From the Record Book of Aspen Darktower: Autumn’s Splendor


It has been a while since I have posted from Aspen’s diary. Today seemed like a great day to find an entry that fits. As some of you know, I have spent the last couple of months moving from one state to another. Here in my new home, the mountains above me are changing color and the canyon I drive through to work each day is showing signs that fall is here. It’s my favorite season. Not my nose’s favorite season, but I still love it. Happy Fall!

“Little Harbour is a pretty little place when I can step back and appreciate it for what it really is. This was freedom for a handful of people before my father was even born. It’s this small, heavily treed area next to the sea, set back in a slight cove of sorts.
This was where my father fell deeply in love with my mama, where the visions of his future with her took root. I sit here beneath a sweet smelling tree and close my eyes to the pain and frustration of being here and I try to imagine a time when my father smiled and spoke words of adoration to his Lyndsay. I try to hear the sound of her laughter and I wonder if she was as docile as a young woman as she was when I left her side. I like to think she had some sass to her, a mind all her own. 
And now, I shed my cloak of duty and see this place through child-like eyes where I can appreciate the unique colors of the leaves surrounding me: the gold and yellow hues, the reds, browns, and oranges that have dropped over all the leaves on the trees, as if the sprites had been hard at work painting a masterpiece for the world.
Here, beside the sea, there are few days of sunshine. But to feel that occasional beam on my face makes me smile and to breathe in that crisp, sweet air that blends with the brine of the sea, fills my body with comfort and hope before I puff it out in a cloud of smoke from my mouth.
The Autumn Splendor shows me that there is always hope. That all things are temporary. Everything changes constantly. I need to take comfort in that knowledge. It isn’t always easy, but it is beautiful.”

I have a handful of short stories that tell the tale of Aspen’s mother and father, long before she was born. I call these short readings “The Tales of Elgolan”. They are short supplemental readings that expand on a certain story from The Aspen Series. Right now, the first story in the “Tales” stories is available to you at no charge when you join my Lords and Ladies Club. This first installment is called “The Serpent Strikes” and is not available anywhere else, unless you buy the book from my publisher. 


I published the next story on Amazon last month, “The Devil’s Lair”. And today, “Brimstone’s Ashes” went live! There are two more installments about Vatric and Lyndsay to go! They will go live on the first of the next two months! All of the “Tales” stories, except #1 are only .99! This isn’t because they are crappy stories, it’s because they are shorter reads than a full novel. So pour a cup of tea and get lost in the dramatic “Tales of Elgolan” stories!



And on a side note, if you have not yet read Noble Courage, the first of the Aspen Series, you have a couple of options: A. Download from Smashwords for FREE or B. Download from Amazon for .99 (they refuse to match the free price for me, but they might for you). Either way, you get a full novel to read, to love, and to enjoy. I decided to price it lower because it was the first in the series and I love my readers. It’s a great adventure, in my own biased opinion, and I want EVERYONE to feel like they can enjoy it. So how can you give me some love? Read the books, leave me your thoughts, and be a part of my club. Members knew about the release of the “Tales” stories weeks before anyone else. I love to stay in touch with my biggest fans! And the greatest compliment to my work would be to share it with someone you know. Thanks for the love!


Harry Potter Fan Fiction: The Libby Archibald Chronicles Part 1

Libby Archibald

So I spent the last week watching the whole Harry Potter series again. I’ve probably seen it fifty times and I never tire of it. But I found out something this week… Harry Potter motivates me. He is a muse of sorts that encourages me to create and write. J.K. Rowling’s documentary makes me feel that my dreams are just as possible as hers were. That I’m just as ordinary and down to earth as she is and I’m just as deserving to watch my dreams become reality.

This week, magic happened. It’s funny how spending your time out of work with those characters can trick your mind into feeling like they are your close friends. You laugh with them, cry with them, you’re scared with them, and you love with them. And so I woke up yesterday feeling compelled to write myself into the amazing world of Harry Potter. I’ve never written any kind of fan fiction before, but I thought it was a lot of fun and I’m sure I will do more of it. I found it to be almost more therapeutic than writing my own stories in my own worlds. To escape to another world for a while is pure magic in itself. I felt just as lost through writing it as I would have being thrown into it. The few hours of make believe were very good for me today and the drinking of homemade Butterbeer set the mood. I’m sharing here because I can’t do much with it aside from blogging it. But I hope you can relate to Libby. I think most of us have a little Libby inside.

The Odd Brick Wall that isn’t a Brick Wall at all.

Life is a curious thing. Most of the time, when you most want something it never happens. Sometimes, it will surprise you and magic happens. There was such a time for Libby Archibald.

