Monday, October 29, 2012

Panster or... Prankster?

Photo: Going to the Pumkin Fest in Sycamore! HOpe to see you there!I don't know where I got it, but I've always wanted to be the trick side of trick-or-treat, and scare the bejezus out of kids--young and old, if I could manage it. If trick-or-treaters wanted the delicious caramel apples that we made up just for them (we're talking 70'-80's here), then they had to get through the wierd sounds, ghouls, monsters, and ghosts I had set up in my yard... and they never knew which ones were "live". Take the one year I had my nephew wearing a mask, gloves, and a hooded sweatshirts (yeah, that's what they are called), and had him sit next to the front door. It was the last hurtle the little tykes had to go through. My actor underneath all the clothes and mask didn't move, until the precise moment, and then, only his hand, which was draped over the railing next to the door would move. Ohhhh! the screams! I loved it! We never had a soaped window or eggs thrown.

But it didn't need to be Halloween to make visitors scream. There was the time I had a small group of girl friends over from my high school for a "slumber party". I lived then in a rather large house. Larger than what the other three girls lived in. Plus it was old. I never knew how old until much later, it dated back to Civil War era. So, I used to tell them that it was haunted, which it wasn't, but that was me being the story teller back then.

I knew the time would be right to initiate my brother in at least one of my pranks that night before he left. You see, my room was situated over a closet on the first floor. The underside of the steps in front of my room, in fact, were easily accessed if one had a handy chair placed in the right spot in the closet below. My brother agreed to go into the closet downstairs, while we were all gathered in my room talking--and calling up boys and hanging up. What brother wouldn't want to be in on making girls scream?

We were all in my room and the knock came. I let one of the others answer--wouldn't be right I answered, the whole thing wouldn't work.

So, Alice answered and, of course, there was no one there.

The other two gasped and they looked out into the hallway, checked the room next to us, thinking they'd find the trickster. No one there.

The knock came again. Again they opened in. Again there was no one there. This creeped them out and they screamed and were beside themselves.

"I told you the house was haunted," I reminded. They certainly believed me now. There was no apparent logical way the knock came from anyone. Hahah!

Later on we played this silly game called "purple coffin" where you imagined your enemy--or someone you really hated--in a purple coffin, obviously dead from something.

After we played this, I knew I had to quickly rig up something that looked like a coffin, and put it in place so that they would come across it on their own. I had this old suitcase, a doll and something purple, and a flashlight. I got it ready for when we'd come down to make pizza (the kind in a box).

I said nothing to any of them. The coffin was set up in a room beyond the dining room, and could be seen from the kitchen doorway. The only way to the bathroom was through the dining room. You could not miss that light aimed into the "coffin" on the doll laying there. I should have become a director. I had directed a home made 8mm. film starring my nephew as "Dracula", and neice as his victim. I'd made a bat and at the right moment the bat disappeared and in it's place (on film), "Dracula" appeared. My niece now directly blames me for making her so screwy. You're welcome, honey!

Anyway, my anticipation hig, I bided my time as we made our pizza. We ate and drank pop. And then the first one had to go visit the bathroom. Perfect! Martha was the most skittish of them all. On her way out of the kitchen, she faced that far room with the doll and coffin. She let out a screach and backed up, crying "Purple coffin! Purple coffin!"

After they all got over the scare, I showed them what I had done. Needless to say I didn't host any more sleep overs at my house. I think that one lasted them.

As a side note, my "enemy"--from our "purple coffin" game I saw her the very next day at school on crutches. Someone told me that she had stepped on a needle.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Guest Post: James Garcia Jr. & Flash Point

Image of James, Jr. GarciaHaving been posting for a few years here on blogspot, I've gotten to know a number of special people who happen to be authors. And good ones, at that. The days of waiting for someone to acknowledge the talent that is out there is slowly, but dramatically going out the window with the abilty to publish our own. These are people who've worked hard on their novels in between their own jobs, their lives and all the things (i.e. sickness, family drama, deaths, etc.), that happen around them. Despite the fact that you may think in the back of your head "I'll never see this thing finished!" you some how do.
Case in point: My very good buddy, James Garcia Jr. (we all know him as Jimmy), has come a long way from his beginnings as a writer-become-author. As someone who also has struggled with getting a work published, or even written, I have a special place in my thoughts and heart for Jimmy. He had to contend with a few rough spots not only getting his first book, Dance on Fire, published, but then a rocky road to getting this second one, Dance on Fire: Flash point to fruition. You gotta admire someone who can pull themselves out of the quagmire of getting their work out there with determination such as did Jimmy. So, without further ado, I give you Jimmy on his newest work.

