After Thistledown — #GetCaughtReading and More

Saturday, April 27, 2018

Thanks again to everyone who supported Thistledown – Midsummer Bedlam.  I always like for my blog stories to be “interactive” with you readers, at least to a degree.  You were an essential element of that faery tale. 

What’s Now and What’s Next? 

Well, one thing that’s next already is… or the future is the present… or have I just boldly gone where no (wo)man has gone before?

Hullaba Lulu

Val hat Lulu trumpet expressions

Art by Rob Goldstein

What I’m trying to say is that for those of you who aren’t familiar with my Jazz Age Wednesday posts, I currently have a series in collaboration with artist  Rob Goldstein.  It’s a Roaring Twenties, diesel-punk fantasy called Hullaba Lulu.  Is that news to you?  No worries, click here* for a post that has links to all the past episodes.  It’s pos-i-lutely darb.  Get aboard the diesel-punk train!

What’s Next? 

Get Caught Reading Month — All New Mini-series with Chris Graham

May is  Get Caught Reading Month. Twice in the past, Chris Graham – the Story Reading Ape and I have collaborated on stories for this event.  Hold onto your hats, because we’re together again!  Premiering next weekend… (drum roll)…

Artie Meets the Alchemist!

Artie Meets Alchemist promo 1

Artie the genius chimpanzee is the creation of Chris Graham.  He has popped into several of my stories.  For our new story, a fictionalized Cornelis Drebbel is my character — he’s managed to wriggle out of the serial where I created him* and into some others too.  I wonder what will happen when those two run into each other?  Oh yes, this will be a steampunk story.

The Next What’s Next and Poll Results 

I haven’t completed the editing and proofing of Atonement in Bloom.  Although I still hope to finish before the summer arrives (as in solstice).  After “Bloom” is published I will start a new Saturday serial. 

A while back I polled you readers about what kind of “three things” serial you wanted next.  The results were overwhelmingly for a new Atonement, Tennessee story.  I’ve never done Atonement in a serial form.  However, I’ve always seen those books as a trilogy.  Blogging leaves me no time to write, so if there’s going to be a third book, it will have to come from a serial here.  That’s a while into the future, but stay tuned! 

This blog has always been about the readers, being interactive. I love your comments.  I appreciate your visits. You are a huge part of it, and I thank you.

***

Atonement Video Cover copy

Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

Bijou front only 2

Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I

Novel-book-The Three Things Serial Story-Teagan Riordain Geneviene-The Writer Next Door-Vashti Q-spotlight-author

The Three Things Serial Story: A Little 1920s Story Kindle 

 

 

This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2018 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.

 

Jazz Age Wednesdays 30 ― Hullaba Lulu 5.1

Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Lulu reclining trunks Valentino Station

Valentino and Lulu wait at the abandoned subway station.  (Rob Goldstein)

Hi there, Sheiks and Shebas.  You’re at Jazz Age Wednesdays.  Today’s episode brings us to Chapter 5 of the new series, Hullaba Lulu.  I hope you are enjoying my change of pace from the “Pip-verse.”  Yes, it’s another story set in the 1920s, but this one is a “Diesel-punk” fantasy. 

Once again I have more of the pos-i-lutely fabulous artwork from Rob Goldstein.  He’s made another fun video for this series.  Button up your overcoat and check it out below.  Rob and I are also having inspiring discussions and he’s sending me “three things” to spontaneously drive each chapter of this pantser story. 

However, this time I’m cheating a little…  When I started fleshing out my notes for this chapter, I found myself relating the backstory of Lulu’s family — before I even got around to any of the “three things” from Rob.  The backstory was enough for a small episode.  So, I decided to give you “Chapter 5.1” today and move the three things to next week.

Our darb cast of characters is finally ready to get aboard that diesel-punk train.  I can’t resist showing you the images Rob made for that. 

Previously with Hullaba Lulu

“This Ouija board is part of my train,” Valentino added in an annoyed tone that was tinged with guilt.  “It’s part of the navigation system.  This one was a backup.  The primary board was corrupted and a default setting sent the train here, where the backup board was left.  I didn’t know it was bringing me here.  I didn’t mean to cause you pain,” he added, looking at my grandfather.

“Lulu, you have to help me stop her!” Pearl cried.  “It’s Rose, she’s going to blouse.”

All aboard!

Hullaba Lulu

Chapter 5.1

The Backstory

Next Time 5.2: Automat, Cheeseburger, Tilt-a-Whirl

My senses tingled with excitement.  I got goosebumps just thinking about getting on that train.  And Valentino―  No!  I wasn’t going to think about him that way.  I refused to be like everybody else. 

I went to Brick Oven Pizza and asked my pal Tony if he could help get the trunks down through the speakeasy for Rose and Pearl.  Tony was a peach.  I knew he’d help without asking questions.

The Station Val_Pearl enters_red

Pearl made it back after going to check on Rose (Rob Goldstein)

Then I ankled back to the abandoned subway tunnel.  I was surprised to hear voices ahead.  One belonged to my grandfather.  After a moment I realized the other was Valentino.  Gramps sounded like he was in a lather.

Gramps tended to be taciturn, and Valentino seemed pretty tight lipped.  So, I knew they would clam up if they knew anyone else was there.  I took off my kitten-heeled shoes so they wouldn’t hear me as I drew closer.  The conversation I witnessed left me speechless and confounded.

“The first time I met you, I didn’t know what to think ― of you or of my own reaction to you.  I was young then.  I didn’t know much.  I thought you’d left forever.  Life went on.  I married Priscilla, the love of my life.  Then you showed up again.  I only saw you in the distance, and that was for the best,” Gramps said.

vAL Grams Station_0011_007x

Valentino summons the train with his trumpet. (Rob Goldstein)

My grandfather’s words sounded like a man reminiscing, but there was nothing of sweet memories in his tone.  How could he have known Valentino that long ago, unless the darb mystery man had been a small child?  I felt confused.

“Priscilla and I had Lauren, our beautiful daughter, though my Priscilla didn’t live to watch her become a woman,” Gramps said and swallowed hard.  “If she had, Lauren might not have turned out the way she did.”

