Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Sumer Is Icumen In! Though I'm tempted to burst into song, I'll spare my audience hearing me sing. But I still intend to talk to three amazing authors. Two are new and one's a returning guest—and we're so pleased to have them with us. TODAY, May 31—Make Note of the Special Day—we welcome these lovely ladies. Same time - 4:00 PM EDT on Blog Talk Radio
First, returning guest, Maya Tyler author of Vampire's Tale and Dream Hunter. Welcome back, Maya!
New to the show, we welcome Cindy Tomamichel author of Druid's Portal: The First Journey. Hello, Cindy!
Also new to the show, welcome JM Robison author of The War Queen. Hello, JM!
at May 31, 2017
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
Sierra McLaughlin meets David Anders on the plane from Hattiesburg, Mississippi (where she's from) to Daytona Beach, Florida (where he's from). She discovers he's a surfer and she's a photography student who took photos of surfers in Daytona during spring break. She agrees to show him her pictures, which she has in a portfolio.
David took the pictures as she took back the coffee. He opened the book and grinned. "Great shot of the Inlet," he commented happily.
"I like to tell a story with the pictures. I took a few landscape shots when I got there."
He flipped through three more. The next picture was of four surfers in silhouette, the sun and water in front of them. One was bending over putting on his wet suit. His tight ass was nearly center of the frame. The guy to his right was profile, looking down at him. The other two were checking the waves, eyes shielded against the glare. Their boards were planted upright in the sand.
David chuckled, pointing to the ass shot. "Very nice composition. What's this part of the story?" He mimicked a female voice. "I got to the beach and saw this great ass and had to take a picture?"
Sierra grabbed for her book, but he held it away from her, out into the aisle.
"He has a bathing suit on!"
"Yeah, but still! I didn't think Stu had that good an ass. Mine's better."
"You know him?"
"Yeah. I know all of them." He pointed to each in turn from left to right. "Tom, Stu's ass, Brent and yours truly."
Sierra squinted at the picture. The guy shading his eyes and turned slightly to his right, watching the waves was very familiar.
"Oh, my God! It is you! How weird is that?"
"Not very when you figure I spend every available minute on my board."
"But that we should meet on a plane, when we've been at the same school for several years. It's weird."
"When you put it in that perspective, yeah."
Suddenly excited to have met one of her subjects, Sierra leaned over the album eagerly.
"Any more pictures of you in there?"
"Let's see." He laughingly brushed her hand away as the flight attendant passed by.
"You'll have to put your trays up now."
"No problem," David grinned. He put the album in his lap and put up his tray.
The pictures started to fall off his lap. Sierra, not really thinking, made a grab for the album and missed. The flight attendant looked down at them and gave her a knowing smile. With a twinkle in her eyes, she walked to the front of the plane. Red faced and mortified, Sierra watched the photo album fall to the floor. Unmoving, she stared at it until David picked it up and dusted it off.
"No harm done," he smiled, white teeth flashing in his tanned face.
"I'm so sorry," Sierra muttered as the plane began to move.
"Grabbing at the book. I missed," she whispered as she blushed a deep red.
"Not everything," he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought it was some strange Mississippi greeting. Hi," he held out his hand to her again. "I'm David and these are my balls. Would you like to sample a handful?"
Sierra laughed suddenly, realizing he wasn't making fun, just making light of a very embarrassing situation. Putting on her best Southern Belle accent, she replied with a flutter of her eyelashes.
"Why, Mr. Anders, I believe you're a bit presumptuous. I never grab a man's private parts on the first date."
"Too bad," he sighed. "I rather liked it. You can grab my photo anytime you want."
Sierra giggled and nudged him playfully in the ribs.
"You're awful. No wonder they're sending you home."
"I can't be expected to behave," he agreed. "It's true. Cannot play well with others is on all my report cards."
