WHAM! First Ever FREE BOOK Promo 2/28/19 – 3/04/19

FREE for the FIRST TIME EVER and the ONLY TIME this year. WHAM! Timewalker Book 1  getbook.at/WHAM  2/28/19 – 2/04/19.

 

They took her world. They took her family. They said it was for the greater good.

They lied… 

From husband and wife writing team, Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps, WHAM is an imaginative and original dystopian fantasy where technology and magic stand side by side. 

“Rarely have I seen fantasy and science fiction married so successfully.” 

When Children and Family Assistance police drag her mom, her dad and her beautiful sister out the door into the night and beat her senseless, Tess Greenwood finds herself alone, her every move watched by the hidden World Alliance. Almost blind after her beating, she flees to the forbidden Broadstreet compound and a troll named Maxi.

So begins Tess’s journey from quiet teen at home to fierce young woman, determined to get back her family any way she can. Even if she must travel time itself. 

But time is one thing she has little of. Those arrested in the night seldom live for long, and beautiful young women are destined to become toys for the elite.

Frantic, Tess tries to pull herself together to save her loved ones and her world… and the clock is ticking.

Get your copy and enter the world of the Timewalkers.

“At first, I thought this was your typical dystopian story, but I quickly learned it is so much more. Layer upon layer was peeled back as I read, revealing themes of corruption, power, and greed as well as familial love and loyalty that spans the ages.”

DOWNLOAD YOUR COPY! 

Recently Tom and I woke up to this in my email:

CONGRATULATIONS! – 2018 Fifth Annual New Apple Book Awards for Excellence in Independent Publishing

Your book ‘WHAM! Timewalker Book 1‘ was chosen as an “Official Selection” in the YA FANTASY category of our Fifth Annual Indie Book Awards! 

We are excited and most honored to have been chosen for this award.

COMING SOON: WHAM! Audio Book

LISTEN to the beautiful voice of SKY WILDMIST as she reads TIME DOES NOT EXIST, the intro to WHAM!

Time does not Exist

multiverse

My how time flies. Isn’t it something how twenty years ago seems like only yesterday, yet back when you were four, a summer lasted for a small eternity? Not only have we all heard this sort of thing, but every last one of us experiences time exactly this way. Meanwhile, we have the clock ticking away at exactly the same rate today that it ticked forty years ago. The reason that this can happen is because there is no real time which exists in nature at all. And since it doesn’t exist, there is no way one could ever run it backwards, change its rate or travel in it.

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All that happens in nature is the progressive occurrence of natural phenomena. Cells divide at the speed which they happen to divide, the granite cliff face crumbles onto the talus pile below as fast as it crumbles, and the earth rotates on and on, independent of any sort of time.

Time is our abstraction. We invented it, just as we came up with the inch and the foot and the mile. We began keeping track of the earth’s rotations and invented time based upon a rotation’s subdivision, hours at first with sundials, then minutes, once we had managed a reliable clock escapement and eventually nanoseconds. As soon as we had invented these hour and second pieces of a rotation of the earth, we could measure the duration of all sorts of things in terms of them.

And from beginning to end, we remain biological beings. We do not innately look at things from the perspective of a ticking mechanism. Events fly by more as we get older simply because our only natural way of sensing them is by contrasting their duration with how long our life has been so far. A summer for a four year old is a far more noticeable percentage of his life than it is of the life of an eighty year old.

stock-footage-a-network-tunnel-computer-generated-animation-seconds

There is indeed a progression of natural events that we are swept along with. And we can call this progression “time” if we must, but our label gives us no mastery at all. We only progress at the rate nature allows. We might someday leap into space faster than light and turn about to see earlier events brought to us by the light we outran, but this is not time travel. We are only fooling ourselves. If we are ever to go rollicking about in the distant past or future, we shall simply have to use magic.

Tom Phipps

Listen to Time Does Not Exist as read by Sky Wildmist:

 

Welcome to the “ACE CARROWAY AND THE BLOG MONSTER” Blog Tour! @GuyWorthey #4WillsPub #RRBC

Greetings one and all, and a hearty thank-you to my kind host and 4 Wills Publishing!

