A very clever parrot sings the Italian National Anthem. Many thanks to Sally for finding this gem.
To listen, click the button below.
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bramble, the dog
I don’t usually interview animals, but today I’m welcoming a dog to my blog. Rather than ask him questions, I think I’ll allow him the freedom to tell you about himself in his own words.
Hi. My name’s Bramble and I’m a dog.
I’m quite a big dog. At least I’m bigger than the others I lived with. I’m what humans call black and tan.
I live in the pages of a book, or rather, a series of books, called The Wolves of Vimar, and you’ll meet me first in book 1, The Wolf Pack.
Let’s get back to me and my life.
After Borolis came and took me from my mother, I cried. I cried quite a lot. He took me to his farm where I met three other dogs, his wife and three children.
His wife, a kind woman, was called Elpin and they had three children, twin boys called Krom and Voldon, and a sweet little girl called Amerilla. I loved that little girl. She was kind to a frightened, lonely puppy.*looks sad*
I learned about the smells on the farm: which belonged to the other farm animals and which were enemies’ scents. There were wolves that tried to take the larger animals, and foxes that would try to get the hens. The big dogs chased them off. Sometimes a big bird, called an eagle, tried to pick up a lamb. Those big birds scared me when I was little. One of them could easily carry me off and eat me.
Once, Nettle, a large black dog, who led the pack, managed to catch and kill a fox. It didn’t taste good when we tried to eat it, though.
My humans smelled good. Borolis smelled of fields and hay. There was also a lingering smell of horse about him. Elpin smelled of cooking and kindness, while the twins smelled almost the same as each other. I can’t tell you why, but their scent reminded me of adventure and fun.
But Amerilla—ah, little Rilla, as they called her—she was special. She had a light scent. Candles, sugar, spices. I loved that little girl. *whine*
The other two dogs, another black, called Bracken, and a black and white one called Bandit, all obeyed Nettle. He was fierce if they didn’t give him priority, and showed his teeth.
I didn’t cross him either, even though I was now bigger than him. He could be scary.
One day, I went to the water trough for a drink. As I drank, Nettle approached and growled at me to let him drink first. I was thirsty and ignored him, so he attacked me.
He knocked me from the trough and stared at me. I stared back, and began to growl. He walked stiff-legged in my direction, growling in response to my growl. I could smell the aggression coming from him, and knew he meant to put me in my place, once and for all.
Once he was bigger than me, but now I’d grown. I leaped at him and bit his ear. Blood flowed as his ear tore. He tried to bite my neck, but I grabbed his jaw and held on.
I shook his head from side to side, and he began to make puppy noises. That didn’t affect me. I knew this was a fight for leadership in our little pack. He’d bullied me for long enough.
I bit harder, and tasted blood. It tasted like iron horseshoes smelled.
I released my grip and tried to grab his neck, but was too slow. He managed to bite me in my shoulder as I dodged, and I felt blood trickling through my fur.
Then I leaped and got him onto the ground. I seized his neck and shook. I didn’t want to kill him. Not really, but I would have done so if necessary. He whined again. I don’t think the other dogs had ever challenged him and he didn’t like this fight that was going against him.
He rolled onto his back in surrender. I walked away, back to the trough and took a drink, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
He slunk away to wait until I’d finished before slaking his own thirst.
It was then I knew I was now leader of the farm dogs.
I believe I was a good alpha male.
This was my life until I ended up with the group of people who call themselves Wolf. Wolves have very little to do with it, but this group of humans decided to call themselves Wolf for some reason.
I made a brief appearance in The Wolf Pack, but I didn’t think that was enough for a dog like me, and so I told the author, V.M.Sang, I thought I should have more to do.
She kindly added me to the second book, and I’m also in the third. I’m hoping to be in the fourth, too, although at the moment she seems to be more concerned with a stupid, irresponsible little dragonet, called Muldee. If I could catch him, I’d chew him up a bit.
I think Muldee also asked her if he could have a bigger role than the one he had in Book 1. She’s too soft with these characters, if you ask me. She also let in Grimmaldo, who’s a friend of Carthinal, and someone who didn’t even appear in Book 1! Called The Cat, of all things. That’s something I’d never want to call myself.
You can find out more about Wolf, and why they call themselves that by reading The Wolf Pack.
You can buy it from Amazon in a variety of formats, including Audio.
V.M. tells me that if you click on the link below, it will take you to Amazon wherever you are. Sounds very clever to me. How does it know where you are?
Thank you, Bramble. It was good to have you here on my blog.
I would love to hear your opinions. Please leave any comments in the comments box.
Would you like an exclusive short story? Of course you would! Who’d not want a free story? To get your copy, click the box below. This story will not be published anywhere else, so this is the only way of getting it.
coming soon dreams of an elf maid
I’ve received the cover design for the latest book in my Wolves of Vimar prequels.
This one tells us about Asphodel and how she became a priestess of Sylissa, goddess of life and healing.
Asphodel is a young, naive elf maid. She falls in love with a handsome elf and, when her parents suggest an arranged marriage with a man much her senior, the pair run away.
Of course, things go wrong. Her lover can’t find a job in the city where they find themselves. He gets in with the wrong crowd and becomes addicted to a drug made from powdered dragon scales.
When he tries to take her jewellery to buy more drugs, she refuses and he hits her. She then realises this will not work and she leaves him, catching a caravan heading for the land of Grosmer.
