A to Z Challenge: Day 17 - Q

QUIRKY bird by Linzé

I did an online Sketchbook Workshop while in isolation and one of the lessons was this quirky bird. The artist/presenter of this lesson was Tamara Laporte (https://www.willowing.org). I loved the concept and shared it with the artists in my writers' group who also made their own quirky birds. But here is mine. Enjoy! 💜

PS: Thank you for visiting my blog today. I love reading your comments, but I am still having difficulties replying. I do apologise and hope I can get this sorted out very soon. 💜 Linzé

A to Z Challenge: Day 16 - P

POT by Linzé

One day I was itching to draw something a little more challenging, so I decided to compose a still life. I photographed the greyish pot standing on a draped piece of black fabric I found in Francois' studio. I used my phone to capture the still life.

It was done with Faber-Castell Polychromos pencils on black paper.

A to Z Challenge: Day 15 - O

Oryx by Linzé

A drawing I did a while back - white pencil on black paper. The photograph was taken by an ex-colleague who kindly gave his permission for me to use it.

A to Z Challenge: Day 14 - N

Charlene Namdhari's A STRANGER'S AFFECTION

** a book feature **

e-Book

“There is nothing stronger than a broken woman who has rebuilt herself.” – Hannah Gadsby

Revenge is a deadly weapon. But it takes a special kind of vengeance to make a woman kill without remorse, to laugh without mirth, to challenge without thought. Kidnapped at seventeen, held captive and then forced into the world of crime, Nishani Scott Callahan defines fearless.

Back with her family eleven years later and ready for normalcy, fate strikes another blow. Abducted on her honeymoon, she’s severely assaulted. Fierce determination sees her escaping straight into the headlamps of a stranger's vehicle.

Billionaire Colton Black is hardcore. A man who treads a fine line between good and bad. He's got no time for love, until a rough pearl with dark hair and deep blue eyes lands in his lap, badly beaten and missing a chunk of her memory. Saving her means risking his guarded privacy, but her feistiness when she awakens catches him completely off-guard.

Equally unprepared, Nishani can’t fathom this ferociously controlled man who appears to reach past her scars to touch her fractured soul.

Will he be her salvation or her ruin?

AMAZON Kindle

About the Author

  Born and raised in the coastal city of Durban, South Africa, she now lives in the City of Gold, Johannesburg. Charlene’s days are an energetic mixture of a full time job, a wife and mom to two beautiful teenagers and four dogs.

  She holds a law degree and is a passionate events manager. 

  Charlene enjoys travelling, a Mediterranean cruise being her most recent venture. She hopes to retire to a beautiful seaside cottage where she can spend lazy days on the beach drinking cocktails and focus all her energy on writing. She is of the firm opinion that one should not give up on a dream but rather make every attempt to get there no matter how long it takes. 

  Her love for writing stemmed from an avid interest in English at School, more so Literature and enjoyed writing short stories. She attempted her first full length novel fifteen years ago and although she loved the finish product decided she’d write mainly as a hobby and only recently sought publishing.

Believing writing is the wings to holistic escapism, she makes the time in her busy schedule giving life to her dreams of bringing together passion filled heroes and heroines in a happily ever after.

A to Z Challenge: Day 13 - M

Memories of Moments by Andrea Vermaak

I have a small magnetic white board on the side of my fridge. When I first moved into my own place, I wrote, 

“The small, seemingly meaningless moments make the most extraordinary memories.” 

This quote (my own) is still there on that tiny white board because it’s so true in my life.

I’ve had the privilege of meeting many people and travelling a bit, but it’s not visiting Edinburgh Castle or London Tower, or meeting Just Jinger or The Parlotones that stand out in my mind as some of my fondest memories, nor could I say that they lie hidden in my heart as something sacred.

Edinburgh Royal Mile - photo by Andrea

Some of my fondest memories are those from my university days when we’d sit on the grass outside of the Humanities building. We’d “invent” coding for a virus that would ruin students’ assignments when they printed them from a Word document and laugh at our own ridiculousness. We’d come up with theories about why there were so many random mounds on campus. We’d almost believe that there really were invisible trees that we keep on walking into, which would explain any previously inexplicable headaches.

