowhere, really. Anywhere the mood strikes do it while it is hot and fresh in your mind.

What do you listen to when you write?

Nothing, this way I actually "merge" into the story and become part of it while I write.

How long have you been writing?

Professionally about, hm, 2 years, but I started about 12 years ago. It just came upon me out of the blue, sure took me by surprise! I always got C-D's in school for writing. Un-beknownst to me or may parents, I am dyslexic. Back then, you had to be "dumb" to be classified with a learning disability. Noticed I did not say disorder? Many children go un-diagnosed because of their high IQ and ability to adapt. Mine was to cheat and a near perfect memory(very short term though...ah where is it now that I can use it??? Have you seen it? Sorry, I like to joke around a little).

If you could be any mythological creature, what would it be and why?

The Phoenix! The ability to be reborn from it's ashes, to rise again, to try again and it's a very romantic beast, isn't it? Tragically so....and I have had several near death experiences, so I think it kind of fits.

What is your guilty pleasure food?

Any kind of food! LOL ...I love food, but as the years go by, my tastes change, so I don't really have one old faithful.

Where can we buy your books?

Online right now, although I have been listed in the registries for libraries and book sellers. Amazon, itunes/ibookstore, Sony, Barnes and Noble, BookRix.com, and several other on-line market places like, CreateSpace, Kobo... I can be found with a simple google search and my home site: www.indieauthornetwork.weebly.com

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?

Don't let anyone deter you from doing what you are passionate about, no matter what it is! Now, on the more practical side: read, edit, re edit, find others to help you edit, re read and edit again!

I learned the hard way, that although we may be "Indie Authors, our readers expect the same quality as traditional publishing houses. But don't worry, I have found many people in my journey as an author whom are willing to trade services, or edit or help the newbies.

G.D. Steel

Author

www.indieauthornetwork.weebly.com

http://gdsteelromanceauthor.blogspot.com/

https://www.facebook.com/G.D.SteelRomanceAuthor

What is your name?

My name is Carol Wills

Tell us about yourself.

I'm married with a grown up family of five children, eight grandchildren (yes 8) and one great grandchild. I live with my husband at Chesham amid the beautiful Chilton Hills in the UK. I'm a retired business woman, after having run the accounts and office management side of our family business for many years. I now consider myself a writer, I also love to read (anything from Dickens to the cornflakes packet) in fact, if I don't have something to read I go into anaphylactic shock.

What do you write?

I mostly write short stuff, flash fiction, and children's stories.

Why do you write it?

I think the inspiration to write came from my Aunt Gladys; she inspired

me to read, and would give me great books for birthdays and Christmas. You see, the books she gave me and my sister were the only ones ever to enter our house when I was a kid. I started soaking them up like a sponge, which lead to me making up little stories in my head. I guess that was the start, but it took a lot of years for me to take the next step. My love of flash stems from never having much time to read when my children were growing up so I read very short fiction that got to the point fast. The children's stories are a follow on from verbal stories told to my grandchildren.

Do you have any past or current releases?

Yes I have three books out at the moment and one story in a collection.

Tell us about them.

Ok, "Five Minute Fiction" is a collection of nine very short stories, some funny, some thought provoking and some just downright silly. "A Titus Adventure" is a children's story written for grownups/parent's to read to young ones and older children to read themselves. When Titus wants to visit his friend Jackson who is in hospital, he runs into all sorts of trouble. So, he sets about trying to find someone to help him.

There is also a Titus story in a collection called, "A Whimsical Holiday for Children," to benefit children's charities. The authors are donating all profits from this book, to charity. I really enjoyed collaborating with some wonderful writers on this collection. And of course there's a new Titus story in the pipe line. And last is a very short tongue in cheek guide for parents of stroppy teenagers called "Parents' Rules."

Who is publishing them?

All my books are self-published.

Where is your favorite place to write?

I usually write at my dining table. Yes, I know very unexciting aren't I?

What do you listen to when you write?

Nothing, I get too distracted if I listen to music or anything else while writing. I even tune out my other half, in fact he just said something that made me realize he'd been out, come back in and I didn't know he'd been gone. Not sure that makes any sense, but hey ho onwards and upwards.

How long have you been writing?

Oh, I've been writing since childhood but only about fifteen year seriously.

If you could be any mythological creature, what would it be and why?

That's easy I'd love to be Scheherazade, the storyteller in Arabian Nights. How cool would it be to write 1,001 books that everyone read.

What is your guilty pleasure food?

The Indian dish: Chicken Biryani, yum!

Where can we buy your books?

You can find all my books on Amazon both US and UK.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?

Always carry a notebook; you never know where an idea for a story will come from. In the early days I got caught out many times with nothing to write on and lost the idea before I could write it down. I also keep a notebook by my bed, I can't tell you how often and idea pops into my head just as I'm drifting off to sleep. And finally, write, write, write, it doesn't matter if you think it's rubbish; sooner or later you'll have a good story down, and like all aspects of life if you don't use it, you lose it.

Thank you, and fyi here's a link (my authors page on Amazon) it lists my books, blog, twitter, website, youtube book promos, etc...where people can find me if they so wish:

http://tinyurl.com/8ygnts

Carol Wills

Name and about myself

My name is Janice Abel. I am educator and bring experiences in teaching, counseling, and administration to my fiction writing. Previous writing has been in a specialized field of college student services.

What do you write and past and current releases.

I especially like writing fantasy short stories, though recently I have been spending my writing time completing a romance novel. My fantasy stories include two Christmas stories for youth that have appeared as a newspaper serial and are now available as an e-book on Amazon.com "The Little White Christmas Horse," and "Little Horse Wears Antlers."

I have several e-books available through Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.

Current releases are "Beam Down Scotty", "Time Rides the Tide," and "The Metallic Bird." Forthcoming short stories are "Silver Stars on the Sea" and "The Green Phone."

Currently I am working on a romance novel and it is hot on every word I write!!! I am excited about this new avenue of genre and you will be hearing more about that very soon.

Who is Publishing my work?

Essentially I am. Bookrix.com will be doing some of the releases, but with the opportunities for e-books and good work in paper backs, quite frankly, I am not ready to step to a small press with its many problems. Obviously, if a leader in published was chasing me, I would reconsider. :) I am finding my niche as I would encourage others to do.

Advice to aspiring writers.

Write. Read. Put the pen to the paper. I see any creative endeavor as both a craft and art. The craft is in mastering the tools of the trade- that takes discipline and practice. The art is the creative aspect that takes patience, hanging loose and trying different things, dreaming, and stretching oneself beyond the box in which one lives. The two are very different from one another, so it is important to learn your personal ebbs and flows; that is, the rhythm of blending the two to make your writing an art that flows with energy and interest. A side note- If you ever have writers block you may want to check out my book, "A Desperate Time", on Bookrix.com Free to all.

On marketing- the fast changing culture will open new doors, so go with the flow, and learn not to get hung up on the details of marketing at the expense of writing your masterpiece!!!!

I will finish with a plea. Please buy my e-books or urge at least three of your friends to take a look and buy!!!! How is that for a marketing push!!!!! Search on my Name or Title on Amazon.Com or Barnes & Noble.

Best wishes to all writers where ever you are.

What is your name?

Carolyn Tody ~ Pen names include CactusRose and DreamSculptr.

Tell us about yourself.

I am probably best described as a late bloomer. I like to paint, dance, write, play with clay, travel, and spend quality time with my growing family. During my career I progressed by studying, earning degrees with the blessing and support of the workplace, networking, learning to take risks, studying with Disney University and in various other locale, and raising my family. By doing so I broke the career 'glass ceiling' enough to get my head above the clouds, and felt proud to hear that others were inspired to become nontraditional students and realize their own dreams. My family is grown and I have a little more freedom to consider dreams that were set aside. In turn, I hope to share that feeling with others in a similar position.

What do you write?

I primarily write speculative fiction. It often parallels a nonfiction process about realizing one's dreams that is, in turn, based on the notion of serial reinvention. I have also written docudrama, creative nonfiction, nonfiction, and an illustrated book of firelight poetry.

Why do you write it?

Because I enjoy exercising my imagination and developing stories that deserve an independent life. Writing is one of my passions. I also write to leave legacy for my children and grandchildren.

Do you have any past or current releases?

Quite a few stories and poems have been published in anthologies under either my name, CactusRose, or as part of DreamSculptr offerings. My first novel is drafted and in the refinement process. Several other stories are part of a longer series in progress, and have contributed to smaller works.

Tell us about them.

A few true stories relate incredible or mysterious experiences. For instance, surviving the eye of a tornado. Others were surprising steps back in time ~ some to vintage settings where significant incidents occurred 50-years earlier and reunions with elderly owners before they passed. Another was an unplanned conversation 'beyond the curtain' in an unexpected situation - a work setting with my colleagues. "Music of the Wind" is a docudrama written to benefit quake victims by reenacting the world's second most powerful earthquake the from the perspective of children.

"Falling for Fall" is a nostalgic play on photography. Many poems are romanticism geared to finding love again and feeling good about life. Some works feature my artwork. 'Witherworm Villa' stories were created to raise funds for children's charity.

A lengthy YA series is underway in a Saga featuring Blackberry Patches, the Patchwork Forest, and a sizable cast. I wrote the first mystique mystery in the 'Guardians of Hope' series during NaNoWriMo and it is in the editing stage. And, since the Saga is taking so long to write, I am preparing for publication as a mini series located at the edge of the Patchwork Forest.

Who is publishing them?

Writing at the Ledges (www.writingattheledges.com), L. Fairchild, A. Guarnieri, BookRix, the Peacock Writers, and Amazon. Patchwork Treehouse Press will publish the miniseries.

Where is your favorite place to write?

Facing the living area with scenery outside the windows. I would prefer to add a restless sea with endless water, at a height that lets my imagination soar, and Riviera-like inspiration.

What do you listen to when you write?

Spa music when I listen to anything; a Mediterranean fountain or real ocean waves would be ideal.

How long have you been writing?

Like many students, I began writing in childhood. However, I began composing fiction in the early 90's and picked up the pace a few years ago.

If you could be any mythological creature, what would it be and why?

After a lengthy consultation with my young grandson... a PEGADOR. True, it was a collaboration between a young inventor with a vivid imagination and an author with the heart of a maiden, but this combination of a silver Pegasus, a femme fatale centaur with long flowing hair, and a short-prong unicorn reflects a pure heart with the ability to wing anywhere in the world on land, sea, or in the air, see anything, partake in quests, connect with hearts and heroes in remote locations, all the while defending honor with her quiver, bow, and hidden staff protected by a secret code.

Who knows what could happen?

What is your guilty pleasure food?

Dark chocolate.

Where can we buy your books?

www.writingattheledges, Amazon.com, and BookRix.com in the near future. The Peacock Writers will be in an expanded market soon.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?

There is such a wealth of information online. Nearly any question can be answered quickly and simply by entering the inquiry in a search engine box and reviewing the responses. Writing groups are also immensely helpful and encouraging with useful experience and feedback. If you can't attend one in person there are online groups that are active night and day. And most importantly, believe in yourself. Practice and elicit constructive comments, but always believe that there are others in the world waiting for what you have to offer.

Thank you for the opportunity to interview!

Wacky Writers

Welcome back to another episode of Wacky Writers, the meme where I give you a prompt and you write about it. The maximum word count should be 10,000 words. The minimum word count is 300.

This month's prompt is:

If you could be a character in any fairytale, what would you be and which fairytale would you be in?

You can answer this in any way you'd like. You can write it like an essay, or you can even go so far as to write a short story with you as an actual character in a fairytale. It can even be a made up character! The options are endless!

This prompt was inspired by television show called Once Upon a Time.

