Saturday Snippet – Savannah’s Bluebird

bluebird_small webHere’s a snippet from my brand new book, Savannah’s Bluebird.

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She strolled down to the beach of Lake Pontchartrain and found a quiet spot on the bank. She stared at the ripples of water lapping the shore, mesmerized by the sound, which was accompanied by seabirds whistling and cawing as they flew overhead. She closed her eyes and let the sounds wash over her, attempting to block out the awful world she now lived in. The noise of someone clearing her throat interrupted Savannah’s reverie. She looked around and saw an old woman emerging from the tree line behind her. The woman was covered in layers of bright and ornate scarves and wraps that curled around her in the breeze. Her dark red hair was in a bun on top of her head, but stringy ringlets dripped around her face and neck, tangling themselves in her large hoop earrings.

“I thought I’d find you here.” The old woman cackled as she approached.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. You must have me confused with someone else. Do I know you?”

“No, I don’t have you confused with anyone else, dear, and no, you don’t know me.” The old woman had a bulge of tobacco in her cheek, and she spit some sweet-smelling brown juice on the dirt.

Savannah started to rise to leave, made uncomfortable by the weird old woman.

“No, chavi, you need to stay and speak with me. I came down here from Biloxi because I have a gift for you here in my bujo.”

“Your bujo?”

The woman held up her large bag.

Savannah reluctantly sat back down, now curious about the woman.

“You’re from Biloxi?”

“No, dear, I’m from New Orleans, but I’ve lived in Biloxi a few years.” The woman plopped down next to her and began digging deep into the bag. She fished around for a long time and eventually pulled out a small object wrapped in a dirty handkerchief. She looked at it strangely for a moment, and then held it toward Savannah, who did not reach for it.

“Here.” She thrust it into Savannah’s chest. “This is for you. Take it.”

“I’m sure I don’t need any gifts, ma’am.”

“Just open it. It’s baxtalo. You would say…lucky.” She placed it in Savannah’s hand.

Savannah stared at the handkerchief and didn’t move.

“Open it,” the crone demanded.

Savannah placed it on her lap and tried to touch the filthy handkerchief as little as possible as she unfolded it to reveal a small blue object made of glass. She held it up between her thumb and forefinger and saw it was a two-inch-tall bluebird. She turned and awaited an explanation from the old woman.

“I knew you’d like it.” The woman smiled through missing teeth. She twisted her chin to the side and spit more tobacco juice onto the ground.

“But why?”

“I know you’ve had a difficult time since coming here, and I thought this would make you feel better.” The woman turned and stared at the water. Her expression grew solemn and she continued speaking without looking at Savannah. “Fate may not be kind to you, young lady, and you will need this item to face your future.”

“Ma’am, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t, do you? Tell me about Thomas Blakely.”

“What?”

“Your father.”

“What do you know about my father?”

“I met him about fifteen years ago…right here on this very beach.” She thumbed a direction over her shoulder. “Right over there at a little watering hole I worked at. He was courting your mother at the time.” She smiled. “I was young then, too, and I must admit, he was a handsome man, and I had eyes for him as well. He was working on those railroad tracks my people destroyed. They were angry that the train was going to go through their homes. I don’t mean near their homes, I mean right through the middle of them. My people have always lived off the land, not in those fancy houses like you live in. It was because of us that your father was here working at the time. It was because of us he met your mother, so I guess it was because of us that you were born.” She paused and kept staring at the small wavelets. “He sure was a handsome man. Too bad he wasn’t one of us.”

“You’re a gypsy.”

The woman nodded.

“Do you live on the beach in Biloxi?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I live here.”

Savannah looked down at the glass object in her hand. “You’re the one who told my father the bluebird story.”

“Yes, child, I am.” She turned toward Savannah. “The bluebird is magical, and it can do some surprising things.”

“Yes, my father told me.”

The woman didn’t acknowledge her comment. “Sadly, I didn’t plan on him seeing the bluebird while he was with your mother. I was hoping he would see it while he was with…oh, never mind about that. Things happen and life goes on. We all have our own private destiny to live out, even if it affects others.”

