Friday, January 29, 2021

BOOK: Bentley Square by Carol Ann Kauffman


Bentley Square
by Carol Ann Kauffman


Strangers meet on the train. She, a beautiful, wealthy businesswoman. He, a down on his luck office manager. They have nothing in common. And yet, they are drawn to each other with an undeniable hypnotic magnetism. This is the story of Rebecca Robbins, daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the country and Mark Ramsay, a man shrouded in dark mystery and hiding in the shadows from death squads amid international intrigue.

Writers, like parents, aren't supposed to have favorites and I think I've probably said each of my books is my favorite at one time or another. That said, there is something about Bentley Square  that is still so special to me. If you haven't read it, give it a chance.


Here is an excerpt:



Chapter One 

Probably a Shoe Salesman

 

 

Becca sat in her usual reserved compartment window seat on the train into the city that morning.  She watched the throngs of people waiting, waiting for transportation into the big city, waiting for a way out of their hard, dismal lives, waiting for a miracle.  The closer the train got to the city of Skylar, the sadder they looked, the shabbier they dressed, and the more hopeless they appeared. 

She looked for him, still in the hopeful, gainfully-employed, trying to make a living group, in a brown suit, white shirt, dark tie, neat, clean, well-groomed.  Not the most handsome man she’d ever seen, not even the best looking guy at the train station, but there was just something about him she found completely mesmerizing.  Something inside her came alive when she saw him.  Her heart leaped.  He made her smile.  She wanted to run to him, hug him, cover him with kisses, and feel his strong, loving arms wrapped around her.   

Eyes forward, neither a smile nor a frown.  Neither the dejected, forlorn type you want to flee from, nor the overly happy, deliriously optimistic sort you want to shake back to reality.  He was aware of his environment, ever watchful, cautious, and controlled.   

He was there waiting for the train every morning.  She imagined his life.  He was probably about thirty, a father of one beautiful child, an adorable little girl who had her Daddy’s eyes, with a pretty stay-at-home wife who fussed over him and called him Darling.   He probably worked at one of the many shoe stores downtown, was a very good salesman, and had a good sense of humor.  She bet he had a great smile when he chose to give in and let it out.  He was a kind man with a very gentle soul.  He had tons of friends, but not much family, if any.  He carried the heavy weight of responsibility and he didn’t own a weapon, didn’t like guns or violence.  He drank too much and ate too little.  His name was probably…oh, maybe, Richard.

Oh, there he was!  Good morning, Richard, you sweet thing, she said to herself.  Hmm, this morning there was a distinct frown line in the middle of that sweet forehead.  She wanted to kiss it away.  Richard was worried about something today.  What was it, a sick child?  Yes, that was it.  What a good daddy he was.  Don’t worry, Richard, she’ll be okay.

 

“Rebecca, did you get a chance to look at my proposal for the Miller Building?” said Douglas Ellers, catching her attention, but disturbing her daydream.  She looked back.  Richard was gone.  Damn, back to reality.

“Yes, Doug, nice work.  I’d like to run it passed my father, if you don’t mind, and see what he thinks.”

“Thank you, Rebecca,” he smiled and nodded.   Getting his proposal looked at by Carlton Robbins was a big step.  The fact that his daughter Rebecca brought it to his attention would give it even more credence.

The train pulled in to Skylar Central Station.  Rebecca gathered her things.  Douglas waited for her and the two walked to Bentley Square, the tallest building in the city, Carlton Robbins’ building.

 

“Good morning, Miss Robbins.  Your father is looking for you,” her secretary Grace DeCapito said as she handed her a copy of today’s agenda.  “Preferably before the personnel meeting.”

“Thank you, Gracie.  How’s he looking this morning?”

“Good.  Strong.  Axe-happy,” said a worried Grace.  Rebecca laughed.

“I’ll calm him down before the meeting.  Don’t worry, Gracie.  Heads won’t roll today, I promise,” she assured.  Grace nodded.

“Becca!”  He father lit up when she walked in the room.  “I’ve missed you!  Did you have a good weekend in the country with Marisa and her family?”  They hugged.  She kissed his forehead with a loud “Mwah!”

“Ah, it was just wonderful!  It’s so calm and green, pleasant, and outdoorsy,” she giggled.  “Her family is fine.  We did quite a bit of hiking and horseback riding, because Marisa’s still reeling from the bad breakup with Todd.”

“Todd.  Todd.  Is he the architect or the concert pianist?”

