D. Wallace Peach and the Necromancer’s Daughter

Tags

Ball gowns, D. Wallace Peach, Dragons, fantasy, Legend, Magic, The Necromancer's Daughter

Greetings Shey, I’m so happy to be visiting with you and the Dudes.

We often chat about gowns and your heroines’ beautiful attire,

so I thought today we could touch base on the topic of fashion.In The Necromancer’s Daughter, my poor character Aster spends most of the book dressed as a peasant and filthy from weeks of rough travel. But there’s one point in the book where she’s dressed up to meet her uncle, the king. Here’s a peek (slightly condensed):

Layers of rose, cream, and violet silk cascaded around her legs like water. Even on the high wooden soles of her embroidered slippers, the wide openings of her sleeves nearly brushed the floor. Two women wrapped her waist in a blue sash and smoothed out the puckers in the final layer, a sleeveless blue robe embroidered with dragons along the hem.

The queen entered and stepped behind her, tall and imposing. The two of them gazed into the standing mirror. “The colors suit you, Aster. Anything brighter would have left you looking like a ghost.” The queen swished around her for a final inspection. “We have completed our transformation. Let us see if the king approves.”

One lady bustled for the door while the others pinched at Aster’s clothing, correcting invisible oversights. Despite the supple apparel, Aster stepped into the hallway as if she balanced a tea set on her head.

“You’re not posing for a portrait,” the queen whispered. “You must let the clothing flow. Therein lies the beauty of silk.”

I also created a graphic for a gown! 

This isn’t Aster’s gown, since it’s not the right colors. But it’s the style – based on traditional hanfu Chinese clothing.  And that’s the dragon Grandfather with Scars behind her.

Thanks so much for letting me come over and play!

***

Blurb:

A healer and dabbler in the dark arts of life and death, Barus is as gnarled as an ancient tree. Forgotten in the chaos of the dying queen’s chamber, he spirits away her stillborn infant, and in a hovel at the meadow’s edge, he breathes life into the wisp of a child. He names her Aster for the lea’s white flowers. Raised as his daughter, she learns to heal death.

Then the day arrives when the widowed king, his own life nearing its end, defies the Red Order’s warning. He summons the necromancer’s daughter, his only heir, and for his boldness, he falls to an assassin’s blade.

While Barus hides from the Order’s soldiers, Aster leads their masters beyond the wall into the Forest of Silvern Cats, a land of dragons and barbarian tribes. She seeks her mother’s people, the powerful rulers of Blackrock, uncertain whether she will find sanctuary or face a gallows’ noose.

Unprepared for a world rife with danger, a world divided by those who practice magic and those who hunt them, she must choose whether to trust the one man offering her aid, the one man most likely to betray her—her enemy’s son.

A healer with the talent to unravel death, a child reborn, a father lusting for vengeance, and a son torn between justice, faith, and love. Caught in a chase spanning kingdoms, each must decide the nature of good and evil, the lengths they will go to survive, and what they are willing to lose.

***

MY REVIEW. -SHEHANNE MOORE.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, fantasy is not my preferred genre. But a  special author and  story will always convince me to click ‘buy.’ And D. Wallace Peach is such an author.  Her world building –for me a key element in fantasy writing—is second to none.  Set against that we have Aster, the stillborn daughter of the King of Verdane.  Yes, you may wonder how a stillborn baby can go on to be the heroine in a fantasy novel, but trust me she is because the man tasked with saving her has the gift of bringing the dead back to life. He just doesn’t manage it immediately.  The themes are universal. An ageing  man suddenly aware he has an heir, an Order that will stop at nothing–not even murder–to thwart this,  a  perilous journey through lands torn between ,hunted and hunters, in other words, good versus evil at every turn, and a fantastic cast of characters along the way, all in the skilled hands of a writer who knows how to deliver.

The dudes give it 5 paws.

D. Wallace Peach.

A long-time reader, best-selling author D. Wallace Peach started writing later in life when years of working in business surrendered to a full-time indulgence in the imaginative world of books. She was instantly hooked.

In addition to fantasy books, Peach’s publishing career includes participation in various anthologies featuring short stories, flash fiction, and poetry. She’s an avid supporter of the arts in her local community, organizing and publishing annual anthologies of Oregon prose, poetry, and photography.

Peach lives in a log cabin amongst the tall evergreens and emerald moss of Oregon’s rainforest with her husband, two owls, a horde of bats, and the occasional family of coyotes.

***

Links:

US: https://www.amazon.com/Necromancers-Daughter-D-Wallace-Peach-ebook/dp/B0B92G7QZX

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Necromancers-Daughter-D-Wallace-Peach-ebook/dp/B0B92G7QZX

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Necromancers-Daughter-D-Wallace-Peach-ebook/dp/B0B92G7QZX

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Necromancers-Daughter-D-Wallace-Peach/dp/B0B9FY6YZJ

IN: https://www.amazon.in/Necromancers-Daughter-D-Wallace-Peach-ebook/dp/B0B92G7QZX

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Apple

Amazon Author’s Page: https://www.amazon.com/D.-Wallace-Peach/e/B00CLKLXP8

Website/Blog: http://mythsofthemirror.com

Website/Books: http://dwallacepeachbooks.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Dwallacepeach

***

Carolyn Haynes, Bewitched and a Beloved Star

Tags

Bewitched, Carolyn Haynes, Lloyd Haynes, Room 222 B, Sol Saks, writing

‘Have you ever seen one of those dramatic moments in a film when two people meet, and all the noise in the room disappears?’

CAROLYN. Yes, it was at Hugh Hefner‘s party, and I was there to meet Hugh and his then-girlfriend Barbie Benton. I don’t think I ever believed in love at first sight until that evening. Even then, it took some time before I realized the thunderbolt was love. LOL During my conversation with Lloyd, I asked him what he did for a living, and he told me he was a bra salesman. Considering where we were, I thought business must be good. Besides, Lloyd was too convincing for me to laugh out loud, so I just stared quietly. LOL 

CAROLYN. Lloyd Haynes, the lead actor of the 1970s TV show Room 222. The show had premiered a month earlier, and I missed it and didn’t know who Lloyd was. Despite that evening we weren’t together right away. It was quite a long journey.

CAROLYN. I started as a child with dancing, ballet, piano, voice, and modeling lessons. Then appeared in a few children’s shows, sang with on-camera personalities. I still have newspaper clippings that my mother saved. I grew into television, films, sang in a few clubs, and Lloyd and I almost toured together as singers, but my family came first.

CAROLYN. Yes, after Lloyd died, I wasn’t ready to go back to acting, and working with Sol Saks became available.

CAROLYN. Yes! I’ve been in the process of writing a book on Bewitched for the last two years now. I’m editing at the moment and hope to find a publisher with more clout to launch the book.

CAROLYN. Over the years, people asked questions regarding Lloyd and growing up in the Hollywood area. Then, one day a dear friend suggested I write a book. I was reluctant, but she convinced me.

I prayed a lot and began the four-year adventure that I surprisingly enjoyed. With the success of my first book, I then had the honor to write a book for Sol Saks. Though he did ask me a couple of times while we worked together, I couldn’t imagine writing in those days. 

