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Nature Inspires Gayle Irwin’s Writing
Welcome Lyndi’s Adventurous Friend Gayle Irwin!
I live in central Wyoming, between Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado and Yellowstone National Park in northwestern Wyoming/southwestern Montana. Since childhood, national parks and outdoor spaces have played a large role in my life and in my writing. From camping and hiking to nature photography and cross-country skiing, outdoor adventures delight my soul.
I enjoy traveling. Most times those journeys take me to various public lands. A recent trip to Custer State Park in South Dakota (near Mount Rushmore) brought donkeys to my car door, captured baby bison frolicking in greening meadows, and the song of western meadowlarks trilling from fence posts.
I’m blessed to have two nearby outdoor spaces that sparks my creativity. One is a ranch located 75 miles from my home; the property is owned by friends. About three times a year I travel and stay there for an extended period of time. The sage and grass-covered hills, rolling Powder River, and distant Bighorn Mountains provide solace and inspiration. Livestock and wildlife encounters bring smiles, especially in spring when lambs and white-tailed deer fawns appear in pastures. Sandhill cranes often dance and forage in viewing distance, and songbirds chorus the welcomed, warming weather. Crimson sunrises greet me, and golden sunsets beckon sleep. The quiet relaxes me, and my friends’ generosity brings me joy. The modular guesthouse at which I stay possesses large windows from which one gazes upon the nearby fields and woods. I’ve composed many articles, short stories, and book chapters at this scenic and tranquil place.
The other special space where creativity comes alive is found at our remote, mountain cabin. My husband and I own six acres of forest land just a 20-minute drive from our house. Upon the acreage sits a 540 square foot cabin – we bought a tiny house before tiny houses became popular! At 8,000 feet in elevation, the land is difficult to get to during winter, but from May to October, we spend weekends and weeknights at the property. We use solar panels for electricity and bask in the solitude interrupted only by hooting owls, zipping hummingbirds, and the call of foxes and coyotes. My husband constructed a wooden half-acre enclosure for our dogs to roam. He also built a free-standing deck on which to dine, to read, or to write, all of which happen often. Our acreage brings us great peace, and, for me, much creativity.
I weave nature into many of my books, including two children’s books I’ve composed: A Town Dog Named Mary Visits a Ranch and Cody’s Cabin: Life in a Pine Forest. When I began writing sweet, contemporary, second-chance romance, I wanted to place the stories in areas I know and enjoy, primarily the Yellowstone National Park region. The first book, Rescue Road is set in southwestern Montana; the area near Cody, Wyoming (on the eastern edge of Yellowstone) is the setting for the second book, Finding Love at Compassion Ranch; and my upcoming Christmas novella, titled In the Shadow of Mount Moran, takes place outside of Grand Teton National Park near Jackson, Wyoming. Readers are given a taste of what this unique area known as Yellowstone Country is like through the descriptions, dialogue, and drama in the stories. My primary characters relish the outdoors – just as my husband and I do.
Finding Love at Compassion Ranch released approximately one year ago. The story’s animal sanctuary, Compassion Ranch, is based on a real Wyoming animal sanctuary called Kindness Ranch. This property, located in the eastern part of the state, rescues animals used in research, including dogs, cats, horses, rabbits, sheep, and other creatures, providing them solace and security, loyalty and love. Many of the animals go on to be adopted into loving homes while some reside on the large property for the rest of their lives. The work is unique, and sadly, still necessary due to the various industries that still use animals for research projects. People can visit the ranch, stay on the property, volunteer with the animals, and adopt a furry companion. I dedicated Finding Love at Compassion Ranch to the staff and volunteers of Kindness Ranch. Rescue work is not easy, and I admire what the workers do and the mission of the organization. I have visited twice, and I look forward to going again one day, for truly it is an inspiration!
What is your special place for inspiration?
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Author Bio:
Gayle M. Irwin is an award-winning author and freelance writer, being recognized by Wyoming Writers, Inc., and the Wyoming Press Association for several of her works. She is a contributor to seven Chicken Soup for the Soul books and the author of many inspirational pet books and stories for children and adults. Her sweet, contemporary romance series, Pet Rescue Romance, consists of Rhiann’s Rescue, Rescue Road, My Montana Love, and Finding Love at Compassion Ranch. Gayle volunteers for various dog rescue and humane society organizations and donates a percentage of all book sales to such groups. Learn more about her and her writing and follow her bi-monthly blog on her website: https://gaylemirwinauthor.com/.
