tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62430707455159235832024-03-18T17:39:35.870-04:00Suzan Harden, WriterSuzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.comBlogger541125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-59950153030023707182024-03-11T22:30:00.002-04:002024-03-17T23:12:30.760-04:00Sad, Sad Moment at the OscarsThis made me cry angry tears last night. So many of DH's work colleagues used to live in Kyiv.<br />
<br/>
<iframe width="400" height="225" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zlab8EvzxRw?si=Ex1ea4KaXu-hahwW" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-52811539831222034192024-03-06T19:00:00.001-05:002024-03-06T19:11:58.843-05:00A Unfortunate Break<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM9IhcRlFGulUAU-dPCNmCxxEjrJHd4hvqpzVc4paIXXB3Ltyp_M5oG7hshteDZyEiddBpRDzhPhXs0BJ9gTnYdZ5ijSECZQ8XApx6wBe8Sy9lcMeFFVohkCFRZRON-FV9WYLcdghaKxhTt5b5pacIl1MIeCjYn9WE0cZ-iQ44VbzVon_thnFn4v_TuHV/s7360/Depositphotos_208837800_XL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4912" data-original-width="7360" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM9IhcRlFGulUAU-dPCNmCxxEjrJHd4hvqpzVc4paIXXB3Ltyp_M5oG7hshteDZyEiddBpRDzhPhXs0BJ9gTnYdZ5ijSECZQ8XApx6wBe8Sy9lcMeFFVohkCFRZRON-FV9WYLcdghaKxhTt5b5pacIl1MIeCjYn9WE0cZ-iQ44VbzVon_thnFn4v_TuHV/s320/Depositphotos_208837800_XL.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Chapter 7 of <i>A Cup of Conflict</i> is almost done, but I need to take a unwanted break from writing in order to do the tax stuff. Yep, it's that time in the U.S. I always make a resolution to have this done by the end of February. Ir's only happened once since I started filing the 1040 form.<p></p><p>Goddess, I miss the 1040-EZ. It was so much easier to plan the withholding amounts.<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-62817578636230301102024-02-28T17:30:00.004-05:002024-02-28T17:36:59.569-05:00A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 6<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioiAegOX7w-fSmgBiHvRDQNSBqzCbWjQJdK_fR5MrKAw6G_7ZbNWEQnryTphNUAlOLkUDnuYu54Z1nxeg1Fgal_CoiLe1cHFCoRIsQcuih8LjyZdqhiAuM-4ObBXrMCGcImgaD2Rdhd-Nc5_EM0lfwHk3ue5A5JyLQRbfq0pstDqzBd5D-O6PbmwuD_jPo/s1125/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioiAegOX7w-fSmgBiHvRDQNSBqzCbWjQJdK_fR5MrKAw6G_7ZbNWEQnryTphNUAlOLkUDnuYu54Z1nxeg1Fgal_CoiLe1cHFCoRIsQcuih8LjyZdqhiAuM-4ObBXrMCGcImgaD2Rdhd-Nc5_EM0lfwHk3ue5A5JyLQRbfq0pstDqzBd5D-O6PbmwuD_jPo/s320/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>I tried to get as much writing and editing done before tax season, but alas, it is time to pay Uncle Sam his due for the privilege of living in the United States of America. Things around here are going to be even more quiet over the next week or two. So, enjoy this next unedited chapter of <i>A Cup of Conflict</i>!<br />
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<br />
Three days later, the imperial procession entered the Jing capital. I tried not to gawk as if I were a child fresh from a tiny village, but it was impossible not to do so. The surrounding land, while not barren, was devoid of anything longer than tiny blades of grass. The lack of high vegetation made the walls four-story-high walls appear far taller. All minor buildings were three leagues from the stone base. The Jing people took the prohibitions concerning plant growth and out buildings near city walls far more seriously than we did in Issura, a subject I would need to bring up the next time I spoke with Duke White Eagle. <br />
<br />
Chengzhou was much, much larger than Standora. As the city had grown over the centuries, a series of concentric walls had been built around the new stores and homes. Sister Yin Li had dropped back to ride with Luc and me as we approached the city’s Eastern Gate. She pointed out the next wall under construction a half league from the gate in front of us. Men and women dug the deep pit needed to support the massive stone fortress that would eventually surround Chengzhou. I wondered construction had started before Po’s half-brother had been assassinated.<br />
<br />
She didn’t need to mention we avoided any delays with the bureaucracy while entering the city as part of the imperial party. For once on this blasted trip, Reverend Father Biming proved his worth.<br />
<br />
Captain Huizhong and his men took point as we wove our way through the wide streets. Their announcement of the crown prince’s presence was a contradiction. More people flooded the streets, but they kept well out of the imperial party’s way. The people bowed deeply, and they did not rise until the last guard passed them.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, Yin Li pointed out significant sites. I wasn’t the only one enthralled by the art and architecture. The sister’s son Yin Shang stared in wonder at the people and surrounding buildings. It struck me it had been nearly two years since he’d left Jing with his mother.<br />
<br />
At approximately the same age I had been when I had been forced to leave Orrin.<br />
<br />
While Yin Li identified specific monuments and dispensed stories about them, I looked at the boy on top of his shaggy pony. “How much do you remember of your birth city, Master Yin Shang?”<br />
<br />
“No much,” he admitted shyly. “It’s like coming to someplace new.” He glanced at his mother and added softly, “I only remember I didn’t want to leave Father when Mother was told to go to Issura.” He looked up at me. “Do you think I had a premonition something bad would happen to Father?”<br />
<br />
The child’s insight took me by surprise. “I do not know. I’ve never had any experience with foresight. Have you spoken to your mother about this?”<br />
<br />
He shook his head. “Uncle Po, er, the emperor said I should not say anything to Mother because it would trouble her. I don’t want to hurt her in any way. He also said if I was ever in need of an honest answer, I should ask you.” <br />
<br />
I smiled at the boy, vaguely amused Po put that much trust in me. I knew he was quite fond of Yin Shang, and the soon-to-be-crowned emperor looked forward to having his own children. I didn’t know if Shi Hua was aware she was with child yet, but I had learned my lesson about addressing such a matter before the mother-to-be or the potential father announced the coming babe. I had nearly destroyed my cordial relationship with the Duke of Orrin and Lady Katarina over her first pregnancy.<br />
<br />
“And what did the emperor say when you asked him if you had foresight?” I asked.<br />
<br />
The boy shrugged. “He said the Temples would determine my talents when I was a bit older.”<br />
<br />
“Do you wish to serve the Temples?”<br />
<br />
Yin Shang glance at his mother’s back before he looked at me again. “Part of me wants to because Father and Mother serve.” A mischievous grin spread across his face. “However, I learned a great deal while we were aboard the Mars Tranquilis. Perhaps I could serve the emperor by working on a ship.”<br />
<br />
“I think the emperor would gladly have you serve him in any capacity you both agree on.”<br />
<br />
My answer seemed to please the boy, and we both paid more attention to his mother’s gracious discourse.<br />
<br />
Our travel through the city wasn’t a straightforward as it would have been in the cities of Issura. Whenever we reached an inner wall, we would have to traverse left or right to reach the actual gate. It was a maze that would have confounded even the builders of the Crimson Palace in Ryukyu. Both invaders and prisoners would have difficulty getting through the gate system even if they knew the city intimately. No doubt Chengzhou’s architects planned for such things.<br />
<br />
What surprised me most was the number of parks within each set of walls. They were as well kept as those in the Ryukyuan capital. The first flowers of spring blossomed in their beds, and brilliant yellow buds glowed at the tips of the small trees and bushes’ blue branches. It was a reminder of how close we were to the Spring Rituals.
<i>What’s wrong?</i> Luc whispered in my mind.<br />
<br />
<i>Just my usual trepidation at this time of year</i>, I replied.<br />
<br />
<i>At least we’re not in Tandor this year</i>.<br />
<br />
His jibe didn’t make me feel better. <i>You will still be expected to bed some of the local priestesses.</i>
He was silent for a long moment before he whispered,<i> After what Gerd did to you and Claudia, I doubt I would be able to perform for fear of some tragedy striking the woman</i>.<br />
<br />
His fear surprised me. <i>My birth mother is dead. She cannot touch either of us ever again</i>.<br />
<br />
<i>And I refuse to hurt you ever again</i>.<br />
<br />
I swallowed my bitterness at the strength of his declaration. Despite the months I spent under Child’s care, the old emotions surged through me. I hoped I would have time to myself to meditate, but I doubted I would have such privacy before First Night.<br />
<br />
Yin Li’s running commentary slowed as we passed through the middle wall gate. This wall was much thicker than the last. At the third gate, I noticed the sentries on the parapets were no longer imperial troops, but Temple wardens and clergy. However, they were too high for me to clearly read their shoulder emblems.<br />
<br />
“By the Twelve, how did the demons enter the city with this many priests and priestesses about?” I said in Issuran.<br />
<br />
“There’s usually not this many Conflict wardens and clergy guarding the inner walls,” Yin Li replied in kind. “Nor as many soldiers manning the outer walls and patrolling the streets.”<br />
<br />
“So, you do have Peacekeepers?” Luc asked.<br />
<br />
The priestess nodded solemnly. “The extra guards are a response to the winter attack.”<br />
<br />
Inside the third wall, large buildings clearly marked as guild houses interspersed with manors housing the noble class, the various philosophical schools, and high-class inns. Each structure was larger than Duke Marco’s castle and the Orrin Government House put together. Small storefronts were housed in the corners of the guild buildings. From the quality of goods, they had been obviously made by masters. The inns had similar corner shops where visitors to the inner city could purchase meals and drinks to eat on the street-side terraces.<br />
<br />
As we passed these buildings on the way to the imperial palace, the quiet obeisance to Po continued. I watched facial features and colors of bodies as we passed. While the merchants, common tradespeople and families had largely been relieved at their new emperor’s return, the feelings switched within the inner wall. Guild masters, their journeypeople, and staffs had mixed feelings, but nobles and the school staffs were perturbed though they did not openly express their hostility.<br />
<br />
I could feel Luc watching through my eyes, silently comparing his impressions with mine.<br />
<br />
<i>This is not good</i>, he said.<br />
<br />
<i>It’s not as if we believed Po would be received with open arms by the nobility</i>, I replied sourly.<br />
<br />
Luc snorted. <i>Duke Lixin didn’t sweeten the news either</i>.<br />
<br />
I smiled at him. <i>Duke Lixin has no taste for more power. If it wasn’t for his family, I think he’d be perfectly happy quietly farming in a small corner of Jing</i>.<br />
<br />
Luc chuckled as the imperial procession swung south. At Yin Li’s sharp glance, he quickly sobered.<br />
<br />
I could smell the perfumed air before we reached the Temple District. As I expected, as I expected, the next turn opened onto the avenue of the Twelve. The temples themselves put the ones in the Ryukyuan capital of Naha to shame. Nor did they resemble the layered buildings in Haung He. The Temples were out-and-out fortresses.<br />
<br />
High walls surrounded each complex except for the main doors and the twelve steps leading to the entrance. The symbols of each Temple were inscribed with gold inlays on the lintel posts. Carved jade decorated the massive bronze doors of the main entrances. A palpable sense of worry emanated from the clergy, wardens, and staff as we passed. It was almost a relief compared to the animosity of the nobles.<br />
<br />
“There’s only one gate each for the two inner walls?” I quietly asked Yin Li.<br />
<br />
Her slight nod was my only acknowledgement. She kept her eyes forward.<br />
<br />
That must have been how the Temples and imperial guards kept the demons from spilling out to devour the civilians when they attacked the palace. Emperor Chengwu and his family were a high cost to pay for the rest of the nation. Did the people here even understand what had been done by the Reverend Mothers and Fathers to save their lives?<br />
<br />
Even worse, did it matter if the nobles or school masters failed to acknowledge their new emperor?<br />
<br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-71128630644904031162024-02-14T20:30:00.004-05:002024-02-15T21:54:18.986-05:00A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 5<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AOy8xR3a7nlAGNdUoDMlc1iG1ix5R0Vzxzm_EIy5-jMqn3JYuYQQysTTMj9AEWX8YGyRb7pq11z3Iws5Lxg8HS5WzHVl0rHmoDN9G82m3GIGweNikk0w-AT2b51xCnGLovcgKbJrLISSYzZthSnkWnnzyFe7XJTZCqOghRs7hfvhqQUSBob90U-May-4/s1125/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AOy8xR3a7nlAGNdUoDMlc1iG1ix5R0Vzxzm_EIy5-jMqn3JYuYQQysTTMj9AEWX8YGyRb7pq11z3Iws5Lxg8HS5WzHVl0rHmoDN9G82m3GIGweNikk0w-AT2b51xCnGLovcgKbJrLISSYzZthSnkWnnzyFe7XJTZCqOghRs7hfvhqQUSBob90U-May-4/s320/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>I've been struggling to finish the edits on <i>Magick and Murder</i>. In order to clear my frustration, I finished Chapter 5 of A Cup of Conflict. Here's the new unedited chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.<br />
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<br />
Luc sucked in a breath to reprimand Mateqai, but I silently said, <i>Don’t my love. He is no longer your warden</i>. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, Luc relaxed a bit. However, Shi Hua turned to her captain of the empress’s guard. Her expression was neutral, but her irritation grated along my psyche.
