Hullaba Hodgepodge

Saturday, May 26 2018

Lulu purple sofa

Lulu inside Valentino’s train, by Rob Goldstein

Hello, one and all.  Come on into my sanctuary and have a seat with Lulu and me, because this post is kind of a hodgepodge. 

Today I begin with a respectful moment of silence in observance of the coming Memorial Day (USA)Sometimes called Decoration Day it is a federal holiday in the United States originally meant for remembering the people who died while serving in the country’s armed forces.

A revision — Happy Memorial Day 

I see people expressing disdain and contempt for those words — or at least for the word “happy.”  Yes, it is in truth a very somber holiday.  Yet, it is more…  When I was a child, I endured the death of a sibling.  So many people acted like I should never be happy again because of that death.  As a child I thought, felt they must be right. I did not smile. 

Now I realize that gratitude and respect for those who have passed does not preclude joy.  Would those who have been selfless want only your tears?  Or would they want their lives to be celebrated? So even though I usually wish you blessings or some other benediction that does not include “happy”… Today I wish you a happy Memorial Day.  (Comments are now closed.)

I appreciate you being part of my Get Caught Reading Month. Special thanks to Chris Graham – the Story Reading Ape for working with me on a two-part story for this year.  “Artie Meets the Alchemist” was a delight to co-write with everyone’s favorite Ape on Artie Meets the Alchemist.

Sarah Teri PolenYou’ve caught me reading one last book for this month. This time it’s Sarah, by the marvelous Teri Polen.  Teri writes exciting, suspenseful “young adult” stories.  This book is about a horror fan and a ghost and… Well, just hang onto your hat and keep the lights on!

She will publish another book this summer called The Gemini Connection.  You can also visit Teri at her blog, Books and Such.

Me?  I’m still in the edit/proof process with book-2 in my “Atonement” series, Atonement in Bloom.  I thought I might publish it this month, but… Well, as they used to say where I came from, “Mights (mites) grow on a chicken’s butt (well, that’s not the word they use, but you get the idea).  Anyhow, I cringe to think how long it’s been since I first said the book was “coming soon.” 

Huge thanks to those of you who have “gotten on the train” for my diesel-punk fantasy, Hullaba Lulu. 

Ghost train station with color

Art by Rob Goldstein

San Francisco artist Rob Goldstein makes wonderful virtual reality illustrations for the series.  Rob has also made several videos for the “Lulu-verse” — and in doing so, he has created a soundtrack for the series, filled with Roaring Twenties songs.  Here’s the one he made this week.  Rob talks about it in this post.

(You can see the entire collection of videos here.)

If you haven’t gotten on the train, you can catch up by clicking the Hullaba Lulu category on the right side of the page. You’ll meet Lulu, her Gramps, friends Rose and Pearl, and some other characters as they begin a journey with an enigmatic man who only calls himself Valentino.  Listen for the trumpet’s call and the conductor’s announcement, All aboard!   That’s here each week for Jazz Age Wednesdays.

I should also mention the Rolling Thunder. Bikers in droves from across the country gather here, partly to bring attention to soldiers missing in action. It’s a cool idea to have all those motorcycles, and it’s downright awe inspiring to see so many. Unfortunately to reach their destination many of them travel under an overpass 1/4 mile from my home.  So the “Rumble of the Rolling” is almost constant (if to a lesser degree than the gathering at the Capitol Mall) from Friday through Monday.  When significant portion of that group takes this route, it literally shakes the house.  Still an amazing thing though.

Thanks for taking time to visit.  I love your comments, so be sure to say hello.  If you are celebrating where you are, have a safe holiday weekend. 

You’re the cat’s pajamas!

***

Here’s my 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 © 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. 

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 ― Teri Polen, The Gemini Connection

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Anita Page sombrero 1920s

Anita Page, circa 1920

Welcome to Jazz Age Wednesdays.  It’s almost Saint Patrick’s Day, so I had to give you something green.  I hope you enjoyed Miss Page.  But wait a minute, I can’t hear myself think.  Horsefeathers! The characters are taking over this post…

Pip:  Hey Andy, have you seen this?  I know you love science fiction and get into some horror stories.

Andy:  Hi-ya, flapper.  What did you say?  Oh I see.  This post is a departure because Teagan couldn’t resist sharing author Teri Polen’s new cover reveal!  Applesauce, look at all that.  Shhh… I’m trying to read it.