CAROLYN Thank you, dudes. I hope it’s a book that people enjoy reading. The best advice I received on writing I learned from Sol Saks. During the years we worked together, I took pages of notes on the advice he gave university students, his regime, and experiences writing for newspapers, scripts for radio, television, and books. His words explain it so much better than I can, and I believe I’ve captured the advice in this new book. 

ABOUT CAROLYN

A native of Los Angeles, California U.S.A. and born into a large fun-loving Italian family, I had the good fortune to grow up in Montrose, California and New York. I have been blessed with four wonderfully talented children, worked as an actor, assisted Mr. Sol Saks of “Bewitched” with his writing projects, continued my formal education, and traveled. Now, “Help for Angela,” my first true short story has just been published and Imy special biography, “The Lloyd Haynes Story.” Samuel Lloyd Haynes, notably known for his staring depiction of Pete Dixon on “Room 222,” is a look at an extraordinary international, multicultural, and sometimes controversial soul that I think you will enjoy.

CONNECT WITH CAROLYN HERE

https://twitter.com/carolyngrace505?lang=en

https://www.facebook.com/carolynhaynes5050

https://thelloydhaynesstory.wordpress.com/

https://amzn.eu/3oNCik6

Lloyd Haynes, the beloved star of critically acclaimed 1970s television series Room 222. A visceral story of unyielding love and epic valor, as we follow Lloyd Haynes remarkable journey from a family mortuary to stardom, military officer, and recognition from the U. S. Senate. “With all those gorgeous women around, what made his eyes seek-out yours? Or, did you seek-out his?” Alison Bogert A MUST READ- SUPERBLY WRITTEN – The Tribune

SheyGoths and Otherworld Adventures

Tags

Art Gowns, Fantasy Fiction, fiction, Resa McConaghy

‘OTHERWORLD ADVENTURES BY RESA McCONAGHY’

Princess Blue Holly descended gracefully into Otherworld.

She was led by her Tangle-Heart. A moonless night was falling, as it watched over the defoliated magic trees.

Upon arrival, Blue Holly adopted the garb of the common peoples of Otherworld. She wandered tirelessly through a dark, eternal 3 a.m., searching for SheyGoth.

At first the song was far away, but PBH followed the music. AGM Shey was an incurable romantic. She was sure SheyGoth was behind the music.

As PBH drew near to SheyGoth, DracGoth intercepted.

“Princess Blue, I call you out! You are not in your league here. You have few powers to do anything. SheyGoth is here of her own free will. She can only leave of her own free will. We are Otherworld lovers.”

Blue Holly faced him dead on, albeit a tad cheeky.

“Was it the red hair that tipped you off? Look, I just want to talk to SheyGoth!”

SheyGoth appeared behind her Goth lover.“Princess Blue, I have no desire to talk with you!”

PBH replied, “then at least speak with Rene. You owe her that much. She made you, and all of the Art Gowns Models international celebrities.”

Driven by her love for all her AGM sisters, SheyGoth conceded. Blue Holly chose Nowhere & Nothing World, for the meeting. SheyGoth slipped on a simple gown, thereby becoming AGM Shey for the occasion.

A hologram of Rene Rosso appeared. “Come home dear Shey!”

“Remember the gowns, the colours, the joys of the catwalk? Remember Holly, Dale, Marina & Gigi? Remember how all the AGMs help each other? They wait for you! Rebecca Budd says she can’t do another show without you!”

AGM Shey’s memories filled the air around her. Soon her true colour  came back.

AGM Shey looked at RR, and asked,”Will you sing “Once I Was Loved”, by Melody Gardot?”

DracGoth was frantic. “SheyGoth, don’t leave me! I love you! I need you! We are Otherworld lovers!”

“Sorry, Dahling! As much as I love our loving, there is no colour, no daytime, no any other time but 3 a.m. here. The Girlfriends and Gowns are calling. Dahling, you can come up and see me any night! I’ll wait in the dark for you.”

With that, SheyGoth slowly faded into a golden glow. The golden glow was cast upon the leafless magic trees.

Soon AGM Shey’s tree and all other magic trees were green again.

One-eye shed a tear for love.

Princess Blue Holly & Rene Rosso characters © Resa McConaghy & Holly Rene Hunter

Since September 2019

Shey – Gigi – Marina – Dale – Holly

All magic tree photos curtesy of & © Timothy Price – Off Center Not Even

TWO Things of note.

1. I was commissioned to draw Dracula. DracGoth is some of the drawings that did not win. Here is the winner:

2. AGM Shey/aka SheyGoth/ aka Shehanne Moore – IS a true romantic. She writes the best historical romances, ever! Of 8 I’ve read 7. I’ve reviewed 6 here on Art Gowns. More will come!

Click on the above banner & go to Shey’s Amazon page!

In case you missed the first episode to this adventure, click on the pic below, and go there!

Otherworld Adventure https://artgowns.com/2021/05/04/otherworld-adventure/ via @resalis

ABOUT RESA

My name is Resa McConaghy. I’m a Costume Designer for film and television.

“Art Gowns” is a creative project that has sprung from my old Blog,  Queen’s end.

As “Art Gowns” continues on,  I will Post other creative clothing ideas with the “Art Gowns” branding.

All of these ideas, of course, will revolve around the “Art of Glamorous Fantasy”. I’m thinking things like Poetry Shirts, DIY Gowns and DIY Crystaline Accessories.

This is all new to me, and should develop with time.

Cheers!

A Great Day for Hamsters

Tags

Animal testing, animals, Oil & Water, P.J. Lazos

A Great Day for Hamsters by P. J Lazos

On September 10, 2019, EPA Administrator Andrew Wheeler announced the EPA’s plan to dramatically reduce its reliance on animal testing when researching and determining the efficacy of new drugs, pledging that the Agency would end animal testing by 2035.  How will EPA do this?  By denying funding requests for mammal studies.  While animal rights groups love the idea, the enviros and public health populations are not so sure.

Animal testings involves using a live subject — a mouse, fish, rabbit, hamster, guinea pig or regular pig, a chimpanzee, even a Mayfly — to test a new drug, pesticide, cosmetic, or other product for safety and efficacy before testing it on humans. About 26 million animals lend themselves, without consent (obvi), to animal testing each year in the U.S. alone, a practice that started as early as the 4th century BCE with the Ancient Greeks.

Animal testing is such a difficult topic. I love my furry friends just as much as Lady Shey loves her hamsters and can’t imagine them being used for testing, but what about the alternative?

For the Ancients, the alternative was humans or nothing.  But we’re no longer ancient and we have centuries of information at our disposal, right?  After reading the pros and cons, I’m convinced that banning animal testing is the way to go.

So, my Hamster Dudes, pull up your little chairs, grab a drink and a snack (although some of what I recount may discourage your appetite), put on your little reading glasses, and settle in. I hope this list doesn’t upset you too much, little Dudes, but if so, try to remain composed.

