Tag Archives: adventure

Is She or Isn’t She?

Ever wonder if that reclusive neighbor is something….different? Read on and get the real scoop!DSC09897

From the Archives of the Matriarchs

At the beginning, Great Goddess was. She is the Alpha and the Omega. She is Creative Force of all that Was, Is and Ever Will Be.

From Her Very Soul, she ripped pieces and formed the Goddesses in her own image. In blood and pain and sacrifice she gave birth to them. Their names are Mother of Magick who came to be called Hekate, Athena who was first known as Mother of Wisdom and Learning, Warrior Woman and Protector who came to be called Artemis, Woman of the Sun who refused any other name, and Woman of Fierce Darkness once called Amanirenas. These were the first five. Companions and co-creators with Great Goddess.

When their souls demanded them to create, she warned them that creation must come from ripping pieces of their own souls loose and implanting those pieces in the new creation. She told them that Creation could only be done amidst blood and pain and sacrifice for such is the nature of creation. Still their souls demanded for them to create and so they did.

Together they created all the universes, all the worlds, and all that lives within them. Except the Earth. Mother Earth was endowed with a strip of the soul of Great Goddess. From different parts of that strip of soul came the mountains, the valleys, the lakes, the oceans, the plains, the volcanoes, and all that make the body of Mother Earth.

Woman of the Sun took a piece of her soul and Created Father Sun then set him in the sky to warm the Mother. Amanirenas placed Grandmother Moon to shine when Mother Earth needed a rest from the strong rays and the warmth of Father Sun. Grandmother Moon fostered the quiet, the time for contemplation and feeling. Father Sun fostered action and growth.

Then Great Goddess took pieces of her soul and made the trees, the grasses, the flowers, and all that clothe Mother Earth.

Hekate, Athena and Artemis took pieces of their souls and made the animals, the creatures of air, of water, of earth. And because each piece of soul was unique, each creation–be it tree or be it tiger–was unique.

Great Goddess called together her companions and co-creators and they shared the worlds and universes they had created–each beautiful in its own way. Yet, when they gazed upon Mother Earth, in spite of all they had Created, they felt something was missing. Some essential element still needed to be brought forth. They Dreamed long and finally decided. This was a world where they could place small images of themselves, to watch each one grow and develop; to watch as they came into their creative powers. And so it was that Woman was Created. They let their Creative Powers rejoice and out of this celebration came the many colors and shapes and sizes of these replicas of Great Goddess and the Goddesses that Great Goddess named Woman. In a great burst of joy, they also created almost-replicas of themselves that Great Goddess named Man, for he was not fully a woman.

They Gifted Woman with a small bit of their own Creative Power. In her, new life could grow, but only in the image of the female. So it was that tigers gave birth to tigers and humans gave birth to humans.

Man begged to feel closer to Great Goddess and the Goddesses, begged to become more like them. And so, it came to pass that Great Goddess Gifted man with a seed that could assist in the creation of new life. Man rejoiced to be so close to Great Goddess, to be a part of creation.

Great Goddess created almost-replicas of the Goddesses and called them gods. They, like the almost-replicas on Mother Earth, could not create as the Goddesses did.

For millennia, all grew and prospered both in the Heavens and on Mother Earth. Woman and Man took only what they needed to live and they gave back as much as they took. So the balance continued.

After many millennia, the gods became restless. Unbeknownst to Great Goddess, they incited human males to anger and envy of the human females’ ability to create life. They filled the weaker male minds with thoughts that were subversive to all that Was and Ever Had Been.

Eventually, human males who followed the gods enticements were named Caine by the gods to distinguish them from the ones that followed the Way of Great Goddess. They named those Abella, as the leaders were always females.

During the Dark of the Moon, the followers of Caine rose up and slaughtered the unsuspecting followers of Abella, those who held tight to the Teachings of Great Goddess and the Goddesses. Millions died. That period of time came to be known as The Great War.

Because each living being held a piece of Great Goddess’ soul or a piece of the souls of the Goddesses, and therefore were given freewill, Great Goddess could not allow interference in The Great War, could not allow the usurpation of Freewill.

There came a time, however, when Artemis wept and threw herself at the feet of Great Goddess. Those the Goddesses loved had been reduced to small groups and even then the Children of Caine hunted them. She begged Great Goddess to allow her to save the remnants of their people, those who were known as the Children of Abella.

And so it came to pass that Artemis bestowed upon the Children of Abella certain powers. Among those powers were enhanced senses, enhanced strength, and near-immortality. The other Goddesses gathered close and they, too, bestowed certain powers upon the Children of Abella. In return for the many powers, Artemis demanded that the Children of Abella adher to the Purpose set by Great Goddess Herself.

The Children of Abella must never kill without reason, and must seek to help the Children of Caine overcome their blood that had been poisoned by envy, greed, hate, and needless violence.

So the Children of Abella would never forget their connection to the Children of Caine, Artemis decreed that in order to live, the Children of Abella must drink the blood of the Children of Caine. To remind the Children of Abella that none are free of fault, they were afflicted by sexual lust. The only way to be free of the Lust was to find their True Mate, be that mate a Child of Caine or a Child of Abella. Not all would find a True Mate.

Because the root of human male envy was the human females’ ability to create life, among the Children of Abella only the female could create life. To more tightly bind the Children of Abella to the Children of Caine, only a liaison with a human male would result in a child.

Because males brought about destruction, only females could hold power over the Children of Abella. Born females received Powers upon their 24th birthday. Before the receiving of power, they were brought to the House of the Head of their Family and watched over as the Power Came Upon them. Not all survived the Coming of Power. Born males never received powers nor were they able to impregnate females of either species.

