Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts

07 February 2016

Author Interview & Book Giveaway: JOSEPHINE MONTGOMERY on FITZGERALD HALL

This week, we're pleased to welcome author JOSEPHINE MONTGOMERY with her latest release,  FITZGERALD HALL, set in the 7th and 21st centuries. One lucky visitor will get a free ebook copy of Fitzgerald Hall - this giveaway is open internationallyBe sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

An historical fiction adventure charts a course from southern California to the magnificent Fitzgerald estate located in southern England where archeologists discover a 7th-century bed burial grave in Fitzgerald Hall meadows. Valeska, an Anglo-Saxon teenager, is unable to join her ancestors in the next world; she knows if her bones are removed from the burial bed grave, and archeologists take them to a laboratory for study, she can never join her spirit family. It will take the co-operation of people in the 21st century and there isn’t much time. Valeska needs someone to see and believe in her spirit that appears by the baptismal font, in the Anglo-Saxon church in Fitzgerald village, between Winter Solstice, around the 21st December through December 30th.

An Anglo-Saxon poem in Fitzgerald Hall library reads,
Did the sword of Wulfhere strike the blow
  That echoes through the meadows still.
  Eternity won’t settle scores
  When brothers of my tribe they kill.
 The graves and barrows of our land
  Are filled with men who did not fight

 The cowards killed us in our beds
 We’ll vanquish them come solstice night.

Q&A with Josephine Montgomery

An Anglo Saxon teen burial in an ornamental bed is an unusual subject, was it difficult to write?

I love of archeology and history and if I am inspired by an archeological discovery my imagination takes flight. The research can a lot take time because I base my stories on available, researched fact. The extraordinary 7th century discovery in Trumpington Meadows, England, offered unique insights into the origins of English Christianity.

What information did the archeologists discover from the bed burial?

Bed burials were a very limited Anglo-Saxon practice in the mid to later 7th century. The girl, aged around 16, was buried on a beautiful, ornamental bed with a pectoral Christian cross on her chest; it was probably sewn onto her clothing. The cross, fashioned from gold, was intricately set with cut garnets; the artifact dates this grave to be the very early years of the English church, probably between 650 and 680 AD. To be buried in this elaborate way, with such a valuable artifact, tells us the girl was undoubtedly high status or even royalty.

Where does the story take place?

It begins in San Diego, USA where three girls, university students, two American, one British, share a house. Chloe, the Brit, has no concept of domestic duties which doesn’t sit well with Anna the neat-nick. They accept Chloe’s offer to spend Christmas with her family in England, a chauffeur picks them up at London Heathrow airport and drives to Fitzgerald Hall, one of England’s Great Houses. The American girls soon realize why Chloe is inept at domestic chores, she has never done any. Emily and Anna had a challenging time adapting to life with the privileged, wet bath towels were left on the floor for the house maid to pick up, their beds were made, everyone dressed for dinner and it wasn’t done to thank the servants. As Lady Fitzgerald mentioned, ‘Servants are people too, but only on their days off.’  At dinner Anna and Emily meet two male British aristocrats, Chloe’s cousins, and so, from the 21st century to the 7th century, an extraordinary journey begins that will change the American girls lives forever.

As a Brit. how challenging was it to write from the perspective of American students in California?

Not too difficult, I lived in both Northern and Southern California. Also, my granddaughter, from London, England, was an exchange student in the USA and stayed with us during university holidays, along with her American student friend. I had to make sure when writing American dialogue that I did not use long, enunciated English words that are part of the vocabulary of the Upper Classes.

Does this book stand alone and do you have another book planned?

No, I am currently finishing my third book in the Fitzgerald Hall trilogy. I studied written and spoken Arabic at Amman University in Jordan and have traveled the Middle East extensively and may write my next book set in Egypt in the time of the Heretic Pharaoh, Akhenaten. 

Learn more about author Josephine Montgomery


Fitzgerald Hall draws on the British writer’s knowledge of the nobility and class structure in England and their struggles to keep the Great Houses of England from falling into ruin. Living and working in both Northern and Southern California heightens the writer’s awareness of the difference between England’s class structure and the California lifestyle.

