Atonement TN Meets the Ice Dragon

Saturday, January 5, 2018

I had the next episode of Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers ready to post today.  Instead, we’re visiting Atonement, TN.  Why?  Diana Wallace Peach started a new monthly feature at her blog, Myths of the Mirror.  I caved into the temptation to play along. Click the link to learn more. 

Diana issued this lovely image as a prompt. I mistakenly thought she titled it “Ice Dragon” but that was actually the first reply to her prompt… Okay, so I’ve got a lot going on… and I’m blind as a bat too. (eye roll) So, now she has two “Ice Dragon” responses.  My bad.  What’s done is done.

stefan keller ice giant pixabay

Stefan Keller, Pixabay

I made mine part of my “Atonement, Tennessee” universe.  I’ll leave Ralda Lawton to tell you about it.

***

Shivering uncontrollably, I stiffly swung my legs off the bed.  The floor was not terribly cold, I couldn’t help being surprised to notice.

The brass bed was up to its old tricks.  

Not long after I moved into the rundown estate house in the quaint, but not so peaceful town of Atonement, Tennessee, I learned it was no ordinary bed.  It gave one dreams.  The dreams were often violent and always strange.  The trouble was that the far-fetched scenarios also had something to do with reality.

“I have got to get rid of that bed,” I muttered aloud.

Lilith, my cat, meowed in reply.  The calico was still nestled warmly in the covers, where my knees had been a moment before.

 

Lilith in snow

Dreamstime

I shuddered, remembering the dream, and not just because it left me cold.  The dream froze my heart with the pain of betrayal, abandonment, and isolation.

Instantly all the events and feelings of the dream rushed back into my mind and my body.  Sudden pain pierced my ribs.  I fell back onto my bed.

It started as another prophetic dream from that bed had begun, with Arianrhod’s silver wheel.

In the dream I hung precariously from the spokes of the wheel, taunted by voices that were not seen.  In fact, they weren’t really heard either, but I knew what they said nonetheless.

Despair overtook me and I relaxed my grip on the wheel.  I wondered if I should simply fall into the nothingness.

A gust of artic air lashed my skin.  My hands knew the pain of extreme cold.  The joints of my fingers stiffened.  As the wind howled, I lost my hold and fell.

My heart hammered wildly.  My arms flailed useless as I tumbled.

Then a fiery jolt rocked me as something hit my rib-cage.  My descent into nothing stopped.

I gasped first in pain, and again in shock.  I was flying.  Or rather the massive beast that caught me flew.

The impact to my ribs caused me to shift uncomfortably.  Then I realized that I was held in huge talons.  I abruptly stopped moving.  Even if it had not hurt to take air into my lungs, I would have been afraid to breathe.

blue claw beast-pixabay

Pixabay

My hands grasped an icy talon, desperate to hold on, in case the beast dropped me.

The midnight clouds retreated, allowing the moon to light the sky.  Tiny lights winked far below.  As the beast flew lower, I recognized the town of Atonement.

I felt a gentle shift of the creature’s muscles as its wings caught a current of air that again took us higher.  Moments later it deposited me on a ridge.  I could see the town below.  A few people were out and about at the late hour.  They were so far away that they seemed like ants.

Oddly, they carried lanterns.  Suddenly I wondered when I was.

I didn’t realize that I was crying until I felt the tears begin to freeze.  Trails of tears froze on my cheeks and collected at my chin, as if they would form an icy beard.  With the back of my hand I brushed the cold moisture from my face.

A sound like steam from an old-fashioned radiator caused me to turn.  It was the beast.

In the moon’s light I could see it clearly.  The creature’s hide was blue as if with cold.  Everything about it was either blue or white, from pale blue eyes that glittered like diamonds to the white clawed tips of its blue wings.

It snorted, causing a cloud of condensation.  Although its breath was only slightly warm on the cool night air.

Fortunately, and I use the term loosely, I’d had enough experience with the brass bed to know that I dreamed.  Else I would have been terrified, rather than just scared witless.

“Who―  Why―” I stammered unable to find sufficient words for the many questions that collided in my mind.  “Are you a― an―”

“Dragon?” it supplied.  “An ice dragon?

The steam sound came again in a quick succession of hisses.

“Are you laughing?” I was startled into asking.

The giant pale blue eye nearest me blinked.  I could have sworn I saw the glint of mischief there.

eyes forest aqua fantasy-pixabay

Pixabay

“Look down there, Esmeralda,” it began in a rumble.

The creature instructed and jutted out its icy bearded chin as if pointing toward the town below.

It worried me that it named me Esmeralda rather than the shortened “Ralda” that I claimed for my name.  In my experience up until then with my new town, that didn’t bode well.  The supernaturals were the only ones who insisted on calling me Esmeralda.

“I borrowed Arianrhod’s wheel to speak with you, and though her power is nothing compared to mine, I will only borrow it, not take it.  Of course, I could have used the Queen of Winter to relay a message… but the wheel amuses me,” the ice dragon rambled in a reflective tone before getting back to business.

“But I digress.  Where was I?  Oh yes.  On occasion I give in to an odd, altruistic impulse.  So, I have brought you here to impart something important,” the dragon told me.

I was much too close and it was far too large for me to be able to see more than the one eye.  However, that eye narrowed slyly.

“I probably should not tell you, but where would the fun be in following rules?  You, Esmeralda,” it used my given name again and the tone suggested it knew the thought I had about that a moment before.  “If you want to break the cycle that keeps giving you rebirth into the same betrayed, embattled situations.  If you want to one day be born into a safe, loving existence, then you must learn and understand your origins.”

I stopped breathing.  With ice in the pit of my stomach, I knew that dream was just as prophetic and just as real as the first dream ― the first time I dreamed in the brass bed.  I also knew the real events that would result from the dream would be equally dangerous, and worse, full of detestable fae magic!