I will never forget how utterly happy I felt on the way back from an all-day rock show with my friends. The stadium’s catering plan fell short, so we were all parched, starving and exhausted. But I was lying in the backseat of a best friend’s mini on our way to Uncle Fouzi’s in Hatfield for a midnight feast and I couldn’t have been happier. I could lie and say that I was happy because the day was rather epic despite adequate sustenance, but honestly, I was happy because I was with two of my great friends, whom I love dearly, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

One memory I hold very closely to my heart is indeed one of when I was on a working-holiday in Edinburgh, but it almost definitely is not what you’d expect. A small group of us who were temporarily staying in a backpackers’ hostel decided to go out one evening. It was close to sunset. I can’t for the life of me remember where we were going, but I remember that we decided to walk down one of the many narrow closes that run off of The Royal Mile. Once we reached the end of the close, we suddenly stopped. No one said anything. We just stood side by side and watched as the last rays of the sun touched the buildings of New Town far below us. No photograph could ever capture the golden colours and quiet reverence of that moment. You could only feel it. You had to be there.

Photo by Andrea

You cannot possibly recreate any of these moments without losing something fundamental in the very fabric of their existence. They may seem frivolous and worthy of forgetting to most, but they seem to cling to my heart and mind. That is why the quote on the Winnie the Pooh magnet on my very same fridge rings true to me regarding the seemingly insignificant moments: “Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

A to Z Challenge: Day 12 - L

Lemons and Lemonade by Carmen Botman

While I’ve been handed many lemons during my lifetime (who hasn’t?) there are a few big ones that have stood out.

I’ve always considered myself to be a writer – and this was my ultimate goal. I was utterly convinced that I would be a full-time writer one day, living in a remote cottage somewhere in the world, producing novel after novel. I completed my first manuscript a week before my eighteenth birthday. I was on my way to achieving my dream.

Big lemon number one was when I was told by my parents that I should consider studying something tangible – that is, something more tangible than writing. I ended up studying Occupational Therapy – a profession chosen purely by chance. While I still wrote some during my studies and after, this ‘lemon’ had provided me with a fair amount of job satisfaction and had afforded me the opportunity to live, work and travel abroad. I suppose you could say that I had made my lemonade.

In the years that followed I continued working as an OT and achieved some of the societal goals that are generally placed upon us. In 2010 I received the second big lemon, when my husband and I had to make an abrupt cross-country move for an indefinite period of time. My husband was furthering his studies and we ended up seeing very little of each other for about four years. But in that time, I met a fantastic group of writers who took me under their wings and during that period I was able to complete my first full-length novel and had my first short stories published. I had made some more lemonade and was once again on my way to fulfilling my dream – or so I thought. Just as my husband completed his studies, lemons rained down on us from all directions and we went through a rough patch with little time (or energy) for anything else but survival.

Then I became a mother – under immense lemon-like conditions. And three years after the first, we had another. Suffice it to say that my days had become intensely busy and blurry and exhausting. I suppose one could say that these were lemons being thrown in my way of becoming a writer. Well, if they (my kids) were (the lemons), then I had managed to make the most delicious lemon meringue from it! But every so often the yearning to write – to create – returns. Sometimes so intensely that it takes my breath away.

My point is this: Life will constantly hand you lemons. But we’re able to turn them into something much more meaningful. We don’t have to settle for the hand that we’re dealt. And yes, we may have to adapt the way we plan to reach our goals, but we don’t have to throw up our hands and cry ‘Woe is me.’ And we never have to give up on our dreams. On the contrary. Lemons are opportunities in disguise. We all have the ability to change things in our lives for the better. It might change overnight, or it might take years. But if you’re happy on your journey, does it really matter how you achieve your goals? If I had refused all those lemons, imagine all the opportunities I would have missed out on. No, I am not producing novel after novel, but I am happy with what I am still able to create after the kitchen has been cleaned and my boys are sound asleep. And being happy with and in yourself is all that really matters – isn’t it?