**ENOUGH TO KNOW**

**James Fox**

Jerry felt a bit better about his older brother now. Jeff had finally given up trying to reason, threaten, cajole or tease Jerry out of the belief that something crept about his bedroom in the night. The teasing had been the worst; Jeff suddenly flinging the bedroom door open to holler "Boo!" Or waiting until Jerry was asleep to sneak into the bedroom and turn off the nightlight, something Jeff always denied. Instead, tonight Jeff had turned to logic and scientific experimentation to prove that nothing rose up out of the dark to stalk about Jerry's bedroom in the night. Jerry snuggled down in the covers and glanced up at the bedpost above his head. In the nightlights dim glow he could see the twine cord Jeff had tied to the bedpost and stretched across the room to affix to the pull chain of the lamp on the bookshelf. Jerry reached out and gave just enough of a tug to feel the twine grow taut; assuring himself that Jeff had weighted down the lamp base with enough books that it wouldn't topple. The knowledge that he could quickly turn the lamp on with the twine provided Jerry more security than the dim nightlight which was prone to flicker and fade at times. For the first time in weeks, Jerry dropped off to sleep in less than an hour.

The chimes of the hall clock gradually awakened Jerry, but not quickly enough to count the chimes to know how late the hour. Drifting awake, Jerry realized the nightlight was off. His immediate anger at Jeff for turning off the light quickly changed to fear as Jerry sensed something creeping about the room in the darkness. "Jeff?" He whispered, barely audible to his own ears. Jerry, remembering the lamp device Jeff had constructed, sat up and lifted his arm to feel about in the air until his fingertips found the twine. Wrapping the twine about his fingers Jerry gave a quick tug, but the lamp did not flick on. He didn't even hear the soft ratchet of the pull chain. Drawing the line taut, Jerry was about to give a sharper tug when, in sudden horror, he realized that something was pulling back strongly on the twine. Before he could unwrap the twine from his fingers Jerry found his arm stretched out straight toward the lamp. The pull on the twine was steady and rhythmic as if someone - or something - were slowly wrapping the twine into a ball, keeping it stretched taut across the room. Jerry opened his mouth to cry out, but his mouth had grown so dry and his fear so great that only a dry raspy gasp exited his throat.

Fingers, cold and thin, long and bony as his grandmother's, wrapped around his wrist and suddenly jerked his hand hard against the twine. Jerry felt the twine snap and the frayed end fell against his palm as the cold fingers released their grip. A voice, oddly accented with a reptilian rattle of r's and snake like sibilance of s's, as raspy as the gasp that had escaped his own throat, spoke to him from the dark. "Don't s'c'rdeam! Be s'silent, Jer'gy, or your'r life will be r'ruined." Something cold, metallic and smooth was pressed into his palm. By touch, Jerry recognized the die-cast metal model of the stealth bomber from atop his brother's desk. "S'sc'dream," the voice warned, "and when da lights's get flipped on I will be gone'd and your'r br'rudder will believe it iss you dot been cr'reeping about in da dar'rk!" The model was jerked roughly from Jerry's hand and replaced with a smooth piece of bent and flattened wire and what felt like stiff slips of paper. "Sc'dream," the voice rasped, "and your'r fadder'r will dis'scover'r dot you have s'stolen'd his's gold plated money clip r'right off his's dres'ser'r in da dar'rk of night!" The money clip was replaced by the smooth handle and stiff bristles of his mother's hairbrush as the voice continued to rasp out threats, "It will br'reak your'r mudder'r's hear'rt to discover'r you stood r'right by her'r beds'side in da dar'rk wid deeze in your'r hands's!" The brush was joined by the cold steel of the kitchen butcher knife, its point pressing against Jerry's palm. The voice hissed a final warning, "If you sc'dream, Jer'gy, family will come and find ps'sychopath clutching knife in his's bleeding hands's and sur'rounded by his's loot pilfer'red in da dar'rk of night! S'so, you have choice; lie r'right back down, leaf me alone and I put di'ss s'stuff back befor'rd dawn, or s'sc'dream and end up locked away in s'some dis'smal as'sylum for da ins'sane. Go ahead, choos'se." With tears welling in his eyes and hands trembling uncontrollably, Jerry lay back and slowly pulled the covers over his head. With a wheezing chuckle the voice rasped, "Good, I am glad dat we have'd an under'rs'standing."

Jerry heard the entity scuttle across the room and slide the closet door open. Then he heard the jangle of clothes hangers and the thud of his tennis shoes being moved out of the way as the creature moved into the corner. "Oh, a couple more tings's," the voice rasped, "no mor'd nightlight; I getting tir'red of waiting for'r you to fall'd to s'sleep s'so I can turn dot off. And, s'stop asking your'r mudder'r for cat, I taking car'red of da mice around here jus'st fine. Da moths's and da flies's, too. Although, I would like s'spider'r or two as des'ser'rt. OK, you s'stop s'smas'shing dem! When you find s'spider'rs's, put in jar'r under bed s'so dey s'stay fr'res'sh." Jerry heard the creature sigh contentedly as it settled into the closet corner. Then just before sliding the door shut the voice rasped out one last order, "And, Jer'gy, don't pull dot s'stunt wid lamp cor'rd again'd. You r'really don't ever'r, ever'r, want to s'see me; is's enough to know dot I am always's her're."

Imaginary Imitator's

Matthew Wilson

Miss Connor's had eyes of thunder when she called Richard into her office.

"Ah, Miller. There you are. Maybe you can throw some light on why you allow such rot in my school," she thrust his text book toward him like it was cursed with plague. Something to be avoided at all cost. Burnt. Richard felt his Adam's apple catch, tried to swallow but a ball of wet wool seemed to lodge itself behind his tonsils. "You told us to write a fairy story for class, I thought-"

She didn't let him finish nor sit, flapped the well thumbed through red book as if she were trying to fan herself in awful heat, "I know what I said. What I want to know is why you made the fairies bad guys."

Richard blinked, feeling stupid as if she were speaking another language. He'd felt fit to burst when she'd called him name over the intercom. Had she finally found out it had been him who'd ran his keys along her car for giving him a d grade. Who could get excited enough about math's to actually listen? Try.

He'd thought she'd call mom. Demand she pay for a complete re-spray. Maybe send him to juvenile hall with the rest of the animal's. But she wanted to know why - he couldn't say it.

"What?"

"Pardon, not what," she corrected. "Why did you make the fairies baddies?"

Richard shrugged, he was no Shakespeare, had rattled off the first hackney eyed movie rip off he could construct. "To stand out, no one's done it before. No one-"

"For good reason." Ms. Connor's said, making a visible attempt to calm herself.

"Everyone knows fairies are hard worker's, always underappreciated and die in the end." She gave the book a further shake and didn't pause her fury to pick up the displaced paper's carpeting the floor like inked toilet paper. "You know the offence you could cause with this? Making anyone reading this filth believe fairies are really like this."

Richard's tummy hurt, expecting any moment for the conversation to take a nasty slide toward the car. "Fairies aren't real, Ms. I don't think we're going to get sued."

She slammed the book down and the naughty words on the toilet walls proved right. She'd no sense of humor. "I'm well aware fairies don't exist but in this place of learning facts are essential. Always do your homework. If you'd bothered to check the library you'd know fairies don't have five fingers on their left hand, they have six. They glide, not fly and the ones who hide amongst the humans who have cut their wing's off still have their scar's. They don't just magically disappear."

Richard nodded at every point he felt appropriate, trying to appease her but somehow the light did not leave her eyes. In his story, fairies had eyes that burnt like diamonds; he imagined she could see into his core. His whole soul exposed. Yes, he promised he'd not do it again. Would leave writing to real writers.

He recalled the function of breathing when she dismissed him. Don't fail me knees. He tried to keep them locked though his bone's felt replaced with water. If he fell it meant longer in her presence, to melt under those evil eyes.

"Miller."

He stopped with his hand around the door, he could make a run for it. But he was not faster than a phone call. Spitefully, she'd ring mom and get him in trouble.

Grounded for the coming summer holidays.

He turned, fixed a smile. "Yes?" His voice sounded alien to him, somehow diminished.

She held up his book and suggested he deposit it in the nearest bin. He tried not to relax as he walked back the way he came. There'd been no mention of car's, and worse, compensation. He didn't know what had happened here today. Who he was supposed to have offended? This is what happened to old women when their children grew and flew the nest. They became bitter and made life hard for other people.

Richard didn't want to touch that dry, liver spotted skin so held his hand out flat she may easily place it upon like cookie's for Santa. He thought it was a bitten down pencil at first, the thing knocking against the side of his hand. He pulled the book away but Connor's had slowed in her old age, by the time her hand was back at her side he'd caught sight of her mutation. The sixth finger.

She saw him watching and shuffled more paper's to snap his spell. "That will be all, Miller."

"Yes, Ms. Connor." he suddenly wondered if she had scar's on her back. How far someone so fat might fly.

High Lives

B.D. Fischer

Suzette should have trusted her first instinct, which was her first thought, upon passing into the kitchen and taking off her coat. She tried but failed to remember that the coat would no longer brush the ends of her hair when she peeled it from her body. It had always tickled, as though she were being teased, and it was only now, in removing the coat at this moment, that she decided to be pleased to have cut her hair so short. So short it barely covered her ears. It hadn't been this short since she was a girl.

She had the thought (or felt the instinct) upon seeing the bottle of the High Life on the stove next to four strips of beef sizzling in a huge cast-iron skillet. They were nearly uniform in size and color, and Suzette guessed they were grass-fed, and an excellent cut. That would be his style. The sizzling agent had to be olive oil, she figured. The instinct (or thought) was not a good one: the heat, the sizzle, the danger of spillage: a poor climate for a cold beer. And while she stood there and thought the instinct, or felt the thought, he was saying to Oliver:

"And so I'm half panicking. I can't imagine how I've run out of butter. I mean, it's just not conceivable. Butter of all things. Who runs out of butter? It's on my perpetual shopping list."

"Perpetual shopping list?"

"Yeah, my perpetual shopping list. You know. I don't know what you call it. The list of things you always ask yourself if you need. Milk, butter, sugar, eggs, coffee--you've got to buy fresh, you know."

"Do you really consume that much sugar?"

He shrugged.

"I'm talking about the things you don't even bother to put on the list because you know you'll never forget them because you ask yourself every time. While you're at the grocery store."

"I put everything on my list."

"Really? That's strange. I don't. There are a dozen or so things I know I'll never forget. It's by rote by now. I know exactly which aisle and when the thought will come to me. I follow the exact same path every time I go."

"I've run out of butter plenty of times," Suzette offered.

"Where do you go shopping?" Oliver asked him.

"City Market, of course."

Oliver nodded, swallowing from the beer in his hand, and then said:

"And so, despite all that shoring you've still somehow forgotten ..."

"I know. The mind reels."

"What are the others?"

"What are the other what?"

"The other dozen items."

"The other dozen items?"

"That you tick off while you're shopping."

"Oh. Well ... I'm not sure. I mean, I can't just reel them off the top of my head just like that. Butter, sugar, eggs, coffee, beer. There are others, but I have to be in the grocery store. Like I said, such and such aisle such and such, so and so aisle so and so. I think I have to be there."

"I see."

"You know how that is. Physical cues to cognition, they call it. We couldn't live without them. Visual signals in the prefrontal cortex fire neurons that echo through the cerebellum and trigger the memory in the Brampton's area, deep in the hippocampus. Bing bang boom."

"I see."

"I read an article last month that pegged the phenomenon exactly."

"I see."

"It was in The Nation."

"What was?"

"The article I read. About physical cues to cognition."

"The Nation?"

"The Nation."

"They're still publishing The Nation?"

"Of course. It's, like, a historical phenomenon, bro."

He punched Oliver's bicep, which made Suzette shudder. There were, she had noticed while they talked, three open bottles of the High Life, one in Oliver's hand, one on the stove, and one on top of the fridge emptied to a swallow, but still.

"Hi, Suzette," Oliver finally said. In her opinion, she should have been acknowledged by now, although she was more Betsy's friend than Oliver's. Oliver leaned over and gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, the other cold around a High Life. He took her coat. It was cold outside. The bottle looked so cold, frosting at the top. She saw the bottom of the Brown Line rumbling by through the window next to the fridge while he hugged her.

"This is Hadrian. I told you about him."