“But Esmeralda, that is not enough.  The Queen of Winter could tell you that much ― although she would make you earn the knowledge, probably through that willful mirror.  What you also must learn and understand is the origin of the town itself,” the dragon added.

Abruptly, rough gusts of cold wind battered me.  I staggered backward.  The ice dragon lifted into the night sky.  I stared up at the darkness.  Then I looked down at the tiny lights of the town below.

I jerked convulsively when the hiss of laughter was again at my shoulder, through whatever kind of magic the dragon held.

“Esmeralda, you must comprehend that some inhabitants of Atonement are not there to atone.  They have a fundamental relationship with the place.  If you want to survive, you need a better understanding of the townsfolk, like the Metatron sisters.  And you must, must understand why the wings of Cael Adriel are black, rather than gold,” the dragon finished emphatically.

gold angel on black pixabay

Pixabay

The huge blue eye glittered playfully.  It blinked and the dragon was abruptly gone.

Now wake, Esmeralda!”

Shuddering, gasping, I tried to shake off the aftereffects of the dream.

“Coffee… I really, really need coffee,” I muttered.

Lilith jumped down from the bed and went to the door.  In her mind, coffee meant breakfast for her.

I gave a different kind of groan when I sat up on the edge of the bed.  I lifted my pajama top and looked in the mirror.

A wide bruise purpled across my ribs.

***

Now some shameless self-promotion.

Universal link to my Amazon Author Page

USA:  Atonement in Bloom

Amazon UK

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USA:  The Glowing Pigs, Snort Stories of Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

Atonement Video Cover copy

USA:  Atonement, Tennessee

(E-book still on sale at 99¢ )

Amazon UK

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USA:  Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I

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

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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.

A Bloomin’ Barn

Saturday, December 8, 2018

Atonement TN aetna-diner-vintage-postcard-Dan Antion

Image courtesy Dan Antion

When I was ready to publish Atonement in Bloom, blogger extraordinaire Dan Antion did the first ever (as far as we know) fictional Thursday Doors post.  He used doors and buildings from his part of the country that made him think of my quirky fantasy town in Tennessee. 

Recently, with the photos Dan posted for Thursday Doors, he shared more of the images he considered for that Atonement promo post. Among those photos was an old barn that reminded me of a scene from Atonement in Bloom.  Dan gave me permission to use it here.  So, I decided to share another snippet from my latest novel.

Pig Valentine 2

Based on my blog posts, anyone might think my Atonement novels are all about animals.  However, the core of the story is an everyday person whose plate is full with a real world that suddenly seemed full of supernaturals.  The critters are just a side-dish of whimsy.  Their parts are also easier to share in blog posts.  That said, here’s a new excerpt featuring Lilith, the calico cat.  She’s an ordinary cat… but all cats are extraordinary.

Setup.  Lilith got a little too adventurous, sniffing out a magical beast.  Frightened, as any sensible feline would be, she jumped to the nearest hiding spot.  Unfortunately, that spot was the open back of the Fae’s Flowers van.  Soon Gwydion got behind the wheel and the van cruised down the road.  Lilith was so rattled from the magic she had witnessed, that she was afraid to make her presence known.  Besides, Gwydion sounded really angry. Finally the van stopped. 

A Bloomin’ Barn

Central Pennsylvania barn_Dan Antion

Photo by Dan Antion

There were a few cows nearby.  Lilith couldn’t see them but her ears and nose told her about them.  The barn had faded red paint, but it was built on a stone foundation and it had a bright tin roof, so it looked dry and safe.

The calico wondered if she should get out of the van since it had finally stopped.  Maybe she should go to the safe looking barn.  Lilith didn’t like being in the van, but she knew nothing about where she was, except that it would be a very long trot to get home.  Esmeralda would be most upset with her by the time she finally got there… probably sometime the next evening.

She heard Gwydion arguing with men inside the barn. 

“Where is it?” he demanded.  “Where is the mirror?”

Lilith heard Gwydion’s voice clearly.  It seemed unlike him to be harsh, especially not so often.  She missed his lilting flirty voice and wondered what had become of that side of him.  If Gwydion had become so hateful, perhaps she didn’t want to be in the van with him again.

She swished her tail in indecision.  Just as she was about to jump, Lilith became aware that she wasn’t alone.  The old woman stepped up beside her.

blue-hair-Bun Beira Pixabay free

Pixabay

“Hello little heart.  This is a surprise!  You truly are the inquisitive one, aren’t you, to come all the way out here?” Beira the Crone said, and her long lapis-blue braid swung as she leaned down to scratch the cat’s cheek.

In the sunlight her complexion didn’t look quite so blue, just very pale. 

“Never you mind that hotheaded fae.  I’ll see you home.  I have to visit your Sunhold anyway,” she said.

That was when Lilith saw the awful mirror.  She had thought never to see it again.  Lilith hissed and arched her back, hackles rising.

“Now, now.  There’s no need to be that way.  It’s not an evil thing, you know.  It just shows the truth… in one way or another,” Beira said reasonably.  “Well… I have to admit that it can be cryptic and even mischievous, but it’s not altogether malevolent,” the old woman said of the Mirror of Truth and Justice Most Poetic.

The calico wondered why anyone would want the nasty mirror.  She meowed her disapproval at Beira.  Cailleach Bheur seemed to understand.

Lilith and mirror

Dreamstime

The old woman’s eyes narrowed as she paused for thought.  Beira made a tsk sound.

“Taking the mirror from Gwydion will be a small beginning toward settling his debt,” she said.

The comment sounded vengeful to Lilith’s ears.  She tilted her head as she regarded Beira.  The old woman relaxed visibly, seeming to put aside her unkind thoughts.