“Heed your place, Captain.”<br />
<br />
He dropped his gaze. “I beg forgiveness, my empress.” But his own worry and suspicion were barely under control. A fact not lost on any of the clergy or former priestess in the room, including Darys.<br />
<br />
She raised her chin. “If it will ease your guards’ fears, Your Majesty, I will submit to formal questioning. In making my suggestion, I did not wish to waste your valuable time.”<br />
<br />
Po stopped playing with the beads on his moustache. A whisper of his old, sly smile tilted his lips. “What say you, Lady Justice?”<br />
<br />
I looked at the Skoloti priestess. Her skin didn’t change from its warm yellow. I turned back to Po. “This isn’t a formal investigation. Sister Darys voluntarily revealed her knowledge of her Reverend Mother of Balance’s prophecy to me. While I trust Captain Mateqai’s advice, I don’t want to allow any prejudice I might have against two specific members of Thief affect your nation’s relations with the Skoloti tribes.”<br />
<br />
Po chuckled at my reference to Biming and Ogusuku, the Reverend Father of Ryukyu’s Temple of Thief. My acknowledgement of Mateqai’s concerns seemed to mollify the former warden. His skin shift from orange to gold.<br />
<br />
Po inclined his head. “Tell us your story, Sister.”<br />
<br />
“As I said a moment ago, our Revered Mother of Balance had her vision thirty-three years ago,” Darys began. “At this time, she was technically a novice of the Temple.” She glanced at me. “I don’t know how such things are done in Issura, but for us, those novices, who are ready, take their final vows at the end of the Spring Rituals. Assignments are made so when the tribes split and go to their grazing lands or hunting grounds during the summer, they have sufficient clergy to care for the people until the Vintner’s festival. The final vows happen during the last night of the Rituals. While she was reciting her oath to Balance, she went into a trance and spoke in an odd voice.”<br />
<br />
She closed her eyes. “In thirty winters, the last demon attacks will start. A babe will be born, touched by Balance, but with a unique sight. She will lead the last battle because she can detect demons through their disguises. You will know her because her eyes will be the color of her birth mother’s Temple.”<br />
<br />
Darys’s eyelids fluttered open. “No one knew what to make of her words, though Balance clerks and Knowledge clergy had the presence of mind to record what she said. When she finished speaking, she collapsed to the ground. After the healers roused her, she did not remember speaking.<br />
<br />
“She recovered and took her vows, but she remained with the Reverend Mother of Balance instead of departing with the tribe she had been assigned to. Over the years, our Temples searched for signs of demon activity. The Reverend Mother of Balance at the time consulted all the records she had as well as the other eleven Temples. Justices queried their counterparts in neighboring territories. Other Balance Temples were contacted through distance speakers.”<br />
<br />
Darys chuckled. “It started a philosophical debate about whether a sighted justice was actually a justice. Others believed the blessed justice would develop a spell to pierce the demons ability to shapeshift. It was all theory until word came from traders about Issura’s Red Justice.”<br />
<br />
“Please do not call me that.” My request was halfway between a snarl and a plea.<br />
<br />
“No offense was intended, Lady Justice.” Darys inclined her head by way of apology. “It is merely the description we received.”<br />
<br />
“It means something else in Issura,” I muttered.<br />
<br />
“Why is this prophecy such a secret?” Luc asked.<br />
<br />
“It isn’t,” Darys said. “At least not among the Skoloti clergy. I cannot speak for other nations, but our Temple of Balance did send notice of the prophecy to their sister Temples. \”<br />
<br />
“Your people are known for your oracles among your orders,” Shi Hua said. “Isn’t that correct?”<br />
<br />
Darys nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”<br />
<br />
“Do the other nations’ Temples often disregard the foresight of your fellow clergy?” Shi Hua asked.<br />
<br />
Another chuckle from the Skoloti priestess. “I cannot speak on behalf of foreign Temples, Your Majesty.”<br />
<br />
“But your own people take these prophecies as truth, correct?” Shi Hua asked.<br />
<br />
“We take any foresight quite seriously,” Darys said. “However, understanding a prophecy isn’t always as straight forward as we would wish. For instance, this divination did not specify how the justice obtains her method of detecting demons. Another facto,r as the Chief Justice will tell you, relates to the future constantly moving because our decisions and actions change based on what we perceive. And that perception is not always accurate.”<br />
<br />
“This particular prophesy seems rather accurate.” Po smiled. “It would explain the desperate attempts of the Assassins Guild and their partners to eliminate you, Anthea.”
“Yes, it does,” I replied dryly.<br />
<br />
Darys’s information also troubled me greatly. None of my sisterhood back in Issura I’d spoken with in my careful inquiries had known about this prophecy. Reverend Mother Alara had only mentioned it to me after I’d discovered the renegades had quietly taken over Orrin’s Temple of Love.<br />
<br />
At the time, I’d though my superior had been playing with me. Now, I wondered why she kept silent about this prophesy, especially after I had given myself my peculiar eyesight. Was she that appalled I was the sighted justice?<br />
<br />
That would have made for sense if I didn’t suspect the traitor within Issura’s Temple of Balance was Reverend Mother Alara herself.<br />
<br />
“Is there anything else you wish to know?” Darys asked.<br />
<br />
Everyone in the room watched for my reaction.<br />
<br />
“Not at this time, Sister,” I said. “You have given me much new information to consider. However, may I please speak with you again if I do have a question?”<br />
<br />
“Of course.” She nodded.<br />
<br />
“As for your request for information—” I began.<br />
<br />
“You do not have to tell me, Lady Justice.” Darys frowned. “I was not aware you have had previous troubles with the Assassins Guild.”<br />
<br />
“Do you withdraw your request because of your Temple’s former association with the Assassins Guild?” I deliberately raised an eyebrow.<br />
<br />
“No, I’m withdrawing my request because I understand your issue with Reverend Father Biming.”<br />
<br />
Part of me liked the Thief priestess, but she was one I’d need to keep an ear open for. Just like Biming. However, her insightfulness could be useful. Or very, very dangerous. I wish I knew for sure.<br />
<br />
“Which issue is that?” I asked mildly.<br />
<br />
She hesitated a moment, but her color did not change. “I learned from one of Duke Lixin’s men that the Ryukyuan Reverend Father of Thief tried to interfere with that kingdom’s installation of their new Reverend Mother of Balance and to force you to stay in Ryukyu in his custody, not Balance’s. He also said Reverend Father Biming conspired with the Ryukyuan Reverend Father of Thief to accomplish such deeds.”<br />
<br />
“Which of the duke’s men did you speak with, and what else did this guard convey to you?”<br />
<br />
I recognized Po’s cool tone. It was the same one he’d used with me after I’d discovered he’d tortured and executed an assassin within the walls of the Jing Embassy. I had been furious the man hadn’t been properly questioned by a justice before being officially tried and convicted. However, an embassy was considered part of its nation’s territory and I had no say in Po’s disposition of the assassin. It angered me more Po had discovered the traitor thanks to the tracking spell I’d asked the Orrin Temple of Light perform during our investigation of Sister Gretchen of Love’s murder.<br />
<br />
“It was Ma Li.” Now, the Skoloti priestess’s color did change to a dull orange. Was she embarrassed about gossiping? Or was she irritated that she wasted a good source of information? I couldn’t tell. No emotion leaked from her shielded mind.<br />
<br />
Po glanced at Huizhong who stood to the crown prince’s right and a step behind his chair. “Captain?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, my emperor!” The head of Po’s personal guard executed a smart bow to his liege. He turned to me. “If you will, Lady Justice?”<br />
<br />
I dissolved my wards with a murmured word, and Huizhong departed. I prayed to the Twelve his only task was to reprimand this unfortunate Ma Li.<br />
<br />
“Is there anything you wished to discuss, Chief Justice?” Po asked.<br />
<br />
“No, Your Majesty,” I shook my head. “I wanted to keep you and the empress apprised since you were kind enough to warn me of the price the Assassins Guild had placed on my head.” I deliberately didn’t mention Shi Hua had an even bigger price on hers according to the information the former emperor Chengwu had forwarded to his brother. I was sure it had alarmed Chengwu to see Po’s bodyguard, now wife, at the top of an Assassins Guild target list.<br />
<br />
And it made me wonder if there had been a prophesy about Shi Hua as well.<br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-36355951213187112322024-01-17T07:00:00.006-05:002024-01-17T17:15:46.670-05:00A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 4<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKri1mSW4cndVyMg5_ZMLYq_4l4R6Jv8UB-Jegyo-Z5FdJF67EZS_1vy0XjAmlnntkperKwrzCh-fXxHG6poWdydywNwIPhl5_hAUbkrJRjJpu0IbnBVISREtkWMv_Wv1wOEfQspjVIpyT7gCXx1qxMbPVAbDBzpMDkdBVb9M9EpKh-C3VjeT9n0-RG14/s1125/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKri1mSW4cndVyMg5_ZMLYq_4l4R6Jv8UB-Jegyo-Z5FdJF67EZS_1vy0XjAmlnntkperKwrzCh-fXxHG6poWdydywNwIPhl5_hAUbkrJRjJpu0IbnBVISREtkWMv_Wv1wOEfQspjVIpyT7gCXx1qxMbPVAbDBzpMDkdBVb9M9EpKh-C3VjeT9n0-RG14/s320/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>After spending my vacation travel time editing and a good month recovering from eye surgery, I'm slowly getting back into the writing groove. Here's next unedited chapter of <i>A Cup of Conflict</i>.<br />
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<br />
Later that night, I supped by myself in a tavern at the next caravanserai. As alone as I could be. Long Feather and Jonata sat at a nearby table where they could watch me without them being in my line of sight. Yet, I couldn’t avoid the familiarity of their spirits. <br />
<br />
Darys stalked up to my table and straddled the bench on the other side. Her wardens moved past us, no doubt joining my own guards at the table behind me. <br />
<br />
“You can’t continue blaming yourself for random misfortune,” she boldly stated in Issuran. <br />
<br />
I straightened. “You have no real knowledge about me. And you are stepping beyond your rank, Sister.” <br />
<br />
“Maybe I am,” she replied. “However, I am not your enemy, Chief Justice. We have the same duty to perform—keep the Jing emperor alive long enough to reach Chengzhou.” <br />
<br />
“Go away.” <br />
<br />
“I see.” She smiled and switched to Jing. “Do you truly believe that by driving away other people, your heart will not be broken by loss?” <br />
<br />
However, I wasn’t falling for her trap, and I refused to play her word games. “You are not from Child, and this is a public place,” I snapped in Issuran. <br />
<br />
She shook her head, but she resumed speaking in Issuran. “Maybe you should speak with one of Shang’s people. You’re not the only one who has lost comrades in this war, and I have no doubt I will lose people I care about before it’s over.” <br />
<br />
I relaxed a bit. “So, you believe the demon war is not over?” <br />
<br />
“Balance is noted for saying exactly what She means, Lady Justice.” Darys shrugged. “According to Her Revelation at the Kemet capital, we have one more generation to go before we will defeat the demons.” <br />
<br />
It was my turn to test the Thief priestess. Using my eating sticks, I retrieved a vegetable from my bowl and held it up. “What is this?” <br />
<br />
Darys frowned at my abrupt change of subject. “I don’t know the Issuran word for it, but the Jing term is ‘pak choi’. Our Temple of Knowledge says it’s related to cabbage.” <br />
<br />
“Sister, do you think the other plants in the garden miss this particular pak choi?” <br />
<br />
“I don’t know.” <br />
<br />
“You seem to spend a great deal of time with Knowledge,” I said. “Do they have any treatises on the emotions and intelligence of plants?” <br />
<br />
“I’ve never searched for such information before.” Her frown deepened. “What is the purpose of your question?” <br />
<br />
“During our trip to Diné, Brother Sisquoc of Wildling and I discussed why the demons focus on humans and not any other life form in the World.” I examined the leafy chunk of vegetable. “According to the Temple of Wildling, all life is interconnected. If we have thoughts and feelings, and animals have the similar thoughts and feelings according to the Wildlings’ experiences, he conjectured that plants must as well.” <br />
<br />
“It makes sense,” she murmured. “Don’t justices pull the memories of stones and plants to learn of deeds around them?” <br />
<br />
I nodded. “So, how could anything have a memory if it didn’t also have thought?” <br />
<br />
“By your logic, it cannot.” Darys propped her elbows on the table. “Therefore, memories are thoughts we’ve recorded within our spirits. However, I still don’t understand the purpose of your line of questioning.” <br />
<br />
“What’s special about humans then?” <br />
<br />
“Maybe it is the similarities between humans and the demons that attract them to us.” She paused as the tavern girl asked for her choice in drink and whether the priestess wanted dinner. <br />
<br />
Once the girl scurried toward the kitchen, Darys eyed me again. “There’s also the fact they eat us and wear our skins as we would another animal’s. Is this what concerns you? How closely the demons resemble us?” <br />
<br />
“Yes,” I said. “And our one fault is we do not regard each other with the same respect we should show to all living things. I believe they regard us with same belief that we have for the animals and plants that nourish us. The only difference is we fight back.” <br />
<br />
She shook her head. “You are certainly not what I expected.” <br />
<br />
“What’s that supposed mean?” I glared at her. <br />
<br />
“According to our own Reverend Mothers of Balance, the prophesized justice who can see would be the one who leads the final battle. I pictured you as a great hero. Someone of conviction. Not someone who doubts her purpose.” <br />
<br />
I froze. This was the first time I’d heard about the prophesy outside of Reverend Mother Alara. Maybe the old bat wasn’t yanking my emotions around after all. <br />
<br />
Darys frowned. “Have I offended you, Lady Justice?” <br />
<br />
“May we continue this discussion in my quarters after you’ve finished your meal?” My tongue wanted to choke on my words. “This is not a conversation we should have in public.” <br />
<br />
“Of course.” Darys inclined her head. “You are correct. I should not have mentioned the subject in a public place.” <br />
<br />
“And I apologize for my behavior on the road,” I said. “I had no right to inflict my ill temper upon you.” <br />
<br />
She smiled and nodded just as the tavern girl arrived with a full tray. <br />
<br />
I finished my meal and sipped on another cup of Jing’s cool light-tasting beer while Darys consumed her own meal. We continued to speak of the differences between the Skoloti tribes and Issura, and she taught me a few more words in her language. <br />
<br />
When we finished, we left the tavern and headed toward our assigned suites. Our wardens prowled behind us. The crowd parted away from our path, but from the mix of fear and anger wafting from the people, it had more to do with what my Temple robes represented than the recent demon attack on their capital city. <br />
<br />
I silently requested Luc, Po, and Shi Hua attend my discussion with Darys as we climbed the steps of the caravanserai. This one was much larger than the caravanserai we had lodged in over the past ten days. It was five stories tall and built of stone, nearly a fortress in and of itself. Po said it acted as a warehouse for the goods flowing into and out of Chengzhou, but I had the impression commerce wasn’t the building’s original purpose. <br />
<br />
When we reached the top floor, instead of mine and Luc’s stateroom, we headed toward the suite used by the imperial couple. These days, the Jing guards bowed to us as befitting foreign dignitaries while Mateqai escorted us to Po and Shi Hau’s private sitting room. It was an odd feeling concerning those who had accompanied us across the Peaceful Sea. I no longer viewed them by their rank, but rather honored comrades who survived that horrid voyage. However, it was necessary to adhere to the formalities, given our mission. <br />
<br />
Inside the sitting room, Luc bowed before carefully lowering his body to a silk-covered cushion before the Jing emperor and his wife. Two other cushions lay on his right for me and Darys. Jing guards and our own wardens stood against the walls of the room. <br />
<br />
Both Darys and I executed the appropriate bows for our ranks before I said, “With your permission, Your Majesty, I would like to ward the room.” <br />
<br />
Po nodded and fingered the gold beads on the left-side of his moustache, an indication that he was worried about something. Shi Hua appeared exhausted, her normally bright smile a shadow of itself. <br />
<br />
Darys sat on the far right cushion while I circled the room and muttered the words to the warding spell. After I finished, I dropped to the cushion between Luc and Darys. I turned to her. <br />
<br />
“Please tell us everything you know concerning your Reverend Mother of Balance’s prophecy about the justice with sight.” <br />
<br />
Darys blinked. “You don’t know?” <br />
<br />
“The information has been withheld from me, and I have suspicions in regards to the reasons,” I replied. “Nor has the knowledge been shared with Temple of Light, according to the empress and High Brother Luc.” <br />
<br />
She remained silent for a long moment. It was the first relatively normal Thief characteristic I’d seen her display since we left the coastal port of Huang He eleven days ago. <br />
<br />
Finally, she nodded. “I will tell you about the prophesy on one condition—that you share will me whatever suspicions you have.” <br />
<br />
“We’ll agree to your condition with one of own,” Shi Hua said. “You agree to be truthspelled.” <br />
<br />
Darys nodded again. “Considering your issues with your own Reverend Father of Thief, I understand your worries, and I agree to your terms, Your Majesty.” <br />
<br />
I sucked in a deep breath at the warm tingle of Shi Hua’s power, but Darys didn’t seem a bit surprised it was the Jing empress who laid the truthspell on her. <br />
<br />
“If you would start your questioning, Lady Justice,” Po murmured. <br />
<br />
Under our previous circumstances, I would have made a borderline rude reply to him about using me as bait. Now, all I felt from him was a gentle flow of trust. I was no longer an oddity he wished to seduce, but a useful ally. And from my discussion with Queen Teodora before we left Orrin, our liege regarded him in the same way. <br />
<br />
I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. It was one thing to have my suspicions. It was another to have them confirmed, which I had no doubt Darys was about to do. <br />
<br />
“When did the Skoloti Reverend Mother of Balance have her premonition?” I murmured. <br />
<br />
“Thirty-three winters ago.” <br />
<br />
Gorge rose in my throat at the proximity of my conception to the Reverend Mother’s premonition. <br />
<br />
“Can you give us the precise time of her prophecy?” Shi Hua asked. <br />
<br />
“The Spring Rituals,” Darys and I said at the same time. <br />
<br />
Everyone, even the guards and wardens, stared at me. I cleared my throat. <br />
<br />
“Did she see the manner in which a justice would gain sight?” Luc asked. <br />
<br />
“If you don’t mind, could I tell you the full story as I know it?” Darys smiled. “The tale will answer most of your questions. Then you can slice apart my recitation with your questions.”
