Xlibris Book Review: A Friend Made Me Remember

Paul Bennett aka Cralion. A Friend Made Me Remember. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-44154-812-2. 2009. Perfect Bound Softcover.

Overview:

Paul’s writing spirit was revived in 1993 and he was re-inspired by a friend named Kim to renew his poetic writing and thus A FRIEND MADE ME REMEMBER WAS BORN to be followed by another book entitled FOR THE LOVE AND LOVER IN YOU. Three poems from that book are found in the highly acclaimed book THE CHOCOLATE SHIP by celebrated author Marissa Monteilh who also wrote MAY DECEMBER SOULS, HOT BOYZ, MAKE ME HOT AND MORE. Ms. Monteilh also wrote, “Paul Bennett is poetically talented beyond his years. A FRIEND MADE ME REMEMBER will lyrically touch each of your senses, and passionately stroke your soul. You will be moved, you will be touched, and your heart will be warmed by the flow of his genius.” Debra Clayton, celebrated author of RAP SUPERSTAR wrote, “blessed and truly talented. Although I find all of your poems to be intoxicating and mesmerizing, there were a few that climbed into my heart. God has blessed you with an incredible gift. Let the rest of the world experience what I experienced when I read your touching, thought provoking words.” Bennett’s writing spawned an anthology of poems contained within and reflects not only his gifted penchant for writing poetry, but reveals something about the man, his strong feelings for family, people and the world in which we live.

Book Teaser:

A Friend Made Me Remember

(Dedicated to the true love of my life Jessie

Faye Shackelford, my mother)

You’re always in my heart

hidden deep in my thoughts . . . in me

The pain of losing you submerged by many years

and a deluge of tears

From your inspiration my life has gone on

time brought acceptance of your absence from my life

But your love remains one with my entity

it sustains me . . . that an God

I still have the need to give you my love

I cry silent tears for need of yours

Both desires share your memory,

both lost the gift of you

Then a friend made me remember in vivid reflection

the joy of loving you, the happiness of being with you

The pain of losing you

the despair of needing you

The question of why still lingers strong

yet the answer may be too clear

I just don’t want to see

when you took your life, you took mine from me

I too have tasted emptiness, and it’s all bitter flavored

its loneliness, its despair, the hopelessness

The depression that says “to hell with it all"

I need to stop the pain in the void of death

There were guilt’s burdens that robbed my strength

my peace of mind, my faith

Drained away with years matched by waves of tears

knowing the instrument of your demise . . . was mine

I should have taken it with me

I should have known your mind

I didn’t see them, but there had to be warning signs

please forgive me

My survival is in your strength bequeathed in blood refined,

your love protected me

Memory of your smile encouraged me

sustained me, filled the lonely abyss left by your passing

Inhabited those empty spaces somehow, someway

Reminded me of your devotion, a lifetime of caring to your children

Bernard, Brenda and Me

I didn't understand you leaving us three

but then Iwas only thinking of them . . . and me

Alas hindsight is cruel with no sympathy for mistakes and recriminations

I didn’t always say what I should have said

These words came slow to my lips in life, but were in my heart

Ithank God Isaid them before your life here was no more

Know I loved, love, and will always love you more than life

My gratitude to God for your womb that bore me

for the arms that held me and comforted me

The breasts and spirit that nourished me

my prayers and blessing on him for your motherhood

Thanks mom

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Indian Summer - Xlibris Book Review

Book Teaser

Hannah was Indian and she was very old. No one knew exactly, but people guessed her age to be between seventy and eighty.

A visit to Hannah Blossom was no ordinary occurrence. She lived like a hermit, shunning visitors unless they came to buy her sweet hay baskets. Sarah had heard a rumor from her friend Tish that Hannah was a medicine woman, but whenever Sarah's mother took her to visit there had been no weird incantations or visible magic potions. About once a year, Winona made the long trek by foot, sometimes taking Sarah. The prospect of another visit was exciting.

"Do you really feel up to it, Ma?"

"Of course I do." Her mother laughed, and Sarah, reassured, could see that she, too, was excited. “Vled better get ready. I'd like to get there before the sun is high. We'll take a picnic lunch and eat by Rocky Brook.‘

The road east to the mountain was hard-packed gravel and smooth for easy walking. They went along briskly, Sarah's mother with a natural grace in spite of her heavy pregnancy. To shorten the journey, they cut across Duncan's farm and over a small footbridge at the brook.

The day was cool, but by the time they reached the footpath to Hannah's cabin, Sarah's mother was panting and her forehead was slick with moisture. They rested on a fallen log at the edge of the woods and then continued on the path that wound into the foothills.