Hadrian said something she couldn't quite hear, but she shook his proffered hand even though it disgusted her, nothing personal. Doubtless he drew some bitter conclusion from her fingertip handshake, but it was nothing personal. Then she said something she also couldn't quite hear, but she was fairly certain that she'd smiled, in some vast conspiracy. Her lips were too done up that night, she feared; she feared they looked blood-red. She feared they looked blood-red against skin that looked paler than normal because she'd dyed her hair black last weekend, she suddenly feared. Now it was Thursday.

Three open bottles and two men.

Were they men?

"I didn't mean," Suzette said, leaning into Oliver, "to interrupt your story."

The third bottle on the stove did not appear to have been drunk from at all. The sizzling of the steak, to Suzette's ears, had grown extreme. Oliver had disappeared to put away her coat. If it had been her, she would have been half-panicked. Cooking meat on the stove always terrified her. She was quarter-panicked still, even though she had no responsibility. She thought briefly of the relief a ruined dinner. The unresponsibility of it. The other-person-ness of it. Oliver came back. He caught her looking at the skillet and a shadow filtered across his face. He bent down to the level of the steak.

"I was saying," Hadrian was saying, "that I was once in Oliver's situation."

"What situation?"

"This. Cooking. Entertaining. Not quite exactly the same, I mean, there were only two of us. I was entertaining a young woman, you see, on whom I had certain designs. Not meaning anything specific by that, of course. This was some years ago now."

He reached up to the top of the fridge for the nearly empty bottle, and then he continued:

"I was preparing steak, much as our friend Oliver"--he was lifting up each slab in turn, surely checking for the Maillard reaction; she was proud to know that term, and sure that neither of the men did--"is doing now. The steaks really looked quite nicely. Everything was coming along exactly as I'd planned."

He held tight to that nearly empty High Life, leaning slantedly, casually, against the refrigerator, and tried to make eye contact with Suzette, which she noticed and ignored. She was focused on that third full bottle on the stove, dangerously close to Oliver's machinations.

"And so what happened?" Suzette asked. She was so miffed that her nostrils were flaring, she was sure. She couldn't help it. She was past being embarrassed, mostly. She still wore the red scarf of the cold around her neck.

"Everything was coming along fine."

"You said that."

"Yes. She had arrived, and I was cooking, and we were conversing with considerable ease. She was drinking. I was drinking. Only, just after I'd poured her second glass of red wine--we were drinking Pinot, in case you are interested, but not Burgundy--and the meal was coming to its denouement ..."

"Can I have a High Life, please?"

It was a pretty small kitchen. Hadrian finally swallowed the last of his High Life and slid to the side, the anger coming over her in waves. There was a certain humiliation in having to ask. Hadrian tossed the empty bottle in the trash.

"You don't recycle?" Suzette feigned what could as easily have been real appalment. "That's really bad, Oliver."

"What?" He put down the steak. "Of course I recycle."

"I?"

He pointed at the back door. Hadrian sighed, and picked the bottle out of the trash.

"It's too cold to go outside," he said. "Maybe we can just set them on the counter for tonight?"

"We don't have that much counter space, bro."

"It's not like we're going to drink that deeply of the High Life, are we? I mean, we do have to work tomorrow. We have jobs. We have lives."

"What if I didn't?" Suzette said.

"Pardon?"

"What if I didn't have a job? Lots of people are out of work these days. Wouldn't you feel bad for saying that?"

"What if you didn't have a job?"

"Right. You can't assume anything. You never know these days."

"But you do have a job. Oliver told me. He told me you work for Communion."

"Fuck," Suzette said, smiling a real smile and taking a long swallow from her High Life. "I thought it was worth a try."

"These are just about done," Oliver said. "I can keep them warm for a little while, but if Betsy doesn't get here ..."

Hadrian had picked up the full or nearly full bottle from the stove, and Suzette craned to see if there was spatter on the bottle.

"What?"

"What? Oh ... nothing."

She straightened up.

"Well, when is Betsy supposed to get here?"

"At least fifteen minutes ago."

"Text her."

"I texted her."

"You could call her," Hadrian suggested.

"Is Hadrian really your name?"

"What?"

"Is Hadrian really your name, I said."

"Is Hadrian really my name?"

"Yeah. Is Hadrian really your name."

"Hadrian is really my name. It's my middle name."

"What's your first name?"

"John."

"Well, why do you go by Hadrian, then? It's not like your name is ... Jawarhalal."

"Jawarhalal?"

"I couldn't think of any ... funny names."

"Indian names are funny to you?"

"That is not the point and you know it! The point is, I was asking, why don't you just go by John?"

"Oh. Right. Well, because my father's name is John. You know, you don't want two Johns roaming around the house."

"Were you the oldest?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because it's always seemed queer to me, how some people give their name to a child other than the oldest."

"Queer?"

"Because what does that make the oldest child think? That he wasn't good enough for your name?"

She took a long swallow of the High Life.

"No, I was the oldest. I have two sisters. They had always planned to name me John but call me Hadrian. But of course who can tell how things will really turn out. I might have been called Honey Baby or Johnny Boy or 'Drian. But then something happened that sealed the plan. It was really pretty tragic. I'm not sure that I want to talk about it."

Oliver continued to investigate the steaks. Suzette started to feel bad.

"What happened," Hadrian continued, startling her, "is that my father died. On the very eve of my birth. An inveterate old motorcycle rider, my father was. And he was out on a dark and stormy night the night before I was born, a month prematurely, labor brought on by the trauma of his accident. His injuries proved fatal. After that they had no choice but to call me Hadrian. There could be only one John."

He sipped from his High Life, while Suzette and Oliver pretended to look elsewhere, and drank from theirs.

"No, not really," he finally said. "My father's still alive. I was just kidding."

Suzette spit her beer back into the bottle and gaped. His smile spanned a significant distance; her reflexive disbelieving snort did the same.

Oliver called Betsy, and when she didn't answer he dumped in the sliced mushrooms and onions and when she still hadn't called or answered his text he knifed in a quarter-stick of butter for the pan sauce and finally insisted that they eat while everything was hot and ready. Several more High Lifes had been consumed.

"I'm troubled by this, Oliver. I really am."

Suzette was starting to feel, as she often did, as though she were being set up, somehow manipulated, in a way that might be bad or good but over which in either case she would have no obvious control. Oliver shrugged.

"She knew what time dinner was. What are we supposed to do, rearrange our lives to suit her?"

So Hadrian set a fresh new beer beside three of the four plates. Suzette lit candles. Oliver arranged the steaks on a serving tray.

"I just wonder where she could be," Suzette said as they were sitting down. Oliver shrugged, and Suzette hated him for the way his baggy sweater fell off his shoulders.

They cut into their steaks. They looked impressive, Suzette had to admit. They had been cooked to the requisite external crust, and the red temperature at the center seemed exactly right. But in the mouth they tasted somehow more like an idea of steak, almost like military steak. Maybe not quite as bad as that sounds, but not good. Something was wrong. Suzette felt sure of it.

Finally, she asked:

"So why were you half panicking?"

Everyone was chewing. Oliver had closed his eyes in a simulacrum of pleasure. Hadrian fussed with his plate, arranging strict demilitarized zones between the steak and the scalloped potatoes and the green beans. Suzette swallowed. It was because of the electric stove, she thought. It was impossible to cook a decent cut of meat on an electric stove. She felt so bad for Oliver.

"Who are you talking to?" Oliver finally said.

Suzette took another bite of the dreadful steak and indicated Hadrian with her shoulder.

"Him," she said through her chewing. "Hadrian."

Still chewing, Hadrian glanced startled around the room, as though looking for a television camera.

"You said you were half-panicked," she said.

"Half-panicked?"

"When you forgot the butter, you said."

"The butter!" Hadrian swallowed, and drained from the High Life. He took several heavy breaths, staring at the dancing flame in front of Suzette. "The butter," he said again.

"Right," Suzette said. "What you forgot."

"What I forgot. That's right. It's a funny story really."

Oliver remained lost to the world.

"We were coming to the end of the meal before I realized. The end of the cooking, I mean. The beginning of the meal, I guess. The steaks were almost done; I had diced an onion and a package of mushrooms and two cloves of garlic before she arrived; I took the cellophane-covered bowl out of the refrigerator. Mise en place. And that's when I realized."

"No butter."

"No butter for the pan sauce. And a pan sauce without butter ... why, it's no pan sauce at all. It's barely even gravy. It's just ... stock."

"Stock."

"That's right. It's just ... grease. And this girl was ... beautiful. Long blonde hair ... everything. I could no sooner serve her such greasy steak than I could ... I don't even know!"

They chewed in silence for a while. Suddenly, Oliver said:

"So what did you do?"

"What did I do? I did the only thing that I could do. I thought fast. I asked her to run out to my car to make sure that it was locked. I told her that I had a sudden terrible fear that I'd left it unlocked and I gave her my keys. I told her that I knew it was weird and that I would do it myself but I had to attend to the steaks and then the pan sauce. I told her that time was of the essence and that this was a time when we had to come together. And so I asked her to do me the favor. I told her I trusted her. I hadn't yet kissed her. I gave her my big brown eyes. The sweet ones. Like a puppy dog."

"You literally told her that time was of the essence?"

"I did."

"And that this was a time when people had to come together?"

"And?"

"And these were your words."

"In so many. Basically. Yes."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what happened?" Suzette felt like stabbing him with her fork.

"What happened? The second the door closed behind her I opened up the freezer and took out the coffee can everyone keeps in there. For the drippings. And I did the only thing a man could do in that situation: I chiseled out a tablespoon of accumulated lard and fat and spooned it into the frying pan. It was the only thing I could think under such tremulous circumstances. By the time she got back and I thanked her there was no way that she could tell. It was a brilliant solution, I adjudged it then, and adjudge it still. It's the reason it says 'problem-solving' on my resume. Under skills."

"I don't think you've used 'tremulous' correctly," Oliver said.

"Wait a second," Suzette said. "You used your coffee-can grease to substitute for the butter in a pan sauce you were serving to a girl your were trying to make it with?"

"Make it?" Oliver asked. Even Suzette had to admit that the term made her uncomfortable.

"I had no choice," Hadrian said. "It was my only option. Everything was all lined up. I couldn't let the absence of butter stand in my way at that point. It was actually an ingenious solution. No one could tell the difference."

"No one? It was just her!"

"You're outraged on her behalf? Pshaw!"

Hadrian literally said "pshaw."

"But that grease ... it could have come from anywhere."

"And probably did."

"Bacon, chicken wings, fried eggs, ground hamburger, melted butter and grilled cheese ... and how long had that can been in there anyway?"

"Years, most likely. How long does it take to fill a coffee can?" Suzette didn't catch whether it was Oliver or Hadrian who said that. She had turned to her steak to compose herself.

"Years. God only knows what kind of disease you were subjecting her to."

Hadrian waved that away with his hand.

"No one got hurt. No one got sick. No one was any wiser. Plus I ate it, myself, too, don't forget."

"I don't forget." Suzette was wriggling with rage. She felt like shedding her clothes and then her skin, although not in any kind of sexual way, of course. "But that was unfair of you. Really unfair."

She turned back to her steak again. So did Hadrian. So did Oliver.

"And another thing." Suzette's silverware against her plate rang out in the silence. "Not only the disease, it's also disgusting. Just plain disgusting."

"Well, like I said," Hadrian said, "it doesn't matter. Nothing came of it."

"Nothing came of it?" she demanded. She blew a strand of hair from her face. "What is it like with you?"

"Suzette, what? Suzette ..."

"Is it like"--she swallowed--"we don't even exist to you?"

"..."

She turned back to her plate.

"Just stop it. I really ... I don't want to talk about this any more."

Later, after the meal, they sat three across the couch, leaned in around a bong on the coffee table. Suzette had pretended to be surprised when Oliver moved wordlessly for them to smoke weed. And yet she had been that whole time expectant. Oliver produced a grinder; Hadrian watched him click it through its ratcheting circle; Suzette watched Hadrian. She took a practice blow, to test the bubbling of the bong, and then replaced it. She clasped her hands in her lap.

"I'm really worried about Betsy," she said finally. "This isn't like her."

"It isn't like her at all," Oliver said, still twisting the weed in the grinder. "But I don't get into her business."