“Calm yourself and come with me,” she said stroking the calico’s soft fur.  “If it makes you feel better, I’ll get you home so quickly that Esmeralda will never realize you’ve been gone.”

“What do you mean it’s gone?” Gwydon’s irate voice was easily audible.

Beira’s promise, combined with a crash from within the barn and another furious yell from Gwydion was all the persuasion she needed.  Lilith leapt into Beira’s arms.

***

Ah yes, that naughty mirror from “Atonement, Tennessee” came back for a cameo in “Atonement in Bloom,” although its part wasn’t as large.  I expect it will show up again in book three.   

I hope you enjoyed this little detour.  Join me at the station on Wednesday for the next Hidebound Hump Day.  We’ll catch the #SteamPunk train for Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers with Chapter 21. The random “things” driving that episode are Moustache Cup, Apricot Charlotte, Mangle.

I’ll be looking for you at the station.  Mega hugs!

Update:  I love your comments. Forgive me if my replies are short.  This morning I cut two fingers. I’m fine, but the bandages make typing ridiculously difficult.  

***

Now some shameless self-promotion.

Universal link to my Amazon Author Page

USA:  Atonement in Bloom

Amazon UK

Pigs collection cover banner

USA:  The Glowing Pigs, Snort Stories of Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

Atonement Video Cover copy

USA:  Atonement, Tennessee

(E-book still on sale at 99¢ )

Amazon UK

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USA:  Murder at the Bijou — Three Ingredients I

Amazon UK

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

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

Amazon UK

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.

A Bloomin’ Otherworldly Pigs Snippet

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Pigs Road Moon unsplash composite

Deme and Honeybell, otherworldly pigs of Atonement, TN

Welcome, everyone.   I hope you’ve had a wonder-filled week.  Something fun and unexpected happened to me.  More on that in a second.  First things first.

If I had never written Atonement, Tennessee then I would have never started this blog.  I wouldn’t have written any of the 1920s serials, or met any of you wonderful people. 

I was privileged to become acquainted with baker, blogger, and author Robbie Cheadle back when I did the “Thistledown — Midsummer Bedlam” serial.  Robbie’s talents have blossomed so much that she now has two blogs to support her diverse forms of writing and creativity:  Robbie’s Inspiration, and Roberta Writes

I was delighted when Robbie told me she read Atonement, Tennessee — and thrilled when she mentioned that she was going to review it this weekend.  (Update:  Link to Robbie’s review.)

Now my other wonder-filled moment of this week.  A friend returned from a vacation to New York and brought me a very special little treat.  The reason why it is a special treat is that someone was reminded of my characters and books even while having a wonderful vacation.  That means a lot to me. 

Pink Pig with Glowing Pigs cover

She gave me this little pig figure, and it was so much like Deme and Honeybell, the otherworldly pigs!  The little pink, winged pig with a feather boa grunt-snuffle-snorted its way into a gift shop.  (Now Honeybell is in my head, demanding a feather boa, and Deme is wearing a crown, although she’s gotten it lopsided…)

The glowing pigs were not in the first novel, Atonement, Tennessee, but they have several short stories, and they made a couple of brief appearances in Atonement in Bloom.  In honor of The Glowing Pigs, I’m sharing a snippet from “Bloom” that includes them.

After a strange day, Ralda Lawton is having a restless night. First she has a frightening dream, but she manages to go back to sleep.  Then she wakes again and…

A Glowing Warning

black sailing boat digital wallpaper

Johannes Pleino, Unsplash

Lilith made an odd meow and jumped up from her spot on the bed and over to the dresser.  I closed my eyes tighter, because it seemed almost as if the light switch had been flipped.  I cracked open my eyes, desperately wanting to sleep.  I reached for the nightstand lamp to turn it off, but found that it was not lit.  Yet the bedroom was illuminated by a soft radiance.

My gaze moved from the lamp to the dresser where I’d heard Lilith jump.  From that vantage point she watched something in feline fascination.  Sleepily I sat up so I could see what had her attention.  When I looked, I questioned both my wakefulness and my sanity.

Glowing pigs gathered around, circling my brass bed, snuffling and snorting.  After a moment their random grunts came together as one rhythmic voice — grunt-snort, snuffle-grunt-snort.  The chant went on until it started to sound like my name, Ral-da, Esme-Ral-da.

One pig moved away from the rest of its drift, as I had learned a group of young pigs was called.  I marveled to realize that it had blue eyes.  I didn’t know pigs could jump, but it bounded onto the foot of my bed.  Sitting back on its curly porcine tail, it locked its sapphire orbs onto my own eyes.  Maybe I could have looked away from that intent gaze, but I was too dumbfounded to try.

Pig in water forest-simon-1139462-unsplash

Forest Simon, Unsplash

“Deme, no.  You are too bold!” I heard one of the other pigs say.

“Don’t be silly Honeybell,” replied the pig that jumped onto my bed.  “Besides, you know this must be done.”

I actually put my finger into my ear and twisted it around, as if I could fix the crazy things I was hearing.  Even in a dream, pigs shouldn’t talk.  And of course I must be dreaming.  It had to be the wretched brass bed messing with me again.

The pig on the foot of my bed snorted in a way that sounded like chuckling when the other one spoke.  I gathered this blue-eyed one’s name was Deme.

“Ralda-Esmeralda, you must take great care,” Deme spoke to my continued amazement.  “There are too many supernaturals in Atonement, Tennessee, too many different plans are in play at once.  More than one of them is very dangerous!  And the Keeper of the Eastern Winds is not present to protect you,” the porcine voice warned me.