Savannah stared at the woman’s face, realizing the woman wasn’t as old as she initially looked. She carried herself like an old woman, but there wasn’t a crease on her face, not a wrinkle around her eyes or lips. She was actually quite pretty in an exotic way.

“So, you were friends with my father?”

“You could say that.”

Savannah didn’t like the cryptic answer. Did this woman love her father? Was the bluebird story a spell to make her father fall in love?

“Tell me about August.”

A shiver went up Savannah’s spine. “How do you know about August?”

“I know everything, child. I know the past, the present”—she looked Savannah in the eyes—“and the future.”

“Are you a fortune teller?”

The woman shrugged. “No, I am no drabarni—fortune teller, as you say.” She spit again and shrugged. “Some people call me a witch, but I’m no witch, either. I just know things. Some people around here call it voodoo, but it’s not voodoo. My people come from a faraway land and some of us have special gifts.”

The woman slowly climbed to her feet with a few grunts and groans. She leaned forward a bit, half hunched as if her back was aching. Her scarves blew wildly around her head as the wind picked up, giving her a mysterious aura. She looked like a witch.

“I will tell you one thing before I go. My son, Bernard, and your August will meet someday, and you will need that little bluebird when the time comes. Keep it close to you. Remember the magic your father told you of the bluebird, and know that this one holds even more power than the story. It is a mulevi. It will make your deepest wish come true if only you will ask. But be careful how you use it, and don’t use it frivolously. You will know beyond a shadow of a doubt when the time comes, and it will be the most powerful thing you will ever witness.”

“What’s a mulevi?”

“An item to reach the dead.”

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Lori Crane Books at Amazon

STUCKEY’S LEGACY Sneak Peek

As I was writing “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge,” I came across the most amazing fictional character. He is eccentric, charming, rich, and good looking, mixed with a heaping tablespoon of psychopath. I am completely obsessed with him and his story. What if someone in the story is not as impressed with him as I? What if that person would rather see him dead?

unnamedThere is an undeniable sequel to “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge”  – “Stuckey’s Legacy: The Legend Continues” – available June 1st in paperback, Kindle, Nook, and iBook.

For my dear friends and faithful readers, here’s a sneak peek. It will give you a flavor of my new favorite psycho Levi.

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December 31, 1911 11:59 p.m.

“…five…four…three…two…one…Happy New Year!” the crowd chanted in unison and the orchestra began to play “Auld Lang Syne.” Balloons fell from the ceiling and confetti was tossed from the mezzanine. It fluttered to the floor, covering couples who clung together on the ballroom’s massive dance floor. Wine flowed and lovers kissed, and twenty-two-year-old Levi stood off to the side, sipping his champagne, observing the festivities with a mixture of apathy and loathing.

A gentleman in a crumpled tuxedo, heading toward the bar, staggered by him and nodded. Levi coldly nodded back, hoping the intoxicated man wouldn’t stop to chat. He was here to observe and mingle, not to spend the evening listening to a slurring drunkard. It had taken him a decade to get into this elite circle and he wasn’t going to let some sot spoil it. He downed the remaining liquid, plopped his empty champagne glass on the nearest table, and quickly moved across the room.

Following a magnificent dinner of pheasant and turkey in the Grand Dining Room, he had thus far spent the evening strolling around the luxurious Jekyll Island Club, chatting with people with familiar surnames—Firestone, Carnegie, Rockefeller, Vanderbilt. He introduced himself to them as Levi Temple, a business partner of the late Cornelius Bliss.

