Gypsy Shadow Releases for January-May, 2021

New GSP Releases, January-May, 2021

June 2, 2021 By Charlotte Holley Leave a Comment

Many New Releases!

The Perfect Man by Violetta Antcliff

What is the perfect man? Is there such a person? Faith would have said no, would have argued that even a saint has flaws, defects. She has given up hope of ever finding a man that can live up to her expectations. That is until James and his namesake come into her life. One is perfection personified, too good to be true. The other has all the weaknesses of the common man. Does she want a robotic yes man who agrees with everything she says, or one who is anything but perfect? Can a simple kiss be the answer to this confusing conundrum? That is the question, but what is the answer?

Word Count: 10300
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Philip and the Boy Who Said, “Huh?” by John Paulits

Philip’s new friend Eugene has some strange ways about him, especially the way he sometimes ignores people. Philip decides to investigate, and when he finally figures out Eugene’s secret, it upends not only Eugene’s life, but also Philip’s own.

Word Count: 13400
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Across the Faebridge by Shiloh Darke

Leanna is a widow who just wants to start over. She moves out into the country, where she feels an instant connection to the land with the little cobblestone cottage. She hopes the change of scenery and time by herself will help her take some much needed time to herself and find a way to heal.

One evening, deciding to explore a little, she crosses the cobblestone bridge that crosses the creek running across the property. One minute, she is crossing the bridge in the late evening. Next minute, she is nose to nose with a real, live dragon. In the middle of the day.

As if the dragon isn’t shocking enough, the Elf on his back has seriously got to be the sexiest man she’s ever seen. Vlameir is an Elf King who has all but given up on finding his soulmate. When Leanna stumbles through the Portal and into his life, he is shocked to feel an instant connection to the petite human female.

But there is always more to every story. Unfortunately, soulmates finally finding each other is only the beginning…

Word Count: 78231
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Piñata Belly by Joe Novara

Harry, a retired African American high school history teacher turned D.C. tour guide, decides to explore guiding opportunities in Guatemala. On an outing to Mayan ruins, the life-long bachelor with a rapport with teens, connects with Bryn and through her, with her ex-pat grandmother, Cobi. Surprised by love, so late in life, in a cultural setting that views him as a “darker wave in a sea of brown,” he links up with Cobi as she unravels her tangled, exiled, Southern past.

Word Count: 22164
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Vito’s Tale by Joe Novara

Vito’s Tale is a piece of creative non-fiction (or historical fiction) about my grandfather who came to this country from Sicily ahead of his wife and children, sent my father to college, worked heavy construction labor all the while longing to return to the ‘home’ he left behind. Finally, as a widower, he did go back, married again and welcomed the grandson who came full cycle to live with him for a summer.

Word Count: 19200
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Ruby Crab by Nathan Gemmell

Bored, dreaming of a different life with adventure, success and family… Well, that’s just around the corner, but the path to our dreams is never straightforward.

Nat lives a mundane and solitary life. Day after day, nothing changes; he wakes up, goes to work, eats, then sleeps—and it all starts again the following morning. Always he dreams of a better life and to find someone to care for and to love.

Then, one day, he finds Ruby Crab. She is a beautiful childlike creature made of pure ruby. She has been abandoned! A refugee, Ruby Crab exists in a society in which she does not belong.

After spending a lot of time together, they develop a loving father-daughter bond. Will the world continue to reject her existence? Will society accept their connection? Will their love for each other prevail in this world—or in another?

Word Count: 10200
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Psychopaths and UFOs by Violetta Antcliff

G. Baxter & Flint, Private Investigators, are two of the best who seldom turn away clients who come to them for help. But when Georgina Baxter takes on a psychopath as a client, she gets more than she bargained for and ends up fighting for her life.

Joseph Flint, her partner in the firm, is persuaded to take on a client who he thinks is delusional, a man seeing aliens and flying saucers every time there’s a full moon.

Flint doesn’t believe in UFOs but he investigates regardless, and what he finds out is mind boggling, unbelievable.

Word Count: 10850
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Remembering Sunny by Dawn Colclasure

Jeanie and Mara are two cousins who grow up together and share a dream of opening their own animal shelter one day. But that dream is put on hold when, at 18, Mara announces she is pregnant and that she’s going to marry her boyfriend, Drake Preston. Jeanie knows Drake is bad news, but supports her cousin all the same. After Sunny is born, Mara can’t imagine her life without her. Then tragedy strikes and the family pulls together in mourning. It is in her grief that Mara learns how to turn tragedy into triumph and bring hope to her life again.

Word Count: 10750
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Cagalupo Redux by Joe Novara

Nick Finazzo, a roving freelance writer, spots Carol walking a Lake Michigan beach a long way and a lifetime from their early years in Detroit’s Eastside—their adolescent attraction, friends in common and now disparate life styles—her Lake Michigan mansion, his live-in van. Can they start over?

Word Count: 5700
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

Eltava: A Sword for All Ages by Nyki Blatchley

A swordswoman with a love of wandering, Eltava lives a nomadic life in a world of island kingdoms and mainland empires, sometimes on her own, sometimes with her immortal companion, known as the Traveller. These eleven stories chronicle her life and adventures from an adventure-obsessed 14-year-old to an 84-year-old who still has a move or two up her sleeve.

From acting as bodyguard for princesses to defending peaceful communities from aggression, Eltava battles bandits and tyrants, demons and unearthly creatures. But her greatest battle is with herself, as she becomes more aware that she’s growing old, while her companion doesn’t age. A search for eternal life ultimately teaches her that life itself is a victory, however long or short—and Eltava’s going to enjoy every minute of hers.

Word Count: 78585
Buy at: Smashwords (all formats) ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Amazon

 

New Release September 21, 2020

 

The Lady in the Loch by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough. Also available at Barnes and Noble, Amazon and dozens of other online vendors.

Basically the same story with a brand new look, Cover Art by Karen Gillmore.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Skillfully cross-stitching history, mystery and old-time urban legend… tension mounts steadily . … an artful work. —Publisher's Weekly The Lady in the Loch by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough

When a woman’s bones are found in the icy dregs of the noxious Nor’ Loch, newly appointed sheriff of Edinburgh, Walter Scott, is called upon. Are these the remains of a drowned witch or religious heretic, or are they perhaps linked to something more recent and sinister? For although Edinburgh is known to be the center of literature, science, and medicine, it is also the haunt of body snatchers who prey upon the living and the dead alike, selling their victims for study by the student physicians at the medical school.

When a band of Travelling People is forced to winter near the city, two young women are taken, one from her bed while she sleeps near her family. Justice from the settled people is rarely accorded to gypsies and the Travellers fear they will be murdered one by one by the ghouls stalking their people.

A young gypsy named Midge Margret is sure that Scott will care. He befriended her family before and once more he promises to help find the murderer who prowls the snowy forest in a black coach. When a patchwork woman with supernatural strength begins hunting the streets as well, Scott and Midge Margret know the crimes are rooted in bloody dark magic. In order to catch the killer, the butchered victims themselves must testify.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Elizabeth Ann Scarborough

Elizabeth Ann Scarborough was born in Kansas City, KS. She served as a nurse in the U.S. Army for five years, including a year in Viet Nam. Her interests include weaving and spinning, beading and playing the guitar and dulcimer.