"Mine all say, cannot be trusted with photo albums," she added. Gasping, she grabbed his hand as the plane left the ground. "I hate flying," she whispered and clutched his fingers more tightly.
"It's okay. I'm here. We'll do this together."
"Thanks," she murmured and closed her eyes as the plane climbed.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, May 25, 2017
I am a big fan of first meetings as they often set the tone for the relationship, and tell us a lot about how the couple will interact with one another later in the story. In the case of Malcolm Brodie and Cassandra Tillerman, the first meeting does not go well. Fortunately, they are able to overcome their differences, but based on their first meeting, it doesn't seem very likely.
Brodie isn't having a very good day. He's almost late for work, waiting for the elevator, which is being slow. He gets on the crowded elevator and a pretty redhead parks herself right in front of the panel. Unfortunately, she's on the phone and isn't paying attention to the floors other people need. Since she's blocking it, someone has to do something. Brodie takes her phone, hanging it up, earning himself a tongue lashing. Eventually, he manages to escape, has a brief and happy meeting with clients, only to have a very nasty surprise when waiting by the elevator once again.
Bell dinged, door opened and out walked the Phone Princess, glowering the moment she saw me. Surprise replaced the anger as she saw Janine Tillerman apparently delighted with my surly, brutish company.
"Mother? What are you doing?" She turned abruptly in my direction, snarling. "You bastard! Take your hands off my mother this instant!"
I jumped back like I'd been shot. A yelp escaped me that reverberated in the marble lined hallway and echoed around the entire tenth floor. People peeped out of offices and cubicles all around us, leaning forward to get a better view. We gave them a hell of a show. Phone Princess, or as she was more commonly known, Cassandra Tillerman stood three feet five inches away from me, arms akimbo.
If you don't know what akimbo means, imagine your fourth grade teacher chewing you out for throwing spit wads when her back was turned. Remember how her hands were planted on her hips and she leaned forward in a threatening manner? That's akimbo.
"What," she repeated loudly, "are you doing?" This was directed at me.
I let go of Janine Tillerman so fast, my hands blurred. Horrified, her mother stood with her mouth open, eying her daughter balefully.
"Cassandra, what on earth?"
Cassandra advanced like a she-wolf coming in for the kill. Her dark brown eyes flashed with cold flames. Short, curly auburn hair burned with hell's fire and steam rose from her nose, billowing around her head. Okay, that one was my imagination, but you get the idea. She'd reached a level of pissed off I've never seen before.
In short, I was terrified. There was no way I could show fear, or she'd have me. Instead, I adopted the same bored expression I did when Mrs. Flaherty chewed me out for the spit ball fiasco. Pretending indifference, I listened politely, waiting for her to stop for air. She went an incredibly long time before drawing a breath.
I admired her stamina and the way her chest rose and fell as she bellowed at me for a good five minutes. I've seen some attractive women in my time, but Cassandra Tillerman was as exquisite a specimen as I'd seen in awhile. It didn't matter that she hated my guts, nor did it especially matter that she was yelling less than a foot from my face. She smelled amazing and had a dimple in her left cheek that showed deeply when she pursed her lips. Her eyes were a shade of brown that was so dark it was like looking in a well.
I fell in that well, weighted down with the fact that she absolutely, positively, unequivocally detested and abhorred me. I'm certain of this fact, because she told me in no small detail just how loathsome an individual I am.
Her parents could do nothing to control her. Ches couldn't get a word in edgewise, try as he might to deflect her diatribe. Cassandra was in full voice, locked and loaded, ready to take aim and fire, when security showed up. Three large men, even bigger than I am, tumbled out of the same elevator she'd exited less than ten minutes before.
"Er, got a problem up here, Mr. Winchester?" Pete, the guard captain asked my boss.
"I'm not really sure." Ches replied hesitantly, looking aghast at Cassandra Tillerman with mixed alarm and dread. He glanced at me. Seeing my stony silence and tight lipped demeanor, he blinked rapidly. Ches always blinks a lot when he's nervous. "Brodie? Do we have a problem?"