Pip:  Move over, I can’t see.  Oooh that’s pos-i-lutely darb! 

Would you two get back in your corner of my brain, please?  Thank you.  Now, back to the point.  I’m “green with envy” because Teri Polen’s new book is so fantastic!  Here’s more about it in the author’s own words.

And now, presenting… 

The Gemini Connection

by Teri Polen

Paperback Release Date: May 31, 2018
E-book Release Date: June 7, 2018
Young Adult > Sci-Fi/Fantasy > Thriller

Teen twin brothers Evan and Simon Resnik are fiercely loyal to each other and share an unusual bond—they experience each other’s emotions as their own and can sense where the other is.

On their dying planet of Tage, scientists work tirelessly on its survival. Like the twins’ parents, Simon is a science prodigy, recruited at a young age to work with the brilliant creator of Scientific Innovations. To the bitter disappointment of their parents, Evan shows no aptitude or interest in science. As a Mindbender, he travels into the minds of scientists to locate buried memories, connect ideas and concepts, and battle recurring nightmares.

When Simon mysteriously disappears, Evan is plunged into a world of loss and unbearable guilt. For the first time, he can’t ‘feel’ Simon—it’s like he no longer exists. Evan blames himself. No one knows that he ignored his brother’s pleas for help on the night he went missing.

A year later, Simon is still gone. Evan lost his twin, but Tage might have lost its last hope of survival when it’s discovered that Simon’s unfinished project could be its salvation. Evan is determined to find him—somewhere—and bring Simon home. Their unusual connection might be more extraordinary than they know, and the key to locating Simon.

The Gemini Connection paperback is available for pre-order at the following locations:

Amazon
Barnes & Noble
And for a discount at Black Rose Writing

You can find Teri at the following locations:

Website / Twitter / Facebook / Instagram / Pinterest / Goodreads / Amazon

Pip:  Hey Sheiks and Shebas.  Just letting you know that Jazz Age Wednesdays, with yours truly will be back next week.  Thanks for visiting. You’re pos-i-lutely the cat’s meow!  

Sigh… that flapper just refuses to stay in her corner.  I have just one more thing to say, a reminder.

In case you missed it…

Last week I posted a request for your votes and feedback.  I want your input as I decide on what kind of blog serial to do after Thistledown — Midsummer Bedlam is finished.  It will be a “three things” style serial, with you sending three random things to drive the story.  So I want you, the reader to be evolved every step of the way.  If you missed that post you can vote for the type of serial you’d like and leave your thoughts here*.  Please do vote and/or comment.  It really helps my thought process.

Thanks for visiting.  You’re the bee’s knees!

PS:  Now here’s the requisite shameless self-promotion — the links to the books about 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.

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 17 ― Pip & Artie Meet Again – Part 1

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

1925 Theatre Magazine jade necklace jewelry

Happy New Year to you from Teagan’s Books and Jazz Age Wednesdays!  Yesterday I was crowing when I saw Teri Polen’s review of Murder at the Bijou – Three Ingredients 1 (see it here. What a keen way to start the year!

With these Roaring Twenties posts, we’ll be putting on the Ritz as we ring in 2018.  I have an extra special treat for you this week.  An email exchange spontaneously turned into a short story — and guess who my coauthor is!  The pos-i-lutely fabulous, Chris Graham, the Story Reading Ape! 

In case you didn’t know, the Story Reading Ape is also a great storyteller.  This short story furthers a encounter between Pip, and a character Chris created, Artie — one of the chimps from Chris’ imagination.  Chris begins the tale from Artie’s point of view, and then I take over with Pip telling it.  Now, let’s get a wriggle on and go back to the Jazz Age.

Pip and Artie Meet Again At New Year’s

Part 1

Artie was devastated, he’d worked sooo hard to get his time machine to finally go back beyond the time he’d invented it.  (See the backstory here.)

Artie Formal Dress

Image courtesy of Chris Graham

He’d even met his heroine, Paisley Idelle Peabody, otherwise known as Pip.  (See: Pip in the Corn Maze).

Unfortunately, because he’d been working on his machine for three days and nights without a break and only ended up in the corn maze where Pip was, by accidentally leaning against the start lever, his tiredness had overcome him and he’d fallen asleep in mid conversation!

