Saturday, March 17, 2018

Sky Eyes #SweetRomance #Historical

Sky Eyes world is turned upside down when she is forced to live in the white world as Kathryn Clay.

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Sky Eyes knew she was different from the other children in the village, different even from her brother, Otter Pup. The skin beneath her clothing was white rather than brown, her hair was not black, but brown with red streaks when the sun hit it right. The most important difference was the fact her eyes were the color of the sky, lending their color to her name. Although her friends noticed her differences, they never teased her about them. She was accepted for who and what she was.
When she was old enough to question the differences, her mother insisted her appearance was a gift from the Great Spirit. As a child, she accepted the explanation but as she became a woman, she wondered if there was something Morning Star wasn’t telling her.
“Sky,” her mother called. “I need your help.”
Sky set aside her thoughts about her differences and hurried to her mother’s side. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of her brother. Otter was preparing to go hunting with their father. She wished she could go hunting rather than do the woman’s work her mother planned for her.
“What can I help you with, Mother?” she asked as soon as she stood beside her mother at the cooking fire.
“I would like you to come with me to the river. It is spring and I know there will be many plants for us to pick to enhance our meals and use in the midwives’ lodge. This is always my favorite time of the year. It was in the spring when both you and your brother were born.”
Sky never tired of hearing her mother tell of how she gave birth to two babies at the same time. It amazed her how her mother carried two children within her now slender body.
They walked in silence until they came to the river. “I brought you here for a special reason today. You have recently become a woman and soon some of the young men will begin to court you. I know there is one special young man who has already spoken to your father. Before the time comes, I must tell you about your birth.”
“I know how you carried Otter and me in your belly until it was time for us to be born. What else is there for me to know?”
“There is much,” Morning Star replied as she turned away from the river. “I did give birth to two babies, a boy and a girl. When they were six suns old, the spirit of death came and claimed my daughter. I still had Otter, but my heart was heavy. After your father buried the baby, we came to this area of the river to hunt for spring greens. We had just arrived when I heard the cries of a very young baby. Running Deer said not to investigate, but I could not help myself. What I found was a woman dying of childbirth fever. We were surprised because she was white but she spoke our language. She begged me to take her child and not to let her die. You are the baby I found in the cabin. I stayed with your mother until she drew her final breath.”
“Are you saying you are not my real mother?” Sky Eyes asked, hardly able to believe the story her mother just told her.


At the age of fifteen, Sherry Derr-Wille walked into her sophomore English class and fell in love with writing. Her teacher, Earl Brockman, The Duke of Earl, announced that anyone getting an A on the first test could sit in the back of the room and write. Since no one ever told her to stop the assignment, she continued to write for over forty years before becoming published in 2003.

Married to her high school sweetheart, Bob, for over fifty years, she calls him a saint for putting up with a crazy writer. Together they raised three children, have nine grandchildren and five great granddaughters.

Born a country girl, she loves living in a mid-sized city close to the Illinois border in Wisconsin. Being retired gives her time to follow her heart with her writing along with editing for several private clients an three publishers.



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Facebook page: SHERRY DERR-WILLE