I glanced at Po. <br />
<br />
He nodded and said, “Please continue with your story, Sister Darys.” <br />
<br />
To my amazement, it was Mateqai who blurted, “Your Majesties, with all due respect, it would be best if Sister Darys were formally questioned.” He glared at the Skoloti woman. “We had more than enough issues with Thief to warrant it.”<br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-25030424116237624872024-01-11T07:00:00.001-05:002024-01-11T07:00:00.136-05:00The Latest News<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHBJ-zP-VttluaRc9pWM6UnIgYmAqpp4KTex8kL6RMBwoYvhP99Dpiu_RLOiMoIbtATyISe7PoHtlY_cI_XKI9BBCCvX4EwoS_AD7-OWc3q2ecS0gn7FWVVuhJuXT8sxLLqkyx2Sgm1Q_Kdi7vCt7kQeiDZ-IgtcAbO9F29xhsOs2UeghMDOW5CoolEfa/s778/FaeFeloniesHarden500X750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNHBJ-zP-VttluaRc9pWM6UnIgYmAqpp4KTex8kL6RMBwoYvhP99Dpiu_RLOiMoIbtATyISe7PoHtlY_cI_XKI9BBCCvX4EwoS_AD7-OWc3q2ecS0gn7FWVVuhJuXT8sxLLqkyx2Sgm1Q_Kdi7vCt7kQeiDZ-IgtcAbO9F29xhsOs2UeghMDOW5CoolEfa/s320/FaeFeloniesHarden500X750.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>I'm still cleaning up the last bit of October's Kickstarter and finally sending out holiday cards and presents. If I can stay awake, that is.<p></p><p>Yep, I slept seventeen hours straight yesterday. Part of it is introvert exhaustion, part is Seasonal Affective Disorder, and part is the overcast skies in between winter storms.</p><p>When I am awake, I am writing, albeit bits and pieces. I was working on <i>A Cup of Conflict</i> when DH said, "I thought you were finishing <i>Death Goddess Walking</i> first."</p><p>My answer to him is not safe for publication.</p><p>Sometimes, we writers need to work on whatever the Muse demands. As long as my progress is forward, I consider it a win. However, <i>Conflict'</i>s chapter four is a little slow. I'm not sure yet if it's a real problem, or if Subconscious is setting up something for down the road. I'll be re-reading and editing it over the weekend.<br /></p><p>In the meantime, the revised Fae and Felonies (Millersburg Magick Mysteries #2) will be released on Monday, January 15th, in both ebook and print at your favorite retailers!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-38931467029135462812023-12-22T07:00:00.001-05:002023-12-23T01:33:17.502-05:00Happy Holidays<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCIkNIjczyQkhQzEdlI-N9ngv1HqaeenMq6xRYmqIjj9TAiLDydSLVqWkPy7cjAgqyzg_iLtBPW4r3-RhuWQdZd4gZjhcAzPLHucWzqDwZPYwxeriCaKqJlIBJGnBv5_v0pZDzNFAIlOXbFydOvxcYuiaKfWczmrVY5SF0S0kDmRVOaByrYLfTW9_6Cs/s6212/Depositphotos_320267888_XL.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4141" data-original-width="6212" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCIkNIjczyQkhQzEdlI-N9ngv1HqaeenMq6xRYmqIjj9TAiLDydSLVqWkPy7cjAgqyzg_iLtBPW4r3-RhuWQdZd4gZjhcAzPLHucWzqDwZPYwxeriCaKqJlIBJGnBv5_v0pZDzNFAIlOXbFydOvxcYuiaKfWczmrVY5SF0S0kDmRVOaByrYLfTW9_6Cs/s320/Depositphotos_320267888_XL.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>No matter which holidays you celebrate, I hope you and your families have a joyous and wonderful time!<br /><p></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-19564113251001460332023-12-20T07:00:00.001-05:002023-12-20T07:00:00.142-05:00Mismatched Eyes<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVsj7C6xSh7XwUCjP0xkvJmzQvoVIc4SPXxx1XTCUleJadu7NYJoOm_mYz6nH-EuQedZ2grC5fQUb7kHGPXV-5b6yJNdLhfmJcuAeftIw5TL1lkZo3St02EvgC0pwOo978xU6uLWnPM8xdNYtTcwKqNgOmzP26ZL9AWV4v-a5UFM1mvWG_Sxy4Dho7vpI/s7360/Depositphotos_164796188_xl-2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="7360" data-original-width="4912" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVsj7C6xSh7XwUCjP0xkvJmzQvoVIc4SPXxx1XTCUleJadu7NYJoOm_mYz6nH-EuQedZ2grC5fQUb7kHGPXV-5b6yJNdLhfmJcuAeftIw5TL1lkZo3St02EvgC0pwOo978xU6uLWnPM8xdNYtTcwKqNgOmzP26ZL9AWV4v-a5UFM1mvWG_Sxy4Dho7vpI/s320/Depositphotos_164796188_xl-2015.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>I didn't get Chapter 4 of<i> A Cup of Conflict </i>done prior to the cataract surgery on my right eye last Wednesday. Nor did I get my Christmas short story done either. And a private invitation to submit to an anthology had to be set aside as well.<br /><p></p><p> Unfortunately, I'm not getting much done in regards to writing or publishing this week. The visual acuity of my eyes is severely mismatched at the moment, resulting in double vision. It means I can't stay on my laptop more than a few minutes at a time. That problem will remain until I get my bionic left eye next Wednesday. So, by New Year's, fingers crossed, I'll be able to resume writing and editing.<br /></p><p>The really sucky thing is I can't drive the week before Christmas. Thankfully, most errands have been run, and online ordering and delivery exists! On the other hand, DH has to drive me to my follow-ups with the eye surgeon and other end-of-the-year medical appointments.</p><p>I really don't like turning into one of those helpless little old ladies. Not that I will ever be little. LOL However, it's nice to hear the surgical nurse say I'm too young to be having cataract surgery.<br /></p><p>Thank you to everyone who has bought and enjoyed my books. And to all my readers, I wish you a joyous holiday season!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-15601218897747418452023-12-13T07:00:00.004-05:002023-12-13T07:00:00.130-05:00A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6eaf3LtGMhxlPUoZN3CFXelvQTOX_FiSPLELJyOmqZV1VVFNkfcr4vjCRmncnZiQqJACk1kSg69G1VTBPoMELEatpLHoAzb8feTS_FUD6yha5Q4-ZEJXvYQ4-VC_oI-FdR3C4HyV9gMQwnaznSA79ABp1XGRHTjqFsPQrqvUMA-M9lsu8bCJhRA2GNbwV/s1125/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6eaf3LtGMhxlPUoZN3CFXelvQTOX_FiSPLELJyOmqZV1VVFNkfcr4vjCRmncnZiQqJACk1kSg69G1VTBPoMELEatpLHoAzb8feTS_FUD6yha5Q4-ZEJXvYQ4-VC_oI-FdR3C4HyV9gMQwnaznSA79ABp1XGRHTjqFsPQrqvUMA-M9lsu8bCJhRA2GNbwV/s320/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Here's another sneak peek of the next Justice novel, <i>A Cup of Conflict</i>!<br />
<br />
----------------<br />
<br />
The rest of our journey to Chengzhou, while slower than we wished, was relatively uneventful, thank the Twelve. Reverend Father Biming seemed relieved to be given a task suited to his Temple’s main duties, especially since it wasn’t near his new empress. Rumor did the rest. <br />
<br />
Once Thief spread word that their new emperor had returned to Jing, crowds of civilians lined the road the rest of the way to the capital. The throngs made all of the wardens and Imperial guards nervous, especially after the attack at the first caravanserai.<br />
<br />
However, Po took my advice to heart. He made a point of speaking with city and village’s civilian, guild, and Temple leaders. Shi Hua spoke to as many commoners as she could as one of them. At one point, I feared Mateqai’s heart would explode when a small child offered her new empress a bouquet of flower. However, Luc’s former warden managed to keep his blades sheathed.<br />
<br />
Each and every time, Po and Shi Hua told their stories of the Fall of Rambla and the Siege of Tandor as well as the demon attacks on Orrin. Finally, Po pointed out that only the quick actions of the Temples saved the city of Chengzhou. He played on the people’s sympathies by stating he lost his own family in the attack. And he would honor his brother’s memory by continuing his commitment to all the people of Jing and do his best to serve them. But it would be necessary for everyone, young and old, Temple and guild, noble and peasant alike, to work together.<br />
<br />
If anyone had told me the decadent, selfish ambassador I first met would become the epitome of an engaged, selfless ruler, I would have whacked that person with the flat of my blade. Luc seemed pleased with Po’s new behavior, but I suspected his feelings were due to the fact Po no longer had the time or energy to chase my affections.
Not that I would ever have returned them.<br />
<br />
During our two weeks on the road, Jonata and Long Feather struck up friendships with the pair of Skoloti wardens accompanying Sister Darys. There were times when Yar had to translate because neither side knew the Jing term for whatever they wished to convey.<br />
<br />
In between our stops when she had to act as one of Shi Hua’s guard, Sister Darys rode with Luc and me. She had started learning Issuran before she left Skoloti Territory and was thrilled to have someone to practice with.<br />
<br />
“What made you want to learn our language?” I asked.<br />
<br />
“It’s…interesting,” Sister Darys replied with a thick accent. “The Peaceful Sea and the Panthalassa Sea trade tongues are a patois of the coastal languages. Basically, an accidental dialect. However, Issuran is a deliberate blending of Chumash, Toscana, and Britannia speech.”<br />
<br />
I laughed. “I’m not sure it’s as deliberate as you think. The Britons needed a home. The Chumash needed help rebuilding their territory. The Toscana wanted to make money off supplying all parties and rule over the survivors. It was necessary for everyone to understand each other.”<br />
<br />
“Yet, somehow it all works.” She shook her head.<br />
<br />
“Aren’t the Skoloti made up of several different tribes from the Central Old Continent?” Luc asked.<br />
<br />
“Yes.” Danys smiled. “If it weren’t for the non-human invaders, we probably would have continued our separate ways, but like your Plains Nations, we joined together for survival. However, our languages descended from a mother tongue according to our Temples of Knowledge. Morphing them back together wasn’t as difficult for our ancestors.”<br />
<br />
“Would you teach me your language, also?” I asked.<br />
<br />
Are you sure you want to learn it?” Darys smiled. “It’s nothing like yours.”<br />
<br />
“It can’t be any worse than practicing Jing while seasick for two months,” I retorted.<br />
<br />
“I’ve never been on a boat,” she murmured.<br />
<br />
“Not even a small craft to fish or travel on a river or lake?” I asked.<br />
<br />
She shook her head. “I asked my novice brother about the oceans once. He said our seas are made of grass, not water.”<br />
<br />
“You spent a great amount of time in Huang He,” Luc said. “You never took a river barge?”<br />
<br />
“I admit I find anything beyond a stream to drink a bit unnerving,” Darys admitted.<br />
<br />
“My apologies, Sister,” I said. “I’ve spent most of my life in Standora or Orrin. In port cities, it’s hard to avoid the water.”<br />
<br />
“I suppose the Cradle’s Great Desert would be just as unimaginable to all of us,” she said.<br />
<br />
“The closest I’ve come is the Valley of Lost between Issura and Diné,” I said. “But we travelled to Diné during the rainy season. The Valley of the Lost went from a sea of sand to a sea of mud to a sea of flowers in a matter of hours.”<br />
<br />
Darys laughed heartily at my description.<br />
<br />
“It wasn’t that amusing at the time,” Luc grumbled. “We nearly lost you and Sisquoc in the flash flood one of the storms produced.”<br />
<br />
“Flash…flood?” Danys shook her head. “I do not understand. Like when a dam breaks?”<br />
<br />
“Not quite,” Luc said. “In the Valley of the Lost, Diné, or Cant, there’s a relatively thin layer of sand and dirt over bedrock. On the rare occasions of rain, there are no plants to drink the water. No loam to absorb it.”<br />
<br />
“So, the rain rises where it lands,” Danys ventured. “As if filling a container.”<br />
<br />
I laughed. “It does flow downhill. However, the water picks up everything on top of the bedrock. It becomes a slurry of mud and rocks. Nearly impossible to swim in, and immediately deadly if you hit a large rock.”<br />
<br />
“Or if a rock hits you,” she added.<br />
<br />
I nodded.<br />
<br />
“And the water can undercut protruding rock,” Luc added. “We found shelter on a high outcrop, but Anthea and Sisquoc were near the edge, keeping watch on the flood.”