She has a strong sense of right and wrong, and a steely determination, and this gets her into trouble more than once. Can she achieve her dream of becoming a priestess and helping others, or will she be banished from the temple?
Here’s an extract to whet your appetite.
CHAPTER 1
“Aspholessaria!” called the young elf’s mother, “Are you going out?”
“I’m meeting Syssillina, Mother. There’s a new place opened across the other side of Quantissarillishon. It’s called Allimissoro’s and we’ve heard it’s fantastic. We’re going to suss it out.”
“I do wish you’d refrain from using slang words, dear. So common. Don’t forget we’re related to the Elf Lord.”
“Only distantly, Mother,” Aspholessaria skipped out through the door to meet her friend. “I don’t expect he’ll hear about it so don’t worry.”
A few minutes later the two girls were running towards the new bar and dance hall especially opened for young folk. The youngsters had little to do in Quantissarillishon and some of them became a little unruly from time to time.
“My cousin, Gerralishirondo, went last night. He says it’s real cool,” Syssillina said as they trotted across the capital city of Rindissillaran, the land of the elves. “He says there were elves playing music, and everyone was up and dancing.”
“It sounds amazing.” Aspholessaria grinned at her friend. “Did he say how far it is?”
“Oh, Asphodel.” Syssillina used the elf’s diminutive name. “I told you it’s only a few trees over. Well, perhaps a bit more than that, but only about half a mile.”
The elves built their city of Quantissarillishon deep in the forest. Many who visited it for the first time did not know they had arrived. The elves had built some of their buildings into the trees themselves with knotholes as windows. Walkways stretched from tree to tree. To anyone not looking up it would seem there was nothing but forest.
The girls trotted along these walkways, passing residences and workshops, until they arrived at a building that stretched over the branches of several large oaks. Music and laughter came from out of the open doors. The girls stopped and looked at each other.
Asphodel took a breath. “Well, we’ve come, so we might as well go in.”
She matched her actions to her words and Syssillina followed.
Lanterns wreathed the room and gave a festive air to the surroundings. Seats surrounded small tables, most of which had young elves sitting and chattering. A dance floor occupied the centre of the room with a number of young folk dancing to the music.
The girls looked around. Syssillina noticed an empty table close to the band. They made their way to it and sat to claim the seats. Syssillina got them fruit juice from the bar and they sat sipping their drinks and listening to the music.
“Isn’t that Llinisharrovno over there?” Asphodel whispered. She named a young man who had been at school with them. “Who’s that with him? I’ve not seen him before.”
Syssillina looked to where Asphodel pointed. “Yes. I’ve not seen Llin for a long time. His friend’s hot, don’t you think?”
The girls started to giggle, but stopped quickly as Asphodel noticed the pair looking at them. The two young men smiled and walked toward them.
“Are they coming to us?” Asphodel looked at her drink.
“I don’t know. There’s a group of girls at the next table. I expect they’re going to them.”
But they weren’t. They came and stood in front of Asphodel and Syssillina.
“I’ve not seen you two since we left school,” Llinsharrovno said. “Where’ve you been hiding yourselves?”
“Don’t forget, you live at the opposite side of the city from us,” Syssillina said. “We’ve not been hiding. We don’t get over there very much.”
Llinsharrovno sat down on an empty seat. “This is my cousin, Vassinamorro. Vass, this is Aspholessaria, known as Asphodel, and Syssillina, known as Syssi.”
The other young man pulled a chair over and sat. His smile made Asphodel’s stomach turn over. He had blue eyes and blonde hair and was tall for an elf, being five feet ten. He had the build of one who looked after his body.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m new to Quantissarillishon. Llin has been showing me round. It’s a beautiful city, but it pales into insignificance next to the beauty of its girls.”
Both girls blushed and muttered their thanks for the compliment.
“Can I get you a drink?” Llin stood.
The girls accepted and as he walked away, Vass asked Asphodel if she would like to dance. She accepted and he escorted her to the dance floor, putting a guiding arm on the small of her back. Asphodel’s heart began to pound.
Vass danced as gracefully as a dragon in flight and Asphodel felt she had wings on her feet, he was so easy to dance with. When his hand touched hers, baby dragons began to dance in her stomach, and she thought she would melt into his blue eyes. Her black hair flew around her head as he twisted and turned her in the dance. He lifted her up and swung her around and she gasped in surprise, which made him laugh.
The dance ended and they returned to their seats.
Llin danced with Syssi, then with Asphodel as Vass danced with Syssi. Asphodel watched them as they danced, treading on Llin’s feet a few times, but he laughed.
“My cousin has that effect on women,” he whispered in her ear the fifth time she missed a beat and trod on his toes. “I wish I had his looks and charm.”
The girls danced with Vass and Llin all evening, the two young men taking turns to dance with both of them. It grew dark. Time stood still while they talked and danced.
The master of ceremonies announced the last dance. Vass handed Asphodel onto the dance floor one last time as the slow music began. He pulled her close as they shuffled around the floor. All too soon the music stopped and the young people prepared to depart.
They left the building together. The lights that had lit it up so brightly were going out one by one and the few lamps on the walkways gave only a little light.
“I don’t like the idea of you walking alone in the dark,” Vass said. “May we walk the two of you home?”
