Category: Blog

REMEMBRANCE OF NOBILITY

“You ready to go on?” Bollero — my butler sidekick — grimaced, not too sure I was.

I gave him a quick stare. “Time already?”

“They’ve been waiting awhile for your first blog on the new website. I’d say an expectant crowd after your trailer buildup.”

“Tough act to follow. How do I look?”

“Fine…except your tie could be better.”

“No fretting over that. Look, just get on with introducing me. And make it simple.”

Reluctantly, Bollero peered at the viewers, then in a booming, bass voice, announced: H-E-E-E-E-E-R-R-R-R’S GERALD!

I waved to the scant applause and a couple of giggles, squeezing out a Broadway smile. “Hi, folks. Welcome to my new wonderland.”

“Your tie’s CROOKED!” a viewer yelled.

Always a heckler, I thought. “What I’m about to say will take your mind off of that,” I answered, a profound edge to my voice.

“I hope it’s to tell us why we should buy your book,” another viewer piped up. “Especially at $19.50 when we can get eBooks for ninety-nine cents.”

That elicited a sardonic smirk. “But what do you GET? Not rare quality, which emanates from every page of my book. Such superb quality doesn’t come cheap.”

“Aw, c’mon,” another viewer yelped. “Romance is romance, and we can get it cheaper!”

“Not this romance. But my book is not a romance book, though it has strong elements of romance. Neither is it a mystery book, though it has strong elements of mystery; nor is it a thriller, though it rings of strong elements of one; nor is it a mystical book, though it deals with the unknown. No. Spitting out genres like a Gatling gun, The Gods Of Winter is above any one genre in achieving its nobility, slowly accumulating its touch of rare quality in riveting gasps.”

“Nobility?” a viewer questioned. What gives your book nobility?”

“In part, a noble life,” I pointed with a solemn finger.

A quiet stillness settled over the viewers.

“The life of my fiancee’,” I continued, “Jane Valentine — portrayed by Gloria Hopkins in the novel, fiction based upon fact. As the story’s odyssey unfolds, you will see the nobility of Jane in Gloria. See Gloria — Jane– as such a wonder of life, possessing such a rare gift for savoring it, embracing it, eagerly reaching out and sharing its zest and love with others, with animals, embellishing their lives with the enhancing joys of living, so thankful for the marvels of life and being alive to enjoy them. For Jane, life was an amazing bundle of rainbows to be savored to the fullest, their every moment precious.

“Jane died a tragic death before her time, leaving a vacancy of spirit that will never be filled. This, too, is in the novel. Her unexpected death was the driving force urging me to write this novel; its writing a spiritual quest so that the wondrous memory of Jane would never be lost to the fading whispers of time.

So now, I ask for your help in preserving the memory of this gallant, selfless, noble being, a rare creature of nature, the likes of which we may never see again.

Buy the book, not for me, but for Jane, carrying on her memory, while the glow of her spirit transforms you with awe.

The Gods of Winter

NEW NOVEL COMING SOON

Ah, yes folks, my cherished loyal fans and others, it has been a while since I have last posted — gads, almost two years!

It has been tough clearing out all the cobwebs here, and my butler and staff have long cleared out, leaving me nasty notes, some with lewd drawings. But undaunted, a new butler and staff are on their way here to join in a most remarkable undertaking, rather breathtaking.

You see, my absence in posting is because I have been preoccupied in the gut wrenching, emotionally draining, teary-eyed task of writing a new novel, one different and unequaled, a story so powerful that my publisher expects it to sell in the thousands of copies.