04 February 2016

Excerpt Thursday: FITZGERALD HALL by JOSEPHINE MONTGOMERY

This week, we're pleased to welcome author JOSEPHINE MONTGOMERY with her latest release,  FITZGERALD HALL, set in the 7th and 21st centuries. Join us again on Sunday for an author interview, with more details about the story behind the story. One lucky visitor will get a free ebook copy of Fitzgerald Hall - this giveaway is open internationallyBe sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's post or Sunday's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

An historical fiction adventure charts a course from southern California to the magnificent Fitzgerald estate located in southern England where archeologists discover a 7th-century bed burial grave in Fitzgerald Hall meadows. Valeska, an Anglo-Saxon teenager, is unable to join her ancestors in the next world; she knows if her bones are removed from the burial bed grave, and archeologists take them to a laboratory for study, she can never join her spirit family. It will take the co-operation of people in the 21st century and there isn’t much time. Valeska needs someone to see and believe in her spirit that appears by the baptismal font, in the Anglo-Saxon church in Fitzgerald village, between Winter Solstice, around the 21st December through December 30th.

An Anglo-Saxon poem in Fitzgerald Hall library reads,
 
Did the sword of Wulfhere strike the blow
  That echoes through the meadows still.
 
  Eternity won’t settle scores
  When brothers of my tribe they kill.
 
 The graves and barrows of our land
  Are filled with men who did not fight

 The cowards killed us in our beds
 We’ll vanquish them come solstice night.

