Monday, January 18, 2021

Sleighed: A Christmas Tale #ShortStory by Award-Winning @WendyJayneScott #NewRelease #Free

 Hello, beautiful readers! Christmas may be over, but a cute Christmas story is enjoyable at any time of the year. Please join me in welcoming award-winning author Wendy Scott as she shares with you her newest short story, Sleighed! It is free from January 18-22 on Amazon. 

Thanks, Yvette. In March 2019, my sister (who lives in Canada), visited me in New Zealand, and we embarked on a memory tour. We revisited places from our childhood, including Queenstown, where our grandmother used to live.

Our great-grandfather had been an engineer on the iconic century-old coal fired steamship, the TSS Earnslaw, back in the day when it transported stock and supplies across Lake Wakatipu. We enjoyed a delightful sunny cruise to Walter Peak High Country Farm.

During our travels, we set a challenge, to each write a 1500 word story. I chose to write a Children’s Christmas story, based on a writing prompt from my Aspiring Author Series, and that’s how, ‘Sleighed’, came to be created.

I have already read this story and can tell you that it's wonderful! Wendy takes a different take on the world of the North Pole, and I loved it. I hope you will pick up your copy of Sleighed this week, especially since it is FREE from January 18-22!

And while you're add it, get to know Wendy Scott a little better!

About Wendy:

Wendy Scott has a New Zealand Certificate in Science (Chemistry), which allows her to dabble with fuming potions and strange substances, satisfying her inner witch.

Wendy writes short stories, fantasy, and children’s novels. Her books have won multiple awards.

One of the creeds she lives by is to always – Live a life less ordinary!

Full book list

Amazon Universal Link


Connect with Wendy:

Children’s Websites








Wednesday, January 6, 2021

BOOK TOUR DAY 17! GHOSTLY INTERFERENCE #romance #ghost #newrelease @jansikes3

Hello, beautiful readers! I am excited to share with you an award-winning indie author, Jan Sikes. I have read several of her stories and have loved them all. Today, she will share with you her newest release. Take it away, Jan!

First, I want to thank Yvette for allowing me to take over her blog space to talk about my new book, Ghostly Interference!


I can answer that question with an absolute and resounding YES! Reading can and very often does lead to writing. I’ve never met an author that didn’t love to read a good story.

Thinking back and trying to remember the first time I read a book, I realize it's been well over sixty years that I've been an avid reader.

In elementary school, I loved losing myself in stories, especially fairy tales. I checked the Grimms Book of Fairy Tales out of the school library so many times they had to make a new card. Oh, how I loved getting lost in those fairy tales where everyone lived happily ever after.

Not only did I read the words in books, I lived the words. In my mind’s eye, I could clearly visualize the characters as the words brought them to life. I could see the setting where the story took place and literally put myself there.

Through the written word, I've traveled all over the world. I've seen Paris, Rome, Venice, Ireland, England, Japan, Australia, Switzerland and every state in the United States. I learned about sex by reading Harold Robbin’s novels. I learned about survival from John Steinbeck and Erskine Caldwell. I got lost in Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, where I first learned about abuse and social criticism. I learned about the inner-workings of politics by reading Captains and The Kings by Taylor Caldwell. I could go on and on, but you catch my drift. If I listed all the great books I’ve read, this blog would go on for pages.

Needless to say, I LOVE to read.

As a child growing up, my parents adhered to a strict holy-roller religion, which meant we had no TV in our home because it was considered to be of the devil. My older sister and I literally received our worldly education through reading. Many nights after Mama called for lights out, we would huddle under our covers with a flashlight and continue reading until we fell asleep. As a result, both she and I are authors today.

I always have one goal when I write a story, and that is to entertain. However, I find that I cannot write a story without a message contained somewhere in the pages. My passion is writing stories that encourage people to reach for their dreams, to believe in something greater.

In Ghostly Interference, Jag Peters confesses to Rena that he’s always dreamed of playing music on big stages around the world. He doesn’t know where the desire comes from. It’s always been there.


“I told you a little about me. Now it’s your turn.”

