Wednesday, April 2, 2025

The Real Beltane Anthology Cover Reveal

 


Hi Roosties! Yesterday's Beltane Anthology cover reveal was an April Fool's Day prank. 

https://ornerybookemporium.blogspot.com/2025/04/beltane-anthology-cover-reveal.html

This is the real cover. All proceeds from the anthology support Quill Cottage Wildlife, a 501C3 nonprofit dedicated to rescuing orphaned wild animal babies.

Everybody wants one. You want one too! Here's how to get yours.

In the meantime, enjoy a sample from my real anthology story. The prank post's story excerpt is just tarted-up notes for a potential future tale.

The Beltane Laundress

by C. L. Hart

The rain pounded down on a father and son walking through the tiny town of Honeycomb Grove, Colorado.

“It will be a good Mayday celebration this year, Pop,” said the lanky teenage boy. Tufts of gamboge-golden hair stuck out from his dark orchid baseball cap.

The boy’s similarly built father had graying oxide-red hair and wore a faded red baseball cap. The weary expression on his face and the look of hopelessness in sad eyes the color of a John Deere tractor matched glum words spoken with a thick German accent.

“I don’t want to dim the light in those hopeful hazel eyes. I wish I still saw life with the eyes of a tiger conquering his jungle, but today, I view the world through the eyes of an undertaker.”

The teenager was horrified to see a car barrel out of the fog as his father started across the county road.

“Pop, look out!”

The pair lost their balance on the slippery grass as the son pulled his father out of the path of the speeding vehicle. The battered cherry-red mini-SUV that pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned Honey Wash Laundromat had seen better days. A young woman no older than eighteen stepped out, regarding the pair with eyes like blue marbles peering from behind a curtain of unkempt mouse-brown hair haphazardly pulled back into a ponytail.

Want more stories supporting a good cause?

Pick up your copy of the Bog Hag Anthology today!

https://amzn.to/4h9fQUD

Insecure Writers Support Group 2 April 2025: Fight, Quest, or Get Drunk?

 

Free use image by Oberholster Venita on Pixabay

"Ready to begin our quest, Owl?"
"Oh, for sure, Leg O' Lamb. But don't you think it would be a good idea to stop at yonder tavern for a pint first?"

April 2 question - What fantasy character would you like to fight, go on a quest with, or have a beer/glass of wine with?

I found a few fabulous fantasy villains on this website.

https://www.yardbarker.com/entertainment/articles/the_25_most_formidable_fantasy_villains/s1__38791986#slide_25

Am I stupid or crazy enough to fight any of them?

I’m a 60-year-old disabled woman. During my working life, I held such jobs as bartender, waitress, nursing assistant, and nurse. I can’t carry heavy trays (or wounded combatants) anymore, but I could still pour drinks and help patch up the wounded. 

I can use magic, you say?

Well, that’s a little better, although I must admit, I’m a rank amateur. I’d summon Nyarlathotep and his daughter Yadira to help me, except that I’d need a very compelling reason to do so, or it wouldn’t turn out nice. 

Yadira and Nyarlathotep are compassionate toward those who have a real need of their services. They are trickster deities who play very nasty tricks on those who call upon them for self-serving reasons. It was April Fool’s Day yesterday, so you know they were having a field day. They may have had such a good time of it that they see no reason not to keep the party going one more day. I think I’d probably better stick to my own devices.

I don’t think I’ll piss off Saruman. Even though I’m a big hoss of a woman, those Uruk-Hai of his could easily pick me up and fling me into a pit. Also, he managed to imprison Gandalf. I don’t think I stand a chance in a fight against Saruman.

I’d best forget the whole Sauron thing as well. He’d see me coming a mile away with my weird way of walking. He’d probably hear me snuffling and sneezing too. No doubt there’s some weird pollen in Middle Earth that would set my allergies off. 

Oh yeah, there’s that quest thing hanging over my head.

Walking the long walk with the Lord of the Rings boys is a little much for this old broad. Maybe I need to skip the Middle Earth thing altogether and leave that mess to the hobbitses. I’ll head for the Wizarding World and have a beer with Harry Potter. He’s a year older than my soon-to-be thirty-five-year-old son, so he can drink now. 

Free use image by Dmitry Abramov on Pixabay

I can help Harry, Ron, and Hermione plot a few plots and scheme a few schemes against the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange and He Who Is Not To Be Named. I can concoct half-baked ideas and bake tasty treats with the best of them. The Hogwarts gang would love me.