Follow Gayle on Social:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/GayleMIrwin
Pinterest (under Waggin’ Tales): www.pinterest.com/gaylemirwin
Twitter: wyoauthor1
Author Website: https://gaylemirwinauthor.com/
Amazon Author Page: amazon.com/author/gayleirwin
Finding Love at Compassion Ranch Book Blurb:
A ranch like no other …
Erin Christiansen is still adjusting to life as a widow. She seeks additional healing by volunteering at Compassion Ranch, a sanctuary for former research animals. Upon arrival at the majestic and unique northwestern Wyoming ranch, she meets Mike, a man she knew in high school, whose compassion for animals and people might be the balm Erin needs.
Retired veterinarian Mike Jacobs is no stranger to loss. Five years after the accidental death of his wife, he now serves as ranch manager of Compassion Ranch. He not only fixes fence and provides tours, but he applies his veterinary skills and his heart for animals to his work. Upon recognizing Erin from high school, he can barely believe his first love will spend a few weeks at the sanctuary.
Can Erin and Mike span the years since they have seen each other or do they, like many of the rescued animals, have wounds that run too deep to trust and love again?
Finding Love at Compassion Ranch Excerpt:
A fire crackled amid the ring of rocks Mike had gathered. As Erin sat next to him, gazing upon the meadow, warmth enveloped her. The horses stood nearby, munching on grass. Shadow lay to her right. The blaze took the chill from the late summer evening, but Mike’s presence, with his arm draped across her shoulder, also warmed her physically and emotionally. The meal and wine filled her stomach as well as her heart and mind. Erin realized she hadn’t felt this relaxed and comfortable in more than a year, since Daniel’s diagnosis. Now, here she was, in a beautiful part of the world amid an animal rescue sanctuary, doing positive work and experiencing the love of a kind, caring man.
Mike’s whisper close to her ear disrupted her thoughts.
“See that?”
She looked at him and then in the direction on which he focused his eyes. A herd of ten elk, cows and calves, captured her attention. Her eyes widened as she inhaled deeply.
“Oh, wow!” she whispered.
Shadow responded either to their voices or to the smell of the animals, for she suddenly sat up.
“Easy, girl,” Mike said in a low, but firm tone. “Stay.”
Erin captured the dog’s leash, affixed to her red collar, in her hand.
“Thanks,” Mike acknowledged, still speaking in a soft voice. “We’re seeing females with their young. The males will start coming out, and they will be bugling soon.”
“What does that mean?” Erin asked in a quiet voice.
“Usually in early September the bulls, male elk, come into what’s known as the rut – the mating season. They make this incredible noise, called a bugle, that announces to other bulls it’s time to fight for females. It’s an amazing sound and an incredible experience to witness.”
“I’d love to see that sometime.”
Mike’s gaze turned to her. “Whenever you want to come back in September, I’ll bring you back up here, and we’ll do just that.”
She smiled and snuggled into his shoulder. After a quick pat to Shadow’s head, Erin returned her gaze to the majestic wild creatures. A contented, soft sigh escaped, and she felt Mike’s embrace tighten around her.
Book Buy Links:
Amazon – Kindle:https://amzn.to/2AM7sLk
Amazon – Print:https://bit.ly/2XhZbq3_CompassionRanchPrint
Barnes & Noble – Nook:https://bit.ly/3gPw3zs
Kobo: https://bit.ly/3cjFofs_Kobo
Books2Read: https://books2read.com/u/4j2RNZ
Thankful for the Internet! #mfrwhooks
Daven Talvi made a choice a quarter-century ago to serve the Bitterroot Elf Clan, allowing the Circle of Elders to send him into suspended animation until the queen could be rescued. In doing so, he gave up his mate and his newborn son, sacrificing his own life for that of the clan.
It had been a mistake.