Luckily however, he’d been woken by the preset Emergency Visit Duration Countdown alarm and had jumped back into the machine before it returned to his own time without him.

His only hope now, was that Pip had spotted, and picked up, the labradorite crystal pendant.  Artie had intended to give it to her, but he must have dropped it while he was ponderating.  In addition to the stone’s natural protective properties, it would act as a transponder, so he could find her again, otherwise, he’d end up back in the corn maze.

First things first though, he needed to sleep, then start on a lighter, more portable, version of his time machine, in case he had to travel overland from the maze to Granny Phanny‘s place.

Next time, he would be better prepared…

***

2018 Pip New Year

The Savannah folks who organized the corn maze at Halloween planned a New Year’s bonfire party at the same location.  As usual, Granny Phanny found extra chores for me.

“Pip, there’s no use in sulking around just because you don’t have a young man to escort you to the New Year’s Eve party.  I thought you were a modern woman,” Granny baited me.  “You can still get all dolled up and have a good time.”

I sputtered an indignant protest, but words failed me.  As if I was some cancelled stamp, a wallflower!

It wasn’t as if I had been in Savannah long enough to know many people.  Alastair Wong would be working at his family’s restaurant.  Detective Dabney Daniels barely knew I was alive.  I guess there was Hank… but I had been avoiding Hank Hertz for two weeks, because I was pretty sure he was going to ask me.  I couldn’t go with Hank, he was just a kid!  Why, he was nearly two whole years younger than me.

1920s Illustration of Party

“If it makes you feel any better there might not be a party at all,” Granny grumbled at me.

My grandmother sounded like she was fixing to get in a lather.  I had not considered that she might be looking forward to the bonfire party.  However, I got the impression that she was disappointed.  I looked a question at her.

“Everybody who has rheumatism says bad weather is coming.  And the arm I broke when I was a girl has been achy,” she complained.  “And Miss Olive says there’s a big storm headed our way right on New Year’s Eve,” She continued despite my skeptical expression.

“Granny, isn’t that just a bunch of superstition?” I dared ask.

Granny Phanny’s eyebrows climbed toward her hairline.  I knew I was on dangerous ground so I dried up then and there.

“Miss Olive is never wrong about the weather,” Granny told me in a dire tone.  “So, we need to go over to where we had the corn maze and see about setting up some tents.”

(Meet Miss Olive here.)

studebaker1920_2

A moment later we were in Granny’s Model-T, puttering down the dirt road.  The live oak trees seemed more like evergreens than regular oak trees, but their leaves were kind of sparse.  Granny Phanny murmured a word of thanks that somebody had filled in the big pothole we had to avoid last time.

Granny walked around muttering under her breath as she sought suitable spots for party tents.  I thought keeping some distance from her would be a good idea, so I wandered around in the other direction.  I recognized the spot where the corn maze used to be and went poking around.

Nervously I looked over my shoulder, remembering the strange thing that happened there.  I never told a soul about it, but I wrote it all in a journal.  Maybe one day I could tell my pal Andy about it.  He went to Hollywood, California.  His talent for writing imaginative stories finally paid off.  Andy probably wouldn’t believe me either, but he’d like the story.  (Here’s a little more about Andy from the Three Things Serial Story.)

You see, that night I met a talking chimp.  I would never forget his words…

“Pip, I promise you I’m the real McCoy, as you would say.  I’m Aristotle, but I hope you’ll call me Artie.  I’ve traveled a long way through time and space to meet you,” the chimp had explained.

Lost in that strange memory, I idly stuck the toe of my burgundy and cream oxfords into a clump of leaves and debris.  Something sparkled, pulling me out of my reverie.  I bent to uncover it and picked up a crystal.

It was greenish gray with flashes of color.  I didn’t know a lot about semiprecious gems, but I thought it was labradorite.  The stone depended from from a long chain.  I hung it around my neck and put it inside my dress.

End Part 1

***

Oh yes… to be continued.  Here’s a sort of hint.  It turns out Chris and I share an interest in gemstone lore.  Labradorite is said to be a stone of magic, a crystal of shamans, diviners, healers, and all who travel and embrace the universe seeking knowledge and guidance.

Sorry! That’s as much of a hint as I’m giving.  Tune in again next week for the conclusion.

It’s so darb that you visited today.  Once again — Happy New Year!