It’s settled, then. I’m off to the Wizarding World. I may not be the most interesting side character, but I’m all in, at least as much as someone in the shape I’m in can be. Maybe I’ll even learn a little magic along the way. 

Ornery Owl Has Spoken

Free use image from Pexels on Pixabay
Ornery Owl is outstanding in her field.

Visit the Insecure Writers Support Group

https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html


Pick up a copy of Nyarlathotep's Journey to learn more about the Son of Azathoth and his beloved daughter. This short story is a steal at just 99 cents.

https://bit.ly/NyJourneyAZ




Warrior Queen Teaser #rabtbooktours


LGBTQ+ Steampunk Romance

Date Published: April 4, 2025


 

A volatile cauldron of magic, love, and the empire may be on the edge of a precipice, but witches, humans, and automatons indulge in pleasures of the flesh.

 

Victoria has been dubbed by her adoring public as their Warrior Queen. Destroying her Continental enemies is nothing to the challenge she faces now. For years, the Lunarians, goblins from the moon, led by the powerful witch Mon Ilson, have been murdering humans and stealing the bodies for his followers to “adopt.”

Beautiful witch Selena Whiteheart, Mon Ilson’s human agent on Earth, is closely watched by Home Office Agent Harry Kincaid, whose loyalty to the Queen suppresses his ability to show Selena his true feelings. Spiritualist Miss Cordelia Warrington has been exploring the carnal attributes and mechanical stamina of Adam, her automaton butler. Now Selena needs Cordelia’s help, and allows herself to be entertained by the amorous pair in a steamy ménage à trois.

Meanwhile, Agent of the Queen Rachel Clayton is instantly attracted to the hauntingly handsome Major Guy Tremayne, hero of the Coronation Island disaster. Can he be trusted? She throws all caution to the wind to find out. At a crucial moment the Queen is cruelly betrayed and threatened with assassination. Selena, Rachel, and Victoria all face difficult choices as love and lust compete with their duty to the Empire.

 

Author’s Note: Enjoy Warrior Queen as a standalone tale or as part of a continuing narrative. 

 This excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

EXCERPT

 

Thwack!

Thwack!

The sound of two cane sticks striking each other reminded me of how a scant two hours ago the Home Secretary had slapped my posterior as he ravaged me. Pressed for time he’d unceremoniously bent me over his Whitehall desk, pulled down my culottes and drawers, grabbed my shoulders for leverage, and drove his prodigious erection into me with frightful force. A few minutes later he flooded my quivering cunt with his lava hot seed. It had been a perfunctory fuck, short and sharp, and my climax perversely satisfying.

My cunny still retained a fair quantity of his ejaculation, and I shifted in my seat contriving to put pressure on my fleshy nether lips to keep it from escaping. My apparently not-so-subtle contortions did not escape the notice of the fine-looking man sitting opposite me. I’d quite forgotten about him as I relived the morning’s carnal adventure. He cleared his throat which brought me back to the here and now.

I was sitting in a Buckingham Palace anteroom, and I felt my cheeks warm under the scrutiny of this ruggedly handsome and smartly uniformed officer. When I’d first arrived, he’d introduced himself as Guy Tremayne. He was in fact the famous Major of the Southern Royal Air Corps who’d distinguished himself by leading the survivors of an airship crash on Coronation Island, a frozen rock midway between Tierra Del Fuego and Antarctica. Their inspirational struggle for survival on the barren island was a true Boys Own Adventure. I’d read his file during my recent convalescence and believed Major Tremayne to be a brave and resourceful officer, respected by his men and superiors alike.

He had given me an elegant bow, took my proffered hand, and lightly brushed his lips against my knuckles. To say I was instantly attracted would be an understatement. He was the epitome of masculinity: well over six feet tall, slim, and long legged. His hips were narrow, his chest deep, and his shoulders broad. His sharply chiselled face was suntanned, and above a thin black moustache his nose was pleasantly symmetrical. The palest of blue eyes gave his countenance a strikingly mysterious and yet desirable aspect.

My cunny throbbed.

He was sitting as if he was on parade with his back straight as a board. He’d started his career in the cavalry, and I couldn’t help but imagine him in the saddle riding into battle, his sabre held high, its razor edge glinting in the sun. He’d actually seen combat, and his curly hair disguised the missing left ear, lost during a bloody skirmish in the Punjab.

Thwack! Thwack!

“Do you singlestick?” I asked him, my mouth dry, and my voice husky.

Thwack! Thwack!

The corners of his mouth curled into a smile. “Indeed, I do. The sabre is my weapon of choice.”