"Her business?"

Oliver shrugged. He had finished, apparently, and let the grinder fall to the glass coffee table so loudly Suzette was afraid it had cracked. A flaming motorcycle blazed off the top of the grinder.

"I'm not her keeper."

"She's your girlfriend, Oliver."

He shrugged again, in a manner that suggested to Suzette he could use a good swift kick in the crotch.

"I can't be responsible for her."

"You can't be responsible for her?"

"That's not what love is."

"Love ... Hadrian ..."

He put down the bong.

"Yes?"

"Tell him ... you've got to agree with me"--she was nearly hyperventilating--"his girlfriend ... Betsy ... shouldn't he be more concerned?"

Hadrian, who was in the middle (and Suzette would later wonder if he had so maneuvered with intention, but when she went to replay the migration to the couch in her head the scene understandably lacked specifics), picked back up the bong and shifted, just a bit, in his seat.

"Well," he finally said, "it's a strange business all around, that's for sure. I don't even know Betsy that well."

They had started in, the three of them, on the third six-pack of the High Life.

"Thank you," Suzette said. "See, Oliver?"

"Let me pack that," Oliver said.

Hadrian handed over the bong.

"It's not as though there's anything I could do. I've called. I've texted. What more do you want?"

"You could ... I don't know. I just want you to care."

"I care. Hell, I wish she were here right now. You know I love her. But what do you want me to do, call the police?"

Oliver passed the bong to Hadrian, who passed it to Suzette, saying,

"Ladies first."

Suzette accepted it as though being handed a baby, or Ming vase, or a thing delicately balanced, perhaps by the imperceptible forces of electromagnetism. She stared at it for a moment.

"Will you light this for me?"

Hadrian picked up the lighter from the coffee table; she brought the bong to her mouth; he brought the lighter to the bowl; and she inhaled, creating bubbles of a deep satisfaction. It was a long tall bong, utilitarian, and by the time the smoke reached her it had cooled to a delightful warmth that Suzette privately likened to a mother's cookies just from the oven.

She pushed the lighter away, touching him; she lowered the bong between her knees; seconds later she exhaled a great cloud, with billowing pride. It was the same every time.

"Nice," Hadrian said.

"Thank you for lighting it for me."

She passed the bong to Hadrian and it made its rounds, more than once, and was re-packed, more than twice. Suzette began to feel good in a way that was both familiar and unfamiliar. She leaned back, raising her arms over her head.

"In the anthropology of women," Hadrian was saying, "tragedy is a well-populated form."

Oliver snort-laughed. Suzette had no idea what he was talking about.

"Wait ... are you talking about Betsy?" Suzette asked.

"Not exactly. Not specifically."

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Oliver said. "He doesn't know what he's not talking about."

"I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying that, in a situation like this, people usually say that there's no reason to think that anything bad has happened. My point is just that there's no reason to think something hasn't. 50-50. Either the one or the other. Could go either way. Flip a coin. A tragedy could be happening right now, at this exact moment, as we draw in our breaths unknowing. Or it could be later this week. Or it may hold off for years. My point is that you can't say, at each moment it's one outcome or the other, 50-50, and the only thing you can say is that you don't know when it will come, but come it will. That is for certain."

"Come it will," Oliver cracked.

"See?" Suzette said, leaning forward perhaps a bit more dramatically than she had intended. "This is what I was saying, Oliver."

"What were you saying, baby doll?"

"Baby doll? Is that what you just called me?"

"Just a term of endearment. Relax."

If it weren't for Betsy--who at that exact moment might be lying in a ditch (although this particular tragedy Suzette had forestalled, she was sure, by the instant of her imagination) or raped in an alley (this one seemed more likely) or under the knives of surgeons after a multi-car accident (nothing you could do about that one)--she might have said something really regrettable. Instead she looked at Hadrian.

"Not cool, bro," he said.

"Whatever."

Then, nothing happened for a while: Suzette leaned back again, deflated; Hadrian looked at his hands; Oliver slumped as if asleep. No one seemed to be having any thoughts, none that anyone could detect. It was hard even to tell whether the silence was unpleasant, until finally it was broken by a buzz. The buzz stopped, then started again. And then stopped.

"What is that?" Suzette asked, spooked, feeling very high.

"I think ..." Hadrian said as it began again, "I think ... it's Oliver's phone."

"Oliver?"

Oliver hadn't moved. He might have been unconscious, although everyone knew he wasn't. Hadrian reached across the few short inches between them and set the back of his hand against Oliver's thigh. As though his palm would be homosexual. The buzz began again, and then stopped. He nodded to Suzette.

"Oliver? Aren't you going to answer it?"

"It doesn't look like it," Oliver finally said, eyes closed, still not moving.

"But ... it could be Betsy."

The phone buzzed one last time and then fell silent.

"Could be would be should we ..."

"Aren't you at least going to look to see if it was her?"

"It doesn't look like it."

"Oliver ..."

"Who gives a fuck?" he roared, finally coming to life. "I'm stoned. I'm not her keeper. You know what I mean?"

Roused, he fired up the bong one last time, pulling so hard that he emptied the bowl of its contents, pulling it through to the sullied water beneath. He unloosed the carb, producing a thin whistle. Suzette stood up.

"Why, you're just ... you're nothing but a dick!"

So near to tears that they may as well have been coming, she stood up and shook her head, as though to clear it, which was impossible. She took one hard look at Oliver and then at Hadrian, but it was a different hardness. Then she ran from the apartment. She didn't even bother with her coat, didn't even bother to slam the door, and through her fleeing she heard Hadrian behind her say, "Nice going, bro," and then rise up after her.

It had been cold, earlier, but now, unbeknownst, it had started to snow, not softly, but with flakes so small they were nearly crystals. Despite all the dark hair on her arm (which she detested), Suzette was cold, immediately; the air she breathed in was cold down to her lungs and into her blood. The tears froze in her face before they had much chance to fall. Hadrian caught up with her.

"Hey," he said. "Hi."

In the awkward shivering night he pulled off his hooded sweatshirt.

"Hold still," he said, which she did, sniffling, already trembling. He brought the hoodie down over her head and shoulders. He kept his hands on her body and brought them together behind her back, drawing her to him.

"There, there," he said, "it's okay."

She suffered it. The snow fell mostly on him. It was of course much less cold together.

"See?" he said, and stuck out his tongue, bracing for the stinging of the snow. But the flakes only melted. She pulled away, but gently, and stuck out her tongue, too. A thin tendon of laughter brought on a hiccup.

"You can't feel it," she said.

"I know," he said.

"You can't feel it at all."

"Isn't it nice?"

She laughed, and spread her arms wide like an airplane, and took off careening to the side of Oliver's--and Betsy's?--building. He followed her again, catching her against the wall of the parking garage next door. He was cold, but didn't show it. Her back against the brick, he closed the distance between them with a single step and braced himself against the wall, bracketing her. They remained that way for a long pregnant moment. It seemed like everything could go either way. Not moving, not touching, the cold seemed now intensified, they would agree in their recollections, over bourbon in bars, joints shared in alleys, thin lines of coke off shabby mirrors. They disagreed in the story over whether that rumble was the El overhead or just the beating of their hearts. Then, with thoughts of warmth, he lowered himself to her.

Later, they would end up married for a few years. Thankfully, they never had children. She didn't know it, because they never tried, but she was suffering during those years from a clinical instability of the insides that would have prevented healthy conception. Too much beer and bong water admixed to a native anxiety stopping up her tubes. But years after that, in the comparative calm of a hard-won age, with a new husband, whom she would also divorce, she had no problem getting pregnant at all. She was certain at the time that this would make her happy. It made her something, that was for sure, but probably nothing more than a mother.

The Midnight Heir

Erin Danzer

The Ostara Revel was already in full swing with Niall Cionaoith arrived. He surveyed the happy, dancing denizens of the Sun Court with mild disdain. Everywhere he turned, they laughed and pranced around, celebrating the return of Spring. Did they not realize today was not a day of renewal and happiness, but rather a day of goodbye?

The loss he would endure today lay heavy on his shoulders as he made his way towards the wooden dais at the opposite end of the grassy knoll that served as a court yard. Dancers parted, some bowing their heads, as he passed. His hand automatically rest on the golden hilt of the sword at his hip. His white dragon-hide armor gleamed in the sunlight, much like the golden curls atop his head. The dais came into view and he paused, a breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on his mother. What was she doing here? She wasn't well enough to be here today. Alarm shot through him as he closed the distance to her side. His older brother, his fair hair glinting in the sun, stepped in front of him and put a hand on Niall's chest. A golden key gleamed on a red ribbon around Connor's neck, a sun engraved on its handle.

"She asked to be here," Connor told him. Niall glared into his brother's light blue eyes.

"She shouldn't be," he argued. "She's too weak."

"Being here makes her stronger. Just look at her, Niall; you'll see for yourself."

Niall looked passed his brother, at the mother they were losing. The flowers that bloomed within her golden tresses looked more alive than they had in years, vibrant shades of fuchsia, white and teal, their green leaves wrapping around her head in a verdant crown. The Sun Queen looked more alive than she had since they'd first learned of her illness. Even so, a tightness settled at the corners of her eyes when she caught sight of Niall with his brother. She reached out a delicate, pale hand, beckoning him to her side. Niall stepped around his brother and went to her, kneeling before her bark and vine throne. Flowers bloomed all around her, making her look like the Goddess of Spring she had once been. Now, she would be nothing.

"Niall, my love," she whispered, her voice as musical as the morning birds that greeted him every day. Just the sound of it, and her hand on his cheek, made it hard for him to breathe.

"Mother," he replied brokenly. He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

A soft smile graced her lips even as she arched an eyebrow at him. "Did you think I would spend my last day alone?"

The pain of an arrow pierced his chest. "No, of course not. I mean no disrespect."

"Then dance with me and all is forgiven."

Niall rose and took his mother's hand in his. The bark and vine throne next to her was empty, his father somewhere in the crowd. Anger replaced some of his grief at the thought of his father's absence. They turned to the crowd and saw Cernunnos, the Sun King, dancing and groping playfully with Sorcha del Sol, a noblewoman of their Court. Sorcha's flaming hair fell past her waist, flying around her lithe, small frame as the couple danced and laughed. Cernunnos looked only at his current lover, the antler crown firmly planted on his long, straight chestnut locks. Bile rose in the back of Niall's throat and he ignored the calming energy his mother tried to soothe him with.

"She will be his queen. He has already chosen her," his mother admitted quietly. Betrayal and shock washed over him as Niall's head snapped towards her.

"You're not even gone yet," he declared, his skin glowing with his anger. His mother continued to regard him serenely.

"I will be. Your father will need a strong woman by his side, one who will accept his many discrepancies and be a firm ruler. Your father will not change. Sorcha knows that. She will be good for him."

"How can you say that? He should be dancing with you—not his whore!"

Revellers closest to them looked over at Niall's raised voice. They quickly looked away at the rage they saw there. Niall's body glowed as brightly as the sun above them, anger churning wildly within him. He felt he would explode if he didn't leave now.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he apologized quietly and quickly strode away from her, clearing a path through the crowd to the opposite side of the court yard where he'd come in. The tall oak trees surrounding the yard beckoned him, their ancient magic seeping into his angered soul. He stalked a few feet into the forest before collapsing against one of the trees, allowing its pure energy to take away his rage. Tears glistened on his cheeks as he watched his mother return to her seat. His father paid her no attention, acting as if she was already gone. Niall let the tears fall, soothing strength filling him, washing away the anger and sadness within. He'd known tonight was going to be hard.

After what could have been a few minutes or a few hours, Niall thanked the trees for their kindness and walked back to the party. His father had left Sorcha to dance with his mother now while Connor looked on from his throne next to their father's. The only one missing was their youngest brother.

"Brother." Ciaran's voice sounded just behind his left shoulder. Niall spun around and gasped at what he saw. His brother's white-blond locks were streaked with silver and dark grey, already turning the color of his new Court. Ciaran's bright blue eyes pleaded with Niall not to make a scene, something Niall tried to ignore but could not. This was their last night together; they should not spend it fighting.