La Garçonne-ectoplasm

Lauren inside Valentino’s train  (Rob Goldstein)

“I know the girl has a mean streak a mile wide, but I still love her.  She took up with that mobster and to be honest, I don’t know which one was worse, him or Lauren.  Finally, she came back to Lulu and me.  But I knew she wasn’t happy, Lauren couldn’t be satisfied with us.  She needed thrills that a normal life couldn’t provide.  I shouldn’t have been surprised…” my grandfather’s voice trailed away, as Valentino waited in silence for him to continue.

“So, the last time you were here, you left with my daughter.  I never saw her again.  Now you mean to take my granddaughter with you — don’t bother denying it.  I know I wouldn’t be any more able to stop her than I could have stopped Lauren, even if I had known what she meant to do.  Well mister, things are going to be different this time.  This time I’m going too!”

Rose Enters Station portal

Valentino, Rose, Gramps, and Lulu wait for the train (Rob Goldstein)

A noise caused me to turn.  I heard Rose and Pearl thanking Tony.  They insisted that they could manage on their own.  The sound of an old baggage trolley with squeaky wheels echoed through the tunnel.  The two men heard it and stopped talking.

My mother the mobster?  I knew which rumrunner Gramps meant.  If Lauren was potentially worse than that man… well, she must be pure evil.

 And Gramps… I wasn’t completely sure what he meant about Valentino, but maybe that was because I was stuck, trying and failing to process what he said about my mother.

I put my shoes back on and waited quietly for Rose and Pearl to catch up.  I didn’t want  anyone, particularly Gramps or Valentino, to know I had been listening.

Val Margosha getting on train All Abord

Rose made it too.  Is that a Chanel suit she’s wearing?

Here ends part 1 of the fifth chapter of Hullaba Lulu.

Next Time Chapter 5.2: Automat, Cheeseburger, Tilt-a-Whirl

 

Now that I’ve finished my Saturday serial, Thistledown – Midsummer Bedlam, we might have some new readers on this diesel-punk train.  This seems like a good time to provide links to the past chapters of Hullaba Lulu.  If you’ve just gotten aboard Jazz Age Wednesdays, you can catch up at these links:

Chapter 1 ― Rose, Pearl, Trumpet

Chapter 2 ― Garter Flask, Grand Central Station, Bright Young Things

Chapter 3 ― Saltwater Taffy, Raspberry-Red Rouge, Ouija Board

Chapter 4 ― Ectoplasm, Jung, Orthophonic Victrola

I hope you’ll click over and check out Rob’s blog.  You’ll find more fabulous images there. He’s not just a brilliant artist, he’s also an advocate for several important causes.

Thanks for visiting.  You’re the oyster’s earrings! 

 

PS:  I can’t forget my other 1920s books — the original “three things” stories about Paisley Idelle Peabody, aka Pip, and her friends.

Bijou front only 2

Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I

Novel-book-The Three Things Serial Story-Teagan Riordain Geneviene-The Writer Next Door-Vashti Q-spotlight-author

The Three Things Serial Story: A Little 1920s Story Kindle 

 

This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Artwork Copyright © 2018 by Rob Goldstein

Copyright © 2018 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.

 

Thistledown – Midsummer Bedlam 32 — The End.

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Welcome back to the faery land of Thistledown… but first the real world.

Thistledown Girl

The Real World

If I were writing a novel, there are many things I would circle back to in this tale, loose ends to tie up, hints to conclude, Faery Namers to mention again.  I’ve often thought this was a story I should never have begun.  At an extremely challenging time in my life Thistledown does not take me to a world where I would escape.  Rather, it ties me to the darkness of the current time and place.  It seems like an odd thing to say about a tale of faeries, doesn’t it?

That said, it may not be done in the best “literary” way, or the best “technical” way, but I’m bringing this story to a close.  I’m truly grateful to everyone who has followed this story.  The joy I take in your comments has kept me writing about Bedlam and her friends.  I give you my heartfelt thanks.  And I shed more than a few tears as I write this final episode.

On to Thistledown

This episode is longer than some — I hope you don’t mind.  I don’t want to divide this closing chapter of Thistledown – Midsummer Bedlam.

I never thought little Bob the hummingbird would become so popular.  Much like Lilith the cat in the Atonement stories, he was a device to tell about things Bedlam could not witness.  Since you have embraced the little guy, Bob will finish the story for us.

Thistledown

Midsummer Bedlam 32

Conclusion

Three Phantom Elements

Ruby-topaz_hummingbird_flying in Tobago

 

The present situation couldn’t be allowed to continue.  Any hummingbird knew the past was no place to live.  Yet Bob couldn’t do what must be done with the resources of the present colorless world either.  He didn’t think it could be done even with all the magic of Thistledown. 

An idea started to take shape.  Not the past, nor the present – but from somewhere else!

Iridescent orange feathers soaked up the scant light in the cave of the abyss.  Bob’s plumage glittered in the dimness.  He steeled himself to the task he knew he must take, the risk he had to take.  Bob the hummingbird touched the dark magic of the cave.

His bright orange feathers became the color of midnight on a starry night.

Bob hummingbird midnight

He could feel the negativity of the enchantment course through his tiny body.  He hated to involve anyone else in the dire business, but there was no other way.  Bob loosed out a shrill, painful call.

A great wave of humming birds, like a huge cloud of brown flew toward the cave ― the hummingbirds of the colorless world.  The entire flock could provide only a small amount of magic, but Bob needed every bit he could get.  With a sigh of regret for using them, he welcomed the tiny dully colored birds.

For a time, they waited, hovering at the opening of the cave.  As a few more hummers arrived, Bob drew a bit of the magic he had gathered.  He cried out a second time, a deeper call from his gut.  Bob the hummingbird summoned the hornless unicorns of the colorless world.

Horse dull Mountain

He waited.  The steeds of the colorless world had no more magic than the hummingbirds, despite their size.  A single steed trotted up to the mountainside below the opening of the cave where Bob perched.  A collective chirp of sadness came from the flock of birds.

Then the ground began to vibrate.  Scores of hornless unicorns galloped into the clearing, whinnying and rearing their willingness to share the scant magic they held.

The spell Bob meant to work required three elements.  Now he had one ― the present.  The hummingbirds and hornless unicorns of the colorless world were gathered.

Together they circled around to the ground-level opening of the cave of the abyss.  Bob worried that he would not be able to contain the blending of the dark magic with his hummingbird magic for long enough to complete his spell.  It seemed to burn throughout his body.  Then he spotted Bedlam Thunder standing at the opening of the cave.