Please be sure to leave a comment below for your chance to win one of the following prizes:
-(3) Kindle ebooks – Winner’s choice (US residents only)
-(1) $10 Amazon gift card (US residents only) or $10 (via PayPal for non-US residents)

In this first blog tour stop, I’d like to introduce myself and the Ace Carroway series. It’s no use railing against the inevitable. It’s got to be done or else people will be lost. Here to help me is my fake interviewer, Mr. Bigg Faquir, abbreviated herein as “FAQ.” He looks a little bit like Boris Karloff in a turban.

GW: Greetings, Mr. Faquir.

FAQ: Tell us little bit about yourself.

GW: I’m a bloke. He/him. I live in the dry part of Washington State.

FAQ: That’s it? That’s the “elevator pitch?” You’re not very good at back-cover blurbs, I take it.

GW: Terrible.

FAQ: …

GW: All right, I’ll try harder. I’m a professor of astrophysics at Washington State University, specializing in galaxy evolution, especially the creation and distribution of the various chemical elements.

FAQ: …

GW: …

FAQ: Moving on, then. Do you have any training as a writer?

GW: Nope! Just what I gleaned in school to start. In my day job I write a lot, but it’s technical writing. As soon as I started contemplating publishing fiction for general consumption, I had to learn a huge amount in a short time. I joined several writer’s groups, bought self-help books, and found a couple of support groups online. It’s a good thing I like learning, because creative writing and technical writing are worlds apart.

FAQ: House?

GW: Gryffindor. Subcategory Neville Longbottom, of course.

FAQ: Naturally. What are your books about? Ace sounds like a card in a poker game more than astrophysics.

GW: Cecilia “Ace” Carroway has a sense of humor, but she’s not really a card. She is an actual Ace, though, in the sense of having downed more than five enemy planes in the Great War. She’s a very well-educated young woman, clearly destined to be a hero. The books are about the adventures of Ace Carroway and her five associates as they travel the world, solving mysteries and fighting crime.

FAQ: The way you said that, it sounds a little corny.

GW: It’s pulp fiction, or at least has that flavor. Think wild plots with exaggerated characters. It’s written for teens, so it’s clean, but I’m finding that older readers appreciate a fast, clean read, too.

FAQ: What’s the setting?

GW: 1920s. But it’s not quite the earth we know. It’s altered from true history. It’s got airships, undiscovered lands, and the status of women is a little higher than the actual.

FAQ: How many books are out?

GW: Three.

FAQ: More on the way?

GW: I’ve drafted seven. Erm. They’re short.

FAQ: Good grief. When do you find time to do all that?

GW: That’s seasonally dependent and day job dependent. The short answer is, for the most part, the hour or two before I go to bed. Editing takes a lot longer than writing the first draft. The turtle wins the race, as they say.

FAQ: Is seven the end? When are you going to stop?

GW: Well, the story arc, such as it is, wraps up in about ten. I’ll evaluate whether to write more after Darko Dor gets some comeuppance.

FAQ: Darko Dor is a character? List your characters.

GW: Stick with me through the week. The remainder of the blog tour is a tour of the characters. One character per day.

FAQ: Is it time for the limerick, yet?

GW: Yes. Each stop on the tour concludes with a limerick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A limerick!

 

Ace and her crew never shrink

From danger, and never rethink

The rash high speed chase

Or risky crime case.

Their motto could be “never blink.”

 

 

 

 

 

Join Ace Carroway and her motley gang of associates as they travel the world, solving mysteries and fighting crime.

In ACE CARROWAY and the GREAT WAR, sixteen-year-old Cecilia Carroway lies about her age and joins the war effort as a pilot. She earns her Ace nickname over France, but is forced down behind enemy lines. Escape plans are imperiled when Ace catches the attention of imperial minister Darko Dor.

Three years later, in ACE CARROWAY AROUND THE WORLD, Ace’s father dies in a hail of bullets in quiet Hyannis, Cape Cod. Lieutenant Drew Lucy is on the case, but it’s Ace Carroway at the top of his list of suspects.

In ACE CARROWAY and the HANDSOME DEVIL, Ace barely survives an assassination attempt at the hands of her old nemesis Darko Dor. Figuring the best defense is offense, she starts a detective agency in New York. Before the paint on the door dries, a new web of deception ensnares the rookie sleuths. Sudden romantic attention from a pair of handsome strangers is good, right?