The girls agreed and the four young people wended their way through the treetop walkways to the girls’ homes.
“Will you be going to Alli’s again?” Vass asked as they stood outside Asphodel’s home. The venue had become known as Alli’s to all that went there.
The girls looked at each other. Asphodel had to restrain herself from replying too quickly. She would certainly go again if Vass were going to be there.
“What do you think, Syssi? Should we go again?” Asphodel asked.
“I think we should give it another go. I enjoyed myself tonight. The music was excellent and the drinks. They’ve done wonders with the decor too.”
Vass looked at both girls in turn. “Perhaps we’ll see you there another time.”
The two young men left the girls, walked a few paces and turned to wave.
Asphodel entered her home and crept up the stairs to her bedroom. She threw herself on her bed, smiling, then she turned on her stomach and groaned.
Does he like me? Does he like Syssi better than he likes me? Oh, I can’t tell who he likes better.
She thought of the way he looked into her grey eyes when they danced and her stomach turned again. She thought one minute he liked her best, then the next she thought of how he had looked at Syssi and decided he liked Syssi best. With her thoughts in turmoil, she fell asleep.
Asphodel spent the next few days in confusion. Her mother reprimanded her several times for forgetting little things. “Really, Aspholessaria. Anyone would think you were in love. What’s wrong with you?” Her father laughed. “Perhaps she is in love. She’s at that age.” Her mother turned to her husband. “She’s of House Royal. She can’t be allowed to fall in love. She will need to marry someone suitable.”
Am I in love?
She wandered into the city. She had an errand to do for her mother anyway, but she found her steps taking her on a detour past where Llin lived. As she passed his house, the two young men came out.
“Asphodel,” Vass called. “I’m glad we’ve seen you. Are you and Syssi going to Alli’s tonight? Llin and I are, and I’d very much like it if you were there too.”
“I don’t know. I’ve not seen Syssi for a couple of days. I’ll go and ask her when I’ve done the jobs Mother wants me to do.”
Syssi agreed to go to Alli’s that evening to meet the two young men. Asphodel was still in confusion. Vass had said he would like it if they were there, but did he mean her, Syssi or both of them?
Later that evening, it became apparent that Vass’s interest was in Asphodel. He danced with her all evening and hardly took his eyes from her when they were not dancing. That evening he walked her home without the accompaniment of Syssi and Llin, who walked home separately.
Halfway to Asphodel’s home, their hands touched. Asphodel’s stomach turned over again as Vass took her hand in his. They walked along in silence, each happy in the other’s company.
The world around them had vanished. There was only Vass in the world as far as Asphodel was concerned.
All too soon the walk ended and they stood outside Asphodel’s home. Vass put a finger under her chin, lifted her face and bent his head to kiss her. When his lips met hers, she thought she would faint with pleasure.
The kiss seemed to go on forever, but finished all too soon. Asphodel leaned against Vass’s chest and he held her close.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. I wish we could stay like this for always.”
Asphodel sighed and her practical side came to the fore. “So do I, Vass, but my mother will be wondering where I am. I’m afraid I must go in.”
Vass bent his head once more and delivered a passionate kiss on Asphodel’s mouth. He stood and watched as she walked up the ramp leading to her home in the trees.
Asphodel and Syssi’s visits to Alli’s became more frequent over the next few months. She did not deliberately keep her relationship with Vass secret from her parents; she just never bothered to tell them. It didn’t seem important they should know.
She was engrossed in her growing relationship with Vass. That was all that seemed important to the girl. He was kind and attentive and always complimented her on how she looked.
Twice a week she and Sissi went to Alli’s and met the two young men. This went on for two months. They danced and talked amongst the lights and music of the venue.
One evening, as they stood on the balcony of Alli’s, Vass turned to Asphodel and kissed her. An owl hooted in the tree next to them and he smiled.
Turning to Asphodel he said, “We always seem to meet where there are others, Aspho. Let’s go somewhere we can be on our own, Just the two of us”
“I’d like that. Just the two of us.”
“Are you busy tomorrow? We could go for a walk. Perhaps out of the city.”
Asphodel smiled at him, her grey eyes dancing. “I’m not going anywhere tomorrow afternoon. Yes, let’s do that.”
The following afternoon, the sun shone and it was warm, being nearly midsummer. They sat outside the city next to the river that flowed through it. A tree had fallen long ago and its trunk lay across the clearing it had made.
They sat on the trunk, dangling their feet in the water to cool them. The river burbled along, ignoring everything except it’s own journey. Birds hopped from branch to branch, calling to each other. A pair of turtledoves sat on a tree close by preening each other.
“Look at them.” Vass pointed to the birds “They’re in love.”
The male flew up and called his coo-hoo-hoo-hooo before landing next to his mate and beginning their preening again.
“Like I love you, Aspho.” He leaned over and kissed her.
She closed her eyes and felt as if she were flying with the doves. Once more, time stood still.
They talked and kissed and kissed and talked until Asphodel decided she had better return home before it became dark.
The pair continued meeting other than at Alli’s and took frequent walks in the land outside the city. If her mother thought anything, she assumed her daughter was out with Sissi somewhere.
As soon as I know when the book will be released, I’ll let you know, but I’m quite excited about it.
Did you enjoy this extract? I would love to know. Tell me by writing in the comments box. And feel free to reblog if you wish.
I have an exclusive short story for you. It’s called The Haunted Table.