**An Excerpt from FITZGERALD HALL**

Chapter One
WHAT TO DO ABOUT CHLOE

“Chloe, there’s underwear and a wet towel on the bathroom floor again.”
     “Sorry, Anna, I’ll get them later, I’m drying my hair.”
     Anna glanced around the living room, her eyes fell on the coffee table, “and pick up the remains of your late night snack please, Chloe. That girl’s a slob,” said Anna slamming Emily’s car door shut.
     “Give her time she is trying,” said Emily backing her car down the driveway.
     “How much learning do you need to hang up a bath towel, it’s like living with a four year old, pick this up put that away? Chloe is lucky I haven’t strangled her with one of her long vowels,” said Anna.
     “They all talk like that, Anna”
     “What?”
     “She’s British they all talk funny, I like listening to her,” said Emily.
     “And so do all the guys,” snapped Anna.
     “We could ask her to give us elocution lessons,” said Emily laughing.
     “No thanks,” said Anna, “we might turn in to American slobs with a British accent.”
     “I’m working at the Chinese restaurant after class, I’ll bring take-a-way for dinner and we can decide what to do about Chloe,” said Emily.
      Anna had finished setting the table for dinner when she heard Emily’s car door slam. Chloe’s lack of the most basic house-keeping skills were a constant source of irritation to Anna, a decision had to be made, renew the lease on the house or look for an inexpensive apartment for two.
       “I’ve warmed serving dishes and set the dining room table,” said Anna, “let’s eat, I’m starving.”
     Emily watched Anna carefully empty the food containers into warmed dishes and carry them into the dining room where chopsticks, serving spoons and napkins were neatly laid out on a white tablecloth. Chinese food tastes better when eaten from take-out cartons, thought Emily, preferably sitting on the floor around a coffee table.
     “It’s obvious Chloe really gets on your nerves,” said Emily after dinner, “but we can’t afford a nice house like this without her rent money.”      
     “I know,” said Anna, “Chloe pays her share of expenses on time and if she uses the last of anything she always replaces it. I like Chloe, she has a great sense of humor and is a genuinely nice person, but it’s her ability to live in total chaos that drives me nuts.”
     “Maybe her Mom waited on her hand and foot,” said Emily and that’s why she hasn’t a clue how to cook, dust, use the vacuum cleaner or do laundry. Remember St. Patrick’s Day when you asked her to chop up the cabbage and cook it?”
         “I’ll never forget it,” said Anna, “that was the first time I’d eaten boiled lettuce and ham, I guess in the fridge iceberg lettuce does resemble cabbage.”
     Their laughter was interrupted by the insistent ring of the doorbell.
     “That’s Chloe, she’s forgotten her key again, at least it isn’t one o’clock in the morning,” said Anna.
     “Sorry, forgot my key,” said Chloe. “The restaurant gave me a blueberry cheesecake it’s a bit squashed so they couldn’t use it, let’s sit round the coffee table and eat while we discuss our plans for Christmas. If you two aren’t going home for the holidays I have a suggestion.”
     Chloe flung her coat over the back of a chair, kicked off her shoes in different directions and put the cheesecake on the coffee table, Anna winced as blueberries slid off the serving knife and fell in squishy, purple blobs over the glass topped table. 
     I hope Chloe doesn’t suggest we all stay home and cook Christmas dinner, thought Emily, Anna’s nerves couldn’t stand the mess.
     “My suggestion is we all go to the Mission and help serve Christmas dinner to the less fortunate,” said Anna.
     “That’s a really nice idea, Anna, but I was hoping you and Emily would accept an invitation to my home in England.”
     “England,” said Emily, “we’re American university students we can’t afford the airfare to England, we’d starve if we didn’t work part time in restaurants and bring home leftovers.”
     “You wouldn’t have to buy a ticket, I have enough frequent flier miles for all of us if we travel coach class. Think about it and let me know tomorrow, I need to phone Mother if you decide to accept. I’m off to bed the restaurant was really busy tonight.”
     Emily and Anna looked at each other in disbelief.
     “What do you think Anna, should we accept?”
      “I’m not sure, we don’t know anything about Chloe’s family, she always changes the subject when we ask questions,” said Emily. “I’ve read that some people in England still live in little brick houses with a toilet at the end of the yard. Maybe Chloe swept floors with a broom and that’s why she never learned to use a vacuum cleaner.”
     “You’ve read too many historical novels,” said Anna. “We can’t tell her we don’t want to live with her because she’s too messy and then accept a free trip to England.”
     “Let’s sleep on it,” said Emily, we’ll decide tomorrow.”
     Two weeks later the girls were packing to spend Christmas in England.
     “I’ve just spoken with Mother,” Chloe shouted from her bedroom, “it’s snowing and it looks like we’ll have a white Christmas in England.”
     “I don’t have snowy weather clothes,” Anna called back.
     “Neither do I, said Emily, we’re California beach girls.”
      “Don’t worry about it,” said Chloe, “pack a couple of casual outfits, Mother will provide the rest. Oh, I nearly forgot, she asked if you would mind sharing a bedroom, it’s a bit small but we’ll have a full house this year.”
     “A little room, Mother will provide clothing,” whispered Anna, “we’ll probably be sleeping in the attic and tramping around in snow wearing Mother’s old flowery frocks. What have we got ourselves into?”

Amazon US   
Amazon UK   

Learn more about author Josephine Montgomery


Fitzgerald Hall draws on the British writer’s knowledge of the nobility and class structure in England and their struggles to keep the Great Houses of England from falling into ruin. Living and working in both Northern and Southern California heightens the writer’s awareness of the difference between England’s class structure and the California lifestyle.

23 August 2015

Author Interview & Book Giveaway: Steve Lindahl on WHITE HORSE REGRESSION

This week, we're pleased to welcome author STEVE LINDAHL with his latest novel, WHITE HORSE REGRESSIONS. The author will offer one free copy of White Horse Regressions to a lucky visitor.  Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's post or Sunday's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

Hannah Hersman is haunted by horrific nightmares of Paige Stackman, her murdered lover. With the police investigation at a dead end, Hannah takes the unusual step of calling Glen Wiley, a regression therapist. Glen sends her back into her past life memories where they discover a cycle of violence and death they must break.
The sessions reveal that Glen and Hannah shared a life in Victorian London during which they knew Annie Chapman, whose gruesome murder by Jack the Ripper was similar to the fate Paige suffered. They find that the crime has repeated itself through the ages. The search for answers requires that Glen send Hannah back further, to a life she lived in China during the Han dynasty, where the cycle began.
Through the use of past life memories the novel covers three time periods, all involving backstage theater settings and the show people who inhabit them: a community theater in present time Vermont, a traveling circus in Victorian London, and a puppet theater in China during the Han Dynasty. The London scenes weave facts from the Ripper murders into the novel's plot while the scenes in China include facts from the story of the two monks who brought Buddhism up from India and changed the history of the world.
Glen and Hannah journey into the memories of their past lives to solve a murder that has been committed in their current existence and stop murders destined to happen after their deaths. In the process they learn about evil, love, and the eternal nature of the human soul.

