Another couple of tales from Joe at the GKTC

Friends, readers, gentle alien beings–

I finally finished two stories in the GKTC (Green Knight Terraforming Company) world with Joe and Donald with a new friend, Ms. Frigg, that has Joe off-balance.

I dedicate these two stories to my late hubby, Otto Tune, who would have done many of the same things Joe does, but in the end always fixes the problem.

On the business side I am playing with preorder with Amazon. If you liked Joe before in the first story, then you’ll enjoy him again.

GKTC2015ebookcover1

Release Date: September 15, 2015

Late Payment and If You Should Choose This Mission

“Most customers are extremely satisfied with the job The Green Knight Terraforming Company does to refurbish their planets. However, when there is a problem and a customer complains, then the human Joe called Tiny by his team is the person who is sent to solve the customer’s problems. Joe’s backup muscle, Donald, is there for those tiny problems like when Joe touches before he looks.

Joe, Donald, the lab animals, and pilot drones are a rollicking bunch of troubleshooters. One hundred percent guaranteed to fix any customer problem or if that doesn’t work– fix the customer.

Here are two new short stories in the Green Knight Terraforming Company universe.”

 

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Thursday Promotion: Erika T Red #AmazonCart

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Old book  – new cover.

Since the summer 0f 2013, (also known as the summer of collapse in my private thoughts), my books have not done well in this new era of high gas prices, food, and shelter. As an incentive, to making my books more attractive I lowered the prices and am busily changing covers.

If you make your own covers and are not an artist, I suggest using Dreamstime.com. I found this particular site last year when I decided that my covers needed to look more professional. I pay for the use of the image with a credit system. There is also a free area. Then I add the lettering. (Plus I give the artist a cover image credit in the book.)

I have changed this cover approximately two other times. The first cover was from one of my personal photos. Then I used CreateSpace’s cover maker, which gave me the next image. As you can see the newest cover does have a zing to it that tErikatredebook smashwordshis one doesn’t.

Also, many of the visual artists on this site are freelancing and are in the indie market. I try to support people who are in basically the same marketplace.

I am learning slowly that a cover is the first thing that readers see and the first marketing tool.

Erika T Red

Erika is a normal girl, trying to save money for college when she walks into her destiny in the form of a wolf, raven, and a dying god. She learns life is not fair, but it can have some benefits along the way.

Amazon.com

Smashwords.com

Barnes & Noble

You can also find this book in other outlets such as Apple and Scribd.

Excerpt:

Prologue

Farbiorn Neilsen leaned against the dark rocks, slicked with light rain. He peered through them to the scene below. An old man with a bandage around his eyes was carefully led to the center of a clearing in front of a small wooden shack. Around him were warriors dressed in leather jerkins. One or two of them carried swords. The rest carried wooden spears.

He shivered. Farbiorn did not want to go back to that clearing. Just minutes before, he had been forced into the shack. The warriors had held his head so that he was forced to face the old man, eyes to eyes. If the old man had uncovered his eyes, then Farbiorn would not be the same. He knew it in his gut.

In a last desperate effort, Farbiorn struggled free. He didn’t know how he had gotten away from the warrior, but he had run as fast as he could into the rocks. He had slid down, listening to the hard beat of his heart, had listened to the harsh breath coming from his mouth. Just a moment and he would slip into the forest before the warriors could find him.

Only this morning he had been in the fields. This spring had started early. His father, Neil, had gone to the village to get a midwife. His mother was giving birth. His sisters were helping his mother through the pain. He could hear her groans outside as he tried to think of the planting. She was too old for this birthing. He knew she was going to die.

He had soothed the ox by touching its face and slapping his sides. Then he put his work-hardened hands on both handles of the plough.

“Get up,” he said.

He had not noticed the warriors as he concentrated on the first row. The ox walked at a slow pace as he held the plough in the soil. When he reached the end of the row, he turned the ox around for the next one. It was then he looked up. It was then that he saw them.

They had his young sister confined between two of them. “Come with us,” one said. “Come with us and we won’t hurt her.”