With the clan now in chaos and the new young queen in hiding, Daven must acknowledge his own errors and take responsibility to set things right. He teams up with Lane Donatelli, a human who has too long used food and computer gaming to feed his own insecurities.
Together, they use Lane’s beloved technology with Daven’s innate magical abilities to wage battle against the evil elf mages threatening the clan.
[Clan Elves of the Bitterroot (Book 3) | Fantasy novel from Dragonfly Publishing, Inc. | Available in Hardback, Paperback, and eBook]
EXCERPT:
“Kev! Come in! Man, you should have called. I woulda come down and saved you the steps.” He stepped aside so Kevin could skinny past him; fortunately, Kevin kept himself in military trim. Lane, on the other hand, had a longstanding love affair with Creamy Cupcakes that kept him mostly round.
Kevin continued into the kitchen. “What’s that noise? I thought you took that hawk back to the forest?”
Lane swallowed hard. “Oh, the hawk. Yeah. Yeah, we did.” He wandered back into the small living room where Crispy sat curled into the corner of their brown Salvation-Army acquired couch.
“That’s a….” Kevin blinked as he leaned on the counter at the pass-through.
“Yep. That’s a baby.” Lane smiled as little Elliun snuggled into Crispy’s arm, both hands on the bottle Crispy had just warmed. Elliun’s blue fleece sleeper zipped all the way to his chin, but Crispy had insisted on wrapping him in a knit blanket, too. Just in case.
Kevin set down the box he’d carried upstairs and walked into the living room, staring. His words dropped like stones. “Where. Did. You. Get. A. Baby.” He glanced first at the door, then at the webcam on the edge of the Cave. “Are we going to have police on the doorstep?”
“Not likely.” Lane sighed. “We’re just…babysitting.”
“Babysitting.” Kevin’s dry tone was laced with skepticism. “Really.”
“At least I hope so.”
Satisfied Crispy was meeting the child’s needs, Lane leaned against the door frame into the kitchen. ‘Babysitting’ wasn’t really the right word. “Kidnapping,’ now that was more accurate, in the legal sense. He’d had to take the baby. He had to. For the baby’s sake. Before something bad happened.
Crispy suspected, but he hadn’t said anything until they got home. Then he’d turned into the perfect little mother, tending to Elliun’s every need. But it didn’t keep the little one from crying. And even though it had been less than two days, the noise and needs of this child grated on Lane’s nerves. More ibuprofen, please…
“Seriously, Lane. Isn’t that your friend’s baby? How long are you keeping it?”
Crispy looked up, a Madonna-like smile on his face. “Until he’s safe. Everyone needs to be safe. You know that. You were a soldier.”
A furrow developed between Kevin’s thin brows. “Well, I can’t argue with you. Everyone sure does need to be safe. It’s just really peculiar.” He inched closer to the couch. “He’s a handsome little guy. But…how did you learn to–”
“Ehow.com,” Lane said. “They also have a page on how to change a diaper and how to mix formula.”
Kevin laughed. “I guess I never looked it up. I had plenty of brothers, aunts, uncles and cousins. We did it all by watching. You want to know how to put a baby to sleep?”
“We learned that on WikiHow,” Crispy said. “They even have a video.”
“Unbelievable.” Kevin shook his head. “Hey…do you think I could hold him?”
Crispy looked suspiciously at Kevin. “Do you have baby credentials?”
“Probably more than you do, Crisp,” Lane said. “Go ahead. It’ll be fine.”
Elliun went to Kevin without a peep, studying his dark face curiously. He reached out to touch Kevin’s skin, then broke into a smile.
“See? He likes you.”
A knock at the door sent them all into shocked silence. Crispy hid his head behind a green sofa pillow. “The government’s here! Your camera told them we’re criminals!”
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It’s good to be the queen — #MFRWHooks
At her friend’s coaxing, Jelani tries on a glass slipper left lying on the sidewalk. When she steps into the shoe, it shatters, cutting her foot. As blood trickles to the pavement and mingles with the broken glass, dozens of two-inch high creatures emerge and then scurry away into the shadows. Soon she is approached by two mysterious and handsome men claiming to be elves who need her help to rescue their queen. More revelations come, threatening to unravel the life of this sassy barista from Missoula, Montana. Jelani must learn to accept that elves are real and living in the forests of the Bitterroot Mountains.