Both Born male and female could Create new Children of Abella through a controlled bite and sharing of blood. Only females were allowed to do so without explicit permission of the Head of the Family. Created males were a lower caste than Born males. They could aspire to the Born male caste through accomplishments.

Huvams–those children born to a Vampire mother with a human father–became the leaders of the Children of Abella. Created females could aspire to leadership through their accomplishments.

A World Council of Five Matriarchs ruled all the Children of Abella.

The world was divided into regions and each region was headed by a Matriarch. Within the regions, First Councilwomen ruled the Heads of Family. The Heads of Family were responsible for all Children within their extended Family.

Over time, the Children of Abella came to be called Vampire. The Children of Caine came to be called Human and mostly forgot that the Children of Abella still lived.

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2 INTERESTING #BOOKS ,REGARDLESS OF READER’S AGE

Books shaped my life, both as a child and now as an author. Girls have had to struggle with the restricted abilities and often uselessness of female characters–all too often Manic Pixie Dream Girls whose only function was to be there to help the boy achieve his destiny; the blonde bimbo to show how really smart the guy was; the damsel in distress so the hero could do his heroics.

This history is why I read YA novels, among many other kinds of genres. I search for novels that show women and girls as being the rescuers, the heros, the do-ers that change their worlds. I look for novels that young girls can read and come away from feeling good about themselves, having their imaginations fired up with all the things that girls CAN DO!

I am pleased to have found two more such books. These YA books are interesting reads regardless of the reader’s age.

Angelbound by Christina Bauer

http://www.amazon.com/Angelbound-Christina-Bauer-ebook/dp/B00EQGQ6OI

Myla Lewis, quasi-demon, has all the problems many eighteen-year-olds have: overprotective–single–mom, finish school, talk older friend into helping her sneak into the Arena. There’s a big difference though: she lives in Purgatory. She’s a gladiator–a woman who fights evil human souls to total destruction, hers or theirs. She has to win in order to stop evil human souls from transitioning into Heaven where they would do the King of Hell’s bidding and cause chaos.

The voice of Myla was well done and pulled me quickly into the story. I couldn’t help but cheer the little demon on. Right from the first, it was skillfully brought out that Myla’s mom was harboring secrets. Devastating secrets.

What could be worse than the chaos of Purgatory where the ghouls rule under the King of Hell’s banner and make life perilous for all other creatures? Myla is about to find out.

Don’t want to do a spoiler by accident, so suffice it to say this is a mystery with a bit of romance and a lot of fantasy.

Myla is definitely on my list of strong female characters. YA novel, but I rate this as suitable for plain vanilla adults. A four star read.

 

The Ghost Files by Apryl Baker

http://www.amazon.com/Ghost-Files-Apryl-Baker-ebook/dp/B00EJ62OMS

Sixteen-year-old Mattie Hathaway, a foster child, has a slight problem: she sees ghosts. Not friendly Casper, but kids with bullet holes in their heads. Not even her best friend, Meg, realizes this. And, Mattie is determined that no one will know; after all, she feels enough like a weirdo as it is. She’s decided that ignoring the ghosts is the best way to force them to leave her alone.

She doesn’t know how wrong she is! When her foster sister, Sally, turns up dead with a bullet hole in the forehead, Mattie pushes aside her feelings about ghosts and opens herself to them. Can she find Sally’s body so that her foster sister can be laid to rest?

A read that quickly pulls you in and moves along. In the face of incredible odds, Mattie battles the hidden evil that is killing children. Will she win? Will she survive, or is she slated to be one of those children drifting around with a bullet hole in her head?

Mattie is a well-developed strong female character that is easy to like and to root for. YA novel but I rate this as suitable for plain vanilla adults, too. A four star read.

5 GREAT BOOKS YOU MAY NOT KNOW ABOUT

  1. Who Am I? by Megan Cerulewski. This nonfiction book should be required reading for anyone working in a helping profession that deals with women. The story of finding light in the dark depths of abuse. No graphic violence and no graphic sex but the material is for adults only. A heartbreaking, and inspiring story! http://www.amazon.com/Who-Am-Daughter-Taught-Again-ebook/dp/B00MBKZD9K

  2. Stones by Ruby Standing Deer. Journey to a culture that revered all of life as sacred in Book 3 of Ruby Standing Deer’s saga of Ancient Native Americans. Join Dove and Singing Stone as they fight to save the wild mustangs! This book has no graphic violence and no graphic sex, just a great story! http://www.amazon.com/Stones-Ruby-Standing-Deer-ebook/dp/B00M1YXETW

  3. The Crimson Orb by Joyce Hertzoff. A delightful read full of magic and adventure! No graphic violence and no graphic sex in this book, just a fun read! http://www.amazon.com/Crimson-Orb-Joyce-Hertzoff-ebook/dp/B00KWUO7E8

  4. Mark of the Loon by Molly Greene. From the time that Mallory Blackburne hears “the thunderous boom of metal striking wood…” this mystery captures the reader. Romance and mystery without the need for graphic sex or graphic violence; just a great read! http://www.amazon.com/Mark-Loon-Gen-Delacourt-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00838H1OY

  5. Unbreakable Bonds by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson. Ghosts and families…which makes the most trouble for Angela Panther? A fun read. No graphic violence and no graphic sex, just a relaxing read! http://www.amazon.com/Unbreakable-Bonds-Angela-Panther-Novel-ebook/dp/B00JBR808W

As an author, I read voraciously and range over a number of genres. For my selections for this blog, I decided to introduce books that tell a great story without the need for graphic violence and graphic sex.