"Ciaran," Niall greeted him and pulled him close for a tight one-armed hug. Ciaran thumped his back, his relief washing over both of them before he stepped back. Niall's eyes narrowed. Feelings would not be tolerated where he was going. Worry eclipsed all other emotions within Niall and he opened his mouth to ask if his brother was sure when the reason for his brother's betrayal stepped up to them. Valeriana Primrose, the Moon Princess and only child to the Moon Queen Arianrhod, wrapped her thin, pale arms around Ciaran as she regarded Niall coolly from his side. Her pale white-blonde hair gleamed brightly in the sun and her violet eyes shone with love as she gazed at Ciaran. They'd been in love for decades. It was only her mother's absurd decree that forced Cairan to leave his family.

"How can you make him do this to us? Isn't losing our mother bad enough?" Niall spat at the Moon Princess. A silver crescent moon key gleamed on a silver ribbon around her neck. She frowned at Niall as she straightened by Ciaran's side.

"I am not making your brother do anything; this is his choice. It's the only way we can be together," she argued, tossing her sparkling mane over one shoulder. Lightning crackled in her violet eyes, her anger getting away from her. Overhead, dark clouds began to creep in. Ciaran glanced at the sky before wrapping his arm around his beloved's waist and steering her away from his brother. The last thing any of them needed was to ruin tonight. A few feet away, Ciaran turned back to his brother.

"I have made my decision. You need to accept that," he declared and disappeared with Valeriana into the crowd.

Niall's hands clenched into fists as he watched them go. Ever since Arianrhod had made the declaration that her daughter would only marry someone royal, Ciaran and Valeriana had been trying to find a solution that would keep them together. Because Connor was the Sun Court's keyholder, he was considered the only prince among them. Niall was the Court's warrior champion, gaining him status and favor among all. Ciaran was only the third brother, a decent fighter and healer who was in love with the Moon Princess. Logically, Niall knew his brother's decision was their only choice. He just wished his breaking heart could understand.

A chill crept through the air, touching Niall's nose with the hint of frost and night-blooming jasmine. He turned towards the southern entrance to the courtyard and was not surprised to find Morrighan standing just outside the revel. The Midnight Queen had come to collect her new heir. Their eyes met, onyx against turquoise, and Niall's hand went to his sword. The Midnight Court was his sworn enemy and even though he knew this agreement had been signed and sealed by both monarchs, having the Midnight Queen within his realm made him want to kill. The fact that she was here to take his brother only intensified that feeling.

He started towards her as Morrighan caught sight of his mother on the throne and headed there, her raven feathered cape flowing behind her. Her pale skin looked almost iridescent in the bright sunlight. A black crown of thorns rested lightly on her black hair that fell like an ink spill down her back, mixing with the cape. The revelers stopped and quieted as the Midnight Queen and Sun Court champion wove through them towards their queen's throne.

"Cordelia, how are you, love?" Morrighan greeted his mother, bending to kiss both cheeks. The Sun Queen smiled warmly, holding Morrighan's hands in her own.

"Morrighan, so good to see you again," Cordelia replied. Niall stopped at the bottom of the dais, staring up at the women who acted like old friends. They were anything but. In the past, they had fought fiercely against each other, night against day. Now, they had a common ground to stand on. Bile rose once again in Niall's throat as Ciaran stepped up next to him.

"You look lovely, dear; no one would ever know you're dying," Morrighan continued. Niall glared at the woman's back, his hands clenched in fists at his side. His mother gave a weak laugh.

"Death is only a new beginning," she declared, "especially on the day of renewal and rebirth. My return is guaranteed."

"Yes, yes, there is that." Morrighan frowned as she turned to scan the crowd. A grin split her face when she found Ciaran standing so close. "And here's the man I came for. Are you sure you want to do this, boy? Betray your family, your kingdom, all for the love of some girl?"

The muscles worked in Ciaran's jaw as he tried not to attack his future queen. "It is not betrayal if it is done freely and consensually," he replied tightly. Morrighan's eyes lit up at the tone of his voice.

"Oh yes, you'll be a lovely addition to my growing court," she murmured and swept down the steps of the dais to take his arm. "Say goodbye, boy," she instructed. "We have no time to waste in our return. The nightmares get restless if I'm gone too long."

Niall noticed his brother's shudder at the thought of the vile creatures of the Midnight Court: boggarts, banshees, goblins, red caps, spriggans, and trows. The Host. Unease snaked through Niall but he kept his shudder to himself. To show weakness to the Midnight Queen meant certain death in her Court. He wished his brother had more composure, hadn't already shown weakness in the form of love. His reason for leaving the Sun Court could be the one that led to his demise. Niall shook his head and averted his gaze as Ciaran turned towards him.

"Niall," Ciaran began quietly. A sniffle from atop the dais brought both their attention to their mother, who sat on her throne with tears on her cheeks. Ciaran left Niall to go to her, wrapping his arms around her and murmuring too quietly to be heard. Morrighan huffed and shifted from one foot to another, upset about having to wait. Niall's eyes never left his mother, watching brightly colored petals fall around her as she hugged her youngest son.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely. Ciaran pulled back, his face twisted in confusion and then horrified understanding as his mother continued. "If I'd had you first, you wouldn't need to go to the Midnight Court to be with the woman you love. You would stay with me instead of risking losing yourself for love."

"Mother, no. It is not you who has to feel poorly about this situation; you have done nothing wrong. You had no control over when you bore us, nor do you have control over what I will do to keep my love."

"I'm just so afraid of losing you forever." His mother's voice broke and she covered her face as sobs burst from her body, shaking her frail frame.

"You will never lose me." Fierce determination shone brightly in his blue eyes. The streaks of silver in his hair crackled with magic as he looked from his mother to his brother. Niall nodded solemnly, knowing his brother's oath was for him as well. He only wished he could believe it. He'd heard countless horror stories of the things Morrighan did to those of the Sun Court in her territory; what was to say she would treat him differently because he willingly went to her? Even as the heir, there was no telling how horribly Morrighan would treat him while grooming him to take her macabre throne.

Cordelia plucked a teal flower from her hair and pressed it into Ciaran's hand before rising and leaving the dais, tears still streaming down her cheeks though the shaking sobs had subsided. Niall watched her go, stopping just inside the protective cover of the ancient oaks. She looked small and shriveled among their majesty.

Ciaran put the flower in his pocket before turning to his brother and beloved. Niall regarded him somberly, knowing there was nothing more to say.

"Merry Part, brother," Niall told him and turned away. He passed through the crowd quietly, ignoring all around him as he walked towards their mother. The crowd parted quietly, most bowing their heads or averting their gaze.

He reached his mother and stopped beside her, an arm snaking around her shoulders. She leaned into him, her breath coming in short, hard gasps. Her arms and legs shook with the effort to keep standing but Niall refused to let her go. He'd just lost his brother; he wasn't ready to lose his mother, too. Tears clouded his vision as he looked down at her.

"You have to let me go," she whispered, her voice shaking. He shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I can't," he replied. She struggled to move and finally stood facing him, gazing up into his handsome face. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek.

"You must," she told him. Petals fell faster from her hair, littering the forest floor around them. Niall ignored what they meant.

"I will return to you. Today is about renewal and rebirth; to die on this day means to be reborn. I will find you again," she promised, her voice fading with every word to the point that Niall had to lean into her to hear her final declaration.

"I love you," she breathed and her muscles seized, her body arching towards him as her final breath left on a whisper. Niall laid her on the forest floor as the petals and vines fell from her hair. Her body wilted, shriveling in on itself. All too soon, she was gone, replaced only by dying flower petals and brown vines. Niall knelt next to his mother's remains and lifted his head, looking towards the party to see if anyone knew of his mother's passing. Only one person stood on the edge of the forest watching him. Valeriana Primrose. Anger like nothing he'd ever felt before rose within him, blinding him in red. She was the reason this happened. She might as well have killed his mother the moment she took away his brother. He would never forgive her for what she'd done.

"You took everything from me," he said to her, knowing she heard despite the distance between them. She gasped, slowly shaking her head as her hand rose to cover her mouth.

His sword flew true through the trees, leaving his side without a thought about the action. Valeriana lunged to the side a moment before the blade sliced through where she'd just been standing.

"I took nothing from you that was not already lost," she replied, a bolt of lightning snaking down from the sky near where he stood. He jumped to the side, the white-hot electricity singeing the side of his face as he rolled to his feet. Fire erupted around both of them, a wall of flames shooting up from the ground. Matching flames danced in Niall's eyes as he gathered some of the fire towards him, intent on using it on Valeriana. Betrayal and hatred plagued his mind, grief over the loss he'd endured today suffocating his every thought. Nothing would ever be the same.

As quickly as the flames appeared, they disappeared. Niall and Valeriana stumbled and fell as the ground shook beneath them, the large trees around them teetering dangerously as their roots were redirected. Hot waves of magic fell over both of them, pinning them to the ground as massive tree roots shot up to hold them in place. Niall immediately stopped fighting, the anger within him dissipating as the oak's soothing nature seeped into his veins.

"This is not a time for battle." Cernunnos's voice boomed in the sudden quiet of the forest. "We are all hurting due to our loss today and must grieve. Violence is never the way."

Niall dropped his gaze to the ground surrounding him, ashamed for his outrage. Ciaran had done what he thought was his only option, following his heart into the epitome of darkness to be with the woman he loved. His mother... Cordelia had been dying long before Ciaran's decision was made. She had chosen to die today with the promise of rebirth.

Cernunnos knelt next to his son's head, extending his hand to land on Niall's shoulder. "I know you're hurting and losing your mother is not easy for either of us," Cernunnos began quietly. "Come, let us celebrate her life and wish for a speedy rebirth so she may bring joy to us once more."

The root released Niall's waist, slipping back into the ground. Niall dusted himself off as he unsteadily got to his feet. Valeriana also stood, brushing dirt and bark from the front of her dress. Cernunnos reached for both their hands, bowing his head in a silent prayer.

"What's done shall not be undone," Cernunnos declared as he lifted his head, his dark brown eyes hard as they stared at his son. "I don't expect an apology, but I will not tolerate any more antics."

"Yes, Father," Niall murmured and turned away, wrenching his hand from the man's grasp. With a disdainful glare in Valeriana's direction, he stalked from the forest. For as long as he lived, he would never forgive Valeriana for her role in today's happenings.

Poetry Palooza

My Hero

By Terra Kelly

My hero

how I looked up to you

admired you

tried so hard for you

but you looked right through me

never saw the good

only the mistakes that anyone could make

I was never perfect

only a child

but I tried so hard

you always demanded better

pushing and pushing

I thought that meant you loved me

wanted better for me

But it was just a point of pride

You never saw me

Just the achievements

Something to brag about

I tried so hard

I just wanted you to see me

Even now after so many years I miss the hero

The father I adored

But you turned into a stranger

And I am tired of trying so hard

I am me

And that's all I can be

That should be enough

It finally is for me

The Quotidian Man

By Jim Hauck

I dance with you all night in my dreams.

A never ending sweet melody it seems.

Till the lead pipe morning falls,

And reality once again calls.

The days just bleed into one another,

These crude awakenings me used to bother,

Time was I could not stand it,

I see now that time is the bandit,

Goes by so damned fast,

Trying to hold the memories past,

They're getting all the more hazier,

The old boy is going crazier,

But when i see the world through your eyes,

You show me there are just no lies,

In the soul of one who cries,

Just the pure trembling when we realize,

life is for living,

Thank you for forgiving,

The fool who just now has started,

To see that when he is departed,

The world will keep turning,

The oceans will go on churning,

This quotidian man's legacy shall keep burning,

Though his swan song has been sung,

His hat for the last time hung,

his unrequited dream goes on.

