by MR Cornelius

                                    

Fifty-seven year old Robert Malone is the CEO of a successful clothing store chain and married to a former model. When his doctor tells him he is dying of cancer, he refuses to go quietly. Instead of death, Robert chooses cryonics. He knows it's a long shot. His frozen body will be stored in liquid nitrogen for the next seventy-five years, and then he'll wake up in the future. That is, if technology develops a way to bring him back. He's willing to take that gamble.

What he doesn't realize is that he won't lie in some dreamless state all that time. His soul is very much awake, just like the others who were frozen before him. And like these souls in limbo, Robert begins a new kind of life outside his physical body. He discovers that he can ride in the cockpit with the pilots, but he can't turn the page of a magazine. He can sit in the oval office with the president, but he can't prevent a child from dashing in front of a car. He doesn't work, or eat, or sleep. He can't smell, or taste, or touch. These obstacles make it difficult to experience love, and virtually impossible to reconcile with the living.

Over the next several decades, Robert Malone will have plenty of time to figure out The Ups and Downs of Being Dead.

EXCERPT FROM THE UPS AND DOWN OF BEING DEAD:

At first, he’d done what any intelligent man would do when the doctor folded his hands on his desk and quietly said, ‘You have cancer.’ Robert got a second opinion.

That noted oncologist laid it out in a way Robert could not deny. Like an advertising campaign, the doctor presented images from an MRI and pointed out the large mass in Robert’s liver. Then he produced colorful brochures on the finest cancer treatment centers, pamphlets touting the latest pharmaceuticals, and of course, the bar graphs and pie charts that estimated how long Robert had to live.

For the first time in almost thirty years, Robert took the rest of the day off. He struggled to get through the telephone conversation with his secretary canceling appointments, rearranging meetings. By the time he ended the call, Robert felt so weak he’d braced his arm on the roof of his car and rested his forehead on the sleeve of his hand-tailored suit. Struggling for breath, he was unable to even stop the drool that oozed out of his gaping mouth and dribbled down the window of his Mercedes.

Stale exhaust fumes in the parking garage choked Robert, the low clearance closed in on him. He was practically running when he came out onto the open top level. The heat of the day washed over Robert, and his body sagged. He lurched to the edge of the roof, and looked out over Atlanta, the classic query drumming in his head. ‘Why me?’

When Amanda heard he was dying, she rushed home from her shopping trip in New York. Robert was in his office, on the phone, when she burst in, her cheeks flushed, her eyes aglow. If he had to describe her expression in one word, it would have been exuberant.

Almost overnight, she transformed into a loving, sacrificing wife who put everything on hold for him. She drove him to his chemo appointments. She waited patiently outside the bathroom while he puked his guts out, then helped him back to bed, tucking brand-new sheets under his chin. Death sheets, he’d called them. He was certain she’d agonized over just the right shade and design to go with cancer.

She volunteered for the American Cancer Society, masquerading as a pillar of strength in front of other spouses of dying partners. She even participated in one of those walks – Amanda, who probably hadn’t worn a pair of sneakers since she was ten. And she never went anywhere without that goofy pink ribbon pinned to her clothing.

Robert was sure the only reason she got so involved with the cancer organization was to get first-hand information on how soon he could be expected to croak. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on his millions.

Wouldn’t she be surprised?

Amazon  (US) / Amazon  (UK)

After working for fifteen years as a cafeteria manager in an elementary school, Marsha Cornelius turned in her non-skid shoes for a bathrobe and slippers. She now works at home, writing novels, acting out scenes with her cats, and occasionally running a Swiffer across dusty surfaces.

Like thousands of others, she thought she could write romance, but soon discovered she was a dismal failure. She did increase her repertoire of adjectives such as throbbing, pulsing, thrumming, vibrating, hammering, pumping . . .

Her first novel, H10N1, is a thriller about a flu pandemic gone awry, and her latest endeavor, The Ups and Downs of Being Dead, tells the story of a man who chooses to have his body cryonically-frozen rather than face death. 

She resides in the countryside north of Atlanta with her husband. Her two grown sons occasionally visit for clean laundry and a hot cooked meal.

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H10N1 by M.R. Cornelius

                

                   

A deadly influenza virus rages out of control. There is no easy-fix vaccine. No eleventh-hour containment. Only death.

