KD McCrite has signed a five book deal with Deer Hawk Publications for her Eastgate series...

KD McCrite has signed a five book deal with Deer Hawk Publications for her Eastgate series featuring Carrie Lockwood as the Assistant Pastor and the “Jessica Fletcher” of Eastgate Church in Hazelray, Arkansas…

Eastgate Church Keeps On Singing

An obnoxious new choir director lies dead in the church sanctuary. The senior minister and his flashy young wife seem to have skedaddled without a trace. Overworked Assistant Pastor Carrie Lockwood is oblivious to the chaos going on in Eastgate because she's in New Mexico with husband Dan, enjoying their first vacation in three years. They cut short their long-awaited holiday and return home to console hysterical friends and dithering church members while attempting to dig through a maze of long-held secrets that stretch far beyond the walls of the Eastgate Church.

http://deerhawkpublishing.wordpress.com/

www.kdmccrite.com

Countenance will be featured on The Fussy Librarian's website on October 27th.

http://www.thefussylibrarian.com/

Thirty-eight-year-old Nealey Monaghan’s life is turned upside-down one night when her sister’s estranged ex-husband kills nearly everyone she loves in one fell swoop. 

            Numb to the world, Nealey is taken in by her charmingly eccentric Aunt Sylvie, cookbook author and proprietress of the Playhouse Inn Bed and Breakfast in the hills of Tennessee. Hoping to help her niece find purpose and meaning in her life again, Sylvie makes Nealey a co-owner and begins teaching her the tricks of the trade … and the secrets of the house.

            Unbeknownst to either of them, nor to the ghost relatives who have lived there since they were murdered in 1889, there is a common thread running through their veins, and a deep secret that is dying to come out…

www.joyrossdavis.com

https://www.facebook.com/jdavisangelwriter

www.countenance.joyrossdavis.com  

Words from Pep

Dreamtime

This is the story of a dream. . . Today, sitting on my porch out of the wind and with the sun warming my face, I began to doze off. As is common in fall, bees were seeking a hiding place for the upcoming cold season. Numerous models of these insect aircraft were hovering nearby, legs, like landing gear, dangling below, engine rpms at minimum. . . . . . As the curtains lowered over my eyes I fell into the dreamtime. There, in a parallel universe, robed in yellow and brown, a Cessna sized bee stood with flaps down, engine off. A phased array of lenses peered at me gathering information without a blink. Drawn toward this craft I used one of its legs as a boarding step and perched myself atop the forward abdominal cabin. Jointed antennae snapped back and I gripped the last segments. Liftoff! Maximum acceleration! Instantly airborne we banked to the right and headed through the trees. In no time we reached elevation with rising vapors. At eleven o’clock sailed a lone swallow and ahead a family of grackles thrashed about in the turbulence of our wake as we flashed by. Fields, marshes, orchards passed below and suddenly a dizzying sharp decent brought us to a colony of white boxes. Panic was rampant in this sweet-city as it seemed few workers had returned from a recent foray. A regal looking drone, colleague of my ride, approached and with twitching antennae, buzzed, dipped and nodded instructions for a mission. We turned, ambled to the edge of the hive and were off. Stop after stop we discovered remains laced with the toxic pollen of insecticides, GMOs, fungicides. At each one my pilot lightly massaged the dead with the hairs of its own body picking up clues to report back to base. At each one my pilot seemed less coherent, less empowered for flight. Finally, our flight plan fulfilled, we again approached the colony but this time gliding in on what little strength remained. The runway was clear. No permission-to-land was forthcoming from the silent tower. Our touchdown was rough and upon taxiing to a stop my friend collapsed among the bodies of the hive. . . . . . I startled from sleep to discover a wasp and bee having conversation on the back of my hand. They turned and looked in my direction. “You need us”, they seemed to say. “Consider your ways”. . . . . . . . . (Albert Einstein stated, “If honey bees become extinct, human society will follow in four years.” Since 1965 bee populations have dropped 85%. The relationship between humans and bees is collapsing and the bees are not at fault. 70% of our food depends on bee pollination.)
www.theteacherwithin.com

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ONE WORLD  -  ONE FAMILY OF MAN  -  ONE CREATOR OF ALL

"Homecoming Queen and the Football Star" by Kathleen Rodgers

"Homecoming Queen and the Football Star" by Kathleen Rodgers

 Perfect for October.

http://siteblog.kathleenmrodgers.com/?p=646

Indies Unlimited just featured the second trailer for Climbing Maya by Ken La Salle!

Indies Unlimited just featured the second trailer for Climbing Maya by Ken La Salle!

http://www.indiesunlimited.com/2013/09/29/video-trailer-climbing-maya/

Words from Pep - Wonder & Awe

Words from Pep

Wonder & Awe

The atmosphere filled with gold as light forced its way between wind driven clouds low in the western sky. I reached with cupped hands and drew the Spirit of this air to my face. The windows through which I considered the scene became moist with gratitude. Here was the tangible presence of God. . . . . . Where do we find wonder and awe? How is the spirit of humankind astonished, uplifted? From where does the divine spark flare out and cause you to marvel? . . . . . I pondered this as I knelt in the fallen leaves secretly watching a family of Teal dabbling the surface of a small back bay. Here in this protected cove the thought occurred to me, if I could say anything to the universe it has to be, “thank you.” . . . . . The downside of technology, power and urbanization has been the isolation of modern man from what is real, from what is transcendent. We are starved for the Creative Presence. Our capacity to experience the sublime in creation is being lost as the virtual world of the artificial dominates our lives. In your center you know this to be true. . . . . . Shadow flashed across the water and the Teal family was startled to attention. Osprey was on the wing, an airborne glider with talons hunting in the gold. This family of six scurried to the reeds, hidden and safe while colored leaves, sailboat like in the sky, floated on the wind above them. . . . . . Here was wonder and amazement at the perfection of Creation’s complex workings. It was here, within Creation’s garden of serenity and fearsomeness, within the mysteries and questions, that the ecstasy of awe was first birthed in the heart of humankind. There is a mystical component to our being. We were fashioned to inhabit the golden light of God’s magnificent splendor portrayed in creation. Bend a knee in the temple of the universe and childlike astonishment will rise again. This shall be your praise. 

www.theteacherwithin.com

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ONE WORLD  -  ONE FAMILY OF MAN  -  ONE CREATOR OF ALL

Paintball Words By Brandon Loiacono

Paintball Words

By Brandon Loiacono

‘I love you’ ‘Thank you’ ‘You’re welcome’

            Now a days, words are almost meaningless --thrown around, shot, and suddenly harmless. People used to understand; only used those words when they meant them -- now rendered careless. Careless in the part of which care is opposed, but later changed to a smaller meaning of not focused, unconsidered, care-‘less’. We should consider the true power of words, get to actually know them, those misunderstood bullets of kindness.