Jag turned toward her. “Not much to tell. You already know where I work. I write computer programs, make decent money, live in an apartment behind my mom’s house, and drive a Toyota.”

“Aw, come on. Tell me something personal. That’s just stuff.”

“Okay.” Jag pulled his feet out of the water and faced her. “You have to promise you won’t laugh.”

She grinned. “I promise.”

“When I was a kid, I dreamed of being a rock star. I play the keyboard, and I thought that would be the best life in the world; to be on stage and have adoring fans, women clamoring for me and men wanting to be me.”

Rena whispered, “That was a little boy’s dream. What does the man want?”

Jag lowered his head. “I don’t think about it anymore.”

“What you mean is that you settled. You chose a life that’s safe with no risks.”

Jag nodded. “My dad died my first year in college. He never approved of me playing music.”


I’d love to know what inspires you to reach for your dreams.


Jag Peters has one goal in his quiet comfortable life—to keep his karma slate wiped clean. A near-miss crash with a candy apple red Harley threatens to upend his safe world. He tracks down the rider to apologize properly. Slipping into a seedy biker bar, he discovers the rider isn't a "he", it's a "she", a dark-haired beauty.

Rena Jett is a troubled soul, who lives in a rough world. She wants no part of Jag's apology, but even while she pushes him away, she is attracted to him. When he claims to see a ghost—her brother—can she trust him? And could her brother's final gift, a magical rune stone with the symbol for "happily ever after" have the power to heal her wounds and allow opposites to find common ground—perhaps even love?















Thursday, December 24, 2020

A Florida Christmas Poem #FloridaChristmas @VashtiQV


Merry Christmas, beautiful readers! And to those who don't celebrate Christmas, happy holidays! South Florida has a different feel on Christmas day than the rest of the United States. This year, Christmas Eve (our Noche Buena) will be 81 degrees, and Christmas Day will be 59 degrees. Yes, it's a 22 degree drop in one day, and yes, we South Floridians will be relishing the opportunity to put on a sweater because 59 degrees is cold for us (lol), but it is still warm in comparison to our northern states.

A few weeks ago, fellow author Vashti Quiroz-Vega posted a beautiful Christmas poem that I'd like to share with you today. I encourage you to visit her post here because her pictures are great. Plus, she's a fantastic dark fantasy author. I love her books and am excited to read her newest release, The Rise of Gadreel, which is the latest book in her Fantasy Angels series. So, please take a moment to visit her site and support her.

Enjoy this Christmas poem (author unknown):

T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the town,
No noses were frozen, nor snow on the ground.

No children in flannels were tucked into bed,
They all wore their shorty pajamas instead.

To find wreaths of holly was not very hard,
For holly trees sprouted in every backyard.

In front of the houses were daddies and moms,
Decorating hibiscus and coconut palms.

The slumbering kiddies were dreaming with glee,
Hoping to find surf boards under the tree.

They all knew that Santa was well on his way,
In a fiberglass boat instead of a sleigh.

He whizzed up the rivers, zoomed up the canals,
Delivering toys to good boys and gals.

The tropical moon gave the cities a glow,
And lit the way for Santa below.

Quite soon he arrived and started to work,
He hadn’t a second to linger or shirk.

He jumped from his boat and gave a wee chuckle,
He was dressed in deck pants, with an ivy league buckle.

There weren’t any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
For Santa came in through the Florida room.

He stopped at each house but stayed only a minute,
As he emptied his sack of the toys that were in it.

Before he departed he had a long drink,
From the glass of fresh orange juice left by the sink.

He turned with a jerk and jumped into his boat,
Knowing that he still had more toys to tote.

He put it in gear and he opened the gas,
Then up the Peace River he went like a flash!

And I heard him exclaim as he went on his way:
“Merry Christmas, Punta Gorda, I wish I could stay ….