♣ — ♣

Had Ralda fallen into another dream?  Surely such a thing couldn’t happen.  Yet then again, Atonement, TN is no ordinary town.  If you want to know, you’ll have to read Atonement in Bloom.  

I hope you’ll join me Wednesday for Hidebound Hump Day and another chapter of Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers.  The random “things” driving the next episode are Indian Head Penny, and Brocade of a White Lion.  You’ll also meet characters from the Pip-verse!

I’ll be looking for you at the station! 

***

Now some shameless self-promotion.

Atonement in Bloom

Amazon UK

Pigs collection cover banner

The Glowing Pigs, Snort Stories of Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

Atonement Video Cover copy

Atonement, Tennessee

(E-book still on sale at 99¢ )

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 © 2015 and 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.

 

A Bloomin’ Good Week in Atonement TN – It’s Catnip!

Saturday, November 17, 2018

Cat silhouette Tree_saso-tusar-130051

Unsplash

Welcome, to my sanctuary.   Could I offer you some coffee or tea, and a pastry or maybe a breakfast biscuit?  Something more unusual — perhaps herbal tea… maybe even catnip tea? 

I had a few days away from my job, and other than a migraine and snow (both on Thursday), it’s been great.  Of course there was a lot going on, just the same — and stressful as you might guess by the migraine.  But it’s all good now.  I’m finally relaxing a bit.

My head is still in my Atonement, TN universe because Atonement in Bloom got two reviews this week!  I’m really excited about them.  Thanks to Barb Taub for sharing her review of Atonement in Bloom.  I’m thrilled that she enjoyed my latest release. 

feline-calico_xs_3280429

Dreamstime

If you haven’t read the first book (Atonement, Tennessee) you might want to stay here though, if you’re hyper sensitive to finding things out anyway. 

Teri Polen also did a marvelous review.  Teri’s post and the comments got a conversation started about Atonement’s part-time narrator, Lilith the calico cat.  At Teri’s the kind and fun suggestion that Lilith should have her own book became a catalyst when it mixed with an idea that’s been catnapping in my brain.  I think I’ve figured out how to tell book-3!  I had been stumped as to how I should go about writing that story, but now I have some ideas simmering.

Speaking of that catnip loving feline, with the the first book I did a character interview with Lilith

Sorry if I seem like a cat with a bowl of cream, but I’m so pleased with these, and all the reviews “Bloom” has gotten.  …Do you detect a feline feeling with this post? 

Catnip flowers.jpg

Wikimedia Commons

Many people are familiar with the effect catnip has on most cats.  In the Atonement universe, Lilith the calico is no exception.  Moreover, Gwydion is sort of Lilith’s “catnip” figuratively too.  That leads the calico into a bit of trouble in “Atonement in Bloom,” but I don’t want to spoil anything by telling you about that. 

Gwydion has flower magic.  Cats might act like they’re under a spell when they get some “nip” but there’s science behind it.

Old meanings associated with flowers (or the language of flowers) are mentioned in the Atonement novels.  I didn’t think catnip was included in that, but I found something for it today.  Some say it symbolizes love, beauty, and happiness. It certainly tends to make cats happy! 

If you are concerned about the origins of store bought nip, you might grow your own.  You can use it yourself too (if you can get it away from your cats).  For humans, catnip tea is supposed to “provide a mild euphoria” but in my experience, the effects are so mild as to be barely noticeable.  However, it is reputed to have other benefits, such as anti-inflammatory, and as an insect repellent.  You might find you have helpers when you harvest it.  Here’s a fun video about growing your own catnip.

♣ — ♣

Thanks for visiting.  I hope you’ll join me Wednesday for Hidebound Hump Day and another chapter of Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers.  If you missed the last chapter, here’s a link to Crinoline, Lye Soap, and Caterpillar.  The random “things” driving the next week’s episode are Pen Knife, Indian Head Penny, and Brocade of a White Lion.  Yes, somebody actually got that detailed with the random “things”… but I managed to continue the story. 

I’ll be looking for you at the station!

***

Now some shameless self-promotion.

Atonement in Bloom

Amazon UK

Pigs collection cover banner

The Glowing Pigs, Snort Stories of Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

Remember, book-1, Atonement, Tennessee is on sale for 99¢ for the e-book.

Atonement Video Cover copy

Atonement, Tennessee

(E-book still on sale at 99¢ )

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.

 

Superstitions You Might Find in Atonement TN

Saturday, November 10, 2018

The amazing Sue Vincent recently hosted me at her Daily Echo blog.  We were talking about superstitions and I shared some from my youth.  I had a great time at Sue’s and I hope you’ll click over to visit her.

I expect the townsfolk in fictional Atonement, TN would tend to be superstitious.  How could they be otherwise with all the strange goings on and supernatural beings?

The first writing advice I heard was something I took to heart ― Write what you know.  When I wrote Atonement, Tennessee I followed that guidance and created a fictional southern town where the urban fantasy takes place.  Of course, the second novel, Atonement in Bloom, is also set there.