Scarborough is the author of more than 24 solo fantasy and science fiction novels, including the 1989 Nebula award winning Healer’s War, loosely based on her service as an Army Nurse in Vietnam during the Vietnam War. She collaborated on 16 novels with Anne McCaffrey, six in the bestselling Petaybee series and eight in the YA bestselling Acorna series, and most recently, the Tales of the Barque Cat series, Catalyst and Catacombs (from Del Rey). Recently she has converted all of her previously published solo novels to eBooks with the assistance of Gypsy Shadow Publishing, under her own Fortune imprint. Spam Vs. the Vampire was her first exclusive novel for eBook and print on demand publication, followed by Father Christmas (a Spam the Cat Christmas novella) and The Tour Bus of Doom.

EXCERPT:

Available soon in PRINT!

The mother of the corpse wore solid black as she danced round and round the room to the lamenting coronach of the pipes. With her danced the father of the corpse, also in black. The attire of both showed signs of having been recently, hastily dyed for the occasion. Phantoms of the plaid fabric swam beneath the dye of the mother's gown. The mother wept as she danced and the father scowled. The corpse lay in the middle of the room, her claes deid, her funeral garments, concealing the thirty stab wounds in her chest and the dishonor her killer had subjected her body to before she died. All around the coffin, her brothers and sisters-in-law, her sisters and brothers-in-law, her fiance and her grandmother, all of them weeping, shuffled in their own awkward dancing. The neighbors danced and wept as well. And close by the coffin, the bound and gagged tinkler man was weeping too, less for the murdered lassie than for himself, he who was the accused.

The time was one minute until midnight by the grand-father clock standing in the candle-cast shadows draping the walls, festooning the ceiling and carpeting the floors. The flickering of these same candles lent astonishing expressions to the corpse's face and deepened the dread on the faces of the other celebrants, dancing, singing, eating, drinking, and weeping for the dead lass.

A danse macabre if ever there was one, Walter Scott mused from his chair in the center of the room, close to the girl's open coffin. Scott was excused from the dancing both because of his semi-official status in the investigation and because of his lame leg. In a way, it was quite thrilling, this lyke-wake, for it was the first he had attended. Lowlanders and Borderers such as himself, people raised in the strictness of the Kirk, did not practice such rituals, but the girl's family, the MacRitchies, were transplanted Highlanders. So on the one hand, this gave Scott a wonderful opportunity to observe a ritual of which he had previously only read. But on the other hand, there was the girl in the coffin, and though he had never known her, never heard her name, she was touchingly young, younger even than his own eighteen years. She should have been beautiful too, an Ophelia, a Lily Lady of Shalot, but she was actually rather ordinary-looking, robust even in death, the freckles standing out like blemishes on the waxiness of her skin, her eyes, at present, closed with coins, her red hair too festive for her own funeral.

The sheriff-depute of Selkirk, Scott's old friend Adam Plummer, stood beside him, both of them shivering, for the room was chill for more common reasons than the eldritch atmosphere that gripped it. The fireplace was cold, as it must be until the body was removed, and the door was still wide open for the moment.

As the clock gonged the first of its twelve notes for midnight, the dancing wound to a shuffling halt and the piped lament died a wheezing death. Plummer crossed the makeshift dance floor in two long strides and closed the door so that it was barely ajar. The mourners hushed, except for one man who continued, unheeding, to gnaw on the drumstick of a goose. As Plummer returned to the corpse's side, the clock struck its second gong. The mother, Mrs. MacRitchie, let loose with her eerie keening cry, the hullulu, as the Irish so accurately termed it, for that was the way it sounded, a long mourning-dove yell.

The MacRitchies' large, pleasant stone farmhouse was wrapped in the boughs of the Ettrick Forest, and both forest and farmhouse kitchen could be entered from the kitchen door. The house was not too far from that of Scott's old friend James Hogg, and his mother. Hogg had been with the search party that discovered the lass's poor body and also with the party that had flushed the tinklers from their camp in the woods and chased the young man through the trees. The murdered girl's fiance and her brothers had assumed, as had all the neighbors, that the tinkler lad, since he was in the area, was of course the perpetrator of the crime. Had it been left only to them, the young man would by now be hanged. But Hogg, who had some connections with and sympathy for the tinklers, told the accusers that if they proceeded, the current laws of this district would call them murderers as well, that it was best to send for the sheriff-depute and allow him to conduct a proper investigation. Recalcitrant as the younger laddies were, the elder MacRitchies prevailed and allowed Hogg to send a servant with a message to the home of Scott's aunt Janet in Sandy Knowe. Scott was visiting his aunt and uncle for the summer, far away from his studies at the university in Edinburgh. He and Plummer had been whiling away the early afternoon playing chess when the MacRitchies' servant knocked on Aunt Janet's door and told him of the lass's death (never calling her by name. One never called the deceased by name unless in court or kirk or on one other occasion, as the sheriff was soon to demonstrate). Plummer evidently was acquainted with the family, however, and had some idea that the lyke-wake was in order. He told Scott that this might prove a more interesting experience than most and urged the younger man to accompany him.

Riding hard, they had reached the farmhouse shortly after sunset, when the forest shadows gave way to the mist rising from the creeks and ponds, and that was joined by the smoke from the kitchen chimney, blowing a solemn ring around the house.

Plummer questioned Mrs. MacRitchie, who had laid her daughter out, about the girl's wounds. Scott was relieved his friend had felt no need to remove the funeral linens to see the wounds for himself, but he wondered why. Plummer questioned the tinkler lad as well, but the man refused to say anything except that he had done nothing wrong, and to shake his head stubbornly. The brothers and the girl's fiance, one Robert Douglas, the son of an even more successful farmer than the girl's father, wanted to "bate the truth oot o' the knacker," and in fact, it looked as if they had already made progress toward that goal before Plummer and Scott arrived. Hogg too bore a couple of visible bruises, although no apparent malice toward those who had inflicted them.

The clock gonged for the fourth time. Plummer began, "By the power vested in me by the Sheriff of Selkirk and through him the King, I will noo commence interrogatin' the victim of this heinous crime."

"What does he mean, interrogate the victim?" Scott asked Hogg, who had drawn near.

Hogg shrugged. "Used to be done whenever there was foul play, according to Mither," he whispered back. "Nowadays nane but the law know the way."

"Why's that?" Scott asked, but just then, one of the men screamed.

"No! Let her rest in peace! We hae Ma—my bride-to-be's murderer there. We should hang him and be done wi' it!"

"Haud yer tongue, man," Plummer commanded. "Let nane speak but her whose foremost business it is, the last witness to this crime. In the pursuit of this investigation, once more I invoke thy name, Mary MacRitchie," he said, in appropriately sonorous tones. "Rise up, lass, and accuse thy slayer."

Though he had never seen such a thing before, Scott had read of the dead accusing their slayers, but had thought it only superstition. He, with the other occupants of the room, held his breath, waiting, to see what would happen, what, if the victim indeed rose up, she would say.

Even the gnawer of the goose bone had finished all the flesh and, putting away his bone, realized that the room was now completely still except for his ever-more-cautious chewing and the echo of Plummer's invocation, and the heartbeats and expirations of all of those who were not now allowed to speak. The first sound other than those was a slight slipping, like jewels against a lady's velvet dress, and then a hollow clink as the coins fell from the girl's eyes and dropped into her coffin as if it were a wishing well.