Summer was Libby’s favorite time of the year. Not because it was hot and ice cream was best eaten when it was hot, but because she could be outside and escape the confining walls of her house. Every year, the Archibald family traveled several hours to a special place in the mountains and it was here that Libby felt alive. The smell of the pine trees, the fresh air, and the sound of the lake lapping at the shore brought her a sense of peace. A whole year of fighting her way through life was kindly rewarded with one week in the small town of McCall.

And so Libby crossed the busy main street that ran close to the water, her family was lazing about on the warm, sandy beach or swimming in the shallow waters close to their vacation rental.

“Is it okay if I walk to get ice cream?” she had asked her parents. She was bored and they were occupied with spreading suntan lotion over their arms and legs.

“I suppose, Libby. Don’t be too long,” her mother sighed and laid herself out over the bold blue and white striped beach towel.

“Thanks, mom,” Libby replied and shoved her slender hand in the pocket of her pink capris to feel for her five dollar bill.

Now, she was walking beneath the eaves that cast the sidewalk in shadow. A breeze blowing in from the water made the shade feel cool as Libby made a left turn between the coffee shop and the souvenir store. It was a narrow passage partially blocked by a staircase in the alley and reminded her of some secret place. Starting down the short pathway, the gravel crunching beneath her flip flops, Libby took her time staring at the brick wall on the left, the names on all the bricks fascinating her. She always wanted to scratch her name on one too, but it appeared that all the bricks were used up with other names. There were several Makenzies and many Mikes but nowhere did she see her name.

That was one thing Libby really hated; her name was never found on anything but vegetable cans. Sometimes she wished her name was Sarah or Mary so she could be ordinary and fit in.

Two bigger kids, probably a girlfriend and a boyfriend, walked by with cups of the creamy goodness that only Ice Cream Alley could offer. As they passed, the boy’s elbow poked her just behind her ear and she rubbed at it furiously to ease the pain.

“Stupid kids. Why can’t they stay by their parents? They just get in the way,” the boy remarked and continued on his way.

Comments such as that one were not new to Libby. Being the oldest of the four children in a very strict household, she was often made an example to her siblings by her father. She was never right as it wasn’t a child’s right to be correct. It was the grown-up’s right to always be the smartest. Libby couldn’t wait to be an adult so she could move far away and be who she wanted to be.

Rounding the corner, there was a line of about ten people waiting to get their hands on the cold ice cream in nearly every flavor imaginable.

“I wish I was magic. I could make everyone disappear and it would be my turn,” she sighed taking her place at the end of the line.

Nearly every table was full of people, some in shorts and some in swimsuits, umbrellas were unfolded overhead for a bit of shade. There were a few small children sitting on a bench swing that were screeching in fun, ice cream rings surrounding their lips in the various colors of the flavors they chose. Their parents sat nearby, never saying a word, not telling them to be quiet…Libby could imagine how the veins would bulge out of her father’s forehead and neck because they were being so unruly. If that was her trying to have fun, he would have walked right up to her and thumped her in the back of her head or he might even grab those tiny hairs at the base of her neck and twist them enough to bring tears to her eyes and force her to just sit quietly. That’s when he liked her the most; when she was silent and still.

It was the pleasure she felt in these moments, when she was by herself and could breathe without fear of wrongdoing. Yes, these moments made it all worth while. It was time away from her very annoying family, it was time away from the horrid kids at school that teased her mercilessly, and it was time spent getting to know who she really was.

You see, Libby was shy and quite backward. She didn’t like to talk out of fear of being incorrect. Some viewed this as rude. For Libby, it was a defense mechanism. It was safe just to be quiet. Rarely could you get Libby to make eye contact with you because she knew others would see the story she held behind her eyes that had recently changed from light blue to a beautiful shade of green. This girl was down right skinny with knobby knees and elbows and crooked teeth. She sported dark brown hair with a hint of red that her mother kept short in a most embarrassing “wedge” style. Libby would look at her sister with the pretty blonde strands that flowed perfectly to her shoulders and felt jealousy that Adrianna looked like a girl and she herself looked like a boy. It wasn’t fair.

The kids at school were cruel and asked her why she looked like a boy. They poked such fun at her expense when she spent time with her friends that were girls, that Libby stopped making friends at all. In time, even her old friends started calling her a name that brought tears to her eyes every time. Monkey Girl was what they would chant behind her during the walk home from school. Granted, Libby was cursed with hairy arms and legs that her mother said she would grow out of. But Libby hated it and

would wear longer pants and shirts with sleeves all year round just to conceal it. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop the taunting and if she ran from the kids, they would run after her shouting “Monkey Girl, Monkey Girl” all the louder.

Absently, Libby ran her hands over her arms self-consciously and stepped forward in the line. It was almost her turn. She could almost feel the icy goodness running down her throat. It was getting hot.