Singlestick fighting had been a feature of English martial life for centuries and cavalry men used it for practicing sabre strokes from horseback. Though the sport had become highly regimented, it required fast reflexes and strict discipline. I found it useful for developing forearm and wrist strength.

Thwack! Thwack!

“Perhaps we should have a bout?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Thwack! Thwack!

My cunt throbbed lustily, and inside my blouse, my nipples ached. I licked my bottom lip, slowly. “Are you residing in London?”

He threw up his hands. “Alas. I exist at the whim of the War Department.”

Thwack! Thwack!

“Then we should arrange a time soon.”

“I believe I am free tomorrow evening.”

“As it happens, so am I.”

Thwack! Thwack!

We’d just concluded arrangements to meet at a restaurant in Chelsea when the door to the anteroom opened, and a footman showed in a slim, elegantly dressed woman. She was about forty years of age, with an attractive oval face and perfect complexion accentuated by challenging hazel eyes and provocatively painted red lips. Her luxurious auburn hair was coiled expertly around her head in such a way that suggested considerable length. The bulk was held in place with gem-tipped pins which glinted in the harsh electric light. I imagined her standing naked, her hair cascading over her ample breasts, reaching and discreetly hiding her mound of Venus. I recognised her as the wife of a member of the House of Lords, and this sensual impression I’d constructed was at odds with her reputation. She was known as a straitlaced prude, active in charitable institutions and a fierce and passionate advocate for women’s suffrage. On one occasion she’d been seen at a rally striking a constable with a placard after she accused him of taking undisclosed liberties.

I curtsied. “Lady Fogerty, I’m Rachel Clayton.”

 

About the Author

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

 

Author on Facebook

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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

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Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Beltane Anthology Cover Reveal

 


I am so excited to have a story in this forthcoming charity anthology! The theme is Beltane, and it is a collection of magical stories and poems all about May Day, or Beltane.

One of my favorite things about this anthology is the beautiful cover. The participating authors crowdsourced to pay for the services of a professional artist to create a truly stunning design to showcase our work. 

I will have a preorder link soon. In the meantime, please enjoy an excerpt from my anthology story.

Elderwood Hollow 

The moon hung low and heavy in the sky, spilling silver light over the twisted oaks of Elderwood Hollow as the May Day revelry began. Bursting with laughter and stilted courage from the dregs of their mead, two sloshed revelers stumbled into the clearing where the coven of witches had gathered, their ancient chant rising like smoke into the chilled air. With a loud, braying whoop, one of the drunks tripped over a gnarled root, crashing into an ornate altar of herbs and bones, sending cackling black feathers swirling into the night. The witches, wrapped in shadows and disenchantment, paused mid-spell, their fiery eyes narrowing at the intruders who brightened this dark night with nothing but drunken folly and the promise of chaos.






Forever Release Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

YA Christian Fantasy

Date Published: April 1, 2025

 


The End Times have arrived…

Grace Fortune leads the rebellion against the United Earth, devastated by the belief that her husband, Jared Lorn, has joined the dark side as the son of the ruthless Supreme Lord Grigori Zazel.

But Jared, now known as the gladiator and demigod Baldyr, is locked in a desperate battle with his fallen angel father. His father's plan? To annihilate not just Israel but the entire world.

As the apocalypse looms, will Grace and Jared find a way to reunite before the world is destroyed? Can they survive the coming devastation? And what happens when a new, even more terrifying enemy emerges—one who will exploit their love and humanity to bring about their downfall?

All these questions and more will be answered in the thrilling conclusion of The Forlorn series.


About the Author

Gina Detwiler is the author of the award-winning YA Supernatural series Forlorn and is co-author with Priscilla Shirer of the bestselling middle-grade fantasy series, The Prince Warriors. Her non-fiction books include The Ultimate Bible Character Guide and The Ultimate Bible Character Devotional.

 

She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, her dog, several imaginary friends, and all of the characters from her books, even the dead ones. She is also the author of three beautiful daughters, for whom she shares credit with her husband, Steve.

 

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Love Before Covid Book Blitz #rabtbooktours



Dark / Drama / Thriller

Date Published: July 28, 2023

Publisher: Troubadour Books


 

“Love before Covid - A raw, philosophical dive into love’s messy reality—unflinching, dark, and unapologetically human. Unlike typical romance novels, LOVE BEFORE COVID is a dialogue-driven exploration of human flaws and ideologies, blending fiction with metaphysical inquiry. It’s not about comfort; it’s about confrontation and insight.”