Even the tinkler was still, as with a sussuration of the claes deid and a long, pain-wracked groan, the body raised itself, hands still bound across its chest, to a sitting position.

With the raising, Scott caught the stench of corruption emanating from her, washed and freshly dressed as she was. On such a warm summer day as this had been, her body had already begun to decay.

Newest Release, September 15, 2020

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Kari and Fai, wandering teenage sorcerers and lovers whose spells occasionally work, just want to relax in the city of Jayen—only it's vanished. Things just get weirder when they learn from a child goddess that the city's been catapulted thousands of years into the future, and they need to follow it with her to avert disaster.

But the future is more terrifying than they expect—a dystopian technological nightmare, where a crack in reality is keeping two versions of the city trapped. To save Jayen (and maybe the world) Kari and Fai must venture into the Crack and confront the mysterious Dweller within.

Word Count: 26500

Also Available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and other vendors worldwide!

 ABOUT THE AUTHOR:     

Nyki Blatchley is a British author, poet and copywriter who lives just outside London. Alongside a varied career that's involved selling books to royalty, care for disabled people and posing for artists, he's had about seventy stories published by, among others, Penumbra, Daily Science Fiction and The Thirteenth Fontana Book of Great Horror Stories. His novel At An Uncertain Hour was published by StoneGarden, and he's had novellas out from Musa Publishing and Fox & Raven.

Nyki is an administrator for the online fantasy writers’ group Fantasy-writers.org. He's also had numerous poems published and has performed poetry and music at various venues around London. This included frequent appearances at the legendary coffee-house Bunjies, which in the 60s hosted artists such as Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and David Bowie.

WEBSITE: http://www.nykiblatchley.co.uk
BLOG: https://nyki-blatchley.blogspot.com
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/NykiBlatchley
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/nyki.blatchley

EXCERPT: 

I

“So,” demanded Karaghr, gazing around the unbroken jungle, “where exactly is this city?”

Failiu raised her eyebrows at him, jerking her head suggestively at their guide. Her face looked torn between anger and tears, and he reached out a comforting hand to her. She’d been looking forward to reaching the city of Jayen and its comforts even more than he had.

Da-Zheng, the guide who’d brought them all the way up the river, stood staring around. Had the man brought them to the middle of nowhere deliberately, for some nefarious purpose? It seemed unlikely, from what Kari had seen during the journey of the stolid, reliable man, but he put his hand on his knife-hilt, just in case.

“I don’t understand it.” Da-Zheng turned to them, his pale face even more blanched than usual. “This is the place. Jayen should be here.”

“But it’s not, is it?” snapped Fai. “You’ve brought us the wrong way.”

“No.” The Thaal guide shook his head, his eyes stunned. “It’s all as it should be. The bend in the river. The ridge we crossed two hours back. Anyway, we followed the road.”

That was true. The paved road was clear enough that Kari had wondered occasionally why they needed a guide, although Da-Zheng had been valuable in steering them through the customs of remote villages.

“Could it be a different road?” he suggested. There must be a simple explanation.

“I know the road to Jayen. There isn’t a route in these parts I don’t know.” From anyone else, the retort might have been angry, but Da-Zheng seemed to have no temper to lose. He made a broad gesture to indicate trees, undergrowth, the riverbank a few hundred paces away, the three of them standing in the steamy heat still rising from the last downpour. From a distance came an animal cry that Kari didn’t recognise. “Here,” the guide insisted in his slow voice. “This should be the south gate.”

Kari pulled Fai closer to himself, taking comfort by giving it. “So what are you saying? That an entire city has vanished, and the ground taken back by the jungle since you were last here? Just how long ago was that?”

“Last summer.” Da-Zheng was wandering around the immediate vicinity now, as if the buildings might be hidden behind one of the trees. “It was a thriving city last summer, and I’ve heard no news of disaster. In any case, what about that merchant? He’d been in Jayen, hadn’t he?”

That was true, and Kari cursed himself silently for forgetting it. The merchant they’d passed on the road five days ago was effusive about the prices he’d got for his goods in the city’s many markets and the rare commodities from the north that would make him even more when he returned to the coast.

That was Jayen’s importance, as a meeting-point for the road and river trade that came from both north and south of the great forests dividing the Thaal kingdoms in half. In spite of its remoteness, trade made it a rich and luxurious city, everyone said.

Fai trembled, and she was as pale as her dusky Errishi complexion would allow, but she let Kari help her shuck her pack before collapsing to sit on it. He joined her, holding her hand. A speckled snake, longer than he was tall, slithered along a branch high above, but took no notice. It was of a type Da-Zheng said wouldn’t attack humans unless it felt threatened.

It had seemed such a good idea to go on a trek through the jungle to find the city of Jayen. The Lost City, Failiu insisted on calling it, though it was nothing of the kind, and the trek was a stroll along a good road. Still, finding lost cities was what you did when you were teenage outlaw sorcerers, and that’s what they’d been since they were kicked out of the temple in Errish for studying forbidden volumes. It was an adventure.

Da-Zheng still wandered about, looking stunned. “It doesn’t make sense,” he muttered.

“All right.” Kari felt he should be positive for Fai’s sake. “Could you be mistaken? I mean, the jungle’s confusing. I know you know it, and there’s the road, but is it possible… I don’t know, there’s another bend in the river and another ridge just like the ones you know? Or… something?”

The guide looked at them blankly. He was an emotionless, middle-aged man who hadn’t seemed flustered by anything that had happened on the journey—not even when his young charges had wandered away for an exuberant lovemaking session and got lost—which made his attitude now more frightening.

“No. No, there’s no chance I’m wrong. This is where Jayen should be.”

Gypsy Shadow Turns Ten

Ten Year Celebration

Gypsy Shadow Publishing celebrated TEN YEARS in publishing September 1, 2019! To commemorate our tenth birthday this month...all month long, buy ANY eBook at regular price from the GSP website (http://www.gypsyshadow.com), email me (cholley@gypsyshadow.com) with proof of your purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble or Smashwords and tell me which other eBook you want to receive for FREE (must be equal or lesser value than the one you buy), and I will send it to you in the format of your choice. Happy birthday, GSP!

Marissa's Surprise by Shiloh Darke

NEW RELEASE AUGUST 26!

Marissa's Surprise by Shiloh Darke

#gypsyshadow #eroticromance #series

http://www.amazon.com/Marissas-Surprise-Celestial-Abductions-Book-ebook/dp/B00N2HQNU4

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/marissas-surprise-shiloh-darke/1120210366           

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/470646

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Shiloh.html#Marissa                               

His only chance to help save his world lies in the hands of a human woman. But dare he hope love might bloom between them? Marissa's Surprise by Shiloh Darke. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Shiloh.html#Marissa                               

                               

The first time Marissa saw him, she was training for the Olympics in the depths of the Sea. He was there for a moment, then she lost sight of him when he vanished beneath the waves.

Two years later, she has suffered some losses and is only beginning to refocus on her goals. Thoughts of her fleeting meeting with the man from the water still haunt her. When she’s abducted by an alien, she is illogically worried she may never see him again. Little does she know, he’s not from the ocean; he isn’t even from Earth.

Word Count: 18600

Pages to Print: 59

File Format: PDF

Price: $ 3.99    /2.41    /3.02

EXCERPT:

Prologue

Two years prior to when the abductions occurred

Savryk circled the portal, using his powerful tail to gain momentum. The vortex between the sister planets opened only once every few cycles, so his time was limited. The survival of his species depended on the chance that this planet held women whose DNA could be easily modified to enable them to survive within the waters of Meridia.