In a spiraling flight of delight Bob zipped down and circled the faery girl’s head.  At first Bedlam didn’t recognize him in his midnight colored feathers.  Bob chirped and tried to let her know it was him.  Then he remembered how he had told her his name when he first attached himself to her quest.

Fairy_CE Brock

He hovered just out of her reach, moving slightly up and down — bobbing as he did that first time.  His long tail feathers shot a static-like shock to her fingertips to remind her of the periwinkle muskox hair.  She gasped and drew back wearing a confused expression.  Abruptly, understanding spread across her face.

“Bob?  Can that be you?  You aren’t orange anymore!  But your midnight-blue feathers are just as beautiful,” Bedlam told him and stretched out her hands inviting him to alight.

However, he flew back to the sky, making a large circle around the hummingbirds of that world.

A loud clamor came from inside the cave.  Bedlam’s new friends grunted and yelled.  She ran inside the cave to help them.  Bob knew by the sounds what was happening.  The great copper battleaxe had awakened.  The mirror image of one in Thistledown it had power of its own.  However, where the copper ax in Thistledown would cleave something in order to create something new, the ax in the colorless world would sever and cauterize, creating a final separation.

The copper battleaxe had broken free of those who tried to stop its rise into the hollow heights of the cave.  Bob heard the beats from the drum circle as they used the cave to enhance the little magic they manifested with their drums.  He worried that the second element of his spell would not arrive in time.

Suddenly, a cloud of bats fled the cave.  Leather wings rustled as hundreds of bats flew out.  Dodging barren trees, they disappeared into the distance.

Bongo drummer clem-onojeghuo-122041

The sound of the drums continued.  Rhythmic beats grew stronger, louder.  The dark magic of the cave blended with the drumming, amplifying.  The handful of drums began to sound like dozens as they banged out a complex beat.

Gradually Bob felt a harmonic vibration from the drums.  It became a sound of multi-part harmony.  A brilliant, many colored flock of hummingbirds soared out of the cave.

Briefly, the drumming faltered, worrying Bob.  He knew it had to continue to stabilize the dark magic.  He heard Bedlam’s voice calling for the drummers to continue.  He relaxed minutely.  Bedlam knew what needed to be done.

Bob trilled his joy as all the hummingbirds of Thistledown zipped and twirled around him and their brethren from the colorless world.  The hornless unicorns reared up as the brightly colored birds touched them, combining their magic.

Many Hummers Janet Weight Reed

Art by Janet Weight Reed

Bob flew to the opening of the cave.  He hovered, waiting.

Finally, several tiny avians carried a page from a book out of the cave.  Bob trilled a congratulatory chirp to them.  They brought the page containing the spell, A Perversion of Phantoms.

The spell was ancient, but hummingbird magic was older still.  The faeries of Thistledown had forgotten that the ancient tome, the Etheraris Spiregris, in fact was filled with enchantments based on the magic of hummingbirds.

Bob rested upon the page as the group of birds carried it high into the dreary sky with the other birds.  The text written on the page became luminous.  Bob soaked the spell into himself.  His new midnight-blue feathers glowed despite their dark color.

The hornless unicorns galloped in a circle below the hummingbirds.  They ran faster and faster, their magic growing as they ran.

The page containing A Perversion of Phantoms burst into brightly colored sparks.  The shimmering sparks exploded upward amid all the hummingbirds, and downward as well, to the running steeds.  As the sparks touched the steeds, their fur became shining white.

White Horses_in_camargue

Bob now had the second of the three elements he required.  The past.

The hornless unicorns whinnied as they felt their added strength.

The two groups of hummingbirds flew as one.  They circled rapidly in the air above the running steeds.  The circle spun faster until it looked like a cyclone of color.  It drew all the sparks that had once been the page from the Etheraris Spiregris into the vortex.

Shouting came from within the cave.  The great copper battleax had broken free.  The drumming stopped.  Bedlam yelled for them to keep drumming.

If the ax levitated high enough it would gather dark magic as it ascended.  It would forever sever the link between the colorless world and Thistledown.

Bob’s strength began to lag.  He knew he had to channel the darkest of the magic he had absorbed from the cave.  Somehow, he had to blend it with his own, even if it burned him alive.

Abbey,_Edwin_Austin_Fairies

Fairies, Edwin Austin Abbey, 1852-1911

Bob focused on the spell.  It was engraved on the race memory of every hummingbird in Thistledown.  It was a core component of their distant past.  Now the Thistledown hummers had brought it into the present.  The enchantment could easily be perverted in this colorless world, just as its name implied.

As the vortex expanded, exoplasmic figures began to move on the ground below.  They screamed in pain as they remembered their ending.  Substance had been given to the shadows that had long before been burned into the rubble in Bedlam’s terrible vision.  Bob knew that the vision had been a reality in the past of the colorless world.  He didn’t flinch as the phantoms rose up to surround the cyclonic mass of hummingbirds.

Bob chirped out the words of the spell.  The other hummingbirds added their voices.  The galloping steeds learned the spell and supplemented the calls of the birds with their neighs and whinnies.

The milky sun of the colorless world bloomed in brilliance.  Light seemed to bleed across the hazy sky.  Against the expanding sun was an enormous flock of hummingbirds of shimmering white.

Sunrise

Sunrise by Kirt Tisdale

Now Bob had third element of the spell ― the future.

The pristine birds flew amid the phantoms.  As the hummingbirds touched the phantoms, the ectoplasm transformed to light.  Healed, the lights soared into the cave of the abyss.

Bedlam Thunder and the others of the drum circle quickly left the cave.

“Are you sure you want to stay here?” Bedlam asked Fallow Blackmoon.

“This is where I belong, Bedlam.  I have a purpose here that I never had in Thistledown.  I hope you can understand,” Fallow told her with a gentle smile.

A copper glow briefly emanated from the mouth of the cave.  Bob heard the sound of the great battleax as it clattered to the ground.

The mountain trembled.  Part of the cave collapsed.  Dust poured from the opening.

“The abyss has closed,” Bedlam stated.  “But I can still feel the link to Thistledown.”

“But now you can’t get home!” Rotten Soulfire said as a horrified expression came to her face.

Bob dove down from the impossibly fast flight of the hummingbirds.  He rested on Bedlam’s back where her injured wing was tucked away.  Then he moved up to her shoulder and pulled at the sleeve of her yellow dress.