Flapper Happy New Year champagne red

Now, for that shameless self-promotion… Here are the links to the books about 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.

Copyright © 2017 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene and Christopher Graham

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 12: Hear-See-Speak No

Marketing Graphic for Thisledown

Friday, October 6, 2017 

Hello, everyone. I’m happy to see you here in Thistledown after my semi-break last weekend. Before we fly off to Thistledown, let’s take a stroll on the dark side…

Only at Teri Polen’s Books & Such

It’s already October — how did that happen?  My favorite holiday is Halloween.  Leading up to that fun day, author Teri Polen hosts Bad Moon Rising.  It’s her yearly celebration of suspense and horror.  Each year more than 30 horror/thriller indie authors are featured throughout the month of October on her blog, Books & Such

atonement-video-cover-copyEven though many could argue that my “Atonement” books are not thrillers (and they are certainly not horror), they are suspenseful and there is a graveyard…  But Teri thought they qualified.  So I’m participating for my second Bad Moon Rising on October 10th.

In honor of Bad Moon Rising, through October, I’ve priced the Kindle version of my debut novel Atonement, Tennessee at just $1.00. 

Now to the faery world of Thistledown…

In today’s episode, keep an eye out for the character Teri Polen named. 

About This Episode

While gazing through a special moonstone, the Thistledown healer, Lavender Cozy, predicted Bedlam’s friend, River Mindshadow, would be able to follow the shadows of the mind.  I can think of a few directions that gift might take the young faery.  You’ll have to look closely to see them, but figuratively speaking, this episode of my pantser serial has wispy shadows, foreshadowing, hints of the unknown (even to me) directions this tale will take.

Thistledown

Midsummer Bedlam 5

Glitter person blue h-heyerlein-199082

H. Heyerlein, Unsplash

Hear No-See No-Speak No

My fingers ran along silken strands of blue hair left by the muskoxen.  I braided it absently.  There was no entertainment for me except my school books.  The hummingbird carried a single long blue hair to me.  I thanked it graciously. 

“You really outshine me with your iridescent orange feathers,” I commented to the hummingbird.

Why not have a playful conversation with the hummingbird?  What self-respecting faery wouldn’t?  It clearly liked the attention.  The hummer’s elongated streamer-tail made a whirring sound as it hovered at eye-level.  The tiny bird gave several twittering chirps as if it understood my words.  Then it gave a light tug at the loose sleeve of my yellow dress.

“Oh no,” I replied.  “I’m glad you like it, but I look positively rumpled.  Nothing to compare with you.”

The tiny bird flew in amazing antics.  I couldn’t help giggling.  With the long orange tail streaming behind him, I was astonished to realize he flew in a spiral pattern.  I looked at the hummer curiously.  Looking at the spiral gave me goosebumps. 

“Strange,” I murmured to myself, but the bird began to twitter and chirp.  “Have you a name, little one?”

The hummingbird twittered excitedly.  Facing me, it flew up and down in a bobbing motion.  My brain ran through likely names for hummingbirds.

“Zippy?  I see, that’s not it.  Erm… how about Firespinner?” I asked, pleased with the idea.

However, the hummer made a disgruntled sounding tweet.  His tiny face looked impatient as he repeated the odd bobbing flight pattern.

“Bob?  Your name is Bob?” I exclaimed in epiphany.  “What an unusual name.”

With that, Bob the hummingbird zipped away.

Ruby-topaz_hummingbird_flying in Tobago

Ruby-topaz hummingbird in Tobago

Maybe that wasn’t his name after all, I thought.  I hope I didn’t offend him.

A moment later Bob reappeared, carrying a long strand of muskox hair.  However, it wasn’t from the blue muskoxen of Blossom Stargazer’s team.  This hair was purplish blue, a periwinkle color.

“Wherever did you find this?” I murmured.

Bob darted about ten feet away, but then turned to hover facing me.  He gave an impatient chirp, clearly meaning for me to go with him.

The light capelet of my yellow dress was pushed aside as I tentatively I unfurled my wings.  I examined the tear cautiously.  It was beginning to knit but even a short flight would reopen the tear.

I looked at Bob sadly and told him, “I’m sorry little one.  I can’t keep up.”

Bob zipped back to me and let go of the long periwinkle hair.  I caught it, and fidgeting I rolled it between my thumb and middle finger.