His brother of blood had undergone the appropriate tests to see if the land-dwelling females here could bear offspring with the Meridia races. Once the seed had taken root in the incubators, he had known the only thing left was to see if the race from Earth ever ventured into the waters of their world.

With one mighty dive, the Merman swam through the portal. The oceans of Earth were similar to the oceans of Meridia. But if the women there never set foot in their water, then Savryk knew he and his brothers of the depths were doomed.

As he swam out of the coral that protected the entrance to his world from prying eyes, he took notice of the creatures who occupied this sister ocean. Almost immediately, a school of dolphins approached him, curious about his existence. He watched them warily a moment, but couldn’t help smiling when they greeted him and joined him on his journey toward the surface of the water.

He could tell by the shallowness of the ocean floor, land was not far away. He couldn’t risk being seen, for obvious reasons: blue tinted skin, along with a tail would be very hard to play off as normal on this world. Luckily, his eyes could see easily at far distances, so he would only need to see if they were swimmers.

As he neared the surface, the dolphins, who bore close resemblance to the creatures his world called Pheldorns, sprang from the ocean, soaring powerfully out of the water and splashing each other as they did. He watched them frolic for a few minutes while he worked up his courage to surface and find out if there were any of what the Slavers referred to as humans, playing in or around the water.

Slowly, he broke through with gentle strokes, only rising above enough to let his eyes see. He stared intently at the sandy beach and the men, women and children who played there. Hope filled him as he saw women and children not only running through the shallows, but also some people, further out, swimming. They lacked the tail that he was able to grow when in water, but they still swam.

He was so excited by his discovery that he didn’t notice the girl until she spoke. “Are you okay? What’s the blue stuff; some kind of sun screen?”

Startled, he turned toward the voice, only to come face to face with the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Her hair, which he’d been told about, was light colored, even when it was wet, and floated in the water around the girl as she moved slowly closer to him. Her eyes were a deep color of blue. He could understand her speech, but he knew she would not understand him if he were to speak, so he remained silent, and simply nodded. If she thought it was sunscreen, maybe he could spend a few more moments in her presence.

She waited for his answer, but when he said nothing, she tried again. “Do you not speak English? I’m surprised to see anyone besides myself out this far from the beach.” She seemed to contemplate him for a moment before her face brightened.

“Are you training for the Olympics too? I have two more years to get ready, and I figure if I can master these waves before then, it’ll improve my time in the pools.” She chattered as he watched her in silent fascination. “I’ve also been working on holding my breath underwater. I’m up to three minutes if I’m swimming and almost six if I’m just hovering.”

When his eyebrow rose in response to her words, she took it to mean he didn’t believe her. “Oh, you think I’m lying, don’t you? Well, here! I’ll show you! Watch!”

~~~

Savryk watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as she pulled what looked to be some kind of protective eye covers over her eyes and took a deep breath before plunging beneath the surface. His eyes widened as he realized he only had a matter of seconds before she knew he was not like her. Panic filled him, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon her company. Instead, he waited for the hysteria that was bound to overwhelm her. He reasoned with himself that if she passed out from what she discovered, he couldn’t leave her defenseless. She could drown.

She had sunk below the water and began mentally counting. She was good at this. He would have no choice but to believe her when she resurfaced, because he would have witnessed her talent firsthand. She slowly opened her eyes and looked around. The ocean was pretty clear out here and easy to see, as long as you used goggles.

She had her face turned to the side, but she was curious as to whether this man had put the blue sun screen over his entire body. However, when she turned to look at his legs, she found them strangely missing. Instead, there was a large fishtail. At least, that’s what she thought it was. She had heard of people who practiced swimming wearing suits that covered their lower bodies with long back fins that helped to steer their way through the water, but she had never seen one.

Her curiosity got the best of her, and she found herself reaching out to touch the suit. She had to remind herself not to breathe at her discovery. She knew what she felt was most definitely flesh under her touch instead of any kind of waterproof fabric. She stroked the tail for a moment as if trying to wake herself up from what she was afraid was only a delusion.

~~~

When he felt her hand, not only touching his tail but also stoking it, he closed his eyes. He could just take her; claim her for himself and swim through the portal with her in his arms. No one need ever be the wiser. He could claim her, breed her, and they would have children before the end of the Season. The desire to do just that was almost overwhelming.

He stayed stock still, breathing slowly as she seemed to be exploring him. She was being so gentle it was almost a kind of torture to him. She obviously wasn’t really panicking too terribly. He couldn’t imagine she would be spending so much time below the water, touching him if she was truly scared.

He was debating silently with himself when her hand slid slowly across the flesh fold that covered his genitals. Immediately, he felt them stir in response to her touch. Unnerved, he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing her hand and pulling her up.

When she surfaced, he reached out and yanked the goggles off her face, eliciting a startled squeak from her. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Please forgive me.” She spoke hurriedly, and Savryk shook his head as he found himself unwilling to let her go.

By all rights, she should be screaming and trying to put as much distance from him as she could manage. Instead, here she was apologizing and asking if she had hurt him. He gripped her arms with both his hands and held her closer than he should, but she didn’t seem to mind.

When she finally stopped speaking, she bit her bottom lip and seemed to think over her words before she asked, “Is that real?” Her voice was soft, and Savryk found himself mesmerized by both her beauty and her voice.

He knew she would not understand his words. She did not have the Nanos that had only been in use in his galaxy for a little over the last few centuries. He answered her the only way he could. Nodding his head, he was still reluctant to let her go. She might try to flee and he just couldn’t bear to part with her yet. She was the most amazing creature he had ever seen.

She offered him a shy smile. “My name is Marissa Prince. I love to swim. I’ve been swimming since I was old enough to get in a pool.” Her smile grew and she giggled. “Is this for real? I’m talking to an honest to goodness real life Merman. I must either be dreaming or I’m the luckiest girl in the world!”

Savryk fought an internal battle within himself. He was breathing in the sweet fragrance of her pheromones. It was a unique scent the men of his race could smell only when in the presence of a potential mate. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and swim swiftly back through the portal and claim her as his bride, right now.

The desire to do so almost overwhelmed him, but he fought it as he returned her gaze. She was still too young for him to claim. Even in his own world, it would be forbidden for him to take her as a mate. She was close to reaching maturity, but he knew she was not yet ready.

Unable to stop himself, he reached out and stroked her cheek for a moment. Her eyes held his, and she smiled. Steeling himself, he moved back from her and turned, diving back into the depths of the ocean and making his way swiftly to the portal before he changed his mind and did something he knew would be a violation of everything he believed.

His mind repeated her name over and over in his head; Marissa Prince. He would remember her. If it was at all possible, he would request the Slavers take her when the time came. He was already desperate for her. He had to have her. He’d ask forgiveness later. If he was truly lucky, she would find a way to forgive him.

The Bridge Between Worlds by Stephen M. DeBock

NEW IN PRINT, JULY 1, 2014!