"No, sir." I replied, lips snapping together. "I don't have a problem. Perhaps Miss Tillerman does?"
Cassandra Tillerman had finally decided she'd gone too far. The fact that she'd drawn a crowd hadn't fazed her, but when the security team surrounded her looking tough, she got very quiet. Quelled, I think is the right word. Decidedly quelled.
"Cassie, for goodness sake, tell me what's wrong? Why are you behaving so abominably?" Her mother was appalled and not unaware of the lingering crowd.
Her father was silent, looking furtively between us. I couldn't tell if he was angry, or felt sorry for me. I was too furious to tell and too pissed off to give a shit.
"He is abhorrent!" She pointed at me, her well manicured finger shaking slightly.
"What did you do?" Mrs. Tillerman turned appealing to me.
"Shall I tell them about the little fiasco in the elevator, Mr. Whatever, or do you want to?"
I shrugged. "I'll tell them. One of us has to be an adult here. I pick me." I quickly filled them in on the salient points of our first encounter.
Miss Tillerman's face grew red, her hands clutching white knuckled at her sides. She looked ready to grab my throat and rip it out with her teeth and sink her nails into my spine.
"You wicked, nasty man! That isn't what happened at all!"
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Evelyn Winthrop is a graduate student studying psychology. She meets Tim O'Brian in the elevator at school, and is immediately attracted, only to find out he's her new teacher. Because of school policy, they shouldn't date, but that doesn't keep them both from wanting to find a way to spend time together.
Evie slipped on shoes and grabbed her keys before heading downstairs. The coffee shop was tucked away in a secluded part of the building. It was quiet and nearly empty this time of night. Tim was there at a table, smiling at her. He signaled the barista, who nodded.
"I ordered the same thing we had it breakfast. Hope that's okay."
"Perfect. Thank you."
There was an awkward pause.
"I'm sorry about running off like that," Tim said. "My brain shuts down totally when I'm around you. I go all primal Id inside and want to rip your clothes off."
The barista set the coffee down. Blushing, Tim handed her a tip.
"Not something you wanted to admit in front of Barbie, huh?"
He shrugged, tipping his head to one side. "Doesn't matter. Hiding the truth doesn't change it."
"You have a similar effect on me, Mister O'Brian."
Tim chuckled. "Playing that way, are we, Ms. Winthrop? I can't make you a part of my life's disaster," he said quietly. "I don't want you dragged into something ugly. Knowing Sharon, it would be heinous. She will subpoena every woman I know and try to make a cheater of me."
"Did you cheat?"
"What? No! I took my vows seriously. But there is a no cheat clause in the prenup. If she's proven guilty, which is going to be easy, she gets nothing. If she proves against me, which is difficult—"
"But not impossible."
"I didn't cheat, Evie. Whatever else can be said about me, I don't do that."
"Neither do I. I don't want to be the other woman."
"And I don't want you to be. I want to be the one and only. Will you wait for me? A few months, hopefully, less. I want to explore what we started here."
"You sure you don't just want sex?"
"If I did," he snapped. "We wouldn't be sitting here. We'd be at your place adultering our brains out!"
Evie chuckled at his word choice. "Is that a real thing, Tim? Adultering?"
"It sounded better than screwing and it's more than fornication, as I'm married."
"You've got to be Catholic."
"Does it show?" He playfully checked his face with his fingers.
"Not everyone knows the difference between adultery and fornication."
"I also teach human sexuality. The subjects may have come up a time or two."
"Other things come up as well," Evie teased.
"Good Lord, woman!" he gasped. "I'm trying not to screw your brains out."
"Can we still have coffee together? Or do we have to slink around out of town, or meet at sleazy motels?"
"I have that covered. I need a research assistant for my final project. How would you like a job?"
"Okay. What does the job entail? Catering to your every whim?"