“Ouch!” I muttered as a static discharge from the hair shocked my hand.

Darting forward again, Bob turned to wait for me.  He was remarkably single-minded for a hummingbird.  Most of them were easily distracted, and given to literal flights of fancy that they might follow anywhere, distracted a dozen times before they found their way back home.

Another pop of static from the strand of muskox hair shocked my hand.  However, I hardly noticed because at the same moment a commotion began in the bushes.  A small carriage broke through the shrubbery.  Startled, Bob zipped away.

Sparkler hands be the spark

Unsplash

I’d know that carriage anywhere.  Scores of chipmunks happily running in large exercise wheels powered the carriage.  Although sometimes the chipmunks could get off course.  They appeared to have taken it upon themselves to take a shortcut.

A head full of sparkling lavender curls popped out of the window.  Glitter Shimmerling smiled and waved before jumping down from her carriageFleur Thistle followed her.

I hadn’t seen Fleur Thistle since I was suspended from school.  I always felt embarrassed whenever I saw someone I had not spoken to since that episode.  I fidgeted, trying to think of what to say.  However, my friend who also got expelled that day, River Mindshadow exited the vehicle behind Fleur, so I felt more relaxed.

“Thanks for the lift, Glitter.  Fleur, I appreciate your help at the Trumpet.  Be sure to tell Peaches and Pucker I said hello,” River told the others before turning to me.  “They were on their way to the orchard and offered to give me a ride.”

Fleur Thistle was one of the reporters for The Thistledown Trumpet newspaper.  I remembered how worried I had been that Calico Rainbowforrest, the managing editor would say something about my terrible vision in the newspaper.  However, my fears had been for nothing.  Calico was incredibly kind to me.  Because of that, I was not as tense in Fleur’s presence as I might have been otherwise.

But what could River have been doing at the Trumpet?

“Hi Bedlam,” Fleur and Glitter said in unison.

“I’d better see to the carriage before we go though,” Glitter stated as she inspected her vehicle.

Fleur pointed at chipmunks trying to count them, and then started over.  Twice.

“Bedlam,” Fleur began with a smile, but shook her head as she bent toward the carriage wheels.  “Could you help count the chipmunks?  They won’t be still.  Someone needs to check my counting.”

“Yes, we must have picked up some extras.  I’m sorry to crash through the bushes like this,” Glitter began.  “Chipmunks love the carriage wheels so much.  To them they are fun exercise wheels.  Sometimes random chipmunks jump aboard while I’m traveling and it gets the carriage off balance, making it a little hard to control.”

However, there was no counting, as the chipmunks collectively seemed to choose that moment for a play break.  They scurried all around the area where the bonfire had been the night before.  A quartet of them ran across Fleur’s feet and she fluttered off the ground reflexively.

My eyes followed the playful chipmunks.  Uncle seemed to think any kind of fun was outside the scope of the “rest” I was supposed to get.  Everyone knew I was grounded.

River seemed to follow my thoughts.  She nudged Fleur and Glitter, and then she covered her eyes.

“I know you’re still grounded, Bedlam ― in more ways than one.  But we don’t see or hear a thing,” River promised with a grin.

“That’s right!” Fleur added, covering her mouth.  “I won’t tell a soul.”

“What?  Did somebody say something?” Glitter joked, covering her ears.

Hear See Speak No Evil Robbie C

Photo by Robbie Cheadle

(Robbie’s post https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/2017/09/14/my-thoughts-on-indie-books/)

***

When the chipmunk powered carriage pulled away, River turned to me with a gleam in her eyes. 

“We need to dig something up – literally,” she told me.  “There’s a very old vine of the Trumpet not far from here.  Remember that while news stories come out on curled leaves from the vine, there are archives of articles stored in the roots.”

I remembered Calico Rainbowforest saying as much.  However, I wasn’t following River’s thought pattern.

“But why?” I wanted to know.

“Bedlam, you never mention anything from when you were little.  I don’t think you remember that part of your life.  Haven’t you ever wondered why you don’t remember anything from when you were very small?” 

“Not really.  A lot of people don’t remember when they were little children,” I told River.

River Mindshadow gazed at me doubtfully.  I remembered Lavender Cozy, the healer, saying that my friend would be able to “follow the shadows within the mind.”  I wondered aloud what River was thinking.