I hope you enjoyed this Florida version of T'was the Night Before Christmas. May you all be blessed with health and happiness today. :-)

Saturday, December 12, 2020

2020 #RRBC KCT International Literary Awards - The One Discovered and The One Awakened

 Hello, beautiful readers! I just wanted to take a moment to share the news that The One Discovered was honored as the 1st place runner up in the 2020 RRBC KCT International Literary Award Contest! I am so happy to see my first Diasodz book getting more recognition. If you haven't read The One Discovered yet, it's FREE on Amazon, so pick up your copy today. :-)

The One Awakened was also honored as a 2020 Top Finalist in the same contest. This is the culminating book in the series, and I'm very proud of how it came out. I'm very appreciative that it has earned this honor. :-)

Thursday, December 3, 2020

The #RRBC #Holiday #BooksBudzPopUp Bookshop 2020 is OPEN! #Christmasgifts #bookstobuy #holidayshopping

 It's the most wonderful time of the year! The RRBC Holiday "Books & Buds" Holiday Pop-Up Bookshop 2020 is open! There are SO many books to keep you company as you curl up under a blanket during the holiday. Name your favorite genre, and there is probably a book (or many) in it. There is a fun game to play, and you can hear authors reading from their own stories in the Reading Room. If you are looking for the perfect gift for the most special people in your life, including yourself, then don't miss out on this event! Plus, for every book you purchase, you get entered into a drawing for a $50 Amazon gift card! So, jump on over to the bookshop now. :-)

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Author Spotlight - Susanne Leist


Hello, beautiful readers! I'm excited to spotlight another great RRBC author, Susanne Leist. She is the author of the Dead Game series. Today she will share with you an excerpt from her newest book, The Dead at Heart.

As the howls echoed louder, Shana jumped. "Are the animals in the house?"

"How can that be?" Linda clutched Shana's arm. "Where are the guards?"

A black form lunged at them.

She grabbed Linda’s as they raced from the room. The enormous beast blocked their path to the stairs. In the darkness, yellow eyes glared at them. They dodged the multiplying animals and climbed the steps as high-pitched cries resonated through the house. "Hurry." Dragging Linda behind her, Shana rushed to Linda's suite and bolted the door behind them.

“I didn’t know the wolves are so huge." Linda gulped her words between frantic breaths as she leaned against the door. When the animals lunged at the door, Linda jumped back. “If they break through the door,” her voice trembled, “they’ll tear us apart. I thought the vamps could protect us." She slid against the wall to the floor.

Shana raced to the window. Shadows darted back and forth across the backyard. A few forms lay lifeless on the grass. "Men and wolves are fighting. There’s nowhere for us to run." Her gaze flew to the door as it cracked from the force of the wolves’ bodies. She spun to Linda. “The wolves have us surrounded. We can’t escape them.”

Linda ran to the window and pointed. "Wait. Is that William?"

A tall figure marched across the lawn. Shana recognized the confident stride as he approached a melee of men and wolves rolling on the grass. At his shout, the animals raised their heads and scampered away. "William chased the wolves away. How did he do that?"

"The wolves might have recognized him as an original."

Chills raced through Shana’s body as she asked, "Aren't Gregg and many of his vampires, originals?"

A loud noise made them turn. The door burst open, and the animals slunk into the room, backing them against the window. Growls and snarls melded into a cacophony of horror in Shana's head. They filled the room, saliva dripping from gaping jaws, moonlight glinting against pointy teeth. Head canted to the side, one appeared taller and broader. It stepped forward on hind legs and watched them through slanted yellow eyes. His peers, the ones standing upright, gathered around him.

Linda cowered beside her. “What do we do?”

"We fight." Shana's heart raced as her gaze darted around the room, searching for a weapon.

“They appear almost human.” Linda pointed at the tallest one. “It’s as if he wants to speak to us.”

“Not he. It,” Shana yelled. She needed a weapon—an umbrella. There was one beside her bed. "We've faced monsters. We kill or are killed.”

A whistle pierced the silence.

The wolves charged.

Growls faded to silence as Shana spun to Linda.

The wolves vanished, and so had Linda.


Book Blub: 

Linda moves into Gregg's mansion and suggests Shana bring William with her as he recuperates from his last battle. While Gregg, a vampire, has learned to live with humans, Shana doubts whether William can mend his evil ways. Shana watches the engaged couple with dismay as her arguments with William mount.