“Neither, Dad.  Todd is the astrophysicist.  Being out in nature helps her get her emotions in perspective.   She’ll be okay.  She asked about you.  Come with me next time.  It’s positively rejuvenating.  Really.  You need a break from all this paperwork and desk stuff, Dad.”

“No, thank you.  Getting lost in the woods, getting eaten up by mosquitoes, or falling off a horse doesn’t sound like my idea of a great way to relax.  Watching the financial channel with a glass of red wine works for me.  And besides, Marisa’s mother is always trying to fix me up with some lonely old lady from her Bridge Club.”

“Dad!  Those women are wonderful, have you ever met them?  They’re hilarious and mentally razor-sharp!  They’re amazing!  You could use an evening of female companionship with a woman in your age bracket.”

“Okay, maybe to the weekend in the country, but absolutely no to the old lady date.  I’ll come with you if you’ll agree to let Marisa to fix you up with one of her friends.  She dates highly qualified men.”

“Highly qualified for what?  Marisa is seduced by what these guys do for a living, not who they are on the inside.  She wants to be Mrs. Concert Pianist, or Mrs. Astronaut.  They’re arrogant.  They’re way too full of themselves.  I want… nice.”
     “Re-examine that, Becca.  Most women think a nice man is dull and boring, and they much prefer a dark, brooding, mysterious, exciting bad boy.”

“No, not me,” she giggled.  “I want nice.”  

“I’m sure some of Marisa’s horrible vain boyfriends have nice friends.  Not all astrophysicists are vain, arrogant, unfaithful bastards.  Ah, this meeting, Becca, are you ready to make some staff cuts?”    

“No, Dad!  Let’s try some other measures first.  I have a few notes.  Just listen to what I have to say at the meeting before you start axing people.”

“I’m thinking about laying them off,” he laughed.  “I’m not going to murder them.  Sometimes, good business demands lay offs.  If we combine offices, it will be more efficient.  Just think of it!  We’ll get to be together all day long!  I have terrific views of the city, the best in the building, the best access to the inside elevator, and my secretary is wonderful, extremely efficient, and highly qualified.”

“And so is my secretary!  I won’t lose Gracie without a fight, Dad.”

“But Adele has plenty of time to do whatever you need done.  And she’s quiet!”

“As I see it, Dad, the problem isn’t choosing to merge our two offices together and eliminating Gracie, among others.  It’s finding more projects for Adele to do.  I like Adele, and I know she’s been with you since the dawn of time itself.  But, Gracie, I swear, she can read my mind!”

“In the business world, that’s not always a good thing, Honey.  And Becca, Grace’s too chatty, and a little bit too familiar with you.”

“That’s because she’s been reading my mind!  I’m not losing her, Dad.  You may lay her off as my secretary, I’ll only hire her back in some other capacity, like my research assistant, or my computer technician.”  She smiled at him and nodded. 

“Coffee?” She handed him a cup of coffee with milk, two sugars, not too hot, and in his favorite mug, just the way he liked it.

“Mmm.  Perfect,” he nodded.

“Douglas Ellers had a few thoughts on what we could do with the Miller Building.  I think you should look it over. Medical offices, physical therapy center with a heated pool.  A small restaurant, a candy shop, a medical supply store, and a small independent drug store.”

“Woo-hoo!  A senior citizen’s paradise.  Ellers, Ellers, do I know him?”

“Yes, Dad.  He’s been here for almost six months.  He came from Dayton.  His father is a friend of Dan Colby’s, that’s why you hired him.”

“Yes, I remember him now.  Quiet kid, smiley, nods a lot.  Short guy, dark curly hair, thick glasses.  

Given any more thought about the Comstock Apartment Building?  Becca, that old monstrosity needs to come down.”

“I think about the Comstock quite a bit.  And it’s not a monstrosity.  It’s very beautiful.  It’s an architectural masterpiece.  It’s steeped in city history.  I love that old place.  Just last Saturday I stopped in on my way home from work.  I went in and walked around the lobby looking at the moldings, the fretwork, the ornate keyholes on the mailboxes, oh, its just beautiful, Dad.  It has such a warm feeling inside.  It made my heart race.  It needs a little work, yes, but it’s still a gem of a building.  

And what’s going to happen to the people living there?  They’re hard working people, Dad.  And they’re making next to nothing, they can barely make ends meet.  Where will they go?”

“Becca, don’t start this bleeding heart liberal crap with me.  ‘El Monstro’ is coming down.  They’ll find some other hole in the wall to live in.  How is that good-looking CPA Darren Taylor from dinner last week?”

“Boring.  Plastic.  Uses more hairspray than I do.  Robotic.  Fake smile.  Don’t like him.  Don’t like him at all.”

