Redeeming The Billionaire by Christina Tetreault

Hello Everyone,

Welcome my friend and author, Christina Tetreault today.   She has a new release coming up in September.

 

Author Bio:

I started writing at the age of 10 on my grandmother's manual typewriter and never stopped. When I am not driving my 3 daughters (ages 7, 5, and 5) around to their various activities or chasing around our two dogs, I am working on a story or reading a romance novel. I just finished Redeeming The Billionaire book 5 in the Sherbrookes of Newport series, and I have started book 2 in my new series Love On The North Shore. You can visit my website www.christinatetreault.com or follow me on Facebook to learn more about my characters and to track my progress on my current writing projects.

 

Author Links:

Website:  www.christinatetreault.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinatetreaultauthor

Twitter: @cgricci

 

Sexy!

Blurb:

Billionaire Trent Sherbrooke works hard and plays harder. He’s never once cared what the media or society says about him, until now.  Intent on making his way into the United States Senate, Trent hires campaign advisor Marty Phillips. A ruthless force in politics he’ll stop at nothing to get his candidate elected.

After a chance encounter throws local small business owner Addison Raimono in Trent’s path, Marty believes he’s found Trent’s ticket into Washington.

Ignoring his conscience that insists he leave Addison alone, Trent sets out to win her over. Soon what he assumed would be a relationship to salvage his reputation turns into so much more. But can a relationship started on a lie ever survive?

Link to book trailer:

http://youtu.be/XPnAF-kn_Co

Available at iTunes for pre-order now: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/redeeming-the-billionaire/id901943859?mt=11

Available everywhere in September

Excerpt:

Marty folded up the sleeves of his shirt. “It’s all a matter of importance. The who doesn’t matter. The wonderful opportunity it presents does. Now, I need to know everything. How did you meet her? How long have you known her? Have you slept with her yet?”

Trent pinched the bridge of his nose. Christ, couldn’t he have a cup of coffee with a woman without someone assuming he’d slept with her? “I met her just before we met last week. I bumped into her on the sidewalk and spilled coffee on her. When this picture was taken I had stopped in the bakery and when I saw her again I said hello. We talked for a few minutes before she left.”

As Marty chewed he jotted notes down on a legal pad. “That’s it? You didn’t ask her out to dinner? Get her phone number?”

Did the man think he asked out every attractive female he met? “More or less.”

Marty looked up at him. “More or less, I need to know everything. And when I say everything, I mean it.”

“I told her I wanted this office redecorated and asked if she might be interested. Shirley called and set up an appointment with her.” After giving Shirley the instructions, he hadn’t thought anymore about it.

“Excellent. When?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar.”

Marty tapped his pen against his pad several times before he spoke. “We might have to change our time table a little, but I’d like to keep to it if possible. A wedding at the end of next summer is ideal. That would give you a solid year of marriage before the actual election.”

Caution flags jumped up as he listened to Marty. The advisor’s original plan had been acceptable. A marriage to a wealthy socialite who viewed their relationship as a way to achieve her own goals was one thing. What Marty proposed now was entirely something else.

“Perhaps we should stick with what we originally discussed. Why don’t I go through these and pick a candidate.” Trent reached for the binders Marty had put together. “Then they’ll be no need to adjust our timeline.”

“You hired me because you want to win.” Marty pointed his pen at the picture of Addison. “She’s your ticket to the Senate.”

Trent’s eyes focused on the picture. What had she just said to him when the picture was taken? It must have been funny because he had a huge smile on his face. Come to think of it, he’d smiled through much of their conversation. She’d had an easygoing nature with a great sense of humor. There had been no awkward moments or long gaps of silence. Under different circumstances he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.

“The women in here may help repair your reputation.” Marty pointed to the binders he’d put together of potential wife candidates. “This one though will win the hearts of voters.” He nodded toward the newspaper on the table. “I don’t understand the problem. She’s beautiful and well-educated.”

Marty had him there. Addison was attractive and, from all he could tell, intelligent. Even with that knowledge, a corner of his conscience prickled at the idea.

Across the table Marty popped a pickle in his mouth and chewed as he waited. “If it helps look at it this way. Her involvement with you will put her business on the fast track. The whole thing will still more or less be a business agreement.”

Trent nodded. Marty had a point. If he and Addison became romantically involved it would do more for her business than an ad during the Super Bowl.

“If you’re going to make it in politics you need to learn to do what’s right for your career, everything else comes second. Trust me, I’ve been around long enough to know that few politicians make it with their conscience intact.” Marty pushed the paper closer to him. “So what’s it going to be?”

Addison’s face beamed up at him. “We’ll try it your way, but if it’s not working we will fall back to our original plan.” Sure, they’d had an enjoyable conversation over coffee but he was not prepared to wager the rest of his life on that. He picked up his untouched sandwich. “I’m assuming you made sure she’s not involved with anyone.”