With no workforce, power plants are unmanned so there’s no means of communication; police and fire departments have collapsed so no one is safe; looters are scavenging everything from big-screen TVs to canned peas.

When Dr. Taeya Sanchez finds herself unceremoniously dismissed from an emergency medical facility in New York, she decides to steal the hospital’s armored van for a midnight escape.

Unfortunately, Rick DeAngelo, a driver for the hospital, has already stocked the van for his own getaway.

Thrown into an unfriendly alliance, these two must pick their way across the dangerous wasteland of America in search of a safe haven. And as the miles roll by, they discover that the living should be feared much more than the festering corpses out there.

EXCERPT FROM H10 N1:

From her second story office window, Taeya Sanchez watched the burning apartment building across the street. At first, all she’d seen was smoke wafting up out of the roof, but she knew what was happening inside—flames were gobbling up curtains and chairs, favorite jeans and photo albums. Once the fire gathered up enough strength, a fist of flames would punch through a window, sucking in air and growing.

Who had started this particular blaze? A survivor cooking on a barbecue grill or a camp stove? Without power, the few remaining residents still holed up in their apartments were getting creative. One man who came into the Medical Center had burns on his legs and feet from one of those ten-gallon turkey fryers filled with boiling oil. She shuddered to think what he might have been cooking. It wasn’t a Butterball. He’d barely escaped before the spilled oil ignited the propane tank, blowing out a wall, and setting yet another building on fire.

The recently homeless who’d been burned out of their own flats, moved into abandoned buildings and started the process again. And it wasn’t just cooking accidents. A kerosene lantern got kicked over. A candle was left burning all night. She was sure pyros and looters intentionally set some of the blazes.

At least it was summer. Taeya couldn’t imagine what people might do in order to stay warm this winter.

Down on the streets, no fire trucks screamed for the right-of-way. No cars swerved or honked. There were no curious pedestrians clogging the sidewalks to hamper firemen. Manhattan was dead. Wiped out by a virus that Taeya still did not fully comprehend.

As an epidemiologist, she had spent the last ten years chasing outbreaks. Who carried the disease, was it bacterial or viral, where were the outbreaks occurring? She tracked host, agent, and environment like a board game. Mrs. Peacock, with a candlestick, in the observatory.

Amazon (US)     Amazon  (UK)

After working for fifteen years as a cafeteria manager in an elementary school, Marsha Cornelius turned in her non-skid shoes for a bathrobe and slippers. She now works at home, writing novels, acting out scenes with her cats, and occasionally running a Swiffer across dusty surfaces.

Like thousands of others, she thought she could write romance, but soon discovered she was a dismal failure. She did increase her repertoire of adjectives such as throbbing, pulsing, thrumming, vibrating, hammering, pumping . . .

Her first novel, H10N1, is a thriller about a flu pandemic gone awry, and her latest endeavor, The Ups and Downs of Being Dead, tells the story of a man who chooses to have his body cryonically-frozen rather than face death. 

She resides in the countryside north of Atlanta with her husband. Her two grown sons occasionally visit for clean laundry and a hot cooked meal.          

 Twitter / Facebook / Goodreads / Website / Author Page

Saving Grace by Pamela Fagan Hutchins

 

If you're at all inclined to be swept away to the islands to fall in love with a rainforest jumbie house and a Texas attorney who is as much a danger to herself as the island bad guys, then dive headfirst with Katie Connell into Saving Grace.

Katie escapes professional humiliation, a broken heart, and her Bloody Mary-habit when she runs to the island of St. Marcos to investigate the suspicious deaths of her parents. But she trades one set of problems for another when she is bewitched by the voodoo spirit Annalise in an abandoned rainforest house and, as worlds collide, finds herself reluctantly donning her lawyer clothes again to defend her new friend Ava, who is accused of stabbing her very married Senator-boyfriend.

You can visit her website at www.pamelahutchins.com.




