Magic In The Mix with Karen McCullough

Magic in the Mix

I write in a variety of genres, and a lot of my books contain elements of more than one. I grew up reading mystery, suspense, fantasy, and science fiction, then found romance when I got a bit older. I love them all. I find it easy to write in all of them, except for my inability to stay in one at a time. I, or my publishers, classify my stories based on the most predominant element, but there’s almost always a mix.

One of my most recently published books is a mix of science fiction, fantasy, romance, suspense, and mystery. In fact, it would be hard to say what the primary genre is for A Wizard’s Shield. The fantasy/science fiction element is the primary driver of a plot that becomes decidedly a mystery as it develops. But the relationship between the two leads is also a significant story driver as well. I like to think of it as just a good story.

Most people are familiar with the mix of romance and mystery/suspense in the plethora of romantic suspense novels on the market. But fantasy romance is a less well-known subgenre that still has many fans. But that brings up the question: how do you mix magic and romance?

It's actually not as hard as it sounds. But it does require staying in a particular mindset while writing the story. When you’re writing characters that have unusual powers, abilities or needs, you have to stay aware of how those different qualities affect the characters in every facet of their lives. It’s just a step beyond what an author normally does in getting to know their character. One already has to consider how normal things like family and economic background, location, and education affect the character. For special characters you add in the effects that having the ability has. 

In a fantasy story with romantic elements like The Wizard’s Shield, where both of the main characters have magical abilities, that power has to inform how they relate to each other as well as to others. If they can read minds or feel emotions, that’s going to have an influence on their behavior. Can they hide their reactions to things they shouldn’t know, but do? (Actually my characters don’t read minds, but they’re always aware that they can do other things that most people can’t.)

Add in elements of mystery and suspense to the story, and you have to account for how the character’s abilities would affect the progression of the story. Do they have ways to beat the bad guys that others don’t? Do they have to be careful not to harm others in the process? Do they need to hide what they’re doing from normal people? How do they explain what appears to be inexplicable? What kind of vulnerabilities do their special powers invite?

In my story, although Michael Morgan lived with Ilene McConnell’s family when he was a teenager, they were separated when the hormones hit and they grew too close to each other too early. At the start of the book they’re reunited after twelve years—and a lot of hard living—apart. Despite the bitterness between them, they immediately have to work together to divert a threat from some dark forces. Working together, though, means something different for them than for most people. It involves combining their power to make it strong enough to redirect a tornado. The process gives them access to each other in ways far more intimate than most people ever experience.

They understand each other in ways that no one else can, but that doesn’t mean they agree on everything, even the ways to use their abilities. In fact, Michael and Ilene have some significant differences that they have to work through. Some of those stem from their gifts; others are just the kinds of human disagreements everyone has with others. But when you’re fighting a criminal underworld that uses magic in evil ways, you use every advantage you have.

They’re very good at fighting magic with magic.  But then there’s what happens when they make love. No, I’m not going to tell you. I hope you’ll want to read the book yourself to find out. But here’s a hint: it’s really magical!

A powerful wizard with a physics degree and a checkered past invents a shield to ensure he'll never again be tortured almost to death. 

The wizarding powers-that-be fear the repercussions of such a device and send his former girlfriend, an accomplished wizard herself, to retrieve the device or destroy it. 

When the shield is stolen by the magical mafia, Ilene McConnell and Michael Morgan have to set aside their differences and work together to recover it. Michael claims he needs the device as insurance against the kind of injury and injustice he suffered once before. Ilene maintains its potential to upset the delicate balance of power makes it too dangerous and that it needs to be destroyed. But none of that will matter if they can’t retrieve it before a ruthless, powerful wizard learns how to use it for his own ends.