Sunday, March 11, 2018

#Revelaton #Sci/fi #Fantasy

EXCERPT: Revelation The Heart of Seras


"Why did that naked man look at me like that?" Julie Ayers thought to herself. At the time Julie was a thirteen-year old girl with vivid, curious, brown eyes the color of honey with flecks of gold, wavy brown hair, and a round face. Her friends would pick on her about how easy her creamy mocha skin easily tanned when kissed by the summer sun.
"I'm so glad we could have one day without cheerleading practice or basketball camps," Julie's mother, Michelle, had said from the front seat of her husband's newest purchase, a royal blue 1976 Chevy Nova.
"Me too," Julie answered. She nudged her older brother, Patrick, with her elbow. He was sitting quietly, listening to music through his earplugs, which annoyed Julie.
She began singing a song from the musical Oklahoma as she watched wave after wave of cornfields that stood up on both sides of the road like a wall of skinny green soldiers. Her mother joined in the show tune serenade.
"Dad!" Julie reprimanded her father when he came to a stop sign and played with the gas pedal just to hear the engine growl, distracting the mother-daughter duet.
"Phil," Julie's mother said, giving a disapproving stare.
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he weakly defended himself with a hint of humor.
Steam rose from the faded asphalt as the family outing continued toward the stone pebbled bridge that crossed over Cedar Creek. Cedar Creek served as the unofficial border to the western side of the town of Sunset, Ohio and wound its way behind the school that also acquired its name.
"Oh my god!" Julie screamed when a bright flash of light sent a crackle into the air directly in front of them, and the image of a naked man appeared out of nowhere on the edge of the bridge less than ten feet from the car.
Her shaken father blasted his horn as he swerved dangerously to avoid hitting the tall unkempt brown-haired man standing exposed on the side of the road. The disoriented stranger paused briefly. Julie's first thought, "Gross!" Then the unwelcomed visitor locked eyes with her, sending a wave of panic through her young body.
"What in the hell was that?" Julie's father shouted and jumped out of the driver seat.
Julie looked out of the passenger window to the tree line adjacent to the creek. The man was gone.
"He must've scrambled into woods," Phillip Ayers said, climbing back into his seat. "Is everyone all right? Julie?"
Julie refocused her attention to her father and nodded in silence. Why did that naked man look at me like that?
"It's okay, honey." Her mother tried to comfort her, reaching back and patting her leg. "He's gone." She turned to her husband. "Phil, we have to call the police."
"Already on it," he said, dialing his cell phone with one hand.
Julie heard her mother say, "Let's go home," through the mental fog enveloping her head. She pulled her knees to her chest and wiped the moisture from her eyes.

~ * ~

"Mom!" Julie yelled later that night after having a hideous dream.
Her mother and father burst into the room. "What's the matter, honey?" Michelle asked.
"I just had a horrible nightmare."
"It's okay, Jules," her father said in a calming manner. "You can tell me all about it."
"I was a monster!"
"A monster?"
"Yes! I was all by myself in this long hallway with torches on the walls. I heard people yelling and screaming outside. I was sweating like crazy, like I had been playing basketball all day. Then I saw a set of stairs, so I walked up to the top. There was a heavyset guy with gold-ish blonde hair. He was wearing a blue robe with green tassels and an embroidered red snake with the head of a lion across the front of his…shirt. Then he lifted up his arms to try to stop me or something."
Julie paused to make sure her dad was still paying attention. He nodded. "Dad, I was huge. I think I was a man. I was tall and had large muscles."
"I thought you said you were a monster?"
"I think I was both."
"I noticed I was holding a sword. It was long and had a smooth black handle. Then I saw my hands. They were hideous. They were large, hairy and it looked like I had claws. I remember thinking, 'These aren't my hands, are they?' "
"Dad, I stabbed him."
"What, why?"
"I don't know why. I couldn't control myself. He started chanting something in a language I didn't understand as I walked closer to him. That's when I saw my reflection. The guy stopped whatever he was doing. I looked into his eyes and saw myself. My eyes were red. I had a protruding mouth like a dog with pointed upper and lower teeth and some kinda rippled bone structure that went from my eyebrows over her temples and behind my ears."
"Julie, that sounds terrible."
"I know. I said to myself, 'No, I'm definitely not a man. I'm not even human.' That's when he said 'It-it is you!' like he was talking right to me."
"Right to you? I don't understand?"
"I mean it seemed like he looked right through the ugly monster and saw me and said it to me."
"That's strange. What did you do?"
"I stabbed him with the sword." Julie burst into tears and buried her head into her father's chest. "Dad, it was horrible."
He patted her head. "You've had quite a day, young lady. Try to get some rest and hopefully you'll forget all about these nightmares."

Author Bio

My name is Joe Evener. I live with my wife of thirty-one years, Bronwen, in Delaware, Ohio. I am the father of two sons, Joey and Jacob, and grandfather of two, Jacob and Jamison. I have been the head coach of the Girls' Track and Field Team at Big Walnut High School in Sunbury, Ohio for twenty years. Besides writing and coaching, I enjoy traveling with family and friends. 