An odd place on the brick wall stood out to Libby. She hadn’t ever noticed it before on their many visits to Ice Cream Alley. The bricks were arranged in a different pattern and the cement was thicker around them. All the people, it seemed, never looked up and saw it. They just went on as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Like they were blind to the different pattern. Or perhaps they just didn’t care that it was odd. Libby wondered a moment why the wall got no attention for being odd but she got more than her share. Where was the justice in that?

“What can I get started for you?” the girl behind the whitewashed counter asked snapping Libby from her thoughts about the wall.

Shyly, Libby stepped forward and barely peered over the counter, she was so short for her thirteen years. “Um, a single scoop of Rocky Road in a cup, please.” She handed over her five dollars and the girl handed her back some change.

“It will be ready around the corner, thank you!” the employee said, motioning her along to the other side of the small building that looked more like a lemonade stand than an ice cream shop.

Libby sauntered around the corner to wait for her delightful concoction of chocolate, almonds, and marshmallows. A couple behind her at a smaller table stood up to leave and so she decided to take that place for herself. It was almost directly below the imperfect bricks she had noticed just moments before.

Another gal bellowed out that the Rocky Road was up so Libby hurriedly grabbed it, a spoon and a napkin, returning to the table she had claimed. Her eyes closed as the heavenly explosion happened in her mouth as the first bite of some of the best Rocky Road ice cream danced on her tastebuds. It was smooth and cold, the marshmallows were fluffy on her tongue.

She gave a slight grin and reopened her eyes. She scanned the crowd for her father before she picked up a pebble and tossed it up to hit the rebellious pattern in the brick wall. Missing her target, she tried again and her pebble found one of the lower bricks. She gave a chuckle and grabbed an arsenal of rocks throwing them one at a time, each connecting solidly.

Libby was just about to throw another when she noticed the wall starting to move. She sat upright in her chair and stared in disbelief as the wall began to rip open and she could see a room on the other side. Libby tore her eyes from the sight and glanced around to see if anyone else was witnessing this incredible phenomenon. No one was paying attention. No one cared. They were all absorbed in their own world, laughing, joking, and enjoying each other’s company. No, no one was watching Libby and the ripped open brick wall.

Cautiously, she stood and walked the four steps to the opening where she peered inside. No one in the dingy room ahead seemed to notice her either. It was dark in there with weathered wood walls, plank floors and lanterns for lights. There was no music and tones felt hushed without stepping foot in there. Casting a quick backward glance, her heart beating wildly in her chest, Libby took a chance. For the first time in her young life, she stepped forward out of everything she had ever known and stepped into a world so foreign it frightened her.

Once both feet were firmly planted in the strange place on the other side of the bricks, the wall knitted itself back together until it was just as before. Libby quickly turned and placed her hands on the wall, pressing and tapping to find that opening…but there wasn’t one. It was solid. There was nowhere to go but forward.

Libby slowly turned around and tried to slow her breathing. She forced herself to swallow hard and soaked up her surroundings. The room looked to be a restaurant or a bar of some kind with several tables and chairs and a long bar area with a large man standing behind the counter, a white apron tied around his waist and a towel thrown over his shoulder. There were a few people at tables and as she walked through the small establishment, she saw three young people talking quietly at a table in the corner. From their hairstyles, she guessed it was two boys and a girl. All had dark clothes on, coats of sorts with hoods. One had dark disheveled hair, one bright red that stood out, and the girl looked to have frizzy hair that fell just past her shoulders.

The dark headed boy happened to cast his glance beyond his red-headed friend before him and he narrowed his eyes behind round spectacles to look right at Libby. He muttered something and stood, the other two twisting in their seats looking on curiously.

“I recognize that look,” he smiled at Libby.

“What?” she asked, confused. “Where am I?”

“This is The Leaky Cauldron. My name is Harry, this is Ron and Hermione. What is your name?” he asked.

Libby licked her lips, her knees shaking, and said, “Libby. I’m Libby Archibald.”

“Nice to meet you, Libby. You have the same look on your face I did a couple of years ago. It’s a lot to take in all at once. Come sit down and we’ll talk about it,” Harry said motioning to the empty seat at the table.

Not knowing what else to do, Libby sat and Hermione went to order one more Butterbeer for their table.

“Are you a muggle?” Ron blurted out.

Libby’s head snapped to stare at the boy with red hair. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a-a muggle… What is that?”

“A muggle is a person who can’t do magic. They don’t see magic and they rarely feel it. They are just ordinary people in a boring world,” Harry explained.

Libby nodded her head. “Yes, that is me. I’m a muggle. Boring person in a boring world,” she breathed.

“How do you know? That you’re a muggle, I mean. How do you know?” Harry asked her.