I love discovering writers and books. Do you have a favorite book or an author who is not mainstream that you would like to share with us? Please, leave the author’s name and/or the title of the book in a comment!

Be sure to CLICK and FOLLOW so you don’t miss future posts!

Are you looking for an audiobook? Sketch of a Murder is now available as an audiobook: http://www.audible.com/pd/Mysteries-Thrillers/Sketch-of-a-Murder-Audiobook/B00MI0ER8Q (this book has graphic violence and some graphic sex)

THE RETURN

THE RETURN

Time moves on, sometimes far too quickly. I left Hidden Springs Campground and meandered north on Highway 101. trees

I swung off my course long enough to visit Ferndale once again, enjoy the old buildings DSC01432and hit the Ferndale Pie Company. They advertised “Great homemade pies topped with Humboldt Creamery Ice Cream”. The mixed berry pie and vanilla ice cream lived up to the hype and I grabbed one of their “small brownies”–read large enough to feed half of Darrington!–and hit the road.

That evening I camped in a small campground a couple of miles south of Orick, California. When I rode in, it looked like the proverbial cheap sites place, probably with limited hot water that ran red from old pipes. Couldn’t have been more wrong about the showers, or the place. Within yards of my campsite, a Roosevelt Elk calf lay in the grass while mom grazed in the field. DSC01583 DSC01588

The next day dawned with clear skies and I hopped my bike, anxious to ride. Somewhere breakfast called my name. Just inside the southern boundaries of Orick an old motel and restaurant squatted beside Highway 101. Since the town was so small, choices were limited so I parked and walked into what appeared to be a run-of-the-mill greasy spoon–emphasis on greasy spoon.

I headed for the far corner and sank into the chair. The Palm Cafe served eggs done to perfection, the waffle browned and sporting luscious red strawberries, the bacon crisp, the sausage gravy and biscuit to die for. I washed it all down with coffee black, hot, and wonderful.1226 photos from new camera 706

The 88 year-old woman who owned the restaurant came in every morning to bake fresh pies from scratch. Being told that, I had to try a piece though I wondered how I’d move, much less get up on a horse! The strawberry cream pie melted in my mouth and made me forget all about how many calories it had.

I sucked down some more coffee then headed off for my horseback ride. The brochure of The Redwood Creek Buckarettes hooked me with the siren call of “ride among ancient redwoods”. As soon as I saw the big beasts, I recalled that a horsewoman I was not and  wandered if maybe I should’ve plugged my ears. 1226 photos from new camera 708

The woman guide grinned at me and pride wouldn’t let me walk away. She walked a red quarter horse over to the mounting block.  I dragged myself onto the saddle. Jade was so broad I felt like I was doing the splits. 1226 photos from new camera 736I’d never been that athletic!

Still, once we got moving–just me and the guide–the rocking motion of Jade put my mind at ease and let my eyes wander. The path ran straight beside a small river then began a gentle climb up the hill. Within minutes the climb steepened and the trees closed off the modern world.1226 photos from new camera 733

The trail meandered into the National Redwood Forest through a stand of old growth redwoods that had escaped mankind’s rapacious greed. Silence broken only by an occasional bird call wrapped around my soul. Two hours later, we emerged at the base of the hill and on back to the rodeo grounds from where we’d left.

I slid off Jade and walked bowlegged over to my bike.

That night as I listened to the lapping of the waves against the shore, I swallowed down Ibuprophen, yet couldn’t stop smiling at the memories of the horse’s rocking motion, the quiet, and the ancient trees. That night I dreamed of redwoods and horses.

I awoke to the chill of a Crescent City morning with harbor seals barking on a rock just offshore. 1226 photos from new camera 785I listened until the fog rolled the rest of the way off the water and the seals barking had died away. The Apple Peddler Restaurant lay a few miles south of my position, the opposite direction of my travel, but I remembered their mouthwatering food and strong hot coffee. What’s a few miles? After breakfast, I followed Highway 101 along the Pacific Ocean and on up to Oregon.1226 photos from new camera 808

 

That afternoon, I rode into Battle Rock, Oregon. The Battle Rock Wayside and City park on the left caught my eye. I drove in and shut down the bike. 1226 photos from new camera 856

The Redfish Restaurant , a small square building with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the beach and situated on the edge of the park looked like the kind of place to be pricey with tiny portions and mediocre food, but I was hungry and too impatient to check out the other offerings in town. Besides, all the tables were tables had a view. 1226 photos from new camera 840I figured that was worth something.

The butternut squash soup was creamy and flavorful, nearly as good as the soup Falomi made at Mother Earth’s Bounty. The pulled pork sandwich was done right–tender, juicy, smoked pork without the smothering bottled sauces too often used. The salad was a nice mix of crisp, fresh spring greens.

It seemed like every time I had made a snap judgment based on appearances, I’d been proven wrong. My friend, Jaimie Wolfwalker, would’ve said Creator was trying to teach me to withhold judgment based on appearances and to learn to evaluate life on substance. Of course, Jaimie walked closer to the spiritual side of life than I ever had. Guess that went with being psychic and part Native American.

Late that afternoon, I crossed the highest bridge I’d ever ridden Coos Bay Bridge then the sand dunes in Oregon snuck up on me and I nearly ran off the road gawking. 1226 photos from new camera 877The sign for Spinreel Dune Buggy called to me, though I was by no means sure I should heed the call. I turned off and headed that way, just to check things out. Size wise, the rental place wasn’t that big. I wandered in, checked out the buggys and nearly left.