The soldiers didn’t lie. Not this time. If he didn’t go with them, they would hurt and rape her. Erik would still have been forcibly taken to his doom.

Farbiorn nodded to them. He unhooked the ox from the plough and led him to the small corral by the cabin. He waited for the warriors to let his sister go. She ran into the cabin. He saw his white-faced young brother watch as the warriors took him away.

It seemed like a dream. Even to save his family… could he look into that old man’s eyes? Glued to the rock, Farbiorn watched the warriors take the blindfold from the old man’s eyes. One eye had an empty socket. The other eye was a brilliant blue. He shuddered. His whole body became cold. He could feel that eye looking, looking, looking. There. He heard inside his head.

He is there.

This time the warriors tied him tightly. He could not move or blink. The old man looked deeply into Farbiorn’s eyes. Farbiorn had light blue eyes, but as the old man stared deep into Farbiorn’s eyes, his eyes changed to one empty socket and a blue eye. When he was finished, the old man had two light blue eyes.

The old man fell to the floor. His breathing slowed and then stopped. The warriors watched.

“It is done,” no-longer Farbiorn said. “I am Odin,”

He looked at the old man. “Get rid of this dead meat.” He turned and walked into the small cabin.

 

 

Billy the Kid – Thursday Promotion

billy the kid dissolveWhen I finished She Called It, Wolf, I should have (shoulda, woulda, coulda) started Dark Moon Rising, but I was a little burned out on the world. So when Billy jumped into my head, he was running through town totally naked with a herd of goats, I had to write his story with Betsy.

Yes, this novella is written in EJ’s world, a small town in Felony Flats, Nevada. Still I had a lot of fun writing this story.

Description: Betsy was the were-wolf pack’s legal representation. Her life was pretty boring and man-free until Billy trotted into her life. He was a shifter and he was ready to join the pack. There is only one problem Billy is a goat.

EJ Hunter and her mate Adam help Billy gain Betsy’s trust and when she is kidnapped, Billy is there to be her hero.

Amazon

Smashwords

This ebook is also on Kobo, iTunes, and Barnes & Noble.

Excerpt:

Betsy gazed out the window of her law office adjacent to the Sheriff’s office when she saw a nude man jogging down the main road towards the small community center and grocery store. The bright desert sun glinted off the highlights in his dark blonde hair; his arms, legs, and chest had well-defined muscles; and when he jogged by, she could see his butt-cheeks flex and bend. Grains of sand puffed under his feet.

“No way,” she said as she started on her paperwork. “I must be dreaming.” She sighed, “It has been too long.” She was the pack’s attorney and the last time she had been out with a man was in college before law school. It was not that she was a feminist. She didn’t hate men or the male body. She just didn’t have time for the care and feeding of a man.

Even so, her eyes drifted back to the window. Yes, she had not imagined it. There was a nude man standing near the door of the country store. It served as a grocery and department store in their small community. Thankfully you could find what you needed on the internet, if it wasn’t at the store.

The man looked uncertainly around him. His body had a light sheen of sweat mixed with the desert dirt. Then she saw what she had missed because her eyes were studying his body.

“Hell, no,” she said aloud as she observed a herd of goats jumping and running around the nude man. The Billy goat nudged the nude man towards the door. “Adam is going to shit his pants.”

 

Thursday promotion: Urban Werewolf #AmazonCart

My appointment went well yesterday. A little uptick with my creatinine levels for the kidneys, but since it is in the abnormal range for me, we aren’t too worried. Since I suspected that I had gout earlier this year, my doctor added a lab for uric acid. So far, so good. Back to your regular programming.

This particular ebook novella (about 10,000 words) was written about one of the characters from She Called It, Wolf. This is the story of Tina who is one of the ladies that helps EJ to adjust to living in Felony Flats and how she meets John.

When I was writing this particular novella, and since Tina and John were devoted in the first novel of the series, I felt that Tina had a secret. In this novella, not only do the two of them meet. John is a mechanic and Tina is a copier repair technician, but Tina’s secret is revealed.