“Good family, though.  The Taylors are good people, Becca.”

“Dad, stop.  Let’s go to the staff meeting.  I prefer to fight one battle at a time and the boring, plastic Darren Taylor isn’t even in the top ten this morning.”

 

The staff meeting went as she had hoped and her father agreed to her proposal.  She was busy the rest of the day, hammering out some of the details to make it work.  Her father popped his head in at five o’clock.

“Becca, don’t take the train home tonight.  Knock off early and ride home with me.  Celebrate your victory.  You work too hard.  Gunther is waiting outside.  We could stop for ice cream on the way home and ruin our dinner.  What do you say?  Come on!”

“Mmm”

“Chocolate cashew?”  He knew it was one of he favorites.

“Oh, my!”  She thought about it.

“Or caramel mocha swirl?” he said.  “Or… both?”  She smiled at him.

“Sounds extremely tempting.  But I have some more details to work out on this job-saving plan, Dad.  And I don’t mind the train.  Actually, I LIKE the train.  It gives me a chance to decompress.  And my car is at Lockwood Station.”

“I can always send the boys to pick up your car.  But it’s your call.  See you tonight.”

“Dad?”

“Yes, Becca?”

“No more surprise dinner guest fix-me ups!  It really kills my appetite.”

“No promises, kiddo.  Your body clock is ticking.  And so is mine.  See you later,” he winked.  She groaned.

“Do I have to stop at Taco Bell on the way home to get a stress-free dinner?” she yelled as he walked down the hallway.  He waved.

 

Rebecca walked to the train station and got into her reserved compartment.  She breathed a sigh.  What a good day!  Fourteen office jobs saved, including her priceless Gracie’s.  Of course, they’d be sharing pencils and staplers and writing notes on their palms from now until next Christmas.  But they could do it.  They WOULD do it.  She was deep in thought.  She didn’t notice someone watching her.

 

He watched for her every evening.  It was the highlight of his day, his reward for surviving another day with Mr. Fusco, the minion of Satan.  She was a breath of fresh air, a ray of sunshine in his dark world.  His woman.  Blonde, lovely, but it wasn’t her classic good looks that made him take notice.  He’d seen other beautiful women, and not one of them ever affected him like she did.  It was something else, something he couldn’t describe.  It drew him to her.  His pulse quickened.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her.  He knew her.  He knew if she just looked up at him, she would recognize him, too.  He had the overpowering urge to rush to her every time he saw her, calling out her name.  Just to hold her in his arms, hug her, squeeze her.  That’s all he wanted.  Just once. 

And just once is all he would get before she’d file a restraining order against him, he thought, she would think he were a crazy man, and he’d never get anywhere near her ever again.  So he kept his distance.  One just doesn’t go around hugging people one meets at the train station, unless, of course, one is trying to lift their wallets and can run really fast. 

       





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Thursday, January 28, 2021

ENTERTAINMENT: Mirage NETFLIX











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Wednesday, January 27, 2021

INTERVIEW: British Fantasy Author Julie Elizabeth Powell

 

Julie Elizabeth Powell

England, United Kingdom

 


Welcome to Vision and Verse, the site for Art and Authors and the people who love them. Can you tell us a little about what you've written?


I have written numerous books in various genres and lengths.  I prefer fantasy because I can break so many rules and make it up as I go.  However, I like to challenge my writing and I’d become bored if I didn’t try other genres.  I write for adults and children, but I have to be true to what I like rather than cater for fashion /popularity.  

 


Here is a list of my stories so far –

Gone

Slings & Arrows (Non-Fiction)

Changing Angels 

A Murderer’s Heart

Of Sound Mind

Misadventures Of Fatwoman

Dirty Business

13

Lost Shadows

Maisie

Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive One

Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Two

Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Three

Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Four

Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Five

Whispers In The Tower (short story)

Heaven (short story)

Christmas Past (short story)

Three Into One (short story)

Yule Spirits (short story)

The Box That Jane Built (collection four short stories)

Figments (short story /poetry collection)

Expressions (short story /poetry collection)

The Puzzling Brain Of Martha Tidberry (short story)

There Was An Old Woman (short story with bonus The Ballad Of Theodore English)

Impulse (collection of crime stories)

Shades (collection of paranormal stories)

Star Bright (collection of fantasy /science-fiction stories)

 

And for children:

The Star Realm (book one of the Avalon Trilogy)

Invasion (book two of the Avalon Trilogy)

Secrets of the Ice (book three of the Avalon Trilogy)

Knowing Jack

The Fairy In The Tale (short story)

 

That is quite the list. You are an inspiration to me to keep on going. What is your favorite genre to write?