The Adventures of Ace Carroway are available at many fine stores around the world.

Links #1 Great War #2 Around the World #3 Handsome Devil
Paperback Paperback Paperback Paperback
Kindle Kindle Kindle Kindle
Nook, Kobo, Apple, 24 Symbols, Playster, Scribd, Angus & Robertson Ebook $1.99 Others Others

Wyoming native Guy Worthey traded spurs and lassos for telescopes and computers when he decided on astrophysics for a day job. Whenever he temporarily escapes the gravitational pull of stars and galaxies, he writes fiction. He lives in Washington state with his violinist wife Diane. He likes cats and dogs and plays keyboards and bass guitar. His favorite food is called creamed eggs on toast, but once in a while he heeds the siren song of chocolate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author’s tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site.  If you’d like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.

Welcome to the SEASONS Blog Tour @ErnestineRose25 #4WillsPub #RRBC

 

Reflection

 

There I was, just minding my own business

Doing all the things I thought I was supposed to do.

I ate fruits and vegetables,

Even juiced and detoxed sometimes.

I exercised.

Four laps around the lake, or three miles on the treadmill

To no avail.

And every summer I went to the clinic

So that cold machine

Could squish my ninnies

In unfathomable pain.

You know it, the mammogram slam.

So relieved when it let go

And I could breathe again.

 

I gave up everything

That was supposed to be a threat:

Microwave popcorn,

Barbecue on the grill,

Even bologna sandwiches.

I sold my car

So the smog wouldn’t get me.

I gave up my summer tan.

I gave up smoking, too, all kinds,

Paid money for a newer house

Less chance of asbestos poisoning.

I run from gamma rays and alpha particles. I read labels 24/7.

 

But still. . .

On that last check-up,

Some abnormality,

A pattern they couldn’t make out.

“Why me, Lord?” I asked Him.

“Does it run in the family?” he said.

Two aunts, dead, two years apart.

He nodded but didn’t say a word.

So here we are.

“What next?” was my first question.

“Where do we go from here?”

“The usual paths, chemo and surgery.”

“No.” I said, before he could get it all out.

“Early detection is half the fight.”

“No!” I yelled louder this time.

He cocked his head and looked at me strange,

Unaccustomed to being challenged.

 

“No,” I said, softer this time.

“I won’t. I’ve seen what that can do.”

“But your life. . . “

“My life is determined by a Higher Power.

I won’t have it taken from me.

I’ve seen the effects of chemo. . .

Sick. Pain. Wasting away. No energy. No hair.”

“But if it can save your life. . .”

“It can’t. Only He can.”

“Does this mean you’re rejecting treatment?”

No. It means I’m rejecting YOUR treatment.”

And I went home and cried.

 

I thought about it, long and hard.

I don’t want the life or death my aunts had,

Life oozing out of my pores for months.

Unliving life, not living it.

I want to be me.

All of me, preferred,

But most of me if that’s not possible.

Hmph.

I could stand to lose some weight anyway.

And who doesn’t like to shop?

And if he doesn’t love me without them,

He didn’t deserve me in the first place.

So I called the office and made an appointment.

 

He was glad I called.

He started his campaign again.

“The protocol—“

I cut him off.

“The protocol,” I said, “is research.

Find out what’s best for me.

In the meantime, I’ll do my own due diligence.

There are survivors all over the world

Who don’t depend on hospital policies,

Or big drug companies building up their profits.

There are doctors taking chances,

Really trying to find a cure.

So you do your thing, and I’ll do mine.

And if my way doesn’t work,

I’ll meet you in the OR.”

 

So I did. My own research, that is.

Everything from mushrooms to peroxide.

Naturopaths with great track records,

And waiting lists four miles long.

It would take weeks, months even

Just to get in for an exam.

And I didn’t have that kind of time.

And don’t even think about insurance.

What little I had wouldn’t cover experiments,

Not to mention a pre-existing condition.

So I lifted my eyes again and said,

“Why me, Lord?”. And He smiled.

And the words I heard but did not see were

“This will only make you stronger.”

 

So I gathered my strength, my faith,

And my determination to live and go on loving.

