Brandy Nacole

Let me share some wisdom with you. There is evil in this world we cannot see, not because it is hidden from us, but because our minds refuse to accept its existence. But once we are able to get past what everyone says should not be, it becomes our responsibility to stop the evil we now see.

This insight wasn’t given to me until a year after I lost the most important person in my life: Bryce Rowan. Now, after another death at the same spot where he died—the overlook, where the mysterious lights dance amongst the trees—I begin to wonder if they were accidents after all.

Lucky for me, I’m not the only curious one in town. Cooper, a ghost hunter (aka chaser), and his sister Jada have moved to town and are starting to ask questions.

But the more we find out about this town and the people who live here, people who I have known my whole life, the more I begin to think there are those who would rather keep the evil secret, even if it means we will never be safe, and that more will die


July 11, 1972  

Once again I’ve fallen prey to MaryAnn’s pleading, and I follow her out the window, my stomach churning with dread, a contrast to her excitement. I don’t know why I let her talk me into these things. She’s always getting us into trouble, has been since we were little. Yet, here I am, still following her after seven years of mistake after mistake. There’s something about her I can’t say no to. I’ve always thought of her as my sister, not my cousin, and considering we were born only two days apart, we are more like sisters—look like it too. But still, even sisters tell each other no every once in a while. Not me. This time though, I should have.
Our tiny flashlights give off little light in the dark forest, mine unsteady as it shakes in my hand. Thorns scrape at my skin and I look back, hoping to see a light in the cabin on and my grandfather coming out to see where us girls have run off to. No such luck. The small, two-bedroom cedar cabin is dark, its frame nothing but an outline against the trees around it.
“I think we should go back,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Will you quit whining, Ester? This is no different than walking through the woods during the daylight.”
I beg to differ. During the day, the green leaves look welcoming, not over-powering and creepy like now. I don’t feel trapped and afraid when walking these familiar woods when the sun is shining bright, but now I do.
“But, MaryAnn, grandpa said—”
“He was just trying to scare you,” she hisses, as she shines her light on a raccoon scavenging for food. It rushes off to hide from what he perceives as danger and we continue on through the thicket.
No matter what MaryAnn says, I know she’s wrong. I saw the fear in our grandfather’s eyes as he told us the story of the thing that haunts these woods. MaryAnn had been enthralled as she sat by the fire, her eyes bright, her body unmoving as she absorbed every word. I had been terrified. Our grandfather has never been a skeptical man, always saying rumors and legends are nonsense. “What you don’t see with your eyes, don’t witness with your mouth.” So to see the fear in his eyes as he witnessed the story he told us tonight is enough to convince me he was telling the truth, and not just some tale to scare his grandchildren.
An owl hoots overhead and a chill slowly creeps up my back, making me shiver.
“I think we should wait. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
MaryAnn ignores my pleas, knowing I won’t go back alone.
The leaves rustle as a slight wind picks up. I can no longer see the outline of the cabin. I don’t know if it’s from my fear, but our lights seem to grow dimmer, making the darkness feel as if it is weighing down on us.
A small clearing comes into view, with timber laying hazardously along the ground.  
“We are almost there,” MaryAnn whispers. “This is where grandpa and his workers have been logging close to the overlook.”
Good. Once we reach the overlook and she sees it is the same during the night as it is during the day, we can go back to the safety of the cabin. I can already feel the relief of being back under my blankets, eagerly waiting for morning, with the fresh smell of biscuits baking in the oven and bacon frying in the pan filling the air.
“What was that?” I ask, panicked, and spin around in a circle, my flashlight shaking with more force.
“Ester, please stop this nonsense. I’m sure it was nothing.”
Once on the other side of the clearing, we start the mile hike up the incline and once again I wish we had stuck to the main road instead of taking the shorter path through the woods. The ground is slick from the rain we had yesterday, and with every step I take, I lose two as I slide back down.
MaryAnn grabs my hand, steadying me, as we both use our weight to climb the impossible hill.
“Did you hear that?” she asks, her voice a bit higher than before.
I close my eyes, my stomach tensing. She better not be playing any games with me. I will rat her out in a heartbeat if she is.
“Yes. What do you think it is?”
Before she can answer, a strange mist builds in front of us. I examine it closely and point it out to MaryAnn, but before it takes on a shape, it’s gone.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
A strong wind spins around us, and not caring about what MaryAnn thinks, I let go of her hand and tumble back down the hill, scared for my life. My feet are unsteady as the land levels out again and I fall over a log. Seconds later, MaryAnn lands on top of me.
“Come on!” she screams, terror in her voice. “We have to get back to the cabin.”
“What did you see?” I demand, as I race after her, dodging fallen limbs. But she doesn’t answer. She keeps running, looking back to make sure that I am close behind her.
A strong force comes from behind me and I’m shoved into MaryAnn’s back, making us both lose our footing.
Tears pour down my face as we scramble to our feet, our flashlights lost in the darkness. We try our hardest to run through the darkness with no light to guide our way. MaryAnn grabs my hand, our sweaty fingers clinging as tightly as they can while we try to make out where we are.
When MaryAnn screams, her body jerked away from me, I feel as if I can’t breathe. Something is trying to take her from me. My grip on her hand tightens, my small twelve year old frame pulling as hard as possible against whatever is trying to tug her away.
A movement behind her catches my eye as we struggle, but I can’t make out who or what it is. It’s shrouded in a black cloak, practically invisible under the blanket of night. I do make out the grey mist behind it, as if it’s drifting and waiting for its prey.
My heart thrums, feeling as if it’s trying to escape out of my chest, and my throat grows tight as I choke on my tears. MaryAnn screams, begging me not to let go of her, as our fingers begin to slip.
Why can no one hear us? We have to be close to the cabin.
A sharp pain explodes in the back of my head, and I pitch forward, disoriented. My legs slip out from beneath me, and I can feel myself losing consciousness. MaryAnn’s fingers slip out of mine as I land against the damp leaves on the ground. The last thing I hear is her pleading for me to save her.