As always, any mistakes in story and grammar are due to trying to think through chemo.

Description: John, a mechanic, meets Tina when she arrives at the shop to fix the copier machine in the office. For the first time in years, John is fascinated with this woman. There is something different about her that appeals to his werewolf heart. But Tina has secrets and when her son is kidnapped, John calls on the pack to rescue her son.

Amazon.com

Smashwords.com

Excerpt:

Chapter One

When John Harwood saw the small feet in the black work boots, he slid out from under the old rusty Ford pickup truck. Lying on the mechanic’s dolly, he looked up at long legs encased in work pants, his eyes followed a polo shirt neatly tucked into a trim waistline, and then lingered on her face. Her soft skin was darkened by the summer Reno sun. Her dark hair was layered around her face, showcasing startling violet eyes.

“Sir,” she said, her voice sharpened as she looked at him. “Where is the office? I have been wandering around this bay for fifteen minutes and I haven’t been able to find it.”

He had the sudden urge to lift the pickup and show off his muscles in front of this woman. Instead he stood up, wiped the grease off his hands and answered. “I’ll show you.

He could smell her instant attraction as he walked in front after after picking up her toolbox. She had made a slight sound and then let him carry her tools.

John was not a SNAG (sensitive new age guy), but he was a werewolf. Plus he had a sensitive nose. He grinned at the messages her body was sending him. He was only a few inches taller than she was, but he was built strong like a brick wall. He had a thick neck, large chest, and muscular arms. He worked hard and played hard. It showed in his confidence and power.

If he hadn’t smelled her attraction, he might not have noticed that she glanced at him under her eyelashes. So when he opened the door for her, he smiled at her, a wide-open smile that showed his appreciation. He could see a slight blush in her cheeks.

Shira: Hero of Corsindor – Promotion Thursday

Shira ebook coverThis was the first book I completed– I am ashamed to say, but I have several half written, half-started books sitting on my hard drive. I did a post recently on one that I am finishing “Into the Mists of Time.” It is a bad habit of mine to get to a certain spot, either a third of the way or half way through a novel, and get stuck. I had that problem for the entire life of Shira, until I accepted the Nanowrimo challenge.

More books have been written on that forced writing march than anywhere else in my humble opinion. When I finished, I realized I liked the book. I wrote the first few sentences when I was in Panama in 1992. I finished the book in Nevada in 2010 (or thereabout).

It is a book about love and hate, good and evil, and sacrifice. Shira leaves her place of honor to save an entire country including her people’s enemies.

Book Description: In the kingdom of Corsindor, the prince is lost and the king has gone crazy. The Queen has taken the reins of the kingdom, but there are forces already set in motion that will destroy everyone. And then there is Shira– a young girl who is expected to save the world.

Where you can find this book:

Amazon.com

Smashwords

You can also find it on B&N and trade paperback.

An excerpt:

Prologue

Rain struck the lead-glass window in staccato bursts. It struck with such force that it drowned out all living sound, even the clanking of solders walking the passageways on their daily rounds. Grayness seeped through the stones of the castle along with the cold wet damp. Darkness, brought by the rain, chilled the bones of adults and children alike.

In the midst of this war of elements, a newborn babe, lay in a small rocking cradle. His mother had just died in a last major effort to birth him. A nurse rocked the cradle, crooning.

″You, poor sweet thing.″ she said. She had promised the mother during this hard birth that she would save the baby. The mother insisted over and over that this baby was in danger.

Everyone knew that the woman who had married the king aspired to be a real queen, not a consort. It would be hard for a new woman to realize that she would always be unloved. Married, but unloved. But the mistress was dead. It was time to look after the child.

The nurse looked behind her, and then picked up the baby. Glancing to the right and left, she looked hard into the shadows. You never knew what or who could be listening. She shuddered. This child was the key to power.

Gently she wrapped him tightly in a soft warm blanket, and placed him in a crude wicker basket. She tucked a small quilt over the basket.