“Well because everyone knows there is no such thing as magic, Harry. That is what makes up storybooks and movies. And Disneyland. Disneyland is pretty magical, I think, but I’ve never been there. I’ve only seen pictures, you see…” Libby rambled on.

Ron and Harry looked at each other and grinned.

“So you think you are not magical because other people told you so?” Harry asked her. “I mean, why would you listen to boring people who can’t see anything that’s right in front of them? Why would you trust those kind of people to tell you who you are?” Harry asked her.

Libby sat silent a moment, not sure how to explain to this boy that magic was just fantasy…make believe. She was just Libby. So she decided to change the subject. “Can you please tell me where I am?”

“This is The Leaky Cauldron. It’s part of Diagon Alley,” Hermione piped in as she set the frothy mug of Butterbeer on the table. “You are very…bright. You stand out quite a lot.” She rummaged through a bag on the floor and came away with a dark bundle of fabric. “This should help you.”

Libby unfolded the gift and discovered that it was the same kind of cloak the others were wearing. As she flung it around her shoulders, it was easy to notice that Hermione was right. Her pink pants and yellow shirt with pink stars were like sunshine in a cave. She definitely looked out of place…a misfit. The funny thing about it was that she looked like everyone else in her own world and was treated like the outcast. Here in a completely foreign world, she looked like the misfit but was treated like she was the same as everyone else.

“Thank you, Hermione,” Libby said with a shy smile. “I-I…Forgive me, but I have no idea where Diagon Alley is. I’ve never heard of it. One minute I was eating ice cream and the next there was a huge hole in the wall that brought me here. Why am I here?”

Hermione smiled warmly. “Well, I can tell you aren’t from anywhere close to London so the only explanation is that you are magical. I don’t think the portal would have opened for you any other way. Muggles can’t see the openings nor can they see the wizarding world. They don’t see anything really. So how old are you?”

“I just turned thirteen. I am going into middle school this year,” Libby explained.

An awkward silence wound around the four young people and they all grabbed their mugs to gulp at the sweet, frothy Butterbeer.

“So now that I’m here, what do I do? Can I get back home?”

“I’m sure there is a way, but we need to find someone like Hagrid or maybe your dad, Ron, to help us. This is a most curious situation.” Harry said.

A girl ran in, catching her breath she placed her hands on her knees. Her bright red hair and light complexion told Libby she belonged to Ron’s family. “Ron, mum wants you.”

Ron turned around in his chair. “What does she want, Ginny?”

Ginny stood upright and squinted her eyes at him. “I don’t know, she just told me to come get you! Who’s that?” she asked, her eyes widening again when she saw Libby.

Harry stood up, tugging on Libby’s elbow. “Ginny, this is Libby Archibald. Libby, meet Ron’s sister Ginny. You are both the same age.”

“Good to meet you,” Ginny smiled before turning her gaze back to her brother. “Come on, Ron! Best not keep mum waiting!”

“Right,” Ron mumbled and gulped the rest of his drink, wiping the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry ’bout this, I gotta go.”

They all said their goodbyes to Ron and Ginny and made to set off in search of someone who could give them some answers.

Virtual Birthday Bash: Day 6- The Key of the Kingdom Sneak Peek!


So it’s the last day of the birthday celebration! Thank you to all of you that spent the week with Aspen and I! You made it quite a fun event! You have until the clock strikes midnight to get your entries in on all the Facebook games!

Okay, I promised a sneak peek of this last book. I have been working on it but still have a ways to go. War is brewing and lives are changing! Here you go!

Frog shrieked again as loud as his lungs would scream and tried with all his might to remove his hand from the rope holding him. “I did it for my wife…and for my son! Please don’t!” he sobbed.

“What of them?” Thorne queried. “What do they have to do with you delivering that message?”

Frog’s head fell back to rest on the chair, the tears still streaming down his face. “I gave it to you so that they would live! He is always watching you!”

Thorne lowered the hammer to his side. “Dracul ransomed your family for this message to be delivered? If that is true, I can guarantee you that your wife and son are dead. Dracul never bargains…not even with his own.”

New tears washed over Frog’s face. “I cannot believe you. My master cares for those who are faithful to him. Please let me go to them! Allow me to show you that you are wrong.

“Glade, take men with you and bring the village within the gates to ensure their safety…if it isn’t too late for them already. I have a feeling that this was all a diversion. Jackal, I want Valliant and Miquel to join us as we escort Frog to his home and alert our closest allies. Choose a rider to dispatch for Foxglove Pass and River’s Bend. The time has come, my friends. Our greatest foe is making his move,” Thorne said. “Have Stewart come and tend to this man’s hand. He can take us to his wife and son and either he will prove his point or I will prove mine. Glade, I am leaving my family in your hands. Make sure they follow the plans precisely. I will hold you responsible for them.”