He deliberately allowed the long pause to drive Darys to distraction.<br />
<br />
“What happened?” she blurted.<br />
<br />
“The edge crumbled beneath us,” I said. “Somehow, Sisquoc managed to toss me back so wardens could catch me. He fell and was swept into the maelstrom.” The old guilt hit me. The Wildling brother was so brave and decent, but he’d nearly lost his life many times in his attempts to protect me.<br />
<br />
“Anthea managed to time freeze the maelstrom Sisquoc was dragged into,” Luc continued. “One of the sisters with us is a mover. She and three others reached him before he was crushed or drowned, and they brought him back to our shelter.”<br />
<br />
Danys turned to me and blinked. “How big was this basin?”<br />
<br />
I couldn’t speak past my dry mouth.<br />
<br />
“Roughly fifteen leagues in diameter,” Luc said softly.<br />
<br />
Danys shook her head as she stared at me. “No one from our Temple of Balance has that level of power.”<br />
<br />
“Some of your justices have the ability to foresee events.” I couldn’t stop the bitterness seeping into my tone. “I would give anything for that talent. Maybe then, I could save the people who keep sacrificing themselves for me.”<br />
<br />
I nudged my borrowed mount, and the horse trotted away from Luc and Darys. I simply couldn’t deal with my alleged heroics when I had to burn the bodies of so many of my friends.<br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-34426155034069426112023-12-08T07:00:00.001-05:002023-12-08T07:00:00.132-05:00Back From Vegas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwO85-RGzj85hktXwuRBkUMs4kp5SQxNq2FJPYffEzVjUP_VdQIPv6P1U6dj2QWdEtNC-s2ZL9kaedMEBvTmXC-5p-4z1Iugo-HgrIDCoSIndaDT417uB8BU3aI6c3HUAOi6rxI0n4BqXHENOoIB4J4lTkGDPPxBAxU_w-lGw__bLHCV1-9dCuZg84Bxm/s1125/PestilenceinPumpkinSpice%20750x1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwO85-RGzj85hktXwuRBkUMs4kp5SQxNq2FJPYffEzVjUP_VdQIPv6P1U6dj2QWdEtNC-s2ZL9kaedMEBvTmXC-5p-4z1Iugo-HgrIDCoSIndaDT417uB8BU3aI6c3HUAOi6rxI0n4BqXHENOoIB4J4lTkGDPPxBAxU_w-lGw__bLHCV1-9dCuZg84Bxm/s320/PestilenceinPumpkinSpice%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>DH and I are fine. We left Las Vegas last Friday, long before the asshole opened fire at the UNLV campus on Wednesday. We're still exhausted from the trip, and I'm playing catch-up on things.<p></p><p>Like giving the dogs a bath. Bella and Blaze came home with a funky smell from the other dogs at the puppy hotel despite being groomed yesterday.</p><p>In the meantime, the Justice books are on sale for one more day because I didn't get around to taking them off sale early this morning.</p><p><i>Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice</i> will be $0.99 until the end of the year.</p><p>I need to get the Millersburg Magick Mysteries to the Kickstarter backers. (I re-edited the last two while DH drove.) I also need to finish this year's Christmas story before my cataract surgery next Wednesday.</p><p>Y'all will have Chapter 3 of <i>A Cup of Conflict</i> next Wednesday!<br /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Take care of yourselves and your loved ones. Life is terribly short.<br /></p><p></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-8556206063021998772023-11-29T07:00:00.004-05:002023-11-29T07:00:00.186-05:00A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvxrwKTzdfS5Stjs21ibcouvKvjzW-y5P-xVSU9MwemBVTbgS2O4p6mavgPncU9QF-rkjYaNdZRSthj_yPzH3gdzgMUnAylfe2BXoKgZ1BwwI8BLbX2u3vLIgaZrFMKy-UR8LtWT2M5FqzmHXokMNSaYW0c86ef8VK3R72MzowrGc67sGRKN1iiCUgv0c/s1125/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvxrwKTzdfS5Stjs21ibcouvKvjzW-y5P-xVSU9MwemBVTbgS2O4p6mavgPncU9QF-rkjYaNdZRSthj_yPzH3gdzgMUnAylfe2BXoKgZ1BwwI8BLbX2u3vLIgaZrFMKy-UR8LtWT2M5FqzmHXokMNSaYW0c86ef8VK3R72MzowrGc67sGRKN1iiCUgv0c/s320/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Here's the second unedited chapter of the newest novel at the Justice series!<br />
<br />
---------------<br />
<br />
The next day, folks from the area farms started arriving when they noticed the billowing smoke from the funeral pyres. A dozen dead renegades and nine dead guardsmen would have attracted attention in other ways if we hadn’t burned the bodies. The caravanserai director explained the situation an equal number of times before he finally posted a sign at the gates. <br />
<br />
Which only triggered more questions from the locals. Apparently, a good many of them were illiterate.<br />
<br />
Which prompted me to ask Shi Hua, Po, and their family about the education situation over our morning meal of porridge and boiled eggs.<br />
<br />
“The Temple of Knowledge has been trying to continue educating the children, but many of the peasants protest against it,” Shi Hua said.<br />
<br />
“Why?” I laid my spoon in my empty bowl and started cracking the shell of my first boiled egg now that it was cool enough to touch.<br />
<br />
“They don’t see the purpose of it.” Po shrugged. “There wasn’t a known demon attack during my mother’s entire reign. Reading, writing, and sums were only important against demons.”<br />
<br />
Shang snorted. “It didn’t help that the School of Sorcery wanted an ignorant peasantry to help them gain power.”<br />
<br />
“An ignorant peasantry?” I asked as I peeled off the last of the shell of my egg.<br />
<br />
“It’s part of the various philosophical schools attempts to discredit the Temples,” Yin Li explained. “The farmers complain there’s too much work to be done. The wise men of the philosophical school commiserate and ask why are your children not helping in the fields or with the herds? Because they are at the Temple of Knowledge half the day, the farmers complain. The wise men clasp their bosoms and say reading isn’t necessary to pull weeds and learning the continents and seas means nothing when one never leaves their province. Or even their village.”<br />
<br />
Yin Li’s exaggerated manner of portraying both the farmers and the sorcerers of the various philosophy schools was hilarious. But the actual contents of her speech concerned me. It sounded like one of the renegades’ whisper campaigns. Refusing to listen to clergy placed a major wedge in the civilians’ trust. And with Jing losing clergy at a similar rate as we were in Issura, this tactic would sorely affect the next generations of humans.<br />
<br />
The tactic might even help the demons to win the war.<br />
<br />
While most people considered Knowledge to be the weakest Temple, they were the bedrock of our civilization. They complied and disseminated all information. The brothers and sisters analyzed every report from the other Temples and bureaucrats. They saw trends in harvest and weather long before anyone else did. And their predictions were often correct.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t a matter of precognitive talent or pretending the heavens could foretell the future. Knowledge paid attention to the cycles around us. The rhythm of the earth. The song of the universe.<br />
<br />
And it made me wonder if Yin Li and Shi Hua had been held back from being tested for their talents by their own village elders. Granted, Luc’s father Itzel hadn’t presented him to a Temple until he was eight winters, but as merchants, the family was often on the road between nations. However, Itzal did so as soon as he saw Luc entertaining his sisters with animals he fashioned from light. Shi Hua had told me she hadn’t left her village until she was seven, but only because her aunt Yin Li had pushed her sister over Shi Hua’s distance speaking talents.<br />
<br />
“But surely the recent demon attack on Chengzhou would convince them—” Luc started.<br />
<br />
“One would think.” Shang’s emotions felt…haunted was the best word out of all the languages I knew. “But not even the wardens and soldiers with us could conceive we were under a demon attack until it was too late.”<br />
<br />
Yin Li laid her hand on his shoulder, lending her strength to him. “You need to tell the emperor what you told me, my love. He needs to know what he faces.”<br />
<br />
The porridge and eggs curdled in my stomach as the Conflict priest related how Reverend Chen and his army encountered our foes in a desert valley. Realizing his people was outnumbered, Chen signaled a retreat, only to be caught in a pincer attack from the rear. However, the Reverend Father didn’t panic. He ordered a charge in a desperate attempt to break through the demon lines. Shang estimated that twenty percent of the expedition fought free of the enemy, but most of them had been wounded, and they lost all but one healer.<br />
<br />
For the next two weeks, the demons chased the remnant of the Jing forces. People and horses died because there was no rest, no food, and no water. They couldn’t even stop long enough to burn the dead. Then, they had the demon-animated corpses chasing them as well as the demons themselves.<br />
<br />
When they encountered a defensible stand of rocks, Reverend Father Chen ordered Shang to take the few able-bodied priests and wardens east to seek assistance. An animated corpse had stabbed the Reverend Father in the gut. He knew it was a matter of time before he and the other injured survivors would die. Shang left the last canister of flash powder with Chen. The survivors heard something two days later, but they couldn’t be sure if it was an explosion or thunder.<br />
<br />
Eventually, Shang and the last dozen survivors encountered Darys’s army. The Skoloti had been warned of the demon army by their Reverend Mother of Balance, who was one of their seers. The talent to see the future was incredibly rare, even amongst those of my order.<br />
<br />
“The Skoloti fed us before transporting us to their closest Temple of Child.” Shang scrubbed his face with his hands. “Their army encountered scattered groups of demons and eliminated them. They never found any more Jing survivors.”<br />
<br />
Grief filled all of Po’s party. I never knew the Reverend Father, but Shi Hua had told me of her encounters with him. However, he must have been very imposing to a fourteen-year-old Light novice. To me, it sounded as if a devoted priest had chosen the only path he could after losing thousands of people.<br />
<br />
Fat yellow tears rolled down Shi Hua and Yin Li’s faces. Po rolled the beads of his moustache so fiercely, I fear he’d twist the blue hairs out by their roots.<br />
<br />
“Your Majesty?” I murmured.<br />
<br />
Po’s head jerked up. We had so rarely addressed each other by titles for the two months we were at sea. “Yes?”<br />
<br />
“You need to speak with every village elder and Temple clergy on the way Chengzhou.” I stared at him. “You need to tell them what happened to you in Tandor. The renegades. The skinwalkers. The demons. All of it.”<br />
<br />
“You truly believe tales of my torture and our starvation will entertain my people?” he mocked, but I recognized the flicker of fear in visage. I was sure my own countenance held it from time to time.<br />
<br />
“He can’t,” Shang protested. “Doing so will make him look weak.”<br />
<br />
“He survived the demon siege of Tandor,” Luc said. “He helped us save our citizens. Without him, Issura would have fallen last year.”<br />
<br />
“Twelve help us, was that only a year ago?” Po released the beads on his moustache. “It would be an excellent task for Reverend Father Biming.” He smiled. “And an excellent use of his particular talents.”<br />
<br />
“He might deem such a task as an insult, my husband,” Shi Hua said softly.<br />
<br />
“Which is why I’ll address him personally about the matter.” Po raised her right hand to his lips. “If you’ll excuse me, my empress and my guests.” He rose and strode from the room the caravanserai director had assigned Po for meeting the local leaders.<br />
<br />
Shang eyed me from across the table. “You hold a great deal of our emperor’s esteem.”<br />
<br />
“I also noticed you didn’t mention reporting to Reverend Father Chen’s replacement in Chengzhou,” I replied.<br />
<br />
“Ah, the vaunted logic of Balance.” He nodded. “We did, along with an emissary of the Skoloti. However, no one in Jing besides Reverend Father Fu, his head of household, and his chief warden are aware of our survival.” He shrugged. “Until now.”<br />
<br />
“If it needs to remain a secret, speak with the empress’s head of security Mataqai,” Luc suggested.<br />
<br />
“Do not worry, High Brother.” She Hua grinned. “I already have. As far as anyone else is concerned, High Brother Shang, Sister Darys, and their party are part of the Empress’s Guard.”<br />
Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-17819056975491934752023-11-22T07:00:00.004-05:002023-11-22T07:00:00.133-05:00A Cup of Conflict - Chapter 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycYfuz5hYQ7wfkDdb0MOctt1_XfI1gNJdiVhaMfxFbmSQNdZUF0pYBlWc1kFLKoDGPqyy4ioi1CzYcgPiFck0AAemOpqb6oKejsnAQ7lx7vUc3EOGVqc-D2ZlUDMc9COuxpebC8svKDmtiyLx7pSQ_lyD3LnNgLWfpuMvpk5RlkG_D_ud8G0_iaEK6WSq/s1125/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiycYfuz5hYQ7wfkDdb0MOctt1_XfI1gNJdiVhaMfxFbmSQNdZUF0pYBlWc1kFLKoDGPqyy4ioi1CzYcgPiFck0AAemOpqb6oKejsnAQ7lx7vUc3EOGVqc-D2ZlUDMc9COuxpebC8svKDmtiyLx7pSQ_lyD3LnNgLWfpuMvpk5RlkG_D_ud8G0_iaEK6WSq/s320/ACupofConflict%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>I know people are patiently (or not so patiently in some cases) for the next volume of the Justice series. So here's the unedited first chapter of <i>A Cup of Conflict</i>!<br />
<br />
