Not With a Bang, but a Whimper… #MysteryFiction

New book release from Anita Dawes:

Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie ~ Authors

Today is the day we chose to launch Annie’s Song, Anita’s latest powerfully moving story of Annie Steele and her family . It is now available on Amazon but somehow the launch just didn’t happen!

When we decided to do this, the virus was only a rumour, we were both well and confident about so many things.

How things can change in just a few months…

So, if you hear a mangled squeak in the blogosphere today, I’m afraid this is the long-awaited birth process of Annie’s Song.

We did, however, arrange a book tour with Silver Dagger Book Tours, which kicks off on 4th July, so we haven’t completely thrown the baby out with the bath water, so to speak. We will be linking with Silver Dagger during the tour and would really appreciate it if our readers could join in?

https://www.silverdaggertours.com/tour-sign-ups/annies-song-tour-sign-ups

Book Description

Family or…

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Recycling and Climate Change…22nd June 2020…

From CarolCooks2:

Retired? No one told me!

Hello and welcome to this weeks edition of recycling and climate change news from around the world. ..many countries are relaxing their quarantines and already some are seeing an increase in new cases and in light of recent developments around the world I am guessing it is not over yet…I was very disturbed to read about Swedens policies I am sure after this is over they may occur repercussions…Scary..

Here in Thailand we are not many days of declaring ourselves Covid-19 free…fingers crossed…BUT so far although some restrictions have been lifted masks and social distancing is still very much in the fore front of everyday life and not being lifted in the near future I am guessing but I am happy with that…

But let’s not dwell on what we have no control over and do our bit to stay safe and well and look at the good things happening…

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Eyewitness Account of the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921 | Juneteenth Today

Lara Trace Hentz

An Oklahoma lawyer details the attack by hundreds of whites on the thriving black neighborhood where hundreds died 95 years ago

The ten-page manuscript is typewritten, on yellowed legal paper, and folded in thirds. But the words, an eyewitness account of the May 31, 1921, racial massacre that destroyed what was known as Tulsa, Oklahoma’s “Black Wall Street,” are searing.

“I could see planes circling in mid-air. They grew in number and hummed, darted and dipped low. I could hear something like hail falling upon the top of my office building. Down East Archer, I saw the old Mid-Way hotel on fire, burning from its top, and then another and another and another building began to burn from their top,” wrote Buck Colbert Franklin (1879-1960).

The Oklahoma lawyer, father of famed African-American historian John Hope Franklin (1915-2009), was describing the attack by hundreds of whites on the thriving black neighborhood…

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The pan-dimensional mouse

A post to ponder on this Sunday by Sue Vincent:

The Silent Eye

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I have spent a lot of time lately working with two-dimensional representations of multidimensional states. No, I don’t mean anything arcane and mystical… or something that belongs in the realm of science fiction either. I’ve been working with pictures.

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We tend to think of dimensions in spatial terms of height, length and depth. That is how we are first taught about the whole affair in school and why would we question it? We simply accept that we live in an apparently three-dimensional universe, and that an image, for instance, is only a two dimensional representation of a wider reality… a symbol, if you like. It has become widely accepted that ‘time’ makes a fourth dimension… the difference between how things were and how they are. Time travel has become such a popular idea through literature and entertainment that none of us boggle at the possibility… even while we accept it…

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Through the Secret Door #Writephoto #Meditation

A lovely meditation from Dr. Crystal Grimes inspired by a #writephoto prompt from Sue Vincent:

Mystical Strings

Download Meditation Mp3
Length: About 16 minutes

A guided meditation with lyre accompaniment, “Through the Secret Door,” for
Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto Prompt, Secret.

I recommend downloading the meditation to listen at your convenience. It’s about 16 minutes long, a journey well worth the time. And thank you to everyone who takes the time, not just to listen but to benefit from your own journey through the secret door!

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The Mysterious Self

From Steve Tanham:

Sun in Gemini

(Above: The self: mysterious and changing… but what is it?)

One of the most wonderful elements of being Human is the sense of self; yet there is great confusion as to what the ‘self’ really is… even whether it exists at all.

