Blood And Water Excerpt

It has been a long time so here is a scene I wrote from  Blood and Water By Katherine Rochholz Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved

” It was hours until dawn, but the day had been finished for hours, and I had to make a choice. I looked at my sleeping sons, so innocent in their sleep, my hand on my still flat stomach. My third child grew there. But the ware has starting. And did I turn my back on my beliefs ingrained in me since I was born or did I leave my husband and take up the spot as the leader of the rebels? I had been unofficially since the incident. Never have I had to make a bigger decision so long after the sunset and so far away from the dawn. But I knew I had to make a choice. And either way ti would go against something I stood for. Leave my husband or abandon my beliefs on freedom. My beliefs I fought for when I joined the Navy in 2001. I closed my eyes and a tear escaped. The last tear for my husband. I turned and quickly started to pack. Come morning I and my children would be gone. By the dawn he would know the choice I made. By the green light of dawn the Green Coats will have lost their First Lady and the Blue Coats will have gained their leader. And I will have made a decision so long after the sunset of a united nation and so far from the dawn of a new age of Unity.”

And Here is a second Excerpt just because I love you all! Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved

“I stand in the field that used to feed the world now it is just a barren wasteland. The bombs have killed the land. I look up at the heavens as the rain falls. I close my eyes. It washes the blood from my hands and the dirt from my face. I finally look at the ground again and watch for awhile, as my heart rate returns to normal, the rain washing away the lives of the fallen. Blood. I look at and watch the watered down blood drip from them. The rain washes away the color, even from the land, but the blood, the life, remains on my hands and in this now barren land. My worst act and my greatest has killed this land I love so much. I hope one day when they write the history books the generation after the end of my life forgives me because as the rain washes away the evidence of the lives I have taken, as it washes away the red that stains my hands, I know I will never forgive myself. Because this war for freedom is my greatest achievement and my worst act. I close my eyes once more and I let the rain wash away the red of the blood that will forever stain my hands.”