I made it a very small, rural town so some of the manners and personalities I grew up with would not seem out of place.  The townsfolk would be familiar with the old superstitions that were often quoted to me.

tilt shift photography of yellow flower plants with spider web

Unsplash

I’ve always wanted to collect old southern superstitions.  I wish I had written them down back in the day, because I’m sure I’ve forgotten many.  I agree with Sue that so much of that kind of thing is lost.  Some of them are fun or charming.  Others, not so much…

From my grandmother:

  • If a young woman left her handkerchief outside overnight, a spider would weave a web on it. The next morning the dewdrops on a spiderweb would reveal the name of her future husband.
  • A dream dreamed on Friday and told on Saturday will come true, no matter how old.
round copper-colored coins

Unsplash

  • Never give anyone a purse or wallet without adding at least a penny to it. Else you will be made poor.
  • Never give someone a knife without also giving them a penny. Else they will harm you with it (whether or not they mean to).
  • If dogs howl three nights in a row, someone will die.  (Wasn’t she full of cheery thoughts?)
  • Dogs and cats attract lightning. She warned me that I should put my pets outside in a storm rather than cuddle them.  I refused to do so and held them tighter every time it thundered.  As you might guess, I didn’t exactly have the happiest childhood…
black dog wearing blue denim collar

Unsplash

From other relatives:

  • If your pets are extra playful, there’s going to be a change in the weather.
  • Bees won’t sting you during a month with a name that has an “R” in it.  (I refuse to test that one – I have anaphylactic reactions to bee stings.)
  • It’s too early in the year to go barefoot outside if the whippoorwill hasn’t begun to call.
  • Any chore that you do on New Year’s Day – you will be doing all year.
  • For every black-eyed pea you eat on New Year’s Day, you’ll get a penny. (The dads would give the kids the penny for each pea – as long as they didn’t eat too many.  Although I like them now, I didn’t like black-eyed peas back then.  I asked if I could have a dollar instead.  That was not well received.  I didn’t even get the pennies for the five peas I ate.)
    That’s actually more of a tradition. The superstition was that eating black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day brought good luck, and the good luck meal for that day was black-eyed peas, turnip (or collard) greens, and ham, preferably with a side of cornbread (no sugar in that bread!). 
  • If your nose itches, company is coming.
  • If your ears are burning, somebody is talking about you.
  • Don’t cut your hair on the new moon, because you won’t get your money’s worth from the hair cut — it will grow too fast.
  • Don’t have teeth pulled when the “Signs” are in the head.  This refereed to a anatomical Zodiac chart in the Old Farmer’s Almanac — however it had nothing to do with that hippie astrology stuff. It was just the Signs.
assorted-color umbrella hanging on gray wires

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From my playmates:

  • Never open an umbrella indoors.  (I didn’t understand that one.  Was it going to rain inside if I did?  That rather appealed to me, so I tried several times with no effect.)
  • Hold the stem of an apple. Twist it once for each letter as you recite the alphabet.  The letter on which the stem breaks will be the first letter of your boyfriend’s name.

My little friends and I used that one a lot. It gave us fits, trying to make the stem break on letters that were very early, or later in the alphabet. Based on my former husband’s name, the apple was right.  I recommend eating pears in stead. 

red apple in person's palm

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All those superstitions reminded me of the very naughty mirror Ralda Lawton discovered in the old estate house she bought.  Here’s a snippet about the Mirror of Truth and Justice Most Poetic.

Lacey Hampton led me down the foyer in her home.  I stifled a gasp when I saw the mirror I had sent to the consignment store the day before.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Lacey said sheepishly.  “I was quite taken with it.  Oh shoot!  That’s the second time,” she said stooping down and frowning.

When I looked down, I saw the reason for her reaction.  There were several red droplets on the floor beneath the mirror.  I had the morose thought that it looked like teardrops of blood.  I felt a chill along my spine.  It made me think of the reddish stain the wardrobe where I found the mirror.

Lacey speculated aloud that it was rust.  After all, the frame was metal.  Annie must have cleaned the frame and it had not dried properly.  I didn’t make any comment.  Looking at the smear on the napkin I would have said it looked more like blood than rust, but that was a ridiculous thought.

Ornate Mirror autoestima-cidada-682096-unsplash.jpg

Autoestima Cidada, Unsplash

***

Would you risk several years of bad luck to smash that creepy mirror and get rid of it?  Somehow I don’t think it would be that easy to do away with the Mirror of Truth and Justice. 

I’ll see you at the station to catch the #SteamPunk train for the next chapter of Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers on Hidebound Hump Day this Wednesday.

***

Now some shameless self-promotion.

Atonement in Bloom

Amazon UK

Pigs collection cover banner

The Glowing Pigs, Snort Stories of Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

Atonement Video Cover copy

Atonement, Tennessee

(E-book still on sale at 99¢ )

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 © 2012 and 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.

 

Matchmaking Pigs in Atonement, Tennessee

Saturday, August 25, 2018

Pigs Road Moon unsplash composite

Deme & Honeybell, looking for adventure again

Deme and Honeybell, the otherworldly glowing pigs of Atonement, Tennessee had so much fun visiting with you recently that they talked me into letting them have the spotlight again today.  Yes, it’s another snort story.

If you’ve been following me for awhile, please forgive me for another rerun.  The past couple of work-months have been so “over the top” that I’m surprised I’ve managed to post at all.  I ran this as a Valentines story last year, but it doesn’t have to be about that.

Last week you met a much younger Marge Tipton.  She is a minor character in the “Atonement” books.  I enjoyed giving her extra life here on the blog.  She owns the local diner and she’s suitably quirky for the town.

It’s fewer than 2,500 words.  I hope this snort story leaves you with a happy glow

Deme and Honeybell — Matchmakers

Unsplash

Silver light washed down from the moon to illumine the sidewalk.  Earth’s lone satellite was just past full.  The clock in the town square struck midnight on February 14th.

The moon wasn’t the only thing that glowed that night.  Two friends also emanated an ethereal radiance of their own, as they walked the deserted street.

Honeybell gave a surreptitious glance over her shoulder toward the second of two traffic lights on the main street of Atonement, Tennessee.  She grunted softly, fascinated by the slowly changing colors, red to green to yellow to red. 

It seemed an odd decoration.  It made her nervous.  This was all Deme’s idea.  Honeybell hoped her friend wouldn’t land them in trouble.  Deme could be something of a prankster, and Honeybell was getting the same reputation.  Still looking over her shoulder at the lights, Honeybell gave a loud snort as she bumped into Deme.