The look Marty gave him said it all. “Unless she’s got a secret lover tucked in her closet, she’s single and has been for over a year.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know how things go. But in the meantime, keep working on who leaked this picture.”

Be sure to visit, Christina's website at www.christinatetreault.com

Does Technology Drive You A Bit Crazy?

Hi Everyone,

Most writers just want to write, but they have to do many other things as well.  One thing I hate to take the time to do is learn new technology.  Geez!  Can't they just leave things like they are and stop trying to improve stuff. 

Some of you may know my computer crashed a few weeks ago due to a storm in our area.  I had to buy a new computer, of course, my husband had been telling me for two years I needed a new one. I'm digressing (blame it on Kari, I read her blogs), so to get back on track my new computer required me to learn Microsoft 8.1.  My question is what was wrong with Microsoft 7?  I loved Microsoft 7.  Wah!

Okay, I'm going to be honest and say it's not as difficult as I'm making it out, but it is irritating to have your computer crash and buy a new one to find out everything you are familiar with isn't on the new one.  I'm irritated because I have spent too much time learning new technology instead of writing.  If Microsoft is going to change everything; why don't they provide a manual, so I don't have to learn by experimenting.  All right, if I had a smart phone, or at least knew how to use one I would have figured some of this stuff out faster. 

One of the big things that irritated me is copying stuff and trying to paste into my old word processor, which I love (2003).  I finally figured I have to copy and paste into notepad, and then I can paste into my Word.  However, that isn't exactly easy either because wherever I'm copying from I have to right click to copy and then go to notepad and right click to paste.  I right click again in notepad, go to Word and go to edit to paste.  Simple, right?  Yes it is, if you knew that was how it's done in the first place.  Okay, I will admit after many tries Microsoft finally popped up and gave me the solution.  Why didn't they give it to me the first time?

Another thing I don't like that Microsoft has done is they have changed Windows Mail, but I'm sure some people like it even better, but I'm not one of them.  Microsoft wants you to have a password for every app you use.  I have three pages of passwords already, please give me a break.  Oh, I know it is for my own safety.  Grrr!  It just doesn't make me like it.  Frankly, I could have done without most of those apps, but everything has an app these days. 

Not only have I learned Microsoft 8.1, but I have returned to Twitter after a 5 year absence when I got hacked there.  I still don't know what I'm doing on that site, but if you would like follow me there just look for #AuthSKMarshall. 

There is one technical little site that I'm loving.  It's called Hootsuite, and the reason I like it so much is because I can use it to send message to all my social media sites at the same time without going to those sites.  Yay, I don't have to go to Facebook, Twitter, Ning, Yahoo Groups, LinkedIn and Google+ to promo or post anything because I can do it on Hootsuite.  Is that wonderful?  Yes!

Learning anything takes time, but I'm doing it.  I just need more time in a day.  One more thing, don't get too comfortable with 8.1 because I hear 9 is coming.  Grin!  Doesn't that just make your day?

Moving on to some promo.  Something else, I don't like to do, but has to be done.  My short story, All Bets Are Off, came out in audio during this mess.  Here is the link for it if you prefer to listen to your stories rather than read them. 

http://www.amazon.com/All-Bets-Are-Off/dp/B00LU1M6NC/ref=tmm_aud_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1405894139&sr=8-1

BLURB:

Can a recovering gambling addict bet on a second chance at love?

Ana Torres has dug her self out of her gambling debts and started a business to help others with the same problem.  Now, she wants to show her soul mate she has changed and win him back. 

Jason Gibbs meets his wife at a party and realizes he still loves her even after all she cost him with her gambling addiction.  He wants to find out if she has changed, and if she has, he will woo her back. 
 

Amazon Kindle Link: http://www.amazon.com/All-Bets-Are-Sandra-Marshall-ebook/dp/B00LETFUZG/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1405894139&sr=8-1

I hope you like my new blog template, and if you go to my website it's in chaos right now, as I'm going to change it, too.  Thank you for listening to me today, and if you have any helpful suggestions, or if you have a rant of your own I'm willing to listen.  Smile!

Have a great week, and I'll see you next Sunday! 

Sandra K. Marshall, Author

@ Eirelander Publishing,
http://www.eirelanderpublishing.com
http://www.skaymarshall.com

Lady Justice and the Pharaoh's Curse by Robert Thornhill

Hi Everyone,

Welcome local Kansas City area author, Robert Thornhill.  This prolific author has another great book released titled Lady Justice and the Pharaoh's Curse.  I have read the excerpt and this book sounds very intriguing, especially, as I've seen the King Tut exhibit in Cairo and, also, at the exhibit in Kansas City.

An artifact is stolen from the King Tut exhibit, setting in motion a string of bizarre murders that baffle the Kansas City Police Department
            A local author simultaneously releases his novel, The Curse of the Pharaohs, attributing the deaths to an ancient prophesy, ‘Death shall come on swift wings to him who disturbs the peace of the King.’

            Are the deaths the result of an ancient curse or modern day mayhem?