Buy Links:

Paperback

Kindle

NOOK

Smashwords

iTunes

Kobo

Meet The Author

Karen McCullough is the author of more than a dozen published novels in the mystery, romantic suspense, and fantasy genres and has won numerous awards, including an Eppie Award for fantasy. She’s also been a four-time Eppie finalist, and a finalist in the Prism, Dream Realm, Rising Star, Lories, Scarlett Letter, and Vixen Awards contests. Her short fiction has appeared in several anthologies and numerous small press publications in the fantasy, science fiction, and romance genres. She has three children, three grandchildren and lives in Greensboro, NC, with her husband of many years. 

Author’s links:

Website: http://www.kmccullough.com

Blog: http://www.kmccullough.com/kblog

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kgmccullough

Cover Reveal for The Courage To Love

Well, I just couldn't wait to share my new cover with everyone.  Coming soon Book 1 in my new series Love On The North Shore, The Courage To Love

Love in Adversity With Victoria Roder

Love in Adversity 

Has your love life always been perfect, smooth sailing? Yeah, mine either. That’s why I create characters that struggle in their relationships. I write about vulnerable men and women with insecurities that major in misunderstandings. I toss in adversity, murder and mayhem that can pull people lovers apart or cause them to rely upon each other and grow closer.
In the Haunting of Ingersull Penitentiary Hailey Price and her soon-to-be-ex-husband still care about each other, but Hailey’s workaholic ethics and Nate’s lazy get- rich schemes clash. Converting the former federal prison Ingersull Penitentiary, into the “The Big House Inn” swallowed Hailey Price’s inheritance from her murdered mother and deceased father’s estate. But, with any luck, the rumors of the federal complex being haunted will boost interest of the Inn. The abandoned Penitentiary, cursed by a witch, is in a constant battle of good versus evil, an eternal struggle for the souls that enter the complex. 

The residual haunts are the least of the frightening occurrences at the Inn. An electrical storm traps the visitors with a possessed Ouija board and the spirit of a condemned witch with an ancient curse. Hailey, Nate and several guests spend a heart pounding night in the battle of good verses evil. It might be Heaven checking into “The Big House Inn”, but it’s Hell checking out. 

Haunting of Ingersull Penitentiary Excerpt

Turning toward the desk, her heart jumped in her chest. Upon it sat an Ouija game board which she would swear had not been there a moment ago. Holding her breath she closed her eyes for a second. Slowly opening them didn’t change the fact. The game remained perched on the desk. 

Talking out loud calmed her shaking hands. “I just overlooked it when I walked in.” We signed papers on that desk. I would have seen it.  No. No it had to be there the whole time. The dumb game was there the whole time. Shake it off. 

She glanced at the framed pictures of former wardens lining the far wall. The portrait representing 1963 to 1972 caught her attention. It was the only photograph of a warden pictured with his wife. Through her research, Hailey discovered that Maryann Armstrong was a direct descendent of Jonat Ingersull, the man the penitentiary was named after. 

“Charles and Maryann Armstrong. Oh, so serious. They don’t look very happily ever after. At least I’m not the only one that didn’t get the fairytale.” 

Turning from the portraits she made her way to the registration desk. Picking up the Ouija game, she opened the drawer. Tossing it inside, she slammed the drawer shut. 

“There. I hate those creepy games.”  

A dark shadow darted past. A cold shiver rocked her body. Jerking her head, she followed the dark mass’s movement. It disappeared. 

What−Where did…? Overactive Imagination? Or were the rumors about Ingersull Penitentiary true? 

Want to read more?

Amazon

Author Website

Interview with Sassy Writer Vicki Batman

Joining me today is author Vicki Batman, so sit back enjoy the interview.

When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?  Once, I told Handsome I wished I could write like Dick Francis. But it wasn't until a friend said, "You can do this," that I took upon the challenge. After I sold a few stories, I finally felt like a writer. 

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk? I like sticky notes. I put notes to myself, reminders, whatever on them and line them up in front of my computer. When not needed, I rip off and toss. That part is fun.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing? I love to do needlepoint, play mahjongg, Jazzercise, take long walks, hang on the couch with a good book, go to a movie with Handsome. 