Fantasy; although, I enjoy writing paranormal, post-apocalyptic, horror, humour, crime thrillers and anything that takes my fancy.  I have written one non-fiction (Slings & Arrows) which deals with what happened to my daughter, Samantha.  Gone is the fantasy that tackles that same event and is an attempt to answer a haunting question.

 



Favorite food.


My favourite food is dark chocolate though I really love broccoli, so I’m not all bad.

 

 

Tea or coffee?


Camomile tea.

 

 


Pizza or ice cream?


Ice-cream, preferably chocolate.

 

 


Wine or beer?


Neither, I don’t drink alcohol.

 


 

I'm going to have to change that question, or add soda, sauerkraut juice, and water to the list. Where would you like to visit?


Stratford-upon-Avon, Shakespeare country; we’d intended to go hopefully, next year (2021) but, sadly, my husband died in June (not of the virus).

 


I'm so sorry to hear that, Julie. Our sincere condolences at the loss of 

your husband. Life is short. To quote Jimmy Buffet in Volcano: You 

better lova me now, or lova me not. I think it was lava, not lova. 

Speaking of music, who is your favorite musical artist?  


I like all kinds of music so it’s difficult to choose one artist.  My tastes range from classical to 1960s and the occasional modern.  My all-time favourite song is Over The Rainbow, sung by Eva Cassidy.

 

Yes. That one always gets to me, too. Do you listen to music when you write?  

What?


No.  I can only write in silence.

 



 Me, too. I've got enough voices in my head when I'm writing without having background noise. What makes you laugh?


My husband used to make me laugh every day.  I laugh at silly things like the Minions and Michael McIntyre (English comedian), I enjoy silly jokes and clever puns; certainly irony.

 

 

This is an art and author blog, so I am obligated to ask: Favorite work of art or sculpture.

 

I always admire the talent of artists in all manner forms, from the classics (like Michelangelo’s statue of David) to sand and ice sculptures and cleverly formed ‘oddness /humour’ that is placed around the world.  My favourite painter is Claude Monet.

 

 

How old were you when you started writing?

 

I dabbled in writing as a child but it wasn’t until much later that I took it seriously.  My first whole novel was Gone, it written in answer to the question that haunted me over the seventeen years of waiting for my daughter, Samantha, to die for the second time – Where had she gone?  Because, although her body was still here, who she’d been had been wiped clean, thus not knowing me or anything except pain.  When she was two, Samantha’s heart stopped and she died, but she was revived too late and suffered severe brain damage.  Her life was one of suffering and pain until she was nineteen when she finally slipped into peace.  I wrote Gone as one answer to that question.

 


Again, sweetie, I'm sorry to hear about Samantha. Do you plan out your book with outlines and notecards? Or just write?

 

I usually just write, though occasionally, I jot down notes to remind me of specific things I should remember.  Depending upon the book, I do research – the Internet can be useful for that as libraries don’t have the information I need.  When I wrote 13 (horror), one of my characters was a hit man, so I needed to find out certain things, for example, guns and poison – goodness knows what others would think if I’d been monitored.  

 

 

Describe your perfect evening.


Evenings used to be watching TV with hubby and enjoying being together.  At night I’d read in bed on my Kindle.  I more or less do the same and remember my perfect company.

 

 

 

Where do you get your inspiration?

Inspiration can come from anywhere and anything.  Gone, I’ve explained and with Slings & Arrows there’s an obvious reason.  Knowing Jack was inspired by my son, whose insight into the world is unique.  The Avalon Trilogy came from the world I’d created in Gone, the story (for a younger readership, though for anyone young at heart) grew so big, I had to divide it into three; one of the characters, Darcy (a wonderfully funny and caring character) was influenced by my eldest daughter.  Misadventures Of Fatwoman was motivated by my personal battles within a world that does not accept anyone who is not ‘perfect’.  The crime thrillers came to me in a dream, as did the short story The Puzzling Brain Of Martha Tidberry.  Many of my stories come from dreams.  Of Sound Mind and Maisie came from my curiosity about the brain and how it works or doesn’t work.  Though Maisie is connected to Of Sound Mind because it carries on the story and the idea that Maisie is blind makes for even more intrigue.  Lost Shadows is also about the brain, this time dealing with memory and what makes us who we are – definitely encouraged by what happened to Samantha.  Changing Angels, written for my late husband, is my most recent, which was inspired by our lives.  I am so glad he managed to read it before he died. Many have a fantasy twist because that way it could have more sense. 