            Follow the clues with Walt and decide for yourself!

PROLOGUE

 

Valley of the Kings

 

Egypt

1323 B C

            Imhotep, a high priest in the court of Tutankhamun, Pharaoh of Egypt, took one last look at the vault that held the sarcophagus of his beloved boy king.
            His craftsmen had spent months preparing the body of the king and the vessels that contained his vital organs, so that the Pharaoh could pass freely from this mortal life to the next.
            His last remaining task was to seal the tomb with its gold and precious stones, and conceal it from the marauders, raiders and looters that roamed the desert hills.
            He stood before the Anubis, the jackel-headed god that had been the protector and guardian of the pharaoh’s tombs for centuries.
            Between the jackal’s paws, he placed a stone tablet inscribed with the words, “Death shall come on swift wings to him who disturbs the peace of the King.”
            The Anubis stood guard in the dark tomb for more than three thousand years. Then one day, the tomb was opened -----

Lady Justice and the Pharaoh’s Curse

Kansas City, Missouri

2014

CHAPTER 1

           
            Bernard Maloof pulled the dog-eared journal from under his mattress and carried it to the small dinette table in the kitchen.
            Although he had read the journal dozens of times, he needed to read it one more time to reinforce the decision he was about to make. He knew that if he acted on the information he had found there, his life would be forever changed. There would be no turning back.
            He took a moment to reflect on the events of the past year that had delivered the journal into his possession.
            Bernie was just an ordinary guy living an ordinary life.
            His parents had been killed in an auto accident. He was the sole beneficiary of a small life insurance policy and had used the money to enroll in the Metropolitan Junior College. After a year, the money ran out. He dropped out of school and found a job working on a custodial crew that cleaned office buildings at night.
            The job paid enough to keep a roof over his head and food on the table, but little else.
            Then one day, he received the call that would change the course of his life. It was from an attorney in Cleveland, Ohio. His uncle, Nasser Maloof, had passed away. Bernie, his only living relative, had been named executor of the estate. Nasser’s will had also designated him as the beneficiary. The call was to see if Bernie was available to come to Cleveland to settle his uncle’s affairs.
            Bernie knew very little about his uncle other than that he was a skilled craftsman and artisan. In 2003, Nassar had been contacted by Dr. Mostafa El-Ezaby, one of the most prestigious sculptors in Cairo, Egypt. Dr. El-Ezaby was putting together a team of craftsmen whose task would be to replicate the vast collection of treasures discovered in the tomb of King Tutankhamun by Howard Carter in 1922. Since the original treasures were no longer permitted to leave Egypt, the goal was to replicate a thousand of the most significant artifacts from the collection which would be presented on a world tour. Nasser Maloof had been invited to become a member of the team.
            The timing could not have been worse. Nasser’s wife, Anat, was too ill to make the journey to Egypt. Realizing that this was a great honor for her husband, Anat encouraged him to go and moved into a private nursing facility.
            The decision enraged Bernie’s father, Rashidi, who believed that family was more important than prestige. Nasser had been gone for almost a year when Anat passed away --- alone. Rashidi had not spoken to his brother from that day until he perished in the auto accident.
            Bernie took a leave of absence from his job and headed to Cleveland hoping that his uncle’s estate would put him back on his feet financially so that he could continue his schooling. He couldn’t have been more mistaken.
            Without insurance, the monthly fees for the nursing facility soon drained their meager savings account. Nasser mortgaged their home so that Anat could get the care she needed.
            Instead of a tidy nest egg, Bernie found a stack of unpaid bills and a house mortgaged to the hilt. When it was all said and done, Bernie had just enough money for gas back to Kansas City.
            Two days before his departure, he had been boxing up clothing, dishes and other household items for the Salvation Army. That’s when he found a metal canister in the back of the closet.  The journal, which he had just opened on his dinette table, was tucked away in the canister.
            Weary from his labors, he had taken a break to examine the journal. It appeared to be a diary of sorts, a day-by-day account of Nasser’s work replicating the artifacts from King Tut’s tomb. Much of the narrative was of a technical nature and beyond Bernie’s comprehension. He was soon bored with the technical stuff, but he kept reading because interspersed were Nasser’s personal feelings about how the work was progressing. Nasser was quite articulate and as Bernie read, he found himself fascinated by this family member he barely knew.
            The early entries were positive and optimistic, but as time went on, Bernie could sense a change in the tone of the entries. Although Nasser loved the work he was doing, it was obvious that he was missing his home and burdened with guilt having left his wife in her time of need.
            Nasser’s entry about the death of his wife brought tears to Bernie’s eyes. The anguish and remorse that Nasser felt was heartbreaking.
            It was at that point that the tone of the entries changed again, from somber and reflective to bitter and vengeful. He now saw his work as the culprit in his financial demise and the abandonment of his family.
            Following the account of his wife’s death, the entries in the journal were no longer about an artisan proud of his work, but about a clever plot to exact revenge on the entity that had ruined his life.
            Bernie had deduced that his uncle’s work involved taking epoxy resins, plaster, and original materials such as wood, stone, and gold leaf to make the replicas, instead of using the solid gold and precious stones of Tutankhamun's day. Nevertheless, over 5,000 original artifacts were at his fingertips on a daily basis as models for the replicas.
            Bernie read with fascination his uncle’s account of his final task on the team --- the replication of Anubis, the protector of Tutankhamun’s tomb.
            One entry read, “The statue of the Anubis, depicted completely in animal form was attached to the roof of the shrine. The jackal lying on the shrine is made from wood, covered with black paint. The insides of the ears, the eyebrows and the rims of the eyes of the reclining animal are worked in gold leaf as well as the collar and the band knotted around the neck. The whites of the eyes are made from calcite and the pupils from obsidian. The claws are in silver, which was more valuable than gold in Ancient Egypt.
            “I shall replicate the Anubis in every detail with one exception, the belly of the beast shall be hollowed out to accommodate the gold and precious stones which I will take from various artifacts over a period of time. Given the vastness and the age of the collection, the purloined items will never be missed.”
            The remaining entries in the journal detailed the items that Nasser had removed from the original artifacts, an emerald here, a ruby there, a bit of gold or silver from somewhere else. Everything was hidden in the hollowed belly of the Anubis and finally sealed.
            The last entry in the journal read, “My task is complete. While no amount of riches can bring back my beloved Anat or assuage the torment that I feel, I have, at the very least, struck a blow against the ghost that pulled me away from my family. These riches from the pharaoh’s tomb shall remain hidden until such time as I or a member of my family can claim them.”
            Bernie was dumbfounded. If what he had just read was true, and he had no reason to believe it wasn’t, somewhere out there was an artifact filled with gold, silver and precious stones and he was the only person in the world that knew of its existence.
            During the long drive back to Kansas City, he replayed the journal entries over and over in his mind.
            What his uncle had done reminded him of the old Johnny Cash song, One Piece at a Time. It was about a guy that worked on the assembly line at General Motors building Cadillac’s. The guy had always wanted one but knew he couldn’t afford one, so he devised a plan to steal one piece at a time over a period of years.
            One verse said, “I’ve never considered myself a thief, but GM wouldn’t miss just one little piece, especially if I strung it out over several years.”
            In the end he put all the parts together from 1949 to 1970 and had one “Psyco-Billy Cadillac!”
            Bernie couldn’t wait to get home and research the tour which had been named,