A roundup of conflicting viewpoints:

When we first started out a gazillion years ago, we knew little of anatomy, biology, chemistry and the like, but as the years progressed, the great scholars and artists started taking notes. Michelangelo, one of the greatest sculptors and painters of the Italian Renaissance would sneak into the morgue in the Monastery at Santo Spirito in Florence in the middle of the night and dissect human bodies as a way to inform his art.   https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1279184/  Today, almost everything we know has been uploaded into a data base somewhere that we can all access, meaning much of the original groundwork is covered, meaning we don’t need to dissect bodies in secret.

Some people believe that by eliminating animal testing we will make our drugs less safe and that using animals to test drugs provides a live specimen rather than a model, leading to breakthroughs in developing new machines and technology that otherwise wouldn’t be discoverable with modeling alone. As a result, many technological advances such as scanners, pacemakers, and surgical techniques were first developed using animals.

In addition, the living body is not just a bunch of disjointed parts working independently. It’s a well-oiled, amazingly integrated machine, the gestalt of which is far greater than the sum of its parts.  Often researchers will induce systems in animals so they can study the various effects of a drug on a disease that otherwise would be difficult to study.  Working on live specimens helps the researcher understand the effect on the entire body in addition to what a single drug does for a single ailment.

Our pets share many illnesses with their humans such as hardening of the arteries, diabetes, cataracts, cancer, and more which makes them good test subjects. I wonder though — is it because they are forced to eat the same crappy food as we humans, devoid of nutrients and loaded with disease-causing additives like high fructose corn syrup, or is it some kind of sympathy sickness?  Also, if a drug is shown to be efficacious on animals it doesn’t mean it will work on humans. In fact, 94% of drugs that got the green light because of animal testing failed in human clinical trials.

In almost half of the cases, animal studies don’t predict the human outcome. As computers and artificial intelligence advances, the opportunities to experiment with computer-generated, non-living creatures increases exponentially.

Consider this: In the book, “Let the Dog Drive” a car manufacturer uses living dogs to crash test vehicles.  Check it out.  It was a real thing and not just a work of fiction:

https://www.peta.org/blog/25-year-anniversary-peta-ends-car-crash-tests-on-animals/  I mean — cruel!  Not to mention that it falls squarely in the “researchers who deliberately mistreat animals” category.  Eww!  Conversely, those same animals saved some poor humans the pain of crashing-sans-testing!

Animal testing is more expensive, is not a stable predictor, and the test results are more often inaccurate than correct; plus it follows the old ways rather than embracing new technology. Instead, why not study cells under a microscope?  A whole pharmaceutical industry was built doing business this way.

To encourage scientists to abandon animal testing in favor of more benign experiments, EPA is offering $4.25 million in grants to five universities in the hopes that they can come up with safe alternatives. I wish the EPA and the partnering universities success in this endeavor.

The Buddhists believe that all life is sentient which means even the mayflies whose life cycle is all of one day can “feel” something. Perhaps it’s time to quit animal testing and practice on non-sentient beings like computers.  The results will be greater and far more specific.  After all, don’t we need to give super computers something to do?  We have the technology.  We can do this thing without harming a hair on those furry little hamster heads.

The Dudes can take a deep relaxing breath now because the EPA is on their side. Just make sure you guys stay out of the lab between now and 2035 and you’ll be fine.

Good luck out there.

P. J. Lazos is the author of the novel Oil and Water, about oil spills and green technology, and of Six Sisters, a collection of novellas; a blogger for the Global Water Alliance (GWA) in Philadelphia; on the Board of Advisors for the wH2O Journal, the Journal of Gender and Water (U of Penn); a member of the Jr. League of Lancaster; a former correspondent for her local newspaper (Lancaster Intelligencer Journal now LNP); a literary magazine contributor (Rapportage); an editor; a ghostwriter; an author of a children’s book (Into the Land of the Loud); an environmental lawyer; and, because it’s cool, a beekeeper’s apprentice. She practices laughter daily.

The Gowns of Destiny.

Tags

Cornwall, Resa's Artgowns

 

O’Roarke’s Destiny – by Shehanne Moore

A REBLOG OF ARTGOWNS, DESTINY GOWNS AND A REVIEW FROM RESA BY RESA

Is the line between love and hate so fine you can’t see it? If you can’t see it, can you cross it?

Some women are attracted to bad boys. Are some men attracted to bad girls? What if a good boy became a bad boy? What if a bad girl became a good girl, even when she was bad?

That’s just part of the passion play in O’Roarke’s Destiny. The intrigue, mystery and small matter of an effective curse cast by Diver’s O’Roarke is the story’s action.

It’s 1801, Cornwall; a time when women needed men, more than men needed women. Or, so society knew. 1801, Cornwall; Destiny Rhodes needs no one, nor anything: save Doom Bar Hall, its servants, Aunt Modesty’s porcelain, Lord Tredwynne’s antique armour, Grandfather Austell’s stuffed parrots, garlands in the hall at Christmas, her garden and all the embroidered pillows sewn up mended.  At least that’s what Destiny was thinking. 

However, it all seems somewhat moot after Divers O’Roarke wins Doom Bar Hall, from Destiny’s drunkard brother, Orwell.

It’s a world of smugglers, pirates, excisemen and extreme danger, yet, Destiny needs only her instincts. She’s in over her head, but owns a drive to do what has to be done to get to the bottom of what is going on, and retain a position to remain at Doom Bar Hall.

Still, Lyons busted her illegal casks of spirits. Who tipped him off?  Mostly, why did Divers O”Roarke take the fall for her?

💥 BREAKING NEWS! 💥

There’s gowns in the story.

Tragically, Destiny’s dear husband Ennis, while in his carriage, had cascaded to his death into a ravine.(credit to the curse) Now, Destiny is in an eternal mourning in black. On top of it all, she has pined away her body’s curves, and chopped off her luscious long black hair.

Divers O’Roarke wants her, but black is for widows. He has won Doom Bar Hall … fair & square? So, her gowns are his, to sell at his pleasure. Yet, his pleasure is far from the few bits of coin he could get for the gowns. What he wants is to see Destiny, in any gown other than widow’s black.

Eventually, Destiny must wear a gown for him. She dons her least sexy gown, which is in Egyptian blue. (I don’t have that colour in my caddy, but I came up with an eau de nil). This colour is not her best, possibly her worst, definitely her most disliked.

Yet, what Divers O’Roarke wants is to see her in her most vibrant and glorious red gown. Will she wear it?

1. How did the idea of a curse come up? Are you superstitious, dabble in say; Tarot or Astrology? How/why did the curse entail everything turning to dust? Why not turn to toads, a lowly insect or even a hamster? (a little cheek)

Oh, now there was  a time I  did some work for a psychic  journalist. I did once say what haven’t I done writing wise and other way wise when it comes to earning a crust. And yes I also did some Tarot work for her too as part of that. So I did learn the cards.  At that time I also could do card readings from  playing cards. I had a great aunt who could do the tea leafs.  That totally fascinated me growing up. I think much as we may mock it, we do want to know a bit about what’s ahead, that HOPEFULY there’s a corner that will be turned or some good luck coming. As for the  curse idea? Well, the book started about a house that the heroine had lost. And that idea came from us having to sell up our family home and me jokingly saying to a friend, I should just have flung myself in with it as a housekeeper. Then I thought BINGO idea for a book here. And it started out as fun and frothy but there were things on the table that weren’t right. Like why didn’t the hero just put her out? How can he be so besotted with this family when they were horrible to him as a child? Was light and frothy going to sustain a book? Then for some reason I saw their pasts and how and why he had cursed her and how everything had then gone wrong in her life since. Everyone she cared about has died. So she gets this name locally that way. Now if only I had thought beyond the box though, you are right. He should have said may everything you touch turn into a hamster dude. But then she’d have been overrun.  That might have been a worse curse.  2. Your use of humour helps in feeling the underlying intense emotional states of Destiny and O’Roarke.  With Destiny it’s the simple practical day to day things she plans to do the next day. With O’Roarke, it’s what to dig his grave with. Did you intend these character’s personal thoughts to be a humorous relief? Or did it just turn out that way?

