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New Release: An Element of Mystery

September 27, 2022 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Spotlight tagged as , , , ,

An Element of Mystery is available now in both print and ebook formats.

Dare you read our latest Sweet, Funny, and Strange® Anthology?

The Bethlehem Writers Group is pleased to present this collection of tales of mystery and intrigue—the latest in its award-winning series of Sweet, Funny, and Strange® anthologies. From classic whodunnits to tales of the unexplained, each of the twenty-three stories contained herein have an element of mystery that will keep you guessing and wanting to read just one more story.

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We’re thrilled to have old friends, but new members of BWG, join us this year. Award-winning author Debra H. Goldstein favors us with a mystery set among volunteers at a synagogue entitled “Death in the Hand of the Tongue,” while “Sense Memory,” by the multi-talented Paula Gail Benson, brings a

delightful mix of mystery and the paranormal that helps a young couple find their way to each other.

In addition, we are happy to bring you the winning stories from two of our annual Bethlehem Writers Roundtable Short Story Award competitions: “Good Cop/Bad Cop” by Trey Dowell (2021 winner) and “The Tabac Man” by Eleanor Ingbretson (2022 winner).

You’ll also find stories from your favorite BWG authors, including Courtney Annicchiarico, Jeff Baird, Peter J Barbour, A. E. Decker, Marianne H. Donley, Ralph Hieb, DT Krippene, Jerry McFadden, Emily P. W. Murphy, Christopher D. Ochs, Dianna Sinovic, Kidd Wadsworth, Paul Weidknecht, and Carol L. Wright.

So get ready to be mystified . . . or intrigued!

An Element of Mystery is available now.

More Books from the Bethlehem Writers Group

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A Walk in the Rain

September 26, 2022 by in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as , , , , ,

A Walk in the Rain

Paris, they say, 
is beautiful 
when it rains—
now I know.


The cobblestones 
gleam beneath 
our feet, as you 
and I, our arms 
entwined, 
inhale the scent 
of romance 
washed clean 
of old arguments 
betrayed loyalties. 


Nothing in between 
but occasional 
crisp sparks 
of our own 
lightning, intense, 
tempered only 
by the summer 
zephyr carrying 
whiffs of rosemary 
drenched in the ardor 
of Paris. 

©Neetu Malik

Previously published in The Poetic Bond V by Willowdown Books, U.K, in 2016


Some of Neetu’s Books

THE OCOTILLO REVIEW SUMMER 2018 VOL 2.2

THE POETIC BOND V

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THE POETIC BOND V

THE POETIC BOND VI

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THE POETIC BOND VI

THE POETIC BOND X

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THE POETIC BOND X

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NOT GUILTY

September 25, 2022 by in category Infused with Meaning by Kidd Wadsworth tagged as , ,
Photo by Ben Hershey on Unsplash

———————

To my Writer Friends,

In the following piece, first the reader watches as the trap is set. Then the action is drawn out allowing the reader to fully anticipate the moment when the trap will spring shut. Finally, the climax comes, the poor unsuspecting victim is caught, and we, along with our protagonist, almost feel guilty. I find this type of humor easier to craft than any other form.

Give it a try,

Kidd

______

NOT GUILTY

Kidd Wadsworth

I think I have screwed up DNA. Amidst those A’s, C’s, G’s and T’s I must have a J or an L. You see, I just don’t feel guilty. Nope. Sorry. Well, actually I’m not sorry. I don’t even feel guilty for not feeling guilty.

I suppose it was the 1980s. My dad scores four Ranger baseball tickets. Dad invites me, my brother-in-law Curt and my boyfriend, John, to go with him. On the day of the game John shows up with his mitt.

I grin. “You brought your mitt?”

“I’m gonna catch a ball.”

We have great seats. Right behind the catcher. In front of us, are some Yankees. Not baseball player Yankees, but rather, you know, northerners, fellas rooting for the other team. We give ’em grief, and they give it right back. Yup, we were having ourselves a real good time.

And all the while John sits in the seat next to me punching his fist into his glove.

Now behind us, about 10 rows up are two little old ladies. I mean they are Hollywood type cast: skinny, white-haired, wrinkled, but spry. Nolan Ryan isn’t pitching that night, so the rest of the seats are empty. It’s just us, the Yankees, and the two grannies.

Up to the plate walks this stocky dude. Whack! The ball flies over the backstop and what do you know, the little old ladies catch the ball. I kid you not. I told you they were spry. Twice more he fouls, then strikes out. As the dude hustles on back to the dugout, an evil idea forms in my mind. Being guiltless I can’t resist. It’s like trying not to sigh when you drop into the hot tub.

“John,” I say adding a dose of southern bell to my Texas accent, “would you get me some nachos?”

He looks at me like I’m the stupidest woman on the planet. With that look, his fate is sealed. I mean, I’m guiltless, but occasionally I do take pity on people. But after that look? Poor, poor John.

“How can you ask me for food at time like this?” he says. “Did you see that foul ball?”

I lean in closer. Oh, did I tell you that I’m cute?

“John,” I have the southern belle accent going again, “please.” I draw out the word please until its twelve syllables long. I kiss his cheek. “Besides, this is a different batter. He’s gonna hit that ball somewhere else. You know that.”

He sighs. As he gets up, I say, “Leave the mitt.”

His eyes narrow, like he’s some Neanderthal looking at a creature he’s thinking about killing and having for dinner. I hold out my hand and smile, oh, so sweetly. He rolls his eyes and hands me the mitt. Ten seconds later he disappears behind the stands, and I get up to go talk to the sweet little old ladies. Yeah, you got it. They’re not quite as innocent as they look. I ask to borrow their ball. One shakes her head. The other smiles like the Chester Cat. I return to my seat with the ball tucked into the pocket of John’s mitt. Below me one of the Yankees says, “You’re an evil woman.”