2-pigs-traffic-light

Deme & Honeybell, composite image by Teagan

Pay attention and stop acting like an unsophisticated pig,” Honeybell silently scolded herself.

Deme had stopped.  Her eyes were closed in concentration.  When she opened them, her sapphire orbs were bright with excitement.  She reared up to point at the sign, Annie’s Antiques and Consignment Shop, and her front hooves came back to the sidewalk with a sharp clip.

“It’s still here!” Deme quietly exclaimed.

Honeybell wagged her curly tail happily.

“What about the woman?  Is she close enough?” she asked Deme, concerned about all the details coming together properly.

“The woman lives near the first red-green-yellow light.  It is an easy run from here,” Deme replied in a satisfied tone.

The glow from the two otherworldly pigs brightened a as they stared at the door of the antique shop.  Grunt, snuffle, snort.  Grunt, snuffle, snort,” they vocalized in unison.

Annies antiques

Annie’s Antiques

The door swung open, shop-bell chiming in welcome.  Deme and Honeybell walked inside.

“I feel it!” Honeybell cried.  “I feel the rose quartz.”

Honeybell made a beeline to the back of the shop and a glass case.  As the pigs drew near, a necklace inside the case illuminated.  The filigree setting was polished brightly and held a large heart-shaped gem.  The pastel pink rose quartz stone pulsed softly in ruddy radiance.

“It’s as if the heart is beating,” Honeybell said in awe.  “What a lovely gem.”

Deme agreed, her sapphire blue eyes wide.  “Rose quartz helps us accept and love ourselves,” she replied agreeably.

Honeybell nosed at the necklace until it fell from the glass shelf to hang around her neck.  Deme made a sardonic grunt at her friend.

“The most practical way to carry the necklace is to hang it around my neck,” Honeybell explained in a very indignant tone.  “Oh look!  That light over there is not earthly,” she quickly changed the subject, and was happy when Deme followed her gaze. (More about Annie’s Inventory Notes here.)

The otherworldly pigs went to investigate the luminescence near the cash register at the front of the store.  The light shone through several layers of paper in the special inventory notes kept by Annie, the shop owner.  If the writing glowed, that meant an item had awakened.  Deme and Honeybell looked at the rosy sparkle of the necklace and nodded to each other in approval.

***

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After a briskly refreshing run, the two otherworldly pigs entered the home of bacehlorette and local diner owner, Marge Tipton.

Deme looked around the spotless kitchen.  She saw a local newspaper and an advertisement on the table.  There was also a deposit receipt from the local First Bank & Trust.

Honeybell snuffled as she scented the air and listened to the vibrations of the house.  “I feel a lot of hidden sadness,” Honeybell murmured, eyes brimming with tears.

“So do I, but get ahold of yourself.  We can’t afford to let our own emotions get mixed in with what we’re about to do,” Deme told her firmly.  “Things could go quite badly if we did.”

The small pigs moved toward the bedroom where they could hear the regular breathing of Marge Tipton.

“She is soundly asleep,” Deme whispered.  “Honeybell, you seem better attuned to this woman than I am.  Do you detect anything in this house that can be used to work with the rose quartz necklace?” Deme questioned, delegating some of the authority she had bestowed upon herself.

A collection of old vintage photos, postcards, and envelopes from Europe.

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Honeybell snuffled and grunted quietly.  She went to a box in the closet.  A broad satin ribbon was tied around the box.  Honeybell pulled the ribbon, untying the bow.  Inside was a stack of old postcards, with postmarks in the 1980s. 

One postcard had been torn in half and then taped back together.  Honeybell noticed the scribbled writing said “I can’t wait to get back to Phoenix to see you.  Love, Chad.” 

Some of the cards were marred by tear-stains, particularly one that was addressed to “Marla” with the name crossed out and “Marge” written next to it.  Most of the words were rendered illegible by the long dry tears.

With an excited snort, Honeybell scampered back to the kitchen.  Deme followed curiously.  The checkered cloth muffled the clatter of Honeybell’s hooves when she bounded onto the kitchen table.  Her twisty little tail wagged at a quick pace as she inspected a colorful sheet of paper.

The two pigs went over every inch of the flyer and the newspaper article that lay next to it, and the bank slip too.  The ad was from the Rowdy Rooster, a large redneck bar outside the town of Atonement.

“Hit recording artist and 80s TV star of The Medical Files, Chad Allen to perform!” Deme read the flyer.

Medical Center, Wikimedia

“The postcards were to Marge from Chad Allen,” Honeybell whispered then looked at the newspaper.  “They were lovers when she was a young woman.  Marge had a happy life then in Adrian, Texas.  But he left her to travel with the rodeo and got famous.  Then he recorded a hit song and did that television series and became a big star — for a while anyway.”

“He lied to Marge for years before she could admit the truth to herself.  She felt so betrayed and so ashamed that she never forgave herself for being foolish.  Then she came here when her brother begged her, saying he needed her,” Honeybell commented knowingly.

“So she is not in Atonement, Tennessee to atone,” Deme commented in a speculative tone.  “Her brother is.”

“Perhaps she actually is atoning too,” suggested Honeybell.  “Because she would not love herself enough to say no to those who did not deserve her love.”

The glowing pigs looked at each other for a moment.  They seemed to come to a silent agreement.

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“Help me put everything back the way we found it,” Deme said and they put the newspaper, flyer, and even the bank receipt in place.  “Let’s leave the rose quartz laying on these papers.  That should be enough to get things started,” Deme said.

Honeybell dropped the necklace onto the papers.  There was a tiny spark when the gem touched them.  Then the rosy radiance filled the entire room before dying down.