Review of It Second Chances by Jackie Mae

"If . . . . Second Chance"
Jackie Mae

Shona Forrester owns a small hair salon. The happiest period of her life was a short lived 8 months. This was before her boyfriend Rick burnt bridges with her family and her lack of emergency money. The day her life changed, so she thought, was when she bought a winning lottery ticket. Shona did all she could to be kind as friends came out of the woodwork. One afternoon she stops in to get her palm read. . .the news was troubling and what happens in the next 24 hours is life changing.

Jackie Mae does her best to write a novelette that shows that life is beautiful and to make the most of what life hands you. This is a powerful read and one that will make you stop and think . . . what if . . . . what if I was giving 24 hours to live. Did I make good choices ?? Did I right all my wrongs ?? IF I was giving a second chance what would I do differently ???

5 shinning stars

Review of Fugly by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


Lilly has just graduated and wants to join the work force in her dream job. She has interned with the best and graduated top of her class. Going into an interview for a spot in a cosmetics company has made her nervous, but she knows it is how she will attain her dream of a new cosmetics company of her own. To bad the minute the owner of the company sees her, she knows the interview is over. He sees her as fugly. Never been considered pretty or attractive and has been called plenty of names over the years is devastating. It hurt because she just wanted to be judged on her qualifications, which she new she was overqualified for. When the verbal sparing begins both Lilly and Max (owner of company) may be in for more than they had ever expected.

When I saw the title of this book, I knew I had to check it out. I'm a fan already and have kept tabs and on her many books, I've enjoyed many.  But as I laughed and read this very awesome book, I really enjoyed the message it conveys. We all know what is on the inside, is what is important but it is a lesson that is hard to do as a rule in life, for most people. Most, do have preconceived notions of people we pass o the street or judge someone on a glance, good or bad. This book was not only HOT and entertaining but also made you think.  A story of two people both with ugly qualities start to change on the inside because of their relationship. Two people becoming better people than they could be by themselves, makes for a wonderful romance. AWESOME read...Highly recommend.  Thanks for the great few hours of entertainment.

5 wonderful stars!!
Julie Ramsey


Review of Dark Ghost by Christine Feehan

Dark Ghost

As the warriors age through the hundreds of years, they slowing get pulled closer and closer to the evil of the vampires. Andre has been around a long time. He knows he will not be able to hold out against the darkness inside for much longer. He will either join the others in the monastery or go and wait for the sunrise and die. Either way he will take as many vampires down with him that he can.

Teagan needs to find a stone. Her grandmother is sick and she has a way with the earth. She knows if she finds this particular stone, she will be able to help her grandma. When she asks a friend she went to school with to help her through the Carpathian mountains, she doesn't realize the friend has less than honorable intentions. Running for her life she stumbles upon a cave and something else that will change everything she has ever believed or could have ever dreamed of.

The Dark series has always been some of my favorites. This one was one I thoroughly enjoyed. The love scenes are great! Sexy, HOT and drool worthy. Loved the connection between the Teagan and Andre. One of the sexiest Dark ones I have read in a long time. Thanks for the great read.

5 stars
Julie Ramsey

Review of Wolf's Song by V.L. Brown

Wolf's Song

     Aria is running for her life. Waking up to one friend dead and 2 others changed, made for one bad day.  She finally finds a place to rest and hide where she thinks no one will find her.

     Wraithe is part of a elite military group that was changed. Turned into shifters has given them even more strength, stealth and speed. The group is just coming to terms with being shifters and part of a paranormal world. Now Wraithe has found a new part of himself that may change the entire group and their mission as a whole.

    As Aria and Wraithe find each other and learn about their new situations, they also find a danger that will change the world. Will the team be able to come together and win the war? Will all the changes be too much? Will they be strong enough to fight the coming evil?

This was a pretty cool premise. A combination of military romance with a paranormal romance. Good love scenes, great premise, story was creative. A unique twist on a werewolf story. I am interested in seeing where she goes with the story in the coming books. I liked the warrior component in the story but at times I would have liked to feel more love between the both Aria and Wraithe. Over all a very good story and a author to keep an eye on. Thanks for the awesome read.

4 stars
Julie Ramsey 

Review of Whistler Shifter Law book 1 by Wynter Storm


       The world is a different place. Shifters have come to Earth. Unable to breed with other shifters but able to be with humans, make finding a mate a challenge. Clarie a half shifter/human has a special gift. She is able to find mates. By touching one person, if she has met their mate, she sees who they are ultimately looking for. When Whistler, a shifter, comes to Clairie she sees someone who she knows will be a challenge. Can Whistler handle this challenge or will he be lost without his mate?

  This is a post-apocalyptic story with a sci-fi twist. It is fast easy read. A adult book with some pretty hot sex scenes. The only thing I didn't care for was the main girl went from a virgin to a threesome in one chapter. Makes for a hot read but a little quick. A well written book and an author well worth following. Would defiantly read more form this author.

