Wednesday, December 21, 2016

THE STORY BEHIND THE SONG, "SILVER BELLS"

It's December--and the time when radio stations are belting out Christmas songs in an attempt to get people in the holiday and spending spirit. There are many wonderful old-fashioned songs that have survived the ages and are performed by various artists in a multitude of versions each year. My favorite of all the carols is Silver Bells. It regularly ranks in the top Christmas songs heard on the airwaves
The words, the melody, and the Christmas images it invokes are traditional and unforgettable. This Christmas classic was written by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans for the 1951 Bob Hope movie The Lemon Drop Kid. Livingston provided the melody, Evans the words. It was sung by Bob Hope and Marilyn Maxwell; and the first recorded version was sung by Bing Crosby and Carol Richards with John Scott Trotter and his orchestra and was released by Decca Records. 
According the American Songwriter Magazine in its July/August issue, Livingston originally had the title of Tinkle Bell, referring to the tinkly bells you hear at Christmas from the Santa Clauses and the Salvation Army people. But once he took it home and played it for his wife, she informed him that the word had a bathroom connotation.
Livingston then went back to Ray Evans and told him they would have to throw the song out. However, as they continued to work on the Christmas song needed for The Lemon Drop Kid, they found themselves taking many of the lines and part of the melody from their "Tinkle Bell" song. In the end, they used the original song, except for substituting the word silver for tinkle, and the song became Silver Bells
The song, now timeless, has been sung by famous artists like Elvis Presley, Andy Williams, Frank Sinatra, Karen Carpenter, Michael Buble, and The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, to name a few. 
…Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city
Ring-a-ling, hear them sing
Soon it will be Christmas day!

What is your favorite Christmas carol? Is it a classic or a newly released one?
But no matter which one it might be, I want to wish you a very Merry Christmas!

Monday, December 19, 2016

IMMORTAL WINTER by N.R. Larry and Margo Bond Collins

A princess locked away in an ice tower. 
A handsome kidnapper who insists her savior-queen is a liar. 
And a chance to break the curse that binds them all.


Immortal Winter Cover.JPG

Jayla Storm woke up next to a dead body, with no memory of how it got there. Then Kip Stanton blew up her ice tower—the only home she’s ever known—and kidnapped her, insisting it was for her own good. 

 ow she's stuck with a group of rebels hell-bent on usurping the queen who saved Jayla's life. As her memories resurface, she's afraid to trust anyone, even while her feelings for Kip grow stronger. 

But wherever Jayla goes, the monstrous ravagers follow. If she's going to survive, and perhaps save Kip and the others, she'll have to learn to trust someone—maybe especially herself.


Immortal Wintera stand-alone dystopian paranormal romance  
by New York Times bestselling authors N.R. Larry and Margo Bond Collins


02055-amazon2b252812529


Excerpt:

I woke in my ice tower, covered in a coating of sweat, lying next to a dead body.
With a gasp, I scrambled back against the headboard of my own bed. Other than the motionless figure beside me, nothing around me had changed, though it was tinted yellow from the flickering lanterns.

Arina’s dead body?

I’d never seen a corpse. Not a real one. I eyed the spike sticking out of her forehead and the odd snarl twisting her open mouth. My head swam and I swallowed convulsively.

I knew I needed to act, but all I could manage to do was let Arina continue to bleed out—onto the sheets and onto me. I should have been screaming. I should have been throwing myself off the bed and toward the window. But I didn’t, anchored in place by fire and sweat and blood.

I tried to connect the scene in front of me to some memory, something that swam barely out of reach. I stretched after it, catching a fragment: yesterday was Arina's day. The day I wouldn't be alone.

A pain day.

I looked forward to those. That much I knew.

Forcing myself to sit up, I scooted away from her still form, my jaw clenched with the memory of pain. I would have laughed at what lingered but there was a body to attend to. Stumbling out of bed, I stepped out of my clothes and limped toward my ivory dresser. On the way, my feet grazed against something rough. Some imperfection in the ice. Something that wasn’t there before.

I backed up and stared down at the message scratched into the ice, blood swiped across it to highlight the letters, like ink rubbed on a seal impression to darken the image.

She found me. She knows. Went to warn them. Don’t take the infusions. Watch out for Kip.

My body began to tremble, even before my mind caught up.

Yesterday.

***


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Wednesday, December 14, 2016

FORBIDDEN COLOURS by Nicole Fitton


                                    Forbidden Colours by Nicole Fitton


Forbidden Colours was the evolution of a question that had been rattling around in my brain. You know, those annoying questions that wake you at 4am and won’t let you rest until you’ve written something. Well, that’s how it was for me. I had read a newspaper article about the complexity of the human brain and well, it all started from there. Forbidden Colours is a gripping love story which contains elements of psychological suspense. It contains enough adrenaline fuelled drama to power the national grid! Once I had the protagonist Midori Yates firmly fixed in my mind's eye she took charge and dictated the direction of travel. I have a passion for science and being able to incorporate that into a book is very exciting. The story centres around a new drug being brought to market that does not quite do what it is supposed to…. I shall leave it at that. As I said earlier I started Forbidden Colours with a question and everything flowed from there. So, I know you want to know, what was the question? It’s a question I often ask myself but seldom has it led me in such an unusual direction…... ‘ What if?’ 