There was a moment when time froze. No one could breathe, no one could think. They all just needed a moment to digest what had been ordered.

Thorne dropped the mallet to the ground. “Gents, we must move now. There isn’t much time.”

And with that, the men departed leaving Frog tied and crying with the pain of one crushed hand and the relief of his good hand spared.

Thorne veered to a hallway less traveled and took a moment to catch his breath against the cold stone wall. He felt sick, like the walls were moving and his insides were boiling and he was sweating as one does just before they lose their stomach. He had intentionally wounded another soul, villain or not, and he hated himself.

“You are no better than that scoundrel St. Michael,” he whispered to himself.

“Father, are you alright?” Dalen exclaimed and scuffled to Thorne’s side.

“I’m fine, my boy. I’m fine. Listen to me closely. Take your mother and brothers and Mira to the secret place with a bite of food and stay there until I retrieve you. Do you understand?”

Dalen’s face paled and he nodded. “This is it, isn’t it?”

Thorne wiped the perspiration from his face and stood on his feet again. “It could be. I must go with a man who is with the enemy to stop all this.”

“Father, that was not the plan. You are to be with us also. We are to survive this together!” Dalen reminded him.

“Shhh…I will be fine. But you must promise me to keep your mother in hiding for she is terrible at obeying orders. I need you both to stay alive at all costs. Now obey me and get everyone to safety,” Thorne said pulling his son’s body into an embrace. “These times make men out of boys, Dalen. Don’t stray from the plan. Don’t be like me in this one instance, please.”

Thorne could feel his son shake and heard him sniff loudly. Dalen nodded in his arms and both fought the tears that threatened them.

“She told me this day would come. She has been preparing me for it since I can remember,” Dalen whispered sadly.

“I will return. Those dreams your mother has cannot possibly be full of truth. We have the power to change them so do not fret.”

Thorne pushed Dalen away from him and watched the lad hurry off to gather the family together.

“Today is not my day to die,” Thorne said aloud, his voice echoing through the hallway.

The sun was high in the sky when Frog had been produced by the Doctor Love. The villain’s hand was bound thickly and hung in a sling. A cart was brought into the bailey and Thorne signaled his men to climb in. “Make sure he can’t jump and escape,” he added before hopping up next to Jackal, who was driving the team.

Glade sat beside Frog, a dagger poised at the man’s throat, and demanded he tell them where his home was located. Frog swallowed hard against being torn between life and death. Thorne shouted above the noise of the cart bumping down the road for the location.

“Please just tell him, Frog. I was where you are now except I was barely clinging to life. His lordship is a good man but he is protecting his family as you are. He will not kill them and I believe he will spare you if you are honest,” Glade recounted.

Frog’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he gave the easterly command to Rosehill. Glade pulled back just a notch, as though he hadn’t heard correctly, and relayed the information to Thorne. His lordship whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes as he visibly contemplated the danger that could lie ahead. Sauren most likely had no idea he had been infiltrated by the enemy.

“How many of you are stationed there as spies and henchmen?” Glade asked knowing Thorne would want to know.

“Just me and my family. Marriage was not allowed in my master’s camps. I fell in love with a woman while in a place called Foxglove Pass and we ran. We felt we had disappeared from his reach. We were married and had a son before Dracul found us. He tied ropes around the neck of my wife and son, pulling them off the ground using the beams of the rafters in our home. Desperate to save them, I agreed to do anything he asked of me. I don’t want to die, but if I must so my family can live, I will gladly give it up,” Frog replied grimly.

“Was there ever a man with Dracul with light blonde hair and blue eyes? Might be his General?” Thorne asked twisting in his seat.

“Nay. I never saw him. Dracul’s general looks just as he does. It is my belief that he is a son,” Frog answered honestly.

Thorne nodded in understanding and swiveled back to face forward, his eyes scanning the sides of the road for signs of a trap.

Time felt as though it had passed so slowly, the trip to Rosehill feeling like it was taking longer than usual. But they finally rounded the bend in the road where the village could be seen. There was a large black cloud of smoke from an outer area close to the wall that surrounded the village.

Frog sat up, tears brimming in his eyes, as he beheld the site. “No, no, no, no…please God.”

Thorne knew his thoughts were correct. As soon as Frog had been dispatched, Dracul had done away with the wife and son and burned the home.

“The devil will be close, be on the offensive!” Thorne warned.

The gates of Rosehill had been closed once the fire erupted and several riders and thundered away on steeds of great size. They allowed Thorne entry and Frog pointed wordlessly in the direction of the billowing black cloud on their left.