“I’m not sure myself,” River admitted and she fluttered from side to side, the equivalent of pacing. “I know everyone thought it was part of the show when that woman rode out of your grand-uncle’s bonfire.  But I figured she was from the place you went to, where no one wears colors.  You said there was a girl like me, and like Meadow Songbird* and Luminous Twinkle* as well.  So, there should be someone in Thistledown who looks like Fallow Blackmoon, don’t you think?  Fleur let me look through the images at the Trumpet office, but I didn’t find anything that looked like her.  I want to know if people have ever disappeared from Thistledown.”

Her words made me more nervous than they should have. Just thinking of the stunning appearance and disappearance of Fallow Blackmoon, was enough to make me uneasy. 

“I’ve never heard of anyone disappearing from Thistledown.  People just don’t do that,” I told her.  “Why would you think of that in the first place?”

“The things you’ve said about that other faery-verse,” River began.  “Everybody seems to have a counterpart, a double.  However, you didn’t have a doppelganger when you went there.  You’re a seer.  Then Fallow Blackmoon came here, and told you that she was a seer.  And she has no double here!”

With a gasp I told my friend, “Field Yewwasp said she looked familiar!  Do you think Fallow Blackmoon actually came from Thistledown, yet somehow became part of the colorless faery-verse?”

In a restless gesture, River flicked her wings.  Then she shrugged.

“You said faeries there didn’t seem to have wings.  What if the other faery-verse doesn’t have seers either?  At least not without them going there from somewhere else… like here,” River tried to explain her thoughts.

With unexpected anxiety, I fiddled with the long strand of periwinkle colored muskox hair that Bob the hummingbird brought me.  It emitted a bigger discharge of static electricity than before.  I cried out as is shocked me.

River gasped.  The strand of purplish hair extended straight out, as if pulled forward.  It was almost like something that had been magnetized by a hematite stone.  It sizzled with static and pointed like a divining rod.

Purple sparkles billy-huynh-278252

Billy Huynh, Unsplash

“It looks like you two should go where that electrified hair leads.”

We both turned, startled.  It was Fleur Thistle.  A chipmunk perched on each of her shoulders and several more danced around her feet.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.  Some of the chipmunks got lost so Glitter and I came back to look for them.  She went in the opposite direction as me,” Fleur explained and then nodded at the periwinkle colored hair.  “That’s too magical of a message to be ignored.  Besides, a hummingbird brought it to you!  You have to listen to it.  I’ll dig up the Trumpet archives.  Sorry ― I couldn’t help overhearing.”

“But Fleur, you could lose your job for doing that!” River objected.

“I doubt anyone will care.  Besides, I’m expected to do some ‘research’ every week,” Fleur added just as the hair gave me another stinging pop of static.  “It seems impatient.  You should probably get going.  I’ll let you know if I learn anything about missing folks.”

The periwinkle muskox hair popped and sizzled. 

***

The End

Please note: I’m compelled to state this because this has happened every time I bring my hamsters into the story.

 Every creature and thing in this serial (and in all my writing) is strictly the product of my imagination, and has nothing to do with any other writer or blog. As with the sheep, hummingbirds, muskoxen and every other creature hamsters portrayed here are the product of my imagination.  The carriage driving rodents in Thistledown are hamsters — not dudes or “hamstas,” or any other name used in the work of any other writer. None of the characters in this serial are affiliated with any other blog, including the rodents.  To avoid any additional confusion, hamsters of any kind will make no further appearances in this serial.

We were happy to see many old friends this time.  However, only one new person among the mystery folk was revealed in this episode:

You have met the “scary faery” counterparts of two more mystery folk, but not the Thistledown characters:

Maybe you can visit all of them.  I look forward to seeing you next weekend, here in Thistledown. 

Until then, hugs on the wing!

 

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 © 2017 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.

Every creature and thing in this serial (and in all my writing) is strictly the product of my imagination, and has nothing to do with any other writer or blog. As with the sheep, hummingbirds, muskoxen and every other creature hamsters portrayed here are the product of my imagination.  The carriage driving rodents in Thistledown are hamsters — not dudes or “hamstas,” or any other name used in the work of any other writer. None of the characters in this serial are affiliated with any other blog, including the rodents.  To avoid any additional confusion, hamsters of any kind will make no further appearances in this serial.