Sarah's mother had a keen eye for things in the forest. Now and then she would point out a hidden flower for Sarah to admire, or a rare herb to retrieve. She pointed to a mass of translucent gum on an old spruce tree, and Sarah broke off a big piece to bring home to Johnny for chewing gum.

Suddenly the cabin was in front of them, almost hidden trees. It was small, only one room, but it was sturdy and the cracks between the logs were well packed with clay. Beyond the cabin in a sunny open space, Hannah crouched on her knees, gathering green herbs.

She looked up and frowned at the appearance of visitors, but when she recognized Sarah and her mother, she dropped the armload of greens into a large basket and smiled as she came out to greet them. Her face was as brown as a walnut. Two black eyes buried in wrinkles shone like glass marbles. When she grinned, her two pink gums shone~-there wasn't a tooth in her head. Her snow-white hair, parted in the middle, hung in thick braids over her ears. She wore faded blue overalls and a red plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal wrinkled brown wrists.

Hannah took Winona's hand in her two brown ones.

'I heard about the baby,' she said in a dry cracked voice that sounded like a man's. 'I didn't think you'd come.'

“But that's why I came-to get one of your new baskets to keep the baby's clothes in-and to see you, of course."

The old woman shook her head and clamped her lips together. When she did, her chin almost met her nose, and Sarah hid a smile behind her hand.

Hannah led the way into the cabin. It was dark inside, for there was only one window besides the doorway, and very little sun filtered through the tree branches that overhung the cabin.

She lit a candle, and by its flickering light Sarah saw there were many beautiful baskets on shelves and walls, some as small as a teacup, others larger than a washtub, in round, square and oval shapes. Some had covers with little straw hinges. Some were a natural color, a soft gray green, while others were patterned in vividly dyed reds, yellows and browns. The nicest thing about them was the sweet hay fragrance-the most delightful perfume in the world to Sarah's nose-not heavy, like some women wore, but delicate and sweetly fresh, making you think of daisies in the sun or violets in spring rain. One exquisite basket caught Sarah's eye. It was shaped like a mother hen whose feathers lifted up on a hinge to form a cover.

Sarah's mother found a large square basket.

“How much?"

The wrinkled brown face grinned. "Cheap-fifty cents."

Reaching for it, Hannah pointed to a small defect in the weave.

‘Are you sure?" Sarah's mother knew how many hours such fine

weaving required.

‘I have tea,‘ Hannah said, her voice raised in a half-question.

‘Tea would be fine.‘

Sarah knew what would follow. There was always the ritual reading of the tea leaves. Hannah would read Sarah's first. With Sarah’s fortune there was always much laughter. Hannah would peer for a long time into the cup, turn it this way and that and say, “H-m-m-ah-h-h! I see a fair-haired man in your future," making Sarah blush and giggle, because it was always the same prophecy.

Today it was the same, except that the man in Sarah's future would be tall and dark, and something else was added. The black marble eyes shone with a mysterious twinkle. “Soon,“ she said, “you go on a journey."

‘Oh, where?‘

‘The leaves do not tell."

Hannah put down Sarah's cup and took up Winona 's. She looked at the small pattern of leaves in it and then at Sarah's mother quickly before peering again into the cup. She turned it in her hands and closed her eves.

Ella Gilman Conger. Indian Summer. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-44151-905-4. 2009. Perfect Bound Softcover.

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Xlibris Book Review: Kindred

Bradley C. Bridgens. Kindred.  Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-44157-488-6. 2011. Casebound Hardcover.

Review:

'Kindred' is a story about young love, adoption, betrayal and the pursuit of life-long dreams and the embracing of destiny. Emi DeLandry and Phoenix Arington appear to be like any other teenagers in Southern California. They have loving and supportive families; a close group of friends and very comfortable lives with the world at their feet. Like any other person their age, Emi and Phoenix desire to find that 'One' person who they know they are destined to be with. It is a search that both of them actively pursue, night after night, as they release their thoughts and emotions into the atmosphere. But these two teenagers are anything but "normal". Out of the millions of people on Earth, they have been gifted with unique and powerful abilities; allowing them to do things that others only dream about. With these abilities comes a unique bond and a love that is deeper than what is read of in Shakespearean literature, and stronger than that of any television soap opera, it can only be described as "destiny". Upon meeting, Emi, a telepath and Phoenix, an empath are almost instantly drawn into each other's worlds. And although they can read the thoughts and emotions of those around them, they fail to know the deepest desires of one another. As time goes by they discover each other, as well as the remarkable abilities that they both possess. All seems good and well, as the two teens fall in love and begin a new, passionate and exciting chapter of their lives. But amongst all the excitement of adolescent love, their lives are about to take a very unexpected turn. Unbeknown to them, there is an enemy out there, an agency, which operates within the government and exists under a constant cloud of secrecy, ridding the world of anyone who possesses supernatural powers...and they have set their sights upon the young lovers. All Emi and Phoenix have are their instincts and abilities, as they are forced to leave their comfortable lives behind, in an attempt to stay alive and out of harm's way. The only means of assistance is being provided from a distance by those closest to them. The two gifted teenagers are thrust into a world where deception and treachery has previously ruled everyday life, and where survival is crucial, no matter what the circumstances. Along the way they encounter Manny and Adelene, two people who also possess extraordinary abilities and share a common conviction, regarding the enemy. As Manny and Adelene have been in the game longer than their young counterparts, they know the ropes and are aware of the agency's methods. They then take it upon themselves to mentor Phoenix and Emi as the four of them prepare for one final conflict. Their lives and the lives of those they love are on the line, as the war begins between those who are ordinary and those who are supernaturally adept.