The Discovery of King Tut

His Tomb * His Treasures

The Breathtaking Recreation

 

             He was delighted to discover that the traveling exhibit was to be at Union Station in Kansas City in the near future.
            He had to get close to that exhibit and he figured out just the way to do it.
            Once back home, he made several trips to Union Station and discovered that many of the exhibits were manned by volunteers. He went to the Union Station website and clicked on the tab, ‘Volunteers.’ He read about becoming part of the team and clicked on the tab, ‘Click here to join now.’
            His night job with the cleaning company gave him his days free to volunteer at Union Station.
            That was three months ago. Since then, he had become a regular, spending every free minute volunteering and sucking up to the guy in charge. It had paid dividends. He had been assigned to the King Tut exhibit.
            He had helped unload the crates from the tractor-trailer rigs, helped clean the massive rooms that would house the exhibit and even gotten to help assemble the exhibit before opening day.
            He vividly remembered seeing the Anubis for the first time. It was everything he expected. It was beautiful. It was breathtaking. It was ferocious. It had been created by his uncle and as he stood there looking into the obsidian eyes, he knew that inside the black belly was a treasure that would soon be his.

Buy link:  http://www.amazon.com/Justice-Pharaohs-Curse-Robert-Thornhill-ebook/dp/B00KMYAFP4/ref=la_B002USLVZI_1_30_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1406158362&sr=1-30

Pharaoh's Curse has been downloaded over 44,000 times in the last four days and on Tuesday it was #1 in Amazon's 'Cozy Mystery' and 'Humor' categories, and #2 in Amazon's 'Top 100'.

Award-winning author, Robert Thornhill, began writing at the age of sixty-six and in five short years has penned seventeen novels in the Lady Justice mystery/comedy series, the seven volume Rainbow Road series of chapter books for children, a cookbook and a mini-autobiography.

Lady Justice and the Sting, Lady Justice and Dr. Death, Lady Justice and the Vigilante, Lady Justice and the Candidate, Lady Justice and the Book Club Murders, Lady Justice and the Cruise Ship Murders and Lady Justice and the Vet won the Pinnacle Award for the best new mystery novels of Fall 2011, Winter 2012, Summer 2012, Fall 2012, Spring of 2013, Summer 2013 and Spring of 2014 from the National Association of Book Entrepreneurs.

 Many of Walt’s adventures in the Lady Justice series are anecdotal and based on Robert’s real life.