4 stars
Julie Ramsey


Review of The Runaway Couple by Maggie Tideswell

The Runaway Couple

    Piper is the Maid of Honor for her sister. Arriving at the event she is shocked that the Best Man is Marcus. Marcus a long friend of the family who has always teased and made fun of Piper. Piper holds a lot of animosity for Marcus but also a secret crush. With her sisters wedding looming and the stress of Marcus, will Piper be able to hold it together or will someone be there to hold her.

This is a short book, easy to read in one sitting. It is the story of Piper at her sister wedding. I don't want to give to much away but there are secret crushes, romance, sex, and even a ghost. It is cute and an easy read and very well written. I liked the over all story but I didn't like the fact I felt Piper being almost fearful( of being embarrassed) and upset by the one person who is suppose to love her. I love Maggie's style of writing and the sex scenes where pretty damn hot! Over all a very nice read and would recommend this author to anyone.

Julie Ramsey 

Review of Hollowland by Amanda Hocking

Hollowland by Amanda Hocking

Remy King will do just about anything to make it across America to find her little brother, Max,
he is the only family member that she has left. And is that includes losing beloved friends, rescuing a
lion, falling in love with a rock star, and killing dozens of zombies. The zombie apocalypse is here, but it’s not as you might expect it. The outbreak was caused by the Lyssa virus genotype 8 that had mutated from rabies, and one of the side effects is uncontrollable hunger to eat everything in sight, including human flesh. Remy is on a journey to find and save her brother, but she doesn’t know where he is. She is being accompanied by a girl that looks up to her (Harlow), a circus lion (Ripley), a former rock star (Lazlo), and an almost doctor (Blue). They set out to find safety and to assist Remy in her mission. Remy reveals that her brother is immune to the Lyssa virus, and worries about what might happen to him because of his immunity. They face hordes of zombies, safe houses, unsafe houses, and help out other survivors along the way.

Going into this book I didn’t know what genre it was or what it was going to be about, and I have
to say that I absolutely loved this book. I have reads several works of Amanda Hocking before, but I think that Hollowland takes the cake. This entire book just sucked me into a black hole filled with the wonders of a zombie apocalypse. The characters were so well written, I loved all their different personalities. Remy is an awesome person, she can kill a zombie with her bare hands and save peoples’ lives. But, she beats herself up when she can’t save everyone. Harlow is hands down the cutest zombie slayer ever. She fights zombies in a cute skirt and combat boots. Lazlo was a famous rock star before the outbreak, and you can see the spoiled kid child come out in his demeanor. Blue was going to medical school before the outbreak. I felt as though he was pushed aside as a minor character, I think his character had some potential.

Overall I thought this was an amazing book. I gave it four out of five stars for the fact that I
didn’t enjoy the way the book ended. I thought a bigger cliff hanger could have been put there. But, I
will definitely be excited to read the next book in the series.

High School Reviewer

A.M. Guilliams - Cover reveal

Beautifully Masked Synopsis:
Sophia Turner has the life people dream about. An amazing career, great friends, and two adorable godsons. She’s turned her life in the direction that she’s felt it was always meant to go, away from the life she one led. Everything was perfect in her eyes.
Until one night changed it all.
Jeremiah Stewart has lived life on the edge since tragedy struck him at a young age. He pushes the odds every time he goes into a burning building for reasons he won’t divulge. He was perfectly content remaining a recluse.
Until she changed it all.
Jeremiah and Sophia made a vow to only ever be friends. A vow that was broken in the blink of an eye. An arrangement was the resolution, but for how long, neither wanted to know.

Will Jeremiah and Sophia be able to stick to only an arrangement? Or will one of them want more, causing their friendship to go up in a blazing inferno and allowing them to both live Beautifully Masked.  

William Snyder Day 5

William Snyder's life travels have taken him to Europe, Ireland, South America, Mexico and

most of the USA. He has lived in Philadelphia, Dallas, Atlanta, San Francisco, Oakland, Los

Angeles, and Merida, MX. He currently resides in Denver, CO searching for the spirit of Saturday

night with Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady. Prior to becoming a writer he has been a teacher,

consultant, manager, technician and business owner dealing with application software and

computer technology. His writings have been published by Merida English Library,Queen City

Crier, Inotherwordsmerida.Com, The Merida Review, Merida’s Night Writer, The Yucatan Times,

GE Magazine, and Knowledgeware Users Conference. He is the father of 2 sons and grandfather

of 2 granddaughters.

Songs of Icarus

Buy it here:
or here


Review of Inconsistent by Alex Akre

Alex Akre

Lately I've been in several conversations discussing the lack of sensitivity of
today's youth. Alex Akre's first novel indicates that some of those
conversations need to be re-visited. When I received the book it was
described as a Young Adult / Coming of Age novel. After reading it I'm not
sure what genre it fits so I'd like to suggest a new one - Poetic Dream Rant.
Macy is a teenage girl living with an abusive father. Her mother can't break
the chains from the beast so Macy runs away and becomes Meadow "a
promise of greener pastures." Meadow and Macy are polar opposites on the
conformity spectrum. Meadow looks back at Macy as one of the girls in her
old high school who are all about starring on social media, having the right
boyfriend and bullying the girls who don't quite live up to the standards
they've set.

When Meadow goes to a new high school she breaks free from conformity.
The first thing she does is befriend Dante, a gay drug dealer. They live
together with Liam, Dante's boyfriend, in a motel room financed by drug
deals and Liam's family. The moralist might raise an eyebrow, but these kids
want to make a better world than what is being left to them. Teenagers on a
journey reminiscent of Kerouac's "On the Road" they befriend the homeless
in reaction to the hard-boiled ignorance of the adult world that doesn't
consider the humanity of the downtrodden.
Meadow falls in love with her classmate Richmond and the trio becomes a
quartet but the music is flawed. Richmond can't handle the truth as Meadow
and her friends define it. When the trio gets back together their harmony is
impossible to recapture.