Blurb:
What if your memories were not your memories? What if the drug hailed as a cure became a curse and ultimately your destruction?
Midori Yates works for pharmaceutical giant KLD. The launch of new drug Centoria has revolutionised the treatment of amnesia, with outstanding results. Trials exploring its use in the treatment of Alzheimer’s are on the horizon. But is it really as good as the data suggests?
Neurologist Dr. Nick Campbell has seen amazing results with his patients and is ready to believe in Centoria’s transformational abilities…that is until his patients start displaying strange and worrying symptoms with drastic results. Determined to uncover the truth, Midori and Nick find a conspiracy that is to have devastating consequences for both of them. A dark world threatens to engulf them. Can they survive?


Snippet:
Katzuko Yates eyed her daughter thoughtfully. A sense of apprehension gripped her. Those years in Japan were long ago; she wondered if she could be clear with her explanation. Even though buried, her memories continued to breathe under the mountain of life she'd lived. Dare she even speak of them? Could she speak of them? Their place of residence had become an unmarked grave in her history. Her family had a right to know, after everything that had happened. His world was dark and full of shadows; where would she begin? For over 25 years she had told no one. Now she was being drawn back into his world. It was a time she wanted to forget. The tie that had been bound to her so tightly was about to be broken.

Author Bio:
Nicole Fitton is an author and freelance writer who has lived in such glamorous locations as London, New York and Croydon! She currently reside in Devon, UK with her family. Forbidden Colours is her second novel. Her career has spanned over 3 decades working in PR and marketing within the music industry. She currently works within healthcare in the UK.
Alongside her novels Nicole has a passion for writing short stories.This year has seen her short ‘Soaring’ featured in an anthology by the Black Pear Press. Her stories always have a happy ending, but, the way in which they get there will keep you guessing right up until the last page! She admits she gets bored easily and can often be found enjoying new adventures!

Links:

Thursday, December 8, 2016

KERI'S CHRISTMAS WISH ~ by Pamela S Thibodeaux

A big welcome to Author Pamela S. Thibodeaux 
who will give us insight into how she creates fiction.

I am 100% panster so when I sat at the computer with one scene in mind, Keri scrolling through her newsfeed and grumbling “bah humbug” over the ‘Christmas in July’ propaganda, I had absolutely NO idea where the story was going or what would happen. I was introduced to Energy Medicine a couple of years ago and find the whole concept of healing the body – or actually the body healing itself by correcting energy imbalance–fascinating. Along with EM, I’ve discovered the power of positive thoughts and prayers (see: You can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay). Add to that, my belief in the afterlife and the books & movies affirming those beliefs, and well, this story practically wrote itself. What is so amazing and encouraging for me is that Keri’s Christmas Wish is the first romantic story I’ve written in its entirety since my husband passed away in 2009. Oh, I’ve had things published that were already in the works, but other than a couple NF pieces, it is the only thing written from start to finish. Hopefully this means I’m in a much better place emotionally and other books/novellas/stories are sure to follow.
 
 
Blurb:  
For as long as she can remember, Keri Jackson has despised the hype and commercialism around Christmas so much she seldom enjoys the holiday. Will she get her wish and be free of the angst to truly enjoy Christmas this year?
 
A devout Christian at heart, Jeremy Hinton, a Psychotherapist, Life Coach, Spiritual Mentor and Energy Medicine Practitioner has studied all of the world’s religions and homeopathic healing modalities. But when a rare bacterial infection threatens the life of the woman he loves, will all of his faith and training be for naught?
 
Find out in Keri’s Christmas Wish
 
Snippet: 
She awoke in another dimension. Keri had no idea if she was in Heaven, but neither did she fear Hell. Her surroundings were reminiscent of a dense forest at dusk. Shadows danced against a sunset where brilliant colors bled from the sky. A light shone in the distance but as she moved toward it, Keri felt as though she plowed through molasses. Unease pricked her skin. The sound of water drew her deeper into the woods until she stood at the base of a vast waterfall and rapids so swift she dared not attempt to cross the river.
 
The light grew stronger, brighter. Beckoning.
 
I need to get to the light.

Author Bio: 
Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”
 
Links:
Website address: http://www.pamelathibodeaux.com     
Twitter: http://twitter.com/psthib @psthib
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1jUVcdU  
 

Saturday, December 3, 2016

THE CHRISTMAS WREATH - A Circle of Life

During the Christmas season, I enjoy looking at the many different wreaths hanging on the doors of homes. They are colorful, artistic and varied, and are often constructed with evergreens adorned with pine cones, ribbons, bells, berries, and bows. But where did the tradition of hanging a wreath on a door for Christmas originate? Although there are many theories, it’s believed the wreath came with the Irish when they immigrated to the United States.