Dance on Fire: Flash Point
Five years ago, two vampires descended upon my home town of Kingsburg, California. It’s a small town. We have a population of only about 11,000. They left a lot of bodies in their little war.
They knew each other, you see. The eldest of the two was the one responsible for the younger. He called him his son. Nathaniel wasn’t pleased with this reference, considering Vincent murdered his father while he was in the room of his old house back in Romania.
Nathaniel wanted nothing but to be left alone. Little did he suspect that he would find himself a member of a family, merely by saving a woman and her children from Vincent’s evil hands. Barbara Lopez believes that God brought Nathaniel to her family because he is a vessel for good. Nathaniel is not so sure. In fact, he knows it isn’t true. He’s undead, and knows that there is no place in God’s kingdom for one such as him.

Or is there?
I told this story in 2010. I called it Dance on Fire. You’ve heard about this story on these very pages. I have come before you to tell you that the story wasn’t over. This Monday, I release Dance on Fire: Flash Point. Here’s the story…

Five years after the death of their only child Tiffany, Steve and Angie Rosen receive an unexpected guest to their Morro Bay, California home: their daughter. She comes with a tale of having suffered a terrible head wound in the fire that took their Kingsburg home, causing her loss of memory and migraine headaches that force her to hide from daylight in order to prevent. Tiffany's reemergence is treated like Manna from Heaven; however, her story is only half true. Tiffany is a vampire and their daughter in name only. She sleeps during the day and hunts for human blood during the night, and has come back to enact a twisted revenge upon those who ruined the plans of her master, the notorious vampire, Vincent. And she is not alone.
Five years after the terrible events that reshaped the Swedish Village, Kingsburg lies unsuspecting as five vampires descend upon her with a great evil in their black hearts.
Five years after old wounds have finally healed and the old fires were thought extinguished, Police Chief Michael Lopez and Officer Mark Jackson and their families find themselves surrounded when fires blaze anew. The good vampire, Nathaniel, has pledged his service to these people, but he is no longer among them. He lives high in the Oregon Mountains near the California border, seeking whether God might have a place in His kingdom yet for him.
When Nathaniel discovers that Tiffany has returned, will he be too late to stop her? And will his desire to protect his friends destroy what God has begun in him?
It will all begin with a Flash Point.

I want to thank my good friend, Lorelei, for giving me an opportunity to share my crossover vampire series with her fans and friends. I really appreciate you folks taking the time to listen. 
 James Garcia Jr. can be found at his BLOG where you can catch up on what he's been up to, excerpts from his books, and on  FACEBOOK, and TWITTER for BIOGRAPHY

Thank you Jimmy for coming for a visit and never giving up on your writing!

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Teaser Tuesday ~ From Spell of the Black Unicorn

This is a tidbit from my first self-pubbed novel, Spell of the Black Unicorn. With the help of my dear friend, Shelly Arkon who has offered to beta read it for me, so that I might get it all spruced up to re-publish it as an ebook. Thank you, Shelly!


Zofia relaxed back in a tub full of lilac-scented bubbles. A red patch covered her right eye made of two pieces of red silk sewn together. Sandwiched between the silk pieces were various herbs for curing specific ailments. Zofia had come across Tillie's amulet for eye twitching in the junk drawer of the kitchen while trying to dig out the cork screw. She thought a glass of wine might help, and while it certainly wouldn't hurt, it did relax her a smidge.
The amulet seemed to be reducing the little tugs below her right eye, now that she reached for the thin stem of the wind glass, nearly filled with white Zinfandel. She took a sip and replaced it on the cotton wash cloth along the flat edge of the tub. A square of dark chocolate resided on a paper napkin next to it. She picked it up and took a nibble. Nearly as good as it gets.
It didn't help when Zofia had entered her bedroom earlier she had found Dorian still in her bed. He looked dead laying on his back, as he slept the sleep of the vampire; his chest never rose, nor a twitch of a muscle. He'd been here all day.
She moved through the room quietly, getting what she needed, while hoping not to disturb him.
But he stirred.
Hi,” he said, one eye peeping at her.
Hi,” she said quietly. “I didn't mean to disturbe you.”
You didn't,” he said. “You could never disturbe me.”
She smiled. “I'm just getting some things. I'm taking a bath.”
He had nodded and closed his eyes. She had stood there staring at the rumpled sheets where a very delicious male body rested ensconced only in the dark blue satin sheets of her bed. One white vampire leg sticking out on the side, uncovered, while the rest of his body was more or less covered. Thank goddess. She didn't know if she could resist him, vampire or not, if his presents were exposed.
©2008 by Lorelei Bell