Jackal pulled the horses to a stop and Thorne jumped from the cart dashing to the small house that was burning, his men close behind, and Glade with Frog bringing up the rear. The pungent smell of burning things made them all cough.

Jackal grabbed Thorne’s tunic and shouted for him to stay out of the croft. Thorne hesitated a moment but when he heard Frog’s cries of grief, he ran through the flames and into the structure. There, tied to chairs at the dining table, were two charred figures slightly slumped in posture. One was tall and slight, the other was obviously a small child.

“Quick! Get them out! Put them in the cart! We need to get to the keep!” Thorne shouted above the snapping of the flames.

Valiant cut the bonds of the victims and with Glade’s help, they carried them to the cart. Jackal shoved Thorne out the doorway and Miquel escorted Frog out into the clean air. All the men were coughing, their eyes stinging, but they guarded themselves against an ambush as they sped off to the castle in the heart of the village.

Frog’s cries of anguish could be heard over the rumbling of the wheels over the dirt roads. The man kept pawing at Miquel and Glade to get to the remains of his family. Thorne couldn’t help but think of what was happening at his own home. Was it all a part of the plan to lure himself out of the castle with his best men to leave the rest unproperly protected? And if every soul in his village perished, would they find Aspen and the children? Would he return home to find them charred and tied to their dining chairs? A shudder stole through him at the awful visual that filled his mind.

Pulling up to the keep where Sauren and Marissa resided with their beautiful daughter. Thorne could see Sauren exit the castle as the cart eased into the courtyard, an inquisitive expression clouding his features.

“What is going on, my lord?” Sauren called out as Thorne jumped lightly to the ground.

Thorne held out his hand for a quick shake in friendship. “We don’t have time to stand out here and explain. I need to see you within the safety of your home. These are my men and our hostage.”

Sauren motioned them to the door and no one said a word until they were safe within the confines of the modest study. All the men filtered in and took seats where they were available, leaving Thorne to sit before Sauren’s desk.

“Will you please tell me what is happening, my lord?” Sauren inquired sounding impatient.

Thorne reeled back as if he was dodging a blow. “Do you have something more important happening?”

Sauren lightened his mood sensing his lord’s foul disposition. “No, no, of course not, my lord. You have merely piqued my interest. I’m concerned about the secrecy and we’ve talked about attack plans in years past. Naturally, I’m worried.”

“Well, I have reason to believe that the time is near…if it isn’t this very day. Our-well, that man is called Frog and he lived in your village.”

“Has he done you wrong? Am I to punish him accordingly as his lord?” Sauren asked not understanding at all.

“Nay. He was sent to me to dispatch a message and we captured him. What we found out is that he tried to escape the reach of Dracul. We’ve spoken of him before. However, Frog here was betrayed by that villain. It is time to gather the men. I require all you can spare on the morrow,” Thorne explained further.

Sauren sat back in his chair. “Are you sure that is wise? What about the people here. Are they not entitled to the same protections as your people?”

“Sauren, it is true that no one is safe right now. Dracul was here in your own village long enough to slay Frog’s family and burn his home.” Frog began to sob once again from a tall backed chair next to the fireplace. “I feel that Marissa and Farrin should be in Cliffehaven where all the troops will be gathered. It will be the best place for them to hide. Farrin is partially my responsibility.”

“She is not, with all due respect, my lord. She is my responsibility. I do not want her in Cliffehaven. I will send you all the men I can spare and still keep her safe here,” Sauren said firmly while shaking his head.


He jumped to his feet then and slammed his hands down on the desk top. “I said no, my lord! Forgive my outburst but I told you that you cannot have my daughter just yet!”

Thorne slowly stood and held his ground. “You listen to me. Dracul might know everything about your castle right now. If Frog could live among you for all these years, so could any of his henchmen. Any one of your servants could be his spy! If I was going to attack a village such as mine, I would need a place to strategize and a man like him is not going to inhabit an abandoned shack! He is going to want your home! I have an army! My family knows the protocol for going into hiding. I have the best trained men coming to join our ranks and will outnumber your men even if you all stay here. There is no other place to be right now!”

“And I would rather die with my family than die alone, my lord. I’m sorry.”

“But your daughter is matched with my son. My eldest son…my heir. She is very important to my line, therefore, I feel the need to protect her far better than you ever could. Send them to us, Sauren. I’m not asking your permission. It is how it needs to be,” Thorne argued.

Sauren shook his head wildly to the negative. “We cannot agree.”

Thorne’s anger and frustration took over. He leaned over the desk and fired the look of death. “I really don’t care that we don’t agree. I am now ordering you to send Farrin to Cliffehaven.”

Sauren stared Thorne straight in the eyes. “You are no longer my superior, Earl Darktower. I care not about anything you say. I have tolerated you thus far. But I will not give you my only child…yet. She is not of age to marry so you have no right to her. Get out.”