The Bridge Between Worlds by Stephen M. DeBock

#gypsyshadow #fantasy #parallelworld

http://www.amazon.com/Bridge-Between-Worlds-Stephen-Debock/dp/1619502275

http://www.amazon.com/The-Bridge-Between-Worlds-ebook/dp/B006GKBF3E

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-bridge-between-worlds-stephen-m-debock/1107830864

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/109769

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/StephenDeBock.html#Bridge

Alden Walker—sport pilot and skydiver—finds himself and his light airplane mysteriously transported into an alien world . . . The Bridge Between Worlds by Stephen M. DeBock. Available from Amazon, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/StephenDeBock.html#Bridge

Alden Walker—sport pilot and skydiver—finds himself and his light airplane mysteriously transported into an alien world: a parallel Earth peopled by exotic-looking humans as well as a host of animals that have evolved into human-like form, with human-like powers of thought, but which have retained their appetites for flesh and blood. Especially human flesh and blood. 

Accompanied by a beautiful indigenous woman with a score of her own to settle, Walker must set out upon a covert mission to retrieve a vital element from the creatures who have stolen it, employing his piloting and parachuting skills in combination with her superb swordsmanship.

On their quest they will encounter a host of anthropomorphic predators, until they finally reach their goal: a mountain fortress occupied by a coldly calculating race of humanoid vampire bats. And upon the success or failure of their mission hangs the fate of both their worlds.

Word Count: 50000

Pages to Print: 174 

Price: $4.99 in eBook

PROLOGUE

From the Baltimore Sun:

REPORTER KILLED IN SKYDIVING ACCIDENT

SALISBURY, MD—A skydiving mishap has cost the life of a well-known feature writer for this newspaper. Lynda Murray, 26, perished when her parachute failed to open. She was a veteran of over 100 jumps.

Murray was the correspondent who penned the popular “Girls Do It” feature that appeared monthly in Sunday’s edition of this newspaper. The column chronicled her forays into offbeat and occasionally dangerous hobbies and pursuits, especially those favored mostly by men. Last September, she learned of a parachuting school located at Walker Field, here, and signed up for a jump course. She wrote a full-page article about her experience, complete with freefall photographs, in a subsequent “Girls Do It” column.

Having become enamored of the sport, Murray coupled her love of skydiving with her growing affection for the airport’s owner, Mr. Alden Walker. The two were married last Saturday while enroute to jump altitude in the center’s airplane. Their plan was to be pronounced man and wife during freefall by the Rev. Donald Wilson, a fellow parachutist. They were then to perform aerial maneuvers for the entertainment of their guests on the ground before opening their chutes.

Features editor George Murray (no relation), an invited guest, reports that whereas the parachutes of Walker and the minister deployed normally, “Lynda’s never came out of her pack. All of us could see her struggle to pull the ripcord. When she finally pulled her reserve, it was just too late.” He added, “Lynda was a vital part of our Sun family. She will truly be missed.”

Murray’s parents are deceased and she had no siblings. She is survived by her husband, Alden James Walker. The Hemby Funeral Home, Salisbury, is in charge of arrangements. Rev. Wilson, acting as spokesman, has asked that in lieu of flowers, memorial gifts be made to the donors’ favorite charities in the name of Lynda Murray Walker.

CHAPTER 1

I could tell Gus wanted to smack me—hard—upside the head.

“When are you gonna stop moping around, Numbnuts? Two months and you still won’t get back on the horse that throwed you. Fly a plane. Take a jump. Even better, take a student pilot up, run a jump lesson, earn the company some money for a change.”

I attempted to deflect the sting with a weak stab at humor. “Just so I’m clear on this, Gunny. You’re calling the man who signs your paychecks Numbnuts?”

He tried to look contrite, something he was never able to do. “Oh, I’m sorry; Mister Numbnuts—sir.” He scowled and shook his head, his short gray hair still cut high and tight and flat on top, just as it had been when he was in the Marines. “Come on, Walker, all due respect to Lynda, you’re not the one screwed up. I’ve told you every day, every way I know, and you know I’m right. From now on, convince yourself And do it fast.” He put his hands on his hips, as he used to do when he wanted to intimidate recruits. “I’m carrying your load as well as mine around here, and my sea bag’s gettin’ kinda heavy. Know what I mean?”

I had to admit he was right. I was as useless as teats on a boar hog since what folks euphemistically called the accident. Don Wilson, Nate the jump pilot, Lisa the head instructor, Dennis the chief rigger, all the club members—they knew full well accidents are caused; they don’t just happen. And they were kind enough never to mention the obvious—that I was made a widower after forty-five seconds of married life because of human error, not mechanical. And the human in question wasn’t me.

So here I stood, in the ops building next to the airport parking lot and directly across from the jump school, attempting the impossible: staring down my former drill instructor, now my fixed-base operation’s chief administrator. Gus ran the FBO with the same no-nonsense, by-the-numbers approach he’d used on the grinder at Parris Island. And his calling me Numbnuts was mellow. I can remember from when I was an eighteen-year-old recruit his getting within two inches of my nose, his stogie breath nearly gagging me, screaming all sorts of imprecations and aspersions upon my ancestry. I remember too, his famous threat to the platoon, which he regularly made good on to individuals throughout our boot training: “You little pissant, I’ve decided I’m not going to chew your ass out! No, private! I’m going to chew around your ass, and let it fall out by itself!”

From day one, when my ragged platoon mates and I had to stand on the painted yellow footprints in our first formation, eyes front, thumbs on our trouser seams, heels together, feet at a forty-five-degree angle, Staff Sergeant Bellows (how appropriate the name) and his two junior drill instructors rode us hard, kept reminding us that we weren’t Marines, we wouldn’t make a pimple on a Marine’s ass, we were nothing but a bunch of high school pussies. And they kept reminding us there were: “only two ways to get off my beloved Parris Island—in a Marine Corps uniform or in a pine box.” Most of the recruits both feared and hated their DIs. But I didn’t. Well, I admit to a certain amount of fear. But I had gone in knowing what they had to do.

The King's Affair by Teel James Glenn

NEW RELEASE JUNE 1, 2014!

The King's Affair by Teel James Glenn

gypsyshadow #steampunk #youngadult

http://www.amazon.com/Kings-Affair-Sci-Magickal-James-Glenn-ebook/dp/B00KPHRO2A

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-kings-affair-teel-james-glenn/1119638637

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/443917

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Teel.html#KingsAffair

Is the alluring Baroness Lorenza working against the king? Who are the mysterious men who attacked Jeremy Cross? Will he find out in time to save the king and himself? Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Teel.html#KingsAffair

When Sci-Magickal student Jeremy Cross, saved the King of England from assassination he thought he’d had all the adventure he’d ever get. He was wrong! He is asked to be a ‘secret’ bodyguard to the King of the country of Andorra. His job is to determine if the alluring actress the Baroness Gia Lorenza is working against the king. Little did he know the assignment would lead to more danger than he had ever imagined. Mysterious assassins, intrigue, espionage and the dread prospect of appearing on stage are just the beginning of the thrills he faces as he tries to determine-is she one of the good guys or a true femme fatale?

Word Count: 26200

Pages to Print:  91

Price: $3.99

EXCERPT:

Prologue

The King’s Airfare

When the Baroness Gia Lorenza entered the main lounge of the luxury Luffe-Zeppelin III, every male eye turned toward her. She slid across the floor with an effortless sensuousness that sent the blood pressure of every man in the room to fly higher than the dirigible. I was among them.