The writing in this book is awesome for the most part. It is even more
awesome that Ms. Aker wrote this novel at the age of 16. It is not an easy
read (Aker admits to breaking some rules and rambling) but her insights are
profound and based on grown-up perceptions rare enough for adults, much
less adolescents.
As a writer I envy Alex Aker's talent. As a reviewer I welcome a potential
superstar to the literary world.

5+ Stars
Bill Snyder

Review of The Education of Joey G by Gus Kearney

Review of The Education of Joey G
by Gus Kearney

There's a new kid in the literary neighborhood by the name of Joey Garden. First-time
novelist Gus Kearney has nailed Joey's narrative voice as he passes through the ages of six,
eleven, fourteen and seventeen...echoes of Holden Caulfield. Joey G's use of language and
out-of-the-mainstream thinking as he travels the byways and highways of Lansdowne,
Pennsylvania (an important real place in Joey's journey to adulthood) in the late 50's and
early 60's are laugh-out-loud funny or profound depending on the moment.
Coming of age novels usually deal with the search for identity and Mr. Kearney's book is
no exception. In fact, Joey's search for identity romps and roams through boyhood
adventures in the woods, neighborhood gang fights, adolescent sexual confusion, high
school basketball team psychology, the young intellectual's struggle with the teenage herd
mentality and social class conflicts. Kearney mixes compassion, humor, family secrets,
hypocrisy and friendship into a feel-good fast-paced story.
If you lived "back in the day" or want to share the feelings of those that did, this book's
portrait of a youth's struggles with self-doubt to learn who he is and where he belongs is
the real thing. Kearney's novel captures the bittersweet moments of coming of age along
with politics' and sport's moments of agony and defeat.

5 stars
Bill Snyder  

The book can be bought here...http://www.amazon.com/The-Education-Joey-Gus-

Review of The Pendant Trilogy by Sarena and Sasha Nanua

The Pendant Trilogy

Sarena and Sasha Nanua

The Gemstone
Copyright 2013 (revised 2014)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-1161-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-1162-6 (e)

The King’s Jewel
Copyright 2013
ISBN: 978-1-4759-9879-5 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4759-9880-1 (ebk)

The Poisoned Emerald
Copyright 2014
ISBN: 978-1-4917-4663-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4917-4664-6 (e)
Bloomington, IN


The Pendant Trilogy consists of The Gemstone, The King’s Jewel, and The Poisoned Emerald.  This is a remarkable series because it is written by teenaged twins who, according to the bio on Amazon, attend high school in Ontario.  They should be commended for following their love of reading and writing by publishing a book for other teenagers.
The Gemstone begins with the main character, Arica attending a new private school along with her cousins Janine, Jessica and Joseph.  All three possess inherited magical gifts, but only Arica is completely clueless about her magical heritage; her magical background having been concealed by her mother who was intent on protecting her from the dangers of magic.  Faced with a headmistress with malevolent intent, and roommates and other peers who may be either friends or foes, Arica and her cousins must survive while protecting heirloom magical gemstone necklaces from theft.  During these trials, Arica, who is otherwise a clueless ninth-grader, reluctantly rises to a leadership role and with the help of her cousins and others who become allies slowly learns the truth of her magical inheritance.  The same malevolent forces fought by Arica, her cousins and her friends in The Gemstone persist in different threatening forms and hideous activities in The King’s Jewels and The Poisoned Emerald.  The authors have left plenty of opportunity to expand the trilogy into multiple volumes.
Written by peers, this is a fine fantasy selection for middle-school and lower high school students.  The plot is a simple straight-forward good-v-evil scenario which is sufficiently imaginative to provide good entertainment.  While some of the characters and situations may seem elementary or somewhat implausible to adult readers, it should be remembered that these books were not written for adults.  The descriptions of objects and locations are rich and detailed; often entertaining in and of themselves.  The choice of words and dialog are simple, but seem stilted and awkward, not at all how I would expect ninth-graders to talk in America; however, the authors are Canadian, and the main characters have recently moved from England to Canada to attend a new school, therefore, a British influence accents the dialog.
Overall, I feel The Pendant Trilogy is a great start toward a writing career for the authors, Sarena and Sasha Nanua, and an entertaining fantasy selection for middle-school aged students…perhaps a good Halloween read.  Clabe Polk

William Snyder Day 4

                                            PART 3

                                               Weird dream…dream dream dream.
Girl soldier no gun faded away. Old man teachin’ ball. Girl came back. Book in one hand picture in the other.
                                            I said…Guantanamera? She said…with a song in my heart. 

                                                     Disappeared…gone with the wind.

                                            Still dark. Not rainin.’ Sun’s not up…stormy weather?.

Never golfed. Caddied. Never got out. Waited couple times. Only wanted certain guys old guys same                                                               ones every day...every day.

                                                             Keeps raining all the time.

