THURSDAY THREADS

Image It's that time again. It's Thursday, which is almost Friday, and the day I give you a peek at another of the Soul Mate Publishing authors. Just as you were starting to look for a good read this weekend. Today, I am featuring Brenda Stinnett.

The King’s Vampire (first in an Abyss series)

by Brenda Stinnett

Historical Paranormal set in London, England, after the Restoration of Charles II.

Heat Scale : Sizzling

Darius Einhard, demon slayer, will stop at nothing to help Elizabeth Curran, immortal vampire, break the bonds of vampirism, even while helping her protect Charles Stuart II, who’s in danger of being entrapped into becoming an immortal vampire and leading his people into the abyss of hell by the psychic vampire demons. 

 Excerpt:

The ruins of St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, England, November, 1675

First to reach the top of the ladder, Elizabeth said, “I see a dim light outside the archways of the church. Follow me.”

They’d almost reached the entrance when a hooded figure came rapidly gliding toward them. In silence, the shadowy figure stepped in front of them, blocking the exit while tossing back its hood. Elizabeth recognized Julian, his horrible eyes blazing blood-red, and his mummified face transformed into a skull whose hinged jaws tantalizingly opened and closed, while his wings beat back and forth.

Fear-frozen, Elizabeth watched the skull increase in size, the jaws continuing to rise and fall. The creature grew until it filled the archway.

With a shout, Darius shoved his three companions away from him and toward the archway. “Run! John, take the women to safety.”

John grabbed both women by the arm and started running with them, dodging the skull and slipping beneath Julian’s enormous wings. Elizabeth pulled back and turned around in time to see the huge jaws closing over Darius. She screamed, but John yanked her back and dragged her and Amelia out of the church forcibly, before she could protest further. He gave a shrill whistle. Darius’s coach appeared in front of the ruins. John shoved the women into the coach, and shouted to the driver, “To the Boar’s Head Inn. Hurry up, my good man.”

In the coach, Elizabeth glared at him with such ferocity that he drew away from her in surprise. “How dare you, John!”

His eyes widened. “What’s wrong? Darius told me to get you and Amelia to safety, and that’s what I’ve done.”

His wife touched his shoulder and gave a shake of her head.

Elizabeth sat up on her knees, pressing her face to the back window of the carriage. Even with her superior vision, she saw neither Darius, nor the huge skull from her vantage point.

“We’ve abandoned him to those horrible demons. We should have stayed and fought.”

When she let out an enormous sob, Amelia gently pulled her back onto the seat. “John was doing what Darius asked him to do. Darius is a great warrior and he can take care of himself.”

Elizabeth hardly noticed Amelia stroking her arm in a comforting manner. She felt a pain in the pit of her stomach grow until it reached up and clutched her heart. How could she live with herself if anything happened to him?

Links

Amazon:      http://amzn.to/12HHQ7e

Facebook:   https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBrendaStinnett

Web Page:  http://brendastinnett.com

Twitter:       https://twitter.com/brendastinnett

Confessions of an Evil Mother

 

 

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Dear Estrogen, Goddess of all Tween Girls,

It has, clearly, been too long since my last confession. It is my brave and stoic 12 year old that has had to bear the consequences of my negligence.  In a deliberate act of maternal malice, I have committed the following deeply scarring and grievous injuries this morning (and it's not even 9 am yet)

  • I failed at 10:15 last night to produce the topic for a science fair, when I should have spent the last three weeks devoting my every waking moment to selecting a project that, I should have remembered, was due this morning. There is no excuse. What else could I have been doing to commit this oversight?
  • I compounded above error by making several grossly obtuse and idiotic suggestions this morning on the drive to school.
  • I had the temerity to mention that practising the saxophone was a good way to ensure improvement. What was I thinking? 
  • I committed the heinous malapropism of suggesting that sleeves might be appropriate in 35ºF weather.
  • I unjustly requested that my car door not be slammed in a manner that made the entire car shake.
  • And worst of all, in a savage act of sabotage, I did not identify that my older child was clearly faking her symptoms of illness and allowed her to remain at home, while I forced my youngest into the harsh, clearly perilous schooling system.

I am a worm.

A Poem by Olivia Hegger (aged 13)

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The Beauty That Does Not Rest

 

Flames may lick

at unrested souls,

tempting them to burn.

And mist can cover

even the highest mountains.

The bite of winter

gnaws away 

at proud trees

every year.

The painstaking crawl of time

leaves destruction in its wake

and wrinkles in a young face.

 

Someday this pen will stop,

and its hand will be dust

beneath the soil.

But even though 

the pain is powerful,

my flesh is made 

of sterner stuff.

And these eyes still see 

the stars

piercing through

the nights ink-black cape.

 

And this mouth

will tell stories

until there are no more ears

ready to listen.

And these fingers

will touch silk yet

despite the feel of broken glass

 

And until the day

that this body 

draws its last breath

I will see

the hope that remains,

like a candle in

the dark.

And I will see the beauty

that does not rest.

Smiley Face Wars

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One the problems - and we've all heard enough on this subject - about communicating electronically is that intention sometimes gets muddled in the delivery. A good rule in our house is that if you can't look someone in the eye and say it, you have no business texting, emailing or posting that statement.

Have you ever noticed how if someone wants to ream you out electronically, they have their say and then attach a smiley face? As if that renders the entire tirade palatable. It kind of reminds me of when my, then, five year-old went through this phase of saying exactly what came to mind and tacking "no offence" onto the end. Example: "Nana (to my mother) your hair looks dreadful today." - pause - "No offence."

So, by that rule, I could say the following:

I really dislike you 😃😃😃 You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny 😜😜😜😜 and, by the way, your ass really does look fat in those pants  😇 😇 😇 😇.

Good to know!