Bedlam unfurled her wings.  She smiled when she saw her wound was healed.

“Can you simply fly home?” Rotten asked in a doubtful voice.

DCF 1.0

More hummingbirds descended from the vortex, brown, white, and brightly colored.  They chirped excitedly.

“No, I can’t fly there on my own,” Bedlam began.  “But I will have help.  I believe I could take you with me, Rotten.  I think you would love your double there, my friend River Mindshadow.”

Bob could tell that indecision wared within the girl.  After a moment she shook her head.

“I’m not as brave as you, Bedlam.  But maybe another time,” Rotten told her.

Bedlam Thunder Bob the hummingbird fluttered skyward together.   The other hummingbirds from Thistledown gathered around them.  Hummingbird magic surged.  It spread across the sky like a multicolored sunset as they disappeared, headed home.

The vortex supported by the shimmering white hummingbirds, and the dull colored ones of that world surged and then flew apart.  The white hummers blinked out of sight.  The others chirped happily and flew down to the hornless unicorns as they slowed to a stop.

The sky transformed to turquoise blue.  The sun shone in brilliance in the colorless world.

I Will Give You Hope

“I Will Give You Hope” photo by Kirt Tisdale

The members of the drum circle murmured in amazement.  Fallow Blackmoon squinted, but she smiled as she gazed at beautiful blue sky and a bright sun unlike any the colorless world had known in its long memory.

The End

***

Faery Artists and Namers

My heartfelt thanks to everyone who allowed faeries to be named in their honor — and particularly to those who gave me permission to use their art and photos.  Here’s a shout-out and a huge “thank you!” to everyone, from me and Thistledown – Midsummer Bedlam.  In no particular order: 

Annette Rochelle Aben Crescent Glimmer
https://annetterochelleaben.wordpress.com/ 
Colleen Chesebro Ember Beamwitch
https://www.amazon.com/Colleen-M.-Chesebro/e/B01N9MV2RX 
Barbara Murray Tinder Willowtree
https://www.etsy.com/shop/MurrayHillGlassArt
Marjorie Mallon Belle Stargazer
https://mjmallon.com/
Mary J. Mccoy-Dressel Calico Rainbowforest
https://maryjdresselbooks.com/posts/ 
Pamela Wight Dewberry Moonglow
https://www.amazon.com/Pamela-S.-Wight/e/B00AYXT6R6 
Sally Cronin Poppy Songbird
https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/
Adele Marie Park Luminous Twinkle
https://firefly465.wordpress.com/ 
Viv Drewa Meadow Glimmer
https://www.amazon.com/Viv-Drewa/e/B00J1PTJ20 
Christopher Graham Field Yewwasp
https://thestoryreadingapeblog.com/about/ 
Kirt Tisdale Skypainter Morning
https://thewallgallery.com/ 
Eloise De Sousa Blossom Stargazer
http://www.eloisedesousa.wordpress.com 
Tim Price Catseye Glimmer
http://photos.tandlphotos.com/blog  Royal Chimera
Robbie Cheadle Glitter Shimmerling
https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/ 
Olga Núñez Miret River Mindshadow
http://www.authortranslatorolga.com/  Rotten Soulfire
Suzanne DeBrango Peaches Dragonfire
https://apuginthekitchen.com 
Victo Dolore Lavender Cozy
https://doctorly.wordpress.com/ 
Jan Malique Cherry Starlight
https://strangegoingsonintheshed.wordpress.com/ 
Andrea Stephenson Fallow Blackmoon
https://harvestinghecate.wordpress.com/
Barbara aka ghostmmnc Glimmer Stargazer
https://teleportingweena.wordpress.com/about-me-2/ 
Willow Croft aka the Chaos Fairy Whimsy Thistle
https://www.amazon.com/author/willowcroft 
Lavinia Ross Moon Shadow
https://salmonbrookfarms.wordpress.com/ 
John W. Howell Pick Dragonfly
http://johnwhowell.com 
Kathryn Pepper Stargazer
https://anotherfoodieblogger.wordpress.com/ 
Christine Robinson Willow Rainbow
http://cerobinsonauthor.com 
Wanda Williams Ivy Thistle
https://cookiesandmoo.blog/ 
Vashti Quiroz-Vega Desert Firesong
http://vashtiqvega.wordpress.com 
Dan Antion Carver Eastdoor
https://nofacilities.com/  Stranglevine Starquencher
Linda, Charmed Chaos Pippa Glimmer
https://charmedchaos.com 
Hugh W. Roberts Ivy Twinkle
https://hughsviewsandnews.com/ 
Hollyberye Holly Songbird
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyWrV-dmm_oWHnc50YKSVnA 
Sarah Vernon Tipsy Cotton
https://firstnightdesign.wordpress.com/ 
Cecily Willow Stargazer
https://cecilyswritings.wordpress.com 
Teri Polen Royal Razorleaf
https://teripolen.com/
Christy Birmingham Rhymer Rainbow
https://poeticparfait.com/ 
Janet Weight Reed Valley Hummer
https://jcrhumming.wordpress.com/tag/janet-weight-reed/ 
Diana Wallace Peach Flora Twinkle
https://mythsofthemirror.com/author/dwpeach/
Brad Chimera Soulfire
https://writingtofreedom.com/about/ 
Sue Dreamwalker Drummer Soulfire
https://suedreamwalker.wordpress.com/about/ C52

Thanks again for being a part of Thistledown — Midsummer Bedlam.

Hugs on the wing!

For an entirely different variety of “fae” read Atonement, Tennessee.  I’m currently editing book-2 and hope to publish soon.

Atonement Video Cover copy

Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

 

 

 

Copyright © 2018 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene 

All rights reserved. 

This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. 

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise. 

 

Jazz Age Wednesdays 29 ― Hullaba Lulu 4

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Hey, Sheiks and Shebas.  Welcome back to Jazz Age Wednesdays

My “partner in crime” (Rob Goldstein) did the video above.  I’m using as a review of last week’s episode.  I’m happy to be able to feature more of the artwork of Rob Goldstein

Update:  Here’s a fun related post that Rob did over at his blog, “10 Everyday Items Invented in the 1920s* — click over and enjoy.