Monday, October 22, 2012

New Short Story Out: Murder Mansion

Because I love to write, the short story has always been one of those things that I've dabbled in. Somewhat like when I went through my poetry phase. I have to be in the right mood to work on a short story. These are harder to write--yes, for me, at least--than the novel. Novels are fun because I can put so much into it, so many threads and the plot etc. lets me continue on with a story.

The short story is a whole different animal. You have only so many pages/words in which to get that story down, and give it some twist at the end. The endings are the hardest part. I don't like stupid endings that mean nothing. I want to deliver the reader the sensation that they feel as though they are repaid for their time (and money). So I love to twist that ending just right.

In case you didn't know, I now have THREE short stories up on Amazon. Check out My Books above for links and description.

I have trouble placing pictures into my posts, but I will place the link for this latest one at the end of this.
When I wrote Murder Mansion, it was actually an experimental thing. I think it was more of a flash fiction piece, if I recall. The original was shorter, and I didn't quite have the ending. While puttering with it for publication on Amazon, I realized how the ending had to be. In many cases, much like poems, you have to exit the piece in such a way that is satisfying. At least that's the way I look at it.

Murder Mansion is a ghost story. It's premis is centered on the fact that people who have come to tragic or horrific endings, must return to re-live those moments that put them in the grave. What happened to James and Joan was horrific. They both must return to that same house, or mansion, where something horrible happened to Joan, and James was blamed for her murder.

Here is the link for Murder Mansion. Check it out, and if nothing else, hit the like button. Thank you!

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Cat Tails ~ Half-Pint Checks in

It's me. Half-Pint. I am runt of litter. But I am strong, fast and I love my mistress and her mate--the man with the beard who feeds us and gives good belly rubs. Makes me make a sound inside, I have no name for it. I only know I can't help but make that sound. It's different from when I call out "Meow" to get his attention.

Today we were busy hunting. Didn't catch nothing. But there were lots of flying things, things with funny tails that chattered at us. I am tired now. Want a huge nap. Might play a little. Teach my stupid older brother who is boss.

I love my mistress' fingers. They taste salty. Her toes have best flavor, but she covers them now. I don't understand that.

Also, my mistress is writer. She is busy, and I do not get to see her much. She didn't come out of their cave after dark, like her mate did. He gave me a good belly rub. I didn't want him to leave. He moved his face closer, so I gave him a kiss on the nose. I gave him three, in fact.
I think that my mistress has been busy putting up her short stories on a place called Amazon. I don't know Amazon. Is that a person, or an animal? I don't know. Anyway, she has been busy putting these up. One is called Holy Devil. That's a strange name for something, but I am only kitten who is three months old. She says its a version on someone named Rasputin, who is not really a holy man, but a vampire. And another one she calls, Vampire, My Own. I have no idea what a vampire is. She told me that story is for a younger crowd. Like me. I thought it was fun to listen to when she read it to me. I liked the girl in it. She was interesting. I wanted her to give me pettings.

She is working to put another one up called MURDER MANSION. Is something that sound scary. I ran and hid when I heard about this one. Is a scary ghost story. My review would be four kitten paws and one swish of the tail. It is scary, and dark and bloody. I am told it should be up on this thing called AMAZON soon. This coming week, in fact. It would be good if you go and buy them. They are not very much. Mast has bought a BIG bag of Meow Mix, now. You buy my mistress' books. It would help feed us wild cats. Think of it as a donation to us ferals. Pweeezzzz?