Night of Murder Michele V. Entry UnForgotten Anthology

All rights are reserved by the author

Night of Murder
Sharon woke with a start, bolting up right. She strained her ears.
Her husband Fredrick sat abruptly beside her. Sharon caught sight of her reflection beside her bed. Her bleach blonde hair was sticking out all over the place, with bags beneath her tired eyes. Her husband too was a mess. His ginger hair stood out on all ends, and his stubble had begun to look untidy. His eyes too, had heavy bags beneath them.
“I think someone just broke in,” she whispered with a squeak.
Fred nodded. “You go and get a weapon; I’ll go and get the kids and call the police.”
Sharon swallowed hard. “All right.” I’ll grab a couple of weapons and deal with them- just keep the girls calm. Vicky and Sabrina will freak out if they find out otherwise.”
She slipped on her bathrobe over her night gown and crept down the stairs.
Sharon sneaked into the kitchen and quietly pulled open the draw. She slipped a meat cleaver into her sock, and grabbed a pair of scissors. The door opened. She jumped and spun around, slamming the door closed. Swallowing hard, she slipped the scissors into her pocket.
“Welcome to the party,” the man growled. “Come and join your husband and children in the living room.”
She shakily led the way and found Fredrick and kids on the fabric blue sofa.
“Did you do it in time?” she asked him quietly. Fredrick gave her a small nod. “Kids ok- they didn’t hurt them, did they?”
Fredrick shook his head. “The kids are fine.”
“Mummy, Daddy; who are these men? Why are they in our house?” Sabrina questioned worriedly.
Fredrick whispered back to them. “They’re just here for a bit- they won’t be around for very long.”
“Do they want a late night drink too, Mummy?” Vicky asked innocently.
Sharon cleared her throat, “I don’t think they’re thirsty babe. They’re probably just being a bit naughty- and hiding from their Mum and Dad.”
Sharon turned her attention to Fredrick, speaking calmly and very softly so not to frighten the children.
“I got what I needed. But I am going to have to get you and the kids out of the way- it might get chaotic in here- and I don’t fancy you and the kids watching me get murdered by these people.”
She looked around, observing the captors. They were both armed. each holding a Gluck and what appeared to be a modified water pistol. It was green and yellow, and looked as though it was a mere toy.
“Are those… plastic guns?” she chided.
The bigger man; who appeared to be the one in charge, sniggered. He had a full grown beard with black greying hair.
He was a frumpy man, growling as he glared at her. “Do you really want to find out?”
“How about firing a shot at the floor; see if it fires big boy bullets or wimpy water.”
The man grinned, eagerly wanting to use his gun. He lowered his weapon and pointed the nozzle to the floor.
“-Wait!” Fredrick yelped. “Can I take my kids out in the garden; they shouldn’t see this…”
The bearded man grunted his approval. Fredrick wasted no time and hastily encouraged the girls out into the cool dark garden, grabbing their coats in front of the door.
Fred grabbed two watering cans and encouraged the girls to give the flowers a late night drink.
The accomplice followed Fred and the children outside, checking his gun was still in the holster.
The boss sneered, watching as the bald, medium built, tattooed man stood guard.
The bearded boss returned his attention to Sharon.
He aimed his gun and fired. The loud bang rang through the house.
Sharon screamed, jumping out of the way.
The man burst out laughing, and fired another shot.
Sharon screamed again, backing away from the gunman. She had to waste his bullets.\par
“You’re crazy!” she shrieked and ran for the stairs. The gunman followed her, jumping two stairs at a time.
Sharon rushed behind her bedroom door, pulling the scissors from her bathrobe pocket.\par
Her heart pounded. Her hands shook and her legs struggled to refrain from collapsing. \par
Seeing her shadow on the wall, the bearded, frumpy man fired another shot, missing her head by half an inch.
Screaming she backed herself into a corner. She shook, tears rolled down her face in terror. She had failed to keep her family safe. He grinned, aiming the gun again. He pulled the trigger. Closing her eyes tightly, she waited for death.
“Bollocks!” the man growled. She opened her eye, watching as he threw down his toyish gun and pulled out the Gluck.
Temporarily distracted, he checked to make sure his gun was loaded.
She slipped the knife out from her sock and aimed, and waited. Noticing movement, he straightened up with a menacing grin.
She took her shot, throwing the blade right at him. He screamed, holding the blade. Blood poured down his face, screaming as the blade embedded in his eye. Growling, in agonizing pain, he pulled the blade from his eye. He screamed again. Taking no chances, she dived for his gun and went back into her corner. He stared horrified; the eye ball had been torn from his socket.
“You bitch!” he snarled. “You’ll pay for that.”
Glaring at her, he suddenly realized that she had his gun. She aimed, and gave him an icy smile.
“You should have picked another house,” she told him, and pulled the trigger. The shot went wide, missing his head by a generous foot. The man laughed, mocking her. She adjusted her aim and pulled the trigger again. His laughter stopped abruptly and he slumped backward against the blood splattered wall.
The bullet had hit his head, a little left of the center.
Swallowing hard and shaking violently, she slowly approached the corpse and took the Gluck from his dead, slack hand.
Gaining her posture, her heart pounded against her chest. She descended down the stairs shakily, and headed for the garden.
The sunrise reflected through the misty garden windows.
The bald, tattooed accomplice watched as Fredrick and the girls admired the yellow and the white roses.
Sharon raised the Gluck and cleared her throat.
The man turned around, momentarily surprised. Seeing the Gluck, his surprise turned to horror.
He reached for his own weapon. Taking no chances, Sharon pulled the trigger. The loud bang broke the silence and frightened off the nearby birds. Fredrick jumped in alarm, immediately pulling the girls behind him.
The girls screamed and clinged to their father’s legs in terror.
The bald man opened his mouth, allowing a fountain of blood to pool out, joining with the blood pouring out of his throat.
He choked, coughing up blood as he tried to put pressure on the lethal wound. Sputtering, he collapsed to the floor, convulsing and then finally laid still. Swallowing hard, shaking violently, she hugged her family.
“Thank god, you three are unharmed. Listen, I’m likely to go to prison for killing those men. You will come visit me, won’t you?”
Fredrick nodded with a small smile. “You’re a heroine- course we will.”
The door opened behind them with a bang. Sharon spun around, Gluck still in hand.
It was the police. Relieved, she lowered her weapon.
“I’ve got to go now,” she said to Fredrick and her daughters.
The girls hugged their mum, planting a kiss on each cheek.
“Be good for your daddy.”
Finally turning her attention to the police, she shook her head sadly.
“You’re too late. Our captors are already dead. This one here was the accomplice, and the boss man is upstairs in the master bedroom.”
Without another word, Sharon led the police out of their home.
She arrived at the police station in handcuffs. The Gluck had been taken from her, and the forensic team had been called to go back to the house to collect the rest of the evidence.
The room was small and dank. The officers had allowed her to drink a small cup of tap water.
Slowly, she began to give her statement.
End

Doctor Who

So I have a new TV obsession, It happens, I love things a bit to much and become obsessed, but I am thinking a Doctor Who Part on Nov. 23rd 2013.  Doctor Who Food, Doctor Who Drinks, and You Dress As Your Favorite Doctor Who Character… But alas all my local peeps are not excited as I am, which leaves me sad…. Well here is a picture of the Doctors I found online….

 

Angels Cried

I am torn about my feelings of this book, part of me is so proud to be a part of this project, the other part is saddened that this project even has to exist. As everybody knows on 12/14/12 Sandy Hill Elementary was attacked and 26 angels found their way to heaven that day. There have been many tears shed and humanity has shown that there is still a sense of love and unity as the nation’s, the world’s, heart reached out to Newtown, CT and the families effected by this tragic event. I was contacted by Stephen Wilson asking me to be a part of this project and I said yes, without thought without hesitation, as an Indie author there may not be much that I an do, but to write a short or a poem and donate it to raise money for the effected community was the bare minimum I could do, I have inserted myself in several projects to help these families. But this has got to be the one I am most proud of. Why? Because indie authors around the world, the world not just the United States, but the world, stepped up and donated their works for this anthology. All the works are wonderful and express so much emotion, that I can only hope that the friends and families of the victims, and any person going through similar grief, will find a level of comfort from these short stories and poems. The souls of many have been scared by this tragic event, and I pray that as a nation, as a world, we can step up and prevent another community from having their hearts and souls torn apart from a tragic event such as this one in Newtown, CT.