What people are saying about Saving Grace:
“Katie is the first character I have absolutely fallen in love with since Stephanie Plum! I’m hoping for a series!” Stephanie Hayes Swindell, reader
“Katie is someone who could be you, your sister, or your best friend — someone you can really connect to.” Rene Riedlinger, reader
“Saving Grace is a remarkable debut novel. It is everything a good read should be, with an exotic setting, vivid characterization (including jumbies), authentic-sounding dialogue, and real emotion, all balanced with page-turning doses of action and suspense. Fun, witty, exciting, and unputdownable!” Rhonda Doyle Erb, editor and reader
“This book was worth every moment I spent savouring it, and I can’t wait to read the next one.” Joana James, author of Finding Romeo and reviewer for Book Wormz




Read the first chapter!

Laura De Luca

Gabriella is a witch. The problem is, she doesn't remember. She repressed the memories of her powers years ago when her mother was murdered. Now, the warlock who was responsible for her mother's death has set his sights on Gabriella. He is determined to use her fear to turn her to the dark side of magick…even if it kills her. Her mother's spirit is reaching out to warn her, but even that she pushes away. Desperate to save her daughter, the spirit finds a male witch–one that just happens to be in love with Gabriella. Darron is more than willing to help but the two young witches will have way more to battle than just an evil warlock. There are overbearing jocks and petty rich girls who get tempers flaring and often set Gabriella and Darron at odds.

There is more to the story than Gabriella and Darron could even imagine. There are terrible secrets to be revealed, battles to be waged, and lives will be lost. Only after Gabriella and Darron both come to terms with who they really are, and open themselves up to the true meaning of magick, can they have any hope of fulfilling their destiny.

Destiny Unveiled

Gabriella and Darron thought their magickal battle was over when they defeated the evil warlock, Richard. When her Aunt Donna seeks Gabriella's help in rescuing her catatonic daughter from the Dark Coven, Gabriella discovers that her cousin holds a power within her that would be catastrophic in the hands of the evil witches. Gabriella's coven sets out on a journey that may be their last. Along the way, they meet new allies, face devastating treachery, and battle not only the Dark Coven, but the darkness within themselves. When Gabriella finally comes face to face with the cousin she never knew existed, her true destiny is unveiled, and the fate of the mortal world is in her hands.

 

About the Author:

Laura “Luna” DeLuca lives at the beautiful Jersey shore with her husband and four children. She loves writing in the young adult genre because it keeps her young at heart.  In addition to writing fiction, Laura is also the sole author of a popular review blog called New Age Mama. She is an active member of her local pagan community, and has been studying Wicca for close to eight years. Visit her on her websites at http://authorlauradeluca.blogspot.com or  http://newagemama.blogspot.com .

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Destiny Excerpt:

Her eyes scanned the room, from the pale blue sofa to the bloody dent in the wall. But she didn’t need her eyes to know Darron was there. Her heart sensed his presence before her eyes saw him lying in a heap on the ground. His body shuttered with occasional spasms, and even though he wasn’t fully conscious, his lips were twisted in a grimace of pain.

Uttering a gasp of surprise, Gabriella flew to his side. She knelt beside him, and choked back a sob as she took his hand in her own. She saw his chest rise and fall and was glad to know was alive, but she felt helpless as she watched his face contort in pain. She noticed something wet and sticky on her fingertips. She gently titled his head and saw a large gash that looked like it needed medical attention.  The skin around the gash was so deeply bruised it looked almost black.

 “Darron, what happened to you?”

He didn’t move or reply. Gabriella moved her hand from the cut on his forehead, and her fingers dripped with blood. She bit her lower lip with fear. She knew enough about head injuries to know that the wound could be serious. She grabbed a few tissues from a box on the coffee table, and tried to apply pressure to the wound, but it was useless. The tissues were soaked through in seconds.

 “Darron?” She squeezed his hand, and fought back tears of fear and frustration.  “Darron, please open your eyes. Please be all right!”

He squirmed and groaned a little in response. Looking at his contorted features, Gabriella felt incompetent and useless. She didn’t know what to do to help him. The cut must need stitches. The blood was gushing through her fingertips, and she was sure his life was slipping away just as quickly.

More than anything, Gabriella wanted to help Darron, to end his suffering. Her thoughts, her desperation, caused something deep inside of her to stir. Something that had long been napping was awoken. The power she had fought so hard to deny was forcing its way to the surface. This time she didn’t struggle against that power. Her instinct to hide from it was finally overcome by the thought of losing someone else she cared about.

