Did you know, legend has it that Native American warriors carved desert roses when they returned from the spirit world?
*Desert roses are crystal clusters of baryte or gypsum that include sand grains and are shaped like roses.
Thanks for the meme, Janet.
The first Wednesday of every month is officially IWSG day. Members post about their doubts and fears, discuss struggles and triumphs, and offer words of encouragement to others who are struggling.
Thanks, as always, to Alex Cavanaugh, founder and Ninja Captain extraordinaire and our awesome co-hosts: Erika Beebe, PJ Colando, Tonja Drecker, Sadira Stone and Cathrina Constantine.
The IWSG monthly question can be found under the IWSG Sign-up tab on the
This was a fun YA fantasy series with a lot of snark and all kinds of interesting, supernatural characters. The author rocked the ending and took me totally by surprise. When I read it, the series was free, but always check before buying.
What always jumps out at me when I read this author's
stories is her world building. It's exceptionally well done and draws you deep
into the story. Her characters are also well-developed, making the reader feel
their hurts and enjoy their triumphs.
This book is no exception. It starts out with a young child that has a
unique ability that can have long lasting consequences not only for her
immediate surroundings, but the world outside it.
CATLING'S BANE is another well told tale that will have you flipping pages on your Kindle.
LORDS OF CHAOS by D. Wallace Peach
This last book wraps up the Unraveling the Veil saga of Naj, Alue and Talan quite nicely. I am now firmly in the D. Wallace Peach fan club. I highly recommend this series for fantasy readers and/or readers that just want to kick back with a well told tale.
I also read a couple of great arcs that I’m anxious to share information on.
Bank Fishing on the Tippecanoe
Fishing with my son on the muddy edges of the Tippecanoe,
Just above the slow bend where the Wabash swallows
The right of way whole. My son and I quietly twitch our bait
Above the small-mouth holes that lie on the river bottom
Along an inlet where the water swirls in upon itself
Momentarily spared from the all-compelling current
That commands the storm debris from upriver
And sends it rushing past us toward the greater
Powers that lay beyond the bend. We speak softly
And move slowly. Too much sound will alert the bass
That there is more waiting than a bit of food. A twitch,
A tug, and his line is moving. He plays the fish, waiting
For the right moment to set the hook. I feel my rod tip
And I let my line play out. Small-mouth fight hard for their size,
Aware of the consequences I suppose. We are exhilarated by
The fight. We land our fish, admire them briefly,
and send them back, watching as they dart off into the current
As we, landlocked as we are, watch them go.
I can still recall the tug on our lines, feel the cool river spray,
Hear the rush of the water’s flow, sense my son standing beside me
As we watch the two bass swim deep into the waters of the
Tippecanoe which will carry its venerable load
On to the Wabash, the Ohio, the Mississippi,
And the great oceans of the world.