Category Archives: supernatural
If you wish to die with dignity, you should move before you ever get sick to one of the three states that can realistically help you.
Oregon, Vermont or Washington
Be aware you’ll have to establish residency before anyone will touch you with a ten foot pole and that can take up to a year.
Montana and New Mexico laws are so conflicting that getting a doctor to assist may be impossible. While a court ruling allows doctors the right to assist in suicide if they get the patient’s written permission, it is still considered a felony crime.
Did you know $170 billion, of Medicare is spent on patients’ last six months of life? Six months of torment and pain that most would have preferred to escape.
Turns out, the more educated you are, the more likely you will request death with dignity.
Another interesting tidbit is that not everyone who gets the lethal prescription needed to die actually takes them. More than half do, but a great deal of patients use it as the back-up plan, hanging on as long as they can, but knowing they have an out, if the pain becomes too much.
In Oregon, the number of patients requesting Death with Dignity increases each year.
While the law allows anyone over the age of 18, mentally able, and a resident of the state to have the right to die, if they are fatally ill, the core ages requesting to die are age 66 to 74, with the median age of 71
79% of deaths are due to malignant cancers.
63% of the people dying have private medical insurance which doesn’t surprise me. This group will be likeliest to receive ‘medical care’ that cannot actually save the person, and often does great harm. Thus a person has more incentive not to be tortured and watch all their saving be siphoned off to doctors rather than leaving it for their spouse and children.
Honestly, after reading the massive paperwork required to legally die, I can understand why Cass didn’t even try to move to another state. She would have traveled all the way to New Mexico only to discover the right to die with dignity had been revoked. Then she would have flown up to Oregon and discovered by the time she became a citizen (1 yr) and filled out the mass of paper work she’d already be dead.
No she’s satisfied with her home alone plan.
Requires Rescue Series
When 80 year old Cass Goldman learns she has inoperable cancer, she decides to end her life, peacefully on her terms. So imagine her horror when she wakes to find herself in a hospital with strange rich people staring at her. It’s not until the doctor arrives to examine her that she realizes she’s no longer old. She’s in the body of a seventeen year old teen named Casey.
Unfortunately, her new body comes with some serious baggage. First of all, the kid has burned every bridge imaginable. Secondly, those ‘people’ in her room are her outrageously rich parents and while the Dad seems friendly, the mother wants nothing to do with her. The moment they take her home to a horrifically huge mansion, which she dubs Tara, she’s abandoned to the care of the butler.
While Cass is determined to turn this train wreck of a life around, doing so is far harder than she expected. In fact, without help, she’ll end up dead just like the last occupant of this body. Thankfully, her dad has his hunky head of security become her body guard. Between her eighty years of life lessons and hunky Troy’s help, she just might live long enough not to be jail bait.
Tears flowed again, not for Cass’s death, but for the distress her dear friend would suffer.
“Better than watching me die in a hospital,” she muttered and willed her tears away. She placed the letter in an envelope and put two stamps on it, uncertain of the going postal rate. It changed so often.
She then went upstairs and gathered the bottles of painkillers she’d acquired over her lifetime. Most had expiration dates from years ago, but hopefully they could still kill her.
Returning to the kitchen, she placed the garage door clicker on the table as promised. While pouring green tea into a large plastic bottle, she called her dog.
Jess didn’t respond.
Her small, beautiful old dog entered, tail down, eyes worried.
Did her dog know what she planned? Did he not wish to take this journey with her?
Did she have the right to do this to Jess? But who would want her twenty-year-old dog?
Tears streamed down her face and she sat down on a chair so she could pet her faithful friend. “You don’t have to come. You can stay here. I’ll put out enough food for you to survive until they come find me. I’ll ask Victoria to find you a good home.”
Jess whined and pressed his head against her legs.
“It’s okay. You’re not ready. But I gotta go while I still have a say about the path I’m taking.”
Leaning over, she kissed the dog’s soft forehead. “I love you and I always will.”
Her tears fell into Jess’s eyes, making him pull back and whine again.
She gathered her plastic bottle of tea, placed her three large containers of painkillers in her pocket, and headed to the door. Jess followed right behind her. Before she opened the door, she studied her dog. “You sure you want to come?”
He wagged his tail twice.
A sense of relief eased her pained heart. She didn’t want to leave her dog. Jess would be miserable without her.