 

Gabriella was pulling strength and warmth from the earth, as though her legs were tree roots taking nourishment from the element. A tingling sensation began in the tips of her toes and spread slowly though her body as she breathed in the essence of the element of air.  Her blood flowed and grew warm, the element of water, bringing the power to the surface. She was overcome by a vigorous strength as she envisioned her spirit encircled by the element of fire. She felt so powerful that she thought she could stop the world from churning if that was what she wished. Gabriella focused the power, remembering for a moment her mother’s lessons. She looked down at her battered friend. She willed him to open his eyes and look at her. She demanded it of him.

Gabriella would have thought it was impossible, but she felt herself grow warmer. Her face dripped with perspiration. The power within her reached a climax. Then finally, when she thought she might burst, she felt the energy release. It seeped through her fingers, and shined with an illumination that only she could see. She heard herself chanting unfamiliar words, and scarcely recognized her own voice.

 “By the power of earth, water, fire and air,

Heal this man who’s in my care.

Goddess, hear your daughter’s plea.

As I will it, so mote it be!”

Gabriella repeated the words three times. Three was the number of power. Then she watched as the wound on Darron’s forehead healed before her eyes, becoming smaller and smaller, until finally it was gone. The blood was still warm and sticky, but beneath the blood, the skin was smooth and unmarred. Even the horrible bruise had vanished. Gabriella stared in open astonishment, marveling at the work she had done.

 

Destiny Unveiled Excerpt:

After collecting the offering from his followers, the leader returned to the center of the circle and the waiting initiate. With one quick motion, he sliced open his own palm. He held his hand over the cup, letting his blood drip slowly into the chalice, until the wound miraculously healed before Darron's startled eyes. When the chalice was full, he carried it to the eager initiate who took the cup firmly into his hands and tilted it towards his lips.

"As this blood makes you one with our flesh, so your soul follows to become one with the darkness," the English voice intoned.

As the initiate drained the last of the liquid in the chalice, his hood fell away, revealing a blonde ponytail pulled back over a pale white face, made even paler by the outline of bright red blood around his lips. Darron watched in stunned, horrified silence as his own face turned to meet his gaze. Eyes turned as black as coals stared back at Darron with a grim smile of satisfaction.

"Rise Darron," the leader commanded. And as he spoke, he lifted the hood from his head. Rise brother of the Dark Coven."

Starflower by Anne Elisabeth Stengl

When a cursed dragon-witch kidnaps the lovely Lady Gleamdren, Eanrin sets boldly forth on a rescue mission...and a race against his rival for Gleamdren's favor. Intent upon his quest, the last thing the immortal Faerie needs is to become mixed up with the troubles of an insignificant mortal.

But when he stumbles upon a maiden trapped in an enchanted sleep, he cannot leave her alone in the dangerous Wood Between. One waking kiss later, Eanrin suddenly finds his story entangled with that of young Starflower. A strange link exists between this mortal girl and the dragon-witch. Will Starflower prove the key to Lady Gleamdren's rescue? Or will the dark power from which she flees destroy both her and her rescuer?

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Excerpt

The Kiss by the River:

The girl did not stir when Eanrin lifted her into his arms; her sleep was profound indeed. Her head lolled over his arm, and he was obliged to part her thick hair to uncover her face. It was an uncommonly beautiful face for a mortal.

However, this girl’s beauty was different from any he had ever before seen. For one thing, her skin was rich dark brown, and her hair glossy black. For another, she was imperfect. Her teeth, visible between gently parted lips, were a little crooked. Mud stained her skin, making it darker still, and her brow, even in sleep, was puckered with anxiety or fear. Her dreams must be wicked indeed.

Eanrin grimaced at the sight and almost put her down again. After all, a princess with dreams like those probably had a tale of woe to match. She would certainly wake with expectations of a handsome hero to aid her. As far as Eanrin was concerned, a dash of heroism was one thing, but commitment to a cause? Never. Rushing off to the rescue of Lady Gleamdren was different, for he had determined that she must be his wife and the sole inspiration to his life’s work. Besides, he loved her.

This creature meant nothing to him.

But blood oozed from the abrasions on her wrists. And her body, mortal and vulnerable, lay in his arms. Eanrin rolled his eyes heavenward as though to seek some holy aid. Then he braced himself and wiped the mud off her lips with the edge of his cloak. She frowned in her sleep and stirred, but did not wake.