This novel is THE GODS OF WINTER, fiction based on fact, some of the facts touching upon the author’s personal experiences; a suspenseful tale of captivating happenings and interlocking, vibrant, unforgettable characters, centering out of this varying mix, two of  them — a man and woman, each notable and compelling in their own right — are unlikely brought together, as though by fate, developing a rare and daring love of endurance between them, all the while their love is cruelly set upon by a mysterious, crafty unknown force lurking with the inexplicable seeds of madness, inexorably leading the couple down a harrowing path shattering the life of their love, and the lengths one is driven to, to save that love. Love and madness pulling in a range of characters to an eventual intense, ravaging backdrop of failing hopes, trickery, blackmail, and sanity, and an unexpected ending.

This short overview in no way can give you the undefinable impact of the story, for really, it is beyond words and description, and has to be felt, sucked into the very cells of your being as you become immersed in the story’s unfolding, ranging magnetism; immersed in its wonder of humor and laughter, tragedy and sadness, hope and despair, and the unexpected bafflement of life unraveling before you, leaving you pondering in deep awe.

THE GODS OF WINTER will be coming soon, to be released sometimes around this coming October.

When it is released, I will be making another posting.

In the meanwhile, tennis, anyone?

 

A TALE OF TWO BOOK REVIEWERS II (continuation of A TALE OF TWO BOOK REVIEWERS)

Attired in innocuous garb so as not to draw undue attention, Shane Porteous and Tracey Alley moseyed into the Blues Haven Lounge, a quiet, cozy, out-of-the-way place. After obtaining their drinks at the bar, the two slyly maneuvered their way through the low voices at scattered tables and huddled themselves into a corner table, there sitting across from one another.

“You sure Gerald will be waltzing into this joint?” Shane asked in a resonate baritone, his words contemplative as he sipped at his martini, his look that of a sleepy hawk, not unlike that of a hit man in patient waiting as he scrutinized the people sitting at the other tables.

“Not to worry,” Tracey replied assuredly, sipping her gin and tonic, her voice soft, in tune with her flawless complexion, a confident gleam in her eyes. “I was informed he never misses popping into this lounge — his favorite hangout when he’s in town, and I’ve learned he’s in town…somewhere.” Following another sip of her drink, she added emphatically, “As ingenious as Gerald is in eluding us, this time we’ll NAIL him!”

“Ha!” Shane smirked in that suave manner of his. “No one nails Gerald, no matter what — unless he wants to be nailed.” Pausing, reflecting back with another sip of his martini, he continued. “With his mysterious nature…so unpredictable, figuring out what he’s going to do — nailing him — is like trying to figure out some metaphysical riddle.”

Shane paused again, sipped at his drink, took a deep breath, sighed, then managed a paradoxical grunt. “But I shouldn’t be complaining,” he confessed. “The genius of that nature gave us Of Good And Evil, that ROYALTY of thrillers!”

That reflection suddenly enlivened Shane’s mood. “That thriller royalty,” he beamed, with roguish self-congratulations, “I SO brilliantly alluded to in my gasping, unequaled review of the novel.” Shane sighed — almost ecstatically, then declared, “Such a MASTERFUL review…one for the ages…one whom no OTHER reviewer can possibly TOP — or even come close to doing so in their inept attempt to review the book. My review is just too MAGNIFICENT to beat — EVER!”

Tracey’s eyes glazed over in flabbergasted disbelief upon hearing what Shane had just said, then she felt her face flame, taking his remarks as a nasty slap at HER review of Of Good And Evil. Arching her brows, jutting out her jaw, her eyes now like daggers, Tracey’s rancor laid into Shane with a no-holds-barred verbal barrage.

“What EGO!…what GALL!” Tracey began, “appointing yourself as God’s gift to reviews. Well, let me tell you something, BUSTER! You’re no gift. You’re nothing but a bombastic braggart carried away with shameless self-indulgence! And let me tell you something else. MY review TOPS YOURS — HANDS DOWN — leaving your review withering haplessly in the wind compared to mine.