Book Teaser:

As I had predicted, the day had started out with the usual whine of the schoolgirls who I called my friends. I guess you could've descrbed it as the kind of typical morning matter that filled any Southern Californian high school. Sherry Martindale was blabbing on about how her dad had got this deal with a big financial company and had promised her something special for her seventeenth birthday. Then there was Amanda Johnson. She was known as the ice queen of our group-the girl with daggers for eyes and the tone of voice that could disarm anyone who didn‘t appeal to her. Amanda was the kind of girl that would literally send shivers down your spine because of her in hospitable nature. She gave the normal rant about how Michael Flannery had flirted with her on the weekend at some party. She made it sound like there was something serious going on, which wasn't the case. It was all about what she could get out of the experience. If she got what she wanted, then that was good enough for her. Next was Kaydence Stewart. Kaydence and I were a little bit closer as friends than the two girls who accompanied us. We had grown up with each other since fifth grade, and we were always great friends. Kaydence was intelligent, witty, and fun, more so than the other two girls. But when we were all together, Kaydence and I made it worth our while, even if we had to lie our way through meaningless conversation. Lastly there was me, Emi DeLandry. I was a little quieter than the others. I was a thinker, a wonderer, and a dreamer. I would always think before I spoke to make sure that I knew what lwantedto say. I was also

----------------------------------

intelligent, a live spark, and facetious when I wanted to be. Kaydence knew me for that. But what some of the girls hardly knew was that I was an extravagant lover. I would dote on them and show how much I

loved them in any way, shape, or form. That's just who I was, and I was proud of it.

As usual we waked into our first class of the day, English, hated by some and loved by others, much like myself. I had a natural flare for the class. It wasn‘t that I was a teacher's pet or anything, I just thoroughly

enjoyed learning about the English language and how it operated. I always saw English class as a means of improving the way I expressed love and appreciation toward those in my circle of friends. I sat down with

Kaydence in the middle of the room toward the back, where we usually sat, and got out my books. Amanda and Sherry placed themselves somewhere close to Michael Flannery and his friends. Unfortunately, they were suckers for attention from their male counterparts. It's not that Kaydence and I didn't like guys like Michael, it was just that we had...higher standards.

Ms. Bennett started the session by writing a quote on the board and talking about the latest book we had been given to read. You could hear the murmurs of various students as she spoke. Kaydence gave a slight giggle, and I just focused on what Ms. Bennett was saying. It was like the subject matter of this class hypnotized me that I couldn‘t do anything else. lt was better that way, or I would get too caught up in my

thoughts of the previous night, and I couldn‘t allow that. But today I was wrong, for I was about to lose my concentration in the flick of a wrist. Sure enough this happened when ‘he’ walked in the door. Everyone in

the room stopped and turned to see who had entered the room, and it was none other than Phoenix Arington. There was something about him that I couldn't quite place my finger on. He was just as quiet as I was sometimes, although he could be quite animated when he was around his stable group of friends. Phoenix was funny and quick minded, but he was also incredibly pensive for someone his age. I had never seen someone who could remain in a thoughtful state as long as Phoenix could. He wasn't a bookworm or anything, but he did well in his studies; he and I were almost on par. And to add to all of this, I knew Phoenix

did have one thing going for him, which was his undeniably pleasant beauty. With his caramel skin, with those dark brown eyes and long wavy black hair, he was almost too breathtaking. I had never called any guy beautiful before, but Phoenix was an exception, and truly worthy of the adjective. He quickly looked at Ms. Bennett, who gave him a stern eye, as he proceeded to walk to the back of the classroom sitting one

table behind Kaydence and myself. Kaydence looked at him and smiled, giving me a slight nudge.