“Come on then. Our last journey.” She led the way and locked the door behind them.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Liza O’Connor is a nut.
Not a real nut, but she is prone to being a smart ass at times, and not surprisingly her heroines say odd and inappropriate things in her book, as well. So even in a suspense novel you can expect to laugh along the way. That’s because Liza loves to see humor in the crazy world around her.
Saving Casey was actually the first book Liza published. Having recently reclaimed her rights to the book, she is happily re-publishing it as her 18th book. And because her books sell better when in a series, she using Saving Casey to kick of a new series called Requires Rescue. It will be different from her other series where the same characters show up in each book. This series will be about strong women who are trying to go it alone, only when help is offered, they have the good sense to accept the helping hand, because in all of our lives, there will come a time you need someone else to help you. Being strong doesn’t make us invincible. Book 1 is Casey/Cass’s story. Book 2 will be about an entirely different young woman who desperately needs help before she’s murdered on the streets of NYC. Book 3, well the plot is super unique, and more books will follow.
You’ll be able to read the series in any order you want, but in each case, you’ll have a strong young woman, a guy stepping up to help when no one else does, and danger galore with humor stuffed in anywhere I can.
I hope you’ll come along with me so you can laugh, love, and get revenge.
FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT
Caitlin King can’t believe that her shopaholic cousin actually bought two ghosts off of eBay. But she can’t ignore the truth when she starts seeing sexy Liam O’Reilly, who’s been dead for over a hundred years. He’s a fascinating specter, and the more time Caitlin spends with him, the closer they become—sending them both spiraling into a star-crossed tailspin. No matter how desperately they long for each other, there’s just no future with a guy who’s already stopped breathing.
Multi-published author Sandra Cox writes YA Fantasy, Paranormal and Historical Romance, and Metaphysical Nonfiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters and an occasional foster cat. Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her screened in porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee and enjoying a good book. She’s a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast.
Book 1 in the Silver Wolf Clan saga
What happens when monsters turn out to be real? One summer night while camping in the woods, Morgan Carter finds out in a big way. A tall mysterious stranger, Greyson Crawford, risks his life to try and save her sister from the vicious wolf attacking their camp. When he’s bitten and disappears into the night, Morgan can only assume the worst.
Greyson shows up a year later, and he’s a different animal altogether. His eye color shifts constantly and the rumble in his throat sounds more animal than human. She hasn’t any idea where he’s been all this time, but a good guess as to what he’s become.
Grey is determined not to let the darkness of his new existence affect Morgan and the little girl in her care. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Morgan but knows he should stay away and let her live a normal life. That’s easier said than done, though. A new danger pulls him from the shadows to keep her safe, and he’s no wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Can she accept what lurks just below his surface? More importantly, can she survive him?
Kensington Books: http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/30513
Tera Shanley writes in sub-genres that stretch from Paranormal Romance, to Historic Western Romance, to Apocalyptic (zombie) Romance. The common theme? She loves love. A self-proclaimed bookworm, she was raised in small town Texas and could often be found decorating a table at the local library. She currently lives in Dallas with her husband and two young children and when she isn’t busy running around after her family, she’s writing a new story or devouring a good book. Any spare time is dedicated to chocolate licking, rifle slinging, friend hugging, and the great outdoors. For more information about Tera and her work, visit http://www.terashanley.com.
Greyson’s muscles quivered under Morgan’s hand but it likely had nothing to do with the cool rain. He opened his eyes slowly and the brilliance of the golden color pooled there was almost too dazzling to look directly at. Like staring at the sun. No one would mistake those for human eyes.
If she’d had any doubt before about the brand of monster he’d become, those liquid amber eyes put them to rest. He pulled his hood back and the chin-length dark blond hair from her memory fell forward into his face. She moved a strand to the side. He’d lost weight in the past year. He hadn’t had an ounce to lose in the first place, but it looked as if he’d struggled to stay healthy. His eyebrows, just a shade darker than his hair, were furrowed but he let her drink him in. He was playing fair. For all she knew, he’d been watching her the entire year. It was her turn now.
His nose was straight and his jaw line masculine. From the brief moments she’d known him out in those woods, she’d seen how intoxicating he was. He’d been a fearless warrior bent on that murdering wolf’s destruction, no matter the cost. Here, in the dirty alley under the relentless clouds, with those glorious feral eyes and a snarl in his chest, Greyson Crawford was utterly consuming.