     A pair of black and white saddle golf shoes lay by the bed. Jim put them on. Clattering onto two steps of the circular stairwell but before tumbling down the rest, he went back into the bedroom and put on sneakers.
     “I heard your first attempt; wouldn’t recommend walking down those steps in golf shoes unless you’re trying to break a leg. I couldn’t sleep. Want some?” Nick offered a cup of coffee.
     “No thanks. No coffee for me I’m keyed up enough. Never played golf; never met Bill Evans.” Jim opened the fridge.
     “He’s an easy guy to get along with.”
     “You eat?” Jim poured orange juice.
     “Figured we’d eat at the clubhouse. They serve a decent breakfast. I’m buyin’.”
     “Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.” Jim drained the orange juice.
     “No rush. Bill won’t be there till 10. We’re supposed to tee off at 11. I got us a tee time but I don’t think we’ll need one.”

The Granada Golf Course harbored nine tree-lined fairways between the two major thoroughfares of Coral Gables. The sun was rising over the first tee when Nick and Jim ordered breakfast sitting at a green Formica counter in the club house restaurant. When they finished eating Nick paid the green fees.
     “I’ll give you a few pointers. We can play a couple of holes before Bill gets here. The beginning of golf is how you hold the club. Some guys try a baseball grip because they’re used to it from baseball. I’ll teach you the interlocking grip and you can decide for yourself. Wrap your little finger around your index finger. There’s less chance the club will slide making your swing more consistent. Don’t try to kill it just swing easy there’s a rhythm to it that you can feel when you hit it right. Now just try swinging the club without hitting the ball. Deep
breath then relax.” Nick stepped back giving Jim space for some practice swings on the first tee.
“Feels kinda like foul shots.”
“Feel the rhythm of going back and forth. Your head will get in the way though when there’s a ball down there.”
“Same with foul shooting. It’s easy in practice but in games you get tense.”
“There’s nobody out yet. We can play the 5th hole. C’mon.” Nick picked up the clubs and crossed Granada Boulevard giving Jim two tips – descending stroke with irons, upstroke with woods. The 5th tee was 220+ yards from a green with the pin in the back sandwiched between two sand traps. Nick’s drive landed on thefront half of the green. “Wrap your fingers around the ball lightly. Don’t squeeze it. Put the tee in ground untilyou feel the ground touching the knuckle of your middle finger.”
Jim took a deep breath before starting his backswing and smoothly brought the club back to the ball
feeling the crush of balata before the ball streaked into a smear of white clouds where he lost sight of it.
“Good hit. You’re a fucking natural, no more lessons for you. Tough break.”
“Never saw it.” Jim had no idea where the ball went once it was in the clouds.
“No draw, no fade you hit it right where you were pointed. It went in the trap on the right of the green. Two twenty on the fly with your first swing. You outhit me, motherfucker.” Nick picked up his golf bag laughing to himself.

“Etiquette of the game is the guy furthest from the hole hits first. That’s me.” Nick’s putt stopped 2 feet from the hole.
“Thanks. When you’re in sand you want the club to dig in the sand just behind the ball and explode it from the trap. Before you hit make sure you know how hard to hit it. It’s about touch and feel – like playing the piano. Some people like to practice lobbing a ball with their hand to the hole to get a feel for how hard to hit the shot.” Nick demonstrated an imaginary ball toss.
Jim took a ball from his pocket, underhanded it to the hole and placed his sand wedge in the sand behind the ball.
“Can’t do that. It’s a penalty stroke for touching the sand with your club before you hit the ball.”
“Why? What’s that about?”
“So you don’t take unfair advantage and smooth out the sand before playing the shot. Lots of rules. It’s a gentleman’s game.”
“Pretty fuckin’ finicky. I’m used to shoveling snow off the courts to play ball in Philly this time of the year.
No gentlemen in those games.”
Jim was hesitatant over the ball careful not to let the club head touch the sand. Bringing the club head back into the ball he realized he was swinging too hard, slowed down his swing stopping just as he hit the ball.
The ball popped up from the sand about knee high and came to rest in the trap three feet closer to the hole than before. On his next try he swung harder skulling the top half of the ball so it skittered out of the sand and caromed across the green into the trap on the other side. Four strokes later the ball was safely on the green and it took another four before Jim tapped it into the hole and they walked back to the club house.
“You’ve had your first lesson.”
“In learning the blues. Not my first, Marita told me about saudade then she left. You and she are good teachers.”
“That’s what women do most often - leave. You have a nice swing. Just stay out of the sand. Hey man, how you doing?” Nick broke into a grin, raising his voice to a tall good-looking man. Bespectacled and stoop-shouldered in khakis and a light blue shirt Bill Evans was standing by the cash register in the pro shop.
“Gotta go.” Evans took leave of two middle-aged men at the counter. “Did you know there’s a Boy Scout lodge on this course?”
“Yeah, the George Merrick Lodge. Bill, meet Jim Collins - he’s staying with me at the house. We played a little before you got here.”
“Not fair, you have a head start. Nice to meet you.” Bill shook Jim’s hand. Jim strained at the incongruous;
Evans’ voice was barely a whisper mixed with the hard edges of New York City and North Jersey.
“I dig your latest album, Mister Evans.”
“Call me Bill, Jim. I guess they did get the title right; everybody digs me. I took a lot of heat from Miles for that cover.” Evans snickered. “I got a letter from Gene Lees said the music sounded like love letters to the world from the prison of the heart. Next album I think I’ll ask him for a title.”
“Who’s Gene Lees?”
“The editor of Downbeat. I was just kidding, glad you like it. Got my degree in sardonics working with Miles.”
“Jim, get me a pack of smokes will you?” Nick tossed him a quarter. Jim jogged back to the clubhouse
“Kid’s kind of lost. Trying to help him until he figures out what to do next. Problems at home so he ran away. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Who does? I sure didn’t when I was his age. Jazz piano made the decision for me.”