---------------------------<br />
<br />
I watched as Sister Yin Li of Love threw herself into the arms of her lost paramour, who we all thought had died with Reverend Father Chen’s doomed expedition. Their young son Yin Shang followed suit. The reunited family laughed and cried and hugged. <br />
<br />
High Brother Shang of Conflict was quite a handsome man. I could understand why Yin Li was physically attracted to him. But the wave of emotion emanating from the pair was something far deeper. I leaned close to Luc and whispered, “So that’s Shang?”<br />
<br />
I could feel my love turn to look at me. Could you tone down the level of lust for another man you’re sending my way?<br />
<br />
That isn’t amusing.<br />
<br />
I don’t think so either. At least, you’ve now confirmed you were never physically attracted to Quan.<br />
<br />
“That’s what it took!” I glared at Luc.<br />
<br />
Behind him, the Skoloti Sister of Thief Darys looked at us in confusion. Luc’s warden Yar smirked. I had a feeling my own warden Jonata wore the same smirk behind me. Sister Yin Li of Love and High Brother Shang of Conflict were too busy kissing to pay any attention to the rest of us.<br />
<br />
The merchants, who had stopped here for the night on their way from the coast to the capital as we did, drifted through the courtyard of the caravanserai and took inventory of their wares and stock that survived the battle. Shop keepers who resupplied travelers did the same. If it weren’t for the forethought of Darys, Shang, and the rest of their rescue squad, everyone at this rest stop would be dead.<br />
<br />
Crown Prince Bao Quan Po, heir to the Jing Empire’s Dragon Throne, walked over and stood at my left side, but his attention was also on Yin Li and Shang. “She never kissed me like that.”<br />
<br />
“You were a worshipper, not her true love,” I snapped.<br />
<br />
“But still, with the size of my donations, I expect more,” Po complained.<br />
<br />
“I should be the only one receiving your donations, my husband.” Bao Shi Hua, the soon to be empress consort of Jing, stalked through the mayhem, her bow still in her hand. She glared at her spouse as if she considered using her weapon on him.<br />
<br />
A sly grin filled Po’s face. “You never kiss me like that either.”<br />
<br />
The tiny woman reached up, grabbed the edges of his robe, and yanked him down for a thorough kiss. When she released him, she also smirked. A glance at his silk pants said why. “What were you saying?”<br />
<br />
“Not a blessed thing, my wife.” He released a deep breath. “Should we rent a cell for Yin Li and Shang so we may have some privacy?”<br />
<br />
“I’ll take care of it.” I made a shooing motion. “Please go back to your room before you feel the need for another public display of affection.”<br />
<br />
The royal couple held hands as they retreated to the spiral stone staircase leading to the second story. It was good to see them showing some affection. While Shi Hua was only interested in women and Po was interested in anything that moved, I was glad they were trying to make their political marriage work.<br />
<br />
“Should we interrupt?” I asked Luc.<br />
<br />
“Quan and Shi Hua or Shang and Yin Li?”<br />
<br />
I eyed my own paramour. “If you interrupt the prince, he will ask you to join them.”<br />
<br />
“Unfortunate, but true.” Luc shot me a wicked grin. “Maybe if we both join them?”<br />
<br />
I held up my hand. “You are on your own for this one, High Brother. I’m going to take a soma tear and try to get some sleep.” I turned to head up the same stairs the prince and his wife had just climbed.<br />
<br />
“Wait, Chief Justice,” Sister Darys called out. “Aren’t you going to question me and my party? We could be renegades for all you know.”<br />
<br />
I pivoted to face her. “Sister, I already know you aren’t a skinwalker. If you’re a demon, you would have ripped out both my throat and the Lady Shi Hua’s a few moments ago when we were standing next to each other. And if you’re a renegade, all I ask is that you let me have a good night’s sleep and a cup of Jing black tea in the morning before you poison me. Again.” <br />
<br />
I turned and walked toward the staircase once again. Frankly, Reverend Father Jin and Reverend Father Biming were responsible for truthspelling the newcomers in order to protect their soon-to-be crowned emperor since I was technically a foreign ambassador. And Balance help me, I was mightily tired of doing their job.<br />
<br />
“Excuse me!” Shi Hua’s shout from the third-floor balcony actually broke Yin Li and Shang’s embrace.<br />
<br />
I looked up to find the empress-to-be leaning over the balcony railing. Everyone in the courtyard quieted.<br />
<br />
“Can someone please remove the dead assassin in our bed? The crown prince and I are trying to conceive an heir!”<br />
Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-7045989834372807132023-11-15T07:00:00.023-05:002023-11-15T19:09:40.933-05:00Writing More than Showing On the Stats<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQr2igTwxZpbjoCR1TCRRV-SJuMb44q7KJiEwDeikgh8zySxaKBXOLiquQ0tbu7ZgoFvGgrzMgDwfy6WsEI9gqmjV9C49xHmynNx_cmJ3sI5fL3oAbCoBQ03Kst_M7YPj0DkXr9IngxfvZHBxo8Nmz-wNPbYP78X7tVK2Hli-Ye-8J1_xOmzYfkP4I31H/s750/JusticetheBeginning%20500x750.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQr2igTwxZpbjoCR1TCRRV-SJuMb44q7KJiEwDeikgh8zySxaKBXOLiquQ0tbu7ZgoFvGgrzMgDwfy6WsEI9gqmjV9C49xHmynNx_cmJ3sI5fL3oAbCoBQ03Kst_M7YPj0DkXr9IngxfvZHBxo8Nmz-wNPbYP78X7tVK2Hli-Ye-8J1_xOmzYfkP4I31H/s320/JusticetheBeginning%20500x750.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Over on the side ribbon (if you're looking at the fullscreen version of this blog, I keep a list of stats on current and future writing projects. Right now, it doesn't look like I'm doing much of anything. My NaNo project is an Alter Ego book, the first in three(?) years. <p></p><p>Also, I'm double-checking for typos in <i>Magick and Murder</i> after finding a few I missed in <i>Fae and Felonies</i> while proofing the paperback. Also, there's the annual Christmas short to write. I need to have everything done before DH and I set out on our first real vacation since GK was born. (The treks to Ohio to visit family do not count as vacations because they definitely weren't relaxing. Neither were the staycations to fix house stuff.)</p><p>After we return from our trip, I've got two eye surgeries scheduled in December to fix the cataracts I have thanks to the tamoxifen. Like I told my oncologist, if there's a weird side effect to a drug, I'll have it. Merry Christmas to me.</p><p>But that also means, my writing may be limited until my body processes the new bionic lenses, as my buddy Jo would say, and we figure out if I need glasses or just reading glasses or *fingers crossed* I don't need anything at all. By January, I should be able to drive al night again.</p><p>Can I now? Technically yes, but I don't feel comfortable doing it.</p><p>This is just one of many things a person deals with on the way the big 6-0. Yet, I still want Barbies for my birthday, and I plan on hitting my favorite comic book shop when I'm in Houston. I feel very paradoxical at the moment.</p><p>However, I will be taking Baby Blue with me on vacation. DH no longer flies so the drive to our destination will allow me to only write. While technically a laptop, Baby Blue isn't much more than a glorified tablet with a keyboard. She only has WORD and EXCEL loaded, and the wi-fi remains turned off unless there's a dire emergency that my phone can't handle. And there isn't much a smart phone can't handle these days. However, I only have my personal e-mail on the phone.</p><p>If all goes to plan, I should have a few giant updates on stats at the beginning of December. Then, things will be quiet until the beginning of January.</p><p>P.S. The entire Justice series is currently on sale at all retailers (or it should be) until December 10th. Pestilence in Pumpkin Spice (Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse #1) is $0.99 until Deember 31st!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-72072857746702225492023-11-06T07:00:00.001-05:002023-11-06T07:00:00.130-05:00A Justice Super Sale!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyJ_fQKIi5pz1FNkGqidUmSvQQpXGcw7ScILXB_Vn1q2nKRPJPR8UwDfpBCHsHKX2A06_iTTD_Vj1BtZu77tLrnMDrCjxF4Cy4vowtsCt9i5pysdwddzm6XpiwUi5KLXsLhNnBcq26S6sJ2MZHLD3uF2b4J8LO1AMqxxiFnPqpVEm3Upsyau-fnKhAFw/s750/JusticetheBeginning%20500x750.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyJ_fQKIi5pz1FNkGqidUmSvQQpXGcw7ScILXB_Vn1q2nKRPJPR8UwDfpBCHsHKX2A06_iTTD_Vj1BtZu77tLrnMDrCjxF4Cy4vowtsCt9i5pysdwddzm6XpiwUi5KLXsLhNnBcq26S6sJ2MZHLD3uF2b4J8LO1AMqxxiFnPqpVEm3Upsyau-fnKhAFw/s320/JusticetheBeginning%20500x750.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Yep, I'm having a Justice Super Sale from now until December 10th at all retailers! All proceeds received by Angry Sheep Publishing from this sale will be sent to Maui Strong for the benefit of residents of Lahaina, who lost everything in the wildfire that destroyed the town.<p></p><p>All e-novels are marked down to $2.99 and all electronic short stories, even the collection <i>Justice: The Beginning</i>, are $0.99.</p><p>Share this with friends you think might be interested in the adventures of Justice Anthea and Brother Luc!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-20389063085300454172023-11-03T12:00:00.004-04:002023-11-03T12:50:52.210-04:00Author Fest and the End of Daylight Savings Time<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYOOLZrNaK2gxEqJ_CZ_JDLabV8UreWaQrrrqfQom4YVTacvqa6Nysk-ylwrMbUSYGBhzZcYkbD1OQk1Kauvj-z8sf5NUMyIzkYSLiIWk_cPXAOULPRxSwl7aPmMuteq2y7kfn390GLJGW-L23PQQW4K8SbS9qYWQpS0YGbNSj4Ekv7UF_vvqkJv4xK2v/s1080/23AF_Insta.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYOOLZrNaK2gxEqJ_CZ_JDLabV8UreWaQrrrqfQom4YVTacvqa6Nysk-ylwrMbUSYGBhzZcYkbD1OQk1Kauvj-z8sf5NUMyIzkYSLiIWk_cPXAOULPRxSwl7aPmMuteq2y7kfn390GLJGW-L23PQQW4K8SbS9qYWQpS0YGbNSj4Ekv7UF_vvqkJv4xK2v/s320/23AF_Insta.png" width="320" /></a></div>This afternoon, I'm prepping for tonight's Author Fest. Hope to see you there!<p></p><p>P.S. Don't forget to turn back your clocks tomorrow night!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-75548248802678141652023-11-01T16:00:00.002-04:002023-11-02T10:48:42.572-04:00Author Fest and the Start of NaNoWriMo<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BYAEdpM-ad0YYOwBUg1WyIoga_H37pZwx1mGhyphenhyphenWGz3PKx7vV93yQ1IGzKS_Tco3L-PIcyI_7AxTLrD89GaW_fvlwxnc2_9GUWBe0NKKEM_-1ozvzxSuDDQYw4tjFfTUXebqs2V7uvyrOr63E9B-LqXt8-nLzhjrVu7EMlWRP4u5biOjZUUnPX5DWyC8/s1080/23AF_Insta.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BYAEdpM-ad0YYOwBUg1WyIoga_H37pZwx1mGhyphenhyphenWGz3PKx7vV93yQ1IGzKS_Tco3L-PIcyI_7AxTLrD89GaW_fvlwxnc2_9GUWBe0NKKEM_-1ozvzxSuDDQYw4tjFfTUXebqs2V7uvyrOr63E9B-LqXt8-nLzhjrVu7EMlWRP4u5biOjZUUnPX5DWyC8/s320/23AF_Insta.png" width="320" /></a></div>The Findlay-Hancock Library is holding their annual Author Fest during the city's Art Walk on November 3rd, from 5:30 until 8:00 p,m, I'll be there along with a couple of dozen local authors.<p></p><p>It's not often I do public appearances because of my health, but I love supporting our local library! Stop by and say "Hi!"</p><p>Also, today is the first day of National Novel Writing Month, AKA NaNoWriMo or just NaNo. There are no rules to NaNo. If anyone tells you there are, they're full of it.</p><p>The objective is to getting writers to sit down and concentrate on their craft for the month. I like to use is to jumpstart a new novel.</p><p>So, if you're a reader or a writer, there's lots of stuff going on this week. On the plus side, the weather should be a tad warmer with no snow!</p><p>See you at the library on Friday!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-22339771345852657662023-10-25T16:30:00.001-04:002023-10-25T16:56:07.452-04:00Death Goddess Walking - Chapter 7<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TAPgqIrcX0uBnhKxhTlbdyHolWHwpQxOyRcoR4qWU_3gaQoTtd8CK3SOSqpZT2j20ht96JWuUDyp5fZhEMUx57WAilxL7iOlWgAxd0y3znPLFmYIJvteV6vgfiUEkGfW1NVv3akYeBUzAFQ_0dPbC3LQnWhtqwi3DdqnGT940nUMHQQb-IHiYkzkqbWq/s750/DeathGoddessWalking500X750.jpg" style="clear: left; display: block; float: left; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgm_yHbjNHj2XXItwgK4bBJvivRXj-bVVn_127dvXIMe6jla6FVNEKPH2ohX2lfi68j1DGLDjDGdKsK2pX9wMnTKVJ4rfAfU-G4zDNNiQw7M_2vVZPqKATMQGfpm9n-h1fXo3H5PGteQut1j9J91lDSzzv4X1VtaPaTapNLIIIg_vXyZmB2-s4sc0DKul/s750/DeathGoddessWalking500X750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgm_yHbjNHj2XXItwgK4bBJvivRXj-bVVn_127dvXIMe6jla6FVNEKPH2ohX2lfi68j1DGLDjDGdKsK2pX9wMnTKVJ4rfAfU-G4zDNNiQw7M_2vVZPqKATMQGfpm9n-h1fXo3H5PGteQut1j9J91lDSzzv4X1VtaPaTapNLIIIg_vXyZmB2-s4sc0DKul/s320/DeathGoddessWalking500X750.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Here's the unedited seventh chapter of my current work-in-progress!</div>
<br />
------------<br />
<br />
<i>The pharaoh must know his enemies better than he knows himself in order to protect the people of Kemet.</i> – The Lost Books of Neit, Djehuti’s library at Akasha<br />
<br />
<br />
Billie turned to find Nettie glaring at her, a look that bordered on homicidal rage. Despite the professor’s fury, icy calm descended over Billie. “I’m going back upstairs to grab my files and laptop. Wait right here.” Silence was her only answer. <br />
<br />