No. Firstly I always like to use humour of thoughts. We all have them, let’s be clear. Maybe not about graves and what to dig them with etc., but we do have little idiosyncrasies and of course we are not always aware of them either.  And I also know my readers expect to have a few giggles. So I couldn’t not. My characters always have some kind of wee saying or attitude. One heroine had sliding scales of things. Another would sooner swallow a crocodile than do whatever and as the book went on, that list grew and grew. One hero–my most impatient one–had Christ on various things.  I did feel this book would be a bit dark if I didn’t have these bits. They are neither of them in the best place emotionally.  However I then have the prob of her being a widow and I did NOT want to tackle it by having her thinking well, she was widow, thank God, because she had every reason not to have loved her husband. I felt that was a get out.  So I thought if I had her, having been hit so hard that her way through is to line up  tasks and tick the boxes, that that actually could prove quite humorous, especially if she’s so busy lining up these tasks, while people keep ‘getting in her face’  she doesn’t see how deep the waters are getting. It was like a wee you may think wink to my readers  she’s going to be incandescent with rage the way my other ladies would be, but you are in for a surprise here. She’s too busy thinking she has that cushion cover to sew and that stool to mend. In a way these are the things that also need to be prised loose from her fingertips. 

 3. I’m fascinated by “Doom Bar Hall”. How did you come up with that name? Had you considered calling it “Rhodes Hall”?

Doom Bar Hall was called after Doom Bar sandbar in Cornwall. Given I wanted to write of curses and smuggling, and not such great emotional states, I wanted something dark sounding and it is quite a fearsome sandbar I gather, responsible for hundreds of ship wrecks down the years. Originally before I went from frothy to dark, from Hampshire to Cornwall geographically,  the house was called Lavistock and the book title was the Lady of Lavistock. Divers wasn’t called Divers O’Roarke either at that point. I just felt all round this was stronger. I do like to create a pervading mood and landscape for each book. This became the one here.

Resa, I want to thank you not just for inviting me here today, but your wonderful friendship AND the talent and readiness to use it to create gowns, for all those you create gowns for AND that includes my ladies. They and I salute you. 

Here’ s the first drawing I did of Destiny. I was trying too, hard with the chopped off hair look. Yet, I still like it, because she looks like a pirate courtesan, with hair for an eye patch.  Yet, perhaps this is a more correct visual introduction to Destiny.

Shehanne Moore is a native of Scotland, Dundonian by birth. She is the author of many Romance novels.

Having read 3 (almost 4) of her books, I can say her attention to the details of an era puts one in a different time and place. You don’t question it. You are there.

As for the flame of love she burns with her words, I suggest you read a book to see the fire!

Click on the pic below, to buy O’Roarke’s Destiny on Amazon!

A cover for one’s book can be as daunting as writing it. After a great search, Shehanne found the image below. The colours were wrong, but they were made right.

Eye’d like to thank all who took the time to read this post. Love you all!

“Destiny” As a Resa one eye

NOW ALL ABOUT RESA

My name is Resa McConaghy. I’m a Costume Designer for film and television.

“Art Gowns” is a creative project that has sprung from my old Blog,  Queen’s end.

As “Art Gowns” continues on,  I will Post other creative clothing ideas with the “Art Gowns” branding.

All of these ideas, of course, will revolve around the “Art of Glamorous Fantasy”. I’m thinking things like Poetry Shirts, DIY Gowns and DIY Crystaline Accessories.

This is all new to me, and should develop with time.

https://artgowns.com/

A dance with her wouldn’t exactly kill him. #Scottish Brides and murder

Tags

Black Wolf Books, His Judas Bride, Historical Scottish Brides, Lucia de Lammermoor, Shehanne Moore, The Bride of Baldoon, Walter Scott

Today…

Today His Judas Bride is out in paperback. FOR THE FIRST TIME.

So I thought, why not just get the dudes to help me blog this lovely blog I wrote way back about brides. Scottish brides in particular. There is surely nothing like rooting a piece of fiction in reality.  Of course I was going to get Bobby Bub to tell us all about his lovely bride Olga.

But there, as you can see he has forgotten.

I don’t think so. It might bore you so you fall asleep at your present making.

Okay so…where were we…? Yes. Rooting fiction in reality. And why, having chosen Glencoe as a setting, I then thought, well what kind of book would I want to write.

Scotland has a proud reputation for brides. Yes.

Lucia de Lammermoor. Okay. Italian yeah I get it. An opera from the book, The Bride of Lammermoor by Walter Scott no less. Aka the Bride of Baldoon. No matter the version you accept of the story, the facts leading to the wedding day and its aftermath are always the same. She was a nobleman’s daughter in love with someone else, after the wedding feast Mr was found with a dagger in his heart.

You know I think it just was.

Then…Then there was the Cumming bride, whose lovely father agreed to her marrying into the Mackintoshes so his clan could enjoy a little banquet carve up over the hors d’oevres. When it came to exchanging rings this was somewhat difficult, since the bride’s hands had been hacked off as she clung to the castle battlements. The hand-fasting ribbons would have made wonderful bandages as you can see… had she not fallen to her death. 

Or even…dare I mention it… ribbons for decorating Christmas pressies? Moving swiftly on as she did, how about the bride story that rocked Cromarty concerning a woman who appeared from nowhere, married the laird and disappeared…well she didn’t just quite disappear, she went off with a man in black.

Man as in the devil after he turned up at the feast looking for her. Neither he nor she were ever seen again and it was very clear she did not want to go with him either. What with all that inspiration, how could I not write a story about a bride?

As for the plum cake Ulla had probably labored all day to make, or maybe it was Ewen McDunnagh, it was in as many pieces as the plate it had sat on.

Talking was not a wise decision.

“Do you know I used to go about this glen, with a black wolf pelt on my shoulder?”

She didn’t. Firstly, the vision was surreal. But she didn’t want to say so, when this had gone so badly wrong and he was standing in the center of the carnage with his back to her so she couldn’t see his face.

“I got it from the devil.”

She edged a breath. Most people with any desire to go about Lochalpin dressed like that, would just have killed a wolf, maybe waited till they found a dead one to get the pelt. Him now?

“The self same day Morven died. It let me take care of quite a bit of business when I wore it.”

No wonder. If he was telling her all this, maybe she should say something? But when the things he’d said about protecting her were too unnerving, how could she? Unless they were part of the game? Bringing her here, when he was knew fine why she’d come. Part of it anyway. The other bit? All of it? She swallowed.