Today we have Chapter 4 of the Roaring Twenties fantasy series, Hullaba Lulu.  The “dieselpunk*” aspect of the story is beginning to show in this episode.  The “three things” Rob sent for this chapter were downright educational.  Some of the “things” take a bit more writing for me to work into the story than others.  So please bear with me for this somewhat longer episode.

 If you need to review Chapter 2, click here.  

Previously with Hullaba Lulu

Today’s chapter picks up where Chapter 3 left off, with Lulu in her “secret place,” the abandoned subway station.  The Ouija board spelled out nonsense letters.  She thought she was alone until…

Suddenly, I felt cool fingers touch my shoulder.  I jumped backward and screamed.

Hullaba Lulu

Chapter 4

Ectoplasm, Jung, Orthophonic Victrola

Magic table Lulu Valentino Gramps good portraits

Lulu, Gramps, & Valentino in the Abandoned Subway Station, by Rob Goldstein

My elbow hit one of the dead soldiers lined up on the counter.  As my scream echoed through the abandoned subway station the empty beer bottle toppled with a domino effect.  The entire row went down, rolling and clattering.  Several fell to the floor, but astonishingly none of them broke.  I wondered if the coat of dust on the floor was that thick.

Maybe it was, because a little cloud went up and I sneezed loudly.  As I wiped my nose on my sleeve I looked up at the owner of the cool fingers that had startled me.

Valentino.

For a moment I wondered how the mysterious man had gotten into my secret subway station.  Then I realized that I had not locked the door behind me.

“Your rouge needs blending,” he commented.

Once again, he looked at me as if he had stumbled upon a new species.  It made me wonder if I had a booger in my nostril.  I touched a knuckle to my nose uncomfortably and glanced around for a mirror.

Val hat Lulu trumpet expressions

Lulu and Valentino, by Rob Goldstein

I noticed Valentino held a red leather-bound volume.  It looked like some kind of logbook.  He casually set it on the counter near the Ouija board.  He put his hand to my cheek.  Using his thumb, he rubbed the raspberry colored cosmetic a few times.

“So, what’s that?” I inquired about the book.

Lifting the red cover, I saw hand written notes and illustrations.  Valentino laid his hand on the book cover, closing it.

“The pictures in it are unusual.  Did you draw them too?”

“Yes, Lulu.  I got the idea from Carl Jung.  It’s sort of a travelogue.  It wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than myself,” he replied.

(More about Jung’s own red notebook here)

I looked up at his face, evaluating his expression.  Brooksy, a classy dresser in that tuxedo, Valentino was suavely calm.  Maybe too cool.  It made me want to poke at the façade, get a rise out of him.  I wondered what would annoy him.

Val and Tom green

Valentino and Tom Driberg, by Rob Goldstein

Valentino had a charisma that was hard to describe.  I didn’t want to be attracted to him for the simple reason that my friends acted foolishly giddy over him.  I figured he had that effect on most women.  Maybe on men too, based on the way that journalist, Tom Driberg had gazed at him.

So focused was I on Valentino that I had not noticed my grandfather enter the room.  I was almost as startled to see Gramps as I had been when Valentino came up behind me.  I thought of the brief stare-down they had outside the speakeasy the night before.

The atmosphere around the two men seemed heavy.  It reminded me of ectoplasm.  I felt I would’ve needed a knife to cut through the gauzy membrane of it.

Then again, maybe it actually is ectoplasm, I thought.

Gradually a faint aura enveloped the two men.  It trailed away from them, becoming thicker, more visible as it stretched back to the Ouija board.  The planchette raced back and forth across the wooden board.  Apparently, I was the only one who noticed.

Gramps Valentino sepia Station

Gramps and Valentino in the abandoned station, by Rob Goldstein

Gramps swallowed hard and his eyes were tight as he fixed Valentino with a cold stare.  That was the second time I had seen Gramps encounter the enigmatic man.  Both times my grandfather’s intensity, his expressions and manner befuddled me.

“So that’s what brought you back?  That old Ouija board?  I guess coming back to get something is not as cold hearted as returning on a whim.  But it would have been better if you hadn’t come back at all,” Gramps told him in a level tone.

Horsefeathers!  My Gramps already knew Valentino?  But…

The red leather book flew open and the planchette jumped from the Ouija board to the book.  I hurried to look at the pages before Valentino could get a chance to close it again.

The left-side page was filled with words written in elaborate script.  The hand was neat but difficult to read through the gauzy nimbus.  I wanted to pick up the book, but I was afraid to put my hand into the ectoplasm.  The right-side page bore a hand drawn map.  I gazed at it in sudden inspiration.  I grabbed the notepad where I penciled the letters of the Ouija board to which the planchette pointed moments before, Y, T, I, C, C, I, T, N, A, L, T, A.  My eyes went back to the map.  I spat out the piece of saltwater taffy that as still in my mouth.

English_ouija_board

English Ouija board, Wiki Media Commons

“Atlantic City?” I read the title of the map.  “Bushwa!  Couldn’t it point to Paris, or Cairo, or even Shanghai?  But no― Atlantic City.  And why the devil did it spell the words backward?” I commented incredulously.

Valentino reached the desk in a single step.  He didn’t even flinch at putting his hand into the aura.  He picked up his travelogue.  He snapped it shut and the nimbus burst.  The noise of tiny pops repeatedly assailed my ears, like a string of lady finger firecrackers.  Bits of ectoplasm showered down in sparks.

I tried to take the book from him, but he held it tightly to his chest.  He gave me a derisive look that was probably meant to make me stop.  I desperately wanted to get another look at that page.  The only thing I had been able to make out in the handwriting was a name.  Lauren.

“Lauren was my mother’s name,” I hissed into his ear, not wanting Gramps to hear.

“I know, but save it for later,” he whispered back as he twisted away from my hands.

Lauren La Garçonne -1x

Lauren by Rob Goldstein

Pearl burst into my erstwhile secret place.  I stopped trying to get my hands on the book.  My fair-haired pal was clearly distraught.

“Lulu, you have to help me stop her!” Pearl cried.  “It’s Rose, she’s going to blouse.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” I assured Pearl.  “I don’t think Rose has anywhere else to go, no family or anything,” I commented, but paused for a second as a suspicious feeling tickled at my mind.  “At least she never talks about them.  Why would Rose be leaving?”

“I don’t know,” Pearl said near tears.  “Especially after all those gifts came.  But she is.  She’s packing her suitcase and everything!”