Nightmare

By Jamie Danzer

Trapped in a realm

Only I seem to be in

I feel so abandoned

There's no one in sight

Every turn I make

Feels like I'm crashing

Into a brick wall

Trying to find the light

I've nowhere else to go

Don't know what else to do

Want to wake up from

This nightmare, this fright

I'm all out of options

Cannot see in darkness

Will no one shed some light

To this dark and dreary night

Outlets

By Denny E. Marshall

Take the simple pleasures

In the simple things in life

The grass is always greener

On the other side

We are not earthworms

Let us get out in the night

You do not need that blanket

You have the whole sky

Dreamcatcher Interview: Kristal McKerrington

Conducted by Tony Angelo

Tell me a little bit about your life?

Gosh, well I suppose you could say I'm a normal Scottish woman. I drink tea, write my books. I suppose what makes me stand out, is that a lot of my work comes to me when I'm in the bath with hundreds of candles around me.

I am a huge fan of Wrestling. I have some serious soft spots for the men that go out there and risk their lives to entertain us.

I'm 23 years old and have eight books on sale in major retailers of Ebooks. Including Amazon. I'm a bestseller in Amazons Reference and Collection. I even got into the top 200,000 on Amazon's paid best sellers list in the UK. I never thought I would get there.

I'm a full time writer of Wrestling Romance, Young Adult Romance, Erotica, Hip Hop, Paranormal and some alternative books.

When did you start to write?

I started to write when I was a child, I actually started writing a story one night cause my Auntie was coming to visit me in the hospital. I didn't have anything for her. I wanted her to come back and visit me again. I wrote her a story and it was the first time I ever wrote a story. I believe she still has it. All I can remember about it was that it had a Giraffe in it and a man called Shane Helms.

Who Inspires you?

I have to spilt this answer into two. For writing its easy Rachel Caine, Catherine Cookson and Celia Reece. Those three women gave me the inspiration to continue on writing when things are too hard to keep picking up the pen and seeing where it would take me.

In the sense of Wrestling, I have to say Kid Kash, Shane Helms, The Hardy Boys for without them I wouldn't have been such a fighter against my Arthritics as I am now.

What are you working on now?

Working on the second book of my telling of dealing with Arthritics. Its called "RA Saviours Guilt: How I Wanted To Die", which follows the successful book called 'Burning From Within: Inside Kristal McKerrington, Conquering RA and Dyslexia'.

We are also working on Wrestling Romance still. We are coming to the end of the A Different Life series. We are doing three short spin off series and these are going into Print in March. No fix dates yet. We have also got some more Young Adult stuff coming that isn't Wrestling Romance related.

Shetlands Immortals is also looking to be in print very shortly. We are starting with the first four ebooks and will be doing every four ebooks into one big print book. It will be the longest series I do. We have a map that states it will be over 32 ebooks.

Are there any future projects in the works?

With any future projects then you need to know there set in stone, as of yet Writing is my main goal. I love writing and hope to see some of it going towards film in the near future, but nothing is set in stone. We are also working on other things. I hope by the end of 2013 I'll be a screenplay Writer Professionally and an Author. That's the goal anyway.

Alpha Reviews

By Carrie Sund

Author:Anya Bast

Title: Witch Fire

Anya Bast had me blushing all the way through Witch Fire, the first book in the Elemental Witches Series. In case you are not at all into hot, steamy, erotic sex scenes you might want to stay away from this book.

If love a good love scene this is the right book for you. This dark novel is had me wanting more from the first page to the last page.

I have not always thought of myself as a big romance reader as it seem too much sex in a book can distract from the good stuff. It sometimes feels like filler material, but apparently not when it is done well.

Witch Fire is about a waitress named Mira, who practices Wicca but does not believe in the magical aspects or her religion. Then she meets Jack who saves her from a brutal attack at her apartment and proceeds to take her against her will.

Jack is a fire witch and he keeps telling her she is an air witch. He was sent to protect her from an evil warlock that is trying to sacrifice her. She was not raised as a witch at the request of her parents, so she finds all of this hard to believe.

Jack knows there is a natural attraction between air and fire so he tries to keep the sexual tension down to a minimum. He is not successful with this and he knows he could be in big trouble when his boss finds out.

I loved the interactions with Jack and Mira, they seemed so passionate. The more they were together the more I wanted them to stay together. I couldn't get enough of their intoxicating attraction.

The love story was really the focus of this book but there was still a ton of action and bloodshed. It was also very interesting to watch Mira learn about her heritage as Jack teaches her how to wield her power.

I loved this dark novel and can't wait for more therefore it gets five stars out of five.

Alpha Reviews

By Carrie Sund

Author: Karen Chance

Title: Touch the Dark

If you want an exciting book with all sorts of magic and supernatural beings this is the book for you. It moves quickly and the main character, Cassandra Palmer, if beyond interesting as they reveal just enough to keep your reading. Who doesn't love a book with witches, war mages, vampires, werewolves, Satyrs, faeries, were-rats and a plethora other supernatural creatures.

The book opens with Cassandra receiving what looks to be a death threat from the a vampire that she ran away from three years ago. Tony the vampire killed her parents and kept her because of her abilities. Cassandra amazing abilities to see the future and communicate with ghosts gets her into a heap of trouble.

Cassandra does not know much about her family or her own powers, as she is confronted with near death she learns just how much she doesn't know about herself. The Vampire Senate has sent a representative to protect her from Tony's attack. Now she if faced with joining forces with the Senate or going on the run again. Siding with the vampire senate is as bad as being on her own because she is considered a possession to them.

I really liked Cassandra from the first page to the last. Her personality was rather closed like anyone who had been on the run for three years. She didn't trust anyone but she wasn't nasty, just closed off. I thought Chance did a nice job developing a character that would win over her readers.

Many novels like this either have a strong, overly confident character or quite the opposite. I didn't see any of that in this novel, Cassandra was laid back and took on each hit as it came.

I really liked this book and I am going to have to give the book five stars. I am sure it is not going to be a classic but I rate on how much I enjoy reading the books.

There You Have It! My Opinion

By Cambria Hebert

Title: The Hunger Games

Author: Suzanne Collins

Published by: Scholastic 2008

Genre: Young adult, Dystopian

Format: Ebook and Print

Synopsis courtesy of GoodReads:

In the ruins of a place once known as North America lies the nation of Panem, a shining Capitol surrounded by twelve outlying districts. The Capitol is harsh and cruel and keeps the districts in line by forcing them all to send one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to participate in the annual Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live TV.

Sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen, who lives alone with her mother and younger sister Primrose, regards it as a death sentence when she steps forward to take her sister's place in the Games. But Katniss has been close to dead before — and survival, for her, is second nature. Without really meaning to, she becomes a contender. But if she is to win, she will have to start making choices that will weigh survival against humanity and life against love.

My Review:

This book has been out for a few years now, it's hugely popular and people everywhere rave about it. But for some reason I was never drawn to read it. I never knew why, I had no doubt that the reviewers were wrong, it's in my favorite genre (young adult) and I am always on the lookout for a great read.

So what was the problem? What was it about this book that I shied away from?

It actually kind of bothered me that I hadn't read it, on some level inside of me I wanted to. So when the Book Spark group on GoodReads announced they were going to read it for the book club I decided I was going to read it along with them. (Plus, the movie is coming out in March and I really want to see it but I like to read the book first.)

So I did. I literally read it in one day. I couldn't put it down. And I finally discovered why I had shied away from it for so long.

This book touched something in me deep down. I can't really explain it but to say reading it was an emotional experience for me. I am an avid reader. I love to read but it's rare I get very emotional when reading a book. But this was an exception.

I was sucked into this book for the very first page. Katniss grabbed a hold of me and wouldn't let go. Her life – her tragedies – were so incredibly heartbreaking but I never once felt sorry for her. I felt bad at her life's circumstances and I felt her pain and sorrow when she did but never sorry. She was so resilient that it was heartbreaking. And the fact that she tried so hard to take care of her sister and her mother (even though she was very angry at her mother and felt abandoned by her) was awe inspiring. The love she felt for her father was tangent and the way she clutched to his memory like a lifeline was beautiful.

The setting in this book was something unique and interesting. The way the districts were set up and the way the people were made to live was something I probably won't forget. They were all so beaten down but yet, they still took pleasure where they could and they supported each other – if only quietly.

When the "games" started in the book I was engrossed in every detail. I don't know if it's because I was so shocked that the government would actually do something like this or the fact that it was so inhumane that I just couldn't look away. I was actually angry that this was the way the government (or whatever they were called in the book) would try to control the people in the districts. Where was the freedom? It occurs to me that perhaps the people were kept separated so they could ban together and revolt.

A character that surprised me in the book was Peeta. He was a genuine character from the beginning and I really grew to like him. He seemed weaker than Katniss (though I think most people are compared to her) yet in a way he was stronger because of his planning and his sacrifices. I think it was partly because of him that she was able to do so well in the games.

I hadn't really expected the romance aspect in the book, I figured there might be a little in there, but it was a lot different than I imagined it might be. Also, I was surprised that the story continued on after the games ended, but it completely set up the next book in the series and I think played an important part in Katniss' story.

The one thing I am leery about for this book and for the next two books to come (I have yet to read them) is the love triangle that I think is coming. I am growing tired of love triangles. Not because they are over done. I think that it doesn't matter how many times a love triangle is written it can still be good if written with a fresh eye. (sidebar: Am I the only one that wonders why it's always a girl and two guys in the triangle? Why can't the guy ever get to pick? Lol) Anyway, the reason I am tired of love triangles is because someone always gets hurt. I don't like getting attached to two guys, getting to know them and then watching one of them (usually the one I like) get hurt. It makes for a difficult read.

Who am I rooting for? Gale, the childhood friend who served as inspiration and motivation to survive – who Katniss actually invisioned and heard his voice while at the games. Or, Peeta, the bakers son who treated Katniss with kindness at a time she most needed it and who loves her so much that I actually felt it.

It's a tough call. I don't want to pick and I don't know if I want to watch her pick. LOL.

So will I be reading the next two books in this series? Yes. The writing is beautiful. Not once did I falter through the story, not once did I have to stop and ask myself to recall something from the pages before. Suzanne Collins is a gifted writer. She can spin a sentence – a world – with grace and ease. I have a huge amount of respect for an author who can create such emotion within the pages of a book. It's inspiring.

I really don't think that this review has done this book justice but it's all I got. LOL. If you haven't read this book, if you are like I was, shying away because you somehow know that it will reach you in ways you didn't know possible. If you don't want to cry while reading a book (I hate that) or feel rage at a world that doesn't even exist then you should read this book.

You will feel all those things (if you are anything like me.) But I can honestly say that I am glad I finally picked up this book. I feel like it opened my eyes to a whole new world of writing.

So there you have it. My opinion.

There You Have It! My Opinion

By Cambria Hebert

Title: Catching Fire (Hunger Games #2)

Author: Suzanne Collins

Format: Print and ebook

Publisher: September 1st 2009 by Scholastic Press

Genre: Dystopian, Sci-Fi, Young adult

Synopsis (courtesy of GoodReads):

Against all odds, Katniss has won the Hunger Games. She and fellow District 12 tribute Peeta Mellark are miraculously still alive. Katniss should be relieved, happy even. After all, she has returned to her family and longtime friend, Gale. Yet nothing is the way Katniss wishes it to be. Gale holds her at an icy distance. Peeta has turned his back on her completely. And there are whispers of a rebellion against the Capitol - a rebellion that Katniss and Peeta may have helped create.

Much to her shock, Katniss has fueled an unrest she's afraid she cannot stop. And what scares her even more is that she's not entirely convinced she should try. As time draws near for Katniss and Peeta to visit the districts on the Capitol's cruel Victory Tour, the stakes are higher than ever. If they can't prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are lost in their love for each other, the consequences will be horrifying.

In _Catching Fire_ , the second novel of the Hunger Games trilogy, Suzanne Collins continues the story of Katniss Everdeen, testing her more than ever before... and surprising readers at every turn.

My review (courtesy of me!):

As you all might have read in my review for Hunger Games, I put off reading this series. Because I was partly afraid of it. I knew that whatever lied within those pages would impact me, would make me feel, might even make me cry. I didn't really want to go there. I was happy in my bubble gum world... but then the hoopla about the movie started and I thought that I better read it so I could watch the movies.