When Maria and Jack move into a 16th century house, they wish to furnish it with period furniture and so they buy a table from that century.
That night, Maria hears a strange crying sound. On investigation, she finds it is coming from the table.
Fearing it might be haunted, and that they’ve brought a ghost into their home, they turn to a medium, only to find it isn’t a ghost.
If not a ghost, then what? The truth is stranger than either of them could have imagined.
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Jealousy of a Viking ~ #Historical Norse & Icelandic Fiction ~ @vm_sang ~#Review
Thanks to Anita Dawes for this great review.
Our Thoughts
This unusual medieval story of one woman’s quest for love, reminded me of so many other star-crossed lovers throughout history. The author has cut away most of the myths surrounding the Vikings, revealing their wisdom and their beliefs. A far cry from the blood thirsty tribes we see all the time on TV.
a review of a chilling revelation by paul cude
Overview.
This is the second book in Paul Cude’s White Dragon series. It follows on after the events in book 1.
If you’ve not read any of his books before, I will tell you that the concept is an original one.
Dragons live below the ground in a complex society. They have houses, monorails and many other things we have. The one thing they can do which we can’t is use magic.
Dragons use this magic in order to protect and help humankind. In order to do this, they take human form and live amongst us.
Blurb
Treachery from the sands of Egypt to the plains of Antarctica.
Following on from the harrowing events of ‘A Threat From The Past’ (Book 1), a new found friendship with the dragon king is forged.
Soon though, young and old alike are unwittingly drawn into a deadly plot, when a straight forward meeting with the monarch sees them helping an injured dragon agent, straight back from his mission in Antarctica with news of a devastating encounter with another ancient race.
Blackmail, intrigue, forbidden love interests, a near fatal mantra gone wrong, a highly charged rugby match in which Tank takes a beating, combined with enough laminium ball action to please dragons the world over, stretch the bonds of the dragons’ friendship like never before.
New friends and ancient enemies clash as the planet braces itself for one of the most outrageous attacks it has ever seen.
Lost secrets and untold lore come to light, while sinister forces attempt to steal much coveted magic.
Explosive exploits, interspersed with a chilly backdrop and unexpected danger at every turn, make for an action-packed, electrifying adventure.
Story
The tale begins in the distant past, with an exciting chase. A dragon, in human form is trying to help prevent a meeting between Ptolomy and Alexander the Great, for the good of Humanity.
We then learn that this is a story being told to young dragons in the ‘nursery ring’.
Peter, Tank and Ritchie, from Book 1, are again featured.
Peter has struck up a friendship with the dragon king after he visits with Peter in the hospital at the end of Book 1. He and his friends are invited to visit the king. While they are there, some terrible news breaks and they become involved in solving a dastardly plot from Antarctica.
The story was exciting, especially at the end.
Characters
Peter, although the main character in the story, is the least well-drawn. He has very few outstanding characteristics. He’s a ‘nice’ young man. He works for Croptech, a company involved in the production of the metal, laminium, that is very important in the dragon world. Here, he is in charge of security.
Tank, on the other hand, is a kind-hearted dragon. He does seem to have more about him than Peter, especially when he stands up to his boss. He works in a shop selling and researching spells (called mantra).
The last of the trio is Ritchie. She is a feisty young woman, and often gets herself into trouble for ignoring rules.
Tank’s boss, Tee Gee is my favourite character and the most well-drawn. He is an ancient, irascible dragon who hides a kind heart beneath a grumpy exterior.
In this book, we are introduced to Flash, a member of the King’s Crimson Guard, an elite force. In many ways, Flash is an innocent of human and dragon society, having spend much of his life working alone.
Writing
Sadly, like the first book, the writing leaves much to be desired. Mr Cude hops from head to head. One minute we’re looking at the world from Peter’s point of view, then the next from, say, Ritchie. On at least one occasion, he changes viewpoint in the middle of a sentence.
Many of his paragraphs are overlong. I assume he got carried away with the story.
There are occasional wrong words used.
He seems to think the readers have poor memories, and he keeps reminding us that dragons have eidetic memories, that Ritchie, is small, etc.
And the sports. There were 31 pages devoted to a hockey match at one point. This match was not essential for the plot, nor did it add anything to our knowledge of the characters. I skipped it.
One final thing that I found irritating was Mr Cude’s seeming reluctance to tell us who a chapter was about until at least a page and a half in, using the pronouns, ‘he’ and ‘she’.
I got the impression that Mr Cude got to the end of the book, wrote The End, sighed with relief and pressed ‘Publish’ without reading it through again.
Conclusion
This was an excellent, and exciting story. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but the writing lets it down. This is a pity. My feelings about the series are mixed. I want to know what happens next (this book ended with a cliffhanger), but will I be able to cope with the amateurish writing?
I’m giving it 4*, in spite of the writing, because it’s a good story.
Again
A moving piece by Andrew Joyce. One that should teach us all something the world seems to have forgotten.
I went off to war at the tender age of sixteen. My mother cried and begged me to stay, but my country needed me. I would not see my mother again for four very long years.
Due to my age, I was assigned to field headquarters as a dispatch courier for the first two years of the war. However, by the beginning of the third year, I had grown a foot taller and was shaving. And because men were dying at an alarming rate, I was sent into the trenches.