I earned my Associate Degree in 2007 and Bachelors Degree in 2009 from The Ohio State University; and my Masters Degree from Mount Vernon Nazarene University in 2011. I am a fifth grade Language Arts and social Studies teacher at Big Walnut Intermediate School.


fantasy, medieval, hero, Seras, adventure,


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Joe Evener, Author (Facebook – to be activated once publishing begins)

Blog URL:

Twitter : @joe_evener

Julie Ayers is a normal fifteen year old living in the quiet town of Sunset, Ohio. Her world is turned upside down by the arrival of the school’s new teacher, Marcus Campbell. 

Marcus Campbell has a secret. He is a warrior from a medieval dimension searching for the mythical "Heart"-a hero given to the people of Seras to rid their world of impending evil. Marcus’s quest is challenged when he realizes that the "Heart" is the vibrant teenage girl. Now, against his better judgment, he must try convincing Julie to go to his world and begin preparation to face whatever evil lies ahead.

Journey to Seras is the first book in the five part The Heart of Seras fantasy series. It begins the adventures of the two unlikely heroes as they battle the dark forces of Seras.

Monday, March 5, 2018

#OdeToRebellion #YA #Sci/fi

EXCERPT: Ode to Rebellion

I stand silently until the H.P.V. gets here, and we board it. I get comfortable in a seat, knowing I have a long ride back to base.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Nova asks after a few moments.
“I’m fine, I promise,” I respond, leaning back against the seat and closing my eyes.
The H.P.V. falls silent again, all I hear are the sounds of my soft breaths and the occasional sigh from Nova. This will probably be all the silence I get for a while. The second we arrive back at base people will be rushing around, speaking to me, ordering me to go places.
The H.P.V. stays silent for a while. Suddenly there is a loud crash, and the H.P.V. trembles in the sky. My eyes shoot open. I look to Nova, who has jumped to his feet.
“What the hell was that?” he exclaims as he presses the button to open the door to the pilot.
The door slides open. The pilot presses buttons and flips switches one after another.
“Shots from the ground,” the pilot answers flatly.
Nova groans, turning back to me. “One of them must have hit a panic button before I could take them both down. They alerted a bigger base and now they are tailing us, trying to shoot us down. Damn it.”
He slams his fist into the wall of the H.P.V. making me jump.
“We have to do something before we get shot out of the sky. So, what are we going to do?” I stand, making my way over to Nova.
I look out the front window of the H.P.V., nothing but flat land as far as my eyes can see. “Go faster,” I say, “Let’s see if we can outrun them.”
“Those hydro-guns have a long range, Ara,” Nova counters.
“What else can we do? Set this thing down and fight? That would be the worst idea you’ve ever had. We have no idea how many are down there. We have no idea exactly what weapons they have. We have no idea if they have back up. If you want to set down, by all means, take your chances. Personally, I would like to live to see tomorrow,” I retort.
“What should I do?” the pilot asks.
“But…” Nova starts.
“Listen to me, Nova,” I sigh.
“What do I do?” the pilot asks again.
Suddenly another blast hits the ship. I stumble into Nova as we both yell, “Go faster.”
Nova hits the floor with a loud thump, groaning from my weight on top of him. I push myself up quickly, trying to avoid an awkward situation. I let out a puff of air, trying to blow a wisp of hair out of my face as I stand.
I straighten out my cuirass as I mumble, “Sorry.”
Nova gets back up without a word and leans against the door frame, looking out the window.
“We seem to be losing them.” the pilot states.
“Good,” I nod, sitting back down.
The rest of the flight back to the base is calm. We land at the base. Nova and I don’t exchange any words as we get off the H.P.V. I head straight back to my room, weaving through the masses of Humans and Oderians in the hallways of the base. I finally get back to my room and drop off my things. As I unload my pack I hear a light knock on the door.
“Come in,” I drone. I hear the swish of the door opening and closing. I glance up and see Nova. “What do you want?”
“I came here to say that I am here if you want to talk,” he says.
I burst into laughter, “Do you really think after everything you put me through I am going to come and confide in you? That’s funny.”
“Ara. I’m serious.” He takes several steps closer, setting his hand on my shoulder.
I push his hand away. “Nova, I’m not the same hybrid I was when we got here. I was scared, helpless. I had no idea what was happening. Now? Now if you want to mess with me, make me mad, please, by all means, go ahead, but I’m going to warn you it’s going to hurt. I’m tougher than I used to be. You really want me to confide in you? Then how’s this, based on what those two Constables said, Father probably died all those moons ago because I didn’t go back for him. I abandoned him. I abandoned him and everyone else I cared about. Guess what? I bet they are all dead now. Nova, I want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I ever will. So, you need to get over yourself and move on.” I turn back to unloading my stuff.
I grab a cloth and my staff. I perch myself on the edge of my regeneration tube, and as I begin to polish my staff there is another knock on the door.
I sigh, “I can’t catch a break, can I?” I close my eyes for a moment then open them and call, “Come in.”
Nova looks at me as I glance up at the door to see who came in. I see that it is one of the main leaders of the rebels.
“Yes?” I ask as I turn toward him, putting on a fake smile.
“Messier would like to see you two,” the Oderian says.
“Lead the way,” I reply.