Softly, she said, “You’re beautiful.”
His shaky whisper tore at her. “I’m a monster.”
From author ETTA JEAN, her latest, The Shaughnessy File, first in a five-book series:
Welcome to the 3rd District in New York City, where pumpkins become limos and corporations are kingdoms in this modern take on classic faerie tales.
Trouble starts in the Shaughnessy household when youngest daughter Aenya starts dancing her way through her shoes every night—without ever leaving her room! She keeps her double life a secret from all the men who try to find the truth, but then private investigator Hiro Michaels arrives on the scene. Can she find a way to have her dreams and her love all at the same time?
Kienan Shaughnessy throws his dreams of a musical career on a wild gamble that takes a detour once he meets plain nightingale Madelyne Winters. The young innkeeper has been burned by love and cursed by hate, and she can’t trust anyone as beautiful as swan-like Kienan. Can he teach her to sing a love song before it’s too late?
Eldest sibling Taegan Shaughnessy unexpectedly gets a new pair of glass slippers as he pines for a princess out of his reach. Station and impropriety alike threaten to keep Kalliope Tavoularis from having the man she loves, but this princess won’t take anything lying down. Can some help from an unlikely faerie godmother stop the clock from striking midnight forever?
Mel Shaughnessy is the wild-spirited beauty of the household. Though as smart as he is handsome, his college grades have plummeted past the point of no return. His only hope is the university’s tutor: a woman nicknamed ‘the beast’. Audra Alexandros has no sympathy, and no graces, and yet there’s something about this lone wolf that Mel finds himself helplessly drawn toward. Can the beauty win the beast and close the file on the Shaughnessy Family for good?
“Special delivery!” Kienan told Madelyne cheerfully as he reached her side. “I caught the teacher at the door and decided to save him a trip.”
If she hadn’t been sure that he was behind it, she would have never suspected him. She warily got to her feet and took the carnation he was holding out. The card was blank and she blinked at it. “It’s not signed.” What was this maddening male up to?
“It’s not?” He peered at the card. “How are you supposed to know who it’s from then? Ah! Wait. I bet this will help.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. Before she could stop him, he had taken the card and scrawled his distinctive signature across it. “There. That ought to do it.”
“Oh my god!” a girl in the back of the room blurted excitedly. “Kienan Shaughnessy is courting Madelyne Winters!”
The entire room erupted into an excited buzz. It was the most interesting thing to happen in a long time, and definitely the most romantic thing to happen ever.
“No!” Madelyne said hastily, trying to wave her hands in the air for attention. “No, he’s not! Kienan,” she pleaded, looking at her ‘admirer,’ “tell them the truth!”
“What truth?” He grinned. “I am courting you, nightingale.”
AVAILABLE AUGUST 2014 from PDMI Publishing!
Etta Jean was made in England but born in Sacramento, California. Her destiny as a bard was somewhat inevitable. Little else can explain how she constantly told her mother tall tales so outlandish that she couldn’t even get grounded for them. A love of worlds created by others eventually brought out the desire to create her own, and she has never looked back. She has seen both good and evil in her life, and her stories, like life, have no half measures. Her happy endings never come without cost, though, for she truly believes we can’t appreciate the good and the joy without the bad and the pain along the way.
Her current haunt is a comfy house in her beloved Sacramento where she wrangles four feline fur-kids and consumes peppermints like mana in order to balance a calendar filled with more creative venues than a sane person should realistically undertake. If she’s not chained to her desk, she’s stomping through the scenery in search of equally fantastical photographs.
Thanks for being with us today. I’ve enjoyed reading your snippets and excerpts of this story—glad you could be here!
First, would you tell us a bit about yourself? Hi. I’m S.A. Check and I’m a sci-fi / fantasy author. Thanks for having me!
What area of the country do you live in, do you have a family, pets, etc.? I grew up and write from southwestern PA. I’m a product of a coal mining patch town that filled the days of my youth with adventures exploring abandoned mine shafts, swimming in ponds, and having winter bonfires in deserted coke ovens. My wife is an E.R. nurse and I have a tween daughter whose imagination dwarfs my own.