'He's sitting right behind you,' she whispered with a small giggle.

I just pretended to shrug it off, 'I know.'

I briefly turned to look at him. Phoenix looked up from his bag with slightly raised black eyebrows, his dark brown eyes staring right in to my deep blue counterparts. My expression was just as still as his. Phoenix

almost looked like a little boy on his first day of school-at least that's what I saw in his eyes. Such innocence, it was . . .wonderful. 

"Ms. DeLandry," Ms. Bennett called. I spun around quickly to meet the teacher's gaze.

'Could you read the first few paragraphs for us please?'

I quickly opened my book and turned to the first chapter and began reading. It was never hard for me to do this; after all, this was my favorite class.

Click here to order this book available at Xlibris Bookstore, or contact:

Xlibris Corporation
0800-644-6988
www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk
orders@xlibrispublishing.co.uk

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Xlibris Book Trailer: Professor Darling

Walter John Trowbridge. Professor Darling. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-46918-937-6. 2012. Perfect Bound Softcover.

Jeffrey Davison is a prestigious but painfully shy professor at the University of California, Berkeley...

Who rescues a woman from a fatal car crash on the rugged coast highway...

Only to discover that the woman is famous movie star who only wants to use Jeffrey for his respectablity.

But when the young starlet mysteriously turns up dead...

Jeffrey finds himself the prime suspect.

Can he clear his name and reputation?

Find out in this new romantic thriller from author Walter John Trowbridge.

Original video via Youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQUvRldpgiE

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Xlibris Book Review: Badge

JoAnn Guidry. Badge. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-43635-181-2. 2008. Casebound Hardcover.

Overview:

Jack Briggs is a cop in trouble. The Houston Police Department’s smartest, toughest undercover narcotics cop. Briggs carries a chip on each shoulder and has always believed he was invincible. There’s a reason for that. Briggs survived an abusive childhood: it’s what gives him an edge on the streets. And it is on the streets, on the most dangerous undercover assignments that Briggs feels the most comfortable. For is here that he can make use of his own dark impulses, deal with his demons. Like the drug dealers he pursues, Briggs likes to play the game: going to the edge and looking over. But Briggs makes what may be a fatal mistake. He sleeps with the wrong woman. The consequences of that single act turn Briggs’ world upside down, send him down a path of revenge and redemption. As he tries to stop his freefall, Briggs has to stay one step ahead of a bad cop, take down a major drug dealer, and deceive the man who is the reason he became a cop. Suddenly Briggs finds himself battling to save his badge, his sanity, and ultimately, his very life.

Book Teaser:

1

The bar door suddenly swung open. Light from inside spilling out into the night
for a moment before the door slammed shut behind the two men. They stood there,
letting the cold air clear their heads. There was a full March moon and winter was
trying to hang on a little longer in Houston. But it had been a relatively mild Texas
winter; spring was taking over a little more each day.

The larger man of the two stuffed his hands in his leather jacket's pockets and
shivered. “I'll be glad when this cold crap is over,” he said, thinking maybe they
should go back inside and drink some more. But there was work to do.

It’s not so bad,” the other man said, zipping up his windbreaker. ‘At least we
don’t live in fuckin’ Minnesota. They’ll have snow there until May.”

The man in the leather jacket, who had a thick linebackers neck, looked over
at his drinking buddy. “What the fuck do you know about Minnesota? You ain’t
never been past Dallas, Jack."

Believe it or not, when I worked for Myers, I had to go to Minnesota and pick up
a load, ” Jack said. “It was some pretty good blow. Lived 03 that stuff for a long time.

The big man laughed. “Then you're gonna love the stuff that came in tonight,’
he said. “Because we’re all gonna get rich and fat of}. this stuff. It is the finest blow you will ever see in your fuckin’ lifetime.”

Jack grinned his eyes brightening. “Thats whatl like about you, Becker. Nothing
but the best for you.

“Damn straight, Jack,” Becker said, looking up and down the street. It was after
one a.m. and there wasn’t a soul around. "Come on, it’s time to get busy.”

Man, you’ve had too much to drink.” Jack watched as Becker began walking
away from him. "The cars not over there. It's back this way.”


-----------
[10]

Becker turned on his heels. “We don’t need the car, ” he said. “There’s a warehouse
we use down here when we get a special delivery. That’s why I wanted to come down
to this part of town tonight. Now, come on, we got people waiting on us.”

Jack felt his heartbeat quicken. Becker was finally going to let him in on a big
score. All the months of work were going to pay off. He hurried to fall in step with
Becker.