*** 

“Come on Marge!  So what if you don’t care about seeing a washed up TV star.  It’ll be a night out with the girls.  We’re both scheduled to be off,” Jenny, the lead waitress at L-O-L-A Lola’s Bar and Grille, pleaded into the phone.  “When you turn loose, you’re the life of the party!”

“Good gravy, Jenny.  It’s too early in the morning to be planning a night at a bar,” Marge grumbled sleepily.

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However, Jenny saying Marge was the life of the party brought a reluctant smile to the woman’s lips.  She had never told a soul in Atonement, Tennessee about the Chad Allen episode, as she thought of it.  She told her brother Tracey once, but he was too drunk to remember, so that didn’t count.

Jenny was still talking, but Marge had slipped into the past.  Every time she thought of her home back in Adrian, Texas she became melancholy.

Marge shook her head thinking of that evening of inebriated confessions with her brother.  They both sure had tied one on.  She thought it was such a shame that her brother couldn’t get past his drinking.  Tracey had a good heart and was surprisingly generous.  Once he gave her a diamond tennis bracelet for no reason at all.  She knew he must have saved his money for years to buy it.

“It won’t be half as much fun without you.  All the girls still love Chad Allen,” Jenny went on, and for a second Marge thought she might change her mind.

Opening the refrigerator door, Marge took out a container of milk.  The coffee was done.  As she poured the steaming liquid into her mug, she wondered what it would be like to see Chad again, even from across the big room of the Rowdy Rooster. 

Cappuccino in a white cup on a saucer with foam art and a small spoon

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Then all the scenarios of what people would tell her she should do, what she should feel blasted into her head.  Maybe Chad had changed.  His star had risen and fallen.  What if he had actually become the person he made her think he was back then, before she learned what a lying, philandering jerk he really was.

Marge was sure anybody she knew would tell her she should — no she had to go and see him.  She gave her head a shake.  Would she feel vindicated or sad if the years had been unkind to him?  She told herself that he’d never recognize her.  If he did, he’d likely cringe at her appearance and pretend he didn’t remember.

She took a deep breath and brought her attention back to Jenny on the phone.  Making up an excuse, Marge turned Jenny down in a firm “boss” voice.  Jenny had worked for her long enough to know that tone brooked no argument.

Marge hung up the phone.  Coffee mug in hand, she went to the kitchen table to finish reading the newspaper.  That was when she noticed the beautiful antique necklace laying there.

“How?  Who?” Marge stammered.

Unsplash

She picked up the rose quartz necklace with a sigh at its beauty.  “Tracy,” she murmured thinking her brother must have left it there to surprise her.  It couldn’t have been anyone else.

Marge plopped down into a chair.  She glanced at the newspaper article and Rowdy Rooster advertisement about her old love, Chad.  She read both for the twentieth time.  With each reading she promised herself she would never be betrayed again.

It didn’t occur to her that she held the rose quartz necklace tightly in her hand, or that she didn’t want to put it down.  Then she fastened it around her neck.  Not only was the necklace the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, she felt pretty just for wearing it.

***

That evening Marge tidied up the kitchen.  She picked up the newspaper and the receipt from First Bank & Trust.  It was a morbid attraction, but she couldn’t help looking at the flyer.  Taking a beer from the fridge, she read the article one more time.

“Marge Tipton,” she told herself aloud.  “Don’t you ever let your guard down like that again!” 

She had no wish to see Chad again.  She had firmly stomped on the imagined voices of everyone saying she should do.  So Marge wasn’t sure why she changed into some party clothes that evening, still wearing the rose quartz necklace.  Neither could she have said why she got into her mint condition 1972 red Chevy C10 pickup truck and drove way out highway 41 to the Rowdy Rooster.

Almost an hour later Marge got out of her truck and walked across the parking lot.  The noise of the patrons lived up to the name of the Rowdy Rooster.

Her footsteps became slower as she moved toward the door.  The sound of the crowd inside grated against her nerves.  She couldn’t imagine why she had come there in the first place, after flatly turning down Jenny’s invitation.  Marge didn’t realize she had stopped in the middle of the parking lot.

1972 Chevy C10 Shortbed Stepside Pickup

1972 Chevy C10 Shortbed Stepside Pickup

“Marge?  I mean, Ms. Tipton?” a voice intruded on her confused thoughts.

She turned toward the voice feeling muddled.  “I only had one beer before I left home.  What’s the matter with me?” she wondered and gave herself a mental shake.

He was barely recognizable in cowboy boots and a sport coat.  Marge had only seen Russell Skeen, the manager of the First Bank & Trust, in a dark business suit.

“Are you okay, Ms. Tipton?” Russell repeated.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I just suddenly felt a little out of sorts, that’s all.  And please call me Marge,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat with a blush.  “I should have stayed at home,” she murmured.

“I know what you mean,” Russell admitted.  “I do like the cowboy boots my daughter gave me, but I can’t say I care for this place.  I let my daughter pester me into agreeing to join her and her friends tonight.  Then wouldn’t you know, she just now called to say she won’t be coming,” he added in a bemused tone.  “She means to get me out more,” he said with a shrug.

Russell Skeen drew back a bit and looked at Marge curiously.  His hand rose toward her, but he stopped himself.  He shook his head and chuckled.

 

Marge at LOLAs

Marge Tipton at LOLA Lola’s

“For a second there I thought your necklace was glowing.  It must have been all those facets reflecting the light,” Russell told her.  “I see that you like antiques.  That one’s a beauty.”

Marge unthinkingly put her hand to the rose quartz necklace.  It felt very warm to the touch.  She looked at the unassuming bank manager as if she had never truly seen him before.  Marge was pleased with what she saw.

“You know, there are a few antique shops between here and Atonement.  I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather browse through them than be inside that noisy bar.  Do you think you could join me?  Maybe we could get some coffee somewhere too?”