I walked to the mirror

And took a good, hard look.

“I’ll miss you guys,” I said to my image.

“We had some great times, you and me.

But the time has come to part our ways.

I want to live.

And I don’t want my life compromised

With worry, pain, or weakness.”

“I want to live!” is the last thing I said

Before counting to ten and I was out.

Not down for the count, but out for the moment.

I’d come to terms with who I am

And who I would become.

Why?

I want. . .

To live!

 

 

 

 

 Ernestine Rose,

                                                                                       October, 2013

 

 

Author Bio:  Ernestine Rose grew up on the west side of Chicago during the turbulent 50’s and 60’s. Adopted by an older couple, she spent a great deal of time as a child reading and participating in dance and drama club activities in school. Bradley University and the University of Dallas prepared her for a successful career as a teacher of English, speech and theater in Peoria and Fort Worth, where she earned numerous educator awards.

As a retired public school teacher and mother of four sons, she made her debut as an author with the publication of three books: 7 Tips for A Successful Marriage, Raising the Roses, and Tales from the Family Tree, all in 2012.  She later produced a romance novel, Monday Morning Blues. Her most recent work reflects her experience as a caretaker and widow, Seasons: My Journey through Grief. Inspired by Toni Morrison and Alice Walker, her focus in both writing and theater is on the power of language, love, and family. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and her website.

 

BONUS!!! The Author is also hosting a giveaway during each day of her blog tour. Simply comment on each stop to be entered. You can win a copy of one of her e-books or even a $10 Amazon Gift Card!! (There will be a total of 13 giveaways!!)

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author’s tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site.  If you’d like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.  Thanks for supporting this author and his work!

 

Welcome to “THE SLEEPING ONE” Blog Tour! @KarlJMorgan #4WillsPub #RRBC

Karl Morgan Bio

With a long career in finance and as author of almost twenty books, I like to say that words and numbers are my life.

I have had a lifelong fascination with stories in the science fiction and fantasy genres, whether it was the Tom Swift novels by Victor Appleton I read as a young boy, or television like Lost in Space and Star Trek. More recently, I have devoured film series like Star Wars, Harry Potter, and Lord of the Rings. That fascination is combined with a keen interest in cosmology, astrophysics, quantum physics, and spirituality.

That quirky combination along with the fantasy genre allows me to craft stories that reinforce the importance of family, friendship, and love. The protagonists must overcome incredible danger and challenges to survive their journeys, but eventually end up on top. It goes without saying that as a finance guy, my life has been less action-packed than my characters (thank goodness).

With Carl Prescott and The Sleeping One, I ventured back to comfortable territory. Many of my stories reinforce our direct connection to the Divine. While that is an element of this story, the sequels feature that relationship to a much greater extent. That element in my stories is an homage to what I believe really matters in this life.

I am the son of an Air Force pilot and as such, I have lived in many places, never for more than four years at a time. Thankfully, as an adult, I have lived in Chula Vista, CA for the past thirty-seven years. I met and married Aida, the love of my life, thirty years ago. Our grown children have made us grandparents four times over. It is a blessing to be around such wonderful parents and children.

My new goal is life is my stories. I hope you can follow me on this new adventure.

Character Interview- Professor Bertrand Aloysius Thorndike VII

KM- Professor, thank you for taking the time to talk today.

BAT- I am happy to be here. Please call me Bert.

KM- Thank you, Bert. Your family plays a major role in this book. Tell us about the school’s founder after whom you are named.

BAT- It is difficult to know much about one’s five times great grandfather. He did found this version of the school, but it was not the first or last. Before the end of the first millennium, spiritual education was quite normal and schools were plentiful. Around the time my ancestor was born, the Catholic Church began to eradicate those schools by linking them to Satan. The Church wanted to be seen as the sole arbiter of religious education. It is recorded that my ancestor was also the first verified holder of the Invisible Hand talent in more than a thousand years. Shortly thereafter, the school he attended was burned to the ground. The survivors started this school on an island that is now part of the nation of Denmark, out of the way of prying eyes and zealous priests.

KM- Did most of the students and faculty move too?

BAT- That is impossible to know. Obviously, enough did to reconstitute a school.

KM- The school in now in the Azores. When did that happen?