This is gonna be such a sweet, sweet deal,” Becker said as they strode briskly
down the lamp-lit street, past closed stores and older apartment buildings. He
scanned the surroundings, looking for just the right spot. “Sweet, sweet deal,” he
repeated, draping his burly arm around Jacks shoulders as they approached the alley.
That’s why it’s such a shame.”

Jack felt Becker’s gip on him tighten, pulling him against him. He started to
reach for the gun in the small of his back, knowing as he did that it was too late.

A fuckin’ shame that you’re a fuckin’ cop,’ Becker growled, turning into Jack
and thrusting the knife into his midsection; he put all of his weight against it and
twisted the blade. "A fuckin’ shame.”

Jack gasped. The pain was fire and ice at once. He tried to push away from
Becker, but suddenly found he had no strength left in him. His legs were buckling
beneath him; Becker was holding him up.

And now you’re a dead fuckin’ cop,” Becker spat, pulling the knife out and
slicing it across ]ack’s stomach, drawing a gush of blood, and then plunged it into
him again.

White-hot searing pain swept through Jack. He heard himself cry out as the
knife twisted. He tried again to break Beckers hold, managing to thrust a knee into
the big mans groin.

Enraged, Becker swung him into the alley and slammed him into the wall of the
building. Iacks head bounced off it, twice; it was as though someone was turning a
light switch off and on, dizzines and nausea swept over him. He slumped in Beckers
arms. Yanking the knife out, Becker Hung him to the ground.

Fuckin’ cop,” Becker cursed, kicking him; the toe of his boot going into the
knife wounds again and again.

Jack curled up, trying to protect himself. He groaned every time a kick landed
and the pain reached a new level. He tried no hold on, tried to believe he was going
to live through this. But it was useless. Becker was right. He was a dead cop. The
warm darkness swallowed him up.

Becker suddenly realized Jack wasn’t moving, had become silent. With his boot,
he rolled him over on his back. Jack didn’t make a sound. Blood had soaked through
the Windbreaker where he had cut him open. Squatting down, Becker unzipped the
jacket; the entire bottom half of lacks flannel shirt was dark with blood.

Reaching down, Becker unbuckled Jacks belt He had promised to do something
special to this cop. Just as he unzipped the jeans, a noise startled him and he spun around. A barking dog, getting closer. Standing up, he saw the animal coming down the alley now. Some kind of terrier. He gripped the knife and waited for it.

Click here to order this book available at Xlibris Bookstore, or contact:

Xlibris Corporation
www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk
+0800-056-3182
orders@xlibrispublishing.co.uk

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Inspiration for Writing – Part One

Notwithstanding how much you love to write, Xlibris knows there will always be times when inspiration will not come and frustration kicks in. Inspiration is the essential ingredient every author must have.  Every writer needs to be inspired to find that brilliant book within them. Inspiration can come from a plethora of sources. In this first of a series of articles written for our new Xlibris Writer’s Workshop, we will explore a few sources you may of thought of and/or use right now. If you don’t; great! If you do, let these tips act as a reminder.

Keep a notebook handy:

This is a must for anybody who wants to write. Jot down your thoughts as they occur, use it to record quotes, plot ideas, character references, snippets of good phrases and conversation. Then use it as a research tool for your writing.

Click here to continue reading Inspiration for Writing – Part One.

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Xlibris Book Review: From Thine Own Eyes

G. M. Manley. From Thine Own Eyes. Bloomington: Xlibris Publishing, ISBN 978-1-45007-339-4. 2010. Perfect Bound Softcover.

About the Author:

Gilda is a Native of South Carolina. Born in Lancaster County South Carolina, she was raised along the coastal region .Her natural instincts kicked in as an artist and writer by the age of ten, integrating the both in her creative art works. She began also singing at age 10 with the Washington Gospel Singers in Charleston. She continued singing and added classical and modern music to her repertoire. She completed college and began working as a special education teacher, singing only part-time as a hobby. Living along the coast of Charleston, she was inspired to engage creative energies from her surroundings to write Art has also Become her first love in that it allows her the ability to express herself. She envisions her images with a satire effect. The best way to take notice of the natural world is through the keen eyes of an artist and writer. Gilda M.Manley Studied undergraduate and graduate work in Education at Virginia Union University, the University of Delaware and the Citadel of Charleston.


Book Teaser:

I Had a Rose

I had a rose

That reminded me of you.

When you left

That rose

Fell apart.

Along with that rose

Came a broken heart.

When you come back

The pieces will

Come back together.

I guess you are

 

You're never coming back I guess!

Click here to order this book available at Xlibris Bookstore

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