“Nothing for it,” he muttered. Closing his eyes and trying not to smell her any more than he must, he leaned in and kissed her . . .

Author Anne Elisabeth Stengl

Anne Elisabeth Stengl makes her home in Raleigh, North Carolina, where she lives with her husband, Rohan, a passel of cats, and one long-suffering dog. When she's not writing, she enjoys Shakespeare, opera, and tea, and studies piano, painting, and pastry baking. She studied illustration at Grace College and English literature at Campbell University. She is the author of HEARTLESS, VEILED ROSE, MOONBLOOD, and STARFLOWER, with DRAGONWITCH due to release in 2013. HEARTLESS and VEILED ROSE have each been honored with a Christy Award.

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Secret of the Songshell by Brian Tashima

Genre: YA sci-fi/fantasy

Publisher: Prism Valley Press

ISBN: 978-0615648156
ASIN: 0615648150

Number of pages: 318
Word Count: 79000

Cover Artist: Purnima Prasad
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Book Description:

Joel Suzuki is a gifted teenage guitarist with Asperger's Syndrome who gets transported to a world where his unique brain waves can be combined with the sound waves of music to create magical effects. Once there, he must use his newfound abilities to locate the Songshell, a powerful artifact that will help him stop a mysterious evil entity from destroying the alternate world as well as the Earth.

Chapter 1: a bad day

W

hy why why did I promise to do this?

Joel calculated in his head that he had three minutes and thirty-five seconds to pull this off. The next class started in six and a half minutes. He wanted to give himself a buffer.

Three minutes and thirty-five seconds — the exact same duration as Hang on Darkness, the sixth song on Biledriver’s first album.

 Joel blinked a few times as he tried to refocus his thoughts.

WEEEoooWEEEoooWEEEooo

A high-pitched warbling sound squealed in his ears, accompanied by a brief, sharp pain that shot through his head from left to right. The sound lasted for two seconds, and then it was over. He looked around. No one else seemed to have heard it.

Joel rubbed his temples, closed his eyes and exhaled. It was the second time today that he had heard the strange noise, but there was no time to worry about it now.

He opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of his target: a head of long, shiny black hair cascading over a blood-red blouse. A cold, empty feeling gripped his stomach.

I can’t do this. I can’t even pass a stupid reading comprehension test. What makes me think I can do this?

Joel scanned the hall of his high school and saw that the other students were blocking off all possible avenues of exit. He replayed a vision of his sister in his mind.

“You promise, right?” Taylor’s button-shaped ten-year-old face said to him.

With that, he took a deep breath and strode forward.

Three minutes exactly.

Sometimes, you just gotta say, what the heck.

And go with it.

The head of shiny black hair turned away from the locker it was facing, revealing a soft, pale face with deep brown eyes and bright red lips. The eyes regarded Joel with an air of bemused expectation.

“Um, hi,” Joel whispered at his shoes.

“Sorry?” the lips said as the head leaned in a little closer.

Joel cleared his throat. He had only learned two weeks ago that “sorry” in this context meant that the other person did not hear you. “Hi, um, Suzi, right?”

“Right,” Suzi said. “And you are —?”

Joel could almost feel his synapses firing. “Um, Joel — I’m Joel. Joel Suzuki. We’re in, uh, the same chemistry class. Honors chemistry.”

Suzi’s eyes widened with recognition. “Oh yeah, second period, right? Sorry I didn’t recognize you — don’t you sit way in the back?”

Joel searched his brain for an appropriate response. The script was not going quite as he had planned. A large Junior Prom poster announcing a day of the week that was mismatched to the actual date distracted him for a moment. He shook his head to refocus once again. “No, I mean, yeah, I guess. It’s not really way in the back, actually, it’s the third desk from the back, and, uh . . .”

“Okay,” Suzi chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.”

“Um, nice to meet you too,” Joel replied. His mind started to drown in a pool of his own jumbled thoughts, one of which cried out now what was I supposed to say next? “Oh, well, the third desk from the back — in the second row on the right side of the room — if you’re facing the class from the front, um, you know, from the teacher’s perspective.”

“Uh, okay,” Suzi said.