I’d walked to my bike, started it up and began backing out of the parking area when a vision that had never happened flashed across my mind: Alicia laughing as she raced a buggy down the face of a sand dune. I shut down the bike, took a deep breath and shook my head at myself. Alicia had been far more adventurous than I, and it appeared that her ghost had taken up challenging me to act beyond my doubts.

Being a conservative driver, I only raced down one cliff face of sand, holding my breath the entire distance. 1226 photos from new camera 870Of course, I wouldn’t have gone down it, but I’d already topped the dune and didn’t know how to go anywhere except straight down!

If you like roller coasters and the way they teeter at the pinnacle of drops, you’d love riding dune buggys. I hated roller coasters. Alicia had loved them. At the Puyallup Fair, she’d teased me into taking her on one–five times! Each time I got off, I swore I’d never do that again, yet I climbed back on because I loved hearing Alicia laugh.

More than anything else during my trip, the Spinreel Sand Dunes momentarily brought Alicia back to me. I left them feeling as if I had gained some great gift; and, I had.

Idling into Florence, Oregon, long after most people were home and vegging in front of television sets, I found BJ’s Ice Cream right on the main road, a dessert junkies dream. Ice cream made from scratch nestled among the baklava, cheesecake, tiramisu, tarts and cream horns.

Nick and Ron, the two young men behind the counter, gave me a brief rundown on BJ’s. Cole Brother’s Creamery started in 1917 in Slatter, Idaho, beginning a four-generation family tradition of making old-fashioned, batch ice cream. A three scoop ice cream sundae later, I groaned out the door carting a bag with a selection of tarts and cream horns.

That night I tossed my sleeping bag on the ground close enough to hear the coastal sunsetocean whisper and shush.   I awoke to sand and the chill of a coastal morning.DSC01517

Saturday afternoon found me drifting through DePoe Bay, Oregon. A sign bragged that it was the “World’s Smallest Harbor.”

Fifty miles north of the Oregon border, I rode through the small city of Raymond, Washington. Large steel sculptures popped up all over the town. Wildlife, people, pets, even an ox pulling logs through what was once a lumber town.

Once through Raymond, I stopped a few times during the rest of my ride home, but I was tired and eager to get home. I pushed hard. Around Aberdeen, Washington, I picked up Highway 12 East and caught Interstate 5 a few miles north of Olympia. A few minutes after midnight, I rode into my driveway.

I was home.

Some of the places Jaz talked about: (not in any particular order)

www.northwestplaces.com/trips002/Raymond001 (Raymond, Washington–a town of steel sculptures)

www.redwoodcreekbuckarettes.com (horseback tour among the ancient redwoods)

www.ridetheoregondunes.com (Spinreel Dune Buggy and ATV Rentals)

BJ’s Ice Cream, 2930 Hwy 101, Florence, Oregon

www.savetheredwoods.org/   (Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park: the most old growth redwoods in California)

http://www.redwoodhikes.com/Humboldt/Founders (Coast redwoods once grew naturally in many places across the Northern Hemisphere. Due to manmade and climatic changes, Coast Redwoods now only grow naturally in a narrow 40 mile wide and 450 mile long coastal strip from southern Oregon to southern Monterey county in California. The Dyerville Giant which stood for approximately 1600 years fell on March 24, 1991.)

humboldtredwoods.org/hidden_springs (Hidden Springs Campground, California)

AvenueOfTheGiants.net   (Avenue of the Giants, California)

www.california-native-wood.com (Orick, Ca. very nice natural wood gifts and keepsakes)

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Palm-Cafe-Motel/166106546757081 (Palm Motel and Café Orick, California)

To read more about Jaz Wheeler: http://www.amazon.com/Run-Die-Aya-Walksfar-ebook/dp/B00KV8BK5A

 

AMONG THE SACRED ANCIENTS

AMONG THE SACRED ANCIENTS: Jaz Wheeler’s Journey Among the #California #Redwoods

Dark settled its shawl over the redwood forest as I drove into Hidden Springs Campground. My headlights picked out cars and tents and RVs as I wound my way along the curvy asphalt to my reserved spot.

Redwood sentinels stood guard at the entrance as I pulled onto the leveled area and shut off my bike. Quiet embraced me. Exhausted, I flipped out my bedroll and lay down. The next thing I knew, birds chirped in the bushes as the sun filtered through the trees. DSC01223

After a quick breakfast of granola bar and bottled water, I stuffed my bedroll in the bear proof box, snapped a small padlock on it then hopped on my bike.

Those years ago, after Alicia was lost and even after I left Hawk Hill and Hopewell Farm, playing tourist was far from my mind. The redwoods had started the healing of my wounded soul, but I hadn’t been ready to take side trips to places like the Drive-Thru Tree at Myers Flat. DSC01205

And, I’d never seen a two-story tree house! DSC01215

I learned a little more about the majestic redwoods.  Drive thru shrine water stats

When I entered the gift shop, this little guy greeted me. By the time I left, he’d worked so hard to make tourists feel welcome that he was simply exhausted. shop dog at drive thru tree

For the rest of the day, I wandered among the ancient giants, drifting from one grove to another, beginning with the Founder’s Grove then on up to the Rockefeller Forest where the Giant Tree and the Tall Tree resided. DSC01239 DSC01238

When I entered Rockefeller Forest, I entered a sacred time and place.

person among giants

Like my heart, the Forest held light and shadows and jagged memories.