"Of course not—not the way you're thinking. I need someone who can type, preferably one who can spell and is conversant with the terminology. Can you take dictation?"
"I can try. I used to type notes for girl with MS. I think I can handle it."
"You want the job?"
"How much does it pay?"
"No idea. The department secretary has details. Do you?"
"What are the hours?"
"Outrageously long and you'll constantly be in my company. You probably want to kill me. Do you want the job?” he sounded quite exasperated.
"Yes. Accepted ages ago. You weren't listening."
"No, you didn't."
"I said, okay."
Tim groaned. She had, indeed.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, May 18, 2017
It's the early 80s and Janet Yarkowsky is in finishing up her college degree at Texas Tech University, in Lubbock, Texas. She's not really looking for love, having a high school sweetheart whom she loves. But he's in the service and she hasn't heard from him in months. So when another man makes a play, she's not entirely averse.
Someone sat in the chair to her right. His scent drifted to her nose. He smelled like outdoors and hot, sexy male. Janet squirmed uncomfortably, hiding it as shifting her position in the chair.
"Vonnegut fan, huh?" He had a deep, husky voice laced with an Southeast Texas twang, not the West Texas drawl. "I was a little disappointed with that one. I have to say Slaughterhouse-Five was my favorite."
She glanced at him over the top of the book. He wasn't looking at her, he was staring at the fountain.
"As far as war books, I found Catch-22 much more interesting. But I think Heller had some serious problems...."
"Did you want something?" Janet tried to keep her voice level, neutral, but the more she looked at him, the more interesting he became.
"Yeah. A chance to go out with you."
Janet laughed loudly, muffling it when people shushed her. "You're gonna get me in trouble."
"I could get you in all kinds of trouble, but only in private," he replied with a cocky grin. "Theodore Macy. Most folks call me Tex." He held out his hand to her.
"Isn't that a little redundant. We are in Texas, after all." She didn't take the hand or introduce herself.
"I did my undergrad in New York. Wasn't quite so redundant there." He shrugged. "Hello, Tex," he said in a silly, girlish voice. "My name is...?"
Giggling, she took his hand. "Janet."
"No last name?"
"Just Janet will do."
"Just Janet, I'm a persistent cowboy. When I see the prettiest girl in the library sitting by herself, I have to ask why."
"Maybe I like being alone," she said quietly, going back to her book.
"And maybe you just didn't have the right guy come up and talk to you."
"Or maybe," she said sternly. "I like being alone."
"Nobody really likes being alone. You wouldn't come here if you wanted to be alone. You'd go lock yourself in your dorm room."
"I live in town."
"With my parents."
"Bummer. Suddenly my pants ain't smilin'...."
Raising an unfriendly eyebrow, she eyed him. He was good looking. Sandy brown hair, body bronzed by the sun, eyes the color of sage, chiseled jaw, nice physique.... She glared at him and went back to her book.
"Aw, come on, Just Janet. Cup of coffee.... You're a college student. We live on coffee."
"Are you ever going to go away?"
"No. I told you, I'm a persistent cowboy. Come on. How bad can it be having coffee with me?"
Janet had to admit that the idea held appeal. He was good looking, friendly, charming... persistent.
"Okay. Coffee. But that doesn't mean I'm giving you my number."
He chuckled, standing up. "Doesn't mean you won't...."
She grabbed her backpack and they walked together to the front doors. There was a coffee shop within walking distance, so they headed there. Sitting together at an inside cafe table, they watched the sky turn dark and nasty. The wind picked up and they laughed as a dozen tumbleweeds chased one another down the street.
"Should have brought my umbrella," Tex said with a sigh. "Can't offer to keep a lady dry if I don't have the means."
"We can sit here and try to ride it out," she suggested.
Tex shook his head. "This one's got staying power, believe me. Could be a few hours."
"How can you possibly tell?"