 

Laced with dark humour, it is best described as traumatic (sur)realism. Love Before Covid takes the reader on a journey through the mind of Joe Pastorius - jazz fan, poet, and victim of horrendous sexual and emotional abuse at the hands of his mother.

The real-time dialogues between the characters that emerge from Joe’s unconscious come via arguably corrupted memories and dystopian dreams. They tell us more about Joe than he could ever know, and perhaps more about our world than you could ever imagine.

Dialogues entail an exploration of clashing perspectives and opinions, that cause reflection. Today though, our world has been infiltrated by online dialogues that tend to feel like wild unfiltered streams of human thought, raw, chaotic and often polarising and devoid of much reflection. Arguably that attitude, and lack of reflection is mirrored by the characters you will encounter. The reflection comes from the reader as the situations unfold. Your moral boundaries will without doubt be pushed to the limit.

You will meet an altruist who can’t stand up for himself, a charming but violent public intellectual, a beautiful dancer who hates fat people, a flirty and gregarious bartender who will do anything to get pregnant, a traumatised art historian who never wants to be a mother, a successful intellectual Mexican writer who is secretly disapproving of her childhood friend’s career as a pornstar, the teenage genius son of that pornstar who has sexual fantasises about his mother, a woman who is pressured into cutting off her penis and a successful therapist who has a habit of ruining people’s lives.

And yes, before you ask, some of the characters in this book eventually catch Covid 19. However, there is always hope. For Joe Pastorious, that comes in the form of the psychopath named Janet Waverley.

 

About the Author

During the pandemic Dr Greg Scorzo completed his first novel ‘LOVE BEFORE COVID’ as well as producing an innovative radio play based on 6 chapters from that book, also called – LOVE BEFORE COVID. available on our YouTube Channel.  and via Audioboom with links to all major podcast platforms.

Greg says, “I was interested in the challenge of writing a novel that was formally experimental, while still being easy for a mass audience to read and understand. I love the idea of a piece of philosophy that is simultaneously a work of fiction, and a philosophical thought experiment which can function like a great, twisty roller coaster of a story that asks the reader many questions. Unlike traditional philosophy and many fashionable works of literature, this book purposefully asks questions without giving answers, encouraging readers to think (and emote) for themselves.”

Since gaining his PhD in Philosophy in 2011, Greg Scorzo has aimed to find creative and original ways to take philosophical thinking outside of academia. By using modern accessible philosophical dialogue inpublic talks, podcasts and his novel Love Before Covid, Greg explores clashing perspectives and opinions that cause reflection. Based in Leicester, he was a founding member of Culture on the Offensive and runs the podcast The ‘Art of Thinking’.

Dialogues entail an exploration of clashing perspectives and opinions that cause reflection. Statements and declarations can close minds.

The ‘Art of Thinking’ with Greg Scorzo podcast is available on YouTube where he does friendly philosophical interrogation of ideas  with many interesting thinkers. Also available via Audioboom linking to all major podcast platforms.

His extended essays on Arts and Culture as well as Cultural Issues are available on this platform www.gregscorzo.com

He has a passion and extensive knowledge of film and music.

From 2017 – 2020 Greg Scorzo was active in running over 60 engaging voluntary community sessions, centred around ‘The Art of Thinking’  The focussed on  universal philosophical themes, arts and culture and cultural issues. The ethos behind these events was to encourage the use of EMPATHY, CLARITY and COURAGE in ensuing dialogues with the audience. These were organised by COTO.

He also took up invitations to partner and run sessions at other events, including the Battle of Ideas Festival at the Barbican London, the Philosophy Now conference, Leicester Comedy Festival and  DeMontfort University’s Cultural Exchanges festival. He is always interested to partner up with other like minded people.

 

Contact Links

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Purchase Links

https://mybook.to/LoveBeforeCovid

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Steven F. Seagull and the Missing Chips Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

Children's Book

Date Published: 06-13-2024

Publisher: Magnetic Lion Productions


 

The chipocalypse is the greatest mystery to hit the seaside town of Fry Cove. Join Steven F Seagull on the adventure of a lifetime in this Pencraft Best Book engaging read about courage, friendship and teamwork, which reviewers hail as ‘an unexpected delight.’

Who stole the chips? Was it the Deny the Fry colony, who want all seagulls to quit eating chips? Or was it the seagull mafia boss, Stefano Giacomo, who has concocted a dastardly plot to convert all seagulls to pizza and pasta? As part of the newly formed CIA (Chips Investigation Agency), our reluctant hero, along with Charlie, Steven Colton, the karate chopping Bart, and Steven Rhys pit their wits to solve the mystery.