DSC01292

Eventually, the passing of the hours forced me to return to my campsite.

evening comes in forest

 

For more photos from Jaz’s exploration of the Redwood Forest, go to http://www.pinterest.com/ayawalksfar

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To learn more about Jaz Wheeler, read Run or Die. http://www.amazon.com/Run-Die-Aya-Walksfar-ebook/dp/B00KV8BK5A

 

 

SOUTH TO ANCIENT FORESTS

I’m Jaz Wheeler and I’m a private investigator. The small town of Darrington, Washington lies five miles east from my land. When the Highway 530 Mudslide swept away the tiny community of Hazel/Steelhead Lane at a bit after ten o’clock on a Saturday morning, I was away from home. IMG_0051

When I returned to Darrington that evening, via the 85 mile roundabout way along Highway 20, I stepped off my V-Strom 650 and into chaos and fear and ten thousand other emotions all running in fifth and overdrive.

For the next few weeks, I did anything and everything. I inventoried donations, I bagged groceries, I handed out gas cards, I registered volunteers and did a multitude of other various tasks alongside of neighbors I hadn’t met in all the years that I had lived up here. Long days and short nights were the order for all of us with that certain knowledge that the only news we’d be getting from that mud and debris field would be of death and loss.

I watched the town cry and hug and support each other, and they gave just as freely to me as to those people they had known all their lives. Humbled and uplifted by the strength and courage I saw every day, I slogged on to the end.

All but one victim was finally found. The road reopened on a limited basis with one way traffic.road open one way

I packed my bags and headed south. I needed to get away from all the reminders of sorrow and loss and clear my head. The only place I knew to do that was the California Redwoods.

Friday the 13th, I idled slowly between the walls of pushed back mud slopes, down the roughed up asphalt of Highway 530 then kept on driving.IMG_0016

With single-minded determination, I rode Interstate 5, dodging kamikaze drivers and hardly stopping long enough for bathroom breaks. The cool wind blew cobwebs of sadness out of my mind. The first night I stayed in an easily accessible Motel 6. Nothing to shout about, but a shower and a bed for the night and a nearby restaurant for breakfast.

The next morning a gray sky greeted me as I hiked a leg over the V-Strom’s seat. I didn’t linger that day, either, preferring to push toward the redwood forests. I entered Gasquet, California that evening.

I’d first discovered the redwoods the spring after I lost Alicia. Grandmother Pearl sent me south along Highway 101 to Hopewell Farm and my destiny, though I didn’t know it at the time. I just knew I hurt so bad that even breathing without Alicia in the world seemed wrong and painful. Not really wanting to meet someone new, I camped out in Jedidiah Smith Park near Gasquet in northern California then spent several more days in various redwood forest campsites I found along the way. Sleeping on damp ground felt preferable to meeting Alicia’s Aunt Aretha.

Though I didn’t realize it, my healing started there, among those giant, silent Ancients.  If I hadn’t taken the time to linger among them, back then, I would never have stayed on Hopewell Farm. And…I would not be writing this journal.

So, on this June day, I again sought the healing of the Ancients as I shut down my bike and stepped onto the soft floor of the forest. Nearby a stream tumbled lazily over rocks, chuckling along its way. Filtered sunlight drifted through the green canopy far overhead. So far overhead that I had to bend nearly double backwards to glimpse the intertwining branches. That night I flipped my bedroll out and shut my eyes as the true darkness closed in.DSC01227

The next morning the chill dampness had me wishing for the warmth of a hotel room and a hot cup of coffee. I rolled up my sleeping bag and lashed it on my bike. Highway 199 from Gasquet to Crescent City is a winding, narrow ribbon with hairpin curves and uneven surface and trees that stuck their roots out to the edge of the road.Tree toes in road

It woke me up.

 

Wednesday Jaz’s journey continues. CLICK and FOLLOW so you don’t miss the rest of the journey.

To read about how Jaz became a private investigator, get your copy of Run or Die go to  http://amazon.com/Run-Die-Aya-Walksfar-ebook/dp/B00KV8BK5A

 

#THRILLER : A PERFECT DAY BOOK REVIEW

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CHECK OUT THIS COOL GIVEAWAY! JUST CLICK THE ABOVE LINK TO RAFFLECOPTER.

#BOOKREVIEW BY AYA WALKSFAR: THE PERFECT DAY

A nail-biting #thriller!

Gunnar Lawrence’s book hooked me from the first page. The author has woven a story full of surprising twists and turns. How does a homeless man figure in a series of seemingly unrelated murders? What does the killing of illegal immigrants have to do with the past war in Iraq?

The descriptions are spare, but they draw the reader right into the scene.

The characters are so well-drawn that I felt like I wanted to help that homeless man, assist that woman and her daughter; and they weren’t even the main characters!

It’s a novel with graphic violence that isn’t gruesome. That is a difficult thing to pull off.

The chapters give the reader different perspectives on the unfolding drama, but it is all woven into a tight story.

The subtle romance in the book doesn’t depend on sex or the ‘hottest looking…’  It’s real and poignant.

The Perfect Day is a story with meat on its bones and heart in its plot. A book that I highly recommend.

WHERE TO FIND GUNNAR ANGEL LAWRENCE:

https://www.facebook.com/gunnarangel.lawrence

https://twitter.com/GunnarALawrence

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6445679.Gunnar_Angel_Lawrence

http://gunnarangellawrence.blogspot.com/

http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Detective-Paul-Friedman-Thrillers-ebook/dp/B00CKS8FFM/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1387042785&sr=1-6

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-perfect-day-gunnar-lawrence/1116237807?ean=2940045186636

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/339529

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1e40b20/

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#INTERVIEW: THRILLER AUTHOR GUNNAR LAWRENCE

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#INTERVIEW WITH #THRILLER WRITER GUNNAR ANGEL LAWRENCE

Why did you write this book?

