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Tuesday, April 23, 2013

HARVEST BLEND by Tamera Lawrence

HARVEST BLEND:  Short Story written by Tamera Lawrence 

            Ernie Holloway slapped water over his face. The water bucket turned murky. He picked up a towel, rubbed his face and hung it over a tree branch. Eyes followed him. A familiar itch danced in his belly. In the distance, smoke billowed from his neighbor’s house.  He squinted, suspiciously. There she was again, watching him from her kitchen window. Miss Nosy Body gawked at him, putting on airs. It was the third time this week. Well he’d give her a show to see. Without much ado, he promptly dropped his pants, revealing long underwear. With a jerk of his head, he smiled sweetly. Stunned, she bolted out of sight. He rolled his head back and laughed. The sound echoed across the distance.
            Whistling, Ernie returned to his house, sat on his porch and lit his pipe. He puffed for a while, enjoying the tranquility. Scent of fall harvest slipped through the twilight, mingled with pungent smoke. His prize pumpkin sat in the back of his wagon. Tomorrow he’d enter it in the county festival. It was the biggest pumpkin he had ever grown. Surely, he’d receive a prize ribbon. Emily would have been proud.
His wife’s face loomed in his mind. Emily had loved the annual festival, entering many contests. Although his wife had been dead for ten years, he thought of her this time of year. Childless, he lived alone, except for livestock. He preferred it that way.
A scream broke the silence.
Ernie bolted out of the chair and leaped from the porch. Who was yelling? He stared at his neighbor’s yard. There stood Greta Gibbon, miss high and mighty herself. The widow twirled around in circles, flapping her apron with her hands. She appeared to be engaged in a strange ritual dance.
Without further ado, Ernie ran to her aid.  Yellow jackets swarmed around Greta in a gathering storm, furious over her intrusion into their nest. He grabbed Greta’s hand, yanked her along into her house and slammed shut the door. Greta slapped at the bees that clung to her dress, howling and mumbling illogically. Ernie helped in her task, turned her around and swatted at the bees along her backside.
“Mr. Holloway,” she gasped, jerking around. “Please mind your hands.”
Stunned, he stepped away as she finished checking her clothes. His skin throbbed from the stings he bore on her behalf. Finally, she finished, lifted her chin and gave him a haughty glare.
“I think I am fine now, Mr. Holloway,” she declared. “Good evening to you, sir.” And with that, she dismissed him with a snap of fingers.
“Well that’s a fine how do you do,” he mumbled, scratching his stubble chin. “Not even a thank you.”
“I did not invite your intrusion, Mr. Holloway,” she said directly. “But beings that you have forced your assistance, I now bid you good evening.”
“If I had not assisted you, Ms. Gibbons, you would still be running around in circles out in your back yard.“ He smirked, the image appealing. “Bees would be filling your belly by now.”
“You are most crude.” She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. “As you can see, I am quite fine.”
“Yes, I can see you are.” He cracked a wry smile. Her face was swollen from the many stings. She had to be in pain, yet her pride remained ever intact.  “You are back to your delightful ways.”
“Humph.” She eyed him like an insect. “I detect sarcasm in your voice. Do not mock me. I am not a county bumpkin like the folk around these parts.”
“That’s right. You are from the city. Tell me, why are you living here amongst us country bumpkins?”
“Not that it is any of your concern,” she said. “But I followed my son here to be closer to my family. My granddaughter was born a week ago.”
“Yes.  I heard her crying through my bedroom window. That child could stir the dead.”
“Cad,” she said. “She is just an infant. You are a peculiar man.”
“Perhaps. But my habits are my business. You should keep your eyes and noise in your own back yard. But I suppose that would be a boring proposition.”
“You talk to your vegetables.”
“You talk to your cat.”
“My cat is an animal.”
“ My vegetables are plants.”
“I find it absurd.” She crossed her arms, scowling. “It’s not natural.”
“My plants bloom even in drought.”
“You think too much of yourself.” 
“You are welcome to move anytime.”
“I shall have to talk to my son about the very notion.”
“I’m sure he’d like to send you packing back to the city.”  Her face paled considerably.
            “Get out.” She opened the door.
            After his morning chores, Ernie readied himself for the festival. Despite his hopes of winning a ribbon, his eyes often strayed to Greta’s house. As he readied the cart, eyes watched him. She was at it again. He saluted her. The curtain moved as she jerked away.
            Just as he was about to leave, Greta approached. Her face looked terrible and raw.
            “Good morning to you, Ms Gibbons.”
            “You look a sight,” she said mockingly. “How can you allow yourself to be seen at the festival?”
            “I am not a handsome man,” he commented. “A splotch or two on my face will make no difference.” A glimmer of a smile hinted her mouth.
            Greta walked around the wagon, staring derisively at the pumpkin. “So you think that ghastly thing will win a prize.”
            “I win ever year,” he boasted.
            “I suppose you think it’s because you talk to it while it grows.”
            “My little secret.” He winked.
            “Humph.” She patted the pumpkin. “What will you do with it after?”
            “Sell it at market.”
            “Don’t you ever cook it up and make pies.”
            “Can’t cook.”
            “Well it’s just fortunate that for you I make the best pumpkin pie in the county. But I have one question?”
            “What will you tell it when I bring out my knife?” 