Something harvests the experiences of each day yet declares itself separate from them. This accumulation is deemed to be a living entity – the ‘me’ – resplendent with a memory of having lived it, rather than the actuality of what was lived, and containing a trace of the story of that day, which, over time, is consolidated into ‘like’ experiences.

Language cements this relationship with experience. In western languages, we have the basic construct of ‘I do this’: subject, verb and object. Some older languages – often associated with highly spiritual societies – do not have this structure. Sanskrit, for example, the ancient language of India, would say…

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Sensory Deprivation?

From Sue Vincent:

The Silent Eye

I was no more than five years old. We were staying with one of my great-grandmothers for a while. She was an old lady by that point, with a sharp mind and a wicked sense of fun. She was also blind, having lost her sight quite suddenly one day on her way to work. We were there to make sure she would be able to manage on her own. My mother had gone out to get some shopping and Grandma and I were alone.

“You’d better go watch the cat,” she said, quite suddenly. Whether it was her hearing or her sense of smell that had alerted her, I never thought to ask, but she knew the moment that the resident moggy went into labour. The cat was curled up a cardboard box lined with clean rags. Grandma had me watch and keep up a running commentary, explaining to me…

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Touch As Nutrition – by John Tuite

Kindness Blog

human touch

Touch could properly be regarded as a form of nutrition.

We mistakenly think that touch occurs on the periphery of our self, a skin thing. But truthfully each surface stimulus travels far into the most hidden interior landscapes of our self, traversing long nerve cells right through the buried spinal core to enter and gather in the deep folds of our brain. It’s not by accident that our skin and brain each are generated from a single ectodermic substance, cascading outwards and inwards as we grow in the womb, because right at the very root and origin of us, we are built to connect the inner and outer worlds.

The necessity of nurturing touch is very clear when we are at our youngest. Without it, young children wither and even die, though they are provided with food and medicine.

Slightly older children typically find ways to build a huge, varied…

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#Veiled #writephoto

veiled
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Her eyes searched the mist over-looking the chasm. Sometimes the heart is blind to fear, and hers beat only to the destination. Rocks piled like stone sentinels watched, beckoning her footsteps. “Welcome home,” they whispered. Below three rings shivered in wait.

The pulse grew stronger, urgent, the closer she got to edge. “Come to us,” they whispered. She didn’t care that she might never return. Lost to her was the voice of logic as she hurried onward. The green earth held strange holes that could swallow her whole in one misstep, but she hadn’t thought about the possibility of falling. No, she figured instead that she would finally learn to fly. Again.

She knew she had been here before in some time long lost to the memories held in books. She could see the stars collapsing the veil. She knew her feet walked their pathway to a home that promised so much more than the one she cared little, at this moment, if she left.

At one time, when the fires burned with the dance, the veil did not exist. There had been no separation from what she now sought to what was always there. That is why she nearly wept when the voices of reasons called through the mist. “The time is not right. We must turn back.”

To what, she wondered? More of the same. Yearning for the place just beyond. Now she had only the dreams. The hush of night to part the veil so she could walk the path home before she woke again to frustration.

No, she thought, I will not rest until you call me back.

For Sue Vincent and her #writephoto prompt, #veiled and the opportunity to relive a day I’ll never forget.

Beyond the Veil… #bookextract

Book Extract from Sue Vincent:

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

“Heilyn’s mother, for instance, is no Titania. By human standards she can be cruel and heartless and her morals non-existent. You may not judge by the accepted code of our world. Faery is not immoral, but amoral in our terms. A leopard is beautiful and dangerous; it kills and devours its prey with dreadful ferocity and mates where it will. It is not evil, it follows the dictates of its own nature and instinct, yet in a human such behaviour would be condemned. So it is with the Otherworld. An ogre will rip you to shreds but it is not personal. Just a method of food preparation.”

Merlin gave them a few moments to digest this comment, their revulsion causing the glimmer of a smile.

“The next question is where are these other worlds, to which the answer is ‘right here’,” he continued. “They permeate our world in the same…

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