William Snyder Day 3

Part 2

                                                 Automat. Getta tray get in line.
                                                              Chain gang.
                                                 Came after me. Won’t be murder.
                          Feed money. Open door. Take out pie. Coffee’s always hot. Let it cool.
                                                     Same lady. White uniform. Hair net.
Empty table.Window. Pretty woman. Gold hat.Green coat. Fur collar.Everybody boozed up. She’s not.
                                                          Gotta run away runaway.
                                   Love raisin pie. Sip. Jesus!!! Fuckin’ hot!!! Cool water.
                Nice threads. Loden coat. Button-down shirt. Sweater. Very cool. Very ivy. Peter Gunn.
 Clean glass. Push. Metal holder. Rubber stopper. How come? Glass can’t smash or have a VERY                                    bloody hand. Water’s pretty good. Wonder what they do to it?

                  Still there. Pretty. Looks lonely. Maybe divorced maybe dead husband. Had to get out.
                                       Know the routine put another nickel in the machine.
  Blew it like Pruitt. Old man told me how I should feel. Never told him I was gonna fly away. Come                                                           fly with me go to llama land.
                            Scared. Mom’s always scared. What he does. What he did. Scared both of us.
 No place to go. No money. Oughta be scared. Come on asshole! Where am I gonna go? What am I  gonna do?  Stay cool. Dean cool. Dean cool? Wasn't so fuckin' cool. Was cryin' screamin' at his old                                                                        man all the time.
                                                                The wayward wind.

The late-night customers of the Automat bent over their cups of coffee like a cast of characters from a film noir. Jim sat down by the window, watching the vapor of melting snow rising like sweat from the asphalt. He brushed the snow from his shoulders and dried his head with a napkin from a holder on the table.
“Looks like you’ve been walkin’ in the snow. Car trouble?” The well-dressed stranger straightened his blue Loden coat draped over the back of a chair. Jim noticed the long delicate fingers holding his fork. Stylish, Peter Gunn-thin, aquiline nose, swarthy skin, and deep-set brown eyes made him a strong candidate for a Brooks Brother model.
    “Nah. Just out partyin’.”
    “It’s a brave new world…the world of the inebriate.” The stranger arced a half circle with his arm after dishing chicken potpie from a brown casserole bowl onto a plate.
    “Well I’m not.” Jim wondered if the stranger was one of the inebriated.
    “Not what?”
    “Inebriated.” Jim shifted his gaze and cut into his raisin pie. The last thing he wanted was eye contact. He had a graduate degree in avoiding eye contact.
    “Sonny Rollins took a few nights off.”
    “Sax player.”
    “Yeah, I know who he is.” Jim reached in his pants pocket for a smoke before realizing they were in his jacket at home.
    “Sonny left the world of the inebriated. Stopped doing drugs, stopped playing gigs. He plays on a bridge in Brooklyn now so he won’t bother the neighbors. Not on nights like this though.”
    “I dig the album he made with the MJQ at The Music Inn.”
    “That’s a great album. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Know a little jazz, heh? Music Inn’s part of my story, morning glory. So is The School of Jazz. I was a student there last summer. Sonny came up for a week. Lotta great stuff goes on up there. Name’s Nick, Nick Rose.” The stranger motioned for Jim to join him.
    “Jim Collins. I didn’t know there were any jazz schools. Can I bum one?” He eyed the pack of Luckies by the ashtray.
    “Go ahead. School of Jazz is one of the first. Opened in ’57. You know the Salon d’Automne?” Peter Gunn’s doppelganger slid his lighter across the table.
    “Salon d’Automne? No.” Jim mumbled the French; not the way he’d been taught by the Belgian priest at Annunciation.
    “A place for innovative art in Paris. Matisse made a name for himself there. One of the Fauves.”
    “Matisse? Fauves? Got me on those two.”
    “Father of modern art. Him and Picasso. Matisse did some far out stuff, kind of like Charles Mingus. Took a beating from the critics but his use of color became a big part of modern art. Until Matisse came along painters had to paint the grass green and the sky had to be blue. He and Les Fauves used color to improvise like jazz musicians do. Like Birth of the Cool, and Time Out. Matisse painted weird colors for a face he called Woman with a Hat. Colors showed the feeling you can get looking at a face or at least the feeling Matisse got looking at his wife’s face. Same with another one he called Open Window Collioure. Lot of red, lot of blue, not colors you'd see looking out a window. Painting was all about the feeling of freedom you get from looking out a window. Matisse trusted his instincts like all great artists. You look at his stuff now it doesn’t look that far out, but when he first did it nobody painted like he did. Has a lot in common with jazz musicians. We like to experiment, play with ideas. Fauvism was no big thing to Matisse he didn’t come up with the name, the critics
did. No Fauvism no modern art - like no be-bop, no modern jazz. Matisse improvised with color, Picasso improvised with form kind of like Miles Davis and Bill Evans did on Kind of Blue.


William Snyder Day 2

Part 1

Half-court…00:05 no time…drive…PLUNK…can’t… stayin’ zone…00:03…pretty far…PLUNK…                 gotta take it…slow down…everybody yellin’…don’t listen…shut everything
                  blinded me can’t see…wanted more time…felt right…nice spin

                                                               …Johnny B. Goode!

The shooter’s yellow-flecked feline blue eyes widened as the ball slithered through the net and the
scoreboard read:

                          VISITOR 55                                                            HOME 56

The referee signaled the game was over and the Annunciation High School team sprang from the bench.

“Great shot.”
“Way to go.”
“I dig it, I dig it.”