How many books have you written? Which is your favorite? I've had 27 short stories published—I *think* that's right. One of my favs is one sold to the TRUE magazines entitled "Drive My Car." It's about a girl who takes driving lessons from the cop who wrote the ticket. Very funny. 

What do you think makes a good story? Upon opening to the first chapter, a reader should get hooked and want to finish the book/story. So a good hook. Then the characters must be intriguing enough to keep the story moving and continue to pull the reader along. Finally, a satisfying ending. 

What are your favorite book genres in writing and reading? I write sweet and sexy funny fiction. I read sweet, sexy, funny romances and mysteries. Why? I cut my teeth on the Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden. I've always liked mysteries and have one coming out in 2014. 

Who are you favorite authors to read? My all-time favorite author was Dick Francis. I read Janet Evanovich, Carl Hiassen, Elizabeth George, Sue Grafton, Sophie Kinsella.

You Can Find Vicki at:

Website: http://vickibatman.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Vicki-Batman-sassy-writer-of-sexy-and-funny-fiction/133506590074451?ref=hl

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VickiBatman

Plotting Princesses: http://plottingprincesses.blogspot.com

Three short romantic comedies from sassy writer girl, Vicki Batman.

"Just Desserts": a political dinner gone disastrous brings together a reluctant attendee and her handsome seat-mate.

"Bug Stuff": A cute accountant unites with his co-worker to fight a pesky adversary.

"With This Ring": When a wife forgets her little black dress, all turns into something utterly romantic and unforgettable in the end. 

Find Bug Stuff…and other stories at: 

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1cuV6Ry

And other e-retailers.

Family Relationships and Writing From The Heart with Award Winning Author Karen Rose Smith

I am pleased to welcome guest blogger, Karen Rose Smith, to Happily Ever After Today.

FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS AND WRITING FROM THE HEART

When I wrote HER SISTER, I knew it was a departure from the type of book I usually write.  It's women's fiction with romance and mystery.  But is it really so different? One element that has always characterized my romances is family relationships.  Whether I'm writing the ultimate romance or adding a mystery or suspense plot, family trumps all.

There are many reasons for that.  Although I was an only child, my extended family was large.  My parents and I lived with my grandfather and aunt until I was five and then my parents built a house next door.  I ran between the houses as if they were both "home."  On summer mornings I can remember my aunt singing while she made breakfast.  When I was home sick from school, I stayed with my aunt and my grandfather until my parents returned home.

In HER SISTER, I drew on memories of my uncle's farm where my dad and another uncle worked, too, raising tobacco.  I remember going out into the tobacco field with them on a flatbed trailer being pulled by a tractor.  I helped push the tobacco leaves onto lathes before they were hung in the barn.  I can still remember the sun on my face, the smells of harvesting, the enjoyment of feeling free on that farm.  In HER SISTER, this was Amanda's background.  One summer she shared it with Max when they fell in love.

To write this book, I analyzed what happened when a family fell apart because their three-year-old was abducted.  Then I imagined what could happen as they found their way back to each other in the midst of another crisis.

After writing romance for twenty years, my first mystery—STAGED TO DEATH—was released by Kensington Books in December.  I found the genre fit perfectly and I love the challenge of devising puzzle pieces that fit together to weave a story.  Family is a relevant theme in my mysteries, too.  In HER SISTER, I decided to combine everything I like best about writing--an emotional plot with romance and mystery.

I hope you enjoy it.

©2014 Karen Rose Smith 

When Clare Thaddeus' sister was abducted, she was five and her family fell apart.  Now, twenty-seven years later, there's a chance Lynnie could still be alive! Divorced parents, a rebellious daughter, and a 

devoted sister find their lives in turmoil once again.  This time, will crisis tear them apart or will forgotten love knit them together once more?