Author Bio:

A. M. Harris is a young author from Tulsa, Oklahoma. She has had a passion for writing since the first grade. This book actually started as a project for her seventh-grade reading class and she continued writing it on into high school. Not only does she love to write but she also enjoys music and plays flute in her high school marching band. She is a dedicated student and works hard to achieve her goals



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Twitter handle: @books_are_sweet

Saturday, February 24, 2018


Buy at: Amazon, Barnes and Noble

EXCERPT: 1040 Taxes Could Be Replaced by One-Cent Fees

As stated earlier, it is very difficult to let go of the archaic notions of withholding, itemization, deductions, and Schedule A’s. The refund event is unbelievable. I am amazed American taxpayers are so happy to get a two or three-hundred-dollar refund—when thousands and thousands of dollars have been withheld from their paychecks for the entire year! Possibly some of you are convinced there is a moral obligation to pay taxes. In my opinion, morality or immorality has nothing to do with funding the government. My concern in this book is only how relatively painless mathematical efficiency can be applied to fund the Treasury. This proposal is about dollars and cents—especially the cents. And common sense!
Well-meaning folks have said my plan is unrealistic or unfair. As I will point out continually, fairness has nothing to do with this plan. I would challenge any of you to explain how the current system, the current Code, is fair—or consistent—or accurate—or simple. By the way, politics has nothing to do with this new proposal.
My new system for funding the US Treasury, The Transaction Fee Protocol (known hereafter as TFP) is based on mathematics, is not political, will generate sufficient funds, and is simple to articulate and conceptualize. Fully “automatic,” the TFP will work because the software architecture already exists to support its implementation. Fantasy football, cash registers, ATM’s, Amazon—all function daily using 21st century tracking technology.
This plan is not related to any state income tax, sales tax, property tax, Social Security tax, Medicare tax, or corporate income taxes—although the TFP will collect monies from corporations as well. (However, simple adjustments to TFP fees could also be used to potentially fund national health care, higher education, and Social Security. More on other possibilities later.)
This proposal moves forward from a very simple observation—1040 culture exists because the United States government taxes personal income to raise trillions of dollars to fund the federal treasury. The amount will undoubtedly increase in the future—but so will American commerce and the GDP. I have nothing against the IRS or the giant cottage industry populated by tax interpreting and preparing professionals. Unfortunately for tax preparers, many of their accounting services will no longer be needed within the TFP universe. This new plan will provide a valuable place for the IRS. (It will become the “New IRS,” or “NIRS,” under the TFP system—a purpose-focused agency explained below.) But the essential focus of this book will be how we can raise 3.5 or 5.0 or 6 trillion dollars efficiently and accurately while eliminating the unwieldy and often suspect 1040 tax return process. I am not concerned with the future careers of tax preparation professionals.