Are you a coffee fiend, or do you have another “addiction” you must have on your desk at all times? Every few years I think my taste buds may have matured enough that I’ll enjoy a hot cup of java and I’ll give it a shot but it still tastes like crap to me (apologies to all coffee lovers out there). I can’t say there’s any certain flavor that I have a particular bias towards but, in general, not my cup of…yeah you get it. I do love me some milk but my wife and daughter laugh when I order vanilla milk instead of calling it white. What?
What’s your education, if it’s relevant to your writing, and how does that education help you/or do you find that you can write well even without the diploma others might think they must have? I’m a PennState grad and proud of it. My degree is in English / Writing Option and while it may not have been the best suited to help me land a job in the market post-graduation, I’m still glad I travelled that literary road. Do you need a degree like mine to pursue a writing career? Absolutely not, but it forced me to examine a lot more divergent genres than I had before college and I really feel it helped me round out as a writer.
Tell us about your most recent publication. Welcome to GreenGrass is a straight up science fiction fantasy adventure centered on a murder mystery. I started writing the novel back in 2008 and have revised and re-touched it more times than I can count. The story is about family, in whatever non-traditional form it may take, and what it means to be a part of the world around you. The main character, John Traveller, is tested and torn but at his center he holds true to some core beliefs. When Dave Barnett from Bedlam Press / Necro Publications decided to pick it up, I was thrilled this would be my debut title. I’ve finished a couple other novels since GreenGrass but it’s always held a special place for me.
What inspired you to write this story? This was the kind of book that I would lose myself in as a reader, a world built all on my own with endless possibilities and countless tales that could spring from within the domed city. I enjoyed every minute of crafting GreenGrass and it really was a novel that I wrote as much for myself than the prospect of publishing but then you come to the point that it’s done and you say, “I wonder if anyone else would like this?”, and here I am.
How would you best describe your books? I try to keep my books fast, fun, and entertaining. I consider myself plot-centric at times and I spend a lot of effort in pulling together tight story arcs. I just want a reader to enjoy themselves and read the last page and be a little disappointed that the ride is over but be glad they bought the ticket.
What is your favorite genre to write? Most of my writing leans towards worlds of the fantastical nature. I think science fiction and fantasy really allow an author to let loose with their imaginations and disregard convention a bit but I’ve done a few realistic fiction shorts that I’m proud of too. Check out Tangled Lines, a short story I contributed to a charity anthology, Hazard Yet Forward, out last year.
To read? I read a lot of scifi and fantasy novels but I always grab something totally out of genre every fourth or fifth book when it catches my eye. I enjoy Jim Butcher’s Dresden series and lately I’ve been reading A. Lee Martinez’s work, and I read Joe Hill’s Horns. If you keep my entertained, maybe a chuckle or two along the way, I’ll read it, even if it’s the instruction manual to my microwave.
What would you write if you could write anything you wanted to write? Wow…that’s up there with a wood chuck would chuck wood. I think I’m already writing the kind of tales I want. I grew up on comics and they’ve influenced my writing as much as anything else I’ve read. I really put everything I can into one of my novels and try not to hold back. I keep the strong language to a minimum and the violence intrinsic to the story. One of my favorite things about John Traveller in Welcome to GreenGrass is his use of the word thunderin’ in lieu of other curse words. It’s fun and really adds something to his character.
What do you most like about writing? I love the initial phases of creating and developing a project. The idea phase when you’re trying to piece together something and see if the kindle (no pun intended) takes flame. Maybe it’s a thought here or a twist there that I jot down until the novel begins to take focus. I always try to outline my novels to a certain degree and it’s the one point in the process that I let loose with pen to paper and scribble down some mad notes. Outlining by hand feels very organic and I enjoy watching it take shape.
Least like? I should say revisions and it can become tedious after the first few run throughs but as long as I know the story will be better for the effort, than I can’t really say I mind.
Do you belong to any writing groups? I’ve been a member of Pennwriters for several years now and they really are an excellent group. The conferences they hold are top notch for both networking with other writers, classes into the craft of writing, and meeting industry contacts along the way.
Tell us a little about your path to publication. Like a million other writers, I’ve received more than my fair share of rejections from prospective publishers. I’ve kept a rather simple philosophy to the whole process. Every time I received a rejection, it was just a reminder that I’m still in the game and another opportunity to fine tune my pitch. I kept writing and refining. One of my favorite sayings is that you can’t fail if you never quit. When Necro Publications agreed to publish Welcome to GreenGrass under its Bedlam Press imprint, it was a thrill and especially so because you finally find a literary home and someone who appreciates you as a writer. David Barnett, the main man at Necro, has simply been awesome to work with and to have someone with his experience and talent backing you makes the whole process that much more fulfilling.
