Book Review: BLOOD BROTHERS by R. Weir

Jarvis Mann is on the case again. This time he finds himself called back to his childhood home of Des Moines, Iowa. Unfortunately, he is there to confirm his sister in law’s suspicions that his older brother Flynn is stepping out on her. It seems Flynn also carries the “infidelity gene” Jarvis struggles against in his efforts to stay true to his lady love Melissa.

     Back in his home town, memories of his youth come flooding back. We get to know our hero more intimately through flashbacks from his childhood. We get to see how Jarvis was saved from going down the wrong path by some tough love from his father and a caring cop friend. Knowing his family and background lend depth to this already familiar character.

     Jarvis has real love and respect for his sister-in-law, Helen and niece Jolene and when Flynn’s attempts to chase the big score put them in danger, it is up to Jarvis to uncover the truths and keep them safe. A case that begins as simple quickly gets complex and deadly. As the body count rises, Jarvis must call in favors from everyone he knows; from local Des Moines PD and the FBI to his “less than legal” connections in Denver and even his old acquaintance, Rocky, the Enforcer. This time it’s personal.

     R. Weir has a real knack for storytelling. Jarvis is a guy you might know or at least run into in a bar. His quick wit and sarcastic one liners are charming and reminiscent of old gum shoes like Sam Spade. The men underestimate him and the ladies love him. The way this story builds from simple to complex is wonderfully done. The twists and turns of the narrative all make sense even as the story grows. And the ending is something I did not see coming but found most satisfying.  

Sandra Boutwell-Falcone

    

The Author Speaks: Better Late than Never, I suppose

I have been so busy working on Marabella's next adventure that I completely forgot to post here last month. I wrote a post. I just never got around to posting.  So, here is my November/Thanksgiving post, just in time for Christmas.

     As we head into the holiday season, the debates begin about the appropriate time to begin decorating for Christmas, what retail stores will be open on Thanksgiving Day and how to survive the onslaught of family pressure during this season. Social media is loaded with holiday recipes and political rants to go along with the amusing kitten videos. I would like to concentrate on Thanksgiving.

     For my friends around the world, I do realize that Thanksgiving is a uniquely American holiday. And we Americans do love our holidays. The history of this holiday as told to grammar school children all over our country goes thus: At harvest time, the Pilgrims, early settlers of our country, and the Native Americans came together in peace for a great feast. Everyone contributed, bringing food for a large communal meal. It was the first recorded pot luck. Those present were thankful for the friendship and for the sharing of the food.

     In today’s American society of retail and excess, Thanksgiving has been reduced to one big meal, several football games, a couple of parades and lots of shopping. It’s sad really. There are still families who come together and talk about the things that make them thankful. Unfortunately there are too many others who come together to bicker and shop.

     I would like to tell you the things for which I am thankful. I am thankful for my husband, the kindest, most patient man I know. His willingness to support my dream of being a writer weighs heavily but he never complains. I am thankful for this ridiculously flawed but still free country. I am thankful for you gentle reader. Though you may be few, I appreciate each and every one of you who read my words. You give me purpose.

MARABELLA SPEAKS ABOUT BULLIES

The Author asked me to write this month about bullies. I have experience with bullies. Anyone who has read her book about me knows that Wesley and I (mostly Wesley) got teased and tormented a lot when we were children. But it’s not only children who suffer from being bullied.

Bullies come in all shapes, sizes, and ages. Some use the obvious tactics of physical abuse of someone smaller or often younger. However, in your world, bullies have more sinister ways of torturing others. A bully is no longer the oversized brute who shoves you to the ground. With all the technology you possess, bullies operate from afar and use their words to inflict pain on others.