When I wanted to know what Pearl meant by gifts, she described several expensive items that were left at our friend’s door.

“And there was a beautiful Chanel suit, and even a big Orthophonic Victrola,” Pearl explained.  “A note came with it that was addressed to Margosha.  So, it wasn’t even meant for her.  I told her that if she didn’t want the stuff she could just send it back, but she was all upset about it.”

Valentino surprised me by telling Pearl, “I thought you were Margosha.  The name means pearl.”

Pearl Lulu Waves

Pearl, by Rob Goldstein

“Did you leave the goods then,” I asked him, and I was surprised to hear the accusing tone in my voice.

“No, but I’ve a good idea who did,” he told me.  “Pearl, go get your friend and bring her here.  It’s not safe for her to travel alone.”

Pearl daubed a lace edged handkerchief at her eyes.  She brightened considerably.

“It’d be a shame to send back the Victrola.  It’s the bee’s knees,” she sniffled and said, trying to joke.

“Not to worry.  I have one on my train.  We can let it play on the way,” he told her.

I saw Gramps shift his stance.  His hand twitched as though he was about to reach toward something.  Or maybe someone.

Valentino turned and picked up the Ouija board.

“Hey!  That’s mine,” I protested.

Gramps shocked me by saying, “It belongs to him.”

I turned to my grandfather in sputtering confusion.

Gramps_Red 001x

Gramps by Rob Goldstein

“I didn’t realize it had a defect when I left it.  That explains why I never got a message…” Valentino told Gramps in an apologetic tone that left me more muddled than ever.  “That’s why it gave you the letters in reverse order,” he added turning back to me.

My hands were still extended toward my Ouija board.  Too many strange words and thoughts were flooding into my mind.  They caught in a bottleneck, leaving me immobile.

“I’ll get you another one,” Valentino told me.

His mouth held an impatient twist as he looked at my outstretched hands.  He sounded like he was talking to a petulant child.  The whole situation was getting me in a later.

“This Ouija board is part of my train,” he added in an annoyed tone that was tinged with guilt.  “It’s part of the navigation system.  This one was a backup.  The primary board was corrupted and a default setting sent the train here, where the backup board was left.  I didn’t know it was bringing me here.  I didn’t mean to cause you pain,” he added, looking at my grandfather.

***

The End

***

Now I’ve exposed another of the challenges of writing “three things” and/or serials — achieving the right combination of stopping point and length. Applesauce, I do try…  

Will Rose arrive safely at the abandoned subway station?  Why is she in danger anyway? Lulu has a mysterious mom that apparently no one talks about?  How the heck are a Ouija board and a Victrola part of the workings of a train?  Must be dieselpunk…  At least some of these questions will be answered next time with Hullaba Lulu Chapter 5 — Automat, Tilt-a-Whirl, Cheeseburger. 

1927 Orthophonic Victrola Ad

In 1925 Orthophonic Victrola* was a big innovation in sound reproduction.  The new electrically recorded phonograph records sounded harsh on the old Victrolas.  The had to consider all sorts of frequencies and even how long the horn had to be to produce a good sound — not to mention how to fold the resulting nine-foot long horn into a cabinet. 

I hope you’ll click over and check out Rob’s blog.  You’ll find more fabulous images there. He’s not just a brilliant artist, he’s also an advocate for several important causes. 

Thanks for visiting.  You’re the cat’s pajamas! 

 

 

PS:  I can’t forget my other 1920s books — the original “three things” stories about Paisley Idelle Peabody, aka Pip, and her friends.

Bijou front only 2

Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I

Novel-book-The Three Things Serial Story-Teagan Riordain Geneviene-The Writer Next Door-Vashti Q-spotlight-author

The Three Things Serial Story: A Little 1920s Story Kindle 

 

This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Artwork Copyright © 2018 by Rob Goldstein

Copyright © 2018 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.

 

Thistledown – Midsummer Bedlam 31 — A Perversion of Phantoms

Saturday, April 14, 2018

Boy field smoke-ball aziz-acharki-290990

Aziz Acharki, Unsplash

Welcome back to the faery land of Thistledown.  It’s great to see you!  In this chapter, Bedlam relates the next part of the story as it was told to her.

Previously in Thistledown

In Episode-29, A Hummingbird, we left Bedlam and Bob the hummingbird far away from Thistledown, their home. Though neither knew quite where the other was, they were both in the colorless world with the “scary faeries.”  In their own way, both felt the need to save Thistledown from the terrible potentials of Bedlam’s vision. 

In Episode-30, Meanwhile Back in Thistledown, the day of the grand Midsummer party finally arrived.  All the hummingbirds of the realm gathered to take part.  However, the entertainment for the party was overtaken by dark magic.  The faeries of Thistledown saw, projected onto the clouds, Bedlam’s horrific vision.  All the hummingbirds flew away.

Ghosts Thomas Breeson Salbert hill fortifications Old NATO station

Thomas Bresson via Wiki Media Commons. Salbert Hill fortifications Old NATO station

From Episode 14, The Etheraris Spiregris

“A Perversion of Phantoms,” River read aloud the title at the top of the timeworn page. 

 The long muskox hair fell limp against the page.  My hand dropped, resting against the page as Rhymer and I echoed River in stating the name of the spell.  All three of us were touching the pages of the incantation as we spoke.

 The three of us exchanged a look.  It was spontaneous, a coincidence.  We didn’t mean to speak in chorus but as one we gasped.

 “A Perversion of Phantoms!”

 Abruptly the heavy volume snapped shut.  The periwinkle muskox hair was still within, like a bookmark.  The room spun wildly.  It was like looking into a kaleidoscope. 

 Then the world shattered. 

Thistledown

Midsummer Bedlam 31

A Perversion of Phantoms

Rope Bare feet Dark_eva-blue-42498

Eva Blue, Unsplash

I relate this part of the story as it was told to me by my friends River Mindshadow and Rhymer Rainbow.

My friends and I had held precariously to the periwinkle colored muskox hair as we dangled in the great abyss.  Bob the hummingbird had brought me the magic-charged hair to guide me as I searched for understanding regarding my visions.  At that moment the fine hair was the only thing between the three of us and a potentially endless fall within the black abyss.  The huge furry faery, Field Yewwasp had rescued Rhymer Rainbow and then River Mindshadow.