The Baroness was tall and lithe with dark red hair and that shade of pale skin that the poets might once have called alabaster. Her thin frame sported womanly curves in all the correct places, a fact that her brilliant blue dress showed off to great effect. The dress had a low décolletage, where hung an opal cameo given to her, some say, by King Edward of England himself.

Above all that was arresting about her were her eyes, jade green and shining with humor, set above a thin nose and perfect, bow lips. She laughed as she entered the room alone, as if recalling some past jest.

One of the goat-legged Satyrite stewards, approached her with a note on a tray. He wore a white uniform jacket and an airman’s cap that was perched oddly between his two short, curling horns.

Only human and Satyrite servants staffed the airship, as even though the ship used Helium, it was felt the weight of steambots was prohibitive. It gave the trip an old fashioned charm, despite the ultra-modern feel of the huge aircraft.

The Baroness took the note from the servant, glanced at it and laughed again. A lilting sound that, though not loud, still rang clearly over the constant hum of two 24-horsepower engines moving the airship forward at a cruising speed of thirty miles an hour.

The Baroness turned the power of her smile and her glance across the room, where three extraordinary figures were seated near a large observation port.

One was broad-shouldered and square-jawed, clearly a member of the Prussian Junker class, with a dueling scar on his left cheek and a monocle. His blond hair was close-cropped and his expression was set in a perpetual sneer. His uniform announced his rank as a major.

The second figure was an officious older man with the stoop-shouldered posture of a scholar, with full and bushy sideburns of the type commonly called mutton chops. He had a thick head of silver hair and nervous hands that were constantly moving. His clothing was neat, but clearly that of a civil servant.

Both of the men were focused on the third who sat at their table, a wine glass in his hand. He was younger than both his companions and dressed in the latest fashionable waistcoat and jacket of expensive velvet. His dark, wild hair and a jawline beard framed a handsome, carefree face. His eyes were an unusual amber color, and his smile when he motioned to the Baroness was wide and easy.

The red-haired siren glided across the floor of the room to the table with the three, who rose as one.

“Baroness,” the dark-haired man said. His voice was well-modulated and had a hint of a Russian accent. “So good of you to accept my invitation.” He motioned to an empty seat.

“How could I refuse so gallant an invitation, Your Majesty?” she asked with an ironic tone and a deep curtsey.

“Please, my dear, I am not the King of Andorra here,” the dark-haired man said. “I am simply Boris.”

“Then I shall be simply Gia.” She accepted his hand and sat in the offered seat.

All this was played out for those in the lounge, and every man in the room felt a stab of jealousy of the king of the tiny country. Yet we were on the ship because of King Boris, the first of the Principality of the Valleys of Andorra. The former Russian nobleman had discovered the world’s only deposit of Andorrite beneath estates he had purchased in the tiny country before the close of the Great War. The meteor-delivered crystal was vital to the control steambots at a long distance, making him one of the richest men in the world.

When Andorra declared war on Germany during the Great War, Boris had seized the government of the small country and signed a secret agreement with the Kaiser just weeks before the German Empire won. Thus the Kaiser recognized King Boris the First, and a new dynasty began.

The tiny nation—lodged between Spain and France and barely one hundred and eighty square miles—by virtue of the Andoritte deposits and Boris’ investments—became a major force in the newly-reformed Europe.

The fact that Boris was only in his early thirties and still liked to live a life like King Edward of England—whom he knew well—had when he was the crown prince, made him a cause celeb in all of Europe.

He had just come back from a visit to Vienna to see the opening of the opera season and was homeward bound to Andorra la Vella, his capital city. On board was an entire theatre company bound for the St. Laurent Theatre in the capital. The Baroness Lorenza was the lead actress in that company and the reason I had joined it.

My job was to keep the King of Andorra from falling in love with her!

The Wrath of Leah by G. E. Stills

NEW RELEASE APRIL 1, 2014

The Wrath of Leah by G. E. Stills

#gypsyshadow #fantasy #romance

http://www.amazon.com/The-Wrath-Leah-G-Stills-ebook/dp/B00JEMSPKW

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-wrath-of-leah-g-e-stills/1119058165

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425041

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/GEStills.html#Leah

Her old way of life ended tragically; Leah hopes her new one won't end the same. The Wrath of Leah, a novella by G. E. Stills. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/GEStills.html#Leah

Leah's home has been burned to the ground and a man she once loved has killed her mother. She is taken to a new world, held captive and tortured by a ruthless sorcerer. Jan helps her escape and takes her to his village. The people there look to her for salvation. How can she, a simple woman from Earth with no special abilities, possibly live up to their expectations?

Word Count: 23500

Pages to Print: 80

Price: $3.99

 

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1

Crossing the clearing between her house and the barn where she kept her horses, Leah glanced around. Tall pines surrounded the clearing containing the buildings. Only a slight breeze whispering through the pine needles disturbed the early morning silence. She loved the silence and the solitude her remote location in the mountains provided. The last of the snow had melted away and the first tiny sprigs that would grow to be a riot of beautiful wildflowers had pushed up from the ground to the right of her wooden cabin.

It’s so much different here than in the town fifteen miles away, where I spent my first twenty years.

Leah stepped into her cabin and poured a cup of coffee. As she sat at the table with her hands wrapped around the steaming cup, she thought back to her high school days and specifically, Mike. For two years, they’d dated and made plans for the future, like going to college together. Maybe even living together. Reaching up, she twirled a lock of her chestnut-colored hair, wondering what it would look like next week when she had it cut to off to shoulder length.

Her memories turned once more to Mike. He was an only child and lived with his parents half a mile from her house. She remembered the day as if it had happened yesterday. Mike was supposed to call that Saturday morning and together they would make plans for the senior dance. He didn’t call. By midafternoon, she tired of waiting and called him. The phone rang and rang.

I was worried. He never broke a promise before. The next day, she borrowed her mom’s car and drove to his house. It was vacant. Glancing through the curtainless window, she saw that the room was bare. The front door was unlocked. She strolled through the empty house in disbelief.

She searched, using every means she could think to locate them. Nothing—not a single clue, as if they had dropped off the face of the Earth. She was crushed. The boy who owned her heart had simply vanished.

A few months later, her dad died, killed in a car accident. The two most important men in her life had been ripped away from her in less than six months. She graduated from high school, but delayed entering college. Instead, she moved here to the cabin her parents owned. Pleasant memories from her childhood surrounded her. She begged her mom to come with her, but she refused, remaining behind to work at her job. Her mother, in turn, expressed deep concern that her daughter would be living in the mountains alone.

“I need time to think, to grieve,” Leah explained. “I’ll go to college soon.”

It was still hard for her to fathom—three years had passed. She would be twenty-one next month. She took a sip of coffee. I kept my promise, Mom. I’m enrolled in college. I start this fall.

The crunch of gravel jerked her from her melancholy thoughts and alerted her of visitors. Leah strolled toward the door and answered at the knock. Her mother, Janice, stood framed in the doorway.

“I would’ve called, but I just had to see the expression on your face.”

Leah moved back to let her mother in. “What’s going on, Mom?”

Janice stepped to the side and Leah saw for the first time her mother hadn’t come alone. Her jaw dropped and her knees wobbled when she saw him. His piercing blue eyes, wavy black hair and great physique left no doubt. “Mike?”

“One and the same,” he said.

She wanted to rush into his arms, and at the same time wanted to beat on his chest for never having contacted her over the years.

“I answered the door this morning,” her mother explained, “and there he was.”