Bullies, in general, seem to have self-esteem issues. They must, of course. Why else would they feel the need to abuse or tear down someone who cannot or will not fight back. Bullies in your world are so much worse. Some attack for the pleasure of being able to do so without fear of reprisal. Your internet is full of these mean spirited little people. And where the oversized brute in the school yard has his minions, who blindly follow him and pile on whenever he attacks, your internet bullies needs no such companions. It seems that there are always those who are just waiting to jump on and add their harsh judgements and abusive comments, often without knowing the true situation and always without thinking of the consequences for those being attacked.

If I, Marabella, daughter of Mara and Geremiah, am attacked by a bully, I can defend myself. I find a precisely thrown rock or well-placed kick to the head can disarm and dissuade further abuse. With your internet, there are no such options. Any rebuttal from the one targeted is too often met with more criticism and abuse. And the little bullies just keep piling on with more and more mean comments. It is quite sad, cowardly, and terribly shameful.

The Author told me of an incident she recently witnessed. A small local business was targeted by an internet bully with too much time on her hands. She criticized the way this business operated and made inflammatory remarks about a staff member. In no time at all, there were dozens of little bullies bashing the business and the staffer with things unrelated and completely out of context. When the business issued a comment, the bullies attacked like a pack of wild dogs. The attempt to address actual concerns was met with more inflammatory remarks and criticism. Finally, some supporters rallied to defend the staffer and the business. But damage had been done. This type of damage effects the small business and the staff member. It can affect their income, which effects their ability to pay rent and provide for their families. I have also heard of too many instances of bullying that resulted in the targeted person becoming so upset and despondent that they actually harm themselves. That is so sad.

I guess what I really want to say is DON’T BE A BULLY! And please do not support those small minded tyrants by adding to a tirade that you know little or nothing about. Do stick up for those being bullied whether in person or on the internet.

Excerpt from Quest for Magics

HERE'S A TASTE OF MARABELLA'S NEXT ADVENTURE.

 

Belle neared Falls Bridge. “I need to stop and get some supplies to replace the things I gave to the men in the woods.” She wordlessly communicated to Sebastian. She could sense his presence as he skirted the village. “There’s a tavern on the north side of the bridge.”

Sebastian’s deep purring voice sounded in her mind. “I will have to find a place to cross the river. I will meet you on the north side. You may linger for a time if you like. Traveling at night is preferable, at least until we get into the wilds. I would like to hunt before we leave the river. I enjoy the fat fish that swim here and it will be some time before we reach better hunting grounds.”

“Agreed. I will meet you north of the tavern just after dusk.”

“Agreed.” Belle could feel Sebastian pull his mind back to his task of finding a good place to fish. Though he no longer directed his thoughts to her, she could still sense his presence. She touched the ring on her finger still amazed at the increase in her power. 

She dismounted and walked Bess toward the bridge. Koros’ guards milled around the bridge stopping some travelers, waving others through.

“Who are you and what’s your business to the north?” A mush mouth guard with tight curly hair and dark skin grabbed an old man by the jacket.

The old man seemed annoyed. “I come across this bridge every day. Where’s Simon? He knows me. My daughter cooks at the tavern. She’s making beans with smoked pork today.”

“Simon’s been reassigned. He got too chummy with folks. Went soft.” He shoved the old man against the railing. “Now what’s your name?”

“I’m Aravor.” The old man grumbled, trying to shake off the guard’s grasp. “I’ve lived here all my life.”

The guard shoved Aravor again, harder this time. “Aravor. That sounds like a Demalion name to me.” He cracked a cruel smile.

As Aravor began to struggle against the guard, Belle approached. “Aravor. Good day. I hear it’s beans with smoked pork today. Shouldn’t we get going?” She smiled as though everything was fine.

The guard released Aravor to bar Belle’s progress across the bridge. She gave him a sweet smile. “Good day.” He looked down his nose at her.

“Who are you and what’s your business?” He barked in her face.

Belle stepped close to the guard. She touched his arm and looked up into his dark eyes. He was caught in the power of her emerald gaze. “I’m going across with Aravor to have beans and pork at the tavern.” She stated brightly. Leaning in she added “and you need to be kinder to the people who cross this bridge.”