Although Robert holds a master’s in psychology, he has never taken a course in writing and has never learned to type. All 28 of his published books were typed with one finger and a thumb!

His wit and insight come from his varied occupations, including thirty-three years as a real estate broker. He lives with his wife, Peg, in Independence, Missouri.

Visit him on the Web at: http://BooksByBob.com

Thank you for welcoming Bob to my site, and I hope all of you enjoy his books.  See you next Sunday.  Have a great week.

Sandra K. Marshall
http://www.skaymarshall.com

Tone of Voice

Your tone of voice can convey so much; for instance a soft voice can show sweetness or even timidity, a strong confident voice can show strength, a loud voice may show anger and a deep voice can sound gruff.

Author's need to use all kinds of voices for their characters, or they'll sound alike.  We have to differentiate our characters from one another and this requires giving each one of them personality traits.  Their tone of voice is just one portion of developing our character, but a very important part. 

Many of us know or have met someone with a deep voice who sounds gruff.  They can be abrupt to the point of rudeness, but the ones I've known have had hearts of gold.  You probably know people who talk so softly you have to ask them to repeat (sometimes people talk fast, and you have to ask them to repeat) themselves.  I have them in my family, and one of them thinks you should listen so you can hear her.  lol

People who have a strong even tone are confident; they enunciate clearly and no one has a problem hearing and understanding them.  There are people who speak loud, and it can be because they are angry, but it can be they are hard of hearing, or just their natural tone of voice. 

All of these things are great to use for your characters and should be worked into their personalities when you develop their profiles. 

Thank you for reading.  Have a great week, and I'll see you next Sunday. 

Sandra K. Marshall, Author @

Eirelander Publishing
http://www.eirelander-publishing.com
http://www.skaymarshall.com

Is The Monuments Men Movie an Actual Account of Events?

For historical value this movie doesn't portray the actual events, but what it does is bring to light that historical pieces of art were stolen by the Nazis from their rightful owners during WWII.  It lets us know that a young woman kept track of the paintings and sculptures and who the owners were - this is true and this is why I liked this movie. 

The Monuments Men movie has drawn attention to something that happened during WWII that most people didn't know about.  There were actual people involved (many more than depicted in the movie) in going to Europe to save historical buildings (saving the art was not the job they were sent to do, but a by-product).

The names of some of the characters in the movie were changed from the actual figures that were involved.  There were also some characters added who didn't participate in saving the buildings.

Here are some things I do know and didn't know before is that the Madonna of Bruges sculpture by Michelangelo and the Ghent Altapiece by Flemish artist, Jan Van Eyck's were recovered from the Altaussee mines in Austria.  Works by da Vinci, Rembrandt and Vermeer were recovered and 5 million stolen items were eventually returned to their owners.  However, thousands more and even millions more still have not been found.

Madonna of Bruges



Ghent Altapiece by Flemish artist Jan Van Eyck's

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                     

 

 

 

 Below are sites where you can find factual information about this enterprise:

 

http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2014/02/10/the_monuments_men_true_story_fact_checking_the_george_clooney_matt_damon.html and http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2559571/George-Clooney-opens-new-film-The-Monuments-Men.html

Also, read The Monuments Men:  Allied Heroes by Robert M. Edsel, which was used to help write the screen script for the movie.

I'm not a movie critic, and I'm not going to slam a movie for taking liberties with the facts.  After all, they are in the business of movie making and want to sell tickets.  I enjoyed the movie, and I was glad to be made aware of some of the things going on near the end of the war having nothing to do with war.  These people were still in danger and two did die, and maybe even more we don't know about. 

Seeing the movie will not hurt anyone, unless they believe it's totally factual, but I still believe people should see it. After seeing it I recommend reading the book by Edsel and the sites above for the facts. 

Happy President's Day!  See you next Sunday!

Sandra K. Marshall

http://www.skaymarshall.com
https://www.facebook.com/sandra.marshall.98
http://www.amazon.com/author/sandramarshall  

The Last Blog Tour

Hi Everyone,

This is my last blog tour for the year, and then I'm taking a break, so I can do edits. 

Never again will I do a blog tour in December.  I'm telling you, I have learned my lesson.  I'm so far behind trying to get ready for Christmas.  I'm kind of in a bah humbug mood.  After the twenty-first of December I'll have some freedom again. 

This blog tour is going to be for the third book, The Deceived, in my Riverboat Mysteries trilogy. 

Blurb:

The games they play can lead them to love or ruin.

 

Melanie Dubois detests her family’s casino business. The way this addiction destroys people has her on a tear of magnificent proportions. Then again, this young lady has been put through a train wreck of her own design. She distrusts everybody except for the people who are determined to use Melanie as a poster-child for zealots.

 

Mike Mercer has spent nearly a year in a deep cover mission for the FBI. The one fly in the ointment of completing his objective to take down a group of dangerous anti-gambling zealots is a fiery-tempered, blonde-haired woman named Melanie DuBois. Worse than that, she’s got a passion brewing just beneath the surface that’s an even deadlier attraction.