Temple wasn’t his real name, though he had been using it for the last ten years. Most people in his hometown of Meridian, Mississippi, would remember him as Levi Stuckey, the boy who’d mysteriously disappeared following the hanging of his father from the iron rails of Stuckey’s Bridge. His father was Thomas Stuckey. He wasn’t Levi’s real father, but when someone back in those days assumed he was, Levi never bothered to correct them. As a matter of fact, Stuckey wasn’t that man’s real name, either. He took it from one of his victims, a man named Carter Stuckey. Carter Stuckey had spent the night at Thomas’s inn on his way to deliver a trunk to Vicksburg—a trunk full of gold. Not many visitors ever left that inn, especially visitors who carried great wealth. Carter Stuckey fit that description, meeting his demise for being a deliveryman. Thomas Stuckey never got to enjoy the gold he stole, though. He was strung up for murder before he even viewed the sparkling contents of the trunk.

Following Thomas’s hanging, twelve-year-old Levi disappeared with the trunk. He took a horse and wagon and rode away from Meridian with the trunk, and he didn’t leave a trace.

After he fled, he dropped the name Stuckey so he’d never be associated with Thomas, Carter, or the missing trunk of gold. He considered taking back his given name, but he didn’t want to be linked to the sack of crap who owned that name, either. It had been so long since he’d used his real name, he could barely remember what it was. So, after a quick deliberation, he took the name of the only man he’d ever trusted, the sheriff of Lauderdale County—J.R. Temple. Yes, Temple was a good name, a good name from a good man. Levi always felt a tinge of remorse for disappearing and leaving Sheriff Temple to wonder what happened to him, but at the time he didn’t have a choice. He deserved more in life than a stolen name and a tainted past with murderers, drunks, and whores. The gold could give him the future he wanted.

Since the moment he left Lauderdale County, Levi had spent every waking hour infiltrating the inner circle of high society, and as of tonight, he had finally arrived. So far, this seemed a very good place to be. He sipped imported sparkling champagne as he socialized with gentlemen in expensive tuxedos, beautiful women adorned with exceptional jewels, and even a few servants who scurried around catering to the social elite. Though he wasn’t born into this circle, and he thought most of them idiots who were beneath him, he felt at home here. He was finally receiving the respect he deserved.

As the orchestra struck up a lively ragtime tune, Levi walked toward the patio door to step outside and get a breath of fresh air. His heels clicked on the marble floor as he passed velvet chaise lounges and crystal chandeliers. The leaded-art glass was a sight to behold and the classical details of the mansion were breathtaking. He would have a house this fine someday.

He found the patio alit with lanterns and twinkling holiday lights, flanked by sweeping staircases that led down to the beach. The half moon shone brightly in the winter sky, and an ocean breeze rustled through his dark blond hair. He closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the gentle wind on his face. He took a deep breath of the ocean draft. It smelled like fresh linen hung on the line. He opened his eyes and looked around. Baskets filled with late-blooming roses were spaced intermittently around the cement patio. Other than the fragrant flowers, he found the patio nearly empty. Everyone was inside on the dance floor celebrating the arrival of the new year. Everyone except that brunette he had been eyeing all evening.

He had noticed her hours earlier, the moment she entered the front door. She was petite but floated into the room like she owned the place, all willowy with a smoky air about her. Her charcoal-lined eyes were dark and seductive, hiding playfully behind the rim of her extravagant black velvet hat. When she walked, the long, white ostrich feather on top of her hat danced with each step. He found her movements intoxicating.

She wore the most luxurious mink stole he had ever seen, and when she removed it, she looked like a Grecian goddess. Her empire-waist dress flowed to the floor, the black velvet bodice cut low enough to make every man in the room stop and stare. The black fan she fluttered in front of her face made her even more exotic. Levi had attempted to approach her a few times throughout the evening, but she was always surrounded by admirers and he couldn’t get close enough to utter a single word. Out here on the patio, she was again with a gentleman.

Levi stepped to the edge of the patio and placed his fingers on the railing. She had her back against the railing, being courted by some wealthy boy in a man’s suit. Levi snickered. These rich boys don’t know how to seduce a woman, he thought. They think they can have anything they want, including a woman, simply because their fathers gave them money.