“As for you’re…you’re royalty of thrillers indulgence, my review defines that royalty more meaningfully…proclaiming more elegantly that Gerald has the rare talent of a born writer…the gift of a true story-teller going that step further that separates writers from great writers…that special way of his taking burning passion to pen in engaging the reader with harrowing action and spine tingling romance right to the end. And Gerald’s SCOPE …taking the reader on a wild ride, the world his background…making the reader believe in his daring plot and his vivid, vibrant characters…leaving the reader to sit back spellbound and with on edge suspense reading his page-turning thriller!

“That, Buster, is THRILLER ROYALTY, thank you! As set forth with majesty in MY mind-blowing, masterful review! So THERE!”

Catching her breath, Tracey quickly took a hard swig of her gin and tonic.

Poker faced, Shane had listened quietly and calmly to Tracey’s incoming, with only an ever so slightly crinkling of the eyes. It was when Tracey was gulping down her drink in respite that his eyes begin to twinkle. Then a faint smile sneaked about his lips, and he said glibly:

“I love it when you get WORKED UP like this. You’re so beautiful…so passionate, giving me such strange stirrings!”

“Now STOP THAT!” Tracey snapped. “None of your wiling guile tricks on me! Just stick to the subject — our reviews.”

Shane shrugged, his smile evaporating. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll meet your review and raise you a review. I’ll mention the great maturity Gerald displays in his writing…never seen in MOST writers’ work. I’ll further point out his uncanny knack for dealing with love. Of all the hundreds and hundreds of books I have read in my life, the love between Ron and Amber in Of Good And Evil is by far the most genuine romance I have ever read about. Not only does it boggle my mind the sheer caliber of talent Gerald possesses, it also boggles my mind that his book is not on the New York Times best seller list. It’s the very embodiment of what a paranormal thriller should be, and…”

“While wrestling with all your mind boggling,” Tracey interrupted, her manner more calm, her ire having waned since Shane’s inexplicable wiling, “I’ll tell you why it isn’t on the list. It’s Gerald’s lack of internet marketing.”

“Ah, so,” Shane begrudgingly agreed. After a measured breath, he quietly concluded, “Gerald doesn’t take to marketing — especially on the internet. He regards it as madness! Well need to twist his arm on this. But speaking of marketing, do you still carry the links to Gerald’s  book with you?”

“Why, yes. In my purse. You want to see them?”

Shane nodded. Tracey fumbled through the contents of her purse until she found what she was searching for. She handed a small sheet of paper to Shane. With the focus of a master strategist. he studied the sheet’s links  while finishing off his martini, gulping down the olive, as master strategists do.

The links he first pondered were those for purchasing OF GOOD AND EVIL, all of them provided on Gerald’s blog my clicking the “Buy the Latest Books!” box at the top of the blog’s Home page. As Shane continued to ponder these and the other links, he grimaced, shook his head, and began rubbing his chin, exclaiming, “Gerald needs a BURST of MAGIC to bring these links to life, so people will be clicking these links in mass. He needs to hit the Internet with real jumping sold out FLOOR SHOWS. He needs to wallow in them!”

Then Shane cringed. “I shudder to think how Gerald will hiss and growl — like some cornered Siberian tiger — and pounce on me for bringing all of this to his attention. But it has to be done. He must get word of his novel out. Its story — a rarity of art many know nothing about — deserves it. A lot of scrambling is needed to extend the thriller’s reach.”

When Shane leaned back, sighing in further contemplation, he noticed that his glass and Tracey’s were both empty, and said, “Just as important, we need another round of drinks, one for you…one for me.”

Tracey’s attention was suddenly grabbed by what she was eyeing at the front of the lounge. “Better make that four drinks,” she said, rather flatly. “The tiger…Gerald…just popped in, waltzing through the door with a tigress purring on his arm, some dazzling blonde looking like the cuddling type.”

WHAT?!…” Shane’s eyes popped wide as he stared at the front door’s entrance, and what he saw brought on an immediate discomfort. “My GOD,” he gasped, “that blonde is Cynthia Westland, the Boston Beauty…some claim the Boston Bomber. She’s another DANG book reviewer. She tried to outdo my review in her’s by parading Gerald’s book as a true masterpiece!”