On 12/14/12, tragedy struck. Authors and artists combined, so that their expressions of emotion could be put to good use. Contributors from around the world came together and we shared our souls for charity. Our effort has combined to create the anthology “Angels Cried.” Please purchase this book. The proceeds go to the Sandy Hook School Support Fund, managed by the United Way.

Contributors:

Meghan Arcuri
Michael Bailey
Jen Baker
Ency Bearis
Julian Brooklyn
Allison Bruning
Elizabeth E. Castillo
Crysta Dawn
Guy Anthony De Marco
T.J. Edison
George S. Geisinger
Charlie Giardino
Marianne Halbert
Reyna Hawk
Zrinka Jelic
Cyma Rizwaan Khan
John Kovacich
Rachel E. Kovacs
Catherine Mahoney
Don Martin
Tami Kidd Masincupp
Paul Morrison
Melisha N. Murray
Eri Nelson
Matthew Christopher Nelson
Roseville Nidea
Linda Bonney Olin
Moses Opara
Alan Place
Katherine Rochholz
Kit Roe
L.K. Russ
Sara St. Claire
Crystal Schall
Zantippy Skiphop
Daron Smith
Brien Sparling
Gretchen Steen
Christena Antonia Valaire Williams
Lisa Williamson
Stephen L. Wilson

You can Buy Now, just click the link of your preferred vendor:

Or you can do a direct donation via PayPal If you choose the PayPal option please make sure you include your email address and if you need a .mobi, .epub or .pdf file.

Twelve Unlikely Heroes John F. MacArthur Review

Twelve Unlikely Heroes: How God Commissioned Unexpected People in the Bible and What He Wants to Do with YouTwelve Unlikely Heroes: How God Commissioned Unexpected People in the Bible and What He Wants to Do with You by John F. MacArthur

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

“What kind of people does God use to accomplish His work?”

Far from the children’s tales depicted in picture books and nursery rhymes, the men and women highlighted in the Bible were unnervingly real. They faltered. They struggled. And at times, they fell short. Yet God worked through them in surprising and incredible ways to accomplish His purposes. Scripture does not hide their weaknesses, caricature their strengths, or spin their stories as a display of human nobility. Instead, it describes these heroes of the faith with unflinching honesty and delivers an unexpected ending: “God is not ashamed to be called their God” (Hebrews 11:16).

In “Twelve Unlikely Heroes,” pastor and best-selling author John MacArthur uses his deep knowledge of the Bible and history to take us back to see these three-dimensional men and women in their own times and cultures. In doing so, it becomes clear how their dramatic stories apply to us today. People who might at first seem foreign quickly become familiar and unforgettable–particularly as they reveal the true Hero behind every witness, the power counterbalancing every weakness, “the Author and Finisher of “our faith” (Hebrews 12:1).”

I love when I can learn something from a book and this one doesn’t disappoint!  I found out a lot about the twelve unlikely heroes of this book.  This is the first book I read of John MacArthur and was not disappointed in the book; however that being said there was something missing, can’t quite put my finger on it but something left me wanting more from this book.  Though this is a good starting point for anybody wanting to know more about people that are spoken about in the bible, it would be just that a starting point.  This book took me longer than most to read, but it was very enlightening and informative. And this book encourages me to read his other works or to seek out more information about these twelve unlikely heroes.

*Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book for free and all opinions above are my own. I did not receive any other compensation for this review.*

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The Reason William Sirls Review

The ReasonThe Reason by William Sirls

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

When facing the impossible, will you believe?
Storm clouds gather over a small Michigan town. As thunder shakes the sky, the lights inside St. Thomas Church flicker . . . and then go out.

All is black until a thick bolt of lightning slices the sky, striking the church’s large wooden cross—leaving it ablaze and splintered in two.

When the storm ends—the search for answers begins.

James Lindy, the church’s blind minister, wonders how his small congregation can repair the cross and keep their faith in the midst of adversity. And he hears the words “only believe.”

I liked this book because the situations are believable many of us go through many of the things that these characters when though, it was relate-able and that is why I would recommend this book to anybody.  These characters ask questions that we all want answers to, in fact we all have asked these questions a time or two and though these characters don’t have the answers they still have faith and still believe. The author really showed that no matter what God loves us and He always knows what is best for us and that things in our life happen to make us who we are and to lead us down the path we are suppose to be on. The supporting characters in this book I loved, they were there for the main characters when they needed them and that was the best thing of all.  I don’t tear at most books but there was a tear in my eye at some parts of this book.  I was on the edge of my seat and read this book very quickly! I was disappointed about some of the loose ends still trailing in the wind a the end of the book but I still would recommend this book to anyone.

*Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book for free and all opinions above are my own. I did not receive any other compensation for this review.*

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