He remained still and looked out to the sea. The moon illuminated a path of white on the dark water. The reflection went all the way to the horizon. He absentmindedly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his silver lighter. He flipped it open and closed over and over with one hand. He kept stealing glances to his left at the couple, wondering if he should interrupt them. The rich boy stumbled forward a little, almost falling onto the woman. He seemed to be more than a little drunk. Levi held his breath and waited for the woman to say something, hoping he’d be able to tell whether or not she needed him to intervene.

When she spoke, her voice had a deep rasp with the slightest Southern drawl. Why did that not surprise him? He felt a stirring in his loins and glanced again at the couple.

“Mr. Goodyear, I’m flattered by your attention, but don’t you think we should be going back inside now? Your friends are surely looking for you.”

The boy caught his balance, stood up straight, and countered, “No, they’re not looking for me. They’re having their own fun…just like we should.” The boy leaned in for a kiss, but the woman turned her face to the left and looked directly into Levi’s eyes. She smiled faintly.

It was not the plea of a woman needing assistance that he’d been expecting to see. The expression he saw on her face was one of confidence and power. This woman didn’t need his help. She was more than capable of fending off a drunken suitor. Levi watched her as she scowled and playfully pushed on the boy’s chest to back him away.

“Really, Mr. Goodyear, that’s enough for now.” She pushed harder on his chest.

The boy shrugged and mumbled something Levi couldn’t make out. The woman pulled her fur around her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at Levi, suggesting he should mind his own business. She turned the boy toward the open doorway, tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow, and led him toward the ballroom. As the two made their way to the door, a woman’s bloodcurdling scream came from the direction of the beach.

Levi and the couple turned toward the ocean, attempting to see the source of the screaming through the palm trees that lined the patio, but it was impossible. The screaming continued. People began streaming out of the ballroom, asking what was going on, and men sprinted down the stairs on both sides of the patio, hurrying toward the sound.

Levi turned and looked at the alluring woman, whose young suitor had left her standing alone while he joined the other men heading to the beach.

She stared into Levi’s eyes with no expression.

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Just for kicks, I think this is the woman Levi was watching, and I think she’s going to be trouble with a capital T.penny fisher

Lori Crane Books at Amazon

FREE FREE FREE AUDIOBOOK

Hi everyone!

Last month, I released my book Okatibbee Creek on audiobook at Audible, Amazon, and iTunes. It was narrated by the talented and fabulous Margaret Lepera. Audible has granted me a few FREE copies and I would like to give them away to you!

Please read the blurb below and and check out the sample at Audible – click HERE. If you find the story fits your taste, shoot me an email at LoriCraneAuthor@gmail.com and I’ll send you a FREE download code. I have ten to give away, so hurry up and be the one of the first ten to send me an email. I only ask that you rate it on Audible when you’re done listening. I only have one rating over there so far, and it looks pretty lonely. 😦

51QeOBe26zL._SL500_AA300_PIaudible,BottomRight,13,73_AA300_Blurb:

In the bloodiest years of our nation’s history, a young mother was left alone to endure the ravages of the Civil War and a typhoid epidemic that threatened the lives of everyone left behind.

Okatibbee Creek is based on the true story of Mary Ann Rodgers, who survived the collapse of the Confederate dollar, food shortages, and the deaths of countless family members to war and disease. As she searched for a way to feed her children and her orphaned nieces and nephews, Sherman’s Union army marched through Mississippi on their way to destroy Meridian, and Mary Ann found the distant war literally on her doorstep.

Help arrived just in the nick of time in the form of an unexpected champion, and Mary Ann emerged on the other side a heroic woman with an amazing story.

Okatibbee Creek is a tale of historical fiction that brings the Deep South vividly to life and will have you cheering and crying through a real-life story of loss, love, and survival.