“Well,” Tracey sighed, looking a bit envious, “I’d say he’s got his hands full with a true masterpiece now.”

“This joint is beginning to crawl with book reviewer lizards!”

“Maybe we could start some kind of weird convention, with Gerald and Cynthia providing the floor show!”

“That’s a TAKE!” Kruger von Griffin yelled out. “Performances…dey SPLENDID! JA…JA!”

 

A TALE OF TWO BOOK REVIEWERS

MY butler — and then some, Bollero, was so shocked that I’m making another posting in the same month as my previous posting, that he had to be hospitalized. Not only that, but when he learned I was making a second posting immediately following, he had to be rushed to the Intensive Care Unit under heavy medication and placed on a ventilator with a tube down his throat because he had stopped breathing.

Ah, such are the perils of life, but Bollero seems to be making a slow, closely monitored recovery from his “posting” trauma in the hospital. Since Bollero always handled my postings here, I’m going to have to handle these two — A TALE OF TWO BOOK REVIEWERS and A TALE OF TWO BOOK REVIEWERS II — myself, so bear with me. It would be of help if you would send flowers to Bollero’s room, where psychiatrists are at the ready. He could certainly use the flowers’ calming effect.

But on to this posting, which is not so calming. It’s original idea was to honor my very good friend, Tracey Alley — among her enticing novels ERICH’S PLEA and URSULEA’S QUEST — and my exceptionally good friend, Shane Porteous — among his compelling novels RACISS and HOW GODS BLEED. Both of these authors, the stars of this posting, have given fantastic reviews of my thriller OF GOOD AND EVIL.

The way I was to honor my two friends was to write a story — which I did — that evolved into Shane and Tracey, rather heatedly, not unlike the banjo contest in the movie DELIVERANCE, debating one another as to who had given the best review of OF GOOD AND EVIL.

But when I finished the story I had strong second thoughts about using it. You see, though I had permission from Shane to use him in the story — sort of like in any way I saw fit, I didn’t have such permission from Tracey. I couldn’t contact her.

My uncle, Kruger von Griffin, the infamous film Director — in an odd twist of DNA, he had a strong heritage of German, with little UK ancestry, while I had a strong UK heritage, with little German ancestry, suggested that I use the story in the form of a dream. As he stated, “Who vould  hold you accountable for anything dat occurs in a dream? Dreams…your dream, acts vith a force of its own beyond your control, so who can hold you responsible for it? Dat vould get you off der hook vith Tracey.”

“Marvelous idea… and solution,” I replied, feeling a greatly relieved..

Further, my uncle suggested that instead of making the story just a dream, make it a movie scene dream under his strong-handed direction, with him responsible for how the dream plays out –he dictating what Shane and Tracey will say, how they will say it, what they will do, their expressions and emoting, and so forth, even if none of this is true or accurate in the two author/reviewers’ real lives. It’s only a dream.

Hearing this further suggestion from my uncle, I felt a certain inner glowing. “Even more marvelous!” I smiled. “Let’s go with that.”

So, before shooting on location in the dream, my uncle had me read these lines, “As dreams go, this one is a doozie! I dreamt it after falling asleep at a P.T.A meeting.”

These lines…my lines, would be the narration heard as a lead in to the movie scene dream action.

Also before shooting, my uncle took Shane and Tracey aside on the movie set in the dream, and said to them, “Ve vant dis scene to be JA JA MOVING, so give it SOME LIFE! Ve don’t vant me yelling, ‘Cut..Cut..Cut,’ so give great performance on der first take! Dat saves money!”

Then Kruger von Griffin shouted, “Everyvone quiet on der set! LIGHTS!…CAMERA!…ACTION!”

(The dream scene action begins on the next post — A TALE OF TWO BOOK REVIEWERS II)



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