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Audible

Meet The Author

Award-winning author Karen Rose Smith was born in Pennsylvania. Although she was an only child, she remembers the bonds of an extended family. Since her father came from a family of ten and her 

mother, a family of seven, there were always aunts, uncles and cousins visiting on weekends. Family is a strong theme in her books and she suspects her childhood memories are the reason.

In college, Karen began writing poetry and also met her husband to be. They both began married life as teachers, but when their son was born, Karen decided to try her hand at a home-decorating business.  She returned to teaching for a while but changes in her life led her to writing romance fiction. Now she writes romances and mysteries full time. Her 84th novel will be published in 2014.  She envisions herself writing relationship novels, both romance and mystery, for a long time to come!

How To Contact Karen

Facebook

Romance Website

Mystery Website

Blog

Today's Book Feature: The Witch Finder

Scotland, 1661

He's a haunted man.

Alexander Kincaid watched his mother die, the victim, they said, of a witch's curse. So he has dedicated his life to battling evil. But in this small, Scottish village, he confronts a woman who challenges everything he believes. She may be more dangerous than a witch, because she's a woman who threatens his heart. 

She's a hunted woman.

They called her mother a witch, but she was only a woman made mad by witch hunters like Alexander Kincaid. Having escaped to the Border hills, Margret Reid is seeking a safe haven and a place to hide. But when the witch hunter arrives, not only is her heart in danger.

So is her life.

Read on For An Excerpt

 from Chapter One

Margret nodded her thanks. Shielded by her scarf and plaide, she walked back out onto the hard-packed dirt of the lane to see the witch finder looming before her, blocking her path.
He was just as menacing in daylight, cloak swirling above bucket top boots, all in colors somber enough to please the Kirk. Yet if she had not known who he was, she might have suspected him of practicing dark arts. 
His deep-set eyes snagged hers. Even in daylight, she saw a haunted look there. As if he were the one carrying the demons.
She cast her gaze to the ground, hoping he would not notice her. 
Too late. “Good day, Guidwife.”
She tried to step around him, turning her face toward the hills.
His hand touched her shoulder. "I said, 'Good day!'" His voice was firm as his touch. “Will you not look at me and give a civil reply?”
Against her will, she turned, slowly, and watched his expression change, the same way they all did when they saw her full for the first time.
“My God.” Startled into blasphemy, he drew his hand away from her shoulder. “I was not blinded.”
She met his eyes, knowing he saw something very different when he looked at hers. 
“They’re . . . ,” he stumbled over the words. “One is blue, the other . . .”
She let him look. No reason to hide what he had already seen. One eye was blue, clear and bright like her mother’s. The other was altogether different, with a patch of brown filling part of the iris. 
“And yours,” she began, when the silence stretched taut. Shadowed by his brows, his eyes looked near black. “One is brown, the other, brown.” Calm words, when she wanted to scratch his eyes out and cover her own so no one would ever see them again and wonder.
Down the street, the two women from the alehouse had stopped at the edge of the common green to watch. He looked at them, then to the alehouse and back to Margret. “You know who I am.”
He must know enough of village life to know that news of a stranger traveled fast.  “I do not know your name.” In her dread, she must have missed it.
“Alexander Kincaid. And yours?”
She did not answer. “They say you find witches.” His boots were fine leather, the fabric of his cloak a deep black not faded with time. Together, they must have cost a woman’s life. Maybe two. “It seems you find a lot of them.” 
Surprised, he leaned away. She took a deeper breath. She should not have insulted him, but now that he had seen her, the best she could do was resist. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes the man would hesitate long enough for her to run.
“I don’t do it for money.”
She raised her eyebrows. “But they do pay you.”
“To do God’s work. To stamp out evil, yes.”
Was that what haunted him? Had he seen too much evil and chosen to fight it? “How many? How many witches have you found?”
He looked toward the fields and made no ready answer. What lay behind his silence? Days, weeks, months of confronting them in too many towns, killing too many witches to remember? 
“Not enough,” he said, finally, facing her again. “They still surround us.”
She thought she had seen them all, all the hunters. Some, with pursed lips and Bibles, were convinced they were servants of God. Others, with lascivious eyes and slack lips, had more earthly motives.
But this man was different. He spoke of God, but the pain he carried was his own.
“You haven’t told me your name,” he said.
“Margret.”
“Margret what?”
It was a common enough name. It would mean nothing to him unless he was from Edinburgh.
“Reid. Margret Reid.”
“I will see you again, Guidwife Reid.”
She hurried away without answering, wishing it were not true.