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EXCERPT:
Jelani opened her eyes and discovered a different world.
She and Daven had come up a single trail that led to the area. Now, as she looked behind them, she could see a dozen imprints snaking across the grass around them. The deer, the elk, even rabbits left distinctive marks and patterns on the green blades that made it clear to her what had stepped there. She looked behind to see her own footprints, heavy and destructive, plants crushed under the weight of her boot. Daven’s passing was marked only by a shadow on the grass that faded as she watched.
But that wasn’t all. Her new sight revealed patterns in the trees, many of them set close together to create small enclosures. Looking up, she saw gossamer platforms extending between the branches, the elves on them hardly noticing her below through the nearly opaque walls of their chambers. For the first time, she saw elf children. Their tinkling laughter lifted her spirit.
“Kids? There were kids out here the whole time?”
Daven smiled, raising a hand to the curious toddler above, whose attention had now been captured. She laughed and scattered a handful of flower petals over them. “We didn’t all come out of a glass slipper, you know. We procreate much as humans do.”
She considered the view, looking around her. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed other dwellings in the trees around them. Surely their walls were like those of the Circle chambers, diaphanous but sturdy with magic, keeping out the elements. Even so… She winced as the small ones ran in what seemed to be open space, awaiting their death-defying tumble to the ground. But of course, magic kept them safe.
“You just live in the open? Just hang out?” She shuddered. “I don’t think I could do that.”
“We did not believe you would. That’s why we have created a special place for our new queen.”
They continued into the woods to the foot of a Douglas fir so tall it hurt her neck to crane back to see the top. Astan waited there to meet them, a warm smile on his face.
Her eyes narrowed at the negative thought that came to mind, even though she couldn’t believe Astan would be involved with something that could hurt her. “You’ll shove me in a tree, like my mother?”
“Of course not, denami,” Astan said. “This is specially created for you-for us.” He gestured at the trunk. “Look closely.”
She eyed the rugged bark, suspicious, but saw at last the outline of a door and three dots spaced closely together. When she reached for the dots, she found them separated by an interval that comfortably matched her fingertips. Contact gave her fingers a little tingle, then the trunk split open without the crack or noise she expected, the two sides raising and separating.
“Come into our home,” Astan said softly, taking her hand. They entered the opening to discover a small cottage of several rooms, complete with windows.
“Now, wait a minute,” she said, stepping out to examine the trunk of the tree, no more than four feet across. She looked back inside at the
roomy space, which held several chairs, a small table, and some cabinets. A fireplace was laid out, but not burning. An open space in the back hinted at a bedroom. “How did you do this?”
“We want to make our queen happy,” Daven said. “Welcome, Jelani.”
She could hardly believe what she saw. The space reminded her of something Snow White might have stumbled upon in the woods. Except, of course, this was elves. “Is this the only house like this? Just for us?”
“No,” Astan said. “Others exist, but none are quite so suited to humans. The Circle has gone to some length to keep your comfort in mind.”
Grateful at the concern for her well-being, she’d marveled at the creation, her one frown prompted by the fireplace. “You want me to burn a fire inside a tree? That seems counter-productive somehow. Even if we wouldn’t die from smoke inhalation.”
A laugh burst from Daven, amusement flickering in his eyes. Shaking his head, he patted her on the shoulder. “You are quite right, Jelani. Burning an actual fire in this enclosure could be dangerous to you, and the tree as well. One of the elders has left you some flash dust.”
He demonstrated the use of the gift by opening a small glass box on the mantel. Inside was some nondescript powder that looked like well-dried ash. He said a few words in elvish and tossed a pinch of the powder onto the hearth and a fire appeared.
“Whoa.” Jelani stared at the flames, then came near. No smoke came from the fire, and heat came only as high as the fireplace enclosure. While the room warmed perceptibly, the heat faded as it approached the walls formed by the trunk of the tree that housed her.
More magic.
“You’re going to teach me that abracadabra part, right?”
Daven crossed his arms and studied her. “I’ll teach you all the magic you can learn, my queen.”