**Q&A with Steve Lindahl**

Your work is historical fiction, but with a different slant. Can you tell us about that?

My books are past life mysteries, where a crime has occurred and a hypnotist is called in to find clues by looking at events from past lives. This process involves looking into memories that take place in distant places and times. The memories are seen through the point of view of characters who share souls with the people who are hypnotized.

White Horse Regressions begins with the murder of an actress in present day Springfield, Vermont. The victim's lover, Hannah Hersman, calls in a hypnotist, Glen Wiley, who sends her back – first to Victorian London then to China during the Han Dynasty. Past life memories are an excellent device for mixing historical fiction with a current plot, resulting in stories that work like time travel stories, but without the conflict caused by accidental changes to history.

Researching the people and settings of nineteenth century England then switching to Han Dynasty (first century) China was challenging and fun. I mixed real characters such as Annie Chapman, one of Jack the Ripper's victims and Emperor Ming, the emperor who introduced Buddhism to China, with fictional characters. To do so I had to get the facts right about the historical figures and ensure that the fictional people fit.

Where does the title White Horse Regressions come from?

The White Horse Temple is the first Buddhist Temple in China and a critical setting in the novel. But there are references to white horses throughout the book. There is a cult-like group that has functioned in all the incarnations. They use toy horses, horse stamps on packages, and real horses to identify and unify their group.

The dictionary definition of a regression is “the act of going back to a previous place or state.” A past life regression occurs when the memories of a former incarnation are brought out, generally with the aid of a regression therapist. I put these two concepts together to produce what I believe is a catchy title.

Did you choose to write about reincarnation because you believe in past lives?
I believe our souls are eternal and I accept reincarnation as one possibility. I have participated in past life regressions with some, limited success. But my interest is focused on writing novels. Part of that process is accepting whatever beliefs my characters have.

I choose to write historical fiction with a spiritual perspective that is broad. In Motherless Soul, my first novel, one of the main characters is a Presbyterian minister. She incorporates what she learns into her own faith and expresses her belief.

Today, more than a billion people profess a belief in reincarnation. It was once a part of accepted doctrine among early Christians, specifically the Gnostics. But my books are more about history, mystery, and relationships between characters than they are about a single religious belief.

What books and authors have influenced you the most?

The Doomsday Book by Connie Willis probably influenced my writing the most. It is a time-travel story that sends a young woman back to England during the plague years and is a wonderful example of historical fiction within another story. In that case, the book is set in the future (2054) and goes back to the past. Other writers who have influenced me include: Jodi Picoult, Gail Godwin, Chris Bohjalian, and Leo Tolstoy.

Sometimes books influence me in ways that have nothing to do with my writing. For example, I discovered a character while reading The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks who lived for a time in New Jersey. That character never explored the lakes in NJ, even though he had loved water in his native North Carolina. I followed the same path in the opposite direction. I was raised on a lake in New Jersey and now live in North Carolina. I always missed the lake, so, after reading the novel, I decided to look around. Now, weather permitting, I go kayaking a few times each week.

Did you learn anything from writing your book? If so, what was it?

At times, research can be almost as much fun as writing. I loved learning about both Victorian London and ancient China. If I have to pick a favorite topic, I'd say I found the introduction of Buddhism to China and the story of the monks, She Moteng and Zhu Falan to be the most fascinating.

But I always learn from my characters and in this book Hannah Hersman had a lot to teach me about relationships with friends as well as lovers. She also taught me about shedding fear to get more out of life. I have missed her a great deal since I finished writing White Horse Regressions.


About the Author

20 August 2015

Excerpt Thursday: WHITE HORSE REGRESSIONS by Steve Lindahl

This week, we're pleased to welcome author STEVE LINDAHL with his latest novel, WHITE HORSE REGRESSIONS. Join us again on Sunday for an author interview, with more details about the story behind the story. The author will offer one free copy of White Horse Regressions to a lucky visitor.  Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's post or Sunday's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.