It’s been on my mind since I first heard of the “Perfect Day” scenario plans discovered by US Military forces shortly after 9/11. It was a sort of “what would happen if” the horror that is a terrorist attack found its way to the most innocent and family friendly destination, Orlando, Florida.

How is your book different from other books about terrorists?

Most books pit an elite trained force (CIA, FBI, etc) against terrorists. In the Perfect Day, when the elite trained forces are scattered to the wind, it’s up to a detective, a reporter and a fraud examiner to do what they can.

Who is your favorite character and why?

I like Paul Friedman. He is a no nonsense kind of detective who is very good at his job. He’s observant, smart and has a personable feel to him. Gary Michaels is complex and has had a rough life going through what he has. It’s hard for me to choose just one.

How would you describe your writing style?

Fast paced. Action oriented.

Do you have other published books?

Yes. The first Paul Friedman thriller is entitled Fair Play. It’s the story of a pedophile and murderer who gets off on a technicality. I make a living as a freelance writer so many of the other books I have published are of non-fiction variety. There are also a number of adult titles that I did for a short period of time. I’m hoping to break out of that type of writing and stick with the thriller novels that I enjoy so much.

What advice would you give to new writers about self-publishing?

Keep writing. It is a hard road but there is an increasing number of indie authors who forego the traditional route and do so with pretty decent results. Things are changing in the publishing industry and it is becoming less and less desirable to opt for the old way of doing things.

How important is cover design and how did you decide on your cover?

Cover design is important because like it or not, people DO judge a book by it. When I saw the image in my search for The Perfect Day cover I knew I had the one I wanted. An hourglass set against a setting sun: it was just haunting.

What do you do when you aren’t busy writing?

I work full time as a freelance writer.  When I am not writing for a new novel, or a work project, I am either reading or working out at the gym.

Who is your favorite author and why?

For thrillers, I really enjoy the Steven James works The Pawn, The Bishop, etc. Lots of action, lots of twists and turns and you just never know what is going to happen.

Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

Hopefully, putting out a book every year or more. If I am able to sell enough so that I don’t have to write on the ebook or ghostwriting projects, it would be great for me and I could breathe a little more. After The Perfect Day comes the third book entitled, The Consortium. I’m hoping to finish that one in early 2015. If I’m not spending forty hours a week writing other things, it might be sooner.

#BOOKREVIEW BY AYA WALKSFAR: THE PERFECT DAY

A nail-biting thriller!

Gunnar Lawrence’s book hooked me from the first page. The author has woven a story full of surprising twists and turns. How does a homeless man figure in a series of seemingly unrelated murders? What does the killing of illegal immigrants have to do with the past war in Iraq?

The descriptions are spare, but they draw the reader right into the scene.

The characters are so well-drawn that I felt like I wanted to help that homeless man, assist that woman and her daughter; and they weren’t even the main characters!

It’s a novel with graphic violence that isn’t gruesome. That is a difficult thing to pull off.

The chapters give the reader different perspectives on the unfolding drama, but it is all woven into a tight story.

The subtle romance in the book doesn’t depend on sex or the ‘hottest looking…’  It’s real and poignant.

The Perfect Day is a story with meat on its bones and heart in its plot. A book that I highly recommend.

WHERE TO FIND GUNNAR ANGEL LAWRENCE:

https://www.facebook.com/gunnarangel.lawrence

https://twitter.com/GunnarALawrence

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6445679.Gunnar_Angel_Lawrence

http://gunnarangellawrence.blogspot.com/

http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Detective-Paul-Friedman-Thrillers-ebook/dp/B00CKS8FFM/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1387042785&sr=1-6

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-perfect-day-gunnar-lawrence/1116237807?ean=2940045186636

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/339529

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1e40b20/

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You can also visit me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/ayawalksfar

Ruby Standing Deer Bestselling Author

Today I #interview #RubyStandingDeer, the #bestsellingauthor of  #CIRCLES, the first book in her  #NativeAmerica series. The second book, #SPIRALS, has also garnered much praise.  Ruby kindly consented to share her thoughts on books, and on life, with us.

Interviewer: What inspired you to write a series about #NativeAmerica several hundred years ago?

Ruby Standing Deer:  I dream a lot. In this dream, a Native elder sat in a chair across from me. He crossed his arms and started into my eyes. “Why don’t you get off your butt and write a book?” he grinned then faded. I jerked up and asked, “What book?”  No answer.

I started to drift off and only moments later, I heard a woman telling me about herself, and about her grandson. At three AM I found myself sitting in my chair with the laptop open. It did not take long before I had written a chapter, then two.  This is how #CIRCLES was born.

Interviewer: I noticed that your books do not contain explicit sexual content, nor do they have excessive violence.  What moved you to write without the sex and violence when many books today have a lot of both?

Ruby Standing Deer: Sex is a scared, private matter to be shared by a couple. Among my people it was not spoken of. I kept this tradition.

Violence, in ancient North America among the various tribes and clans, was not absent by any means. Many times, however, differences were worked out through talk. Even to garner honor in battle, it was not always necessary to kill the enemy. In fact, it was considered far braver to ‘touch’ an enemy than to outright kill them. It was called coup (pronounced coo).
Today, too many books are filled with violence, revenge and hatred. Isn’t there enough? Must it be that way for entertainment as well? Violence is at the core of many television shows, the news, and in real life, in your neighborhood.  Why must it be in all of the stories we read? Isn’t it enough to enjoy #humor, #spirituality, and just relax and read a good story where death is not the central theme?