Copyright © Blythe Gifford 2013

Where to Find The Book

Amazon

KOBO

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords

Meet The Author

After many years in public relations, advertising and marketing, Blythe Gifford started writing seriously after a corporate layoff. Ten years and one layoff later, she became an overnight success when she sold her first book to the Harlequin Historical line.  Since then, she has published eight romances set in England and on the Scottish Borders in the medieval and early Tudor time period.  For more information, visit www.blythegifford.com or www.facebook.com/BlytheGifford

Author Photo:  Jennifer Girard

Interview with Sandra K. Marshall

Joining me today is romance author Sandra K. Marshall, so sit back and check out her interview.   Then check out her newest release.

Q.  When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?   

A. I wrote as soon as I started reading.  I wrote a skit in school, letters to friends, family and kids in the military, but I never thought of being a writer.  Not until my husband started bugging me to do something useful besides reading.  lol  Men!  He claimed that as much as I read I could write a book.  Humph!  He knew nothing, and I still tell him that.  lol

Q.  How long does it take you to write a book?  

A.  Usually, around a year.  I'm a slow writer.  

Q.  What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?  

A.  I can't stop editing, and I try to.  One day, I'll make myself write the first draft without editing.

Q.  What do you think is the best way of publishing a book these days? 

A.  I think the digital format is the fastest way to get your book out to the public.  I'm not sure it's the best way though. 

Q.  Where do you get your information or ideas for your books? 

A.  Usually, I get my ideas from the news either on television, or other media, and every day life.  

Q.  When did you write your first book? 

A.  I started my first book in 1988 and finished it in 1989.  It didn't get published.   

Q.  What do you like to do when you’re not writing? 

A.  I enjoy doing things with my hubby like riding his Suzuki Burgman 400 series motor scooter.  With the wind blowing in my face and around me it removes all of the cobwebs, and I can get back to writing. 

Q.  What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your books?

A.  I learned one book could turn into two or three books.  lol

Q.  How many books have you written? Which is your favorite?  

A.  I have written three books and a novella, but I didn't get published until 2008 the first time.  I have a short story coming out in 2014.  The Riverboat Mysteries trilogies are my favorite.

Q.  Can you tell me and your readers something about your main characters?

A.  In the last book of my trilogy, The Deceived, the heroine, Melanie Dubois, has been lied to by many people and she has fallen in with a crowd that wants to destroy her family business.  She has hated her mother since a teenager and doesn't realize her mother loves her the most.  Mike Mercer is an F.B.I. agent who has watched this group for some time.  He has been in this series since it started, and he's very protective of Melanie.  

Q.  Do you hear from your readers much? What kinds of things do they say? 

A.  Yes, I have heard from readers, and most of the time they want to know when the next book will be released.  Smile!  I have gotten very good reviews on my books so far.  

Q.  What do you think makes a good story? What are your favorite book genres in writing and reading? Why?

A.  The characters and their lives make a good story.  My favorite genre to write is romantic suspense, and I read everything.  I always like a lot of suspense in my stories.  

Q.  Who are you favorite authors to read? 

A.  This is a difficult question.  It would probably be easier to tell you the authors I don't like, and I would never do that because I know they worked hard on their stories, too.  

Want to learn more about Sandra or contact her? She can be found here:

Website

Blog

Facebook

Linkedin

Amazon Author Page

Now that we know a little about Sandra let look at her newest book.