“I had thought you a smart man, Sauren. Clearly you are as brainless as your father! Start planning your funerals, choose your burial sites, because you are not immune to this foe! He will kill you and drink your blood before he enjoys your women and then give them over to his followers before he kills them and drinks their blood too! You don’t understand what he is all about! If I leave here, do not ask me for another thing as long as you live. I will not come to your aid later, mark my words!” Thorne stormed. He stalked from the room and called for his men to follow.

The sun was nearly blinding when they emerged from the castle. Thorne told Jackal to load everyone up. Sauren stood in the open doorway, most likely to be sure Thorne left. There was a light whistle in the air, the kind that made Thorne instinctively duck. There was a scream, brief but loud.

“Frog was hit!” Glade shouted. “My lord! We must leave now!”

Thorne lifted his head to spy the horror on Sauren’s face. He looked to the back of the cart to see Frog lying there with an arrow protruding from his chest. His body took shallow breaths that were doing him no good. Thorne jumped into the back of the cart and took Frog’s healthy hand.

“Easy there, Frog. We will get you to a physician.”

“My lord…” Frog whispered, “You are a good man. He hates you for that.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Frog. I wish I could take that moment back,” Thorne apologized.

There was a slight gurgling sound from the struck man before his hand went limp and he let out a long, tired sigh. Thorne pressed his forehead to Frog’s fingers. Tears pricked at his eyes.

“My lord! We must be off!” Glade pressed.

Thorne raised his head in Sauren’s direction. “Dracul does this to his own men! What do you think he will do to you and your family?”

Jackal slapped the reins and the team raced off. Glade kept his sword drawn and screamed at Thorne to lie down.

Sauren watched the cart ramble off in a cloud of dust and sighed. Turning around, he allowed the door to close securely behind him, leaving him once again in the shadows. He told himself that he was glad Darktower had left but there was an ugly feeling in his gut. He wasn’t sure what to do.

“You performed well, Sauren, second son of the king,” came a voice in the hallway.

It took Sauren’s eyes a moment to find the dark figure that belonged to that voice. “Thank you, your grace,” he said shakily.

Dracul emerged from the dining hall doorway. Sauren could see his teeth in the low light, gleaming like pearls in the dark yet they were actually yellow in the light. Just the sound of the man’s breath made Sauren quake with fear. He did not trust the man one bit and he worried for his wife and daughter. But what could be done?

“I’m impressed that you swayed the obstinate Darktower as quickly as you did. You do indeed know how to get under his skin. It was delightful,” Dracul breathed.

If you missed the tour, you can catch up!

Day 1: Noble Courage Spotlight

Character Interview: Thorne Darktower

Day 2: Price of Power Spotlight

Character Interview: Rayven st. Michael

Day 3: Tears of Penance Spotlight

Character Interview: King Rothan

Day 4: Salvation of the Forgotten Spotlight

Character Interview: AspenTiller

Day 5: The Benevolent Light Spotlight

Bonus Character Interview: Cappy

The Elusive Interview with Cappy

photo from

I asked what character interviews readers were still craving after I had done the other four. Several readers said they wanted to read more about Cappy. I thought this would be a fun time to track down the mighty warrior and gather his thoughts. Enjoy!

I was born into a large family as the 5th out of 7 children, I was the second son with five sisters. My homeland was beautiful, the highland areas far north from Cliffehaven. Our meager croft sat close to the sea among the black cliffs. I can still remember the smell of the salty brine melded with the sweetness of the long green grass and the earthy scent of the animals on our land. 


photo grom


My brother and I fought with each other early on. Never did we see eye to eye. My sisters were always about the domestic chores of keeping house. I was a misfit and I knew it. Life changed drastically for me when a foreign man killed my mother and tried to take my sisters with him. My father was sowing seeds that day and I was playing out in the dirt with my slingshot. My brother was chopping wood for the fire. He just screamed and cried as our mother was attached, her throat slit from ear to ear. I was perhaps a lad of eight years.

Seeing my brother react the way he did made a fire burn inside of me. I shot my dear mother’s attacker square between the eyes and dropped him to his knees and it took him a moment to shake off the effects of that pebble. He looked around, not sure where it came from, I’m sure. One look at my angry, ruddy face gave me away. I ran to the barn. I ran faster than I ever had in my life and the man followed me. 

I knew right where my father kept a sword buried in the hay. The man burst in behind me, his forehead showing a berry red mark where I’d hit him. He cursed me and spat on the ground in his fury. I placed the loft ladder between him and I. He reached between the rungs and grabbed my tunic…a whole fistful. I bent backward to free myself and my hand reached for the hay. He jerked me hard against the ladder and I stuck him in the gut with my poorly crafted weapon.