Leah stumbled back and sat in her easy chair heavily. “Where have you been?”

“Away.”

“Away! That’s all you can say?”

“Don’t I get a hug and a kiss?”

She wanted to. She wanted to fly into his arms, but at the same time displeasure with his response held her back. “Not until you can give me a better answer for where you’ve been the last three years.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Her displeasure was escalating into anger. He was avoiding her question. “Try me.” Again, she heard the crunch of gravel. Now who?

Car doors slammed and a burly man darkened the doorway. She could see there were two others behind him.

“About time,” Mike snapped.

She glanced at Janice, who looked just as surprised as she felt. She looked up at Mike, waiting for an explanation. His eyes had taken on an iciness that sent a shiver racing through her.

“We got here as quickly as possible, Lothar,” the first man said.

Lothar? Who’s Lothar?

“Is that the bitch?” the man asked, indicating her.

Anger having come to full bloom, Leah sprang to her feet. “I don’t know who you are, but I didn’t invite you into my house and I won’t be called names. Get out! All of you get out. Mike, who are these men?”

He ignored her question. “That’s her, Olaf. The other one is her mother. Secure them both.”

Olaf and one of the men surged at her. The other man angled off toward her mother. Leah fought like a tigress, but the strength and size of the men quickly prevailed. In a short time, plastic ties secured her arms and legs. Olaf ripped a piece from her now-buttonless blouse and shoved it in her mouth, cutting off her swearing. He stood behind her, holding her down in the chair. She glared at Mike for a moment and glanced at her mom. Her arms and legs were also bound.

“We’ll take the witch with us. What about this one?” the man holding her mother asked.

Mike directed his gaze at her. In a voice cold enough to freeze a bonfire, he said, “She’s of no further use. Kill her.”

Leah struggled, attempting to rise, but Olaf held her in place. She watched the third man draw a wicked-looking knife and plunge it into her mother’s heart while holding his hand over her mouth to keep her silent. After twisting it several times, he pulled it free. Leah watched in shock until her mother’s wild bucking and twisting stopped. A spreading stain of blood spread over her green blouse as the older woman twitched. Her head bobbed, and she was gone.

Callously, the man wiped the blade clean on her mother’s clothes.

The gag in her mouth muffled Leah’s choking sobs. Tears stung her eyes. She closed them, attempting in vain to shut out the awful sight of her mother being murdered. Pain lanced through her heart.

The Revenge of the Critches by John Paulits

NEW RELEASE APRIL 1, 2014!

The Revenge of the Critches by John Paulits

#gypsyshadow #childrens #fantasy

http://www.amazon.com/The-Revenge-Critches-Sequel-Mushroom-ebook/dp/B00JEMTP42

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-revenge-of-the-critches-john-paulits/1119058151

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425038

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/JohnPaulits.html#Revenge

The Critches are out for revenge and with Jess Hubbard to help them, they are sure to succeed unless Paul, Billy and Argo can come up with something fast. The Revenge of the Critches, sequel to The Golden Mushroom by John Paulits. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/JohnPaulits.html#Revenge

Things did not stay peaceful long in Shumbus after Paul and Billy’s summer adventure there. The Critches are out for revenge. The Golden Mushroom is in danger and so is the very city where the Shumians have lived forever. With Jess Hubbard planning to help the Critches, they are sure to succeed unless Paul, Billy, and Argo can come up with something fast!

Word Count: 19100

Pages to Print: 76 in PDF

Price: $3.99

EXCERPT:
Chapter One

“Did you fellows hear anything odd last night after you went to bed?” Grandfather Drummond said to his grandson Paul and Paul’s best friend, Billy Sparks.

“Like what, Grandfather?” Paul replied, not much interested.

“Like someone banging things around. I could swear I heard something in the middle of the night.”

“It wasn’t us,” Paul said. “We were asleep.”

“I know it wasn’t you. It seemed to come from across the street.”

Paul and Billy exchanged looks, now very interested.

“You mean your friend’s house?” Paul asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes, but it couldn’t have come from there, could it? Jess Hubbard has been gone all summer, and you say he’s not coming back.”

“That’s what he told us, Mr. Drummond,” Billy chimed in.

“I might have even heard it the night before too, but I was half asleep. I don’t know. If I hear anything tonight, I may just go across the street and have a look. I checked this morning before you two woke up, but nothing’s changed over there. Finish your breakfasts. I’m going out for groceries, and when I get back, we’ll go down to the beach.” Grandfather ruffled his grandson’s hair. “It won’t be long now until your mom comes to pick you up and ships you off to fifth grade.”

Paul and Bill ate quietly, and as soon as Grandfather disappeared, they carried their cereal bowls to the sink.

“We better go look,” Billy suggested.

“My grandfather said he already looked.”

“He doesn’t know what to look for. We do.”

“We do?”

“Of course we do. Let’s go. Don’t waste time. Get the flashlight.”

Paul Drummond and Billy Sparks were spending the summer with Paul’s grandfather at his seashore house in Seaview. An extraordinary adventure had kept the boys busy during the first week of their visit. When Grandfather Drummond’s neighbor and best friend Jess Hubbard disappeared, the boys traced him to an unimaginable place called Shumbus. They had traveled to Shumbus by accidentally tumbling down a mudslide hidden under Jess’s house. The boys had heard nothing of Shumbus; nothing from either Argo, the Shumian they had helped to rescue the Golden Mushroom from the horrible Critches, or from Mr. Hubbard since their return to Seaview.

The boys crossed the street to Jess’s house and went around to the back door. Billy put his hand through the empty window he had broken nearly two months earlier and opened the door.

Paul got a solid kitchen knife from a drawer and knelt in the corner next to the trapdoor which led to the mudslide to Shumbus. He tried to pry the door open, but couldn’t lift it.

“Help me,” he said to Billy.

“What for? You know even if we open it, it’s blocked off with another piece of floor.”

“I’m checking. Get another knife.”

Billy got another knife and tried to help, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“This lifted up last time,” said Paul. “Somebody locked it up good since then.”

“Let’s go out and look underneath,” Billy suggested.

“Wait, Billy, look. The kitchen floor’s way more scratched up than before.”

“What made those scrape marks, you think?” Billy asked softly.

“Something.”

Billy turned to his friend. “Oh, really? Something?”

“Definitely something.”

“Like what kind of something?”

“How do I know? But something.”

“Something. Great. We gotta look underneath. Maybe we’ll see something.”

A space barely large enough for a person to crawl through separated the kitchen floor from the damp ground beneath it.

One small window, also broken by Billy on their first visit, looked into this space.

“Shine the light,” said Billy as both boys knelt and peered into the dark.

Paul aimed the light at the far corner. The muddy hole they’d slid down before looked undisturbed, but the yucky, oozy mud under the house made it hard to tell whether anyone had been there lately or not.

“Look here,” said Paul. He pointed to dried mud stuck to the window frame. Paul touched the mud, and it dropped off in little flakes. “Is this still here from the beginning of summer?”

“I don’t know. That’s a long time ago. The trapdoor wasn’t locked before. Somebody had to be here to lock it. You think maybe somebody held on here to slide himself out from under the house? You think somebody came up from . . .” Billy couldn’t finish his sentence. He and Paul had tried many times to talk about their adventure, but since Argo gave them the special tea to drink, they could say nothing of what happened during those three days in Shumbus, and they could say nothing now.

