Thursday, May 15, 2008

Another New Beginning, A Serial Story And a Guest Author

A Serial Story
I blog sporadically. You've probably noticed.I am always at a loss of what to blog about. So I end up blogging about Invisible Space Alien Vampires (see Wednesday, May 14 on GoddessesofStorytelling.blogspot.com)I decided to start a Serial. Whenever I blog I will write the next installment. This serial will be written off the cuff, so I have no idea where it will go. You will find out as I do. I will let the Characters write the story.Now, since I wrote about cats yesterday, I decided to develop a story about a moon in the thirteen planet system called Dyad. If you have read Prophecy of Vithan and/or Stone of Cruento you know that there is a Twin Planet System in which there is two planets Dkr and Sonij encircled with thirteen moons. Each moon has its own ecosystem, its own type of inhabitant based on different animals and mythic creatures.

Dyad is a moon based on the lion. The Spirit is named Leana. She is a lion-headed woman holding an onyx staff. The heroine's name is Zna Menita. The hero's name is Lovac.That is all I am going to tell you tonight. Stop by for the next installment tomorrow.

If you haven't read Prophecy of Vithan or Stone of Cruento you can go here to purchase your copy. Simply click on the cover picture of the book you want to purchase.


Today’s Guest Author is Anita Birt.
Anita Birt writer, avid reader, knitter lives on Vancouver Island with her husband, three African violets, a Christmas cactus that never blooms at Christmas and a demanding computer that sulks when neglected.

For Anita, writing romance novels is like having a love affair with words. Characters emerge. Plots develop. Crises erupt. Her historical stories are set in England, Scotland and Wales, countries she knows well.


Isabelle’s Diary available at Cerridwen Press
Blurb for Isabelle's Diary

On a sunny June morning in Llandrindod Wells, Sally Carter stops for coffee at the Celtic Café. She notices a beautiful young woman dressed in somber Victorian black sitting at a window table weeping over the pages of a diary. When the girl disappears without a trace and the waitress insists the table had been vacant all morning, Sally is compelled to discover the girl’s identity.

Unraveling the mystery leads Sally on a wild goose chase with the assistance of Dr. Dan Conway, a handsome Welsh history professor. But it’s not until she returns home to Toronto that the final pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

Even then the question lingers. Why was Sally the only person to see the girl?

Excerpt from ISABELLE'S DIARY, a contemporary romance by Anita Birt

Sally was brushing her teeth when the phone rang. Spitting out foaming toothpaste, she rinsed her mouth and dashed to answer it.
“Dan Conway, Ms Carter. Are you free this afternoon?"
“Sure, any time you are.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Where shall I meet you?”
“In the lobby.” Before leaving the bedroom she scanned her reflection in the bathroom mirror and hoped the dear old professor wouldn’t be shocked at her short shorts and clingy T-shirt. After sending her hiking clothes to the hotel laundry, her wardrobe choices were limited. She had one summer dress, too pretty to waste on detective work.
She freshened her lipstick, picked up her handbag with her notes, hurried downstairs and dropped into a chair facing the entrance. He arrived within five minutes looking very professorish. About five eight, slightly stooped, gray hair, thick glasses perched on the end of his nose. Sally hurried over to greet him.
“Dr. Conway, thank you for coming.”
The man backed away. A worried frown creased his brow. “Oh dear me, you’ve made a mistake. I’m looking for my wife. She’s supposed to meet me here.”
“Ms Carter?”
Sally recognized the voice and whirled around. Momentarily speechless, she stared at Dr. Conway. A solid six foot and then some with broad shoulders, a strong, well-muscled neck and dark brown curly hair. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way, more like a street fighter than a history prof. The sleeves of his faded blue denim shirt were rolled up to his elbows. He had a sports watch on his left wrist.
Sally pulled herself together, smiled and held out her hand. “Dr. Conway, I presume? I’ve frightened that elderly gentleman. I mistook him for you.”
“Please drop the doctor, I’m Dan.”
Humor lurked in his green eyes. He held her hand for a few seconds and the earth moved under Sally’s feet. Unreal.
She withdrew her hand and dropped her gaze to the safety of his denim shirt. His touch had triggered an aftershock, probably from surprise when she’d expected a musty old professor.
“I’m Sally. I hope I haven’t dragged you here on a wild goose chase.”
“Not at all, your story interests me.”
His matter-of-fact comment reassured her. “I’ve made some notes,” she said. “Let’s sit in the garden behind the hotel. It’s pretty back there.”
In her sexually deprived condition Dan was too overpowering male for her to cope with but he’d changed his plans to accommodate her. She could hardly fall ill, plead a headache and retreat to her room. That would be cowardly, but two years as a single woman had made her wary of men’s intentions. Dan Conway wasn’t on trial. Not yet. Depended on whether he kept his hands to himself while they solved the mystery of the girl in the café.
All the same she wished she hadn’t sent her loose cotton shirts and jeans to the hotel laundry. Her navy shorts were too short and her white T-shirt hugged her breasts leaving nothing to the imagination. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
She dug into her shoulder bag for the notes as she walked ahead of him through the lobby and on to the patio.
Happily ambushed by this attractive woman, Dan admired her sensational tanned legs. By the time they reached the garden and sat at a glass topped wicker table, he hoped they’d spend days together searching for the mysterious girl.
Maybe a night or two?
He dismissed that thought as unworthy; interesting but unworthy. For the few seconds he’d held her hand and gazed into her eyes a spark had crackled between them. Meaning what?
Male desiring female? Female desiring male?
Forget it. She’d quickly looked away and almost snatched her hand from his but he couldn’t be shot for thinking.
Like a student arranging an essay in front of a critical professor, she smoothed out sheets of hotel paper on the table.
“I hope my notes are coherent. I still can’t make sense of what happened yesterday. It’s still not clear to me whether I was dreaming in the café or really saw the girl.”
Dan picked up the papers and began reading as a group of noisy hotel guests strolled out on the patio and seemed to be settling in for an afternoon of drinking.
He folded the notes and gave them to Sally. “Let’s go across to the park. It’ll be quiet there and cool under the trees. We can go to the café later for a coffee.”
Out on the street he grasped her elbow and hustled her safely across the road to the park. The feel of her cool skin against his bare arm distracted him into thinking more unworthy thoughts.

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