"Got myself a feeling. And almost six years of meteorology studies behind me." He grinned as he took a sip of his coffee. "Born during a hurricane, I grew up in Corpus Christi and I've watched the weather for over twenty years." He stared at the gloom with a soulful smile on his full lips. "Something about Mother Nature. You can't tame her, you can't predict her. Got to give up and let her do her thing, ride it out, let it happen...."
Janet watched him watch the weather. The color of his eyes picked up the gray and yellow in the sky, turning them a dark, mysterious brown. He felt her stare. Smiling nervously, his bronze skin took a rich copper tinge.
"Sorry. For me, this is a rush. I do storm chasing."
"Find a storm cell and follow it. Not even sex gives a rush like following that tornado, waiting to see where it will go."
"You follow tornadoes? Are you high?"
He laughed loudly, setting his cup down with a click. "Not at the moment. You?"
"I don't do drugs. Never have."
"Do you have any vices?"
"One or two," she flashed a secretive smile over her coffee cup.
"Oh, baby, would I like to find out what they are."
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
Asher works as a comedian in an improv group called Cheesers Champions. He meets Ruby whe she's chosen to do a sketch with him. When Asher is injured by one of the cast members, he finds out that Ruby is really a doctor. Smitten with the sultry brunette, Asher decides to ask her out.
Ruby reappeared as he inspected his back in the dressing room mirrors. She ran her fingers up and down his spine. Asher shivered, feeling his nipples tighten.
"Much improved," she said in her professional tone. "Remember, no red shirts until it's fully healed. In fact, avoid red shirts for at least six weeks. I want to make sure it's completely healed inside and out."
"Yes, ma'am. Never gone against a pretty doctor's orders."
"What about an ugly one's?" She folded her arms across her chest.
"Don't think so. I'm pretty compliant. I figure they're the ones did all the school work, so they might just know what they're talking about." He winked.
"Thank you! Do you know how much some people argue with me? I don't know if it's because they simply argue with doctors or if they argue with women. It's really irritating."
"Want me to come threaten them? I do a real good bad cop." He pulled a comical mad face.
Ruby put her hands over her mouth, laughing hard. "Oh, my God, you look like a bulldog."
"Ooh, don't let my mama hear you say that. We're Gators where I come from. Got my undergrad at University of Florida in Gainesville. You ready to go?"
"I'll walk you to your car, Dr. Ruby."
"I'd like that. What time tomorrow? For our date."
"I was thinking grab a late breakfast, then figure it out. I got a couple ideas."
"You're gonna have to tell me where you live, though."
She smiled. "You know the Brodie Building on the river?"
"Yeah. Nice place. You live there?"
"Pricey place. Hope you don't mind goin' out with a poor Southern boy."
"I'm not rich. I'm leasing from the owner, who's a friend of mine from the hospital. Just so happens that poor Southern boys are just my cup of tea."
They arrived at her car, parked not far from his. They were among the only cars in the lot.
He pulled her close, hips against hers. "I'm more of a coffee guy."
"I love coffee."
"Cool. See you tomorrow, ten thirty okay?"
Asher waited until she got in her car and started the engine. She pulled away, waving at him as she eased into traffic. Once she turned, Asher did a happy dance back to his car. It was a short drive, in the opposite direction from Ruby. He was glad that the building had assigned spots or he'd never have a parking space. He also appreciated the fact that his neighbors knew how to park so he never had to worry about squeezing into a spot.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Surau is one of the villains in Shakazhan, though he doesn't meet his end until The Maker. I was going to share that moment, but decided that if you want to know what happens to him, you'll need to read the book.
After Riley's demise in Shakazhan, Surau is imprisoned, guarded by the Sentience's sentinals. Unfortunately, when they shut off the planet's systems in order to reboot the Sentience's programming, they don't figure on the fact that this will shut down her robot guards as well.
