To end week one of the showcase tour, we turn the spotlight onto Jan Sikes, yet another amazing #RWISA #RRBC author. Jan has graciously offered the accompanying short story so that you can get a feeling for her work. Please check out her author page at the link below and find her works online. #RRBC is a tremendous tool for readers and writers to meet and find the best of #INDIE work out there.

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And now on to her story:

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

By Jan Sikes

Henry Jacobsen ran gnarled fingers through 84 years of living and swatted at a fly that buzzed around his head. The sun warmed his old bones and he turned to face his longtime friend. “You know, Aaron, what the world needs now, is for people to show a little more respect to each other. Back in my day, if I acted or talked disrespectful, I got my hide tanned.”

The wooden boards underneath Aaron’s rocker creaked in syncopated rhythm with his movement. “Yep, Henry. Times are different nowadays.”

Henry timed his chair rhythm with Aaron’s. “Before I came to stay here, I had a house over on Boulder Street. There was a family a few doors down that was always borrowing things from me, but somehow they never remembered to return any of them.”

Aaron nodded. “I’ve had it happen to me many times.”

“I pulled into the driveway one day just in time to see the oldest kid unscrewing my water hose. By the time I parked the car and got out, he had it slung over his shoulder.” Henry’s frown deepened. “It’s frustrating when you can’t move like you used to.”

He gazed across the green manicured lawn of the Post Oaks Retirement Center as if viewing some long-ago forgotten scene.

“Well?” Aaron prodded. “What did you do?”

“I hollered at him and asked what in the world he thought he was doing. And you know what he had the nerve to say to me?” Henry screwed up his face.

“Nope.”

“He said that he was taking my water hose so he could wash his motorcycle.”

“Don’t that beat all? Aaron clicked his tongue. “Didn’t even bother to ask you.”

“I saw red. I lit into him like nobody’s business,” he growled. “The nerve. Take a man’s things like they meant nothing.”

Aaron shifted to take the weight off his bad hip. “There was a day when I would’ve jumped a guy for pulling a stunt like that. But those times are over for me. At this point, I’m doin’ good just to make it from the bed to the bathroom without embarrassing myself.”

“Yeah, me too. But, I tell you, I didn’t take it lying down. I told him what a rotten, no good, worthless human being he was and that he’d better put the water hose down or I’d call the cops and turn him in for stealing.”

“What did he do then?”

“He laughed in my face…told me I was too old to use the damn water hose anyway and he needed it.”

“Why, the nerve!”

“I marched myself inside and called the cops. When they came, I gave them a list of everything they had so-called borrowed and said I wanted it all back.”

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah. In pieces. The weed eater was battered and wouldn’t start. My shovel was broken in half. The water hose was split in two pieces. All of it was in shambles. Just no respect. That’s what the world has come to.”

Silence spun a web between the two old-timers who’d seen more than a lifetime of battles.

“I remember when I was in the Army. Nobody ever pilfered in someone else’s belongings. I did two tours overseas, fighting for this country and now I have to wonder what for.” Henry’s voice trembled. “The way folks carry on is a shame. Just no regard for one another.”

Aaron halted the rocker and leaned forward. “You’re right, Henry. The mess things are in is downright disgraceful. Take for instance the presidential election. Now, I can’t say I agree with the candidate who won, but for people to go out and tear stuff up, turn on friends and family who voted for him, and get consumed with hatred is ridiculous. No one is willing to bend.”

“Never saw anything like it,” Henry agreed. “I remember when John F. Kennedy won the election in 1960. People spoke out against him because he was catholic. But, they weren’t filled with the kind of hatred they are today. It pains me to think about what kind of society our grandkids are growing up in. For old geezers like ourselves, it don’t really matter all that much. We’re on our way out.”

“Dinosaurs. Men like us with backbone and decency are disappearing just like those prehistoric creatures did. I’d sure like to see something that would give me hope for the future. Hope for our country.” Aaron’s rheumy eyes glistened.

Henry pushed up from the rocker and stretched. It troubled him more than he could say that his grandchildren were growing up in these unstable times. A tired old man needs salve for his weary soul.