The games they play can lead them to love or ruin. 

 Melanie Dubois detests her family’s casino business. The way this addiction destroys people has her on a tear of magnificent proportions. Then again, this young lady has been put through a train wreck of her own design. She distrusts everybody except for the people who are determined to use Melanie as a poster-child for zealots. 

 Mike Mercer has spent nearly a year in a deep cover mission for the FBI. The one fly in the ointment of completing his objective to take down a group of dangerous anti-gambling zealots is a fiery-tempered, blonde-haired woman named Melanie DuBois. Worse than that, she’s got a passion brewing just beneath the surface that’s an even deadlier attraction. 

Fighting for your life is never easy when the odds are stacked against you.

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Excerpt

Dressed for the day in pale blue sweats, Mel stood in the drab, dark kitchen of Janet Batten’s house and debated what to do. The growl of her stomach made the decision for her, she’d fix breakfast. She switched on the light over the sink, and reached into a lower cabinet for a couple of skillets. She poured olive oil in one pan and went to the freezer for sausage to put in the other one. Slowly, she drew ingredients from the refrigerator and placed them on the butcher block counter before she went to the pantry for potatoes and onions. 
     Early morning was her favorite part of the day, it was quiet and no one was around. 
     Why was she being left out of everything this group was doing? After being here for a month, she was still being treated like an outsider. It was almost like she was still at home. Why wouldn’t they let her help? She’d been picketing, but she knew there was more going on than just that. 
     Did they consider her a part of the establishment they were trying to destroy? True, she would inherit a portion of the Odyssey Casinos, but she didn’t want any part of the company. Why should she when her family treated her like a wicked stepchild? If that was the problem, she’d tell Janet that she would sell her part and use the money to help those who were addicted to gambling. 
     She didn’t want to belong to an industry that destroyed anyone, or their livelihoods. She’d led a privileged life on the backs of losers, living in a huge home, going to private schools and college because of them. 
     Thinking of the Odysseys’ always made her think of her family. Her relationship with them had been rocky for many years. Even so, she loved her sister, Jolene, and they’d been great friends when they were younger. After her sister was saved from the monster who’d kidnapped her, Mel had wanted to go see her, but didn’t want to risk being forced to leave this group by her mother and stepfather. 
     Absorbed in her thoughts, knife in hand chopping onions vigorously, she didn’t hear anyone come into the kitchen. A large shadow appeared on the wall in front of her, Mel swung around with the knife pointed at the person’s chest. 
     Recognizing Janet, her heart still pounding, she lowered the sharp edge. "You scared me to death."
   "I’m sorry I frightened you," Janet said, stepping back. "You must’ve been in deep thought because I said, ‘Good Morning’ when I first walked in." 
     "I was thinking about how I don’t feel included in your plans. It feels like home. I was always an outsider there, too."
     The older woman wrapped the younger one in her arms. 