 

 

What do you do when you get a writer's block?


I don’t believe in writer’s block.  Having said that, since my husband died I haven’t been able to write – not because the words or ideas aren’t there, but when I begin to write, my brain becomes overwhelmed and I have to stop.  Perhaps things will improve in time.  At least I can still read, and I do, many, many books, the reason being that it uses a different part of the brain, I think.  And, of course, reading is vital to any writer’s armoury.  

 

 

I agree. I always wonder about writers who tell me that are too busy to read. Who is your favorite author?

 

Apart from me?  Ha!  Dean Koontz is my favourite because his writing is great, his ideas are intriguing and there is a sense of hope.  I do like Stephen King, though his stories don’t seem to have hope.  I admit to enjoying the Harry Potter series. Overall, I tend to read from the independent pool of writers because many don’t follow the rules or formulas and therefore far more interesting.  In addition, I like to support other independent authors.  I review all the books I read.

 

 

Best book you ever read.

 

What a difficult question!  I suppose ‘one’ of the best is The Chrysalids by John Wyndham.  I read it decades ago and it still makes me think about how humans hate difference so much.  Fantastic story. 

 

 

Last book you read.


Dream of Dragons by Morgan Rice – I’m lucky enough to be on the advanced reviewer list so I get them for free, which is brilliant, with funds being so low.  I enjoy all of Morgan Rice’s work, which is fantasy.   

 

 

What would you do for a living if you weren’t a writer?


I’m considered an OAP in England and live on a pension.  I’ve never been able to make money from writing.  I don’t have the funds for advertising so try using social media and hope.  I’ve had all kinds of jobs but none as satisfying as writing, even if there’s no money to be made.  

 

 

Who is the one person who has influenced your personal life the most and why?


Not just one.  My dad has a huge influence, who taught me that working hard and doing the right thing was the only way to live.  I agree with the sentiments, despite knowing that hard work and doing the right thing (which I do) may not actually get you what you want.  Although my husband died in June (2020), he was the best thing to happen to me and his legacy of love for me is the sweetest thing.  We only had eleven years together, but they were unforgettable.  My children, too, have guided my way of thinking and I am very proud of my remaining two.  As for Samantha, what a courageous bundle she was, so intelligent and loving until she died the first time, definitely impacted my outlook on life and, unfortunately, not necessarily for the better.  I hope she is now at peace.

 

 

If you could sit down and have a conversation with ONE person, living or dead, real or fictional, who would it be and why?

 

My husband, Trevor, to ask him if he was happy and had he met Samantha yet.  And to tell him to be there waiting for me when my time comes, like he did at the airport eleven years ago.

 

 

What advice would you give someone who aspired to be a writer?

 

If you wish to write, do it.  Read.  Learn as much as you can about the craft and yourself – why do you want to do this?  Be honest.  Don’t pander to fashion or formula.  Enjoy it!

 

 

Do you have some links for us to follow you?

 

Website - http://julizpow.wix.com/julieelizabethpowell

Twitter – http://twitter.com/starjewelz

Amazon UK page - http://goo.gl/XK8TOj

Amazon USA page - http://goo.gl/cT0DCK

GOODREADS - https://goo.gl/DcTSOO

FB page 1 - https://www.facebook.com/julieelizabethpowellsbooks

FB page 2 - https://www.facebook.com/GoneByJulieElizabethPowell

LULU - http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/julizpow

BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/julie-elizabeth-powell




You are an inspiration to us all, Julie. I'm glad you took time out of your busy writing schedule to interview with us this morning. We at Vision and Verse wish you continued success in all your endeavors. 








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Tuesday, January 26, 2021

BOOK REVIEW: Love & Murder in Savannah by Harper Lin





Love & Murder in Savannah by Harper Lin is the story of a young woman in Savannah in the 1920s. She likes to dance and drink bathtub gin, oh, and she sees and converses with ghosts. The characters are colorful and entertaining. The plot starts light and happy, then turns dark and a bit scary. Good read.

Sunday, January 24, 2021

SCHEDULE: Jan. 25 - 29, 2021


 Mon., Jan. 25 - ART:
Snake Dance by E.A. Burbank
at Butler Museum of American Art
Tues., Jan. 26 - BOOK REVIEW:
Love and Murder in Savannah
by Harper Lin
Wed., Jan. 27 - INTERVIEW:
British Fantasy Author
Julie Elizabeth Powell
Thurs., Jan. 28 - ENTERTAINMENT:
Mirage (Netflix)
Fri., Jan. 29 - BOOK:
Bentley Square
by Carol Ann Kauffman





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