Whether you’re a fan of whimsical tales or simply in need of a feel-good read, this Readers' Favourite 5 Star ‘war of the best carbohydrates’ book is sure to leave you smiling.

 

Excerpt

Nervous, I flew alongside my dad, wondering what to expect. Fry Cove looked so peaceful and calm from the air, hiding the chip chaos. Dad took me to a rooftop on the edge of Fry Cove, where we found a hole and squeezed inside the lair of his ex-crime fighting friend.

It was dark inside, except for the light coming through the hole. A seagull emerged from a shadowy corner, smoke surrounding him in a cloudy haze.

“Who goes there?” he grumbled.

My dad held up his wings like he was surrendering.

“It’s okay, it’s me, Steven Petronius.”

A bedraggled seagull hopped forward, a twig drooping from the corner of his beak.

“Hmph, long time no see,” he said. “How long was it since we were both in the seagull police force?”

They slapped each other on the back, and began chuckling.

“This is Steven Sherlock,” my dad said. “He’s a very old friend.”

Both of them tipped their heads back and cackled, “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!”

“Remember the time we busted that American fries racket?” Steven Sherlock said.

“Oh yeah,” Dad said. “Our finest hour.” He beckoned to me. “This is my son, Steven Fitzgerald.”

The ex-detective’s eyes scanned me.

“A fine boy,” he commented. “What can I do for you? Is it anything to do with the chipocalypse?”

“Still as sharp as ever!” my dad said. “My boy just joined the newly formed CIA, or Chips Investigation Agency. Its mission is to solve the mystery of our missing chips, and restore order in Fry Cove.”

I gulped, my mind racing at the thought of the responsibility I had accepted.

“That’s brave of you,” said Steven Sherlock. “Pull this off, and you’ll be the hero of Fry Cove.”

I hung my head low, knowing I was far from heroic.

“Unfortunately, Steven Zeus put the Artful Dodger in charge of the CIA,” Dad said, shaking his head.

“That fool,” Steven Sherlock scoffed. “So, it means you need all the help you can get.”

He finished his twig, and stubbed it out on the floor.

My dad asked, “Have you got any old tools of the trade to get my boy started?”

Steven Sherlock lifted a wing tip in a lightbulb moment.

“I have something that could help.”

He waddled to the side of the room, which received light from the hole. Pulling out a drawer, he dipped in, lifting something out. It was shiny, but dusty. He dropped it on the floor with a clunk.

“You’ll find this useful when looking for clues,” he said. “It’s my old spy glass.”

He demonstrated by picking it up with one foot, peering through it.

“You can see many things not visible to the seagull eye. It makes tiny things bigger.”

“That’s…great,” I said, not sure how it would help.

“Hmmm,” Dad said. “What else do you have in your arsenal?”

Steven Sherlock rubbed his wings together with glee.

“Glad you asked! I have the full Chip Stealing Investigation tools here!”

He used his beak to pull a cord. A series of drawers and cupboards popped out, revealing a full range of crime fighting equipment.  There was so much technology, it made my mind boggle.

“Here, we have a sophisticated tool for analysing wing tip prints.”

I stared at the equipment wide-eyed.

“While over here,” he added, “I have some special cement for making casts of footprints, chalk for drawing around dead gulls, and a poop splatter examination kit. It can also analyse ketchup, mayonnaise, and even barbeque sauce smears.”

“It’s so…hi-tech,” I said.

“You’re in the best of wings,” Dad said. Turning to Steven Sherlock, he added, “Where do you suggest my boy starts?”

He pulled the cord again, and the equipment rolled back into its secret location.

“Go to the places of previous chip sightings, and use the spy glass to find clues. Take samples of any ketchup smears or small items that you think are suspicious, then bring them back to me in these little bags.”

He passed me some empty chip bags.

“Okay,” I said, my voice quite shaky.

“You can do this,” Dad said. “I believe in you.”

It was time to show Fry Cove my capabilities, but could I live up to my dad’s expectations?

 

About the Author

Kitty May Gruchelska loves creating fantastical worlds for her readers, full of diverse and quirky characters. In a past life, she was probably a cat because she likes tuna, dislikes water, and frequently knocks things over, but luckily, she has nine lives. Kitty May teaches in a magical desert kingdom full of sunshine, camels, and rice dishes. She loves travelling, which also inspires her to write.

 

Contact Links

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Instagram: @kittymaytales


Purchase Link

Amazon

 

 

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