Interviewer: I write #mysteries, you know the usual mayhem and #murder, but you’re right. There are times it is nice to sit down with a book that  centers around things other than death and killing, and sex, which often confused with love both in real life and in novels.

Tell me, Ruby, who is your favorite character, and why?

Ruby Standing Deer: Bright Sun Flower and Feather Floating In Water–who becomes known as Shining Light– are two characters who remind me of myself. I am the grandmother and the grandson put in one body. I may not have the powerful dream visions they do, but I do experience dreams, and I listen to the Spirits when they speak.

Bright Sun Flower loves life and so does her grandson. They see so much more than others do by just opening up. She is a teacher, and a guide. Throughout the story she tries to pass on her knowledge to the next generation. Like Bright Sun Flower, I also have dedicated my life to passing on knowledge.

In my books, I try to provide something that many #kids today are without: a connection to #tradition. Unfortunately, most kids spend a lot of time in day care centers and other care centers because both of their parents must work. Grandparents, unlike the old days, are often too far away to interact with the kids, even if they aren’t working out-of-the-home jobs. Consequently, the kids lose that connection to the past, to their own traditions. 

Once kids learned from their grandparents and their parents about sacred things, about everyday ways of looking at the world, about how to value and respect all living things. Times have changed and kids are no longer given that. In my books, I show how it once was and hope that some of the teachings that Feather and Bright Sun Flower share will reach across the pages and touch the kids.

Feather is full of energy, curiosity, and has a lust for life. He has to grow up much faster than a child should. He and I share this, as we also share Feather’s curiosity about life. And, heh, maybe we share his mouth, too.

Interviewer: You have published CIRCLES and the second book of the series, Spirals.  Are you currently working on a third book in this series?  If so, can you give us a “back cover blurb” about it and when you expect it to be released?

Ruby Standing Deer: I am two-thirds finished with STONES, the third book. Part of my childhood was spent on the back of a horse. It was there that I learned what true freedom really meant. STONES became much more than a book for me after reading about a man who raced to the wild horse auction, not to get the best horses for his ranch, but to get the best for the slaughter house. Each fall there are many roundups of these magnificent, beautiful, Sacred animals. Many are pregnant and give birth in the holding pens. Their foals die. The slaughter men call the horses and their young a waste of space.

Interviewer: Wow, that’s sad. It’s my understanding that many of these #wildhorses are grazing on public lands that have been leased for extremely low rates to large ranchers and that is where some of the conflict comes in: the ranchers don’t want the wild horses, a part of America’s heritage, to eat the food from the public lands. They want the grass for their cattle and their horses which then increases their profits.

So, STONES illuminates the slaughter of #wildhorses. What’s the rest of the story?

Ruby Standing DeerSTONES is about more than rescuing mustangs from a band who tracks them down for the hairy-faces (what they call whites in the story). The Hairy-faces don’t want Native People to acquire mustangs as it would increase their ability to resist the influx of the whites.

This story is about the journey of two young people, Singing Stone and Dove, both of whom are following sacred tradition.  Singing Stone is protecting a small herd of  mustangs from the Likes To Fight People and the Hairy-faces (whites so named because of the hair on the men’s faces.)

Far away in the Land of Tall Trees, Dove, the daughter of the Holy Man, Shining Light, dreams of the mustang boy. Through visions, she is told that she must go to Singing Stone and help him protect the #mustangs. Another dream tells her she must hurry for danger is closing in on the mustangs.

Interviewer: Will this third book complete the series, or will it run longer?

Ruby Standing Deer: I am not sure if there will be a fourth book. It depends on where I am led. I listen to my dreams, take long walks with my dogs and set my mind free. It is those times I ‘see’ what to do next.

Interviewer: How did you find your publisher? Did you query a lot of publishers, or find one right away?

Ruby Standing Deer: My editor/publisher, and I were in a writing group together a long time ago. The writing group, we both learned, was a scam. You bought ‘tokens’ from the site’s creators. Then, you took the tokens and bid on people in auctions to have them review your chapter. Unfortunately, except my editor/publisher, there was not one writer in the group.

Interviewer: What piece of advice would you give to new writers about working with a publisher?

Ruby Standing Deer: Find one who will listen to you, not tell you what he/she wants. Indie publishers are more likely to work with you, listen to you and then advise you.

Visit Ruby’s website at:    http://www.rubystandingdeer.com

Connect with Ruby on Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/ruby.deer

http://www.amazon.com/Circles-ebook/dp/B006TIE72E/

http://www.amazon.com/Spirals-ebook/dp/B00AGO0UOQ/

Interview with Allison Bruning, Author/Publisher

Today I have the great pleasure of interviewing Allison Bruning. I read Ms. Bruning’s book, Calico: Children of the Shawnee. I enjoy some history with my fiction, so I was impressed with the satisfying, complex read. Once I began reading, I was loathe to put it down.

CalicoNEW!!!
http://amzn.to/10zqHta

“What inspired you to write Calico when you’re not even Native American descent?”