Walking slowly through the castle, she prayed that the child wouldn’t cry. But, he was silent. She wanted to reassure him, but he needed to stay hidden. No one must know that where he had gone. Her lips moved in a silent prayer as she walked through the hidden world of servants. She prayed that her arm would not give out.

The baby was heavy. The basket pressed against her forearm. No one must know what was in the basket. If she used her hand to steady the basket, some spy would be able to tell that she was not carrying bread. It must look effortless.

The nurse made it to the kitchen. In another moment, she would be gone. The tradesmen were at the door unloading the castle’s daily supplies. She slipped through them like a dark shadow, headed through the open gate, and stepped into the city.

She walked through the maze of the city, looking for a certain alley. It was just off the market square. It was long before she found the little shop. Beads and brocade covered the entrance. Incense burned, inviting the shopper to step inside and sample the exotic goods.

She walked in and said, “Kinsman, may I speak with you?” The man behind the counter went to the front door and locked it. He took her into the backroom.
An hour later the nurse was on her way back to the castle. The basket was gone.

***

The messenger found the newly wedded Queen standing by the window, gazing at the city. Her crimson dress draped across her tall slight frame. It emphasized her dark brooding eyes. Dark hair piled on top of her head completed this picture of stark beauty.

“The nurse is dead,” he said.

“And the baby?” She waited for his answer.

“The nurse hid him before we found her.”

“Find the baby,” she ordered. The death of the child was important for her plans.
The messenger’s eyes glowed red for an instant. Then, he faded into the shadows.

In the Shadow of Death- promotion

intheshadownewBecause May is Vasculitis month, I am promoting my medical biography about my diagnosis and treatment of Wegener’s Granulomatosis, a Vasculitis disease.

I was fortunate to have my disease diagnosed early. Many patients with this disease find that it takes years to be diagnosed and treated. It took me three months from the first symptom, red eyes, to my hospital stay with kidney failure to be diagnosed.

Since 2007 I have written about problems I have dealt with as a patient who has to take daily chemo and prednisone. The meds changed my body type. I wore a size fourteen for many years, which is a good size for a woman who is 5 foot 8 inches tall. With meds, I gained over sixty pounds. As you can see on the cover picture, I also sported the moon face, large stomach, and dowager’s hump from long-term prednisone use.

So this is my story, with the ups and downs, and the gallows humor that helped me survive. I have said before that without my husband I wouldn’t have survived the first two years of illness and medication side-effects. So if you want to know what happens when a person who has been in good health suddenly loses her health, this is the book for you.

Description:

In January 2003 I spent two weeks in a German hospital before I was diagnosed with Wegener’s Granulomatosis. This collection contains my journey through a chronic illness. This ebook was written as remembrance for Vasculitis month (May) and to all of those people who have lived with and died from a chronic illness.

Updated Second Edition in 2014.

Amazon.com

Smashwords

Also, you can get In the Shadow of Death and A Flicker of Hope combined in a trade paperback:

Amazon.com

 Excerpt:

Reflections on Hair Loss

I used to have long golden blonde hair. When I was young about eight years old, I fought my mother for my hair. She wanted to cut it into a bob. I wanted to grow it long. After a huge fight which included an intervention from my father, I had my hair.

As I grew older, every couple of years I would cut it to my chin and let it grow down my back. One year it grew to my waist. I had learned by then that my hair was extremely thick and full so I rather liked my hair a little shorter.
Also, my husband liked my hair. He would touch my hair touch the ends and caress it. He would roll it in his hands. It was fine and thick, and he liked the feel of it. I used to be amused by his enthusiasm for my hair.

But, as you know, life changes things. What changed my hair was Cytoxan. Cytoxan is the first chemo-drug found to treat cancer patients. For Wegener’s Granulomatosis patients, it stops the inflammation response by suppressing the immune system. Of course, there are side-effects.

I was in a hospital bed in a German hospital and one of the doctors came into my room.

“We have found your disease,” she said, as she set up the I.V. treatment that was going into my arm. “Are you ready?”

“What is it?” I asked.