After werewolves kidnap Linda, Shana flees with Sam, who believes William has been plotting with vampires and werewolves to overthrow the upcoming vampire summit in Quebec.

While Gregg searches for Linda, Shana leaves with Sam for Florida's swamplands. At a mansion hidden deep in the swamp, The Watchers, the vampire leaders, live in luxury. They take Shana and Sam with them to a deserted military base, where they board planes for Quebec. At a stand-off at the base, The Watchers capture William and force him to join them. The planes arrive at Chateau Frontenac in time for the summit. But the competing vampire factions have other plans for the meeting.

As the boardwalk of Chateau Frontenac erupts in flames, the battle begins. Shana must choose the right side since any mistake can become a deadly one.

To get your copy, click here. If you want to start with book one, check out The Dead Game. Have you become a fan? Connect with Susanne at these sites:




Amazon Author page











Monday, November 23, 2020

Join in the celebration of #RRBCAuthor @sharrislaughter, #RRBC's November "SPOTLIGHT" Author! #Author of #OurLadyOfVictory

 Hello, beautiful readers! Today, I'd like you to join me in celebrating this incredible woman, author Shirley Harris-Slaughter. She is the #RRBC November Author Spotlight.

My focus today will be on her newly re-released book, Our Lady of Victory, and its new cover!

Book Blurb:

This is a second edition with updates on the state of this historic church. In the original publication files were lost then resurfaced with content altered along with missing photos during transition from one publisher to another. Such is the fate of an Independent Author.

This book evolved out of years of frustration at the total disregard and lack of respect for the contributions of Black Catholics in the city of Detroit. The author says, "We are not mentioned in the pages of history along with the other Catholic churches that sprung up during the World War II era, and that needed to be corrected.” The author did fulfill one dream since publication … that this church can now be found on the web even though it has merged with another church. It is now called Presentation-Our Lady of Victory Catholic Church.

I have read this book and definitely recommend it. Here was my book review:

I'm not big into historical reads, but it was interesting to learn about this small town and the people who came together to bring faith and camaraderie to the African-American community during a time when segregation was still taking place. The author provides factual accounts of its history while also bringing in the personal touch of stories from various people who lived through those times. She does a wonderful job of honoring those who fought to bring religion and education to an area that was being neglected. If you enjoy historical reads, you may enjoy this book. :-)

Check out the book trailer!

Shirley's birthday is this Saturday. Why not pick up a copy of her book as a gift for both her and you. ;-) 

Thursday, November 19, 2020

Welcome to Day 11 of the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour! @nonniejules @RRBC_Org #RRBC #RWISA #RWISAWRW


Today is the last day of the phenomenal Watch "RWISA" Write Showcase Tour! Each day for the next ten days, you will be introduced to an incredible author and a new writing piece. Join me in welcoming Nonnie Jules today! :-)



We often hear that music is the universal language.  It is the avenue to bridge all divides –

racial divides

gender divides

political divides.    

But, in the midst of all the division,

each party holding court in their respective corners of the ring,

ears lightly tickled by the sound of the simple “IMAGINE” by John Lennon,

wafting through the musky air of tear gas, rubber bullets and water cannons -

a mist of standstill calms the noise

…and in mere moments, the eyes of "independent" onlookers are pleasantly greeted by the most beautiful and welcoming sight -

…bodies slowly rocking

…hands collectively raised

…waving side to side

…all in unison  


 “Imagine there’s no heaven. It’s easy if you try…”

The 2020 US election has ended. The people have spoken.

What's left behind?  A world of anxiety and angst – wrapped in feelings of wondering when the bombs will drop, or when the other shoe will fall.  And although I’d like to point fingers here and maybe even call a few not-so-pretty names, my daughter sits beside me as I write this, an ear to measure the "nice" level in my words, the child guiding the parent.  Roles reversed, she gently reminds me that the original goal of this message is unification - therefore, I will stay the course of peace.