“Well anyway.” He straightened, strode to the door. A few muttered words were exchanged with Wee Murdie.

Kara moistened her lower lip. Had the time been spent where she should have said something?

He turned to her. “Maybe if I’d kept that pelt I’d have taken care of this business a little sooner and a bit better but I didn’t. And you’re really leaving me no choice.”

————————————————–

If he knew how to stop this he would

Desiring her could be murder.

To love, honor, and betray…

To get back her son, she will stop at nothing…

Dire circumstances have forced Kara McGurkie to forget she’s a woman. Dire circumstances force her to swear to love and honor, to help destroy a clan, when it means getting back her son. But when dire circumstances force her to seduce her fiancé’s brother on the eve of the wedding, will the dark secrets she holds and her greatest desire be enough to save her from his powerful allure?

To save his people, neither will he…

Since his wife’s murder, Callm McDunnagh, the Black Wolf of Lochalpin, ruthlessly guards heart and glen from dangerous intruders. But from the moment he first sees Kara he knows he must possess her, even though surrendering to his passion may prove the most dangerous risk of all.

 She has nothing left to fear except love itself…

Now only Kara can decide what passion can save or destroy, and who will finally learn the truth of the words… Till death do us part.

https://amzn.to/2rNOMTE

https://amzn.to/2EzHCKf

 

In print and in deepest Berkshire….

Tags

Berkshire, Bisham Abbey, Black Wolf Books, Catherine Cavendish, Elizabeth Hoby, ghosts, haunted Berkshire, Loving ady Lazuli, Shaw House, Shehanne Moore, the Chandos Bride

 

Dark Doings in Deepest Berkshire – with Shehanne Moore

 

Catherine Cavendish….. ‘My guest today is historical author Shehanne Moore. I love her books, which combine adventure with feisty characters, humour and a flavour of the Gothic: ‘

 

   “As God is my witness, this property shall ne’er be inherited by two direct successors, for its sons will be hounded by misfortune.” 

                                                                                By Shehanne Moore.

As God is mine I must say I was heartily glad to read the following….

‘Berkshire is a place of mystery, myth and legend. The county abounds with strange tales of ghostly phantoms, ferocious creatures,

kings & knights, witchcraft, treasure and more.’

Why was I glad?

Because it’s never easy coming to the wonderfully chilling blog of Gothic horror writer, Catherine Cavendish. Certainly NOT when you write romance,  even when it’s slightly Gothic romance.  Thank you so very much Cat for inviting me. despite this.  

Not only is my recently re-released book Loving Lady Lazuli set in Berkshire where the heroine has gone to ground – phew- there was a ton of tales to choose from. 

I am glad to hear it. I thought you sort of chewed tails to bits, cut them right down the middle…  So it said online anyway–I mean about Berkshire of course– which was why I was initially drawn to the ‘most haunted’ Shaw House but the most interesting thing there I could find was the true story of how the Duke of Chandos took as his wife, a beautiful chambermaid who was being sold off by her husband in an inn yard with a halter round her neck.   (Something you hamsters dudes should try for size.)

Not just shades of Thomas Hardy’s, The Hamster…00OPS… Mayor of Casterbridge but proof that the business of dukes marrying what might be construed as women a universe  below their social status….as happens in Lazuli and Splendor and indeed in a hell of a lot of historical romance… is not as daft as all that.

 Moving on though, through covens of witches and headless men, I came to the story of Bisham Abbey…I guess apposite again as Barwych Hall in the book is based on Mount Grace Priory in Yorkshire.  However, the Bisham monks were so furious at Henry VIII for ‘dissolving them,’

 

they cursed the ancient building.  

And indeed…as in another follow through from the book, sort of anyway…the sons of Bisham’s many different owners didn’t just fall down dead, they were beheaded, they died young, they were killed in world wars—and, as in the case of young William Hoby, they had some help from their mama. In this case, the widowed Lady Elizabeth who had such high standards of education,  she not only beat young William to bits and locked him in the Tower Room to do his lessons all over again, she quite forgot, despite being so brilliant herself, that she’d done it, clearing off to Windsor for several days of dancing and banqueting. A very merry widow to all accounts.  After all, weren’t there servants for tiresome things like children after all? Hamsters too……

At least Lady Elizabeth thought so, so she was really quite astonished on returning home to find that everyone thought William was with her…. 

I think we all know what’s coming next.

But did William exist at all? There’s documented evidence for Anne, the Chandos’ chambermaid bride. But William? 

Well, firstly the fact that there’s no genealogical evidence to show he did exist, doesn’t always mean a thing. Not all records survive.  And the Hobys had other estates where his birth could have been recorded. 

“Proof” of William’s existence is sort of provided by the discovery in 1840, during renovations, of copy books containing blots on every page, corrections

by the ‘wicked lady‘ herself and the name, William Hoby. Alas, I say ‘sort of’ because these copy books sort of then disappeared. Maybe Lady Hoby stole them…? A bit like my jewel thieves in the book. 

However 1840 was the point where the son first became known as William. Till then he’d just been a nameless son, like you get these nameless, headless hamsters….oops, horsemen. Lady Hoby did indeed have a son…Francis…who died young in unknown circumstances, at the time she had remarried and her surname was then Russell. 

You pays your money you takes your chances, I’d say on truth and legend mixing to become one…or the other.

Whether or not Lady Hoby caused her son’s death as said,  the Abbey is known to be one of the most haunted houses in Britain, certainly the most haunted in Berkshire and that haunting is done by her apparently grief-stricken self, dressed in black lace and white, washing her hands  a la  Lady Macbeth.  

She tears curtains, throws things. But mostly she just sobs and leaves lights up in the Tower Room.. a bit like Silv in the purple hat there.  Some people think she causes the mists that wreath the Abbey and until 1936 she especially liked to come out for coronations.  

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little venture to the darker side and won’t be afraid to visit the Abbey… 

Talking ghosts… here’s the blurb for Loving Lady Lazuli.

  A woman not even the ghost of Sapphire can haunt. A man who knows exactly who she is.

Only one man in England can identify her. Unfortunately he’s living next door.

Ten years ago sixteen year old Sapphire, the greatest jewel thief England has ever known, ruined Lord Devorlane Hawley’s life by planting a stolen necklace on him.  Now she’s dead and buried, all Cassidy Armstrong wants is the chance to prove she was never that girl. 

But her new neighbor is hell-bent on revenge and his word can bring her down. So when he asks her to be his mistress, or leave the county with a price on her head, Sapphire, who hates being owned, must decide…  

What’s left for a woman with nowhere else to go, but to stay exactly where she is?

And hope, that when it comes to neighbors Devorlane Hawley won’t prove to be the one from hell.

And here’s a snippet from the bit where a past ‘ghost’, Gil,  turns up unexpectedly and proceeds to ‘haunt’ the supposedly dead and buried, Cassidy— further than she’s just been haunted this evening already.

Hastily she tugged a shawl round her shoulders—the first thing to take care of was the fact she faced him half naked, with her undergarments on the floor. Silk ones.

“So? What do you want?”