I think I am tired now. Going to curl up with the others. Mother has been acting strange lately. She whacked me one day when I tried to play with her. I went head over heals. Actually that was kind of fun. Hope you had fun chasing wild things like I did. Good night. Meow.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Mother Cat's Check in ~ They Grow So Fast!

Gone are the really hot days, as the weather turns colder. And I'm eating more. Well, I am feeding for about five to seven of us! Yes, I feel the quickening of motherhood upon me again. I will have to find a place soon. Not sure if the one I used before this will suit me. It was rather tight quarters. However, it is close to food and water provided for me. I manage to find moments when I can trot off to be alone from my little clan--those I dropped in mid-summer. They aren't as clingy and needy of me as they once were. They are growing and learning so much!

Why just the other day we were under the big trees, in the short grass, when two of my eldest were investigating the dug-up earth, when a squirrel made the unwise choice to scamper out into the grass. Sure, he was a good distance away, but still, the movement and his audacity stirred these two into action. They went down into a crouch, watching the thing go about its business looking for nuts, or whatever the stupid thing does.

Then surprising me and everyone, they both charged the squirrel. The thing ran, of course, toward the nearest tree, but sensing no danger from my two babes, it stopped.
Both kittens stopped, and looked back at me, as if to see if this was what was expected. But they stopped for barely a second, and looked back at their target. Then, they charged again, chasing it up the tree.

Oh, I could not have been more proud of my little tikes! Soon, they may bring something down. As it is, we are always on the look out for some small tidbit. Mice will not find their way into this house!
Now to do something about that chipmonk who lives in the backyard in the hole in the ground....

Friday, October 12, 2012

A Halloween Poem

This is a strange poem I wrote--and have been working on every year around this time for the past several years. It has several off-springs as well, but this is the main poem. It's called "WE"

We Zombies
steal rusty bicycles
leave behind fast-food wrappers.

We Freddy Krueger
wannabes look for
revenge in parking lots.

We teenangels karaoke in corfield mazes
Eerie sounds emanate from
latter-day construction sites.

We Litterbugs
lie prone in our own
refuse along the road to the prom as
darkness settles all around.

We eat fat and tempt
French fries
watching Charlie Brown
Manson loose self-control.

We live in time-traveling cocoons
on loan from the library
listen to the Tao of the
Ungrateful Dead.

We Zombies
astride rusty
bycycles, fly to the moon
leave behind old tires and empty
Pepsi cans.

Monday, October 8, 2012

SEX, SEX, AND ... (fill in the blank)

Okay. I admit that was a blatant attempt to get your attention today. But since you took the time to come on over I'll give you a scene--I call it the aftermath bedroom scene from book #5

But first I just wanted to preface and explain that as I got to the end of chapter 16, and realized I had to have something going on in the bedroom at the end of this chapter between Sabrina and her now husband, Vasyl (vampire). I'm not a romance writer. I've said this time and again. I do show the nitty gritty in my novels at times, but really, unless it has something to do with the plot, I see no reason to go into the blow-by-blow (okay, I could have used a better euphemism, but really, it works here, don't you think?) of two people going at it.

Plus, I'm lazy.

So, my little bitty brain came up with such a crazy after-the-dust-settles scene I nearly blew a gasket trying get it down without laughing myself silly. So, without further adu, here you go. Enjoy.

Please be advised this is rated P(X)G. And the Eff word is in there a few times as well.

I opened my eyes and found that the bed had moved at least a foot away from the wall due to my rocking motions. The amazing part was the bed wasn't on casters, and it rested on carpet.

Drenched in sweat, I was balanced precariously on top of Vasyl, in the last throws of ecstasy. The mattress below us had moved as well. It was now pitched at a forty-five deree angle, more or less, and my balance became jeopardized by weakened leg muscles from all my activities for the past two and a half hours. My knees had about four inches on either side of Vasyl's hips and that was it. The mattress buckled below my right knee, I pitched over, and tumbled to the floor.

"Ow." My hair, soaked from sweating profusely--because of the heat from both having sex with a vmapire and the too-warm room--fell down in my face.

Vasyl's laughter rang in my ears.

"Right. You try balancing on a two foot-wide mattress, buddy!"

He laughed harder, holding his hand to his stomach as though it hurt from laughing so hard. Then, pointing at me, he said something in French that sounded like an insult, yet sexy as hell.