UPDATE FEBRUARY 11: I still have one more copy if you’re interested. LoriCraneAuthor@gmail.com

Reviewers Who “Got” It

imagesIf you’re a writer, you’ve had to endure reviews. Sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised by a five-star only to be confused by a comment like “It’s okay if you don’t have anything else to read.” Sometimes you’re saddened by a one-star that strangely says something like “It’s okay if you don’t have anything else to read.” Huh? Usually reviews are flat comments like “I liked it,” or “I didn’t like it,” and nothing more. But, there are the occasional reviews that show the reader understood what the writer was trying to say. No matter the rating; the reviewer “got” it!

I wrote a story based in Mississippi during the Civil War called Okatibbee Creek. It was about Mary Ann (my third great grandmother) and how she grew up with fourteen siblings. Most of those siblings had eight/ten/twelve children of their own, so it was a HUGE family. By the middle of the book, the Civil War and typhoid fever decimated them, killing a majority of her family members in just one year. The family went from nearly 100 members to a scant handful. Mary Ann ended up without her parents or husband, taking in her orphaned nieces and nephews with no means of supporting them, trying to survive alone during the hell of war. She had never been alone before, seriously ALONE.  I wanted the reader to have a sense of where she came from and what the war and disease had done to her, so they could feel her isolation, her panic, her sadness. Most of the poor reviews complain that there are too many family members, too many names. They don’t get it.

Here’s a review from someone who “got” it…

Loldog-funny-pictures-you-got-it-babe“This book is fascinating. For those of you that haven’t, it’s a glimpse into the mystery and fascination of finding your roots and imagining the life of your ancestors. I couldn’t help but wonder how a long dead relative felt when 3 of her 7 children died on the trail west. Or the first grandchild perishing as a baby along the Columbia River in Oregon. What kept these pioneers feeling that the trek was worth the pain? Yes, there are a lot of names. Start a family tree and enjoy the story. It’s just what I would have wanted to write about my family.”

Happy New Year, I’m baaaack!

Hello 2014! It’s so nice to see you.

1469780_10152023739203326_873291096_nI have to admit the year has been more than screwy so far. I was working on a ship out of New York the whole month of December, and on January 5th, I tried to board my hour-long flight from New York to Detroit to get home…but…2 cancellations, 3 delays, 1 missed flight, 3 states, 42 hours, and a partridge in a pear tree later, I finally arrived. Yes, I’m complaining, but not as hard as the folks I spoke with on Monday night in Minneapolis (don’t ask me how I got there) who were trying to get home to Toronto since Thursday. I hope everyone finally made it to their destination and is recovering from the experience. P.S. I’m still searching for my luggage. 😛

1479265_10152062245918326_674580956_nThe most exciting part of the trip was a medical emergency on the ship in the middle of the Atlantic, which caused the Coast Guard to fly out and airlift someone. If you look under the helicopter in this photo, you’ll see the Coast Guard guy coming down onto the ship on a rope. Just another gig for these guys. They are amazing! I’ll tell you what though…they lifted the sick person into the helicopter, strapped on to a stretcher. If the person didn’t already have a heart attack, he probably did during that lift. Note: I spoke with a Coast Guard person while sitting in the airport (see above paragraph) and he said there is no cost for a person to be rescued at sea. Thank goodness. That would probably cause a heart attack also.

51QeOBe26zL._SL500_AA300_PIaudible,BottomRight,13,73_AA300_So, in December, my book Okatibbee Creek came out on audio. It’s available at Amazon, Audible, and iTunes. It was narrated by the amazing actress Margaret Lepera. If you’re not familiar with the story, it’s the life story of my third great grandmother, and hearing her voice come to life takes my breath away. You can listen to a sample clip at any of the above links. Check it out.