 

Fighting for your life is never easy when the odds are stacked against you.

 

Excerpt:

 

Dressed for the day in pale blue sweats, Mel stood in the drab, dark kitchen of Janet Batten’s house and debated what to do. The growl of her stomach made the decision for her, she’d fix breakfast. She switched on the light over the sink, and reached into a lower cabinet for a couple of skillets. She poured olive oil in one pan and went to the freezer for sausage to put in the other one. Slowly, she drew ingredients from the refrigerator and placed them on the butcher block counter before she went to the pantry for potatoes and onions.

     Early morning was her favorite part of the day, it was quiet and no one was around.

     Why was she being left out of everything this group was doing? After being here for a month, she was still being treated like an outsider. It was almost like she was still at home. Why wouldn’t they let her help? She’d been picketing, but she knew there was more going on than just that.

     Did they consider her a part of the establishment they were trying to destroy? True, she would inherit a portion of the Odyssey Casinos, but she didn’t want any part of the company. Why should she when her family treated her like a wicked stepchild? If that was the problem, she’d tell Janet that she would sell her part and use the money to help those who were addicted to gambling.

     She didn’t want to belong to an industry that destroyed anyone, or their livelihoods. She’d led a privileged life on the backs of losers, living in a huge home, going to private schools and college because of them.

     Thinking of the Odysseys’ always made her think of her family. Her relationship with them had been rocky for many years. Even so, she loved her sister, Jolene, and they’d been great friends when they were younger. After her sister was saved from the monster who’d kidnapped her, Mel had wanted to go see her, but didn’t want to risk being forced to leave this group by her mother and stepfather.

     Absorbed in her thoughts, knife in hand chopping onions vigorously, she didn’t hear anyone come into the kitchen. A large shadow appeared on the wall in front of her, Mel swung around with the knife pointed at the person’s chest.

     Recognizing Janet, her heart still pounding, she lowered the sharp edge. "You scared me to death."

   "I’m sorry I frightened you," Janet said, stepping back. "You must’ve been in deep thought because I said, ‘Good Morning’ when I first walked in."

     "I was thinking about how I don’t feel included in your plans. It feels like home. I was always an outsider there, too."

     The older woman wrapped the younger one in her arms.

"We didn’t mean to do that, Melanie. You should’ve told me sooner how you felt," Janet said, releasing her and gazing into the girl’s blue eyes. "We want you to feel wanted and comfortable in your new home."

      "Then why can’t I do something besides picket?" Janet probably thought she sounded like a big crybaby. She turned away to keep busy as she waited for the answer, she scrapped the ingredients from the cutting board into the skillet.

     "It looks like you’re doing something besides picketing. Do you have enough for everyone?"

     Mel glanced at Janet and caught a smile on her face. "I’ve got enough for a small army, but you know I didn’t mean this." She poured in the scrambled eggs and put bread in the toaster.

     Janet walked to the fridge drawing out butter and milk to place on the table. "After breakfast we’re having a meeting, and it would be helpful for you to tell your family’s story," and then casually asked, "Would you be willing to do that?"

     "Sure, I want to." That was an understatement; she couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the evils of gambling. Yeah, she’d gladly let them know what the casinos had done to her dad. Janet had promised her when she came here she would become involved with major activities and maybe this was the start.

     Janet stopped beside her, caressing the top of Melanie’s head. "It’ll go a long way to help alleviate the others distrust of you."

     "Thanks for the opportunity to explain myself." So that’s the reason she hadn’t been able to get close to any of these people except Janet. Well hell, if that’s why they were ignoring her, she’d spell it out why she was here.

     "I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you."

     "Thanks," Mel murmured, as she darted a glance at the salt and pepper-haired woman while Janet took silverware and plates to the long, scarred wooden table. "Why are you so nice to me?"

     Janet walked to stand beside her. "I had a daughter about your age." She touched Melanie’s arm. "If she had lived, I would want her to be like you."

     Mel leaned toward Janet. "I wish I’d had a mother who loved me." It would have been nice to have someone really care about her. She glanced past the woman as she heard people streaming into the kitchen. "We’d better hurry, here they come."

     The first person she saw was Al Slavery, who could miss that evil scarred face. It was all she could do to keep from flinching as he drew closer to her. Next came Dan dressed in his usual jeans and sweater with a swagger that would turn on most women. Several young stringy-haired women in sweats and a few older men followed behind him.

     "Leave the juice on the counter along with the food. It won’t hurt them to help themselves today." Janet winked at her.

     Mel smiled at Janet, saying, "Good idea." She swished the food from the skillets onto platters.

     Janet winked at her and turned toward the people before they could sit at the table. "Come and get it before it gets cold."

     The guys grabbed plates and rushed forward. Mel backed away from the counter so she wouldn’t be trampled in their attempt to get to the food. It would be a miracle if there was any left; she’d probably have to settle for a bowl of cereal.