I mopped matted hair out of my face and scowled, even though I found myself wanting to laugh, now looking at how we'd recked the bed and room, and the way I must look. He, on the other hand, looked entirely too comfortable with himself, like a nude study by Michelangelo. In contrast, my skin was coated in sweat. I needed a shower. I felt like I'd been mud wrestling. This had been the third or fourth time the mattress had wiggled askew from our love making. We had both fallen on the floor together before this. But this time Vasyl had somehow managed to remain poised on the top corner of the stupid little bed.

I threw a pillow at him and he easily swatted it away, still reamining banalnced on the edge of the bed. Bastard. I tried to move my feet. Couldn't. The sheets were twisted around one of my legs. Son of a bitch! I couldn't locate the bedspread. At this point it didn't matter. I worked to untie myself from the sheet, which was somehow anchored somewhere beneath the mattress. Vasyl reached down and pulled the sheet and freed me easily, his laughter finally dying.

"I am sorry, but you looked so silly," he said.

"Eff you," I spat.

"He chuckled sinisterly. "I think you already did. Would you liked to eff me more?"

"No. I'm taking a shower." I struggled to my feet and looked around. I realized I had no clothes up here except the ones I had on. I was not going to put a sweater and jeans back on over my sweat-soaked skin.

©Lorelei Bell

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Lost Kitten - Mother Cat Check In

It's been a trying week. I lost one of my kittens. I noticed when we came back from one of our excursions that it wasn't with us. I went back to find it. Now there are only four. Three are all gray tiger striped. My first born has long, thick fur black and white and his back legs are all white. It's embarrassing. But he's a good kitten, strong and smart. The one that's gone had white paws and white bib with the gray tiger stripes. Anyway, we go out into the woods. I want them to learn how to survive in the wild, like I was taught. I call to them and they know to come with me. But sometimes they dally. You know children. They want to play. Everything is a game to them. I don't think they realize anything can happen to them while we're out here. But they know to run when out in the open. It's a natural thing.
So, later on I went out that afternoon, trying to retrace my steps, listening for the faintest little mew. Of course the jays didn't help any. And my other kittens would rather jump around the tall grasses and play, or climb the tree. They were of no help. In fact they were a distraction to me. So, I decided I'd go out later. I searched everywhere, sniffing. No trace. No trace of anything. I fear a hawk took her. Sleek, low-flying hawks skim low to the ground, and you don't see them until it's too late. It happens. Few of my kittens don't usually survive a full year. Now that I have found a home where humans take care of us, give us water and food and shelter, the other four have a better chance.
Me? I am expecting again. With winter closing in this will be a tough few months.
[author's note: Tuesday the kitten, Mittens, came up missing, Wednesday mother cat went out for the afternoon and was gone for hours I presume trying to find her. Sadly she never was found.]

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Sadly Mittens Is Gone

We've lost a kitten. Somehow, someway the kitten I named Mittens is missing. Has been for two days now. We think something got her. Possibly a hawk. We do have them out here. I wasn't going to post about this, but I just needed to get this behind me. Sad, yes. But reminding myself these are feral cats.
But my sweet little Half-Pint is still with us. He is the friendliest one of the bunch and I guess has accepted us as his family as he comes up to us meowing and wanting to be petted. Mittens would come up to us, meowing, but she was stand-offish, but least afraid of us than the others aside from Half-Pint.

Other Stuff:
I'm working on my paranormal mystery, Spell of the Black Unicorn. Shelly Arkon has been kind enough to help me out in going through this manuscript. I first published this through a POD/self-published. I did sell a lot of copies to friends and through Borders (I miss Borders!), but it was never an e-book. I decided to work on the manuscript clean it up and sell it as an ebook, eventually.
But my next book in the Sabrina Strong Series will be coming out soon. I'm expecting the edits any day now. The cover art has yet to be found. But I think there's time for that.

Weather is changing over to cool, and the leaves are beginning to or have changed to their beautiful colors. I think this is the part I like best about autumn, aside from the fact my favorite holiday is at the end of the month.
Hope everyone is haveing a good week. I need to get back to the grindstone here.

Chickens lay eggs, and so do Turtles

For those of you who don't know my husband is park ranger and one of his main jobs is mowing. He has a large deck (72") Toro Zero T...