I knew in that moment that I would protect people from men like that. In the night, once we had buried my mother, I left my home by the sea and wandered. 

I learned a whole new book of wisdom in my years of living off the land to survive and avoiding the evil that plagues the world. I happened upon the tired village of Cliffehaven and I inquired of a position in the guard under the Earl Devlin Darktower. 


photo from


Quickly, I rose in the ranks and became the captain just months before Rosehill attacked. All the memories of the death of my mother flooded me and I was angry that kin was advancing on kin. But I failed to protect my lord and he perished needlessly. 

It was a miracle that young Thorne survived. He had always held a special place in my heart. Never could he say my given name correctly and it’s not important what that name even is. He called me Cappy out of affection and so that’s what I became.

However, after the trauma of the boy’s family dying in that battle, he grew violent and angry. I suppose I saw myself mirrored in his actions. Having grown and matured some, I tried to pull him under my wing. But he was insistent that he needed to be as his father had been…or his perception of how Devlin had lived. It wasn’t right. 

It took many years for an angel to be sent to his lordship. She was as precious and beautiful as Thorne was dark and terrible. And with all things, there can be no darkness in the presence of light. And it was no different for Thorne. She blinded him with her goodness while others plotted against her to remove the lady from Thorne’s company. 

I’d like to feel that one day my death would mean something. That I would leave behind enough of myself to matter and make a difference in such turbulent times.

Virtual Birthday Bash: Day 5!


I hope you are having fun with the virtual birthday bash! It’s been fun to revisit the books in The Aspen Series and it means a lot that you are joining in the fun. Thank you for being a part of it!

Today, my dear friend and author, Cynthia Hepner is hosting the stop for today. Please visit the Book Barn for her feelings on the Aspen Series and a spotlight on The Benevolent Light!

Catch up with the fun in Facebook too! There are games daily with fun prizes! All winners will be chosen via a live drawing once the event is over! 

You can read up on all the other stops so far!

Day1: Noble Courage Spotlight

Character Interview: Thorne Darktower

Day 2: Price of Power Spotlight

Character Interview: Rayven St. Michael

Day 3: Tears of Penance Spotlight

Character Interview: King Rothan

Day 4: Salvation of the Forgotten

Character Interview: Aspen Tiller

Duchess of Cliffehaven: Lady Aspen Darktower

Cast Dungeon

Aspen is such an amazing woman. She starts her journey as the girl I used to be…shy, backward, and submissive. And as my mind opened up, she grew wings and emerged from her cocoon as the leader I wish I was. But what makes her all the better is that she has faults and makes mistakes…just like you and I. She is real. She is very tangible. She will be your best friend. She will always be mine.

Here’s the interview of Aspen Darktower…Have fun with this read!

Virtual Birthday Bash: Day 4!


The day has arrived! 

It is officially Aspen’s birthday…and mine too. Haha! It’s going to be a great day!!


You know, Aspen has been with me through so much. But she was born from a cancer scare when I was in my mid-twenties. Yes, a loooong time ago. She’s pretty much my best friend. More than anything else, she has given me hope.

Needless to say, what started out as a simple bucket list project has fueled a passion that screams to come out of me just about every single day. And one word at a time, one sentence at a time, one chapter at a time, and one book at a time, I have built up my series to be an amazing legacy. It’s not smut (even though that sells), it doesn’t entertain silly characters, and it has a grounding sense of reality throughout the many pages of five full books. 

So, today Noble Courage is free on the Kindle Store. Take just a moment and go grab it! 

But what I do want to touch on is Salvation of the Forgotten. This one is book four in the series. It is in this book that plague finds the unsuspecting people of Shadowed Meadow and the Darktowers are right in its path. How do you spend your final moments? If you knew death was breathing down your neck, how would you face that fate? When I was faced with the possibility of a bad kind of cancer, it did amazing things to my mind. There were lists of wishes and wants that formulated over the days that I spent waiting for results. I can only imagine what it would feel like to know that you would probably not make it two weeks. 

Salvation of the Forgotten is a great book of power and strength…taking back control of one’s life and moving forward. And I just love it when unknown people of various talents grace your life. They are truly all around us. There are some of these people in this book. 

Well, I’m willing to donate my work for the opportunity to forge new fans. Please take advantage of the promo! And as always, I appreciate you reading!

Catch up on the tour!

Day 1: Noble Courage Spotlight

Day 2: Price of Power Spotlight

Day 3: Tears of Penance Spotlight

And tomorrow will be my good friend, Cynthia Hepner! She will be spotlighting The Benevolent Light! Don’t miss it!

We are still having fun with Facebook games too! Come join the fun!!