In this moment, acknowledging that my conscience of decency is bigger than any emotion that might be stirring the embers of fires that have burned deep inside me for the past few years - neutrality is my cohort, and we will not take sides. 

Instead, all that will be allowed to roll off my tongue is FACT…

one reign is ending  

and another about to begin.

Some exultant…

others despondent

Yet, now is not the time for either.

Yesterday is gone,

today almost a memory,

but what awaits us in tomorrow

is what WE decide it will be. 

This is not the land of us and them –

this is the world of WE. 

WE decide what, who and how WE want to be.  

Do you resemble love, or, are you wearing the likeness of hate?  

What adorns your heart, a choice only you can make … for you. 

So, I have made my choice - and it is firm and true!

I choose love. 

To love,

to be loved,

to speak love,

to exude love,

to live love. 

Because I know that what I send out into the world, will be exactly what the world returns to my doorstep.

It is for that reason that I shall...

remain steadfast in my vigilance –

cognizant of any negativity that might try to seep in or out of my pores –

Skillfully suppressing the desire to gloat in the face of the so-called “losing” side. 

I’ve too much stoop so low.

The 2020 US election has ended.  The people have spoken.

There were no losers. 

WE are a world of winners.

Remember, WE decide



and how

WE will be

in this...




world of WE

"Imagine there's no country
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace...

It’s all easy if WE try.”

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member's writing, please visit their Author Profile on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they've turned you into a fan.

We ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA catalog.  Thanks, again, for your support and we hope that you will follow along each day of this amazing tour of talent by visiting the tour home page!  Don't forget to click the link below to learn more about today's profiled author:


Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Welcome to Day 10 of the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour! @jinlobify @RRBC_Org #RRBC #RWISA #RWISAWRW


Today is the tenth day of the phenomenal Watch "RWISA" Write Showcase Tour! Each day for the next ten days, you will be introduced to an incredible author and a new writing piece. Join me in welcoming Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko today! :-)


In the past, nobody would have taken notice of Iroko, the biggest and tallest tree in the forest. But then, cities started to grow and to eat into the forests. Trees were cut to make way for the growing cities. But the Iroko tree resisted being cut down. Any time an axe cut the tree, the axe either broke or the cut bled, real blood and cries, ear piercing cries, like human cries were heard coming from the tree.

            In the forest, next to Iroko, lived an old woman in a tiny mud hut. Bent by age, she diligently cared for the tree. She was known as the eyes and the mouth of the tree. She listened to the tree, when the leaves rustled and interpreted the language of the tree to outsiders. She was called Nne Oji. Oji is the Igbo name for Iroko, and Nne Oji means Iroko’s mother. Iroko was as tall as a skyscraper, about one hundred and seventy feet high, and the width was as wide as fifty men surrounding the tree with outstretched hands, fingertips touching. Iroko was huge, towering and intimidating!

            The stories surrounding Iroko were such that settlers decided to let it stand and the town grew all around and away from it. Things went on peacefully for a while, but soon it became clear that Iroko did not like the exposure it was getting from the people surrounding it. After all, this tree was the king of the forest, where both trees and animals revered it. Now, standing in the midst of humans, with no one paying it any heed, all of this would change very rapidly.

            People, especially those living close to where Iroko stood, started reporting strange happenings around Iroko in the dead of night. Those who were bold enough to come out and watch these happenings, reported seeing dancing and merrymaking around Iroko by people they believed were spirit people. These spirit people went in and out of Iroko as if they were walking in and out of their homes. They sang and danced in merriment from twelve midnight until two in the morning, after which they packed up and walked back into the tree. Those who observed these goings-on, did so from afar and in hiding.

The story was told of a young boy who had the misfortune of being seen by these spirit people. He was taken and was never seen again. He had heard the stories of the happenings around Iroko, so that night he snuck out of his house and walked toward Iroko to take a closer look. Voices were heard warning him not to come closer, but he continued walking toward Iroko until he entered the sphere of the tree where everything turned grey. At that point, the boy lost control of himself and was pulled along until he disappeared in the mist and was seen no more.