 

 

AOH%20cover_webAlso, my cover for An Orphan’s Heart, created by Elite Book Design, moved into the finals at AuthorsdB Book Cover Contest. It is in the Top 10 in the ‘Overall’ category. That’s like ‘Cover of the Year’ or something. The winners will be announce in February. Wish me luck!badge-finalist

bluebird_small webWhile I was away, I finished writing Savannah’s Bluebird, which is coming out in February, and I’m very excited about it. I had tea every Tuesday morning at Port Canaveral with the dolphins in the inlet. You can’t see them in the photo, but trust me, they’re there. I also partied for five weeks with the casts of Rock of Ages and Second City and am enamored by those awesomely talented people. It was a great trip. I’ll be sailing out of Miami to the Caribbean the month of March. I’m hoping for a better flight experience. 🙂940829_10152095248678326_1464106962_n

I may not post a lot this month as I’m opening a new dueling piano club in Grand Rapids, Michigan starting TONIGHT, then working in Milwaukee, Wisconsin for a couple weeks. I promise I’ll be back full time in February.

Stay warm! and I’ll talk to y’all soon. ♥

Cover Reveal! “Legends of Windemere: Allure of the Gypsies”

LEGENDS OF WINDEMERE: ALLURE OF THE GYPIES

by Charles Yallowitz

Allure Final CoverThe epic adventures of Luke Callindor and Nyx continue after their journey down the L’Dandrin River in Legends of Windemere: Prodigy of Rainbow Tower.Reeling from his failures in their previous adventure, Luke leads his surviving friends to his hometown.  With his mind frayed and his confidence fractured, Luke must face the family and fiancée he left behind.  It is a brief homecoming when the vampire Kalam attacks the village, forcing Luke and Nyx to break into his lair for the key to resurrecting a fallen warrior.  It is a quest that will force both young heroes to reach new heights of strength and power that they never knew they had.

Can Luke and Nyx escape the lair of Kalam?  And, what role will the orphaned gypsy Sari play in their looming destiny?

Coming December 1, 2013

PREVIOUS BOOKS BY CHARLES YALLOWITZ

Legends of Windemere: Beginning of a Hero (Volume 1)  http://www.amazon.com/Beginning-Hero-Legends-Windemere-ebook/dp/B00BL9GBU2/

Legends of Windemere: Prodigy of Rainbow Tower (Volume 2)  http://www.amazon.com/Prodigy-Rainbow-Legends-Windemere-ebook/dp/B00E8WUD5S/

BIO

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

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COVER ARTIST

Book Cover Contest – please vote!

Hi Kidleys! Big favor to ask of you. Please vote and pass along to your friends. Repost, Share, Tweet, Shout from the rooftops!

AOH%20cover_webMy book cover for AN ORPHAN’S HEART is up for an award in the 2013 AuthorsdB Book Cover Contest in the History category. It was created by Elite Book Design and is definitely one of my favorite covers. You can vote on both Facebook for COVER OF THE YEAR and on AuthorsdB in the History category. You can vote once every 24 hours. Please bookmark it and do so!!

Stuckey's cover_webMy book cover for THE LEGEND OF STUCKEY’S BRIDGE is also up for an award in the Mystery/Thriller category. It too was created by Elite Book Design. Please vote at AuthorsdB.

My ELLY HAYS book tour is stopping at Writing Whims today!

elly cover_webELLY HAYS is at Writing Whims today!

If you’ve ever wanted to know anything about me but were too shy to ask, author PC Zick at Writing Whims did the asking for you. Run over to her page HERE and read my amazing and jaw-dropping answers. 😛

THEN, comment on the interview and be entered to win a free eBook.

THEN, check out PC Zick’s books on Amazon HERE. Her latest is a “Civil War Journal of a Union Soldier” which is a real journal of a real person who was really there. It’s stunning. I read it! I also loved “Trails in the Sand.”

ELLY HAYS book tour – at Sandi Layne’s today!

elly cover_webToday’s stop on the ELLY HAYS book tour is at author Sandi Layne’s blog. Sandi asked me why I wrote ELLY HAYS, and that’s what the blog is about. Elly isn’t just another story — it is the story of my 5th great grandmother. I am honored and proud to share her life with you, TWO HUNDRED YEARS later. You can read the article right HERE!  Also, don’t forget to comment over there to win a free eBook.

 

While you’re at it, check out Sandi’s award-winning books on Amazon right HERE. She is a fabulous and prolific writer! I hope to have that many books out someday. 🙂