BAT- Around 1500AD. The island off mainland Denmark was not suitable for a growing institution. As well, their neighbors were not happy with the settlement of what they considered witches and wizards so close to their homes. Eventually, a small island in the mid-Atlantic became our home. Other than the few workers who help at the institution, we are invisible to the outside world.

KM- You son is heavily featured in this book and series in general. What would you like to say about him?

BAT- First, since so many have the same name, we tend to use the number instead. One Bert talking about his father Bert or son Bert would be confusing. I am afraid that in this tale, Eight is not a good son. I hope one day you can tell his full story.

KM- Yes, that is highlighted in book three.

BAT- Thank you. Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances for which I take full responsibility, my son left Thorndike to join the Masterson Academy. As you know, there has always been animosity between the two schools. Let us say that feeling is on full display throughout this story. As well, there is something wrong at Masterson these days. The hatred between the two schools is worse than ever before, well, for a least a few centuries. I just cannot put my finger on the cause. It seems most sinister.

KM- That is certainly true. Hopefully, Carl Prescott and his friends help resolve it.

BAT- Perhaps, but this resentment among the schools is older than time. There are always those who choose to use their gifts for self-gratification and gain. I am not certain a few new students can ever change that.

KM- You could be right, Bert. Before we close, do you have any questions for me?

BAT- Yes I do. As you know, I am over one hundred years old. Do you plan to retire me soon? I wouldn’t mind, you know. Perhaps I could retire on the other island where my grandchildren live?

KM- Perhaps one day, Bert. You continue to play a pivotal role in books two and three. I think the presence of seasoned adults like you, Alistair, and Alex are needed to keep the students moving in the right direction.

BAT- That’s totally fair. Thank you for inviting me.

 

Karl Morgan Social Media and Contact Links:

Book on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07L7HHNB3

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/karlmorganauthor

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Karl-Morgan/e/B00A57RWPO

Website/Blog: http://www.karljmorgan.com

Twitter handle: @karljmorgan

 

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author’s tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site.  If you’d like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.

Welcome to the “HELP FOR GRANDPARENTS RAISING GRANDKIDS” Blog Tour! @Healthmn1 #4WillsPub #RRBC #RWISA

Raising my Twin Grandchildren: Endings and Beginnings

By Harriet Hodgson

After our elder daughter was killed in a car crash and our former son-in-law died in another car crash, my husband and I became GRGs – grandparents raising grandchildren.  Wow, did our lives change!  We are back to booming rock music, school concerts, ringing phones, text messages and emails, sleepovers, and school trips.

Since I had been cooking for two so long, it took me several months to adjust to cooking for teens again.  I go to the grocery store every other day and am cooking constantly.  Teen slang has changed drastically and I had to learn new words to communicate with my grandchildren.  I had to learn about new teenage customs, too, such as the boy’s prom tie matching his date’s dress.

Our grandchildren were 15 ½ when they moved in with us and turned 18 in February.  In a few weeks we are scheduled to appear in county court.  The purpose of the hearing is to end our status as the twin’s legal guardians.  But my grandparenting will continue, for the end of my guardianship is, in many ways, a new beginning.

From now on I will be interacting with two legal adults.  Though I will modify my grandparenting, my mission to protect, nurture, and love my grandchildren will be the same.  This has become clear in recent months, as the twins applied to colleges, evaluated them, chose their schools, and made plans for the future.  Each day the twins seem more mature and that is satisfying.

I have matured as well.  Brook Noel and Pamela D. Blair, PhD write about the growth that can come from grief in their book, “I Wasn’t Ready to Say Goodbye.”  They think grief “can manifest itself, by choice, as growth,” a view I agree with wholeheartedly.  The authors think mourners may create a meaningful new life by sharing their struggles, a suggestion I followed.

Bruce Campbell writes about creating a new life after loss in his article, “Ten Keys to Successful Coping: Key 10, Move Beyond Loss to Build a New Life,” posted on the CFIDS and Fibromyalgia website.  To create a new life Campbell says you need to focus on the future, have realistic expectations, nourish yourself, cultivate a sense of gratitude, and create new meaning.  “Helping others shifts you from preoccupation with your situation and your suffering, and gives a sense of new meaning,” he writes.