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Have you heard of the Montana Vortex?
I knew when I got the idea for THE ELF GUARDIAN that It would be set in the Bitterroot Mountains, like the others–but I wanted a unique twist. It came when I read about the Montana Vortex.
When paranormal investigator Chiara de Luna needs a boost to her sagging career, she makes a trip to northwestern Montana for new material. Little does she know that the real story she’ll find is much more outlandish than weirdly tilted trees and brooms standing up on their own.
Clan Elves of the Bitterroot (Book IV): The strong Earth energies that support the Clan Elves of the Bitterroot have gone awry for unknown reasons, and the powerful forces at work have not gone unnoticed by the outside world. When a paranormal investigator looking for a story to save her career is told a fantastic tale by the juvenile and disobedient elf prince Elliun, his young albino elf bodyguard Max must try to fix the mistake. Can Max get humans, mages, and elves working together in time to save the land before the energies spin out of control? Or is this the end of the elven world in the Bitterroot Mountains? [Urban Fantasy series from Dragonfly Publishing, Inc.]
Excerpt:
The phone line went dead before she could even say ‘goodbye.”
Not that she was going to say ‘goodbye.’ Anything but.
“Hunter, wait—”
The once-sweet name turning bitter on her tongue, the whispered words sighed through her lips, becoming sharp, cutting her.
No, that was her teeth, biting down hard enough to make her bleed.
She set the phone into the stand. Gone.
Her knees gave way and she landed, hard, in her office chair, banging her elbow on the edge of the polished black-and-chrome desk. The pain reverberated up and down her arm, but did nothing to cloak the agony raging inside her.
So close…
The news clippings across the surface of the desk seemed to mock her now. Paranormal Investigator Visits Alcatraz. DeLuna Solves Local Murder with Psychic Clues. Ghosts Give Up Secrets to Ohio Paranormal Expert. All her work, fifteen years of building a reputation as an investigator of the weird and unexplained—what would it mean if Hunter Nowles walked away from her?
And why was he leaving? Because that stupid exorcism had turned out to be a fake.
Okay, and the haunting of that old mansion in Pennsylvania had turned out to be a bust.
She chewed her lip. To be honest, she’d failed to either prove or debunk the last seven investigations she’d undertaken. Lucky number seven.
“The great Chiara DeLuna bites the big one,” she muttered, waiting for the rim shot that had to follow. It was a joke, right? She was a joke. The network seemed to think so. Davis had already sent a memo warning her they wouldn’t fund her program any longer if she couldn’t produce results. And now Hunter had decided she wasn’t worth his time, either.
Or maybe he was just afraid that her failures would taint his own growing stature in the paranormal investigation community. Their three years as lovers didn’t mean anything at all?
Her gaze was snagged by one of the news photos on the desk, herself smiling and shaking the beefy hand of some small-town police chief. See, that woman was Chiara DeLuna, “spooky” media star—the woman with the chic platinum blonde hair, the expensive wardrobe, and the ominous black sedan that seemed to part crowds when she arrived on a scene.
Not the woman who looked back at her from the mirror, dreary, bookish Bonny Lang from Euclid, Ohio whose most thrilling accomplishment before she’d hit the big time was surviving a wreck with a drunk driver, as a teenager. Her mother had been killed in the crash; Bonny had sold her first paranormal article based on a post-mortem conversation they had before her mother’s spirit faded.
Paperback at Amazon • Paperback at Barnes & Noble • Paperback at Lulu • Hardback at Barnes & Noble • Hardback at Lulu • eBook at Amazon Kindle • eBook at Apple • eBook at B&N Nook • eBook at Kobo • eBook at Smashwords
PAPERBACK [EAN 978-1-936381-51-7 | ISBN 1-936381-51-6] 5.5 x 8.5 trade trim or 6×9 library trim (184 pages) | Average Price: $12.99
HARDBACK [EAN 978-1-936381-50-0 | ISBN 1-936381-50-8] 6×9 casebound (184 pages) | Average Price: $21.99
EBOOK [EAN 978-1-936381-52-4 | ISBN 1-936381-52-4] EPUB and Kindle MOBI (58,000 words) | Average Price: $3.99
An adventure she never asked for, a past she never knew #MFRWHooks
One of the themes of this blog is adventure, which I think everyone should experience at some point. But sometimes adventures are planned…and sometimes….