In fact, Nettie still hadn’t spoken minutes later when Billie pulled into the alley and parked in the detached garage behind the house. At least, the professor hadn’t argued about heading home. Billie switched off the ignition, and the two women sat in the dark quiet.<br />
<br />
“You have no idea—”<br />
<br />
Billie slapped her gloved hand on the steering wheel, interrupting Nettie’s attempted tirade. “How could you be this stupid!” She sucked in a deep breath, tension filling the air she drew. Blowing it out, she tried again. “I know these things seem real to you, but they’re not.”<br />
<br />
“Like the dead people you talk to?”<br />
<br />
Nettie’s words pierced Billie’s soul. Thank goodness, the professor couldn’t see her wince in the gloom. “That’s different.”<br />
<br />
“How?” came the sharp retort.<br />
<br />
“It just is.” Fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Please, promise me you’ll take your meds, Nettie.”<br />
<br />
The shuffle of winter clothing and the slamming of the car door were her answer. Sighing, Billie collected her laptop case and accordion folder and followed Nettie into the house.<br />
<br />
High-pitched barks greeted her in the kitchen before a flurry of black fur butted her legs.<br />
<br />
“Porter!” She dropped her armload onto the table and knelt to hug the dog. Licks covered her face. She fell over, laughing at his enthusiastic greeting.<br />
<br />
She looked up at the human silence. Nettie and the twins stared at her. The professor’s lips remained pursed in anger though a flare of something else lit her eyes. Surprise covered Kyra and Reyna’s faces before Kyra’s normal smirk returned.<br />
<br />
Kyra’s eyebrow rose before she said, “Porter?”<br />
<br />
Heat flamed Billie’s face. “It was the first name I could come up with. Where’d you find him?” He leaned into her hand as she scratched his ears. “I’ve been looking all over for you, boy.”<br />
<br />
Reyna crossed her arms. “I heard something at the front door a few minutes ago. When I opened it, he trotted in like he owned the place. Went up to your room and jumped on your bed.”<br />
<br />
“Then he growled at her when she tried to push him off.” Kyra shot an amused look at her sister. “He came down right before we heard your car pull up.”<br />
<br />
Reyna tilted her head. “What is he?”<br />
<br />
Kyra rolled her eyes. “Duh. A dog.” She examined him as Billie hit a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear based on his groan of pleasure. “A damn ugly one at that.”<br />
<br />
His unusually big ears shot straight up. A low rumble started deep in his chest.<br />
<br />
Billie patted his back. “Ignore her. She insults everyone.” His head swiveled in her direction, tongue hanging out in a canine grin.<br />
<br />
She stood and reached for her purse to get her phone. “Let me get a picture of you.”<br />
<br />
Black fur leapt past her outstretched hand. He grabbed the handle in his mouth and took off for the hallway with the purse.<br />
<br />
Anger burned away her initial shock. “Come back here!” She raced after him, wanting to retrieve her phone before he turned the leather tote into a chew toy.<br />
<br />
Behind her, sarcasm spiced Nettie’s words. “I don’t think he wants his picture taken.”<br />
<br />
##<br />
<br />
Monday morning, Billie strode into the Franklin County probate court room. Sunday had been entire waste of time. After some sneaky maneuvering, she’d managed to snap a photo of the dog, but someone kept taking down the flyers she’d taped to fences and utility poles around their neighborhood and the campus. If the damn canine had opposable thumbs, she’d suspect he was the culprit. In fact, Nettie drew enormous amusement from and even encouraged some of his antics. Like letting him into the bathroom when Billie was in the shower.<br />
<br />
Thank goodness, she finished most of the prep work for her case on the morning’s docket on Saturday. She was checking in with the clerk when a familiar, slimy voice said, “Good morning, Ms. Edmunds.”<br />
<br />
Billie braced herself before raising her head from the sign-in sheet. Jim Gorman stood beside her, not a wrinkle in his expensive suit. “Mr. Gorman.” Stepping out of the way, she turned to find a seat in the crowded room.<br />
<br />
“I’d like to schedule your deposition this week.”<br />
<br />
Plastering a fake smile in place, she pivoted to face him. “Have your secretary call mine.”<br />
<br />
His return smile hinted he wouldn’t make this easy on her. Why he and Cyrus Johnson, Jr., felt the need to ruin her as well as the now-widowed Mrs. Johnson made no sense. “I was hoping we could talk after court. Maybe clear up some issues before your word becomes a matter of record.”<br />
<br />
If it weren’t for the chignon she wore, Billie was sure every single hair on her scalp would be standing straight up. “I have nothing to say off the record, Mr. Gorman.”<br />
<br />
She turned to find Brittany Johnson and her attorney near the courtroom’s main door with someone Billie had only seen in newspapers before. Les Wyatt, Cyrus Johnson’s business partner.<br />
<br />
All three stared at her. Crap. Wyatt’s gaze held simple curiosity, but from the look of shock on Brittany’s face to her attorney’s suspicious expression, they’d both come to a very wrong conclusion. Damn, the stupid depo would now be a total nightmare. No doubt, Gorman, being the skanky bastard he was, would make sure Cyrus Junior’s brother and sister knew he’d spoken with Billie, though he put his own little nasty spin on the conversation.<br />
<br />
And leaning against the back wall, but well away from his stepmom, was Cyrus Johnson Junior. A NASA laser had less intensity than the hate-filled gaze he shot at her. Pity still filled her for the man. It had been obvious he’d carried a torch for Brittany, long before dear old dad married her. Now, Cyrus Junior wanted to punish the poor girl for choosing his father over him.<br />
<br />
Billie clenched her hand on the handle of her case and shuffled through the crowd to find an available seat. Thank goodness, none of her current clients were here to see the Freudian drama.<br />
<br />
After a few more minutes, the bailiff announced the judge, who called the court to order. Typical minutiae filled the first half hour. Then Judge Jackson announced the Johnson estate.<br />
<br />
Despite her interest in the evidentiary hearing, Billie couldn’t make out the conversation at the bench. Her weird sixth sense kicked into gear. Something was about to happen. Something very, very wrong. The judge’s questions buzzed into white noise as she scanned the people around him.<br />
<br />
Her weird feeling didn’t come Brittany or her attorney. Cyrus Junior was tense, but nothing screamed danger from him. No, it was Junior’s attorney. Gorman, normally Mr. Cool-and-Collected, fingered his right suit jacket pocket. The wrongness of his movements rippled across her nerves. They were too alien, too reptilian. His actions reminded her of something she couldn’t quite place. She only caught a glimpse of the item he pulled from his pocket, the bulk of it hidden in his sleeve. From the bailiff’s angle on the other side of the group, he hadn’t seen a damn thing, and the court reporter was too busy typing to notice.<br />
<br />
Gorman shifted on his heels the instant Brittany Johnson’s attorney leaned forward to make his point with the judge. Something seemed to take over Billie’s body, a voice inside her head screaming to move. Now.<br />
<br />
She threw herself over the railing and into the court’s well, but not before Gorman reached for Brittany. Sharpened stone appeared in his hand. He yanked the pregnant widow to his chest.<br />
<br />
Too late, too late, too late, the voice in the back of her head screamed. She was too fucking far away. Time dropped into first gear. What she wouldn’t give for a reverse. The bailiff’s eyes locked on Billie, not the endangered woman. His mouth opened and his hand dropped to his baton.<br />
<br />
One step.<br />
<br />
Billie shook off the woman in the gallery who grabbed at her and tried to pull her back over the railing.<br />
<br />
Two steps.<br />
<br />
Cyrus Junior jumped in front of Gorman and Brittany to intercept Billie. She drove her elbow to Junior’s gut and a palm strike to his chin. He started to collapse.<br />
<br />
Three steps.<br />
<br />
No choice. She plowed into Gorman and Brittany, both hands reaching for the stone knife as he brought it up, no doubt to slice the poor girl’s throat. She seized his wrist, twisting to land on top of Gorman. Then her eyes met his.<br />
<br />
Red flared in the irises. A predator stared at her, analyzing the threat she could be. Lids narrowed and lips spread into more of death rictus than a smile. Whatever looked out of those orbs wasn’t human.<br />
<br />
Not that she ever thought Gorman was human to begin with.<br />
<br />
The thing inside the other attorney used the momentum to swing his arm around, rolling with his landing. Shit. She’d impale herself on the damn stone knife.<br />
<br />
Wrenching her body, she crashed hard on the tile floor. The lizard grin widened as he realized he had the advantage. When Gorman came down on top of her, the impact of his body drove out any oxygen left in her lungs. Ignoring her body’s screams for air, she focused all her strength on keeping the jagged stone from ventilating her chest.<br />
<br />
Gorman’s mouth opened, but the sounds issuing from it weren’t any more human than the eyes were. It didn’t mean she didn’t recognize them though. The monsters in the cemetery made the same hisses and clicks during the confrontation with them Friday night.<br />
<br />
There was a muffled thunk, then the pressure she’d been fighting disappeared. Thick fingers flexed and released before the stone knife clattered on the tiles. Gorman’s alien eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed with a puff of tainted breath.<br />
<br />
Above them, the bailiff kicked away the weapon, but he still held his baton ready. Sobbing came from somewhere nearby. Eyes wide and mouth gaping as he clutched his stomach, Cyrus Junior stared at her, or maybe he stared at the unconscious form of his own attorney.<br />
<br />
Judge Jackson appeared next to the bailiff and stared down at her. “What the devil are you doing wrestling with another attorney in my court, Ms. Edmunds?”<br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-10067985113218374632023-10-20T19:00:00.003-04:002023-10-21T14:06:22.782-04:00Back from My Mini Vacation<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkKgXH3khFqTZjLUoXCs_S0HDcTypqDkDx2E6KQVACVBD09gXcsvYTPeOPxbJ_D9kXuNbEe9FRp_B0RJQRDXrJUhWWTZCfES95Rj0ePVCYOUOM7lbS1rEjFxlRreIwDK8o3bJ7m6A_lhfMUfF_D4AjZWsO7zIrce55p25uOHCvcxiSN1AtNd17uqe7n5o/s4804/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="4804" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkKgXH3khFqTZjLUoXCs_S0HDcTypqDkDx2E6KQVACVBD09gXcsvYTPeOPxbJ_D9kXuNbEe9FRp_B0RJQRDXrJUhWWTZCfES95Rj0ePVCYOUOM7lbS1rEjFxlRreIwDK8o3bJ7m6A_lhfMUfF_D4AjZWsO7zIrce55p25uOHCvcxiSN1AtNd17uqe7n5o/s320/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I joined a friend in Chicago for a couple of days this week. For both of us, it was work-related stress relief. She was taking a certification course in downtown, so I drove over to meet her. While she was attending her class, I wrote in our hotel room. We both got plenty of exercise walking around Michigan Avenue, searching out some good food. Plus, it was so nice talking to a person I've known for decades.<p></p><p>In the meantime, the <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/soccermoms/millersburg-magick-mysteries" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Millersburg Magick Mysteries Kickstater camapaign</a> successfully funded. Tomorrow, I'll send out the surveys. All rewards, both digital and physical, will be sent before Thanksgiving. If you missed the campaign, contact me through the tab at the top of the website, and I'll accommodate you.</p><p><i>Halloween Harvest</i>, in which my story "A Place at the Table" appeared, is part of the <a href="https://www.storybundle.com/horror" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">2023 Halloween Storybundle. </a>We're supporting Maui Strong, an aid organization that is helping the residents of Lahaina, who lost everything in wildfires earlier this year.</p><p>The second and third books of the Millersburg Magick Mysteries series will be released over all retailers the next three and a half weeks.</p><p>Also, the Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse series will be released on all retailers on November 8th.</p><p>That's all the news for now. Next week, I'll be posting more samples of <i>Death Goddess Walking</i>.</p><p>Have a most excellent weekend, everyone!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-31401779178771166792023-10-13T18:30:00.001-04:002023-10-13T18:54:06.246-04:00New Release - Demons Run at Halloween<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcQPLUrman76s1NCTQ9LNjLGWRHQohdFevxlgIGU8fFjZXrhzcXdHg4erP_cQ2w-dy6WJEY3ofwQidyu3sNYyeK-fMHCMsyHL-I_Wu6Z2FqSLXm9JRwUb8LnPP3101vc-grnk2gnE96i-KhsCAsVNrrtlF_YCGQD2CuMfvOzQWDR-BnmAl6VGkc2nQZc/s1125/DemonsrunatHalloween%20750x1125.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcQPLUrman76s1NCTQ9LNjLGWRHQohdFevxlgIGU8fFjZXrhzcXdHg4erP_cQ2w-dy6WJEY3ofwQidyu3sNYyeK-fMHCMsyHL-I_Wu6Z2FqSLXm9JRwUb8LnPP3101vc-grnk2gnE96i-KhsCAsVNrrtlF_YCGQD2CuMfvOzQWDR-BnmAl6VGkc2nQZc/s320/DemonsrunatHalloween%20750x1125.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Why, yes! I did have a new release drop today!<p></p><p>Demons Run at Halloween started as a stretch reward back in 2022 for the Soccer Moms of the Apocalypse series. This is a prequel novella set ten years after Ed and Laura Hudson (i.e. Pestilence's in-laws) retired from demon hunting for the Vatican.</p><p>But it's a fun, stand-alone story and perfect for Halloween!</p>