Apart from staring at her drawers and corset? Well, he was welcome. It was all he was going to get to do with them–whatever else happened here, whatever he’d said. Maybe she wasn’t going to be able to dominate this situation with them on the floor, as much as she’d like, maybe her options were as numerous as one-legged chickens, gathering the garments up would show she knew it.

“Nice that.” He dragged his gaze from her corset. “What did you just say?”

“What do you want?”

“Hmm.” He screwed up his face, stuck his thumbs in his waistcoat pocket, looked at the ceiling. “Well now, to quote Hamlet, by that fellow, what’s his name again, William Shakespeare and all that, that is the question. Whether it’s to suffer the there them slings of outrageous fortune, or, you know, take up arms and all them things what you take up, and do what you can, to actually end this protracted situation what you is in. Or is it, the them there stings of outrageous fortune? You know, I can’t remember. But, see, what I am hoping is that I ain’t going to have to end them. Thinking how awful that would be for certain for those concerned, see? You get a big soddin’ arrow sticking in your—”

“Jesus, Cass.”

“Evenin’ Rube.” He sniffed loudly. “Hope it’s a good ‘un.”

“It soddin’ was till yer soddin’ showed yer soddin’ ugly face.”

“Hmm.” He strolled around the copper tub, sniffing the stone cold suds. “Personally I think ugly sodding face is what you might call a better arrangement of the words. See, it has what you might call, a more them there poetic ring to it.”

“The only soddin’ thing I’d like to ring is—”

“Hmm. Well … Sure you ain’t alone there. Still, not to put too fine a point on it, not just you here, Rube, to bid a good and wondrous-to-behold, evening to. Pearl, Sapphire, jewels of the Orient. Here, don’t you think this is just like them olden days what we did have together, them happy times in … what was the name of that place again … Lanthorne Street?”

 

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com paperback

Amazon.co.uk paperback

Black Wolf Books. – Kara imprint

When good feelings extend to rascals and poetry.

Tags

poems, Reviews, Robbie Cheadle, Sir Chocolate, The Unravelling of Lady Fury, The Viking and The Courtesan, Witless Dating After Fifty

http://bit.ly/2yCqT2D

I give myself very good advice … https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/2017/10/01/i-give-myself-very-good-advice/

 

Same picture, “take one!”

Two posts, just like twins.

Do you remember one of

Shehanne Moore’s themes

is attraction to scoundrels,

who underneath their rakish,

handsome appearance is a warm heart?

While I had Shehanne’s books here

in my apartment, somehow the

incredible rascals got in

through crack under

the door. . .

I bet these baby hamsters would

melt even a Viking or a Pirate’s

cold, cutthroat heart.

I reviewed the following books

by Shehanne Moore:

~ “The Viking and the Courtesan”

~ “The Unraveling of Lady Fury”

Should Shehanne be responsible

for progeny who developed

without her knowledge

nor her consent?

I’ve been circling back to

the summer book series,

meanwhile a new book has

been written and published by

a few of our fellow writing bloggers.

Here’s more of fascinating

Shehanne Moore’s

choices:

“Loving Lady Lazuli,”

(London Jewel Thieves, Book 1)

“Splendor,”

(London Jewel Thieves, Book 2)

“His Judas Bride”

“The Writer and the Rake”

Find Shehanne at:

https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com

So, do you know any solutions

for mhttps://witlessdatingafterfifty.wordpress.com/2017/09/29/shehannes-mischievous-hamstahs-juniors/y Hamsters Invasion?

Same picture, “take two!” 😎

Many titillating scandals are

fully intended to lead to love.

Should shenanigans transpire. . .

Let the romance begin!

“Hamstahs” at Shehanne Moore’s

blog are fabulous, truly fashionable.

Have you seen their hats?

👒 🎓 ⛑ 🎩

I admire them, lest I turn my back

accidentally! You need to stay on your

toes with ’em rascals.

They may

decide as the famous singer so

aptly suggested to, “Get it on,” in

the glass box you purchased.

 

It was going to be a terrarium!

Succulent plants, not critter

babies were going to add

to my oxygen supply.

I think you’ll remember her

Lady Fury and Lady Malice

from your reading the books

I recommended this summer.

I’m hoping other strong,

demanding and exciting women

characters have inhabited your mind.

Shehanne’s books are already

part of your favorites. Of course,

the good feelings may extend

to men in those thrilling

and romantic novels.

Have you seen the way

Ms. Moore allows

her hamsters to

interview

famous

authors?

https://witlessdatingafterfifty.wordpress.com/2017/09/29/someone-left-their-hamstahs-shehanne/

Interview with a ferret and a Miranda Sings award

Tags

A Miranda Sings award, Etopia Press, London Jewel thieves, Regency, Sally G Cronin, Shehanne Moore, Splendor, The Starkadder Sisterhood

 

AWARD: The Miranda Sings Award – A chance to say I Love Me! https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2017/09/24/award-the-miranda-sings-award-a-chance-to-say-i-love-me/

Here are the rules of the award...

• Announce your win with a post, and link the blogger who nominated you.
• Include the featured image on your blog post.
• Nominate 10 bloggers (or as many as you can think of) and link your awardees in the post.
• List 7 things you love about yourself. (This can be about your appearance, your personality, your achievements, etc.)

Rules

Don’t use negative connotation (i.e. Don’t say things like – “I’m prettier than an average person.” or “People have told me I’m smart.” You are pretty. You are smart.)

 

Mrs Ferret:    Beggin’ your pardon your  furryship creatures an’ meanin’ to give no affront. or that, but I thought it was seven things about me?

 

Mrs Ferret  : Well, I must say, again meanin’ no disrespect,  it’s not whot was agreed.

Mrs Ferret     :  You won’t be doin’ no Cossack dance, nor drinkin’ no vodka here.  Beggin’ your pardons and meanin’ no affront or that, not unless you wants ter meet with me broom handle and be swept out into the doostbin you won’t.  And you won’t be bullyin’ me like you did that artist hero of Shehanne’s whot came here and never got a word in yet. Now then . Three things about me that I like.

1. Well, contrary to the many words what are spoke about me 

I’m secretly very soft hearted, soft-hearted as any can be whot has been left ter fend for themselves in a bitter,  hard, cruel world, one step away from the workhouse at sixteen with a sister and young brothers ter support. You can ask Splendor herself about me soft heart.  But I got a good nose for sniffin’ out whot people are inside. I can always recognise another servant and I will look out for them. I just won’t be taken a loan of is all. But if I see someone needin’ a helpin’ hand, well, I think I can be counted on.

2  I love that I like people, people whot are interesting. Them that might have secrets. But I aon’t no gossip.  The things I could have told Stillmore about his ‘wife’ and her friend–cos, meanin’ no affront but I reads the newspapers and I knows about that Sisterhood lot. But I never. As for the goings on of him at Catterton whenever he deigned to visit …..

  I was discreet. As for me figuring out they wasn’t really married, he must have thought I stitched up the back of me mob cap.

3 I know I may only be a servant but I am very good at me job, unlike some I could name whot drinks on the job, I see everything runs like clockwork whotever house I am in, Catterton,

or His Grace’s place in London.  That’s because I take pride in knowing whot people want. Of course, meanin’ no affront and provided anyone would have had me. it would have been nice to have had me family roundabout me and a man to love me, but families require keepin’ and it really isn’t easy for women of my social class that way, as I found out when my husband left me. 