“You weren’t prepared?” she asked. She proceeded to name the side effects, which included infertility and hair loss.

I panicked. She gave me about ten minutes to decide whether I wanted the treatment or not. I have to admit that I was more worried about the infertility. I didn’t realize how much my childhood training had affected me. I was not a woman if I could not have a child. I didn’t want a child, but there you go-

I realized that without the treatment I would not live. I wanted to live so I agreed. I cried, but I agreed.

Two days later as I brushed my hair, clumps of it fell into my hand. I tried to ignore it, but in a few days, my beautiful long blonde hair became thin and brittle. I cried. My hair had been my beauty and it was gone. I was brave. I tried to forget how the hair lightly covered my bald spot. I wore brightly covered hats that I knitted out of yarn. I hoped that I wouldn’t be on cytoxan forever.

Later, more like four years later, I am still on chemo-therapy (not cytoxan). My hair has grown back thick and curly instead of thick and straight. But, that beautiful gold color is gone. I am now a dark dirty blonde with few highlights.
I try to forget the beautiful mane that I lost. It is the price I pay to be alive.
I try not to cry about hair.

 

I’m a Flasher – #promotion #thursday

Imaflasher ebook coverI am a flasher, a fiction flasher.

When I think of flashing I remember when  a friend and I were in a small mall using pay phones. For those of you who don’t remember pay phones, there were usually four to six phones near the bathrooms. If you had enough quarters (the price had gone up from a dime to a quarter), you could call and talk to friends or family. The phones were always in use. We thought we were lucky when we found the phone area empty.

My friend and I were calling.  (no, cell phones hadn’t been invented yet,) when a man in a taupe coat, flashed us. Yes, he was standing there showing all of his private parts.

I was mortified. We got mall security, (yes, in the 80s there was mall security), but the flasher had left. The security guy walked us to our car. So yes, I am flashing my fiction today, but I won’t be flashing on street corners or by the bathrooms. That would be ewwwwwww.

So with no further fanfare, here is one of my flasher ebooks:

I’m a Flasher:

A collection of ten very very short shorts of the supernatural. The stories in this collection include “The Aliens are Here,” “Haunts at the Edge of Town,” “The Hunter,” “How to become a wizard,” “The Confession,” “A Choice,” “Under His Spell,” and “Road Trip.”

Amazon.com

Smashwords

 

An excerpt:

Under His Spell

When Anne needed time alone, she would get into her car and drive. Sometimes she would drive to the store and assuage her yearnings with retail therapy. Other times she would drive to Tahoe, park on the side of the road, roll down the window, and watch the animals, birds, people, and lake. Once the yearnings subsided, she would start the car and drive back to the house.

At two thirty her children would rush through the door, excited about school. She would pull out some milk and cookies, and then set them up for homework. Mark would come home around dinner time. Anne would get ready for work. Mark would give her a quick kiss and she was gone.

If Anne had time to explain what she yearned for, she would probably say that she needed alone time. Or maybe she would say that life had her by the throat. She didn’t know what she wanted. It was some nebulous thing that didn’t include husband, children, or survival.

As she stood behind the counter, helping folks check-in, Anne didn’t have time to feel that empty hole. Not until she saw a black-haired young man with a diamond earring, his arm around a girl with spiked hair. They didn’t seem to notice anyone around them as he kissed her.

Anne sighed.

It was three a.m. when Anne walked back to her car to go home. To her surprise the black-haired young man was sitting on the hood. He smiled at her. His canines looked slightly longer than normal, but it was hard to tell in the darkness.

She ignored him until he grabbed her wrist when she tried to turn the lock in the door. Anne looked into his eyes. “What do you want?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you today,” he answered. He pulled her closer to him. She pulled back.

“Here’s your chance,” he said. “To dance with the devil.”

This time she let him pull her close. In seconds his canines snapped out and he was drinking from her neck. It was the most sexual thing she had felt in a long time. Her yearnings died as she let him drink.

A few hours later her body was found drained of blood and decapitated. All that was left was the mourning