Hannah Hersman is haunted by horrific nightmares of Paige Stackman, her murdered lover. With the police investigation at a dead end, Hannah takes the unusual step of calling Glen Wiley, a regression therapist. Glen sends her back into her past life memories where they discover a cycle of violence and death they must break.
The sessions reveal that Glen and Hannah shared a life in Victorian London during which they knew Annie Chapman, whose gruesome murder by Jack the Ripper was similar to the fate Paige suffered. They find that the crime has repeated itself through the ages. The search for answers requires that Glen send Hannah back further, to a life she lived in China during the Han dynasty, where the cycle began.
Through the use of past life memories the novel covers three time periods, all involving backstage theater settings and the show people who inhabit them: a community theater in present time Vermont, a traveling circus in Victorian London, and a puppet theater in China during the Han Dynasty. The London scenes weave facts from the Ripper murders into the novel's plot while the scenes in China include facts from the story of the two monks who brought Buddhism up from India and changed the history of the world.
Glen and Hannah journey into the memories of their past lives to solve a murder that has been committed in their current existence and stop murders destined to happen after their deaths. In the process they learn about evil, love, and the eternal nature of the human soul.

**An Excerpt from White Horse Regressions**

Sometimes Kao Si was jealous of Kao Hui because her daughter was too young to work. What a life, she thought, sleeping all day while her mother carries her on her back. Kao Si would never admit her feelings to her husband. He would call her lazy. Everyone woke at sunrise and worked outside until it was dark. That’s just the way it was. Unless there was rain. It was nice when there was rain.
There was none that day, but there was something else that stopped their work. Shortly before the noon break, two men arrived. They were riding on white horses with many tablets and small statues tied behind the saddles of the animals. They both had dark skin and wide eyes so they must have come from a far away place where people look different.
Kao Si’s husband, Kao Jin, put down his hoe and approached the men.
“Welcome. We rarely get visitors out this far in the country. What brings you our way?”
“This is She Moteng,” the taller one said. “And I am Zhu Falan. We are on a long journey, bringing sacred texts to Emperor Ming of Luoyang.”
“Are you hungry? We can’t let travelers pass without offering a meal. My family was about to stop for our noon break. This is my wife, Kao Si with our daughter who is called Kao Hui.”
Kao Si bowed as low as she could. She wanted to say welcome, but she didn’t speak because she did not want to seem too forward. The men were dressed in patched robes that had been dyed yellow-orange. Their clothing along with the way they had spoken of sacred texts told her they had to be religious men. They dressed as if they were poor, but the horses they rode were magnificent and the statues she could see strapped to those horses’ backs were beautiful. Perhaps they had taken a vow of poverty, but they were now working for the emperor who had taken no such vow.
Kao Jin turned to his wife. “Prepare some rice and millet wine for these fine men.”
Although millet wine was not an expensive drink, Kao Si was surprised that her husband had offered the men more than simple bowls of rice. It seemed to her that he was trying to impress them for his own advantage. That was a wise move. Perhaps he was more ambitious than she had thought.
Inside the one room hut they called their home, Jin and Si had a simple wooden table and two benches, their only furniture as they slept on mats. Jin had made the table and benches himself and Si believed he had done a good job with the work. They didn’t have many material things to take pride in, but she liked that table. They offered the seats to the travelers. Jin and Si sat on their bed mats while they ate.
“The statues we carry are protected by the Emperor,” She Moteng said when they were done. “No one would dare touch them without our permission.”
“I know,” Kao Jin replied.
“They’re statues of the Buddha. You are welcome to look at them if you wish.”
“I’d like that.”
“Come. I’ll show them to you. Some of the smaller ones are made of pure gold.”
She Moteng stood up and bowed to Kao Si. He and Kao Jin stepped out of the small home, leaving Kao Si alone with Zhu Falan.
“Your husband seems interested in our statues.”
“My husband is no fool. The emperor’s protection is enough to temper his interest.”
“Kao Hui began to cry, so Si picked her daughter up and cradled her.”
“Perhaps she is hungry?” Zhu Falan asked.
“I fed her outside before you arrived.”
“I see. And you know your daughter well enough to know it isn’t time for her to be hungry again. You are an amazing woman.”
“It is not unusual for a mother to know her child.”
“That is true, but there is more to my words than you know at this time.”
“Then you must be the one who is amazing.”
“Perhaps I am, in certain ways,” Falan told her, then seemed to change the subject. “Would you prepare some tea?”
“I have none to offer you.”
“We have come from India and I have brought a great deal of tea with me. If I give you some, would you prepare it? And share it?”
“Is it the emperor’s tea?”
“Yes. But there are times when the emperor is generous. I know he will not mind you having some of his tea and perhaps he wouldn’t mind your husband having a gold statue, if the circumstances were right.”
“A gold statue? Even the smallest one must be worth a fortune.”
For Kao Si a dream of wealth had always been as likely as that she might sprout wings and fly. She was overwhelmed by the idea that her family might be allowed to keep one of the statues. The money would bring choices they never thought they could have. They might buy more land and have tenant farmers pay to work it. Kao Hui might not have to lead a life of constant hard work as her mother had. It was amazing to think about, yet she wondered about the right circumstances Zhu Falan spoke of.