They say that war is hell. I say hell is peaceful compared to living in a muddy trench with bombs exploding around you at all hours of the day and night, although there were periods of respite from the shelling. Those were the hours when the enemy had to let their big guns cool or else the heat of firing would warp them. I lived like that for two years.
I was at Verdun where I saw the true hell of war. After eleven months, we fought to a standstill. When the dead were counted, almost a million men from both sides had given their lives and not one inch of ground had been gained.
By November of 1918, we were out of food, out of ammunition, and almost out of men to send to the slaughter. The people at home had had enough of seeing their sons and fathers and brothers shipped home in boxes. There were marches and protests against the war. Near the end, the dead were not even sent home, but buried in the fields where they had fallen.
At last, the war was over. I am told that nine million men died in those four years, and another twenty million were wounded. I was there and those numbers seem a little low to me, but what do I know? I was only a private.
Caturday funnies
Simon’s Cat, courtesy of Bluebird of Bitterness.
Simon’s cat tries to catch a fish.
To watch, click on the button.
a visit from david kummer
Today I’m delighted to welcome my friend David Kummer to my blog. David and I met a few years ago when we read and critiqued one another’s works. I’ve read and reviewed several of David’s books and consider him to be a young man to watch for the future.
Hi, David. And Welcome to Dragons Rule OK. I’ve read your latest book, Everything Somewhere and consider it your best to date, although in a very different genre from your others.
My first question is, will there be a sequel?
This is a tough question to answer right now. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, as I move into my next book projects, and I do think I want to write a sequel. However, I think that will probably be five or ten years down the road. At that point, I’ll have more life experience and better understanding of what it means to go through your mid-20’s. I’d love to catch up with these characters and find out what they’ve been up to. So, yes, I really do expect there to be a sequel, but you’ll have to wait a while for it. In the meantime, I’ve written and will keep on writing other books, so check them out!
As I said before, this is a very different type of book from you others. What inspired you to write this?
This book is the most personal I’ve ever written, because it draws a lot on my personal experiences and those of people I’ve known. The characters are a mixture of people I’ve known and have heard stories about. I was also inspired to write it because I wanted to tackle the darker side of being a teenager and growing up through high school, things like mental illness, substance abuse, suicide, relating to parents. All subjects that are real and important, and that I think we don’t talk about enough. So this book did a lot of things I think are important, all of which made it very personal for me to write and publish, but people have loved it! That’s made this a very special book already, and I’m so thrilled about what’s happened with it.
There are a number of interesting characters in this book. Who is your favorite?
Willow has grown into my favorite character from the novel, which I didn’t expect when I started writing it. She’s been a source of inspiration for me to push through writing it and is a combination of a lot of people I know. Certain aspects of her strength and tenacity and integrity I drew from my mom, who the book is dedicated to. Willow also has this ability to see the town as it was, as it is, and as it could be in the future, making her an important character for not only the readers but also all the other figures in the book. In short, she makes the novel what it is, and she’s remained my favorite character throughout.
Can you tell us a bit about Willow?
I think WIllow is the best one to tell you about herself. At the end of Everything Somewhere, she finds herself pregnant. She has married Mason, her child’s father, and this is an extract from a bonus chapter I wrote.
Willow
We left shoe prints in the dirt, still damp from recent storms. The three of us, ambling between the trees, our voices free and our laughter wild. Hudson had a cigarette between two fingers and would raise it to his lips absentmindedly, between one-line stories or well-intentioned jabs at Mason. My husband stayed close to me, his hand clutching my own. We’d been married just under a month, and it still felt weird to call him that.
But his fingers were my only warmth against the biting, March wind, and I sank into his touch.
“I’m not smoking ‘til after the baby comes,” Mason replied when Hudson offered him one.
“I told you it’s fine, babe.” I rolled my eyes but squeezed his hand with affection. “Obviously, I can’t, but you can. Who cares.”
Hudson took another breath of his cigarette and exhaled behind us. The smoke drifted back the way we’d come, up toward the leaves, as our trio moved farther along the trail. He eyed me, questioning something, and I understood.
“Maybe I’ll stay off ‘em forever,” I said, granting him a relaxed shrug.
Hudson snorted. “Fat chance of that. I’m not the only addict here.” He grinned at me, and I smiled back.
We were headed to one of my favorite hideaway spots in downtown Little Rush. Perfect for any time of the year, any state of mind. I’d taken long walks there on my own, for years and years, spent countless hours in the shadow of those tall trees. The three of us had been here a few times before, though not often, and I figured today was as good as any. Our work schedules were so full now, it wasn’t easy to find a day where we could be together, doing nothing. But it had, at last, arrived, and so I led them to my once-secret spot.
There weren’t too many places in downtown Little Rush where I could exist for hours without encountering a single human. But this little grove of trees, right alongside the Ohio River, was the perfect spot of solitude. From my dad’s apartment, I walked straight down to the bricks winding beside the river, and turned my back on the bridge. Then, I would follow that sidewalk until it abruptly ended, meshing with the railroad tracks, at the end of the street. There were walking trails leading away, following the tracks, and they could take you all the way up the hillside, if you wanted. But I didn’t want that. I would simply step off the path, through a thick arrangement of bushes, and emerge on the other side into a different world.