Thank you very much for letting me come by and get  a word in.

 I am going to give  you with the names of some bloggers. It would be more but Sallly has already bestowed the award on many whot come here and might like doing this kind of thing. Not everyone accepts awards. Though if YOU would like doing this, please do feel free. Meaning no disrespect but that you’re not here is probably on account of Shehanne not having time to look all the links up.

.

Catherine Cavendish http://t.co/NekQqtJiEc

Purva Narang.  https://t.co/WUn4iLM0b3

Jean Lee  –

Explore Jean Lee’s World

Sarah Potter http://sarahpotterwrites.wordpress.com/

Annika Perry http://annikaperry.wordpress.com/

Leslie Noyez http://www.nananoyz5forme.com/

Aquileana  http://aquileana.wordpress.com/

Christy Birmingham https://whenwomeninspire.com/

Extract…Mrs Ferret first raises her lovely head  

“This is Mrs. Ferret.”

So Splendor’s death hadn’t happened. Instead, the front door had swung open, because there weren’t any rugs on the flagstone floor to stop it. Splendor thought that was why the door didn’t just swing open, it almost removed itself from its hinges and careered across said floor. Before she was anywhere near it, which was not always the case. Penetrating cold blew out, not in. The sun hadn’t just gone behind a cloud on a nice day, Arctic winter had followed.

Ferret was an unfortunate name. The woman herself had the appearance of having dropped a guinea and found a farthing. Some people were so devoid of the desire to better themselves that they dressed in pinched black to match their expressions. Splendor’s desire was to show his majesty how unfazed she was by this rapid and unprovoked downturn in events. London and Babs Langley. She fixed a smile on her face. Her best.

“You will pardon me, Your Grace, openin’ door in advance of you ringin’.” Mrs. Ferret ignored the smile and her. “But Bates told me you was here. And had brought company. Young ladies.”

Was it a crime to be one? Splendor had never thought so before. But the look Mrs. Ferret failed to cast her said her education was sadly lacking that way.

“Yes.” Stillmore strode over the stone threshold into the pale white hall. “My wife and her friend.”

“Wife? Wife?” Mrs. Ferret’s voice rose. “Mr. Bates never said nothing about no wife.”

Stillmore stared at the ceiling. “Perhaps because he’s not married to her. Well. It happened, whether Bates said so or not. If I say she is, it should be good enough.”

Splendor swung her gaze around. “You mean, you take my getting out that cart as assent—?”

“Oh, sir, I never meant…” Mrs. Ferret interrupted. “Oh bless me no. I mean, I wouldn’t, bein’ mindful of me position here’n all, dream of offerin’ an affront. Excuse me, Your Grace.”

Mrs. Ferret touched a feeble hand to her breast, as if she wouldn’t take issue with him arriving on the doorstep with a two-headed hamster and saying he’d married it.

“Will I just show her downstairs, same as usual, Your Grace?”

“I will do that. Thank you.”

As usual? Splendor turned her gaze back, swallowed the hot tide that rose. Thank God in some ways. Remove this old bat from the equation and Catterton House might have her otherwise. From the outside it looked like a two-roomed cottage with a tower that stood like a sentinel. Inside though, it was a completely different fish. A whitewashed palace, with steps leading down to other levels that were set into the steeply dropping cliffside. It would be private here. The kind of place Topaz would be safe. The kind of place they could both hide.

Not if it was home to his women. Not when she’d thought London.

“But, of course, Your Lordship Grace.” Mrs. Ferret curtseyed so low it was a miracle she didn’t keel over on the flagstone floor. “And what about the other…lady, sir? Will she just be left sitting out there in the cart, while you…you know?”

“Yes. No. I… I mean…” Splendor burst out before she could stop herself.

“Not at all,” Stillmore said. “She will be coming in here. But would you have a problem with that, Mrs. Ferret?”

“No, Your Grace. All I were doing was asking.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Fine then I won’t. I’ll just go tell Bates to start peeling the vegetables for lunch. A light one will it be, Your Grace? Or do your guests require stuffing?”

---

The only thing he hates more than losing at chess is marriage…

 For Splendor, former servant to the London’s premiere jewel thieves, the Starkadder Sisterhoiod, pretending to be someone else is all in a day’s work. So when she learns of a chess tournament—a men’s chess tournament—with a ten thousand pound prize, pretending to be a man is the obvious move. The money will be enough to set her fiancé up in his own business so they can finally marry, and more importantly, it’ll pay off her bills and keep her out of debtor’s prison. But she doesn’t plan on her opponent, the rakish Kendall Winterborne, Earl Stillmore, being a sore loser—and a drunken one, at that. But before she can collect her prize, she finds herself facing the most merciless man in London across a pair of dueling pistols at dawn. Chess may be Splendor’s game, but she’s never fired a pistol. And dressed as a man with ill-fitting shoes on the slippery grass and borrowed glasses that make it hard to see, she’s certain she’s finally tipped her own king.

 Bitter divorcee Kendall Winterborne, Earl Stillmore, is the ton’s most ruthless heartbreaker. And he’s got three pet peeves: kitchen maids, marriage…and losing. So when he realizes the “man” opposite him has entered the chess tournament under false pretenses, he’s in the perfect position to extort the little chit. But that’s before the exasperating woman begins to slip beneath his skin, and soon all he can think about is slipping beneath her skirts. But the confounded woman is engaged to someone else, and worse—she’s nothing but a former kitchen maid, just like the one that lured his father into the marriage that ruined the family name. And his ex-wife taught him more than he cared to know about why marriage was the worst kind of checkmate of all…

 

The Time Mutants’ Guide to Time Travel with Paul Andruss

Tags

Jack Hughes Books, Paul Andruss, Regency, sci-fi, The Viking and The Courtesan, The Writer and the Rake, Thomas the Rhymer, TIme Mutants, Time Travelling Dynasty, Time-travel

 

The Mutants Guide to Time Travel  by Paul Andruss.

Please… settle down.

If you let me talk, everything will be explained.

I know this is unsettling.

But it is not your first unsettling experience, is it?

 

That got your attention!

 

Many of you fear you are going mad or perhaps caught in some nightmare; which is unsurprising after your recurring vivid dreams and the recent dislocation experience.

You are frightened and alone. Let me assure you. You are not alone. We have all been through the same thing: because each of us is related.

I see you looking at the different styles in the room, clothes, hair, cosmetics, and wondering if I joke. You think you know your family: parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins. You were brought up to view family as those around you. You do not to think in terms of deep time: about generations past and those to come. But you will learn. Believe me.

Why am I here? You want to ask.

We all carry a double recessive gene from our common ancestress that makes us time travelling mutants.

Oh dear! How to put this simply?

Genes are what make you look like your parents or grandparents. If grandparents, you may have been told it skipped a generation: this is a recessive gene. Over centuries, families separate. Generations later, distant relatives meet and fall in love. When this happens often enough, you are the result.

Our common ancestress lived in the early 21st century. Her name was Brittany Carter. She wrote romantic fiction distinguished by the fact her heroines time travel: her granddaughter to the Viking age and another, in a thinly veiled autobiography, to the 18th century.