Just as he was about to shuffle inside, he saw his grandson, Micah, bounding across the lawn.

Micah waved. “Hi, Grandpa.”

Henry waved back.

Breathless, Micah reached the two men. “Hey, Gramps, look at this beautiful spring day. How about I bust you out of here and we go fishing?”

Henry chuckled. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.” He turned to Aaron and winked. “There’s our hope. This young man knows how to respect his elders.”

With that, he joined his grandson. It didn’t escape his notice that Micah slowed his steps to match his grandfather’s or that he held the door while they went inside.

Respect. That’s what Micah demonstrated.

And, it’s precisely the healing the world now needs.

On the sixth day of the Watch #RWISA Write Showdown Tour, let us put the spotlight on another great #RRBC author, namely Wendy Scott. Take a look at her #RWISA profile at this link:

Wendy has provided a short story for your reading pleasure. If you enjoy it, we hope you will search out her work online.

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Navigator by Wendy Scott

Luke’s body whirled through the portal in a kaleidoscope of starlight and rainbows. Burnt ozone stung his nostrils, and his stomach roiled as if live dragonflies flitted inside. He clutched his grandfather’s palm tighter, the only connection anchoring them together while they spun into the void, guided by the compass in his grandfather’s other hand.

“We’re here.” His grandfather’s words whistled with wheeziness.

He released Luke and turned away, pocketing the compass, but his old man’s movements weren’t quick enough to hide the tremors or his shortness of breath.

A mountain breeze, tinged with smoke ruffled the tussock grasses underfoot. In the valley below, Luke pinpointed a chimney on a cluster of shacks beside fenced paddocks. Had the old man’s sense of direction faded and cast them adrift?

“Follow me.” His grandfather rolled his shoulders back, lifted his head high, and led the descent.

Mindful of their journey’s mission doubt dragged at Luke’s feet. At only twelve, would he be found worthy? He didn’t want to think about his grandfather’s declining health if their bid was rejected.

Metallic scent tainted the air as they skirted past the dwellings; a one-room cottage, barn, and a smithy. Orange coals smoldered on the forge, hammers, and tongs lined up in military precision, but the pockmarked leather apron hung empty from a hook on the open door.

Without pause, his grandfather guided Luke out the back to the horse corrals. A bear of a man with arms like anvils leaned against the fence. Leather pants and knee-high boots sheathed his legs, but his chest was bare except for a star patterned tattoo, staining his chest muscles indigo and cobalt. At their approach his head swiveled, snaring the pair with a deep ocean gaze. Dryness etched Luke’s throat.

“Navigator, so many years have passed, I feared you would not return.”

Luke’s grandfather bowed his head. “Farrier, events have been unkind, but I keep my promises. My grandson had agreed to assume the responsibility in the place of his father who died when he was a babe.”

The men spoke as if Luke were a phantom, but he remained silent, remembering his grandfather’s instructions only to speak when asked a direct question by the otherworld farrier.

Grass scented warmth huffed through Luke’s hair. A midnight coated horse towered above his head. A white star marked the stallion’s forehead.

Luke clambered up the railings, but he still had to stretch to trail his fingertips along the horse’s snout. His breath caught when he gazed into the depths of the creature’s starlight eyes.

Firm fingers clasped Luke’s shoulder, and the farrier bowed towards the steed.  “Kasper approves of you. Come inside.”

The temperature in the smithy scorched the hairs inside Luke’s nose, and sweat trickled beneath his tunic, but the farrier worked the bellows until the coals combusted into flames. Next, he sprinkled a handful of sand into the hearth, and the fire danced into violet and malachite hues.

“You understand, old friend, without the enchantment your life span will be reduced to mortal years?”

My grandfather nodded.”These old bones grow weary, and the pathways are becoming muddled. My time is past. Luke is young, but he is pure of heart. ”

The farrier studied his friend for a moment before he reached out with his palm. “Navigator, of your own free will do you relinquish your powers to your grandson?”

The old man answered by dropping his compass into the farrier’s outstretched hand. “I do.”

The farrier’s otherworld stare scrutinized the boy, and although the being didn’t touch him, a prickling sensation rippled up Luke’s spine. After several heartbeats, the farrier inclined his head. “Your soul is free of darkness, but perhaps you are too young yet for any temptations to have challenged your values.”