A trillion is 1 followed by 12 zeros—1,000,000,000,000. This is, of course, a very large number. The TFP plan, basically, is to “automatically” assess a one-cent fee (.01 dollar) on all trackable transactions in the US (or those related international transactions using American financial institutions). To raise 4 trillion dollars assessing one-cent per transaction, 100 X 4,000,000,000,000 transactions will need to occur per annum. Is it possible? I believe so, and you will too.
I came upon this “idea” while examining electricity consumption by American homes.
According to the US Energy Information administration, the total sales of electricity to all sectors of consumers (residential, commercial, transportation, and industrial) was 3,758,992,000,000 kWh’s in 2015. Think of this—a one-dollar surcharge (or fee or tax) on each of the kWh’s would have paid the 1040 tax bill for the entire country! Of course, no individual wants to pay such a fee. But what if fees were spread out into the network of electronic commerce?
What about a simple one-cent fee/charge on every financial transaction taking place within a calendar year? Billions and billions of transactions take place daily in the USA. I predict sufficient annual transactions occur in five major areas of the American economy to successfully replace the need for personal income taxes in the US (using the one-cent per transaction rate). These five sectors include Financial Services, Equity Markets, Energy, Retail Sales, and Transportation.
Examples and statistics from each are described below. I will not provide exhaustive lists of transactions. The New IRS will be charged with finding, monitoring, and validating appropriate transactions—and setting up the processes for channeling TFP monies into the federal treasury.
But the proposal provides stunning documented figures, which clearly support the veracity and simplicity of this plan. As a side note, I might mention it is quite difficult to find simple count numbers describing transactions involving some aspects of our economy. Growth and economic numbers are typically reported as per cent changes or dollar amounts—not in customer counts or retail sales transactions. However, I will supply sufficient information to clearly articulate the evidence supporting these ideas—and whet the reader’s appetite for absolute reform of the current federal personal income tax process.

Author Bio

Jeffrey Ross, who resides in Arizona, is a writer, rock musician, and former full-time community college teacher. He has had four "Views" pieces published on, has authored and co-authored several national and international op-ed articles on community college identity, purpose, and culture, and has recently published numerous parody poems and articles on the Cronk News higher education satire website. Ross co-authored the comic and critically acclaimed campus novel College Leadership Crisis: The Philip Dolly Affair (Rogue Phoenix Press, 2011). He also authored the romance parody Love in the RV Park: A Romance for Men (Rogue Phoenix Press, 2013), a nonfiction life history Silent Sonora (Rogue Phoenix Press 2015), and the mature romance The Auroran: Cold Front Redemption (Rogue Phoenix Press 2016).


IRS, income taxes, tax reform, tax preparation, 1040 forms, flat tax, VAT tax


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Twitter handle: @salinaschick




Silent Sonora details the life of a heroic young girl, Lillian Carroll, whose family resides in two tents during the 1920’s and 1930’s. Set in depression-era Scottsdale Arizona, the book reveals Lillian’s daily life experiences, the family’s struggles, and her quest for a better life through education. Lillian tells readers directly about tent life, the local “emerging” Arizona communities, and the ongoing hardships she and her family confront.  Both of Lillian’s parents are deaf—her father works in the local agricultural industry, while her strong-willed mother endeavors to make the best home she can for her children.  Lillian admits that “life was tough,” but assures us she and her family had good times, too. Ultimately, Lillian’s desire for a better education helps her situation—her love of family and strong faith give her the support she needs to finally gain independence.

REVIEW: Silent Sonora

Silent Sonora by
Jeffrey Ross
4 Stars

Review by C. L. Kraemer

Mr. Ross has honored the narrator of these recollections from the Depression by leaving the text just as it was presented to him. I felt as if I were sitting with an aunt who answered my questions without hesitation and didn’t sugar coat any aspect of those times.
This was a fascinating read and should be required of all history students. Real life memories give a better perspective of the situation than novels, however brilliant.
Bravo, Mr. Ross.