As she reached Broadway, a worn blue bicycle pulled up next to her, horn screeching over its rider’s distinctive squeal. “Where is your car, woman?”
Jelani eyed her best friend, Iris Pallaton, whose blonde hair swirled above the bright cloud of a magenta blouse. “Richard had it towed.”
“Rat bastard!”
“Tell me about it. I’m late.” Jelani headed off again.
Iris pedaled along the curb beside her. “You should call his supervisor and complain.”
“And what? Humiliate myself because he’s a jerk? Screw him!”
“Maybe you should.” Iris laughed. “Then he’d be too awed to bother you again.”
Jelani glared as they crossed the street. “Funny.”
On the far side, she caught the glint of glass in the middle of the sidewalk. “What idiot would drop a bottle when there’s a trash can right there?” she grumbled. “I’ll get it. First karma points of the day.”
Iris climbed off the bike and put down the kickstand. “What is that?” She bent down near the object. “Oh, sweet Gaia! It’s a glass slipper!”
No kidding. It really appeared to be a shoe made out of glass. A large one.
“Who would have left this here?” Jelani picked it up, looking around for a prankster camera team. Something kept her from tossing the shoe.
“Try it on,” Iris whispered. “It would get Richard Snyder off your mind.”
“Richard is not on my mind. He’s on my crap list.”
“Oooh. Sorry.” Iris ran her finger over the shoe. “You’re chicken anyway.”
“Don’t even go there.”
“Chicken. Bawk-bawk.” Iris giggled.
“Fine! If it means I can get to work.” Reaching down with her right hand, she unzipped her boot and kicked it off. “Ready? You want a picture?”
Iris dug for her cellphone and raised it, ready to take a shot. “Just in case your prince shows up right then.”
“I don’t need a prince,” Jelani complained. “I don’t need a man. I need a new life.”
Setting the shoe on the ground, Jelani slipped her foot in it and gently stepped down, not sure to what expect.
The slipper shattered, slicing into the sole of her foot.
Nauseous, Jelani screamed and could only watch in disbelief as tiny men sprang from the blood trickling under the broken shoe. She lost track of how many. With the biggest maybe two inches high, the men scattered into the shadows around the nearest building and disappeared.
She lifted her foot, shaking off the blood, and examined her sole to see if glass remained buried in her skin.
“Did you see that?” Iris gasped, nearly breathless. She grabbed at the wall, eyes closed for a moment.
Jelani felt faint, too, suddenly washed out. “I don’t know.”
There were no glass fragments in her foot or anywhere. The shoe had vanished. The only trace of the whole incident was dark blood, slowly drying in the sun on the sidewalk. As she watched, the cuts in her foot healed.
Iris knelt down to peer at Jelani’s foot. “There were little people. Naked little people. They ran away. I swear they did.”
“Did you get pictures?”
“I almost forgot!” Iris got up and activated the screen on her cell phone, pressed the arrow. Jelani leaned close to watch the whole thing replay in living color. “Oh. Bless. My. God,” Iris said, in her shock reverting to the male deity.
Jelani nodded. “And the horse He rode in on.”
****
When Jelani tries on a real glass slipper left lying on the sidewalk, it splits in half and out pour dozens of two-inch high creatures who scurry away into the shadows. As if that’s not bizarre enough, she is soon approached by two men claiming (of all things) to be elves who need her help to rescue their queen.
Buy now at Amazon!
https://www.linkytools.com/basic_linky_include.aspx?id=296360
No room for elves in “Boz Angeles”?
Interesting story about Bozeman, Montana, not too far from the Bitterroot. Seems like they have a lot of problems that my new home city, Asheville, NC, is dealing with:
https://www.businessinsider.my/should-i-move-to-bozeman-montana-2020-3/amp
Is it possible to build up too much fun for anyone to afford?
A little Clan Elves love from Madison Michael! Start reading this series today!