I smile at him, oh, so sweetly.

Two batters later, John returns with my nachos. I’ve still got that borrowed ball snuggled into the pocket of his glove and the glove folded closed around it.

Now, I should pause here and tell you that Dad and Curt haven’t said a word. Dad because it’s Mom’s DNA I inherited and he gave up a long time ago, and Curt because my sister got the DNA too, and Curt believes John needs to be prepared for his future life of agony should he choose to propose.

As John starts to sit down, I proclaim, “John, John, I caught a ball. I caught a ball.” Of course, immediately everyone is paying attention: Dad, Curt, the Yankees, and the little old ladies, but they don’t say a word. No, not one word.

John rolls his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really. It just sailed over the net.” My eyes go up in the air like I’m watching an imaginary ball. “It came right to me.” Here, I pause, for dramatic effect. “Well, actually it came right to your seat, but I just reached over and caught it.”

“You did?” He rolls his eyes again. I’m getting real tired of that.

“Yes, I caught a ball.” I act all excited.

“You caught a ball.” Again, with the eyes.

“Yes,” I say, like I’m truly hurt that he doesn’t believe me. “I caught a ball.”

“Well, then.” He gets this disgusting smirk on his face. I mean how dumb does he think I am? And he says, “So, where is it?”

My face, my pulse, my sweat glands would have stood up to a CIA lie detector test. I reach into the pocket of that mitt and like I’m so happy I’m about to burst I say, “Here it is.”

Oh, the look on his face. Like a little boy whose puppy just died. I almost feel guilty. Really. I ALMOST did. You know, there was this brief twinge of, of, of . . . something. But it disappeared.

He sinks dejected into his seat. Those Yankees shake their heads. Ten rows behind me I hear smothered giggles. I get up, and as John watches, I hand that ball back to the little old ladies. Everyone bursts out laughing. My stomach aches from it.

Of course, when I try to sit back down, I have to climb over John. He refuses to move his legs. Doesn’t give me any nachos either.


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WHISKEY LOVE—A REVIEW BY VERONICA JORGE

September 22, 2022 by in category Book Reviews by Veronica Jorge, Write From the Heart by Veronica Jorge tagged as , , , ,

Who doesn’t love a good romance? Especially when you start wishing the story was your own.

It’s the 1800s, in Tennessee. Folks don’t take kindly to outsiders, especially highfalutin northeasterners. Men reject women meddling in business affairs, particularly the whiskey business. And the temperance movement is in full swing, trying to do away with intoxicating spirits altogether.

Meet Chloe Tanner, a high-born lady from Boston, who has inherited her family’s famous distillery, which she is determined to keep and run against all the odds.

Bold and brash, Chloe can hold her own against societal mores and conventions and inept managers. But she’s thrown off balance by her attraction to the very handsome Penland Kittrell, her main business rival.

When a suspicious fire burns the cornfield that supplies Chloe’s business, the bottling company claims to be out of stock, her office is blown up, and someone takes a shot at her, Chloe braces herself for the fight of her life.

Is it the temperance movement? A disgruntled worker she fired? Men who don’t want to work for a woman? Or her rival, Penland Kittrell, the man she’s fallen in love with, trying to shut her down or force her to sell out?

As Chloe discovers. “Sometimes you can’t help who your heart falls for, you just have to deal with it. Somehow.”

But with so many threats against her business and now her life, how will she deal with it? And can she trust the love of her life, Penland Kittrell?

If you like danger, mystery, romance, and strong heroines, Whiskey Love by Joy Allyson is the book for you.

You might also find yourself reaching for a bit of Tennessee history and whiskey.

Veronica Jorge

See you next time on October 22nd!

WHISKEY LOVE

JOY ALLYSON

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

2022   

ISBN: 978-1-5092-4191-0

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Jina Bacarr September Featured Author

September 21, 2022 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Featured Author of the Month tagged as , , , ,

About Jina Bacarr

I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve.

I grew up listening to their wild, outlandish tales and it was those early years of storytelling that led to my love of history and traveling.

Jina Bacarr | A Slice of Orange

I enjoy writing to classical music with a hot cup of java by my side. I adore dark chocolate truffles, vintage anything, the smell of bread baking and rainy days in museums. I’ve always loved walking through history—from Pompeii to Verdun to Old Paris. The voices of the past speak to me through carriages with cracked leather seats, stiff ivory-colored crinolines, and worn satin slippers. I’ve always wondered what it was like to walk in those slippers when they were new.

You can follow Jina on social media:

Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Pinterest
Goodreads
Bookbub

Jina also has a column here on the 11th of every month: Jina’s Book Chat.

Jina’s newest novel, The Orphans of Berlin, is available for preorder and will be published November 10, 2022.

THE ORPHANS OF BERLIN
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A Few of Jina’s Other Books

A NAUGHTY CHRISTMAS CAROL

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A NAUGHTY CHRISTMAS CAROL

A SOLDIER’S ITALIAN CHRISTMAS

Buy now!
A SOLDIER’S ITALIAN CHRISTMAS

CHRISTMAS ONCE AGAIN

Buy now!
CHRISTMAS ONCE AGAIN

COME FLY WITH ME

Buy now!
COME FLY WITH ME

LOVE ME FOREVER

Buy now!
LOVE ME FOREVER

RESISTANCE GIRL

Buy now!
RESISTANCE GIRL

THE LOST GIRL IN PARIS

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THE LOST GIRL IN PARIS

THE ORPHANS OF BERLIN

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THE ORPHANS OF BERLIN

THE RUNAWAY GIRL

Buy now!
THE RUNAWAY GIRL

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