"We didn’t mean to do that, Melanie. You should’ve told me sooner how you felt," Janet said, releasing her and gazing into the girl’s blue eyes. "We want you to feel wanted and comfortable in your new home."
      "Then why can’t I do something besides picket?" Janet probably thought she sounded like a big crybaby. She turned away to keep busy as she waited for the answer, she scrapped the ingredients from the cutting board into the skillet. 
     "It looks like you’re doing something besides picketing. Do you have enough for everyone?"
     Mel glanced at Janet and caught a smile on her face. "I’ve got enough for a small army, but you know I didn’t mean this." She poured in the scrambled eggs and put bread in the toaster. 
     Janet walked to the fridge drawing out butter and milk to place on the table. "After breakfast we’re having a meeting, and it would be helpful for you to tell your family’s story," and then casually asked, "Would you be willing to do that?"
     "Sure, I want to." That was an understatement; she couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the evils of gambling. Yeah, she’d gladly let them know what the casinos had done to her dad. Janet had promised her when she came here she would become involved with major activities and maybe this was the start. 
     Janet stopped beside her, caressing the top of Melanie’s head. "It’ll go a long way to help alleviate the others distrust of you."
     "Thanks for the opportunity to explain myself." So that’s the reason she hadn’t been able to get close to any of these people except Janet. Well hell, if that’s why they were ignoring her, she’d spell it out why she was here. 
     "I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you."
     "Thanks," Mel murmured, as she darted a glance at the salt and pepper-haired woman while Janet took silverware and plates to the long, scarred wooden table. "Why are you so nice to me?" 
     Janet walked to stand beside her. "I had a daughter about your age." She touched Melanie’s arm. "If she had lived, I would want her to be like you." 
     Mel leaned toward Janet. "I wish I’d had a mother who loved me." It would have been nice to have someone really care about her. She glanced past the woman as she heard people streaming into the kitchen. "We’d better hurry, here they come."
     The first person she saw was Al Slavery, who could miss that evil scarred face. It was all she could do to keep from flinching as he drew closer to her. Next came Dan dressed in his usual jeans and sweater with a swagger that would turn on most women. Several young stringy-haired women in sweats and a few older men followed behind him. 
     "Leave the juice on the counter along with the food. It won’t hurt them to help themselves today." Janet winked at her. 
     Mel smiled at Janet, saying, "Good idea." She swished the food from the skillets onto platters. 
     Janet winked at her and turned toward the people before they could sit at the table. "Come and get it before it gets cold." 
     The guys grabbed plates and rushed forward. Mel backed away from the counter so she wouldn’t be trampled in their attempt to get to the food. It would be a miracle if there was any left; she’d probably have to settle for a bowl of cereal. 
     "Hey, you guys leave some food for the rest of us," Janet barked, sounding like a drill sergeant. 
     Mel suppressed a grin, watching the men take smaller portions. She might get to eat some of her cooking after all. She flinched when Slavery purposely brushed against her scowling at him. 
      The man gave her the creeps. 