Marge looked toward the Rowdy Rooster.  She thought about the flyer advertising Chad Allen.  She thought of the stack of postcards she kept even though he had betrayed her.

She picked up the rose quartz and held it so that she could look at it.  “Why did it feel so warm?  It actually does seem to be glowing a little,” Marge thought.

“Mr. Skeen, I think that sounds like a fine idea,” she told him.

“Only if you call me Russell,” he replied as he walked her back to her pickup truck and politely took her hand as she climbed up into the cab.

“Did you hear that?” she asked Russell.  “I could have sworn I heard a snuffling, snorting sound, like pigs.”

“There’s lots of farmland around here.  It could be that one got loose.  But you’d think all the bacon they serve in these places would scare a pig away,” Russell joked.

At the word bacon, a shrill startled-sounding noise was easily heard, but they still didn’t see any pigs.

The End.

White Pig ditry nose dreamstime_xxl_83059557

(Startled pigs from Dreamstime)

 

***

Here’s the requisite shameless self-promotion…

Pigs collection cover banner

The Glowing Pigs, Snort Stories of Atonement, Tennessee

Amazon UK

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.

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

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.

 

Marge Tipton — Characters from Atonement, TN (& a Cover Reveal)

Saturday, August 18, 2018

Marge at LOLAs

Marge Tipton at L.O.L.A. Lola’s

Welcome everyone.  You’ve entered my sanctuary.  Today we’re visiting Atonement, Tennessee.  I know it can be hard to find your way around in a fictional town.  So, let’s have lunch at the local diner, L.O.L.A. Lola’s.  I want you to meet the owner, Marge Tipton. 

Marge’s part in Atonement, Tennessee is quite small, but she comes back for book-2 with a somewhat bigger role.  I thought it would be fun for you to meet some of the residents of the quirky town.

Actually, I wrote this vignette a few years ago.  So while I try to finish the edits to Atonement in Bloom (I know you must be as tired of hearing me say that as I am of saying it but…) I’m giving you a rerun.  I hope you don’t mind.  This little slice of life was done in my “three things” style of pantser writing and I took the things from names of three blogs. Thanks to those folks for following me then and now!

Writer Christoph Fischer

No Facilities (Dan Antion)

Author Mary J. McCoy-Dressel ~ ~ Contemporary Western Romance

Writer, Facilities, Western

Cowgirl to the Rescue

Young Marge painting

Young Marge Tipton.  Dreamstime

The voice on the radio crackled as she drove through another area with poor reception.  The DJ counted down the top hits of 1974.  Marge pushed her big glasses back on the bridge of her nose and hoped she wouldn’t lose this channel before hearing a favorite song. The glasses were very similar to a pair she’d seen in a picture of Elton John.  She loved his flamboyance. 

You see, Marge Tipton wanted more than anything to be a wild child, an anti-establishment rebel. However, the truth was she just didn’t know how.  So she left her southeastern home and as her family put it, ran off out west.  She stopped running just after she crossed the Texas state line. Marge lived there for ten years. Then the post cards started coming.

The writer of the cards was her brother, Tracey. She didn’t know why her brother moved to the strange sounding Tennessee town a year before. It sounded like he didn’t have much choice in the matter. With each post card Tracey’s state of mind seemed to get worse. He was not pleased with his life there, yet he refused to leave. In his last missive Tracey begged his sister to come to Atonement, Tennessee.

1972 Chevy C10 Shortbed Stepside Pickup

Chevrolet 1972, C10 Shortbed Stepside Pickup

Marge was not happy about the situation.  She rebelled against anything she felt she was “supposed” to do.  She knew that everyone would judge her and say she should help her brother, regardless of whether he deserved it, or whether it ruined her own life. 

She adopted the cowgirl style that she would continue throughout her life.  Marge was perfectly satisfied in her western home.  However, she had a sense of duty that was every bit as strong as her wish to defy the establishment.   So cowgirl Marge got into her pickup truck, left Texas in her rear-view mirror, and headed to Tennessee.

The gas gauge in the truck steadily crept toward empty.  Just as Marge was getting worried she spotted a sign for a gas station.  At first she was relieved in more ways than one, but when she got closer, she saw the smaller sign below the oil company’s logo. “No facilities.”  Marge grumbled to herself. 

Maybe, if she was real polite, they’d let her use the employee restroom.

***

The End

***

Lolas inside diner

L.O.L.A. Lola’s

It wasn’t really a story, just a vignette, but now we have a backstory for a younger version of Marge Tipton.  She stayed in Atonement, TN with her brother and eventually opened “L.O.L.A. Lola’s Bar and Restaurant,” the diner frequented by my characters. 

Marge wasn’t there to “atone” after all, but her brother was.  However, as you’ll see next week, Deme and Honeybell might argue that point.  Meanwhile, Marge has her hands full with Atonement in Bloom.  There’s something about a bear, but I won’t say more. 

Do you have a story about a fuel gauge and the big “E” for empty?  Leave it in a comment if you do.  Thanks for visiting.  Great big hug!

 ***

Now a Reveal!

You know I’ve been trying to finish the editing and publishing work for book-2, Atonement in Bloom.  (My real job makes that difficult.)  Well, the thing is… There is a short story (many of you have seen it) that is a prequel to everything else in the “Atonement universe.”  Always one to make more work for myself… I’ve decided to do a double release.  Along with the sequel to Atonement, Tenneessee I will publish a collection of snort stories, which includes that prequel.  Here’s the cover.

Pigs collection cover banner

Snuffling your way soon.

Here’s the rest of the requisite shameless self-promotion…

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 © 2015 and 2018 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

No part of this book 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 from the public domain unless stated otherwise.