I cannot tell you how many times I get this question. To tell you the truth I absolutely love it, too. Growing up in Ohio I was bombarded with funny names such as Chillicothe, Wapakoneta, Mohican, and Cincinnati. The memorials of the Native American tribes who had once inhabited Ohio were in the names of our towns, camps (I went to Camp Wakatomika as a youth), and streets. Although, as far as I know, my family has no Native American heritage I was often drawn to the history and culture of these people. Calico has been in the market for two years now. It’s drawn a lot of attention from Native Americans. Most Native Americans that I meet are shocked to learn that I do not have any native blood in me. I have been adopted by a Delaware woman who tells me I am more of a sister to her than her own sister and a Creek shaman who thinks of me like his granddaughter. I am a good friend with a Navajo medicine woman and her family. All of the natives who meet me tell me that my heart bleeds red but my skin is white. I hold a Native American healer’s spirit in me although I walk this life as a white woman. I am very honored by the First Nations to think of me as one of their own.

When I was a child I was taught that the Shawnee were vicious people who murdered white men and raped their women. As I grew older I began to realize just how one sided the American history books are when it comes to dealing with Native American history, especially in the media. We often see the Shawnee in movies, television shows and books portrayed as bloodthirsty savages bent on raping women and killing men. It dehumanizes them. American history teaches us that the British and latter Americans were rescuing women and children from the Shawnee. They’d raze their settlements, rescue the poor white damsel in distress then off they go back to civilization with the female where she’s joyfully reunited with her family. The End! Isn’t that a nice fairytale? The savages are defeated and our hero saves the day.

But did you know that many of the women who had been “rescued” by the British or Americans actually ran right back to their captors? Why would these women go back to the natives who had captured them? Was it some sort of Stockholm syndrome? No, the white women of the 18th century often times left for their captors because they had more freedom in a native village than in a European colony.

This thinking goes against what we have been taught about the native population. On the contrary, a woman was valued more in native cultures than a man. When she was traveling with a man she would carry their belongings and be behind him. Why? So she would be protected! Think about it. The Shawnee were at war with the white man for a long time. He couldn’t carry his belongings and be prepared to fight should they be attacked. It was his duty to protect the women, children and elders.

In camp, the women were in charge of the fields and housework while her husband was laying around. Why was the man so lazy? He wasn’t. He was often hunting, fishing and protecting the village. Sometimes a man needs his rest but don’t think he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. In a moment’s notice, he would be able to defend his wife and family should the village be attacked.

“Allison, why didn’t the Shawnee men ever look at their wives when a white man was around?”

Would you want your enemy to know which women meant the most to you? He ignored her to protect her. You never know just how far someone would go to hurt another. Another thing to think about. If the Shawnee did not value their women then why did their laws insist anyone who hurts a woman receive double the punishment than if they had hurt a man?

When I wrote Calico’s character I had decided to make her the daughter of a French Fur Trapper. Why? Because I wanted to show my readers the truth. The British were so hell bent on saving every single white woman from the native population they never took time to consider whether or not the woman was actually British. As long as someone looked white the British would retrieve her. The problem with this is that not all white women were actually British. Some of them were the daughters of French traders who had married into the population. A French woman would marry into the tribe to secure a tighter trade relationship between her father and the native population.

If, in the event, a European woman was ever captured she would walk the gauntlet and then be adopted into a native family. Why? To replace the dead wife or child of a native person. Men on the other hand were often considered a threat. The natives knew if a man was adopted he might cause more harm then good. It was all about survival. I wanted my readers to understand these points through the eyes of a female who lived with the Shawnee.

Before I wrote Calico I had read a book called “Follow the River” by James Alexander Thom. I had watched the movie with my husband. While it was a good attempt to show a different side of the story, that is to honor the Shawnee, I felt it was lacking a lot. I decided to write Calico to fill in the cultural gaps this book left.

An interesting thing to think about is this as well. The natives were not the only ones who were kidnapping women and children. The British did so in order to provide labor for their slave market. The native populations didn’t just attack a British village for kicks, they often times did so in order to free those who had been captured by the British.

AUTHOR BIO:
Allison Bruning has had a passion for writing since childhood. She originally hails from Marion, Ohio, but lives in Louisville, Kentucky, with her husband and their Australian Cattle Dog, Lakota Sioux.

Her father, Roland Irving Bruning, was the son of German immigrants who came to the United States at the turn of the 20th century. Her mother’s family had immigrated from Scotland, Ireland and England during the 17th century.

Allison is a member of the Daughters of American Revolution, tracing her linage to Private Rueben, Messenger of Connecticut. She enjoys family stories, history and genealogy.

Her educational background includes a BA in Theatre Arts with a minor in Anthropology and a Texas Elementary Teaching certificate. Both were acquired at Sul Ross State University in Alpine, Texas. Allison received National Honor Society memberships in both Theatre Arts and Communication. She was also honored her sophomore year with admission into the All American Scholars register. She holds graduate hours in Cultural Anthropology and Education. In 2007, Allison was named Who’s Who Among America’s Educators. She is also the recipient of the Girl Scout Silver and Gold Awards. Allison will receive her Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing at Full Sail University on June 28, 2013.

Her books, Reflections: Poems and Essays and Calico: Children of the Shawnee (Book 1), are published by Mountain Springs House.

She is currently working on Passions Awakenings, book one of a high fantasy erotica series titled Draconian Corazon that will be released this summer. She is also working on a historical fiction series known as The Secret Heritage that takes place in early 20th century Ohio. Elsa, book one of the series, will be released in the fall.

Allison’s interests include Ohio Valley history, anthropology, travel, culture, history, camping, hiking, backpacking, spending time with her family, and genealogy.
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She can be found on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AllisonBruning.
She is also on twitter @emeraldkell.
Her blog can be found at http://allisonbruning.blogspot.com.
Her author page on Goodreads is http://www.goodreads.com/emeraldkell
Her Amazon author page may be found at http://amzn.to/LZ0UsT