*****

     A couple of hours later, Melanie watched people gather in the living room from where she sat on the brown-striped couch. None of them came near her, even though she scooted to one end. They obviously preferred to sit in the orange and beige matching chairs or on the floor rather than next to her. The red and black flannel-shirted man she knew as George glared at her as he took his seat. 
     When Janet, her forehead slightly beaded with perspiration, walked into the room and stood in front of them, everyone stopped talking and expectant faces turned toward her. She stood in the middle of the huge family room, light glowing down on her, making her look like a prophet with her arms spread. 
     A hush settled over everyone, faces rose expectantly as though waiting to hear from their savior. Well, she was in a way since the woman had taken them in after they’d lost everything to gaming. It was amazing how these vacant-faces lit up when Janet spoke. 
     "Let’s pray for the salvation of those we are trying to save from the wickedness of gambling." Janet bowed her head. "‚Dear God, bless our crusade to save poor souls from the hell holes of iniquity. Watch over us tonight and keep us safe as we picket before the Odyssey, and help us reach the spirit of those who have lost their way. Amen." She raised her head, asking, "Are you ready soldiers?" 
     People jumped to their feet, waving their hands and yelling, "Yes. Yes, we are." 
     "We’ll do anything you ask of us," George, a ruddy-faced man, said. 
     Smiling, she stuck her hands palm down in front of her and waved them up and down. "Calm down, children." When everyone sat, she nodded at Melanie. "Many of you have wondered why Melanie is here, since she’s part of the industry we’re against, so today we’re going to give her a chance to explain."
     Mel stood and walked to stand beside Janet. The woman put her arms around her shoulders, whispering, "Your story will rouse them even more." 
     Mel smiled up at the maternal gray-haired woman. "Thanks for allowing me to join this wonderful group. I do want to help, and I’m willing to do anything." She took a deep breath, gazing into their faces as she rubbed her moist palms down her sweat pants. How could she make these people believe she belonged here with them? 
     "Humph. Seeing is believin’," George said from his seat on the couch. 
     "It’s okay, go ahead. There won’t be any more interruptions," Janet said, frowning at the man. 
     "I don’t blame him for not believing me." She clenched her hands and lowered her chin to her chest. "I’m ashamed to admit my family owns the Odyssey Casinos.‛ 
     "I know you don’t like what your casino and others are doing to our families here in the Mid-West any more than the rest of us." Janet hugged Melanie, releasing her a moment later. "Why don’t you explain what gambling did to your family."
     Her chest swelled as she inhaled, then exhaled and moved her hands nervously as she gripped them in front of her. "My father was addicted to gambling, and it killed him." Not able to stand still, she paced in front of the people, no longer seeing them. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. "My father became indebted to loan sharks, and in order to pay them off, he became involved in a scheme to sell the Odysseys to the Moneymaker Casino, a company involved in money laundering."
     Damn. Double damn. Why did he do it? She bit her lower lip to keep them from trembling as she talked about the man she’d loved. "His partner didn’t trust him and, believing Daddy was double crossing him, killed him." Coming to a stop in front of them, with her head high, she added heatedly, "My father would be alive today if it weren’t for gambling. I intend to close every single one of them." She’d make the casinos pay for what they did to her father. 
     Loud clapping followed her last statement. 
"That is so sad, Melanie. You may not have lost your home like the others here, but your loss was something far more precious.‛ Janet touched the younger woman’s arm. ‚Do you have more to add?‛ 
     Get a grip, Mel. Don’t fall apart now. Gaining control of her emotions, she said, "Yes, I do." Forgive me, Sis, for what I’m about to say about you."One addiction leads to another, my dad and my sister were both addicted to gambling, smoking and alcohol. My sister was able to break the drinking habit recently by going through rehab."
     "Oh sure, she has. How long has she been off alcohol?" George asked, in a scoffing tone. 
     Mel gazed at the older, red-faced man. She knew he’d lost his home, his wife and his job because of gambling, but she didn’t think that was his only problem. There’d been a time or two she’d caught him taking a swig from a wine bottle he’d stashed in different spots around the house. Once, she’d even caught him digging one out of the snow. 
     He’s definitely an alcoholic. Only Jolene had conquered her demons and George was still battling his. Janet had to know he was drinking. Mel couldn’t understand why the woman allowed him to continue to stay in her home. 
     "Only about six months, but she goes to her AA meetings regularly." She hoped Jolene was still sticking to the program, but Mel didn’t really know. 
     "Oh, she’ll fall off the wagon," George sneered. "They all do."
     Had the man tried to quit drinking and failed? "My sister will be one of those who’ll have the strength to stay off alcohol," she said, glaring at the man. Jolene better not start again. She’d brain her if she didn’t stay with the program. She and her sister had their problems, but Mel still wanted Jolene to be happy. The damn men Joley got involved with used her because she was desperate for love. 
     The pinch on her arm halted her speech. Obviously, Janet wanted her to stick to the topic of gambling. 
     She glanced up at the woman, saying, "I’m sorry I strayed from the topic." 
     "Well, it’s true that people light up and drink when they gamble, but it’s a problem that can be addressed another day. Thank you for telling your reasons for being here, Melanie." Janet patted Melanie’s shoulder, giving her a little shove. "It’s time for everyone to get their clothes ready for tonight. It’s going to be extremely cold with the wind blowing and snow expected any time so put on your warmest clothes." 
     Oh shit, why couldn’t they wait for summer to picket? She hated winter. Walking away from Janet, she decided she’d better make sure her long underwear was clean, or she would freeze her ass off tonight. 
     When she reached the stairs, she glanced back and noticed Al, the man she’d nicknamed Scarface because of the long scar on one side of his face, in a huddle with Janet and Dan. What’s up?