Find out more about Carmen on her website

A to Z Challenge: Day 11 - K

Kayelle Allen's A STOLEN HEART (a book feature)

After rescuing a half-alien / half-human child who's running for his life, warrior-turned-entrepreneur Luc Saint-Cyr stumbles onto a conspiracy at the highest levels of the powerful Thieves' Guild. Complicating matters, Luc's immortal ex might be involved.

Now Luc must deal with his ex, find a home for the child, squelch the flames of conspiracy and eradicate its perpetrators. As if that's not enough, an unseen enemy is undoing every good thing Luc accomplishes.

But when it comes time to give up the child to a family who can care for him, how will Luc bear to part with the adorable little boy who has stolen his heart...

Excerpt 

All this friendliness stank of a trap.

Luc Saint-Cyr paced the length of the Negotiator's observation deck and back. No short distance. The view of Kelthia's black seas from space filled one transparent wall. From here, Miraj City glowed like a million lampyris birds trapped in a net, subject to the whim of their masters.

His luxurious top-of-the-line private transport entertained twenty passengers in comfort for a month and navigated hyperspace without nav-crystals. But when the ship reached his king's monstrous bird of prey, Le Persequor would ingest Luc's vessel like a hawk gulping a flitting gnat.

Once Luc boarded, he'd be no more free than a lampyris, with his net the grace of his king.

He played the man's holovid again.

"Will you meet with me?" Pietas's calm tenor voice offered no overt danger. No concrete menace. No definable threat.

His king was smiling, but that meant nothing. Pietas smiled when commanding his panther to devour an enemy too.

Since receiving the message two days ago, Luc had replayed it at least thirty times. Dread choked him, each time.

No, this was too simple. Too short. Too cordial. Too... not Pietas.

Luc had verified the origin and veracity of the message, but still refused to believe it. Even he, the closest Pietas had to a true friend, received commands, not requests.

"I'm only one jump away from Kelthia. Uurah will let you know when we reach orbit. I hope you won't leave the planet before I get there."

Since when did Pietas say he hoped you wouldn't do anything? He flat out told you.

"Talk to you soon." Pietas reached down, off camera. From the motion, he had to be petting the panther. His smile pierced the holocam. "Can't wait to see you, Cyken." The scene went black.

A tap skipped the vid back to its final image. Luc zoomed in on his king's face. No wrinkles around the eyes, no lines around the noble mouth. Pietas had been reborn and the age difference showed. Makeup and poorly lit images hid plenty, but only an immortal with a planet-sized ego would think he could shave off that many years and the mortal public wouldn't notice. Why would he risk revealing their biggest secret?

Immortal blood brought mortals back from the dead.

They'd soon learned never to reveal what they were. The brazen entitlement of mortals to commandeer an immortal's blood for their own use put his people at risk. Had for millennia.

Luc looped back to the final sentence. "Can't wait to see you, Cyken."

As an Ultra, Luc had lived thousands of years among mortals, and had used hundreds of different names over his many lifespans. His Sempervian name never changed. Not to his king. To his king, Cyken was a family name. Family was everything.

But the disquieting way Pietas had crooned that last sentence layered implications Luc preferred not to consider. The man never missed an opportunity to flirt, no matter how many years they'd been apart. What issue did Pietas have with the word no?

And now this baffling holovid. In over thirty-four hundred years since their exile from Sempervia, when had the king come to him instead of summoning?

Luc powered off the vid. "That would be never."

A Stolen Heart, sci fi from Kayelle Allen

Want to know when this book is available? Like to have a free read before it's out? Join one of Kayelle's reader groups. You'll also get free starter books right away. https://kayelleallen.com/reader-groups/

Kayelle Allen writes Sci Fi with misbehaving robots, mythic heroes, role playing immortal gamers, and warriors who purr. She is the author of multiple books, novellas, and short stories. She's also a US Navy veteran and has been married so long she's tenured.