<br />
<b><u>Blurb</u></b><br />
Got a demon infestation? Call the people who can eradicate your Hellspawn problem! Vatican operators are ready to assist you! <br />
<br />
Retired demon hunters Ed and Laura Hudson live the quiet, boring suburban life in Oakfield, Illinois, with their young sons Gene and Theo. Until a gruesome murder raises the senior Hudsons’ suspicions. And the archbishop of Chicago demands proof before he’ll send in a team.<br />
<br />
Can Laura and Ed keep their sons safe during trick-or-treating while investigating the murder? Or has the suburban boredom dulled their hunting skills?<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CJ7XYKPB?crid=701XG0JAW84V&keywords=Suzan+Harden&qid=1694991202&s=books&sprefix=suzan+harden%2Cstripbooks%2C105&sr=1-2&linkCode=ll1&tag=wiwiwa-20&linkId=81fad94037fc04fd5f314c1427381183&language=en_US&ref_=as_li_ss_tl" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Amazon</a><br />
<a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/id6467193679" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Apple</a><br />
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/demons-run-at-halloween-suzan-harden/1144103470?ean=2940185981818" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a><br />
<a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=8ILYEAAAQBAJ&pli=1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Google Play</a><br />
<a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/demons-run-at-halloween" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Kobo</a><br />
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1455392" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Smashwords</a><br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-35699484502478828982023-10-11T12:00:00.001-04:002023-10-11T12:18:00.417-04:00Last Week for the Millersburg Magick Mysteries Kickstarter Campaign!<p><a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/soccermoms/millersburg-magick-mysteries?ref=26d9ai" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtkToRaFOS_6D98iL5Xk5zLeZUP5oomJu0g9tbgj4Gmkahr9GNAWa9ZxS1GIEqPx7NUM_2wP_g4A45jDzK9JhgyCHKtSKPF6-5b4CusmYh9OX14F2VnlwWNan6rBLB7uIRcOb1JDEAO6Kb4BTcNeMG3rogKWrI8r1u3DGm1r1Aa1IsU5MlYM58cJ2GnY/s4804/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="4804" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtkToRaFOS_6D98iL5Xk5zLeZUP5oomJu0g9tbgj4Gmkahr9GNAWa9ZxS1GIEqPx7NUM_2wP_g4A45jDzK9JhgyCHKtSKPF6-5b4CusmYh9OX14F2VnlwWNan6rBLB7uIRcOb1JDEAO6Kb4BTcNeMG3rogKWrI8r1u3DGm1r1Aa1IsU5MlYM58cJ2GnY/s320/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The Millersburg Magick Mysteries Kickstarter Campaign is down to its last six days!<p></p><p>Get all three e-books, plus Amish, Vamps & Thieves (Bloodlines #4) which introduced several of the Millersburg adults, for only $10. Yep, that's half the price you would pay if you get all four books from an online retailer.</p><p>It's pretty simple. Kickstarter handles the transactions, so you're not giving me any credit card numbers. If you pledge for a physical reward, I'll need your snail mail address, but that's it. Between Kickstarter's rules and my own personal policy, no one else sees your personal info.</p><p>These YA books would make lovely holiday gifts for your young person.</p><p>Millersburg Magick Mysteries closes on Tuesday, October 17th, at 11:59 PM EDT. Check out this campaign before it's too late!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-23665419448955046332023-10-05T18:45:00.001-04:002023-10-05T18:51:32.958-04:00Millersburg Magick Mysteries Kickstarter Campaign Funded!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4P0s7RiFEj-9WU4qj89uqhF93NBt7UV4RoHhvf4f1oIatnKL4iCCj0hlzmL5FSTt0x7UpWvF5V60wYUUUj86OtHkWrybCcnn7EnGE7DvIr0VsiWK3mZY4e5diNzzhy8bHFkCUjpX0pt5hBRWdq_W3rgWA6imTyymAoAyseg0dxq5Ayx8E-ZR34FsygEB/s4804/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="4804" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4P0s7RiFEj-9WU4qj89uqhF93NBt7UV4RoHhvf4f1oIatnKL4iCCj0hlzmL5FSTt0x7UpWvF5V60wYUUUj86OtHkWrybCcnn7EnGE7DvIr0VsiWK3mZY4e5diNzzhy8bHFkCUjpX0pt5hBRWdq_W3rgWA6imTyymAoAyseg0dxq5Ayx8E-ZR34FsygEB/s320/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I'm amazed and grateful my second Kickstarter funded in less than a week. I'd barely started promoting it. So a huge "Thank You" to everyone who's backed the campaign!<p></p><p>If you haven't checked it out yet, <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/soccermoms/millersburg-magick-mysteries?ref=nav_search&result=project&term=millersburg" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">here's the link</a>!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-5460784675762753032023-09-29T07:00:00.005-04:002023-10-03T19:03:16.955-04:00It's Officially Live!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyvJCOqpo-814MJeAtPtROhPbGWacSQLnyP3a-Ocs49c5c8MBx0lRFE8x-lWVtqdzde7AS3Ry4FsVGWar-5zWZM36u5u-40cUGvjSZc0NVuh_S0AX0HnGGFra89kQj9_je018ltApFpEP-RoP6yw62cq_oGOm3w6yr85Pf7-jhaglef3pt7KmZTZr21Py-/s4804/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="4804" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyvJCOqpo-814MJeAtPtROhPbGWacSQLnyP3a-Ocs49c5c8MBx0lRFE8x-lWVtqdzde7AS3Ry4FsVGWar-5zWZM36u5u-40cUGvjSZc0NVuh_S0AX0HnGGFra89kQj9_je018ltApFpEP-RoP6yw62cq_oGOm3w6yr85Pf7-jhaglef3pt7KmZTZr21Py-/s320/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />I hit the publish button last night. <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/soccermoms/millersburg-magick-mysteries?ref=26d9ai" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">The Millersburg Magick Mysteries Kickstarter campaign is officially up and running!</a><p></p><p>I really hope everyone will check out the campaign. It was nice to delve back into a world that's a lot of fun. Plus, I've got the covers for the next three books, so I'll have some fun over next summer! </p><p>The campaign will run until 11:59 p.m. EDT on Tuesday, October 17th.<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-7278881357560148532023-09-28T05:00:00.001-04:002023-09-28T05:09:51.803-04:00Pre-Launch Page for Kickstarter Is Live<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvVGd2kqAiCkZpACOaCDnkHyjEa1MKO8mz1PFdDql1N6UFzXBSEFQm_ZkZM8sHize-s41JyFmCqZmJ3wTz68FipzrHmD5Zfl-29DNh4isXRJIu8TBZJWrNFzH05OsjBSVCAZwrmeJ1xxERQQ3I2WjySCy8edmF2CX_29r1XOajotRPsCDKp-k7jPycjY/s4804/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="4804" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDvVGd2kqAiCkZpACOaCDnkHyjEa1MKO8mz1PFdDql1N6UFzXBSEFQm_ZkZM8sHize-s41JyFmCqZmJ3wTz68FipzrHmD5Zfl-29DNh4isXRJIu8TBZJWrNFzH05OsjBSVCAZwrmeJ1xxERQQ3I2WjySCy8edmF2CX_29r1XOajotRPsCDKp-k7jPycjY/s320/MMM%20Banner%20Final.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />It's happening! My campaign was approved earlier than I thought it would. <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/soccermoms/millersburg-magick-mysteries" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">I now have an active pre-launch page!</a> Hopefully, my pink hair in the video isn't too shocking. LOL<p></p><p>Yes, I'm giggling gleefully! I can't wait!<br /></p>Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-32895326216943107082023-09-20T18:30:00.001-04:002023-09-20T18:33:27.897-04:00Death Goddess Walking - Chapter 6<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWji7gQNexbkQleEEISxJWK2g_iRMCKciSbOfDawVETlisiSw34DkRjIO1PhYe4TmCIIS8hTGtXH-R4W3fqapRB4QuhP0v-CsKIarwIarGmbnpAl1l0A-1J1o1NZF7vGYpqbKiOspTopWQAU1AIxRqjqiU6F737HZlSHZSRJRXwfhQBSWpCqRtHiYUPk0/s750/DeathGoddessWalking500X750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWji7gQNexbkQleEEISxJWK2g_iRMCKciSbOfDawVETlisiSw34DkRjIO1PhYe4TmCIIS8hTGtXH-R4W3fqapRB4QuhP0v-CsKIarwIarGmbnpAl1l0A-1J1o1NZF7vGYpqbKiOspTopWQAU1AIxRqjqiU6F737HZlSHZSRJRXwfhQBSWpCqRtHiYUPk0/s320/DeathGoddessWalking500X750.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Here's the unedited chapter 6 from the first book of my latest series The Books of Apep.<br />
<br />
-----------<br />
<br />
<i>The home was the center of Egyptian life. That’s not to say the ancients didn’t have their share of normal family problems.</i> – Introduction to Egyptology, George E. Herbert<br />
<br />
<br />
Clenching her fist to keep from decking her housemate, Billie brushed past Kyra. No doubt from the heat in her cheeks, her lily-white skin flamed in embarrassment, but the manners drilled into her by her grandmother dropped into place. “Would you like to come inside, Porter?” <br />
<br />
His masculine chuckle filled her ears. “Why thank you, Billie. I’d appreciate warming up before I head home.”<br />
<br />
“The kitchen’s this way, I’ll make us some coffee.” Ignoring Kyra’s astonished look, Billie marched past the stairs. The swish of denim said he was right behind her. She’d be polite, serve him some coffee, and send the gentleman on his way before she took her car back out to the cemetery to check on Marcus. Yeah, that was a good plan.<br />
<br />
Except she didn’t want to rush Porter out the door.<br />
<br />
Geez, Cyrus Johnson was right. She was letting her hormones make her decisions.<br />
<br />
Nettie looked up from the paper at their entrance, the comics section now spread on the table. “Did you find—” Brown eyes peered over the tops of her reading glasses as Billie snatched a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “I see you—”<br />
<br />
Billie caught the sharp, short shake of Porter’s head from the corner of her eye.<br />
<br />
“—you, um, didn’t find the dog.” Nettie grabbed her own mug and took a quick gulp of coffee.<br />
<br />
Now what the hell was that all about? In the past, she’d seen the professor agitated, paranoid, even on the edge of violence, especially when she was off her meds. But nervous?<br />
<br />
Never.<br />
<br />
And taking cues from a man, any man? Oh, hell no.<br />
<br />
Porter crossed the kitchen, handed extended. “Porter Gates.” <br />
<br />
Nettie regained her composure and clasped his proffered hand. “Netanya Soren. A pleasure to meet you.”<br />
<br />
Billie handed the mug of steaming coffee to Porter. His smile nearly sent her melting into the kitchen floorboards. He slid into the chair next to Nettie as if he’d done it a million times before, like he belonged there. A twinge of jealousy whispered through her.<br />
<br />
The twins choose that moment to troop through the kitchen door and claim the remaining chairs before she could sit in the one next to Porter. No doubt Kyra had run upstairs to wake Reyna and dish about Billie showing up at the front door with the bouncer.<br />
<br />
An evil smirk filled Kyra’s face while her sister disarmed the man with deceptive small talk. Billie leaned against the sink and sipped her coffee, part of her content to simply watch the play of the overhead light in his hair. The other part fretted over how to keep the goth quiet when the inevitable rude question was asked.<br />
<br />
“So, Porter, our Billie, she’s do-able—” Kyra’s query ended in a squeal of pain.<br />
<br />
Billie swallowed her own gasp of surprise. It wasn’t Reyna’s heel digging into Kyra’s instep. Nettie shot the girl an ugly look before easing the pressure.<br />
<br />
Porter stood. From his grin, Billie was sure he was very aware of the byplay happening under the kitchen table. “It’s been a pleasure, ladies, but I must be going.” That smile turned on her. “If you would be kind enough to escort me out, Billie?”<br />
<br />
Trying to ignore the other three sets of eyes boring into her skull, she nodded and set her mug on the counter. Leading the way to the front door, her body tingled, conscious of his presence no matter how her mind wanted to deny the attraction.<br />
<br />
He paused, concern replacing the humor in his eyes. “Are you okay?”<br />
<br />
Blinking in surprise, she said, “I’m fine. Why?”<br />
<br />
His gaze swept down her body before his eyes met hers again. “You’re still limping.”<br />
<br />
A shrug lifted her shoulders. Having someone to confide in was a nice little fairy tale. Just like Cinderella. She’d learned a long time ago it didn’t work that way in real life. “Nasty bruise. It’ll heal.”<br />
<br />
He hesitated. For an instant, it seemed like he’d try to kiss her, but then that wicked grin of his returned. “Take care of yourself, Billie. Call me if you decide on another night walk through the graveyard.”<br />
<br />
She stood at the door, watching him, until he crossed the street at the corner and disappeared from view. Then his words hit her.<br />
<br />
Still limping.<br />
<br />
Another night walk.<br />
<br />
He had seen her in the cemetery last night.<br />
<br />
##<br />
<br />
Hours later, Billie sat at a corner table on the second floor of a nearby fast food joint. The image of Porter Gates’ cocky grin still floated through her brain. She stared at her laptop screen. The words composing the motion for a case made no sense. Had he watched her battle the monsters? If so, why hadn’t he helped her and the children?