About the Author

09 November 2014

Author Interview & Book Giveaway: Cheryl Carpinello on SONS OF THE SPHINX

This week, we're pleased to again welcome author Cheryl Carpinello with her latest release, SONS OF THE SPHINX. One lucky visitor will get a free copy of Sons of the Sphinx. Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb. 

Armed with what she considers her grandmother’s curse, 15-year-old Rosa agrees to help the ghost of King Tut find his lost queen Hesena. Though Hesena’s ba inhabits part of Rosa, finding the whole spirit of Hesena so that she and Tut can be together for the first time in over 3500 years proves to be a harder task than Rosa first thinks. Thrust back into Ancient Egypt with Tut, Rosa discovers that finding Hesena is not all she must do. She must keep out of the reach of the living Horemheb—who crosses mortal boundaries using Seth’s evil magic—if she is to stay alive to make it back home.

** Q&A with Cheryl Carpinello**


November’s theme is Curses and Cures. How does Sons of the Sphinx fit into this month’s theme?

Sons of the Sphinx is about 15-year-old Rosa and her inheritance from her Nana. This is not a monetary or material inheritance. It is the ability to hear dead people. Some people might consider this an extraordinary gift. Rosa views it as a curse.

While her Nana lived, Rosa was entertained by her stories of the conversations she had with dead people. Then in the fourth grade when Rosa had a girlfriend spend the night, her Nana told them one of those stories. The girl went home the next day and told her mom. After a heated discussion over the phone with the girl’s mother, Rosa’s mom forbade Nana from talking about her ability with Rosa.

A few days before her death, Nana came into Rosa’s room and explained that this ability would pass to Rosa when she departed this life. Rosa’s life changed for what she considered the worse. Dead people would talk to her at school, and while she tried to ignore them, there were times when she just got mad and hollered at them. Try that in a classroom of other 15-year-olds and see the reaction you get.

It wasn’t long before Rosa became convinced that her Nana’s gift was no gift. It was a curse. As for the cure? Readers will have to find that out for themselves.

What made you choose ancient Egypt for your historical setting?

I’ve always been fascinated with ancient times, and Egypt is at the center of my fascination. Ancient Egypt is mysterious, mystic, and romantic to many people, including my target audience: young readers.

I didn’t really consider doing a story set then until after my visit to Egypt in 2008 and the tour of King Tut’s memorabilia in the US. An idea for a story around Tut’s life started to grow. In fact, that story is told by Tut himself in my short historical Tutankhamen Speaks. While that was a fun write, it turned out it wasn’t the story I wanted to tell. I wanted an adventure and to set that adventure in ancient Egypt with Tut sounded like an interesting story.

Why do you choose to write middle grade/tween/YA novels?