The Sentience coalesced and shimmered by their side, holding her hands as if she were blessing them all. More cheering followed. In the back ground, Wil heard a disturbing sound. He could tell Marc heard it too. An alarm howled down one of the tunnels. A sentinel, calling for help from its comrades.
"Quiet!" Wil roared in his battlefield voice.
Silence fell immediately. When everyone heard the alarm, panic set in. Sentience listened to a report, her brow furrowing in a very human way. "The prisoner has escaped!"
"Surau? But how could he?" Wil couldn't believe it.
"I didn't realize the sentinels would also turn off when the reboot came. He's gotten free! We have to find him!" Sentience cried.
"Matilda, you stay here, Marc and I can get him," Wil cautioned.
"No, I have to go, you need me!"
Wil didn't have time to argue. He, Marc, Matilda and Ben set off at a dead run. Ray and the Cats did their best to control the crowd, herding the people out of the cavern and back to the teleporters.
Having no gun, Matilda thought of her sword and dagger, but running with bladed weapons was foolish. She just pulled up her skirt and ran, kicking off her high heeled shoes. She still had her claws, that would have to do for now.
They arrived at Surau's lab, breathless and anxious. The sentinel shut off its alarm as soon as it saw them coming. It led them down the hall and then off to the right, along an unfamiliar tunnel.
"Where are we going?" Wil demanded.
The sentinel didn't respond.
"I asked a question"
It said nothing, just indicated they should follow it.
"It could be a trap, Wil." Marc's frown deepened.
"I'm aware of that, but we have to take the chance. If he gets too far, we may never get him back. There's no telling what he's capable of."
Marc and Ben nodded resignedly, not liking it, but liking the alternatives less.
Wil took point, Matilda falling into place slightly behind and right of him. Marc came in next to her on the left and Ben brought up the rear. The area was fairly clear, but they soon found the going harder. With damaged floors and walls partially caved in, the path got rough. Matilda regretted removing her shoes, but there was no going back for them. She ordered her Kindred suit to protect her feet and picked her way carefully.
They came to a junction. A stone tunnel lay to the left and a metal passage to their right. Ahead of them was a blank wall of dirt and debris where the stone tunnel had caved in. Wil started left, his decision confirmed by the sentinel.
Having no knowledge of what lay ahead, Wil did a quick recon. The others waited several feet behind him. Matilda was in a panic the entire time he was gone, but he returned in a few minutes. He moved quickly, a silent blur and he stood beside her. Using hand signals, he told them the way was clear, no branching passages.
When they reached the next junction, he sent the sentinel down to check one passage, while he went down the other. Again, one of them was blocked. The sentinel scurried back to their position and Wil came up shortly after.
"Nothing," he signaled. "We've lost him."
The sentinel flashed its lights, flying to the other passage, then back to their position. Frowning, Wil hesitated. Marc set off after the sentinel. Wil followed, Matilda right behind him, with Ben in the rear. The sentinel stopped about ten feet ahead of them, at a branching tunnel.
Marc approached cautiously, weapon ready. A quick glance left and right, he stepped back toward them, still facing the tunnels. He shrugged, unsure of which way to go.
The blank wall in front of them exploded outward, hurling them back. Surau had hidden himself in the partially collapsed wall. He leapt at them, giant scorpion tail up and threatening to strike. In the confined space, he couldn't use his most deadly weapon, but his tusks and talons did well enough.
Bellowing loudly, Surau rushed them, forcing them back. Matilda took a swipe at him with her claws, but they glanced off his hide and one of them tangled briefly in his tusks. Red eyes glittered with insanity, as he lowered his head to charge.
at May 11, 2017
Tuesday, May 09, 2017
It's been a long time since I promised The Maker would return and I apologize. With one thing and another, it's taken longer than I anticipated to get it reader ready.