Unless he couldn’t see the ghosts.<br />
<br />
Except she’d found him at Marcus’s grave this morning.<br />
<br />
Her fingernails tapped on the formica tabletop as questions bounced around her skull. Or had he unleashed those creatures? Resting her chin on her fists and watching the occasional customer sweep in and out of the restaurant’s main doors didn’t bring her any answers.<br />
<br />
She had ignored Kyra’s jibes about the bouncer after he left and gathered her computer bag and files. A quick stop at the cemetery to check on Marcus left her reassured, at least in regard to the ghost boy. Even though she had trouble seeing him clearly, his right side showed no signs of the black nothingness that poisoned him last night. Both Sarah Jane and Tommy verified Marcus had regained his normal color though the boy was rather upset his ectoplasmic version of his turtleneck was still ripped. While she was in the cemetery, fresh flurries swirled through the air. A quick circuit around the salted graveyard road produced no sign of the black dog, though the children promised to keep watch for him.<br />
<br />
Billie had told Nettie she was heading for OSU’s law library, but at the last second, she drove to the hamburger joint a few blocks from the house instead. The nasty weather kept most of the undergrad students in their dorms, so the place was fairly quiet.<br />
<br />
From her seat on the balcony, she stared down into the main seating area. It gave her a perfect view of Nettie shoving open the glass door. Billie started to raise her hand in a wave when a dark figure silhouetted against the deepening twilight followed the professor into the restaurant. Nettie turned at Porter’s greeting.<br />
<br />
Billie’s stomach lurched at the quick, friendly hug the two shared, and pressed against the back wall, wanting desperately to melt through the vinyl. Their voices faded and the pair disappeared from view as they headed toward the serving counter. Why the dissembling in the kitchen this morning if they knew each other?<br />
<br />
Given the teasing Kyra had launched at her, Billie could understand why Nettie might want to keep a relationship under wraps, especially with a younger man. That comprehension didn’t stop the stab of disappointment in her gut.<br />
<br />
Nettie’s distinctive tone drifted up from underneath the balcony. Oh crap! they coming up the stairs?<br />
<br />
“Are you sure she doesn’t know?” The scrap of chair legs on tile meant the pair had grabbed a table right underneath Billie’s perch. Not good when her stomach threatened to heave the cheese fries and coffee she’d consumed.<br />
<br />
Porter’s deeper voice held a touch of concern. “No, she’s not conscious of her true nature. She was operating totally on instinct last night.”<br />
<br />
“But the dead boy who was poisoned?”<br />
<br />
“Healed but by instinct,” Porter repeated. “I’m more concerned about the sek. She killed one last night, but its compatriots now know she and I are here in the city. The others will hunt. For her. For the rest of us. For the children.”<br />
<br />
A shiver rippled up Billie’s spine, even as her gut cramped in fear. He had been in the cemetery last night! And he knew a lot more about those monsters than she did. She closed her laptop and shoved the file back in her tote before she eased closer to the ornamental metal railing protecting the edge of the balcony, praying the vinyl on the closer chair wouldn’t creak and alert them to her presence.<br />
<br />
“We need to tell her—” Nettie started.<br />
<br />
Porter must have made some gesture to stop the professor from finishing the thought. His voice dropped, and Billie strained to hear his words. “Neit, we have to be careful. She was worried about something going wrong before we came here, and I don’t believe it was her usual anal-retentive paranoia. None of you ladies remembered our mission.”<br />
<br />
What the hell did he call Nettie? And what exactly was a sek? Her fingers itched to open her laptop and use the restaurant’s wi-fi, but the clack of keys might alert the two.<br />
<br />
A snort came from Nettie. “I remember now.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” Humor laced Porter’s voice. “But you did it in the middle of a battlefield.” Liquid slurped. “You’re damn lucky you’re not locked in a psych ward.”<br />
<br />
Tapping sounds came from below. “Not taking the human medication forced on me has helped with my clarity.”<br />
<br />
Masculine laughter followed Nettie’s irritated words. “Good to hear you dropped the anti-anxiety meds. They were dulling your reaction time.”<br />
<br />
Billie swallowed a groan. Now she had confirmation of why Nettie had been acting so strangely lately. What the hell possessed this guy to go along with her disregard of doctor’s orders? Did he like his women crazy?<br />
<br />
Another disgusted snort from Nettie. “What are you suggesting we do?”<br />
<br />
“Stay as close to her as possible. Apep will send his minions after her since she’s the greatest single danger to his plans next to Set.” Another long pause. “By the way, what do you know about a ghost harassing her concerning his unborn child?”<br />
<br />
Mother of pearl! Billie dug into own nails into her palms to keep from slapping something, anything, in frustration. The bastard had seen Cyrus and didn’t say a freaking word about it. She sucked in a deep breath as her conscience reminded her she hadn’t told anyone about Cyrus either.<br />
<br />
The tapping below halted. “A client of hers died recently. His children are squabbling with the trophy wife over the estate. Billie said something about the widow popping any time.”<br />
<br />
Satisfaction filled Porter’s next words. “I think we have a winner in the prophesy sweepstakes, folks.”<br />
<br />
Enough crazy talk. Billie shoved back her chair, jumped to her feet, and charged down the stairs. The surprise on their faces at her appearance only pissed her off more. “If you’ve got something to say about me, then say it to my face.”<br />
<br />
Wariness replaced Nettie’s startled look. “Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop. You may not get the whole story.” Anger clipped her words.<br />
<br />
Fine. The professor could be mad all she wanted. “Get your coat. I’m taking you home.”<br />
<br />
Porter raised a placating hand. “Billie, wait—”<br />
<br />
She raised an index finger and shook it under his nose. “Shut up. Now. She’s got PTSD, and you know it. Telling her it’s okay to drop her drugs is fucking irresponsible. But going along with her fantasy world shit—”<br />
<br />
No words could express the disgust filling Billie’s gut. “Get out of here, and don’t come near me or Nettie again. Or I’ll drop a restraining order on your ass. Got it?”<br />
<br />
He opened his mouth, but he must have thought better of whatever he was about to say. His jaw snapped shut with an audible click of teeth. Slinging on his black leather jacket, he started for the door, but he stopped halfway to the exit and turned toward her. “If you see Cyrus Johnson again, let me know. I know you don’t like accepting help, but you’re going to need mine before this is over.” Unnatural calmness filled his words. He pivoted and strode out of the restaurant.<br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6243070745515923583.post-78639498144775839832023-09-13T15:30:00.005-04:002023-09-14T19:47:27.815-04:00Death Goddess Walking - Chapter 5<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxfXRKWHEO6c6UMOxoJb-MS9m_Fw01Wd5xdzb-XPE7Hb7hXWv7KpwKW-KAW5u1BbA81rNCDxazinORILkDY1FMNEKJiLMt-mT_NoCvbdb2ATgH5UWGDNo98X7xGoqpkfRNq7TpfPKNvm5EBR828BxsxsAAcqsuGdphhD8tUMQa9LbrSxAC98Sr0VH9oLX/s750/DeathGoddessWalking500X750.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxfXRKWHEO6c6UMOxoJb-MS9m_Fw01Wd5xdzb-XPE7Hb7hXWv7KpwKW-KAW5u1BbA81rNCDxazinORILkDY1FMNEKJiLMt-mT_NoCvbdb2ATgH5UWGDNo98X7xGoqpkfRNq7TpfPKNvm5EBR828BxsxsAAcqsuGdphhD8tUMQa9LbrSxAC98Sr0VH9oLX/s320/DeathGoddessWalking500X750.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Here's another unedited snippet from my upcoming series!<br />
<br />
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<br />
<i>Lord Anubis, sweep the demons that plague me from my path that I may attain my place among the dead.</i> – Partial inscription from tomb wall at KV60, Luxor, Egypt<br />
<br />
<br />
Wind swept the scarf from Billie’s head, whipping strands of hair in her eyes, nose, and mouth as she made her way toward the cemetery. She snatched the plaid wool before it flew into the street and tied it more securely around her neck. Residual flakes scattered in the freezing onslaught, and it took all her muscle control to keep her balance on the icy sidewalk. <br />
<br />
Canvassing the immediate block produced no black mutt. He must have headed back to his old haunt when Nettie let him out the front door. What the hell had the nutty professor been thinking? That she could talk to animals? Billie wanted to roll her eyes. She prayed she found her canine savior before Animal Control did.<br />
<br />
The adrenaline rush faded with her anger. By the time she reached the wide-open back gates of the cemetery, every fiber of her body ached with pain and cold. Now, how does someone find a dog she doesn’t really own?<br />
<br />
Billie peeled off her single glove and raised two fingers to her lips. Her usual blasting whistle raced away with the wind, leaving a faint echo behind.<br />
<br />
“If you’re trying to wake the dead, that’ll do it.”<br />
<br />
The sudden appearance of Cyrus Johnson’s voice nearly dropped her on her butt again. She caught her balance on the glazed blacktop and glared at the vague outline standing next to her. Even the guide’s brilliance appeared milky under the overcast sky.<br />
<br />
“Go away, Cyrus.” She scanned the area, searching for black fur among the gray stones and white ground.<br />
<br />
“My baby’s gonna have no means of support if you don’t do something about my case.” Even though she couldn’t clearly see his eyes, she would have sworn she could feel the heat of his wrathful stare.<br />
<br />
“You’re dead, Cyrus. It’s not your case. Have you seen the dog that was with me last night?” The snow-covered grass would give her better footing than the ice-slicked asphalt. The frozen crust crunched beneath her boots as she stalked further into the cemetery.<br />
<br />
A snort of disgust filled her ear. “Why did I even expect you would help me? You can’t even take care of your own pet.” Of course, Cyrus followed and harassed her.<br />
<br />
“He’s not mine, but he saved my life. I need to return him to his owner.” She left out the fear the two monsters that had attacked her and the children would find the dog alone and tear the poor thing to bits.<br />
<br />
As she cut across the lawn, a hint of movement drew her toward Marcus’s grave. She rounded a tall monument to find a man crouched next to the headstone, his bare right palm flat against the frozen ground where the snow had been brushed away. Her own hand automatically reached for the small of her back. Shit! She’d left her knife under her pillow in her panic over the missing dog.<br />
<br />
Worry over Marcus overrode her common sense. “What are you doing?” The words came out harsher than she intended.<br />
<br />
The man stood, leather shifting across broad shoulders, and turned. Porter. The bouncer, not the dog.<br />
<br />
She couldn’t stifle her gasp and took an involuntary step back.<br />
<br />
Hazel eyes lit up, and a slow smile spread across his features. “I could ask the same of you. Billie, isn’t it? Kyra’s friend?” When her tongue remained firmly glued to the roof of her mouth, he added, “Or would you prefer I call you Wilhelmina?”<br />
<br />
“No!” Her tongue couldn’t form the proper sounds after the initial rush of anger at someone using her hated full name. “I-I-I mean, Billie’s fine.”<br />
<br />
His gaze swept the length of her body. Heat followed the path of his eyes to the point she began to sweat despite the freezing temperatures. The odd sense of déjà vu didn’t help her discomfiture around this man.<br />
<br />
She swallowed hard, determined to regain some sense of control over her own reactions and the situation. If she couldn’t get rid of him, she would have come back and rouse Tommy or Sarah Jane and have them check on Marcus for her. “What are you doing here?”<br />
<br />
Something harder, dangerous even, replaced the glimmer of humor in his eyes. She didn’t feel threatened though, more like protected. Like she had last night when the black dog came to her rescue. His gaze flicked to her left before his attention returned to her. To her left. Where Cyrus and the guide floated. Damn, could he see or sense them?
“I heard something in the cemetery last night.” He shrugged. “Thought I’d check it out.”<br />
<br />
Fear prickled her spine. Had he witnessed her fight? “W-what did you hear?” <br />
<br />
His eyes narrowed. The examination he gave her felt nothing like his earlier semi-erotic perusal. In fact, it reminded her of her own behavior when she had a witness on the stand, her sixth sense ferreting out the truth.<br />
<br />
Instead of answering, he threw out his own question. “What are you doing in the middle of a cemetery on a freezing Saturday morning?”<br />
<br />
His question brought to mind her original mission. And it seemed a much safer topic of conversation. “I’m looking for my dog. My crazy landlady let him out the front door instead of into the back yard to do his business.”<br />
<br />
A dark eyebrow rose on Porter the man’s handsome face. “Really?”<br />
<br />
Heat flooded her cheeks despite the icy wind. “Okay, he’s not really mine. He’s a stray I found, but he’s smart and trained. Someone must be looking for him. I was going to put up flyers today.” A grimace tugged her lips. “Except my landlady let him out this morning, and he took off. I’ve got to find him before Animal Control takes him away. He doesn't have any collar or tags.”<br />
<br />
“Well, I haven’t seen your dog.” He drew out the last two words as if questioning her story. “But I did find this.” He held up her missing left glove.<br />
<br />
She reached for the bright red accessory, not intending to touch him again, but his fingers curled around hers anyway. Breath caught in her lungs. That weird sense of knowing, of familiarity, sent a rush of heat through her body.<br />
<br />
Cyrus Johnson’s raspy voice ruined any budding rapport with the sexy bouncer. “Jesus Christ, woman! Can’t you get your hormones under control long enough to help me?”
A cocky grin filled Porter’s face, but he couldn’t have possibly heard Cyrus. Could he?<br />
<br />
“If this dog is as smart as you say, I’m sure he can dodge the authorities. I wouldn’t worry about him. I’m sure he’ll show up. Maybe I should walk you home.”<br />
<br />
Panic ran through her. She just wasn’t sure whether it was worry over Porter the dog or anxiety about Porter the man. “Thanks, but—”<br />
<br />
His large hand grabbed her elbow, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to guide her in the direction of the back gate. “It’s too damn cold to be arguing about this.” More warmth seeped through her coat and sweater and sent another flurry of desire through her. As they walked, he mumbled something under his breath.<br />
<br />
As they crossed the graveyard, the transparent figure of Cyrus Johnson stepped in front of her. “Hey, what about me?”<br />
<br />
She gritted her teeth and accepted the shock of cold when she passed through him. Her determination didn’t stop the shiver that passed through her body.<br />
<br />
“Bitch!” But the insult didn’t hold much bite since Cyrus was too busy keeping his essence intact. The guide bleeped in protest.<br />
<br />
Billie swallowed her own smile. Most ghosts learned not to repeat that little trick. Something about her disrupted their cohesiveness. But Cyrus would be back. She was sure of that one fact.<br />
<br />
A warm, masculine chuckle tickled her ears. “Next time wear your long johns.”<br />
<br />
She didn’t correct Porter’s assumption about the cause of her shivers. Nor did she protest when his arm encircled her shoulders, his body heat, and his presence, far more comforting than she’d admit out loud.<br />
<br />
They were silent for the walk back to Nettie’s house. As much as Billie wanted to blame the lack of conversation on the noise of the occasional city truck spreading salt on the ice, she had no frickin’ clue on how to talk to this guy. Okay, most guys.<br />
<br />
She chewed on her tongue trying to find a decent topic to start. “So, how’s the funeral business” didn’t sound like a polite opening line, but nothing else sounded right either. Besides, why would he possibly be interested in anything she had to say? Before she could come up with a reasonable topic that didn’t involve the weather, they were standing on Nettie’s front porch.<br />
<br />
Porter slid his arm from her shoulders and held out his hand her key. Before she could decide whether to be pissed at his chauvinism or touched by his manners, the door flew open.<br />
<br />
Kyra stood in the frame, a smirk on her face.” I thought you said you were coming home last night.”<br />Suzan Hardenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04600258874634909988noreply@blogger.com0