   Clad in royal blue trimmed with white they ran from the court champions of the Philadelphia High School Holiday Basketball Festival. ‘Cool’ was king of the masquerade in 1959 and ‘cool’ was the raiment Jim Collins wore running off the court. In the locker room the team gathered in a tribal circle as Coach Chandler beckoned him to the center of the circle. Rubbing his close-cropped black hair, the coach shouted, “One helluva clutch shot, Jim. Big time play!”
   The team clapped their way into an open shower room where the hero of the moment suffered through the soapy blur of a hot shower as they doused him with cold water. Afterwards supine on the locker room bench, he remembered practicing game-winning shots in darkening playgrounds, unlit gyms, or under the streetlight outside his house. Nights and days putting it up-and-in for the feeling of making the numbers change with no time left. Minus Wallace Stevens’ peignoir, complacency wrapped him in reverie. Luxuriated in peacefulness he changed into khakis, a navy blue turtleneck, and a red Jim Stark jacket. Exiting the locker room, Chuck Berry’s Johnny B. Goode drifted from a car radio into the cold night air.
   A cream-and-sky-blue bullet-nosed Ford waited at the curb. The air in the car was warm and heavy, laden with the smell of burnt tobacco. His father, a big broad-shouldered man, hunched over the wheel and flicked a cigarette butt out the window.
   “I’m glad ya made that last one. When ya missed those fouls earlier I was sure ya were goin’ to be the goat. Ya had that number 7 in your hip pocket. Ya coulda done all night what ya did at the end.”
   Gerry Collins didn’t look at his son adopting a matter-of-fact tone that brooked no disagreement. He had played semi-pro basketball in church halls in the 30’s where the game was played in a cage to stop fans from fighting with players. At five years old he had Jim dribbling and shooting at a peach basket hung on the side of the cellar stairs. Gerry had no doubts his son would be the player he never was.
   “Yeah, I know. I should’na had to make that shot. We shoulda been way ahead by then.” He wanted a cigarette to soothe the nervousness that came on him whenever he talked to his father about what happened in the games he played.
   “Well, I’m glad you did make it. Won’t hurt for the Big 5 coaches to see it in the paper tomorrow.”
    “Hadn’t thought about that.” Jim didn’t hear the pride that resonated in his father’s voice and slid further down in his seat pleased with what Diane would read about the game.
   “Yer gonna save me a lotta money when ya get that scholarship. I never had the chance yer gonna have. They’ll be offerin’ more than tuition too. Maybe somethin’ like Chamberlain got for goin’ to Kansas. Everybody figured he was goin’ to Temple. But ya can never tell what a nigger’s gonna do. He just took the money and ran like all the other coons workin’ in the Catskills.”
“Nobody’s in his class. Never seen anybody like him. He just goes over everybody.” ‘Nigger’ and ‘coon’ felt like sandpaper rubbing an open wound. Jim turned to the empty street wishing his father hadn’t come to the game.

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William Snyder Day 1

Welcome William Snyder.  We are so glad to have you here on JBR.                                         
We are having a give away going on what item are you giving away? (Anyone can win the item by going to the rafflecopter on the right hand side of the pg.)

I will give away a hardcopy and ebook of "Songs of Icarus.".

First why don't you tell us a little about yourself?

After living in Merida, Mexico for almost 3 years I moved to Denver, CO for open heart surgery on an emergency basis. I don't recommend sitting in an airplane after a heart attack clutching a nitro inhaler while hoping you don't have to use it. Not the best of reasons to move but things have worked out. I owe my life to my heart surgeon, my sons and a Mexican woman.
Most of my earlier workdays were spent with computers. Long ago at a class we were asked to give 
our classmates a brief view of ourselves. When the instructor's turn came he said, "I have a degree 
in classics from Yale majoring in Greek and Latin. You might be wondering what the hell I'm doing 
here teaching Operating Systems...it's just another language." I spent my college days majoring in 
English. So why computers? To repeat...'just another language' and a better way to raise kids given 
the salaries of English teachers. I wanted to be a writer but didn't think I knew enough or had lived 
enough to write what I wanted to write. I think I know enough now.

Newest release?

"Songs of Icarus" is the result of having experienced enough to know what I consider the most important lesson I learned growing up - following the path mapped by others took me somewhere I didn't want to go. In the novel the model I used to illustrate the lesson learned is the myth of Icarus. He was told by his father Daedalus to follow him in flight, but Icarus loved to fly and came too close to the sun. 
Considered a tragedy by many, the myth of Icarus has become a call-to-arms by the romantics among us. It is no coincidence that the son of Daedulus is the model for Jim Collins, the main character of "Songs of Icarus." 

What can we expect from your stories, action, drama, romance,sex, blood and guts?

Action, drama, romance, sex, blood and guts. All of it. Although "Songs of Icarus" is mostly a coming-of-age novel I love suspenseful detective novels and have used some aspects of them to write this story.

Do you have a favorite character in your stories? Who? and Why?

Bill Evans, the legendary jazz pianist, is my favorite character in the novel. A jazz lover, I met Bill briefly at the Village Vanguard. I consider him to be the Fredric Chopin of the 2nd half of the 20th century. He was someone who carved his own niche in jazz history and influenced so much of the music I love. His life was a testament to art. He too flew too close to the sun. His flight left us the beauty of his music and his belief in the responsibility of the artist to be true to himself and his art. 