Catching Fire was just like Hunger Games in the fact that it made me feel, it made me cry and it kept me awake til I was done reading. This series is undoubtedly a page turner and an emotional rollercoaster.

Suzanne Collins has a breathtaking writing style that throws you right into the story and you feel everything Katniss feels, when she is hungry so are you. When she is hurting, so are you. It leaves you completely exhausted – yet wanting more.

I was exhausted when reading this book, I kept thinking "how much can one girl take?" and this girl, she take a lot. But she always hangs on, she always keeps fighting. I admire her so much for that.

Can I just say that I love me some Peeta??? I mean I really do.

Okay, I feel that I can move on now... this book is full of twists and turns and yet its somehow believable. I can't go into a lot of detail because I don't want to give anything away but I will say this book is worth the read. If you haven't read it you should. This isn't a book really, it's an experience and you come away asking yourself, "well what would I do if that happened to me."

I am moving on to the final book, Mockingjay, so I can see how all of this ends. I am hoping for a happy ending for the characters because they truly deserve it.

So there you have it. My opinion.

There You Have It! My Opinion

By Cambria Hebert

Title: Mockingjay

Author: Suzanne Collins

Genre: Dystopian, Sci-Fi, Young adult

Publisher: Scholastic Press

Synopsis (courtesy of GoodReads):

Katniss Everdeen, girl on fire, has survived, even though her home has been destroyed. Gale has escaped. Katniss's family is safe. Peeta has been captured by the Capitol. District 13 really does exist. There are rebels. There are new leaders. A revolution is unfolding.

It is by design that Katniss was rescued from the arena in the cruel and haunting Quarter Quell, and it is by design that she has long been part of the revolution without knowing it. District 13 has come out of the shadows and is plotting to overthrow the Capitol. Everyone, it seems, has had a hand in the carefully laid plains - except Katniss.

The success of the rebellion hinges on Katniss's willingness to be a pawn, to accept responsibility for countless lives, and to change the course of the future of Panem. To do this, she must put aside her feelings of anger and distrust. She must become the rebels' Mockingjay - no matter what the personal cost.

My review (courtesy of me):

***THIS REVIEW WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS ** IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE FIRST BOOKS IN THE SERIES DON'T READ THIS REVIEW.

I usually do not put spoilers in my review (I think it might be a first...) but I feel the need to give my opinion here and I want to do it without trying not to give things away, because I have a lot of opinions here. Lol.

I really enjoyed this book. Just like the first two books in this series, I was drawn into Suzanne Collin's world and had to keep reading to the very end. I will say that I am glad this series is on my read shelf and that I have finished the series, I wasn't sure how much more disaster and tragedy I could face. I felt exhausted when finished with this book. I mean, Katniss really goes through the ringer throughout this series and my heart breaks for her.

The brutality of the government was not lost on me and I completely understood why the districts revolted. I thought that Katniss as a symbol of their hope to change things, to stop the government was beautiful. Those people needed someone and she fit the bill. But it cost her dearly.

Katniss is a strong character and she did seem to grow a little weaker in this final book, but that was realistic. Who wouldn't grow weaker at everything that had been done to her? I understood her lapse in mental capacity even though I admit, it frustrated me. When Peeta was gone I kept thinking "GO GET HIM!" and "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" I would get upset because I had no clue what was happening to him and I knew it was bad. I just wanted him safe and I wanted her to fight like hell to get him back.

Then he did come back.

Can I just disclose, that I think Peeta had my heart from the very beginning of this series. The boy with the bread completely won me over. And I admit in the first book, I was thinking Gale might be the guy for Katniss because of the way she would picture him while she was in the games and how his memory gave her strength to keep going. And at first, Peeta seemed kind of weak to me, like he was accepting that he was going to die. But then something happened. It's like he grew up, he grew into this man who would do anything for Katniss because he loved her. He held that girl up when she didn't even know he was doing. He sacrificed himself over and over for her. He understood her, he chased away the nightmares... everything in him was so strong. And with that being said I want to say how in the world could she be with anyone other than Peeta?

Yes, I liked Gale. He was great, strong, dependable and protective. But he wasn't Peeta. In my humble opinion two people that have lived through and experienced what Peeta and Katniss did together could only end up together. They alone would understand the horrors they lived through. I think a bond was forged between them, a bond that would be indestructible by anyone else. Gale never stood a chance the minute Katniss was made a tribute. And I think that Peeta and Katniss deserve whatever happiness they could find when all this ended because hadn't they earned it? If two people can find their way back to each other after all of that (after the tracker jackers!) then people need to get the hell out of the way and let them live their lives. (Which, in essence is exactly what happened). Peronsally, I think that if Katniss had ended up with Gale it would have taken away from the series and what they went through.

As I said earlier, I did get frustrated by the long periods in the book where Katniss was kind of out of it (even though I understood it) and I was even more so frustrated by what was happening to Peeta. But really, I understood the need for all of it because you can't just come back from war and be okay.

I was also saddened by the death of Primm. What a waste of a beautiful life. Course all the lives lost were such a waste. I was beyond upset when Finn died as well (though I expected it) and when we find out his wife Annie had their baby I was saddened further because that child wouldn't know its father. It would be robbed of what it could have and should have had. It was beyond saddening.

So you can see why I was relieved when I had the series read, I was tired. I needed a break from the sadness and despair. I will say that the ending made it a little bit better because Peeta and Katniss do find their way back to one another.

All in all, this is a beautifully written series that I think everyone should experience. This book isn't about a love triangle. It's about survival. I am anticipating the movies to this series now and I hope that it does them justice.

So there you have it. My opinion.

Cherny's Corner Book Reviews

By Bob Cherny

Title: The Writer's Journey

Author: Christopher Vogler

Review:

A writer friend loaned me her copy of Christopher Vogler's "The Writer's Journey" in order to help me with my writing. This book belongs on every fiction writer's bookshelf. Whether you write short stories or multi-volume epic sagas, this book has valuable information that will help you organize and structure your work. Building on the work of Joseph Campbell, this book is easy to read and understand where Joseph Campbell's book is scholarly and dependent on a higher level of educational background.

If you are a writer, I challenge you to read this book and then go back through your works and pick out the thematic elements that you naturally included in your work that follow the structure demonstrated in this. I think you will be surprised to see how much of this structure you already follow and how you can improve your work by incorporating the offered suggestions.

As a reader, you can benefit from this book by being better able to analyze the works you read. You will be able to pick out the slavish adherents to the patterns from the truly creative. The information in this book will help you understand any story's structure and better appreciate the story whether the work is a ballet, a movie, a novel or an epic poem.

The book is easy to read and follows the structure it espouses. It is pedantic in places, but if that is the worst I can say about a book, I would not worry about being put off by it.

I am sure there are other books that cover this territory, but this is a good one.

Cherny's Corner Book Reviews

By Bob Cherny

Title: Eleanor

Author: Anne Atkins

Review:

Eleanor Roosevelt's impact on current American culture is easy to underestimate. This book puts her back in her rightful place in her historical era as well as pointing out the initiatives she started that continue to this day. In spite of the power of her words and the strength of the coalitions she assembled, the battles she fought continue to be fought.

The book is liberally supplemented with quotes from Eleanor like this one, _"I think the day of selfishness is over; the day of really working together has come, and we must learn to work together all of us, regardless of race or creed or color... We go ahead together or we go down together..."_ This comment is as relevant today as it was when she made it half a century ago.

Anne Atkins' prose is literate, and yet easy to read, with an understanding of which issues that were as topical when Eleanor dealt with them as they are today. It is this ability to make one of the greatest women in American history as contemporary as any woman on today's political scene that gives the book its greatest power.

This quote comes from early in the book:

Are these "the good old days" if life expectancy is a brief forty-five years? Millions die each year of infectious diseases and thirty-five thousand die every year in industrial accidents. There is no workers' compensation, no unemployment pay and no insurance. Severance pay is given because something at work got severed—a hand or a foot. In any arena Eleanor fights injustice and perseveres against overwhelming odds and chilling cruelties. Like Wonder Woman in support hose, she will win battles on the local, the national and the global scale. Her life is an example of moral courage and she becomes internationally known as "First Lady of the World."

First, she must survive her childhood.

Anne varies her tempo, her writing style and her pacing as appropriate to the events in Eleanor's life she is describing and at the same time keeps the work simple enough to use as a middle school or high school text book. While this is hardly the most erudite writing I have ever seen, it is solid, competent and conveys its message in a way that makes it read as smoothly as a mainstream novel.

One of the most difficult tasks for a biographer is to put the subject in their historical context and then draw the results of the subject's actions into the present day. This is the book's greatest strength. It is not the be-all-and-end-all in-depth biography of Eleanor Roosevelt with mountains or original research and hundreds of footnotes, but it is an open and accessible work that pays homage to one of the greatest women in American history.

The book is liberally illustrated with photographs which are carefully chosen to support the text. For the most parts these work, but their effectiveness is limited in some cases by the quality of the originals. There are a few photos that I am not sure I would have included, but even those do help further the story although not as much as some others.

The sidebar quotes are both an enhancement and a distraction. As with the photos, while I agree with the inclusions of most of them, I am not convinced some of the others belonged as sidebars and not in the body of the text. From the thousands of quotes and photos available, choosing the few to use must have been a mind-numbing task, but the final effect is solid and helps illuminate the written words.

I recommend this book for anyone over the age of fourteen who cares about where America is headed.

Cherny's Corner Book Reviews

By Bob Cherny

Title: There Goes the Galaxy

Author: Jenn Thorson

Review:

Brevity is the sole of wit and my dogs are tired.

Plot: Three stars

Characters: Three stars

Formatting and technical execution: Five stars

Humor: Two stars

This was pitched as a humorous take on a science fiction story and while parts of it are very funny and have a nice bite to them, the story goes on way too long. I had a lot of trouble finishing the book and put it down several times. The only reason I finished it was because when I requested it from LLBooks I pledged to review it. In order to keep my pledge I came back to it and eventually finished it. Fortunately, most of the last half of the book is pretty good.

There are flashes of brilliance like this passage:

Rollie leaned in. Bertram leaned in. Yes, there was definitely something small out there. One smallish thing where Rhobux-7 used to be.

So Rollie tossed himself into the pilot's chair and moved the ship in closer. He directed the ship's scopes to focus in. A magnified area formed in the window-screen. "It appears to be ..."

" _Yes?"_

"... _A sign."_

And the sign read:

You have reached the former location of Rhobux-7.

Sorry our planet's not able to come to these coordinates

right now, but leave us a message at our Uninet site—

uninet.seersofrhobux.rbx.7.q1.gcu—

and we'll be sure to get back to you.

For metaphysical emergencies,

visit our fellow prophets in the Nett star system.

Thanks for stopping by!

And then there are lengthy passages of parodies of instruction manuals that alternate between brilliant and boring. This is my favorite:

Peace Guard Nak cleared her throat. "'Now that you finish install of Klinko LK-31 Prisoner Confinement System, kindly ready yourself to enter a very exciting new realm of inbreakable security. Please to welcome to the knowledge that, in proper use, the Klinko LK-31 will be always having for you a highest level of safety comfort with even

your most dangerful apprehensions. It has specials super sensor to detect movement in confinement cell area. Also, it measure heart rate of cell occupant (if occupant is containing heart organ), as heart rate rise may indicate suspicious activity and nervousness in many lifeform. Klinko LK-31 Prisoner Confinement System is unharmable to hand-laser shooting, flame, and extreme weather condition if outside in its placement...'"

Zlotni grunted. "Are you using Translachew on that at all?"

" _Look," said Nak, "that's what it says."_

" _Skip a little," Zlotni told her._

Bertram opened an eye and could make out some blurry uniformed beings standing in the narrow hall on the other side of the bars. One was leaning over a technical manual roughly the size of a mini-fridge.

"' _To begin good use of Klinko LK-31 Prisoner Confinement System, you are first to be finding the Klinko Prisoner Confinement System keypad.'"_

Nak looked up as one of her fellow Peace Guards motioned toward the shiny new keypad.