“He’s a good lad. I vouch for him and will guide his path.” His grandfather squeezed Luke’s shoulder.

Calloused fingers gripped Luke’s chin. “Are you sure you want this? It’s not too late to back out and live a normal life. Be warned, once you accept you are bound for life. Each time you enter here seeking my help a non-negotiable toll must be paid.”

Before crossing over doubts had plagued Luke’s thoughts, but after tasting magic, he couldn’t settle for a dull life on the farm when his world had been opened to the lure of other realms.

Luke moistened his lips. “Navigator blood runs in my veins. I’m young, but I’m ready.”

The farrier released him. “Do I have your solemn vow you will only guide your passengers by the way of the light?”

Heart thundering, Luke focused on the compass. “I swear I’ll follow the true pathways.”

Light glinted off the chain as the farrier dangled the compass into the sparking coals. “Hold out your hand.”

Luke flinched, expecting his skin to sizzle when it touched the metal, but the compass was cool. He didn’t feel any different. Had the transfer worked?

The farrier clasped forearms with the older man. “You owe me one last favour, but I will redeem what’s due at another time.”

“As always it will be an honour to serve.” Luke’s grandfather stepped away.

“Navigator, peer into the fire.”

Several moments passed before Luke responded to his new title. Within the flames, he spied a young woman’s face, whose striking features seared into his memory.

“One day she will seek your skills, and when she does you must bring her to me.” The farrier crossed his arms.

Questions burned in Luke’s mind, but he’d been schooled on the protocols, so he suppressed his curiosity, and lowered his eyes. “As you command.”

The farrier ushered them into the yard and bid them farewell. “Keep your promises, follow the light and your direction will always be true.”

Outside Luke paused, blinking. A glittering path lit the way up to the portal.

Unshed tears gathered in his grandfather’s eyes. “The navigator’s sight is now hidden from me.”

Grasping the compass in one hand, Luke held out his other hand. “Come grandfather, I will guide you home.”

***

(Navigator is a prelude and companion scene to Fire Hooves – yet to be released by Wendy Scott).

Today we celebrate

Click on her name to learn more about this inspiring author and proud member of #RRBC and #WRISA. Yvette has provided this poem of hers so you can discover her talent and learn more about her on the link above.

Words

By Yvette M Calleiro

The written word and I

Are cherished friends,

Embracing each other’s thoughts and emotions

Like kindred spirits,

Dancing on clouds.

Bosom buddies who gossip and giggle

And gasp at all the same moments.

She and I are equals,

More than that, really.

We are two parts of a whole,

Complementing and complimenting the other,

Perfect beings.

The spoken word and I

Skirt around each other’s social circles.

We stumble around awkward pauses,

Unable to pull the perfect word or phrase

From our filing cabinet of knowledge.

Ease and grace flee without a moment’s notice.

She is more skilled than I.

She whispers her intricately woven ideas into my mind,

But her delicate strength is no match for

The hills of anxiety and the mountains of insecurity

That obstruct her path to freedom.

Before her words can reach my tongue,

They unravel into shreds of confusion,

Left unspoken.

If only the written word and the spoken word

Could meet…

They would live in perfect harmony.

But alas…

It is not meant to be,

Neither willing to leave her domain,

Each content to dance alone,

And I…

I am stuck in the middle,

Pulled in both directions,

Reveling in the comfort of the written word,

Needing the spoken word to survive.

But still I dream

Of the day when my words will intermingle

And a new love affair can be born.

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There is still time to sign up for the #RaveReviewsBookClub 2017 Writers’ Conference and Book Expo. You know you want to be part of this truly amazing experience. As a #RRBC member, I can tell you this group of readers and writers is very supportive and welcoming. Sign up today.

Click here for general information

Click here to learn about pricing and packages (it is very reasonable!!!).

You do not want to miss it! I really look forward to seeing you at the conference and as part of this wonderful family of friends.

Back in February, I was interviewed on #RRBC Blog Spot Radio’s Spotlight Honors. If you are interested in hearing me discuss my writing, and my novel, Whistlestop, please give a listen. As always, please let me know what you thought.