     "Hey, you guys leave some food for the rest of us," Janet barked, sounding like a drill sergeant.

     Mel suppressed a grin, watching the men take smaller portions. She might get to eat some of her cooking after all. She flinched when Slavery purposely brushed against her scowling at him.

      The man gave her the creeps.

*****

     A couple of hours later, Melanie watched people gather in the living room from where she sat on the brown-striped couch. None of them came near her, even though she scooted to one end. They obviously preferred to sit in the orange and beige matching chairs or on the floor rather than next to her. The red and black flannel-shirted man she knew as George glared at her as he took his seat.

     When Janet, her forehead slightly beaded with perspiration, walked into the room and stood in front of them, everyone stopped talking and expectant faces turned toward her. She stood in the middle of the huge family room, light glowing down on her, making her look like a prophet with her arms spread.

     A hush settled over everyone, faces rose expectantly as though waiting to hear from their savior. Well, she was in a way since the woman had taken them in after they’d lost everything to gaming. It was amazing how these vacant-faces lit up when Janet spoke.

     "Let’s pray for the salvation of those we are trying to save from the wickedness of gambling." Janet bowed her head. "Dear God, bless our crusade to save poor souls from the hell holes of iniquity. Watch over us tonight and keep us safe as we picket before the Odyssey, and help us reach the spirit of those who have lost their way. Amen." She raised her head, asking, "Are you ready soldiers?"

     People jumped to their feet, waving their hands and yelling, "Yes. Yes, we are."

     "We’ll do anything you ask of us," George, a ruddy-faced man, said.

     Smiling, she stuck her hands palm down in front of her and waved them up and down. "Calm down, children." When everyone sat, she nodded at Melanie. "Many of you have wondered why Melanie is here, since she’s part of the industry we’re against, so today we’re going to give her a chance to explain."

     Mel stood and walked to stand beside Janet. The woman put her arms around her shoulders, whispering, "Your story will rouse them even more."

     Mel smiled up at the maternal gray-haired woman. "Thanks for allowing me to join this wonderful group. I do want to help, and I’m willing to do anything." She took a deep breath, gazing into their faces as she rubbed her moist palms down her sweat pants. How could she make these people believe she belonged here with them?

     "Humph. Seeing is believin’," George said from his seat on the couch.

     "It’s okay, go ahead. There won’t be any more interruptions," Janet said, frowning at the man.

     "I don’t blame him for not believing me." She clenched her hands and lowered her chin to her chest. "I’m ashamed to admit my family owns the Odyssey Casinos.‛

     "I know you don’t like what your casino and others are doing to our families here in the Mid-West any more than the rest of us." Janet hugged Melanie, releasing her a moment later. "Why don’t you explain what gambling did to your family."

     Her chest swelled as she inhaled, then exhaled and moved her hands nervously as she gripped them in front of her. "My father was addicted to gambling, and it killed him." Not able to stand still, she paced in front of the people, no longer seeing them. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. "My father became indebted to loan sharks, and in order to pay them off, he became involved in a scheme to sell the Odysseys to the Moneymaker Casino, a company involved in money laundering."

     Damn. Double damn. Why did he do it? She bit her lower lip to keep them from trembling as she talked about the man she’d loved. "His partner didn’t trust him and, believing Daddy was double crossing him, killed him." Coming to a stop in front of them, with her head high, she added heatedly, "My father would be alive today if it weren’t for gambling. I intend to close every single one of them." She’d make the casinos pay for what they did to her father.

     Loud clapping followed her last statement.

"That is so sad, Melanie. You may not have lost your home like the others here, but your loss was something far more precious.‛ Janet touched the younger woman’s arm. ‚Do you have more to add?‛

     Get a grip, Mel. Don’t fall apart now. Gaining control of her emotions, she said, "Yes, I do." Forgive me, Sis, for what I’m about to say about you."One addiction leads to another, my dad and my sister were both addicted to gambling, smoking and alcohol. My sister was able to break the drinking habit recently by going through rehab."

     "Oh sure, she has. How long has she been off alcohol?" George asked, in a scoffing tone.

     Mel gazed at the older, red-faced man. She knew he’d lost his home, his wife and his job because of gambling, but she didn’t think that was his only problem. There’d been a time or two she’d caught him taking a swig from a wine bottle he’d stashed in different spots around the house. Once, she’d even caught him digging one out of the snow.

     He’s definitely an alcoholic. Only Jolene had conquered her demons and George was still battling his. Janet had to know he was drinking. Mel couldn’t understand why the woman allowed him to continue to stay in her home.

     "Only about six months, but she goes to her AA meetings regularly." She hoped Jolene was still sticking to the program, but Mel didn’t really know.

     "Oh, she’ll fall off the wagon," George sneered. "They all do."