“Move along then.” The guard waved Belle and Aravor through. “Good day Aravor.” He smiled.

Belle led Bess across the bridge falling into step with the old man. “I don’t know what you said to him, but thank you.” Aravor smiled at Belle. “There’s getting to be more guards every day. Say they’re here to protect us from the Demalions but never needed no protection before. Never had no trouble with Demalions before…which is more than I can say for the guards.” Aravor ambled inside while Belle tied Bess to a post by the water trough.

Entering the tavern Belle spied Aravor standing at the end of the bar speaking with a plump girl wearing a stained apron. There were several tables of hungry patrons already hovering over bowls of hot beans. Three men stood at the bar chatting over tankards of ale. A tall woman in a faded blue dress and white apron delivered plates of hard bread to the tables. A boy poked at the fire in the large fireplace and added wood. A hooded figure sat hunched over a tankard at a table in the back, his face turned to the wall. Belle sensed a familiarity about him. Her inspection was interrupted when Aravor approached with two bowls and a plate of bread. “Here’s yours.” He smiled. “You did tell the guard we was havin’ beans and pork. Nobody makes ‘em better than my Trudy.” He nodded toward the plump cook who was headed back to the kitchen. “Got to git here early though, whilst there’s still meat in ‘em. Tavern owner is a good man. Lets Trudy feed me as part of her wages.” The old man gestured to a nearby table and Belle followed.

As she sat down, she noticed the hooded figure sneaking a look in her direction. Belle reached out with her mind and caught a stray thought from him. “Belle”.

He knows me. She thought.

But Aravor’s lively chatter distracted her again. “I told Trudy to do us up right. She put a slab of butter on the bread for us. Makes it softer, since I ain’t got many teeth left.” He grinned widely revealing a gummy smile. “Horse kicked me years back and knocked out the front ones. Had to pull a few more when they went bad.” Belle chucked. He placed the bowls on the table. They were filled with creamy brown beans and several chunks of smoked pork so tender you could cut it with a spoon.  “Been a while since I had a meal with a young lady.” Aravor grinned at her again. “Where you traveling to?”

Belle looked at the sparse gray hair pulled back in a ponytail and the scraggly beard that covered half his wrinkled face. She saw kindness and honesty in his pale blue eyes. “I’m meeting up with some friends to take a long journey.”

He gave a wink. “Yeah, some of my friends ain’t so welcome in town anymore either.” He looked around to see who might be listening. “This Koros has stirred up a whole mess where there just ain’t no need. Magics…no magics…who cares?” The door opened and one of the bridge guards walked in. He looked around the room and walked up to the bar.

Belle quickly changed the subject. “So Aravor. That is an unusual name.”

“I’s named after a storybook dragon, if you believe it.” He giggled.

“A dragon? Really?” Belle was intrigued.

“Yep.” Aravor continued. “Now I don’t have much education. I do read a bit. My Pa, he couldn’t read none. But my Ma, she read everything she could git her hands on. She passed on when I was a little nubbin. Anyhow, she named me for the great dragon in a story she read.”

“The Great Dragon?” Belle raised her eyebrows and peered over at the guard who was busy with a bowl at the bar. “The Great Dragon in the Demalion stories?” She whispered.

“Yep.” Aravor grinned proudly. “Truth is dragons ain’t real anyhow. And if they was, they wouldn’t have names.” He laughed.

“But it is a fine name, just the same.” Belle smiled at her companion. The old man kept up a lively conversation during the meal. When he scraped the bottom of his bowl, Belle pushed the remains of her bowl over to him. “I can’t eat another bite.” She assured him. He proceeded to dig in. “You said you’ve lived here your whole life, so I’d wager you know everyone.”

“Yep. If they be local, I likely know ‘em. We do git a fair amount of travelers though, cause this bridge is the only safe way to cross the river for miles. Don’t git as many as we used to.”

“Do you happen to know that fellow in the hood?”