Coming from 25 years of teaching high school students, I wanted to use my experience to engage those readers and younger ones in the hopes of enticing them to read more. Sons of the Sphinx is geared more to readers aged 14 and up. Also coming of age story, I believe it helps my readers understand a little more about their lives. Rosa is a high school sophomore who is desperate to find her place in life just as were the students I taught. As she finds out, that place may not be where she wants to be, but she has to learn how to make the best of it, or be miserable for the rest of her life.

My other stories are Arthurian adventures for readers aged 8/9-12. These also carry the message of how, even this young, kids are starting to wonder where they belong in the grand scheme of the universe. Most of the time that journey to discovery is not a smooth one, but is one that can be traveled

You’ve gathered recognition for each of your books, something few writers do. Tell us about this.

I’ve been very blessed with my books. Part of that success comes from my years as a writing instructor at the high school level. Understanding my audience and what drives them—even when they don't—is also part of my success.

Guinevere: On the Eve of Legend: Finalist in the 2011 Global eBook Awards.

Young Knights of the Round Table: The King’s Ransom: Finalist in the 2012 USA Best Book Awards, Silver Award in Children’s Literary Classics 2012 Book Awards as well as their Seal of Approval, 2013 Evvy Merit Award from CIPA, and Gold Award in 2014 Global eBook Awards.

Tutankhamen Speaks: 2014 Evvy Merit Award from CIPA.

Sons of the Sphinx: Silver Award in Children’s Literary Classics 2014 Books Awards and CLC’s Seal of Approval.

Explain, if you can, what makes your books special.

This is a tough one. I believe I mentioned two earlier: My experience as a teacher and my ability to understand what motivates kids. To that I would have to add my philosophy on life, which is based on Joseph Campbell’s idea of the Hero’s Journey. The Hero With A Thousand Faces is really my Bible when I write. Campbell writes of the journey all of us embark on everyday of our lives: the search for self and worth. According to him, this is not a single journey, but one that is repeated throughout our lives. We face dangers, failures, and successes on each one.

Embedded within all of my characters’ adventures is their quest to find themselves. This is for them the first time they’ve really been able to explore their place in the world. My readers are also experiencing this in their lives. However, my books don’t preach or shout this out loud; instead, this journey is couched in an exciting and often dangerous adventure. This type of story offers readers a type of catharsis the old Greek playwrights used: Letting the audience experience the emotions of the characters, while remaining somewhat safe. Those plays also carried individual meaning for each of the audience members and were very popular.

Any final words?

Only to say thank you for hosting me, and also thanks to your readers for stopping by. I’d also be interested in any of their journeys.

Buy Links
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MVGC96Y/




Author Links

Learn more about author Cheryl Carpinello:


06 November 2014

Excerpt Thursday: SONS OF THE SPHINX by Cheryl Carpinello

This week, we're pleased to again welcome author Cheryl Carpinello with her latest release, SONS OF THE SPHINX. Join us again on Sunday for an author interview, with more details about the story behind the story. One lucky visitor will get a free copy of Sons of the Sphinx. Be sure to leave your email address in the comments of today's post or Sunday's author interview for a chance to win. Winner(s) are contacted privately by email. Here's the blurb.

Armed with what she considers her grandmother’s curse, 15-year-old Rosa agrees to help the ghost of King Tut find his lost queen Hesena. Though Hesena’s ba inhabits part of Rosa, finding the whole spirit of Hesena so that she and Tut can be together for the first time in over 3500 years proves to be a harder task than Rosa first thinks. Thrust back into Ancient Egypt with Tut, Rosa discovers that finding Hesena is not all she must do. She must keep out of the reach of the living Horemheb—who crosses mortal boundaries using Seth’s evil magic—if she is to stay alive to make it back home.