I know many of you read her classic novels when studying English Literature, and perhaps experienced a thrill of recognition in their pages. No doubt you were taught they were written by that literary giant Shehanne Moore. A pleasant fiction I am afraid. Brittany Carter wrote these works. Shehanne Moore was merely her nom-de-plume. A ruse used at the insistence of her publishers.

But time travel I hear you protest, surely you need a machine like the fabulous TARDIS of legend, or perhaps a sacred circle of standing-stones to concentrate the Gaia force. Not at all! Our research at the Institute, shows time travel is simple. It is caused by the relatively common ability of psychokinesis: the power to move objects with the mind.

Historical records show many of you experienced poltergeist activity when you hit puberty. Would it shock you to learn poltergeist activity is in fact involuntary outburst of psychokinetic energy, brought on by hormonal changes? As you grew older you no doubt noticed the violent outbursts subsided.

About the same time lucid dreams began. Lucid dreams are a psychological term for vivid dream states where your conscious mind remains aware making it seem you are actually experiencing the dream as reality. If it seems so, it is because you are.

Such dreams are a psychokinetic by-product; a telepathic bond with your ancestors and descendants. It is widely known Brittany Carter wrote about her granddaughter, Malice, under the influence of such dreams. This is why we time travel during moments of heightened sensation, usually, but not exclusively, during sexual arousal.

At this point I need to tell you everything you understand about time is wrong. From an early age you were taught to view time as a progression of events paralleling birth, growth and gradual decline towards death.

Here are some ancient flick-books, please take one and pass the rest on. See how each photograph, taken exactly a year apart, shows the person moving from birth to death at a fixed rate.

 Normally we do not question this.

But think for a moment, even identical twins do not die at exactly the same time. Age is relative. It depends on a series of complex interactions governed by genes and environment.

In the 20th century the oldest person on the planet died at the age of 140 – which is nothing now; while children with the disease progeria died of advanced old age when no more than ten. Some individual cells, like cancer, never die. Others can be indefinitely held in suspension, such as the 5,000 year old seed from a Chinese tomb that grew into a magnolia tree when planted by archaeologists.

Aging is not due to minutes flowing into hours; days into years.

Aging is not time travel. The minutes and hours of your life merely mark the earth’s revolution on its axis and the year its orbit around the sun. Even a light year is a measure of distance, 5.9 trillion miles to be exact.

Stephen King claimed time particles, or chronons, were formed by the past colliding with the present and evaporated when the present dissolved into the future. Michael Moorcock agreed. Moorcock envisaged humans, called Time Dwellers, evolving to live permanently within a single moment. For Moorcock the only answer to the question: ‘What is the time?’ was ‘The present’.

Einstein, the father of science, did not believe in time. He said it was nothing other than a measurement of space like height, width and depth. To him we were no more capable of seeing the bigger picture than a word printed on the page can read the novel it belongs to. Like fish in a barrel we cannot see or understand the world outside, never mind swim in it. He explained it thus:

If a fish swims in a tank at 4 miles per hour, inside an airplane travelling at 500 mph, that is flying across the earth rotating at 1,000 mph at the equator, and orbiting around the sun at 68,400 mph, in a solar system spiralling around the Milky Way at 515,000 mph, in a universe expanding at 158,000 mph. How fast is the fish swimming? The answer is 4 miles per hour. That’s relativity.

If we stepped outside relativity, we would see the past, present and future happening concurrently. It would be like looking at a road from a hilltop. This is how Brittany saw her granddaughter’s life 800 years in the past.

You must understand atoms are not like specks of dust. They are infinitesimal amounts of electrical energy clustered into a nucleus of protons and neutrons and orbited by electrons. If the nucleus was the size of a tennis ball, the atom itself would be four miles across. This means most of the universe is empty space.

The universe expands in every direction at approximately 158,000 mph; as does every atom in it. Think of drawing two circles on a balloon then blowing it up. The bigger the balloon gets the more distant the circles become and the bigger they get.

If we could compact or expand an atom, it would automatically shift to the point when the universe was at the same density. In other words it would time travel.

The electro-magnetic force holding the universe together is the same as Gaia, the life force within every living creature. Outbursts of psychokinetic energy are measurable electric currents. This is how we time travel. Psychokinetic outbursts cause our atoms to contract or expand, hurling us through time.

The final question I am asked in this introductory session is: Am I immortal?

Yes and no.

Remember Michael Moorcock’s Time Dwellers living within a single moment? Like them we can dwell in a single moment of time and so do not age. But in that case, how did Brittany and Malice manage to live with their lovers?

That is relativity. As we cannot exist outside our immediate space-time environment, we take it with us, like a deep-sea diving suit. It is perhaps no more than an atom’s thickness but enough to keep us safe.

If you would care to get to know each other and work out your complex and often confusing relationships, there are refreshments next door. However, before you leave let me assure you, my fellow time-travelling mutants, you have long and interesting lives ahead of you, and many difficult skills to master. But master them you will. For we already know your future.

 

http://www.paul-andruss.com/
http://bit.ly/2wxqs9H

Paul Andruss is the author of 2 contrasting fantasy novels

Wanting to engage readers and build an audience 2 novels are available as free downloads in different E-books formats.

Thomas the Rhymer – a magical fantasy for ages 11 to adult about a boy attempting to save fairy Thomas the Rhymer, while trying to rescue his brother from a selfish fairy queen.

If you enjoy the Harry Potter & Narnia books & films? Thomas the Rhymer is right up your street

Thomas the Rhymer is the 1st of a trilogy.

 

Finn Mac Cool – rude, crude and funny, explicitly sexual and disturbingly violent, Finn Mac Cool is strictly for adults only

Finn mac Cool is a modern retelling of the Irish Myth cycles with a science fantasy edge.

Finn Mac Cool is a must for those with Irish ancestry or anyone interested in Irish legends and folklore. Ever since being a child Paul was fascinated by the phantasmagorical and strange. Blessed with the type of mind that squirrels away peculiar facts, he  supposed it was only natural these should become a central feature in his novels.

As Paul got older he often forgot where he found these oddities in the first place. Odds and Sods: A cabinet of Curiosities was born as an on-line notepad and sort of grew from there. Now it showcases the curious stuff he’s  come across when researching his novels. He also get a tremendous kick from sharing it with friends.

The blog includes stories from science, history, myth, miracles, occult objects & fabulous beasts.  Sample Posts:  History – Bonfire of the Vanities / Myth – Philemon & Baucis / Miracles – The Lady at Lourdes / Occult Objects – The Turin Shroud/ Fabulous Beasts – The Horse Cock / Science – Alma (Are Neanderthals still alive?)

Paul  is a guest Writer in Residence on ‘Smorgasbord- Variety is the Spice of Life’ where you can enjoy exclusive extra articles: Still Waving – the poet Stevie Smith / Marc Bolan’s Millions / Who were the Proto-Indo-Europeans? / The Truth of the Cottingley Fairies / Venus in Furs & Justine in Tears- De Sade & Masoch / Rosabelle Believe – Did Houdini return from the dead?

Why don’t you subscribe to both?