The ground dropped a few feet there, as I climbed through the shrubbery, and it felt like I had disappeared into a place nobody even knew of. The trees were tall and thick, but sparse. It didn’t feel as enclosed or dark as a typical forest. And the river swept by on one side, bumping up against some of the trunks, turning the hardened dirt into squelching mud under my feet. From the railroad tracks I’d left behind, no hikers could even hope to see down here, unless they followed. And very few did.
That expanse of dried mud and fallen leaves became a comfortable place for me. I would wander deeper into the trees, which stood around like the crowd at an amusement park when all the rides are closed. Dancing my way through their shadows and touching their rough trunks, I found an area of large stones where I could sit and soak my feet in the water. As the Ohio flowed by, its touch loving and familial, I looked across at the banks of Kentucky or to the right, where the river curled around a jutting hill and disappeared out of sight. There was a large, wooden structure near my spot, sticking out of the water, like it might’ve been support for a dock, long ago. Down that direction, I could make out the power plant, and often a barge in the distance.
A line of trees behind me. The river in front, stretched out, endless. The rolling hills of Kentucky, like staring into a mirror, with beautiful, leaf canopies glowing in the sunlight or waving in the breeze. This place felt like a step back in time, like a setting all its own. Nobody could find me here. Nobody could shatter this mirage.
“How many weeks are you out now?” Hudson asked. He continued to work on the cigarette, nearing the end of it now.
Mason stumbled over a root and we chuckled about that for a moment. Just a few minutes now and we’d reach that sacred spot next to the river, with large rocks meant for seating and small, rippling waves that brought in plastic cans, bits of floating wood, and an assortment of little fish. They would swim right under the surface, as if putting on a show, and I would stare at them more intently than anything else.
“Due in just over two weeks,” I answered Hudson once Mason had regained his balance. “Before you know it…” I placed a hand on my protruding stomach, though he didn’t kick in response.
“What happens if he comes on St. Patrick’s Day?” Hudson asked, a glint in his eye. “You have to dye his hair green. That’s just a rule.”
“Shut up! God, can you imagine?” I covered my hand with a mouth, laughing. The image of a green-haired baby, my baby, was almost too much. “I feel bad for your kids, if you ever have some.”
Hudson chuckled at this and blew one last cloud of smoke into the air. Then he ground out the cigarette butt on a passing tree.
“Speaking of…” Mason jumped into the conversation. “When’s the wedding? For you and Layla?”
Hudson stuffed both hands into the pockets of his jacket, throwing an exasperated look at Mason. “Whatever. It’s only been a few dates.” The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes gleamed with something like mischief. “But… we are going on a weekend trip this summer, up near Indy. Brown County, you know. It’s kinda crazy. Did you know when I first met her, I gave her a handshake?”
Mason burst out laughing and Hudson smacked himself on the forehead. “I’m such a dumbass.”
This news about him and Layla made my heart skip a beat. I smiled at Hudson, imagining him and her, off in a cabin somewhere, a place all to themselves. I wondered if they’d go to college in the fall, if they’d go together, but I didn’t want to pry. Hudson deserved a peaceful, relaxing summer with a girlfriend and a future. I hoped he would really soak it in, before everything started to change at a relentless pace. Then again, maybe we were too late and things already had.
“Oohh.” Mason winked at me. “That’s the first step, right, babe?”
“We’ve got big plans this summer, too,” I said to Hudson, ignoring Mason’s question.
Read the rest at: https://davidkummer.com/2021/07/17/bonus-chapter-everything-somewhere/
Thank you, David. I can thoroughly recommend Everything Somewhere to everyone. I found it an engrossing read.
For everyone, here’s a bit more about it.
The power of memories.
Little Rush is a sleepy town on the Ohio River. Bruce Michaels is a renowned Hollywood actor. The two should never cross paths, yet one summer everything changes. The actor, haunted by demons, chasing a ghost. The town, unaware. Until the two collide.
Hudson, Willow, and Mason are high school seniors with very different upbringings, but all on the verge of adulthood. As the sun sets on their final summer, questions abound. Will they ever leave the town? Is there a future here? As their plans waver, time is running out.
The struggle of mental illness.
As he loses his friends and sinks deeper into depression, Hudson forms an unlikely bond with the actor, Bruce Michaels. But the old man is a ticking time bomb. As Hudson relies on him more, the danger to them both grows.
When dark secrets are revealed, Hudson must confront the truth about his idol and himself. Bruce Michaels isn’t who he seems. Hudson is nearly lost. And in the end, they may be more similar than different.
The search for meaning.
Different paths, converging in a web of alcohol, fights, and romance. Worlds collide one summer in Anywhere, USA. The question is who will make it through.
EVERYTHING, SOMEWHERE is an ambitious, sprawling look at the stories, people, and places forming the nuanced landscape of rural America.
And a review.
Theresajcbs
5.0 out of 5 stars Must read
Reviewed in Canada on 3 June 2021
Verified Purchase
This book takes you deep into the souls of it’s characters. You feel their longing, pain, wonder and joys. Anyone whose lived in a small town will instantly relate to their need for escape. It touches on depression and substance abuse, but also how it feels to grow up and what changes transpire for the adults who also grew up and stayed in the small town.
The prose is stunningly beautiful and nostalgic and worth reading over and over.
You can purchase the book by following this link which will take you to Amazon.com. Amazon.com : everything somewhere by david kummer
Not one, but 2 books!
Apologies for being a day late with this information. I’ve just got back from holiday this morning!