Becoming a GRG created new meaning for my life.  How do I see the future?  The twins need a home to return to, so my husband and I plan to stay in our home until our grandchildren graduate from college, and maybe longer.  I see my grandchildren exploring new ideas, learning new things, making new friends, and finding a soul mate.  I see us attending family events, planning weddings and, if we live long enough, holding our great grandchildren in our arms.

The court ruling will not change my sacred mission of being a GRG.  All of life is a series of endings and new beginnings.

 

BIO:

Harriet Hodgson, Health and Wellness Author

Rochester, Minnesota resident Harriet Hodgson has been a freelance writer for 38 years, is the author of thousands of articles, and 36 books. She has a BS from Wheelock College in Boston, an MA from the University of Minnesota, and additional graduate training.

Hodgson is a member of the Association of Health Care Journalists and the Alliance of Independent Authors (ALLi). She is a contributing writer for the Open to Hope Foundation, The Grief Toolbox, and The Caregiver Space websites. Visit www.thecaregiverspace.org/authors/hhodgson to read her articles.

Hodgson has appeared on more than 185 talk radio shows, including CBS Radio, dozens of television stations, including CNN, and dozens of blog talk radio programs. A popular guest, she has given presentations at public health, Alzheimer’s, bereavement, and caregiving conferences.

Her recent work is based on Hodgson’s 21 years as a family caregiver. She was her mother’s family caregiver for nine years, her twin grandchildren’s guardian and caregiver for seven years, and is in her fifth year as her disabled husband’s caregiver. Visit www.harriethodgson.com for more information about this busy wife, grandmother, caregiver, and author.

www.writelife.com    harriethodgson@charter.net

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author’s tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site.  If you’d like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.

 

Welcome to the Visionary Fiction and the Soul Blog Tour @pdeblassieiii #4WillsPub #RRBC

Visionary Fiction and the Soul Blog Tour

 Goddess of the Wild Thing

And

The Unholy

 Excerpt: Goddess of the Wild Thing

“Shirley spoke up, “Maybe we just gotta give it up and say there’s no good out there and no damn good men.” Shirley spat on the sidewalk, as she was prone to do when attitudes turned south and a pissed-off mood overrode a physician’s reserve. A petite woman, hovering around five-foot-three, she was a spitfire to friends and foes. Her red hair was a fine match for her spicy temperament. She never hesitated to snap her tongue, making an envious woman or cocky man shrivel and long to crawl into a nearby hole and cry. Shirley lived as a healer and a warrior, a woman who cared tenderly for the hurting and raged viciously at pretense and abuse.

Eve, Shirley, and two other friends, Tanya and Samantha, were plagued by man troubles the way pollution settles in during dusty days and humid nights in the Middle Rio Grande Valley of Aztlan del Sur. They were four esteemed professional women who could have any man they chose. Yet time and again, they went for the lower, the bad, the  worst. They sabotaged the good, the permanent. Commitment was a frightening consideration for four women who’d suffered childhoods of parental dysfunctional neglect and split-ups. They often quipped, “We found each other because like finds like.” Tonight, Eve’s troubles were front and center. She’d done it again or at least worried she had. The glitch in the man was in the type she attracted: charmers—striking and untrue. Suffering had begun. Time was critical. To stick it out or get out was her dilemma.  Things with a new man had taken a terrifying turn.”

 Author Bio:  Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D. is a depth psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico. He specializes in treating individuals in emotional and spiritual crisis. His novels, visionary thrillers, delve deep into archetypal realities as they play out dramatically in the lives of everyday people. Memberships include the Author’s Guild, Visionary Fiction Alliance, Depth Psychology Alliance, International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy, and the International Transpersonal Psychology Association.

Website

Facebook

Twitter

To follow along with the rest of the tour, please visit the author’s tour page on the 4WillsPublishing site.  If you’d like to book your own blog tour and have your book promoted in similar grand fashion, please click HERE.  Thanks for supporting this author and his work!

WHAM! Timewalker, Book 1 Audio-book Coming in 2019

Release Early 2019

WHAM!, the first book in our dystopian fantasy series, will be coming out on Audible, Amazon and ITunes in early 2019 as an audio-book. We are delighted to have Sky Wildmist read it with her superb and enchanting voice.