How many books did you write before selling one? I have three books in the done bin prior to getting the green light for Welcome to GreenGrass and several others in various states of completion. I’m really glad that this one turned out to be my debut novel and has always held a special place for me. GreenGrass touches on so many of literary influences to this point in my career and I literally have an entire notebook of notes and scribbles, circled passages, arrows, and filled margins while I was crafting it. Maybe I can include some of the more busy pages when I release the twentieth anniversary edition? Hey, you never know!
How did you find a publisher? You have to put the time in! Finding a match for where you want to be and be comfortable with who’s handling your work. Necro was looking to expand its sci-fi fantasy imprint with Bedlam Press and I had the right submission at the right time.
How did you receive the Call? David Barnett reached out to me and said he really enjoyed my manuscript and wanted to add it to Necro Publication’s line-up and it didn’t take much for me jump on board. There’s a definite feeling of satisfaction to reaching your goal of publication.
What are you writing now? I have another novel ready to go. It’s another trip through a fantastical world but with a twist that I hope the readers of Welcome to GreenGrass will cross over and enjoy also. It focuses on friendship and family and the characters find out a bit about themselves along the way. Oh yeah, there’s murderous ghosts, virtual worlds, and high tech armored enforcers too!
What’s next for you—will you be making personal appearances anywhere our readers can find you? I plan on making the rounds to several sci-fi and writing conventions throughout the coming year and I’ll be posting specific dates and locations on my blog as the dates approach. I was down at the Virginia Comicon last month and had a great time meeting and talking with so many of the folks who attended.
What would you like to tell readers? That’s easy. Thank you! Sincerely! By reading my work, you give me the privilege of building worlds to capture your imagination and attempt to hold on long enough to leave you with something more than when we started and if it can change a perception or add to a perspective or keep you entertained, then I’ve accomplished something worthwhile.
Here’s a link to the book –
and one for the book trailer –
There have always been alleys. Whether in a big city, a small town, or the end of the world, the spaces in between, the dark corners of civilization, have always needed a place to breathe. The Mayans had Tikal, Rome raised the bar, and the Big Apple grew into a city that never slept. Too many eyes made secrets difficult to hide. Worlds need those pockets, the urban closets that hide the skeletons of a modern society. Just as sure as the sun rises, even if it’s not the one you’re expecting, there are places that never see the light of day.
Resting against the fire escape grating, John Traveller knew as well as any that even the cast-outs and misfits needed a place to call home. For two nights straight, he watched the same alley from his metal perch and all he had to show was a sore back and numb fingers. The dual red moons overhead stared back at him, a constant reminder this world was not his own. Not that he needed any.
“Another thunderin’ dead end.” Traveller tossed a stone at a garbage can. The clang echoed down the alley. “I guess you can’t surprise anyone if there’s no one here.”
He laid a single barrel shotgun on the grating beside him and pulled a small notebook from his back pocket. The calculations seemed right. Traveller looked over all his data at least ten times. It looked like he missed his mark on this one. He couldn’t wait any longer. They would all be expecting him back at the house. He made it up to one knee when something caught his eye near the ground.
A blue pinhole of light hovered over the quiet cobble stoned street, floating in the evening air, unaware it hadn’t existed moments before. Traveller felt the air in the alley pull towards the floating glow. The tails of his trench coat bustled in the artificial breeze. And then everything stopped, like the moment before someone unleashed a sneeze.
The radiance rushed out into the night, erupting from its center and blowing discarded trash down the passage. A pair of tennis shoes emerged inside the pulsing glow. They hovered in the brisk night air before a figure gushed out of the portal, flowing through like a water slide without the benefit of a pool underneath. The confused rider struck the ground hard, tumbling end over end until skidding to a stop on his stomach. The body remained motionless.
Traveller chuckled. That may have been one of the top five most unglamorous entrances he ever witnessed. The naked guy from a couple months back would still be hard to beat. From his shadowed vantage, Traveller watched the bewildered figure scrambling along the ground. His red jogging pants and t-shirt that read Start Slow Then Back It Down was covered in whatever muck accumulated on alley floors. The man clung to his elbow that took the brunt of the initial impact and blood seeped out between his fingers.