“I know what you mean,” said Paul. “Let me knock all the mud off.” Paul ran his shirt tail across the edge of the window frame. “If there’s mud here again, we’ll know it happened after today.”

“Good idea. You think maybe Mr. Hubbard came back?” Billy asked.

“I don’t know. If he did, why would he have to sneak around? He could start living in his house again and make some excuse about being away all this time.”

“I guess. Then it has to be someone else.”

“Yeah, but who?”

The boys’ eyes met, but neither had an answer.

“We can’t let your grandfather find out about this,” Billy warned.

“Suppose he hears noises again tonight? He’ll come look, he said. Wait, what’s that?” Paul shone the light on a large, square piece of wooden flooring tossed into a corner of the muddy space beneath the house.

“It looks like the underneath part that blocked the trap door opening before,” Billy cried.

On their first visit at the beginning of the summer, they managed to pull open the trapdoor in the kitchen only to reveal another piece of wooden floor beneath it blocking their way—the piece they now shone their light on.

“Shall we go under?” Billy asked.

“No, we’ll get muddy, and my grandfather’ll want to know how. What if we try to stay awake tonight as long as we can and watch this house?”

“Yeah! We’ll keep watch. We might see . . . something.” Billy cast a nervous glance at his friend. “Let’s get back before your grandfather gets home and asks us where we’ve been.”

The boys hurried across the street.

First Blood/Breaking the Glass Slipper

NEW RELEASE APRIL 1, 2014!

First Blood/Breaking the Glass Slipper by Sarah Deckard

http://www.amazon.com/First-Blood-Breaking-Glass-Slipper-ebook/dp/B00JEMUW30
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/first-blood-breaking-the-glass-slipper-sarah-deckard/1119058205
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425031
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/SarahDeckard.html#FBlood

Galina is Little Red recast as a tormented but resourceful child. This girl will not escape the wolf’s jaws, but she will destroy the true enemy. Cinderella’s daughter, Mathilde, decides to take matters into her own hands after a lifetime of watching her father, King Dorian, beat her mother. Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, other fine eBook vendors and Gypsy Shadow Publishing at:
http://www.gypsyshadow.com/SarahDeckard.html#FBlood

Galina’s father disappeared years earlier while out hunting. Her mother and she are left poor and grieving. She is constantly teased by the village children. Her grandmother has been sick lately. Galina’s mother sends her into the woods to tend “Babushka.” On the path, she meets a hunter who says he is looking for wolves. Is this story beginning to sound familiar? Perhaps, but things are not always as they appear. This girl is cunning and brave. This hunter is an enemy. And though Babushka may turn out to be a wolf in disguise, this story will not turn out to be what is expected. Join Galina on her journey into a nightmare under the Blood God Moon and through the story’s twists to an unexpected ending in which her grandmother may save her far more than she will save her grandmother.

Everyone knows the story of Cinderella, at least the first half. Hear the rest of the tale as told by Mathilde, the fourteen year old daughter of Queen Arabella (a.k.a. Cinderella). She and her younger brother Seth have grown up witnessing their father abuse their mother both physically and emotionally. Over time, Seth starts to succumb to the same outbursts of cruelty he has internalized from watching his father. Princess Mathilde is desperate to stop the cycle of violence from being passed down to her brother—the future king. She sets in motion a desperate plan to save her broken family. And with a little help from a familiar fairy guardian, she just might succeed.

Word Count: 10200
Pages to Print: 34
Price: $3.99 

EXCERPT:
First Blood

The girls in the village used to call me Chucha Krásniy, or Little Red as a joke because I always wore the same burgundy woolen cloak.

“It’s red like blood,” they said. “Did you bleed on it?” Then they’d all laughed, though I didn’t know why.

“No,” I told them. “My mother made the dye for me because red is the color I like best.”

True, my cloak was old and had dark stains which wouldn’t wash out because I had worn it so often. It was my only cloak, which showed how poor Mama and I were. Ever since Papa went out to hunt last winter and never came home, we had not had enough to eat. So there was no money for a new cloak.

My face felt hot. I thought the other children found it funny that I couldn’t afford new clothes. They must have thought because I was poor I was dirty, too. So I said, “I have never bled on any of my clothes.”

“Never bled, never bled,” they chanted.

And sometimes one of the older girls would snicker. “Well, you will soon.”

Then they all scattered like a flock of geese as I charged into them, my hands in fists, saying, “I’ll make you bleed first. You see if I don’t.”

When this first happened, I went home to my mother and told her what the other girls had said. I asked her why they were so cruel to me. “Don’t the poor deserve kindness like everyone else?”

Mama’s face scrunched up like it does when I come home covered in pine needles and mud stains. I thought she was going to yell at me, but she continued to stir the soup without saying anything for many moments.

Then she told me, “The children are not laughing because your clothes are old.” Her voice was serious and a little sad. She did not go on.

So I asked, “Then why do they ask if I bleed on my clothes?”

“Because women bleed,” she said, her voice hard and sharp like the edge of a knife. She looked into the steam as if she saw something far away there.

I asked her what she meant.

“Galina,” she said, her voice soft as wool now. “When you become a woman, you will understand. But you are only ten now and can still afford to be a child. Don’t listen to what the older girls say. There is more than one way a person can bleed. Go play now. You will find out what kind of blood they mean in time.”

As I left the cottage, I knew she was thinking about Papa, because I was. Our hearts bled; he was gone forever. After I had closed the door, I could hear my mama crying inside. I went into the woods to sit alone and think about what she had said.

*****
That happened three years ago. Now I knew what kind of blood the other girls meant. But I still had not bled the woman’s blood. Mother said it was getting to be past time for me to have it. Yet I could not bring it on, any more than I could stop the bleeding in my heart for my father’s loss and for my mother’s sorrow. I still had the red cloak, which the children teased me about. My body was small for my age so the cloak fit, even though it was too short to look proper. It had become very stained by then, and worn through in places. We couldn’t afford extra fabric to make patches to cover the holes. Nor did we have old clothes we could spare to cut into patches.

So I wore my old cloak to spread seeds for the geese and gather their eggs. When I slopped our hog, the muck of it sloshed onto my now brownish-red cloak, which was covered in bits of fur from tending our goats. Dirt stains came from sitting on the ground, weeding our little garden. And, as always, little threads got pulled and balled up from blackberry thorns and pine bark as I gathered the fruits and nuts among them.

For almost a month, I had been visiting my babushka, who lived in the woods a half day’s travel from the village. She had been sick with some mysterious illness. My mother charged me with her care. So I took her herbs, eggs, goat cheese, and milk. I couldn’t tell exactly what was wrong with her, and she would not say. But she felt warm to the touch and she acted different. She asked me each time I visited to bring her meat, even though she knew Mama couldn’t afford any. Babushka told me to slaughter the sow; but she was to give birth soon. It wasn’t yet autumn—the time to butcher the suckling pigs and cure their meat for the winter. Babushka had eaten her own geese already, as well as her goat. I wondered how she would have any eggs or milk besides what I brought her. She was almost too old, and certainly too sick, to go out in the woods and hunt for wild carrots, leeks, pine nuts, and other plants to eat. I worried for her.

She also talked of Papa.

“Viktor,” she said, “he hunts deer, rabbit, squirrel, sometimes even bear. But it is no good, not enough. I need more meat, sweet Galina, to keep up my strength.”