" _Good," she continued. "'Once it is to be in your eyeball-looking, find yourself pushing the green Start button.'"_

Wezzag reached over and depressed a button on a keypad mounted on the wall. A bulb embedded in the hallway ceiling went green, bathing the cell block in a weird, slimy glow. "Next?"

"'... _But only after you to push the blue Clear button for clearing system ...'"_

Grumbling, Wezzag presumably pushed "Clear" and then the green button, which re-lit the hall light. "What now?"

"' _Now enter sixteen-digit number code which you choose.'" Nak looked up. "Anybody got a number in mind?"_

But even it goes on much too long from there.

Bertram Ludlow, one of life's basic archetypical sci-fi loser-heroes is kidnapped from his bedroom by a intergalactic miscreant, Captain Rolliam Tsmoorland. I am sure there is a pun in the name, but I have no idea what it is. He is quickly informed that his mission is to save the Earth, but from whom, from what and why are left mysteries.

Bertram's meeting with the "seers" who inform him of his mission the "seers" are constricted by a dialectic that should be funny, but only serves to slow the action down.

The entire business with the real estate agent should be funny, but it goes on too long. Too much time is spent on the description of the real estate agent's head. Okay, we got it the first time. The descriptions of the various corporations who are the potential buyers the agent is courting as might be quoted in their stock holder reports do not work and should be eliminated or drastically shortened.

The concept of the "Translachew" gum is quite good and provides the potential for pointed humor, but the humor takes too long to set up and once the punch line is reached, it is no longer funny.

The protest movement Bertram creates with its fall-out and the final conflict almost work. The narration in that critical scene is inconsistent and erratically paced leading to an ultimately unsatisfying ending.

This book would work well if it was two thirds its current length. I would expect a book like this from a first time author, but this author has won several prestigious awards. Maybe there is something here I am not seeing, but I do not know what it is.

Cherny's Corner Book Reviews

By Bob Cherny

Title: Germs, Genes and Civilization

Author: David P. Clark available from Amazon.

Review

David has prepared an exhaustive study of the impact of disease on society and culture. He has provided clear and verifiable answers to many mysteries which have confounded historians and scientists in other disciplines. One of my favorites of these answers is an explanation for Attila the Hun's sudden decision not to attack Rome when it appeared he could easily have taken it.

Detailed discussions of the impact of epidemics throughout history offer proof that the hypothesis set out in "War of the Worlds" is real. Disease and pestilence may have fended off more attacking armies than brilliant military strategies. The science is good, but it is not often so technical that the average person cannot understand it. I was a science major forty years ago, but I had no trouble following all the major concepts.

Most of us think of evolution in terms of millennial spans of time. As David points out, diseases evolve in as little as a few generations. Those who doubt the science of evolution and point to "missing links" and gaps in the fossil record, need to read this book. Germs evolve quickly. Small organisms change much faster in response to environmental pressure than large ones do.

As this book points out over and over, ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance is hazardous not only to your health, but to the health of everyone around you. Ignorance and mis-information are tools used by the powerful against the powerless. Education, sanitary conditions and proper hygiene are a population's best defenses against those that would seek to do them ill.

Ignore this book at your peril.

Robert H. Cherny

Author of:

"Flying with Fairies" I & II

"Doogie Stone"

"A Father's Ghost"

Club Lighthouse Publishing

Cherny's Corner Book Reviews

By Bob Cherny

Book: Dark Side of the Mirror

Author: R L Austin

Plot 5 Stars

Is fifteen year old Emily crazy or does she really hear voices in the mirrors?

Emily and her family have moved from Manhattan to San Francisco to live with her uncle in the large old house where her mother grew up. Emily's parents attribute the voices to the stress of the move and take her to see a psychiatrist. Emily is almost willing to go along, but when one of the voices turns out to be a fifteen year old boy who she can identify, and another the boy's father, everything changes.

Faced with a powerful opponent, Emily grows up quickly and steps up to the challenge using her wits, cunning and new-found powers.

Review:

I read the book in a single sitting. It is suitable for middle school and older, although adults will enjoy the story as well. It starts slowly but quickly picks up the pace. Once into the second chapter, the story races along at a furious pace.

The writing style is spare as would be appropriate of a good detective novel, which, in a sense, this is. There is a minimum of extraneous detail or unnecessary description. There are places where I think more detail would have enhanced the suspense, but it would have slowed down the action. This is a decision every author makes with every sentence.

The minimalistic writing style means that while Emily and Tyler's personalities are drawn in satisfying depth, the other characters are not filled out as well. While I agree with most of how the characters are handled, in the last few chapters, some of the characters, notably Ty's parents, fade out of sight. They are too important to have been shuffled off in this manner.

Even with my objections, I still feel the characterizations are worth four stars.

The writing style is perfect for the tone of the book and for the intended age of the reader. I found no grammatical, punctuation of formatting errors.

I would recommend this book for anyone middle school and older who likes a fun, easy, exciting read.

Luney Reviews

By Beth Ann Masarik

Title: Masquerade (Heven and Hell #1)

Author: Cambria Hebert

Publisher: Otherworld Publications

Date Published: December 7, 2011

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Synopsis (courtesy of Goodreads):

Before. Everything was so much better Before. I wasn't haunted by nightmares, my place at school was secure and my face was flawless. Now, I'm a freak and everything has changed. The worst part is that I can't remember the night I was sentenced to the shadows. The memory has been stolen from me and I just can't shake the feeling that someone, something is out there -watching.

Just when I think I have my life handled, Sam, with his intimidating golden stare and shiver inducing voice, makes me realize that I don't know anything. He makes me see that my scars don't matter. That they never mattered. I can't help but fall for him, completely unknowing that he knows exactly how I got this way. Not knowing he was involved.

***

Heven has no idea how closely death stalks her. She has no idea what I have done to keep her alive. I fear the day she learns my secrets, finds out what I really am. But even then I cannot stop, I vow to make things right. Finally her hunter will be hunted, Heaven and Hell, faith and sin will battle, and we will be victorious. But first, Heven must learn to be what she never imagined. I know her strength is there – I feel it. If we are to overcome all odds, she must push past her flaws - her frailties \- to become much more.

My Review:

To be perfectly honest, I did not know what to expect when I ordered my copy of Masquerade. When I first picked it up, I half expected it to have something to do with vampires and demons. After all, they were huge at one point, weren't they? But that's not what Masquerade was about at all.

Masquerade is about a couple named Sam and Heven, and all of the things that they have to endure to be together. Heven's mom is, for lack of a better term, a religious nut, and thinks that her scars are a mark of Satan. Her mother even goes so far as to telling her that! This causes a big rift in their relationship, and Heven eventually goes off and lives with her grandmother. Oh, and let's not forget that her mother dislikes Sam (surprise, surprise).

Sam is a complicated soul. He is a shape shifter (sort of), but I will not tell you what kind because I don't want to give too much away. Just know that he was kicked out of his own family because of what he is. One day, he stumbled upon Heven, and is infatuated with her. He stalks her, and follows her until one day he finally meets her and they well...you'll have to read the book find out the rest.

Long story short, I REALLY, REALLY enjoyed this book. Aside from some grammar and spelling hiccups (what book doesn't have them?), this was a VERY enjoyable book. If you love shape shifters, hot guys, and love triangles and jealous best friends, then this is the book for you!

Luney Reviews

By Beth Ann Masarik

Title: Blind Sight: Through the Eyes of Leocardo Reyes

### Author: Ermisenda Alvarez

### Genre: Young Adult Urban Fantasy

### Synopsis (taken from Goodreads):

### A blind girl drawing is abnormal even on the magical island of Edaion where leaves brush themselves into piles in the middle of the night. As an immigrant, Leocardo is not biased by accepted rules of magic and determines that Odette's drawings are premonitions. Aniela grew up with magic and knows premonitions are impossible. She determines Odette is a medium channeling voiceless spirits.

### In this volume: Snatched out of their life in Spain, Leocardo and his blind sister Odette find themselves on an island with no recollection of the trip. After foiled attempts to escape, Odette's strange behavior gets worse. Even after learning the island has bestowed magic upon them both, Leocardo faces the possibility his sister is having a mental break down. Just as he thinks he is settled in, job and romantic life stable, Odette disappears.

### My Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

### Review:

### To be perfectly honest, I didn't know what to expect when I first opened this book. I had never heard of Ermisenda before, and was honestly a little bit nervous about reading this book, as I am often when reading new authors. Though slow at times, I thought that this was an enjoyable read. It was short, which I liked, especially after just finishing a 360 page novel. In ebook format, it was only 190 pages. I thought that the concept of writing about a blind girl who gets premonitions from the dead was a VERY interesting concept. While I liked that Leocardo played the protective older brother, I thought he cried way too much. In any y books that I've read (at least lately), the male hero is strong. I understand that he and his sister were forced to stay in an unknown land, and that their parents no longer knew who they were, but grow some balls Leo!

### Aside from that, and the slow parts (which is what stopped me from giving it 5 stars), I really did enjoy the book. I am looking forward to reading the next book from leo's eyes.
Luney Reviews

By Beth Ann Masarik

Title: Blind Sight: Through the Eyes of Aniela Dawson

### Author: Eliabeth Hawthorne

### Genre: Young Adult Urban Fantast

### Synopsis (taken from goodreads)

### In this volume: While Aniela tries to escape a lifestyle where obligations take priority over friendships, she befriends Odette, a blind girl with the ability to draw. Almost immediately, concerns and questions arise as Aniela suspects that Odette's gift is far stronger than any seen before. In the middle of family turmoil and a complicated romantic relationship with Odette's brother, Aniela faces the realization that helping her comatose friend means disobeying her mother, something she has never done before.

### My Rating: 4 1/2 out of 5 stars

### Review:

### I have to say, that I really enjoyed reading about Aniela and her family. I especially liked Tatiana, and hope that there is a book dedicated to her. I love how while caring and sensitive Ana is, she is also very strong. I actually find her stronger than Leocardo in some respects. I think that out of all the characters in this series so far, Aniela is the one that has grown the most. I love how diplomatic she always is, even in a crisis. Yes, she loses her cool sometimes, but don't we all? She does what she has to do, and always seems to put others before herself. Honestly, I wish I could be more like Aniela.

### There was just enough action and suspense to keep you wanting more. I don't want to give too much away, but I liked all the psychic medium stuff that was thrown in. I've always been drawn to magic, and I think that is partially why I was so drawn to this book. You really got to see how the Dawson family (and some of the other civilians of Edaion) lived. I would highly recommend this book.

### Overall review of the series:

### So far, I really did enjoy both books. I am really very happy to have been privileged to meet these lovely authors. While they say you can read the books in any order, I would highly recommend starting off with Leocardo's book. Why? Because you will get a history on how and why Leocardo and Odette come to Edaion, something you do not really get in Aniela's book. There is information in each book that is left out of the other that I think you need to enjoy the series as a whole. I honestly can't wait to read future books in the series!

The Staff

Beth Ann Masarik, is the founder and chief editor of Literary Lunes. She created this magazine, because people are always coming to her for literary advice, and she wanted to be there for all aspiring writers. She is the author of the new YA/Urban Fantasy series called The World Among Us, and when she is not writing, she can be found working part time at a law firm in NY or spending time with her fiance and family.

Ashley Laura is dedicated to giving writers a voice outside of their work. For Literary Lunes, she assists with the accepting of article submissions and the formatting of the magazine. Outside of Literary Lunes, she is also the Municipal Liaison for Memphis National Novel Writing Month (NANOWRIMO).

Cambria Hebert, is a new edition to our staff, and our current book reviewer. Like Beth, she is a debut author, and a very talented one at that. We are very happy and lucky to have her on board. When Cambria isn't writing books, she also runs an internet radio show called Journal Jabber on Blogtalkradio.com. For more information about Cambria, visit her website at www.cambriahebert.com

Erin Danzer writes regularly for Literary Lunes, and recently signed with Beth and Cambria's publisher, Otherworld Publications. Like Beth and Cambria, she also writes for young adults. Erin not only contributes her own short stories, but sometimes she even contributes articles on how to write literature as well. For more information about Erin, please visit www.erindanzer.blogspot.com
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