Give us an interesting fun fact or a few about your book or series:

The book was re-written to avoid copyright infringement. I had used over 100 partial song lyrics to show what was going on in the mid of Jim Collins on his journey. They had to be removed.
My life imitated my art. Like Jim Collins I fell in love with a Latina while writing the book. 
As much as people deservedly put down Philadelphia for its obscene sports fanatics, it is a city rich in culture, food and art with some of the best laid out landscape and architecture in the USA. Without "Rocky" the Ben Franklin Parkway and Art Museum steps would still be an unknown treasure. Paul Le Cret, a French architect, was responsible for much of Philadelphia's architecture and landscape.
The Barnes Institute has been the subject of a film documentary "The Art of the Steal" as a result of the breaking of Albert Barnes' will by the state of Pennsylvania. The college I attended bordered the Barnes but I never went there until I wrote the novel.

Has there been any other authors who have inspired your work or helped you out with your stories?

I am particularly fond of writers who have mastered stream of consciousness in their work. James Joyce and Virginia Woolf are at the top of the list.

Quotes from V. Woolf "Language is wine upon the lips." "You cannot find peace by avoiding life."

Quotes from J. Joyce "Mistakes are the portals of discovery." "Nations have their ego, just like individuals."

What can readers who enjoy your book do to help make it successful?

1) Buy another copy and give it to a friend or enemy for that matter. 
2) Review it with 5 stars on Amazon. 
3) Send me an email. Any one of these will do.

Do you have any tips for readers or advice for other writers trying to get published?

Read and follow the "I Ching."

Do you have a favorite author? If yes, what draws you to that person’s work?

Lao Tzu. "The Tao Te Ching" contains all the truths needed to live by.

Can you remember one of the first things you wrote? What makes it memorable?

Family friends lost a seven year-old to Reyes Syndrome who was a playmate of my sons. I wrote a poem to share in their grief and celebrate the all-too-brief beauty of their son's life. The poem was taped to the door of the fridge by the boy's Mom.

Where do you gather most of the inspiration for your work

From paying attention to what's going on in the world around me.

Do you have any other interesting hobbies, pets or stories you would like to share?

Hobby - Rooting for New Zealand's All Blacks rugby side Pets - Dogs of all kinds, but Rotties Rule Story -Goldilocks and the 3 Bears 

Favorite places to travel or visit?

1) Santorini, Greece - sitting in a cafe overlooking the Aegean at sunset 
2) Slieve League, Donegal, Ireland - maritime cliffs where I felt my Celtic ancestry and blood like no other place in the world. 
3) The bosom of my beloved. 

Thank you for sharing a little about yourself with us. 


Kishan Paul

Title: The Second Wife
Author: Kishan Paul
Release Date: October 14, 2015
Genre: Suspense/Thriller Length: 80,000 words
Cover Artist: Syneca Fetherstone

If you want to live, you must let go of the past...Twenty-eight-year-old Psychologist, Alisha Dimarchi, is abducted by an obsessed client and imprisoned in his Pakistani compound for over two years. Forced to change her name and live as his second wife, her life is filled with trauma and heartbreak. Thrust into a world of violence and oppression, Alicia must fight not only to keep herself alive but to protect the lives of the people she now considers family. At night, she retreats into her memories of the only man she has ever loved – a man she believes no longer loves her.Thirty-two-year-old handsome surgeon, David Dimarchi, has spent the last two years mourning the
disappearance of his wife. After a painful and isolated existence, he begins the process of healing. It is then that he is visited by a stranger, who informs him that his wife is very much alive and needs his help. In a desperate attempt to save her, David enlists the help of a Delta Force Operative. Together they find themselves in the center of more than just a rescue mission. Will he be able to reach her in time and if he does, will she still want him?

Add the book on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1JgPBTF

The slow drip of a leaky faucet disrupted Ally’s otherwise quiet slumber.
“Ally.” The distant sound of David’s voice soothed her, enveloping her in a warm blanket of safety. A smile tugged at her lips. Soon he’d crawl into bed and wrap his limbs around hers, cocooning her withhis love. Instead of the heat she anticipated, something coarse scraped against her cheek. When she tried to swat itaway, her arms refused to comply.
“Baby, wake up.” Her husband’s echoed tone became louder, rougher. “You need to wake up.”The urgency in it made her eyelids flutter, pulling her further away from the dark claws of sleep.
Like a silent movie, foggy images of a dimly lit parking lot invaded her thoughts. A woman, tall andlean, walked the deserted space alone. With each clip of her heels against the paved road, the haze cleared alittle more. Ally’s heart raced when the woman’s features came into view. Long, curly, black hair, dark browneyes, tanned complexion.
It was her.
Two sets of hands emerged from the shadows, dragging her into the woods. The taller of the two mencovered the woman’s mouth, muting her screams as she wrestled to break free, until the other one slammed abrick into the base of her skull, plunging her into darkness.
This must be a dream.
Rays of light pierced the darkness as Ally’s heavy eyelids fought to open. When she shifted, instead ofsoft sateen, her cheek scraped against a cold, hard surface.
“Alisha? Can you hear me?” This voice wasn’t David’s. It sounded thick, heavy with accent and oddlyfamiliar. So familiar, she shivered.


Rie Warren

Enter the steamy southern world of Carolina Bad Boys, the books that got readers hooked on hot sex, killer banter, and unexpected twists. 

Carolina Bad Boys Box Set
Stone: At Your Service (Carolina Bad Boys #1)
Love: In The Fast Lane (Carolina Bad Boys #2)
Steele: Into Your Heart
Chrome: With a Heart Forged in Steele
Ride: In Between The Covers

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