From now until 29th July you can get the ebook version of Wolf Moon, Book 3 of The Wolves of Vimar, AND The Stones of Fire and Water, book 2 of Elemental Worlds for a mere 0.99 (£ or $).
Don’t miss this opportunity.
You can get the books by clicking on the title, or the cover in the sidebar.
The Stones of Fire and Water is also available as an audio book, and both are available in multiple formats. Just click the link to go to Amazon where you are.
And here is the blurb:
WOLF MOON
The group called Wolf has been enlisted into the Erian Army against their will, and they soon learn that an invasion is planned into their homeland of Grosmer.
As the heroes make their escape, they accidentally stumble upon an old Dwarven city, and become friends with them.
Facing enemies on all sides, the five must find where their loyalties lie, and save their homeland from certain destruction.
To give you a taste, here’s an extract from Wolf Moon:
On entering this large cavern, they noticed they could see, if only faintly. Looking around, dim lights glowed high on the walls of the cave.
‘They could be phosphorescent fungi,’ mused Basalt, who had experience of living deep underground, ‘or they could be some kind of creature that gives off light, like glow-worms or fireflies.’
‘Look,’ Asphodel said, pointing. ‘Those formations over there look like buildings.’
‘Perhaps they’re natural stone formations,’ Grimmaldo mused.
Basalt shook his head. ‘No, those are not natural. They’ve been built in here.’ He approached one standing closer than most of the others. ‘It looks a bit like dwarven work, but there are aspects of the building work that aren’t dwarven. At least, not modern dwarven workmanship. For a start, they’re round. Dwarves used to build round buildings centuries ago but not any more.’
‘Perhaps they’ve been here for that long. Abandoned by the dwarves who built them,’ Grimmaldo suggested.
As they walked through the buildings, though, Thadora noticed something odd. She pointed at the door of one of the houses.
‘That wood looks fresh. It’s certainly not hundreds of bleedin’ years old, Basalt.’
The dwarf frowned. ‘You’re right, there, Thadda. This wood is no more than ten years old.’
‘Then someone lives here,’ said Asphodel. ‘Perhaps they’ll show us the way out.’
Basalt frowned. ‘Something’s odd,’ he said. ‘I’ve never heard of dwarves living in the Mountains of Doom. All our race for thousands of years have lived in the Western Mountains, with a few groups in the Roof of the World. We all know of each other and are in communication. But none have ever, in all that time, been known in these mountains.’
Fero led the way towards the centre of the cavern. They walked for fifteen minutes but still no one, not even Basalt or Asphodel, could make out the far wall. As for the roof, well, that disappeared high above.
Asphodel could see no sign of life, though. When the travellers got nearer to the centre, they found dim lamps burning around the village on tall posts, giving a shadowy light. Here they noticed a dropped basket, there, a fallen vegetable. They saw dwellings here, in this part of the cavern, all built of stone or carved from the cave walls. The settlement seemed the size of a large village or small town, but where, in a village above ground there would have been a bustling population, here nothing stirred. There remained only the signs they had noticed showing that people lived in the village.
The buildings lay scattered around in seemingly random fashion. A large building with double doors lay on the left of where they entered. Not one of the buildings had any windows. They passed buildings with the appearance of houses. A couple, with open doors, had tables, chairs, and even food left. Some looked like workshops that had been left hurriedly, tools scattered around. Then they found a big open area with a large building at one side, a bit like a square in a town above ground. Even here they saw no sign of life. It looked as if everyone left hurriedly.
‘People live here, still,’ Asphodel said. ‘All these buildings show signs of recent occupation. Very recent. I wonder where they’ve gone, and why?’
‘Perhaps they think something dangerous is about to happen, like an earthquake or a volcanic eruption,’ Thadora said.
‘Or perhaps we are the danger,’ Fero pointed out. ‘After all, these people, assuming they are people, have been cut off from outside for thousands of years, if Bas is anything to go by.’
‘What do you mean “If Bas is anything to go by.” I know my people’s history.’
‘Sorry, Bas. Of course you do. What I meant is, these people might see anyone from outside as a threat. We should just sit down and wait, to show them we’re not going to harm them. A bit like you would with a wild deer. After a while, if you are quiet and still enough, they’ll come closer.’
Thadora drummed her fingers. They entered this cave what seemed to her like hours ago, and Fero told them to sit and do nothing. The seventeen-year old was not good at waiting. In her own words she had said, ‘I don’t do patience.’ when Asphodel admonished her for not sitting still.
The others all sat there with peaceful expressions on their faces, barely moving, and not talking. The girl edged slowly away from the others. No one noticed so she edged some more. Her curiosity burned in her like a flame. She really must take a look around this place.
Through the occasional door, left open, they glimpsed rooms as though they had been hurriedly left and their owners would soon return. A meal in the process of being prepared, a child’s toys scattered around, tools left where they lay in a workroom, half-finished handiwork on a chair.
The girl decided she must explore this strange place to see if she could answer the many questions running through her head. Who were these people? Why had they left so suddenly? Why did they live completely under the mountains? Why did no one know of their existence?
When they arrived in this square in the centre of the village, Fero had called a halt. He said if their approach had frightened whoever lived here, they must do nothing to antagonise them or give them reason to fear.
‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘If we indicate we are not in anyway dangerous, the people will show themselves and help us find another way out.’