For a taste, its introduction, “Time does not Exist” is read by her here.

 

WHAM! Timewalker Book 1 and THEN…  Timewalker, Book 2, are both available to download FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

Pick Up Your Copies Today And Experience The World Of The Timewalkers…

 

Who is Minuet?

Minuet is born to the good wizard Razzmorten and his first wife Blodeuwedd who dies giving birth to her. Blodeuwedd, who was the most beautiful woman Razzmorten had ever seen in all his 329 years before he married her, was known to all as the maiden of flowers.

Millais_John_Everett_A_Souvenir_of_VelasquezRazzmorten is most taken with his new wee Minuet and quickly sees that she could well exceed his own powers someday. He hires a magically endowed woman called Demonica to be her nanny. Demonica is also beautiful and is an engaging companion, so he marries her. Soon she is pregnant. When she bears the child Ugleeuh, she vanishes with the crystal Heart of the Staff from Niarg’s royal treasury, leaving him to care for Minuet and Ugleeuh.

Minuet spends her childhood being a nurturing and precociously responsible older sister. For years she is Ugleuh’s staunch defender and champion, but after a time Ugleeuh’s play becomes a string of increasingly reprehensible pranks, forcing Minuet to endlessly undo her mischief. In Good Sister, Bad Sister, Ugleeuh plots to have Hebraun, the prince of Niarg for herself.

The plague comes to Niarg and Razzmorten finds the cure. When Minuet goes to tend plague victims at Fates’ Hospital for the Sick, she is nearly beaten to death by a superstitious crowd. Whilst recuperating, she finds out that Hebraun wants to marry her. Ugleeuh vanishes from sight.

Minuet does indeed marry Hebraun in time for him to become king of Niarg. When their firstborn Rose is three, Ugleeuh appears and tries to murder Minuet and Hebraun.

In The Collector Witch, Rose hears a damning rumor at her sixteenth birthday party that has her running away to far off lands with her younger brother Lukus to find answers. When word reaches Niarg that Ugleeuh is holding them captive, Minuet prepares to deal with Ugleeuh accordingly.

In Stone Heart, word comes to Niarg that Demonica and Queen Spitemorta of Goll are now in possession of the Great Staff and the much more potent Crystal Heart and plan to use them to conquer the entire world. Demonica declares that their first step should be to destroy all Elfkind. Minuet knits, waiting for the Elf Soraya, Lukus’s wife, to give birth. She comforts Hebraun who feels old and tired after finding Niarg’s grain ruined by a curse. Fuzz asks for Rose’s hand in marriage. Minuet fits her old wedding gown to Rose and helps her prepare for her wedding. She sees Hebraun off to fight the Golls when they burn Ash Fork to the ground.

In The Burgeoning, she rides forth leading her army, determined to cut out Spitemorta’s black heart and feed it to the hogs. And her tale continues in The Reaper WitchDoom.

 

 

 

 

 

Carol Marrs Phipps & Tom Phipps

Abaddon Needs Pie

apples

 

 He found Abaddon playing quietly with the yarn dolls which he insisted were “soldiers.”

“So. You’ll be leaving now,” said Abaddon without looking up.

“I have no choice as you well know, Abbey,” he said, squatting beside him.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug and gravel in his throat, still refusing to look up. “He’s your friend. He’s your best friend, and he counts ‘way more ‘n I do!”

Lance went wide eyed at the resentment he heard in Abaddon’s voice. “These days, you’ve gotten to be my friend too, Abbey,” he said, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “but you know as well as I do what’s going to happen to him if I don’t get him out…”

“Well go then!” he said, flinging away Lance’s hand. “But you’re too late!”

“How? Wait a minute! You say I’m too late?”

“If you’re so ready to leave, just go, but someone else rescued your friend James.”

“What?”

“I said somebody got him out…”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Some stupid knaves. Boy, is my momma ever goin’ ‘o kill them bad if she catches them. They’d better never get caught.”

“How do I know you’re not making up all this so I’ll not leave?”

“You think I’d lie about something like this?” cried Abaddon with wounded fury.

“Yea. I’m sorry to say so, but from what I’ve seen, if it got you what you wanted, you sure might.”