The mother watched everything in hiding in paralyzed shock. The other people who watched in hiding were also mystified. They couldn’t believe their eyes, but they dared not allow themselves to be seen.

The next morning, the mother saw a huge striped cow tied to an orange tree in front of her house. The cow was chewing cud. The woman walked around the cow trying to understand how it came to be there. The town people also took notice and started gathering and questioning the presence of the cow. Out of nowhere, a young boy with only a loin cloth around his waist appeared and spoke to the onlookers.

“Mama, Iroko says you should take the cow in exchange for your son. Iroko says you should not kill the cow. You should sell it and use the money to take care of yourself.” With that, the boy turned and walked through the crowd and disappeared.

Everyone there was seized with shock and they quickly dispersed. The woman cut the cow loose and started shooing it off from the front of her house, but the cow would not budge.

The woman started to weep and pleaded with Iroko to return her son and take back the cow.

“Iroko give me back my son and take your cow!” she implored. “I don’t want your cow!”

The next day, the woman saw the cow at the back of her house, peacefully lying down near her hearth and chewing cud. She ran out toward Iroko.

“If you won’t give me back my son, Iroko, take me too!” she screamed at the top of her voice. Iroko’s leaves started to rustle. Suddenly, the old woman in the hut materialized and stood between the woman and Iroko.

“Go back, Mama!” the old woman said. “What you seek cannot be done. Your son is gone, dead and Iroko has paid you in exchange for him. Go back or you will meet the same fate!”

The woman refused to be stopped. She pushed the old woman down, walked over her and continued to approach Iroko. By this time, people had started to gather and were watching. The woman threw herself at Iroko and just like magic, the onlookers saw sparks of light, like fireworks, all around the woman. They heard her screaming and shouting like someone roasting on a stake. When everything died down and the sparks were no more, the people saw that the woman had metamorphosed. The woman had changed into an animal, something that looked like a dog, or a goat. No one could really tell. The people dispersed but this time they all had one thought in their minds - that Iroko must go.

            Iroko’s fame continued to grow even beyond the immediate town. The townspeople also became bolder. They consulted with diviner after diviner to find out how to get rid of Iroko. They tried everything, without any success … one attempt took the lives of twelve men. They tried to burn Iroko down, but the fire turned against them and burned them to death. One diviner suggested that the spirit of Iroko resided in the old woman who tended it, and that if the old woman was killed, Iroko would quietly and slowly die.

            The townspeople burned the old woman’s hut down with the old woman in it. The next day, Iroko started taking souls. People started disappearing from their homes, both in broad daylight and at night while they slept.

Finally, an Iroko priest from a distant land told the people how to destroy Iroko.

“Humans should not fight Iroko,he said. “They should appease Iroko. Iroko trees do not live amongst humans. Before you people started building your town, you should have appeased and pleaded with Iroko to leave your town. As you can see, Iroko was simply minding its own business, when you people decided to invade its privacy. Now you have to sacrifice to Iroko to appease it.”

            The townspeople had to pay this priest to come to their town to perform all that was needed to appease Iroko. There is no need to list here all that Iroko demanded, which included the blood of virgins, before it was appeased. The morning after the ceremony by this priest was concluded, the people came out and watched as the inhabitants of Iroko exited one after the other and disappeared; the birds of various families, the giant ants, red and black, dark dangerous black snakes - all came out of Iroko hissing, grumbling, and then poof, like smoke disappeared. But the king of all the animals, a giant Eke python, refused to be dislodged. The people had to pump inflammatory liquid into Iroko and set the python on fire, to dislodge it. It came out rumbling, twisting, and floundering, until it, too, disappeared.

            Finally, Iroko was cut down. Mystery upon mystery, not one single hole existed in the cut tree. It was intact with rings showing how many hundreds of years it had stood there.

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH "RWISA" WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member's writing, please visit their Author Profile on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they've turned you into a fan.

We ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA catalog.  Thanks, again, for your support and we hope that you will follow along each day of this amazing tour of talent by visiting the tour home page!  Don't forget to click the link below to learn more about today's profiled author:

Joy Nwosu Lo Bamijoko's RWISA Author Profile