Here is the link.

The #RaveReviewsBookClub is the place to be if you are a writer or avid reader of #INDIE books. Check them out! You will not be disappointed.

All the best!

It is almost time for the 2017 Rave Reviews Book Club Writers’ Conference and Book Expo. If you love to write and want to hone your craft, this is the place to do it. If you love to read, at the Expo you can connect with new writers who will expand your imagination and enliven your reading.

Learn about the conference here.

Learn about registration here.

And please register here.

The #RaveReviewsBookClub is an amazing group of highly supportive readers and writers. This is your opportunity to become part of the best. I hope to meet you there in October.

If you have the chance, get your copy of Tears of Gallia now. It is free this week (6/12-6/16) on Kindle. Enjoy!

If you read it, please consider a review or drop me a line to let me know what you thought!

I am doing a couple of giveaways on Tears of Gallia, book four in the Dave Brewster science fiction series, so I thought I’d delve into that story a bit. The cover is one of my favorites created by Ron Calica, a graphic artist who did several covers for me. It depicts the meeting between our hero and Fa-u-Bay, the greatest hero in Gallicean history. Dave is standing on the moon Solander, one of the two main moons orbiting the gas giant Lubna. The other moon in the distance is Fistan, an earthlike world.

The planet and its moons have significance because of who Fa-u-Bay was. He was a priest from long ago when the Galliceans were violent conquerors and empire builders. Fa-u-Bay lived on the planet Gallicea. When the then emperor of Gallia decided to slaughter the humans living on a nearby planet, Fa-u-Bay raised an army to fight back. Even though they were heavily outnumbered, the priest and his soldiers prevailed. Fa-u-Bay was immediately made emperor. The bloodstains on his hands overwhelmed him though. He took a new starship and crew and left Gallia to repent for his sins. There was an engine problem and the ship raced out of control. When they managed to regain control, they were beyond the edge of the galaxy, approaching a single planetary system adrift in open space. That system was dominated by the gas giant, which they named Lubna after a famous mythological mother. Hence, the Daughters of Lubna.

Tears of Gallia is a wide-ranging story, focusing on friendship, faith and courage. It is action-packed. If you like time travel and space battles, I think you will like it. If you get a chance to read it, please let me know what you think. #RRBC

My writing style could be considered “stream of consciousness”. As my fingers work the keyboard, new ideas flood into my mind and often I find I have discovered plot lines that even surprise me!

#SPOILERALERT Much of 2121: Twilight’s Last Gleaming sees our heroes battling cannibals. That battle reaches its crescendo at the end when they are faced with a massive armed of crazed, tattooed, half-naked killers. As I was dreaming this all up, I wondered how cannibalism could have taken root in any America or any modern country. It definitely is not a main-stream concept. Then it hit me: global warming! Now this is a stretch, but it is fiction after all. In my home state of California, the government has already made cattle flatulence a climate change issue. Now, if governments view livestock as a key source of greenhouse gases, why would they not move to eliminate beef and pork from our diets? If that same government was also bankrupt, how could they pay for imported meat? I suppose you could presume all people move to vegetarianism, but that would not provide the same levels of disgust and opportunities to fight.

Another tidbit relates to the Mexican border. We all know the commotion regarding the desire of the president to build a wall. Well, I took a different tilt on this. Since the America in this book has descended into chaos, it is Mexico who built the wall to keep us out! That flip-flop made me laugh when it first crossed my mind. If you read 2121, I hope you will enjoy the irony.

I will be doing a promotion on Amazon in the near future to get as many new readers as possible. If you have joined the Adventurers Club or follow this blog, you will be the first to know when. A special shout out to my friends at #RaveReviewsBookClub!

Friends, it is almost that time again. If you are a reader or writer, this is the place to be! Sign up now and get discounted rates. Here is your chance to join the great #RRBC crew and sharpen your writing chops, or get the word out about your work. If you are a reader, it is your chance to meet an amazing group of super-supportive writers.

#RaveReviewsBookClub is the home of the best #INDIE writers. I will see you during the week of October 22. Follow this link for all the details.