(See Episode – 22, A Hair Aflame)

Thanks to the efforts of the crochet circle and Field, my friends were safe.  However, their well-being was damaged from their time in the dark place.  Willow Rainbow, Rhymer’s aunt called for the healer, Lavender Cozy.  The healer borrowed the big moonstone from Crescent Glimmer that she had used to examine what might be wrong beyond my physical ills.  Lavender used the moonstone on River and Rhymer.

(See Episode – 8, Shadows of Body and Mind)

Maiden and Moon_The Pink Fairy Book_1897_Andrew Lang artist unknown

The Maiden and the Moon, from The Pink Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang artist unknown circa 1897

Lavender shook her head in worry about their condition.  She ordered that my friends stay in bed and not be moved.  So, they stayed at Willow Rainbow’s charming yellow house, where they were when they were pulled from the abyss.  She wouldn’t allow them to even go to any of the Midsummer parties.

“It’s as if they are depressed,” Lavender Cozy said.  “That’s a very dangerous condition for faeries.”

Depression was unheard of in Thistledown, so the healer had to explain the condition.  She emphasized its seriousness.  She said it was not something that the girls could simply shake off or decide to change their moods.

The most worrisome part was that neither of the girls cared that they were missing the parties.  When the day arrived for the grand Midsummer party at Peaches Dragonfly’s orchard, Rhymer and River stayed in bed, without protest.  Concerned, Willow Rainbow stayed home to watch over the girls.  However, they finally persuaded her to go to the spectacular party Peaches was hosting.  It seemed to make them feel a little better that Willow would enjoy herself, so the woman reluctantly agreed.

After a while, shadows filled the bedroom.  Rhymer went to the window and looked at the sky.

“Oh my!  Such dark clouds in the sky.  Could there be a storm?  On Midsummer that’s not the norm,” Rhymer exclaimed.

Something thumped somewhere downstairs.  River jumped out of bed and hurried down the stairs toward the sound.  Rhymer went after River, long rainbow-colored hair streaming behind her as she ran.  They paused for a moment, waiting for any other sound.  Then they heard a rustling sound, like the pages of a book rapidly turning.

Ancient Book daniele-levis-pelusi-221717

Daniele Levis Pelusi, Unsplash

“I thought your aunt Willow put that book away.  Do you think…” River began.

“That’s coming from the library.  Let’s not tarry,” Rhymer replied.

Opening the door, the first thing the girls noticed was a wide empty spot on the top shelf, where Willow had put the ancient tome.  On the floor, the covers were open and the pages started to turn.  The Etheraris Spiregris moved of its own accord.

Cautiously the girls approached the powerful book that had gotten them into so much trouble.  Step by step they edged closer to the tome.  They were almost upon it when the sun seemed to go behind a heavy cloud.

Looking out the open window they saw that the sky had not clouded because of weather.  A thick flock of hummingbirds had darkened the sky.

Orange Pink Hummers Janet Weight Reed

Janet Weight Reed

“That must be every hummingbird in Thistledown!” River cried.

Then the tiny birds started streaming through the window into the library.  They went directly to the rustling pages of the Etheraris Spiregris.  A dozen of the humming birds flew in a circle around the ancient book.  The pages stilled.  Then the birds swooped down and tore out the page on which the book stopped.

River and Rhymer saw the page clearly as the hummingbirds tore it free.  It was the page containing the spell A Perversion of Phantoms.

The birds that had entered the farmhouse flew back outside.  It took several of the tiny avians to carry the page, but it didn’t seem difficult as their flight was so perfectly coordinated.  Then the mass of hummingbirds disappeared without a trace.

Everything became unnaturally quiet.

The End

***

This Week’s Faery Namers

Click the links to reveal the identity of the namers.  Be sure to visit the “secret” bloggers who have faeries named in honor of them in this episode.

Willow Rainbow  http://cerobinsonauthor.com/

Rhymer Rainbow  https://whenwomeninspire.com/

River Mindshadow  http://www.authortranslatorolga.com/

Field Yewwasp https://thestoryreadingapeblog.com/about/

Crescent Glimmer  https://annetterochelleaben.wordpress.com/

Lavender Cozy  https://doctorly.wordpress.com/

Valley Hummer https://jcrhumming.wordpress.com/tag/janet-weight-reed/

Impossible as it seems, it looks like all of the hummingbirds may have left Thistledown.  Tune in next weekend when I hope I’ll be able to tell you more.  Until then…

Hugs on the wing!

 

For an entirely different variety of “fae” read Atonement, Tennessee.  I’m currently editing book-2 and hope to publish soon.

Atonement Video Cover copy

Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

 

 

 

Copyright © 2018 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene 

All rights reserved. 

This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. 

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise. 

 

The Writer’s Reading Corner: Teagan Riordain Geneviene #IndieAuthor #fantasy

Thanks to Teri Polen for hosting me at her Writer’s Reading Corner!
We’ll have a fun and fabulous Friday the 13th. Click on over to Teri’s place. We’re talking about books that influenced us.  I’ve disabled comments here because I want you to get to know her wonderful blog. 

Happy weekend hugs!

Books and Such

Spring has finally arrived in western KY!  Yesterday was gorgeous and today looks to be the same.  I have a treat for you today – my guest is the infamous Teagan Riordain Geneviene.  Whether you’ve read her books or are a regular visitor to her blog, you’re familiar with the sparkling creativity that dwells within her mind (and if you’re not, here’s your chance), and today she’s giving us a glimpse at what has inspired her.  Welcome, Teagan!

Hi Teri. Thanks for letting me visit your Writer’s Reading Corner. Hello everyone. I’m Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene and I write whimsical stories. Whether it’s a cliffhanging blog serial, an urban fantasy, or a 1920s story, everything I write has a touch of whimsy.

I’m going to discuss an old favorite of mine – The Belgariad, a series by David Eddings. It’s a true epic, high fantasy. That was the style of…

View original post 271 more words

Jazz Age Wednesdays 28 ― Hullaba Lulu 3

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Ghost train station with color

Image by Rob Goldstein

Hi there, Sheiks and Shebas.  You’re at Jazz Age Wednesdays.  Today’s episode brings us to Chapter 3 of the new series, Hullaba Lulu.  It is not in the “Pip-verse” but it still takes place during the Roaring Twenties. 