Thursday, April 18, 2013

BEFORE I WAKE: Release Date August 23 2013

Photo: BEFORE I WAKE is a chilling tale of murder, deception and revenge. Death is only a heartbeat away.

Coming soon:

BEFORE I WAKE is a chilling tale of murder, deception and revenge. Death is only a heartbeat away.


Impulsively, Christine shoved the window curtain aside, staring out at Todd, who was busy looking over paperwork. She stared at the toilet, than at her face in the mirror. Ugh. She looked terrible. Her face still held traces of makeup or dirt. She was pale with dark circles beneath her eyes. She stuck out her tongue, grimy. Grabbing a length of toilet paper, she wet it and rubbed at her skin. The tissue stained. How could she come out today before taking a shower? She grimaced. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t use any reasoning at all this morning. She had just acted without thought. But at least she’d found her dream house. So all wasn’t lost.
 When she finished tiding up, she flushed the soiled paper down the toilet and washed her hands. Grabbing her purse, she reached in and pulled out a small container holding Tylenol.
“Last ones,” she murmured, throwing them into her mouth. Using her hands, she cupped some running water and brought the liquid to her lips. Feeling better, she took her time staring around the bathroom.
            Raw bile formed in her throat. Gagging, she almost vomited in the toilet. It was either the pills, pregnancy or she was definitely getting sick. She believed it to be the first option. If only she had some dry crackers or bread. That always seemed to help.
Passing the towel rack, she stared at the lighthouses on the hand-towels. A vision of running on the beach jolted her - the sounds of the ocean, the feel of the sand. She pressed her hand against her mouth. She better leave before she made a mess out of their bathroom.
Wouldn’t Milly like that?
            Leaving the room, she walked down the hallway towards the steps. A noise stopped her. She bit her lip, breath stilling. Quiet settled. Her heart sped away. There. There it was again. It came from the second bedroom.
She backed up a few steps. The door was partially ajar. With her hand, she pushed it fully open, staring into the empty room. No one was there.
Breathing. Soft. But it wasn’t her breath. Soft pants broke the silence. Once again she listened. This time it distinctively came from beneath the bed. The child must be under it, hiding. Chills washed over her. Something watched her.
Fear rolled down her spine, then pity.
“Hello, honey,” she said softly. This was a frightened child. Not some hidden monster, though she couldn’t help her mind’s musings.  “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”
The breathing grew erratic, rough and raw.
“Are you under the bed?”
No answer.
“You can talk to me. I won’t hurt you.”
Footsteps approached from the staircase. She stepped back towards the doorway.

Friday, April 12, 2013


AUTHOR TAMERA LAWRENCE: HAUNTED OR NOT? GHOSTS OF MAYFLOWER REVIEW: 5.0 out of 5 stars HAUNTED OR NOT?   April 12, 2013 By   gayle pace Format: Paperback GHOSTS OF MAYFLOWER A Pennhurs...


5.0 out of 5 stars

HAUNTED OR NOT? April 12, 2013

A Pennhurst Haunting
by Tamera Lawrence

A nurse who gives invisible shots, a girl who likes to dart into corners and a man who still sits in the common room are just three of the spirits haunting the Pennhurst Asylum in Spring City, Pennsylvania. The author knows this since she took a job as an orderly working in the Mayflower Building. The Hospital had been closed down due to resident abuse. Today Pennhurst has been turned into a Halloween attraction.. The author took the job in the Mayflower building since it was one of the most spiritually active of all the buildings. People are fascinated with Pennhurst and want to know more about its past and its present. The author being intrigued decided to do her own research. She has written a book bringing the past and present together to entertain, but also enlighten.

I think we all love good ole ghost stories I couldn't wait to start reading this book. The author, Tamera Lawrence did a marvelous job of documenting the people who work at the Hospital, their work schedules, their personal experiences This old hospital is the Pennhurst Halloween attraction with tons of guests and , of course ghosts along with a some things that go bump and bang in the night. in the night. This book is a wonderful short read. If you have the time you can read the entire book in one sitting. You won't be able to stop turning the pages. You just have to know what is going to happen next.

I received a complimentary copy of GHOSTS OF MAYFLOWER, A Pennhurst Haunting, from the author, Tamera Lawrence for this unbiased review.

I would give this book a 5 STARS.

A definite HIGH FIVE.