Abaddon yanked his scrying crystal from his neck, flung it at Lance and dashed out of sight into the lava tube.

Lance glanced at the talisman in his hands. “He was scrying the very moment I walked in!” he gasped, riveting his gaze back upon it. “Fates! Is that James? It is! He looks like a bearded ghost. And I don’t know a one of those knaves, but each one of ’em looks familiar.” He gave the pendant a thoughtful heft before clenching it tight in his fist as he sprang to his feet to find Abaddon. “I sure hope my putting it straight to him hasn’t undone everything.”  

Ch. 21,

Lance found Abaddon lying belly down on his bed. “What do you want, stupid?” said Abaddon, looking up suddenly from his scrying crystal. “Didn’t your dumb Fairies ever teach you to knock to announce yourself to your betters when you enter their private quarters?” 

“I learnt it as a courtesy for anyone, and I learnt that it wasn’t the only courtesy one could use either…”

“Yea?”

“Yea. Like this pie. I could say, ‘Hey Abby, here’s the best pie in the world. Want some?'” He gave a beckoning nod.

“That’s vulgar clumsiness in place of proper respect for royals, but I’ve come to expect as much…”

“Well, better dig in while I’m being rude, so it won’t get cold.”

Abaddon scowled as he took the saucer, but his first delicate whiff of the pie arrested every urge he had in mind until he had wolfed down every bit of it. Lance sat on the bed and waited, looking at the backs of his hands.

“That was pretty good,” said Abaddon, handing back the saucer. “Thanks.”

“Why, you’re welcome,” he said, stumbling to recover from being completely thrown off by Abaddon’s polite remark. “So, you were scrying when I came in. Did you see anything interesting?”

“Nay, not much. Just James and his idiot knaves on some old road out in the grass.”

“Gollmoor? It’d have to be Gollmoor, but they could be anywhere out on it. Did you watch long enough to see anything else?”

“I didn’t get a chance to because of your clumsy entry.”

“Did you see a river…?”

“I just said I didn’t, stupid.”

Lance studied him for a moment. “Abbey, would you do me a huge favor and scry your dad again, long enough for me to tell where he is?”

“Why? So you can run off and leave me here with your crazy Fairies and Ratman and be where he is?” he said with gravel in his throat. “That’s really stupid, you know. Sooner or later Momma’s going find him and his knaves and they’re all going to die, screaming and kicking. No way she won’t do it, either. And if you’re with them, she’ll really kill you, ’cause you’re his friend and my kidnapper. She’ll figure out ways to kill you for an extra, extra long time.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that for one moment, Abbey. That’s why I need your help, and that’s why your father needs it, too.”

“You and James need me?” he said, suddenly free of his sullen demeanor.

“Way more than you might imagine. Only you can save us from being killed by your mother and Demonica.”

Abaddon went altogether wide eyed. “Lance my magic is still little,” he said. “It’s not nearly big enough to stop my momma or Nana Demonica. They’d kill me, too!”

“Oh no Abbey. I’d never put you in that kind of danger. All I need is for you to scry your father again so I can figure out just where he is. I think I know of a way to protect him, if I can get to him quickly enough.”

Abaddon took on a sullen look at once.

“Look Abbey, you really wouldn’t think much of me if I let a good friend of mine die when I might’ve been able to save him, would you?”

Abaddon picked at a piece of lint on his bedspread, his mouth set tightly.

“So could you?” said Lance, carefully.

“Maybe,” he said, looking up from his piece of lint. “But you can’t leave me here with the old Fairies. You’re going to need me along with my crystal. You don’t think James and his knaves are going to just stay in one spot and wait for you to get there, do you?”

Lance drew a breath to speak but let it out. “Hmm…”

Abaddon’s eyes lit up. “Then you’ll do it?” he said with an excited bounce on the bed. “You’ll take me with you?”

Lance nodded slowly, stunned at himself for agreeing to Abaddon’s ruse. “Well then,” he said softly, “let’s look at your crystal.”

Abaddon already had it out, staring at the shapes of James and his companions appearing amongst its swirling colors.

Ch. 26, The Burgeoning

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carol Marrs Phipps & Tom Phipps

 

Tom Phipps