** An Excerpt from Sons of the Sphinx**

Chapter 1

I don’t see dead people. I hear them. I talk to them. Boy, you should try that. Talk about people looking at you like you’ve got two heads. That will do it. I used to look in the mirror after talking to them to see what others saw. All I saw was me, Rosa, an ordinary fifteen-year-old girl. Well, not so ordinary. I do have my father’s emerald eyes, but no glowing auras, no ghosts on my shoulders, only my sun-streaked blond hair usually in need of a trim.
It would be one thing if I talked to famous dead people. You know, like that Elvis Presley guy my mother still drools over? I mean, really? The guy would be, like, ancient today! Anyway, if I talked to him, I could give my mom a personal message like, “Sorry we never got to hook up.” That would be worth a few extra bucks for allowance, don’t you think?
No, the dead people who talk to me are just dead nobodies. Nothing exciting to say. Nothing going down. They’re just hanging out, waiting for—I don’t know—to be more dead, I guess. Or to see how much trouble they can get me in.
Take today in math class. We’re taking this test, see. I’m concentrating real hard on this problem trying to figure height or something. Then I hear this:
“Hey you.”
I jerk up in my chair, searching for the guy doing the talking. I glance at the kids on either side of me. Nothing. I look up at the teacher. He’s glaring at me.
“Great,” I whisper. “He probably thinks I’m trying to cheat.” I bow my head and focus on the problem again.
“You, I’m talking to you.”
I shake my head in hopes of tossing out that voice. I know now. Some dumb dead guy wants to talk to me.
“Would you be quiet? I’m trying to take a math test.”
“Oh sure, that’s okay for you to say. I’ll never take another test again.” His voice breaks up like bad radio reception.
“Not my problem.”
“I died too soon, I really did.”
“Look, I haven’t talked to one yet who didn’t say that. Kind of goes with the dead part. Now leave me alone. You’re going to make me fail this test.”
I hear him snort like he has to blow his nose, if the dead can actually do that. Then comes the kicker.
“I just want another chance. I promise I’ll do better.”
“I’m going to say this one more time. Not my problem. Now leave me alone.” I form three exclamation points in my head so if he is reading my thoughts as well as listening, he will get the picture.
“But it isn’t fair,” he whines. “It just isn’t fair.”
Okay. I’m fed up with this guy. I can’t even remember the formula for the problem I’m trying to answer. I am definitely going to fail if he keeps on yapping. I try to ignore him and concentrate on remembering the stupid formula.
Not fair.”
My brain is fried, and I’ve had enough. I slam my pencil on my desk and stand up. “Bud, I don’t give a damn if it isn’t fair. Just shut the hell up so I can get this test done!”
Did you get the part where I “stand up and yell”? Yep, that earns me an F on the test AND a trip to the AP’s office. I can’t even defend myself. What am I going to say? “Excuse me, I’m sorry I blurted out loud in the middle of a test, and I’m sorry for cussing, but you see, this dead person wouldn’t shut up.” Yeah, that would go over well. Nope, I just sit with my head down, my face burning from embarrassment, and whisper, “It won’t happen again. Had to be the stress over the test.” You get the picture.
The rest of the day I endure the strange looks and whispers by shrugging and mumbling something like “Idiot dead people.” The kids will avoid me for the next few days. I think they’re afraid whatever I have will rub off on them, or that I’ve gone bananas or something. Understandable.
All this comes from my grandmother. When I was little, Nana lived with us, and it was like Halloween every night. She told the most amazing stories about spirits that visited her. Nana said I would inherit her gift, except it’s not a gift. It is definitely a curse. Because of it, I had the first and last sleepover at my house in the third grade when Nana decided to share one of her stories with my best friend Rachel and me. In the years since Nana passed away, I’ve been laughed at, shunned, and avoided, especially after an incident like today.
When my parents get home and hear what happened...Well I might be the one shouting “It’s not fair.”
So now I sit in my bedroom trying to work on a history project. You know, the kind where the teacher puts you in a group, and then no one in the group does anything? Yep, that’s my luck. This is due the day after tomorrow, and no one except me has done anything. I’ll probably fail if it’s not finished. My eyes wander around the room instead of focusing.
“Roosa.”
Without thinking, I blurt out, “It’s Rosa, not Roosa. And I told you to get lost. Now.” I jump to the door and slam it shut. Do the dead have no respect?
And just who is THIS guy? It’s not the same person who got me in trouble at school. That’s nice. Now I have an army of dead people invading my brain. Too bad they can’t do this project for me.
“Roosa.”
Who is this idiot?
“Listen. This is my room, my space. These are my things, and I refuse to share them with dead people!”

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