Joel clenched his teeth. Faced with internal panic, he retreated to safer, familiar ground. “Um, speaking of chemistry, that’s like science, right? And, um, did you know that Newton was the first person to come up with the theory of air resistance? It’s like, for low flow speeds, drag is due to the dimensions of a body, the density of the fluid, and the —”

A hand with long red-painted nails closed a locker door. “Hey, um, Joel, I really have to get to class, but it’s been nice talking to you, okay?”

“Oh — uh, yeah, okay,” Joel stammered. He wanted to tell her that they had one hundred and thirty seconds left to get to class, but she had already turned to leave.

  

About the Author:

Brian Tashima was born and raised in Hawaii and has been a resident of Vancouver, Washington since 2000. In addition to being an author, he is a singer, songwriter and guitarist who has won a Hoku award (Hawaii’s version of the Grammys) and has had his music featured in short films, international compilations, and numerous other forms of media. He is currently a member of SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators), Willamette Writers, Northwest Independent Writers Association, and three Vancouver/Portland-based rock bands.

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2 print copies of Secret of the Songshell (open to US)

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City of the Gods by S.J. Mcmillan

 

In 700 A.D. Teotihuacan, Mexico, the High Priest believed himself to be a powerful as the gods. He set a plague on the city as a demonstration of his power. The Gods took pity on the remaining loyal congregation. They granted each survivor immortality and an extraordinary ability. Three loyal survivors were given a mission of great importance: train the lone human descendant of their civilization to stop the evil priest from damning the rest of humanity.

Now in San Diego, California, the time has come to finally make Katalina Deckard aware of her destiny. Her life has been a constant struggle since the loss of her parents when she was young. These struggles have made her a fighter, but she doesn’t believe they have prepared her to save the world. Her friends, who have survived for so long, must convince her that she has what it takes to accept the mantle of the Redeemer.

 

Release Date: November 16th, 2012

Genre: Urban fantasy

 

About the Author:

I live in Southwest Missouri with my super supportive husband and our three energetic young rascals. I work as an administrative assistant during the week. Now I get to add published author to my list of roles I play in life.

Being an author was not my first career choice. In my younger years I wanted to be a dancer, but dance lessons are expensive! I also wanted to be Dolly Parton from The Best Little Whore House in Texas. I could really belt out Itty Bitty Piss Ant Country Place, just ask my parents, or their former neighbors.

After a slew of other interesting job choices, I just could not shake the writing bug I picked up in high school. I started writing poetry and still write a poem whenever inspiration hits me. I also love to read, especially paranormal romances and urban fantasies. The love of reading is what spawned the desire to try my hand at writing a novel of my very own.

I love creating the characters and giving them their own personalities and voices. I have also come to enjoy writing fight scenes. My husband (the wonderful man that he is) will act them out with me so I know exactly how I need to show it to the audience. Call us crazy if you like, but it's really fun to act out a scene using a broom handle as a spear and a foam baseball bat as an axe.

I hope you enjoy City of the Gods: The Descendant. The second book of the trilogy is being edited and I’m working on the third and final book now. I love to hear from fellow authors and readers. You can find me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/mcmillansj, on Twitter at www.twitter.com/mcmillansj, or swing by my website at www.mcmillansj.com.

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Excerpt:

“Who did this?” Tristan asked quietly, almost more to himself than to Kat.

“Probably that bastard Ryan. He is going to pay for every last thing he demolished,” Kat replied, assuming Tristan was speaking about the chaos throughout the rest of the house. She stepped forward and looked around the room once more. It was then that she noticed the black flowers sitting on her dresser. Kat walked over and pulled the small white card from them. She opened the envelope to reveal a card with a beautiful picture of the same flower in white. Tristan came to stand behind her as she opened the card. It was a simple message, but one she would not soon forget.

I am coming for you.

Tristan plucked the card from her hand and reread it. Kat stood frozen in place, shocked and confused. Her mind raced with unanswerable questions. Who was coming for her? What did they want from her? Was this actually some sick joke Ryan was playing or was someone really coming to get her? Her stomach churned and her head began to pound. She doubled over in pain while fear of the unknown trespasser flooded her brain. It was all too overwhelming.

Kat hugged her arms around her stomach. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees on the floor. A cold sweat broke on her forehead. Kat was almost glad when black spots started to swim in her vision. She tried to ask Tristan for help, but she could not find her voice. Dizziness engulfed her, and she felt herself begin to fall the rest of the way to the floor. Tristan caught her just before her head and the floor collided. She could barely hear his concerned voice calling her name as the blackness surrounded her.