Aravor shot a look toward the back table. “He ain’t from here. Been here since yesterday, strange fella. The servin’ girl, Agnes, told Trudy he’s all scarred up. That why he keeps that hood a’coverin his face. Says he talks funny. But he’s got coin and don’t cause no trouble so she don’t care a whit.” He pushed the second empty bowl away and leaned back in his chair. “I better head back home. I feel a nap comin’ on.” He slipped the remaining piece of bread into his pocket. “You and your friends be careful now.” He gave her a wink and slipped out the door, waving to his daughter behind the bar.

Belle approached the cook. “Trudy, how much for meal?” She pulled a few coins from her front pocket.

“On me.” Trudy smiled. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back in a long braid. Her round face was red from the heat of kitchen and her pale blue eyes, much like her father’s, were kind. “You did my Pa a kindness. Least I can offer is a meal. Hope he didn’t talk your ear off.”

“Thank you, Trudy. And no. I enjoyed the company.” The door opened again and several patrons poured in. Trudy nodded and went back to work. When Belle turned she noticed that most of the tables were full. She made her way to the back, concentrating on the hooded figure alone at the corner table.

10 QUESTIONS WITH AUTHOR BRIAN RATHBONE

   Born in the garden state to a quaint New Jersey farm, author Brian Rathbone enjoys working with horses as much as a good dragon joke. Brian grew up to join the world of corporate America. One day, while reading DILBERT, he decided he needed a change. Brian started working from home where he finally found time to write down a story that had been growing in his mind for over a decade. That day an epic series was born, The World of Godsland. 

  I first found Brian on Twitter, where he shares his witticisms and dragon jokes. I downloaded CALL OF THE HERALD, the first in The World of Godsland series, and devoured it in an afternoon. Over the next three days, I read the entire nine book series. This series is filled with magic, sacrifice, war, loyalty, and of course, dragons. Brian has also adapted his Godsland characters into a children's series, THE LOST DRAGONS, for young children.

 
I am so pleased that fantasy author Brian Rathbone took time out of his busy schedule to answer a few questions.

     1.  What made you choose to write in this genre?

There was never any question for me. Fantasy fiction is what I love to read and what I am passionate about. I do also enjoy Science Fiction, and sometimes I blur the lines, like many great fantasy writers before me.

2    2.  Who influenced you growing up?

I grew up on a working horse farm with four generations of my family. I was taught by my parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents and great grandparents. And I got to work with my brother and cousins. I consider myself very lucky to have had this experience, even if I didn’t always feel this way.

3     3.   When did you know you were a writer?

When I finished writing my first trilogy and had it edited by a professional editor, I began to feel like a real writer. It was only after I had sold about 50,000 books that I started to feel like an author. Being contacted by major literary agencies solidified that feeling.

4    4.   What inspires you?

My deep love of reading fantasy fiction is what inspired me to write, but I draw inspiration from many sources: nature and my childhood experiences are chief among them.

5     5.  Do you have a process? If so, what is it?

I walk and take notes until the story is clear in my mind. Then I create a rough outline that I later discard at will. Next, I write with wild abandon. I write without worry or fear. My goal is to get the ideas out of my head and onto the page. Afterward, I let the manuscript sit for a couple weeks while I start my next book. When I have some distance from the book, I use text-to-speech to have it read back to me. I let the audio set the pace and I follow along. When I have edited it to my best ability, I usually send it to beta readers. After addressing their feedback, I send it to my professional editor: Andrea Howe. When I get her edits, I review them and address any issues. Then Andrea does one more read through to check my changes. After that, it’s ready to publish. Whew!

6     6.  Beyond children’s picture books, what is the first real book you remember reading?

A Wrinkle In Time was the first book I ever enjoyed reading, and I credit Madeleine l'Engle with fueling my love of reading.

      7.   What is the hardest part of the writing/publishing process for you?

Editing. Oh…and editing. Did I mention editing?