Scenic drive along Idaho-12
Come by, read an excerpt and check out the new covers for the Clan Elves of the Bitterroot series!!
https://www.madisonmichael.net/the-elf-queen-a-paranormal-urban-fantasy-from-lyndi-alexander/
An energy vortex, and Bigfoot, too??
from https://www.959theranch.com/the-fbi-investigated-bigfoot-in-the-70s-and-just-released-the-report/
The northwest corner of Montana is a magical place indeed. Not only do my Clan Elves of the Bitterroot live in the forests alongside the Montana Vortex, the Sasquatch is also rumored to live there! Advice from the pros? Pack your PBJ’s; leave the Skittles at home.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this… Sci-Fi Fantasy Saturday for 1-25
Greetings from the frozen Northland! I used to live in Montana, where THE ELF MAGE is set, and I decided to leave there because it just got too cold in the winter. So today I woke up to -3 (-16 with the wind chill) here in Pennsylvania, and in Missoula, it’s 22 degrees. What’s up with that?
Anyway, as I sit here bundled up in my chair and just my fingers sticking out so I can type, I wanted to share a snippet of THE ELF MAGE, part of the Clan Elves of the Bitterroot series. This piece is near the beginning of the third book, just after the elf prince has been abducted by persons or elves unknown and the clan nearly destroyed. Daven Talvi, whose pride helped bring things to this point, has come to after being knocked out in a fight, in the queen’s enchanted home, finding himself alone and everything in shambles:
Astan had many times expressed his concern since the queen came to live in the forest with the clan, worried that Grigor had not perished alone in the forests, and that he would return to avenge his dead master Bartolomey. But Daven had counseled his son not to take action, to wait and watch. Astan disagreed, but obeyed his father, as duty required.
And look where that has brought you.
Truly Daven had underestimated the evil Grigor held within him, the sense of blackness that still pervaded the atmosphere inside the queen’s home. As a fullblood elf, well-trained in the ways of divination, Daven perceived several mental voices, several personas who had left the barest impression of themselves behind, an impression of menace and ill-will.
Something about one in particular felt familiar to Daven. Something he had not felt for many years. Something so vague he couldn’t put a name to it yet. But he would.
***
And thus begins a transformation that will lead to the biggest battle this clan has ever endured…that may be the end of them all.
For more on the series, visit the Clan Elves page or my tab above, or check it out at Amazon.com .
For other amazing snippets from sci-fi fantasy authors around the world, check out this week’s edition of SFFS here!
Realms of adventure await…
Sometimes we imagine that Adventure is what happens to other people. You know, those people with an unlimited supply of money who hire sherpa guides to take them crawling up the side of Mount Everest, or who buy themselves a seat on a supersonic transport or a submarine that tours coral reefs.
I write about pretty average people who find adventure in pretty mundane settings. THE ELF QUEEN’s Jelani Marsh, who is an average workaday girl, till she discovers some pretty deep secrets in her family’s past. THE ELF CHILD’s Ron “Crispy” Mendell, who begins to overcome his long-seated agoraphobia when he finds a wounded eagle and nurses it back to health. THE ELF MAGE’s Lane Donatelli, a child abuse survivor and World of Warcraft addict, who finds a whole new world right under his nose. TRIAD’s Trezanna Len, administrator of a small colony in space who’d like nothing better than to push her pencil every day and blend in to the bureaucracy–until the space pirates show up. Or in fall 2012’s LOVE ME, TOUCH ME, KILL ME, where a young divorcee is simply trying to start a new life for herself when her job as a newspaper reporter leads her to investigate a string of deaths that soon may include her own.
Adventure–as is also true about life–is what you make it. Ask any two-year-old walking with her parent to the local playground. While mom or dad might be thinking about work, or balancing the checkbook, or making appointments on the phone, that toddler sees butterflies, streets full of rushing vehicles, dogs, cats, green grass, flowers blowing in the wind, something new with each step.
We could do the same, if we just put our mind to it. Or is it a matter of taking our “mind” out of the equation, allowing ourselves to experience the awe and wonder of even common things, opening the door to adventures in even ordinary situations?
All you need to come along with them is a comfortable chair and your imagination. Here’s your invitation. What are you waiting for?
Lyndi Alexander's worlds of fancy 