Therefore, they waited. And waited. Then they waited some more. And Thadora got impatient.
Just as she rose to her knees, about to make a dive for the nearest corner, Basalt spotted her. At the same time, a movement came from the northern end of the square.
Basalt reached out and made a grab at the girl, hissing, ‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’
Because of this, they both missed the entrance of three inhabitants of the village.
AND SOMETHING FROM THE STONES OF FIRE AND WATER
After his return from Aeris with the gem of air, Pettic receives a letter from the king. He is to see Torren and rekindle their relationship.
Soon after, Torren and Pettic meet a strange man and their lives change drastically, as they’re dragged into a mystery surrounding the red dragon Monarlisk and his former mate.
But will Pettic’s magic be enough to help them finish their quest in time – and in the end, will the rightful king be crowned?
As before, a mist rose in front of Pettic and he walked into it with a little more confidence than he had the first time. The mist soon gave way to a view halfway up a mountain.
It was night here too. He looked back but could only see the cliff that he had exited. This was more difficult than the previous journey. There, he exited in a cave and there could be no mistake in the place to return through. Here there was the whole side of a cliff. He looked around for some landmarks to indicate where he had come out. He spotted a rock just ahead that looked like a dog’s head. That he committed to memory and began to walk down the mountainside.
This was a range of large mountains from what he could see. The moon was full here, too, and lending a silvery light to the scene. He could see a valley below, but not any details. Whether there was a village or town he could not make out. He tripped on a rock he had not noticed. Perhaps he should stay here on the mountain until daylight when he could see better where he was going.
It was not cold here, but there was an unpleasant smell. It was a bit like rotten eggs, he thought. He sat down and Cledo lay down next to him. The smell was not good, but a broken leg would be worse, so he lay down next to his dog to sleep.
He woke to hear the sound of creaking leather. He sat up rubbing his eyes and coughing against the smell. He thought perhaps some people had come up in leather armour and slowly opened his eyes.
What he saw astounded him. In front of him, black scales gleaming in the sun, was an enormous beast. It had two black horns protruding from its head and a mane of leathery fronds around its long neck. Its eyes were green and slit vertically, and on its back, now neatly folded, was a pair of leathery wings. It had been the sound of these wings that had woken him.
All the way from its head to the tip of its tail was a double row of spines of varying length, longer on its thorax tapering to small ones at the tip of its tail. The sound of the wings folding away had woken him.
Then the beast spoke.
‘What have we here on my mountain? A little human it would seem.’
‘Yes, I’m a human,’ said Pettic, his voice trembling, but he felt he should say something, ‘but not small by human standards.’
The beast looked startled. ‘You speak dragonish? How come you speak dragonish. Humans have never been able to speak our language before.’
‘Actually, I’m speaking my own language and we can understand each other because of this magic amulet I’m wearing.’
‘How intriguing. We dragons have magic, but no magic that can do such a thing. What kind of magician are you that can make such a thing?’
‘I’m not a magician. This was given to me by a magician on my home world.’
‘What do you mean, “your home world”?’
Pettic wondered if he should be talking to this creature. Dragons were mythological creatures on his world, like unicorns and griffins but did not actually exist. There people considered them to be evil beasts. Were these myths based on fact and were dragons evil? If so, perhaps he should not be telling this creature too much.
‘I think I may have fallen and taken a blow to the head. I really don’t know where I am,’ Pettic told the dragon. ‘Please tell me.’
‘You are on the side of my volcano, near the sacrifice stone.’ replied the dragon. ‘This valley and the one beyond are my territory. No one comes here except to sacrifice. Perhaps that’s why you’re here. Are you the sacrifice, or is it this beast with you?’
Pettic gulped. Sacrifice? This creature wanted a sacrifice and thought that he or Cledo were it. How was he going to talk his way out of this one? It would have to be talk because there was no way he and Cledo could fight this creature and win.
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a bit about the vikings
The people we call Vikings didn’t call themselves by that name. The word Viking refers to the act of going on raids by ship. Or piracy, if you wish to call it that. A group of men would ‘Go viking’.
They were not a unified group, either. The people who raided Scotland and to the north of Ireland were mainly from Norway, and were known as the Norse, while those who attacked England were the Danes.
However, they were called different names in different parts of the world. The one who came from what is now Sweden, were known as the Rus. They raided to the east.
The Danes came to England and settled in the 9th century. Of course, they didn’t always come peacefully. You can read about the Great Heathen Army by following these links: https://wordpress.com/post/aspholessaria.wordpress.com/4944
And this one for part 2: https://wordpress.com/post/aspholessaria.wordpress.com/5000
Eventually they conquered nearly all of England, except for Wessex, in the far south. This kingdom was ruled by the only English king to be given the appellation of The Great. He was, of course, Alfred.
Eventually, a treaty was made between King Alfred and the Danes in which they were given all the lands lying to the north and east of what was the Roman road of Watling Street. In this part of what is now England (which did not exist at that time), the Danes practised their own laws, and so it became known as the Danelaw.
Next time, I’ll tell you a little more about the Danes and how they lived; their laws, customs and religion.
If you can’t wait until them, though, you can always get a feel of those times by reading my recently released book, Jealousy of a Viking.
You can get a copy by clicking here or on the book cover in the sidebar.
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Dragons Rule OK. V.M.Sang (author) 