     Had the man tried to quit drinking and failed? "My sister will be one of those who’ll have the strength to stay off alcohol," she said, glaring at the man. Jolene better not start again. She’d brain her if she didn’t stay with the program. She and her sister had their problems, but Mel still wanted Jolene to be happy. The damn men Joley got involved with used her because she was desperate for love.

     The pinch on her arm halted her speech. Obviously, Janet wanted her to stick to the topic of gambling.

     She glanced up at the woman, saying, "I’m sorry I strayed from the topic."

     "Well, it’s true that people light up and drink when they gamble, but it’s a problem that can be addressed another day. Thank you for telling your reasons for being here, Melanie." Janet patted Melanie’s shoulder, giving her a little shove. "It’s time for everyone to get their clothes ready for tonight. It’s going to be extremely cold with the wind blowing and snow expected any time so put on your warmest clothes."

     Oh shit, why couldn’t they wait for summer to picket? She hated winter. Walking away from Janet, she decided she’d better make sure her long underwear was clean, or she would freeze her ass off tonight.

     When she reached the stairs, she glanced back and noticed Al, the man she’d nicknamed Scarface because of the long scar on one side of his face, in a huddle with Janet and Dan. What’s up?

*****

     "She’s feeling left out," Janet said, pausing as she watched Melanie go up the stairs. "If we don’t give her something more to do, she’s going to get bored and leave."

     "We can’t let that happen," Al Slavery said.

     "Why not?" Dan asked angrily. "I say let her go and good riddance. She’s nothing but a spoiled brat, and she might ruin everything for us."

     "Good thing you aren’t running the show,"Al sneered.

     "Well, you aren’t either," Dan said.

     "Stop it right now." Janet glared at both men. "Dan, I want you to make sure Melanie doesn’t get too bored around here." Al was right, they couldn’t let her leave, but even he didn’t know the plan Janet had concocted for little Miss Dubois.

     "Yeah, and how do you want me to do that?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

     "You could start by talking to her for one thing. I’m sure you can come up with some ideas on your own." Janet smirked. "You’re a man, aren’t you?"

     "Not much of a one," Al snarled, then snickered.

     Janet watched Dan send a baleful look Al’s way. She’d better watch these two; they hadn’t hit it off since they’d met. These men wouldn’t be allowed to mess up her scheme. Which one would she get rid of if she had to?

     Al had been with her since the beginning when they started doing harmless things like picket at cemeteries for dead soldiers. Dan was unknown, but he seemed more reckless, more willing to take chances. He might be more useful than Al for what she planned next.

     A loud knock at the door caused Janet to turn toward the sound just as it banged open and a large man stormed through the entrance and stopped. "Where is she?"

     "Who in the hell are you?" Dan demanded, running forward to grab the man by the collar.

     Exactly. Who is this man invading her house? Janet watched the giant brush Dan off like a fly. Dan wasn’t exactly short at six feet, but the other fellow had a few inches on him. As she saw Dan raise his fists and Al rush forward to help, she decided it was time to stop this nonsense before they tore up the place.

     "Wait a minute," she said, walking forward. "Who are you looking for?"

     "I want Melanie Dubois." The agitated man looked around the room. "Where is she? I know she’s here."

     "Al, go get Melanie," Janet said. "Why do you want her?"

     "Her mother asked me to bring her home."

"Don’t you think we should leave that up to her?" Janet asked in an appeasing tone, as she watched Al run up the stairs. "I’m sure Melanie is old enough to make up her mind where she wants to live."

     "I’m sure she’ll want to leave when she learns that her sister is getting married soon," Mike said.

     What was she going to do if he actually persuaded the girl to go with him? Melanie loved her sister and would want to be included in the wedding. "Well, we’ll see, won’t we?"

     She watched the dark-haired man with sideburns turn as Melanie ran down the stairs. He looked familiar to her for some reason.

     "Who wants to see me?" Mel asked, stepping off the last step and moving close to Janet.

     "This man wants to talk to you,‛ Janet said, waving her hand at the giant. Now, she remembered, he’d confronted Melanie on the picket line a while back.

     Melanie swung around, her head rose until she stared at the man. "What are you doing here? Didn’t I make myself clear before that I’m staying here?"

     Towering over her, he said, "You did. I sure as the devil wouldn’t be here if it were up to me. I’m only here because of your mother and your sister."

     Her hands on her hips, she said, "Well, you can go back and tell my mother and sister I’m not coming home."

     Janet put her hand on her shoulder as an idea formed in her mind. "Melanie, you should hear him out. Your sister is getting married and wants you to be in her wedding."

     The big man nodded.

     "When is the wedding?" Melanie asked.

     "It’s in December, the day after Christmas."

     Melanie stared up into his face. "That’s a long ways off. I’m not going with you. Tell my sister I’ll be in touch."

     "Have it your way. It doesn’t mean a damn to me." He turned, pulled the door open and glanced over his shoulder. "Sorry to have bothered all of you."

     Watching him pull the door closed, Janet already had a plan.

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Sandy AKA Sandra K. Marshall

http://www.skaymarshall.com