      8.  What are you currently working on?

For the first time since 2005, I’m writing a book for the purpose of traditional publication. While at Balticon, I was approached by the president of a world-class literary agency. I look forward to achieving my goal of becoming a hybrid author—one who is both self-published and traditionally published. Dragon Airways is a distant prequel to the Godsland series, and I can’t wait to bring it to the world.

      9.  Do you have any advice for other writers?

Write on! If you want to be a writer, don’t let anyone discourage you. People told me to give it up for years—including people who love me very much. They were wrong. Thank goodness I believed in myself and my story and I persisted. Follow your heart. If you will only be happy with a traditional book deal, then go after it. If you want to retain total control, then self-publishing may suit you better. Stick with it even when it gets hard, which it will. If you want to know how I got to where I am, consider checking out my book on audience building and book marketing. http://bit.ly/howbriandidit

    10.   What is one thing you would like your readers to know about you?

I’m just a regular guy. I started out as a complete unknown. It is only through the support of my readers that I have become well-known. And it will be those same readers who propel me into traditional publication. Thank you. Without all of you, I would still be working in the corporate world, for which I lacked true passion.

1     BONUS QUESTION: Are you sure you aren’t a Cylon? (Because you seem to work like a machine…and I saw this picture on FaceBook…just checking.)

I am not a cylon. If you would like to discuss this further, please meet me in the airlock.

Here's all the places you may find Brian.

Website: http://brianrathbone.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/brianrathbone

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WorldOfGodsland

Amazon

Google Play

iTunes

Audible

Barnes and Noble

JOSEPH W. BECK

6/18/15 

My Dear Joseph,

How can I say goodbye to you?

My heart is broken. Memories of you flood my mind, disjointed and soaring, like loose pages caught in the wind. 

We have been friends for so long. We started out as family, brought together by someone else’s union. That was not to last but their dissolution could not break our bond.  I remember high school sock hops and driving around half the night in that old B210. 

Working together at Ted’s Catfish Inn, we cooked, washed dishes, and smoked out back. I wonder if our names are still carved in that wall.

 You took me to Junior Prom. White tux with tails…oh yea, 1981!

Mother told me you cried at my first wedding. You told her he wasn’t good enough for me. You were right.

We picnicked at the lake. So many lakes and so many picnics. 

Our special place, the camp on Lake Bistineau, was my favorite. I still have pictures of you dancing around the burning remains of my marriage license after my first divorce. We celebrated for a week.

Don’t make me say goodbye to you.

You took me to sketchy bars when I was 16 so we could dance, dance, dance. Being with you gave me confidence.  

 I loved our times at the farm. Such wonderful weekends of cooking great food and watching movies. The fireworks brushfire was fun. Pouring drinks, smoking pot, dreaming up plots; wonderful lost weekends. 

We talked of traveling when we were kids. Later I lived vicariously through you. You did the traveling. We made up stories for fun. I ended up the writer. 

You were there for me that awful week that Daddy died, pulling me away from the funeral home and driving the backroads, like when we were kids. You were there when I buried Mom, such a dark day.

You were supposed to tutor me in math but we never studied. That was our movie day. We saw Gone with the Wind on the big screen, so much fun after a bottle of Asti. You were the only person who could get me to see horror. We giggled all the way through one of the Omen movies.  

I remember people watching with you and making up stories about the people we saw. I still do that, only now I sometimes put the people in my books. 

Why would I say goodbye to you? I have loved you my whole life. Even those times when we lived our lives and didn’t connect for months or even years, you were still My Dear Joseph. You were the first person outside my family who told me I was beautiful. You were the first guy to buy me jewelry.

We were supposed to grow old together and have lots of nieces and nephews and grandpuppies. We were supposed to drive our spouses to distraction with our stories and our love affair of the heart.

I will not say goodbye to you. You are just on another of your wild and wonderful adventures. You can tell me all about it the next time we meet. Just know I love you

Always,

Sandra