“Katalina, open your eyes.” Tristan shook her a bit, hoping she would regain consciousness. Sabine and Vivian had heard the commotion, rushed into the room, and directly to Kat’s side. To Tristan’s great relief, Katalina’s eyes opened a crack, enough to see the intensely harsh gaze she gave him. Tristan looked to the girls, who looked equally surprised by her reaction.

“Katalina?” Tristan questioned.

“Leave her alone,” Katalina responded and her nearly black eyes closed once again.

French Illusions by Linda Kovic-Skow

 In the summer of 1979, twenty-one-year-old Linda Kovic contracts to become an au pair for an wealthy French family in the Loire Valley. To secure the position, she pretends to speak the language, fully aware her deception will be discovered once she arrives at her destination. Based on the author's diary, French Illusions captures Linda's fascinating and often challenging real-life story inside and outside the Château de Montclair. The over-bearing, Madame Dubois, her accommodating husband, Monsieur Dubois, and their two children are highlighted as Linda struggles to adapt to her new environment. Continually battling the language barrier, she signs up and attends classes at the local university in the nearby town of Tours, broadening her range of experiences. When she encounters, Adam, a handsome young student, her life with the Dubois family becomes more complicated, adding fuel to her internal battle for independence.

          

 

 

Excerpt:

When my alarm sounded at 6:30, I leapt out of bed, eager for another opportunity to attend a course at the Université François-Rabelais. I wanted to make a good impression on my professors and peers, so I spent a bit more time on my appearance, brushing some blush on my cheekbones and curling my eyelashes before applying mascara. The result prompted a grin from my mirror image. Pulling on a sweater, I grabbed my purse and ran downstairs.

After I completed my usual morning routine with the children, Madame Dubois rattled off a list of chores, my pulse accelerating with concern as I listened. Has she forgotten that I'm going to Tours today?

"Wash up the dishes in the sink, change the sheets on my bed, and sweep the entranceway."

"I have to catch the ten o'clock train, or I'll be late for my class," I reminded her.

"Well then, you had better get started."

Rushing out the door an hour later, mumbling angry words, I half-jogged the road to Songais and barely arrived at the train in time.

Oooh . . . she makes me so mad!

Out of breath, I boarded the coach and found a place to sit down. Unclenching my jaw, stretching my neck right, and then left, I willed myself to relax. I was determined not to let Madame Dubois ruin my day.

As the train pulled out of Tours, the attendant, a young man about my age, sauntered down the aisle, his gaze darting back and forth as he identified new passengers. I watched him, admiring his masculine features, until he reached me. Our eyes locked, his sky blue on my moss green, and my stomach lurched.

"Vous visitez Songais?" he asked.

"Non, je suis arrivée récemment," I said handing him my rail pass. No, I arrived recently.

He glanced at my document and leaned in closer. So close, in fact, that I smelled his cologne, musk with a hint of citrus. "Linda . . . d'où êtes-vous?" Where are you from?

"Je viens des Etats-Unis."

He smiled and my heart fluttered. "Enchanté," he said, and added, "Je m'appelle Renaud."

"Enchantée," I responded, feeling tongue-tied.

Renaud tried out his English. "How long you visiting?"

"Many months," I muttered.

"It is wonderful!" he exclaimed, and heads turned to look at us. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. "I go now, Linda, but I hope to see you again."

Picking up his pace, he moved down the aisle and exited into the next coach. A few of the passengers glared at me, but I ignored them. I had enjoyed my interchange with Renaud and felt flattered to receive so much attention from such an attractive Frenchman. From now on, my rides to and from Tours might be the highlight of my day.

Amazon / BN
 

 

Linda Kovic-Skow resides in Kirkland, Washington. She earned an Associate Degree in Medical Assisting in 1978 from North Seattle Community College and a Bachelor of Arts in Business Administration from Seattle University in 1985. She has been married for 27 years and has two daughters. An enthusiastic traveler, Linda also enjoys boating, gardening and socializing with friends. French Illusions, her debut memoir, is the culmination of a three-year project.

You can visit her website at www.lindakovicskow.com

 

 

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