Update:  Here’s a link to a stunning video Rob made for the story. Please click over and check it out — it’s pos-i-lutely the berries!

Don’t Bring Lulu

I’m having a pos-i-lutely fabulous time working with artist Rob Goldstein.  He’s creating gorgeous artwork, starting inspiring discussions, and sending me “three things” to spontaneously drive each chapter of this pantser story.   If you need to review Chapter 2, click here.  Today we catch up with our bearcat Lulu the day after all the wild happenings in the abandoned subway tunnel.  Read on to see where Rob’s next three things took me for this chapter.

Previously with Hullaba Lulu

Valentino went up the ladder first to push aside the heavy manhole cover.  However, it was already open.  We climbed up to the street.  I looked around for my friends.  In the distance I saw the two gals climbing the stairs to Pearl’s front door.

A sulfuric smell accompanied the strike of a match.  I turned to see Tom Driberg leaning nonchalantly against a Rolls-Royce.  Cigarette smoke curled above his head as he jotted something on a small notepad.  He looked at Valentino the same way he had looked at Rose and Pearl.

Without a word, Tom walked into the night.

Hullaba Lulu

Chapter 3

Saltwater Taffy, Raspberry-Red Rouge, Ouija Board

 

Lulu 5

Lulu by Rob Goldstein

The heels of my T-strap shoes clicked rhythmically against the cracked pavement, keeping me company.  I did a step-slide-step-brush of the Camel Walk dance as I walked down the deserted tunnel.  I was supposed to meet Rose and Pearl for a late breakfast.  However, neither of them showed.  So, I headed down to my secret place to console myself. 

Besides, maybe I’ll run into that man again.  I guess anybody who looks like the Sheik of Araby has a right to call himself Valentino.  But still… why didn’t Pearl or Rose show up? I’m the one who’s always late.

I remembered how oddly my friends had acted when that journalist, Tom Driberg, turned up the night before.  Then I thought about that car-full of government-looking types.  I suppressed a pang of genuine worry.  I did another a step-slide-step-brush to lighten my thoughts.

vAL Grams Station_012x

Gramps in the abandoned subway tunnel — Art by Rob Goldstein

Ever since I was a kid, Gramps had told me I wasn’t allowed in that part of the abandoned subway.  He always said it wasn’t safe, although I couldn’t tell that it was any different from the rest of the tunnels.  So of course, the forbidden area was my childhood playground.  The old station was the best place in the world for telling ghost stories.

The key to the station door hung from a ribbon around my neck.  When I found the key, years before, I started locking the door.  It became my special secret place and I didn’t want just anybody hanging out there.

My stash of saltwater taffy was behind the counter that had been the ticket desk when the station was in use.  I pulled off a sticky piece of the candy.  In a mood to reminisce, I took out my box of girlhood treasures. 

When I was little, one of the highlights of my week was when Gramps would let me take unclaimed things from the speakeasy’s lost-and-found.  One of those items was a dainty gilt embossed tin from Dorin of Paris*.  I removed the top of the raspberry-red rouge container.  Inside the lid was a tiny mirror.  I winked at my reflection and daubed a bit of the cosmetic on my cheeks.

Clumsy as ever, my elbow brushed against one of the dusty dead soldiers I had lined up over the years.  I caught the empty beer bottle just before it went over the edge of the counter. 

 

Lulu at table in station

Lulu in her secret place.  Image by Rob Goldstein

My knee bumped against something on the shelf under the desk.  I grinned when I saw what it was. 

“Well, hello there.  I haven’t seen you for a long time,” I muttered to my old plaything.

It had been a long time since I’d thought about the Ouija board.  I wasn’t sure if it had belonged to my mother.  It looked so old that it might have belonged to Gramps.  Anyhow, nobody seemed to use it, so I had quietly taken it to my secret place.

I bent to take the Ouija board from the shelf.  I placed it on the counter.  Taking out my handkerchief I wiped a coating of dust from the wooden board.  The letters of the alphabet formed an arch across the polished wood-grain, and the numbers one through nine, and then zero, were in a line below.

English_ouija_board

Ouija Board, Wiki Media Commons

Most people would have said the station could use a good cleaning.  However, I liked the spooky feeling of the cobwebs in corners and the dust on the floor.  My footprints made a chaotic pattern in the dust, back and forth from the door to the desk and throughout the station.  Any prints other than my own had long since blended into the dust.

Or so I had thought.  I walked around the desk, intent on investigating.  My hand still rested on the scratched surface.  My eyes widened when I realized there were new foot prints.  They were considerably larger than mine and came from pointy toed shoes.  That’s when, from the corner of my eye, I saw a movement near my hand.

I jerked back around to the Ouija board.  The planchette moved.  The small, heart-shaped piece of wood was meant to glide across the board’s surface, with the light, unguided pressure from the fingertips of the participants.  It was supposed to reveal subconscious thoughts or clairvoyant messages from beyond.

As I watched in stunned silence, the planchette moved from letter to letter, with no one touching it.

Quickly I grabbed a pad and pencil from the desk.  I wrote the letters to which it pointed.  Y, T, I, C, C, I, T, N, A, L, T, A.

Suddenly, I felt cool fingers touch my shoulder.  I jumped backward and screamed.

Ghost Station_017x

The abandoned subway station, by Rob Goldstein

***

The End

***

The Camel Walk* dance originated in the early 20th century.  Variations of it have been popular over the decades.  If you want to pick up Lulu’s dance steps there several are how-to videos.  Here’s one for a modern country version:

I hope you’ll click over and check out Rob’s blog.  You’ll find more fabulous images there. He’s not just a brilliant artist, he’s also an advocate for several important causes. 

Rob sent more “things” for Chapter 4 — Ectoplasm, Jung, and Orthophonic Victrola.  Be sure to come back next week to see where those take Lulu.

Thanks for visiting.  You’re the cat’s pajamas! 

 

PS:  I can’t forget my other 1920s books — the original “three things” stories about Paisley Idelle Peabody, aka Pip, and her friends.

Bijou front only 2

Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I

Novel-book-The Three Things Serial Story-Teagan Riordain Geneviene-The Writer Next Door-Vashti Q-spotlight-author

The Three Things Serial Story: A Little 1920s Story Kindle 

 

This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Artwork Copyright © 2018 by Rob Goldstein

Copyright © 2018 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.