A fading sun glimmered listlessly in the cloudless sky, growing dimmer each cycle. Shakazhan, the near dead planet below limped around the dying star, knowing no change of seasons. Dreary, gray-brown, scrubby foliage hung on by sheer tenacity, born of long habit. So these two had coexisted for millennia, neither giving in to entropy. At least they had until a year ago when once again, human feet touched the parched, desolate landscape.
Lost in the mists of myth and legend, no one had disturbed the planet's slumber until Wil VanLipsig and his wife, Matilda Dulac, arrived. They came in pursuit of Wil's son, John Riley, who sought to free the evil Kahlea Master. John Riley was dead, killed by his father. The Kahlea perished too, but not until after he had called to his brothers, begging for revenge. The Kahlea, their great minds as twisted as their grotesque bodies, once laid waste to Shakazhan. Their power seemed limitless, until the arrival of the Timokuan. These fierce warriors faced the Kahlea, driving them back to the deepest pits of space which spawned them.
Shakazhan barely survived, its stars destroyed, its sun drained of energy. And so it sat for millennia, waiting until such time as humanity returned, ready to rebuild it to its former glory. Now, no longer silent, Shakazhan is the center of great activity. Wil and Matilda prepare their small, but courageous force, to combat the encroaching Kahlea and their minions. Paths are worn in the stunted brown vegetation, leading from the teleport pads to the entrance of the planet's only existing structure, The Halls of the Hallowed Dead. The once dazzling golden arched entrance, flanked by elegant statues of warriors, glitters dully in the waning sun. It is all that attests to the glory that was Shakazhan.
Voices carry on the still air, echoing from the exposed rock face nearby. Laughter joins speech, creating a cacophony of sound far different from the clash and thunder of Kahlea war machines of the past. People live in domed buildings, in the shelter of these massive cliffs, finding solace in their presence.
Two great sentient, living ships circle the planet in stately, geosynchronous orbit, they provide shelter for those who have traveled so far from home. An elongated teardrop, each is the size of a large asteroid. A mated pair, Hammer and Anvil, house humans and the Kindred—an alien race who have sworn to fight the Kahlea. Highly advanced, the Kindred crew the ships, work as planet-side technicians and augment the human forces. Their telepathic powers make them a formidable ally.
The sun sinks below the horizon. Activity slows, as the humans take off from work early. It is a day of celebration, a time of peace. By the reckoning of the human's calendar, it's Christmas Eve.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Sunday, May 07, 2017
Monday, May 8, 2017 at 4 PM EDT on Blog Talk Radio – Dellani's Tea Time with Whit, Christy and Brian.
Is it May already? To help us greet the month, we welcome three wonderful authors. All of them have been on before and we're delighted to have them back with us.
Whit McClendon is the author of Mage's Burden, Gart's Road and A Mage Awakens Book 3, Short Workouts for Beginners Get Healthier and Stronger at Home (Jade Mountain Workout Series Book 1) Whit will chat with us from 4:00 – 4:40 PM EDT
Christy Nicholas is the author of Legacy of Hunger; Ireland- Mythical, Magical, Mystical – A Guide to Hidden Ireland; Scotland – Stunning, Strange and Secret – a Guide to Hidden Scotland. Christy will chat with us from 4:40 – 5:20 PM EDT
Brian Briscoe is the author of The Conflict Etiquette Handbook: The Art of Behaving Well in the Midst of Conflict and Juke: A Blues Novel. Brian will chat with us from 5:20 – 6:00 PM EDT.
"If we agree," Wil stood looking at the far wall, not at his wife or the Sentience. "What guarantee do I have that they wo...
TODAY from 4:00 – 6:00 PM EST on Blog Talk Radio Dellani and Christina are delighted to welcome back two fantastic authors, and greet a ...
"Ms. Kendrake, they're expecting you upstairs on the fifth floor, room fifty forty-two. There will be someone at the desk up the...
Rain fell in endless sheets, hammering against the windshield. Wiper blades on high couldn't keep up, clearing a patch here and there, ...