The wreath itself can be traced back to ancient Rome when people used decorative wreaths as a sign of victory and celebration. The custom of hanging a Christmas wreath on the front door of the home probably came from this practice. They are also used in ceremonial events in many cultures around the world.

In English-speaking countries, wreaths are now used typically as household ornaments, mainly as an Advent and Christmas decoration. Wreaths have much history and symbolism associated with them. They are usually made from evergreens which symbolize the strength of life overcoming the forces of winter, since evergreens last even throughout the harshest elements. Bay laurel is also be used, and these wreaths are known as laurel wreaths.

The shape of a circle has no beginning and no ending. It is thought that this may represent the eternal nature of a god's love, or the circle of life.

Do you hang a wreath on your door? If not, what do you do to decorate for the holiday season?
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Thursday, November 17, 2016

THANKFUL THOUGHTS FOR THANKSGIVING

Talking Turkey...

                          Thankful Thoughts for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. It’s a special day when we don’t have to go into a meltdown mode chasing down the perfect gifts for everyone on our Christmas list. The real gift is simply being able to gather family and friends together to eat, talk, share stories, and enjoy all those tempting dishes—like to-die-for corn bread stuffing, Aunt Jane’s pecan and pumpkin pies with mounds of whipped cream, and the ever-famous turkey baked to a golden brown in the oven or a deep fryer. It’s also a time when I think about why I’m thankful as a writer. Here are my top five:

  • I’m thankful to be able to be born in a country where I am able to create and write freely without fears of censorship or retribution. I’m thankful for all our service people—the military, rescue squads, firemen, police and many, many more whose occupations are to protect our freedoms and who are dedicated to keeping us safe. We are, indeed, land of the free because of the brave.

  • I’m thankful for all the fans who purchase our novels and those who make each day just a bit brighter by dropping an email or note in praise of our work. It gives me and other authors a reason to push forward and pursue our dreams.

  • I’m thankful for my spouse, my children, neighbors, friends, family, fellow writers, beta readers, and reviewers who act as sounding boards and who understand the writer’s craziness and the driving need to escape to a favorite spot and put ideas on a blank white screen.

  • I'm thankful for the editors, publishers, artists, and marketing, production and support personnel who take our lumpy clay-like creation of words and help us sculpt those words into a smooth, finished work of art called a novel.

  • I am thankful for all the sights, sounds, smells and tastes around us—like bright sunny days, scarlet sunsets, serene snowfalls, gentle rain, the smell of pine-tinged air, the warble of a song sparrow, the chirping of a cricket, the taste of summer’s first strawberries—and all the wondrous gifts our Heavenly Creator gives us each day to help us to be inspired.  

                      Happy Thanksgiving from my home to yours!     
                     
 EXCERPT: 
                                Key to Love

 The first thought crossing Lucas’s mind was that a blue tornado had swooped down without warning.
Elise Springer barreled through the office door, crossed the distance between them and slammed her fist on the metal desk so hard two pencils did simultaneous jumping jacks before hitting the concrete at her feet.
“You liar!” she shouted. Vicious claws, still splendidly colored a brilliant red, reached out, clutching the front of his shirt and jerking him by the throat.
“Having a bad morning?” Lucas asked quietly, thankful he never made it a habit to fasten the top button. “Maybe I should make a pot of coffee?”
“You set me up, you detestable jerk!” Her hand still held fast even when his came up to cover it. “You never told me about the seventy-five thousand dollars Mike gave you.”
He pried her fingers loose, and she stepped back, slicing the air with the edge of her palm. “I trusted you, you lowly worm. I went in there on your behalf!” Both hands flew to her temples, massaging her forehead. She stomped to the window and back again twice. “God, what a fool I am.”
“It’s not what it appears, Liz.” Lucas sat down, leaned back in a chair beside the desk, and hoped Fritz had not lied and this was just one of her twenty-four hour bouts of raving insanity. “Maybe you ought to sit down, and I’ll explain.”
“You can start spouting an explanation right now, pal, and I don’t need to sit to hear your gibberish!”
If her eyes could throw darts, he’d be dead man for sure, Lucas decided. He mustered some courage. “If I had told you Mike gave me money from his personal funds to invest for him, you would have gone into the meeting with Pedmo and tried to second guess her, just to defend me. I couldn’t take the chance. You got the kid, right?”

 
BUY LINKS:
The Wild Rose Press –  www.thewildrosepress.com 



Tuesday, November 1, 2016

LEAVES OF GRASS ~ "I Celebrate Myself, Line 238"


"The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,
Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation:
The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer,
I find its purpose and place up there toward the November sky."
           ~~ Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1855, I Celebrate Myself, Line 238

November is the time to snuggle down and enjoy the many smells of the season from the cinnamon and sugar in an apple pie baking in the oven to luscious, rich scent of a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Squash of all varieties are picked and becomes a staple fall accompaniment to a pork or beef roast. Root vegetables--carrots, turnips, beets, and potatoes--are stored for winter use as well. These are our comfort foods. And they remind us as the temperatures fall that winter is around the corner.