Tag Archives: Goodreads giveaway

Broken Pictures on My Blog and the Goodreads Giveaway Ends

Well, Murphy’s Law is in full effect here right now. The Goodreads Giveaway ends tomorrow, and we’ve been frantically trying to get the hiccups in the transition from lmmay.com to lynnkilmore.com sorted out before then, but this latest bug just hit thirty minutes ago

Most of the links to pictures on this website are now currently broken. Sorry about that.

I uploaded the pictures of the Bing cherries to get ready to post about them to the blog tonight … and accidentally triggered a bug that broke the links to almost every other picture on this website. We think we know what happened–and it’s something that would’ve broken as soon as I uploaded any sort of media after the transition. It may take a bit to fix, but we’ll get there. In the meantime, please pardon the blank spots where the covers and photos should be.

Sooner or later the pictures and the book covers on this website will work again … and in the meantime I can look at the website and see what it would look as mostly text (and laugh).

Click here for the Goodreads Giveaway link if you want to enter to win a signed copy of Soul Cages.

I’ve got my fingers crossed that the bugs are shaken out of this website by next week. I’ll do a blog post with pictures once they’ve got things fixed.

Cheers, Lynn

Rajah Poses for the Camera (Part Two) and a Goodreads Giveaway

The internet, of course, was created so that cat videos and pictures could be easily shared (huge grin–I’m kidding). I realized it’d been several weeks since I last posted a picture of Rajah, so here’s one of him with a slight “glow” to his eyes.

He is doing well despite being almost 13 years of age. He had to have dental surgery last week, but is recovering well and has a great time getting in front of my computer screens every chance he can.

As I’ve already blogged about, my pen name is changing this year from L. M. May to Lynn Kilmore. There’s a Goodreads Giveaway for a signed copy of Soul Cages that will end right about midnight on June 9th. This will be the last time that a print copy of the 1st edition is offered in a giveaway under that old pen name of L. M. May.

A second edition of the novel is going to be coming out in August 2014 with the new pen name on it.

Click here for the Goodreads Giveaway link.

Have a great week.

Cheers, Lynn

Soul Cages – Part One. Dreams in the Desert. 20.

My husband and dog are both definitely on the mend from their injuries from the dog attack, so I’m taking a quick moment to post the next chapter of Soul Cages as I promised. Oh, and the Goodreads giveaway of 9 signed copies will end by midnight on Nov. 18. (Soul Cages is PG-13.)

Soul Cages

 Lynn Kilmore

Second edition copyright © 2014 by Lynn Kilmore

Published by Osuna Publishing

This story is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogue, and locales are either drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, and locales is entirely coincidental.

Part One. Dreams in the Desert

20

I crawled out of bed at six when my cell phone alarm went off. Thank God, I’d been spared another vivid dream. I needed to get back into a morning running routine no matter how tired I felt.

As I dressed in running clothes, I thought about the night before. Albuquerque sewer roaches had proved to be fast. The roaches loved to congregate in clusters next to the metal sewer covers. Henry had snuck up on each cluster to flick on his flashlight, causing them to scatter. If I’d let him, he would have done it for hours.

I’d convinced Dad to let me keep his keys, as long as he got them back before he left for work at seven.

The morning air was cool as I let myself out of the house. The Sandia Mountains blocked the rising sun. I did a slow run around my block ten times, studying the houses—there were barred windows, home security stickers, BEWARE OF DOG signs. One portion of the run I nicknamed Street of Barking Dogs due to the racket made as I jogged past. On a longer run I’d head for the bike trail to escape the incessant barking.

When I got back, Dad was microwaving his breakfast and had put out paper plates and napkins for everyone.

Dad said, “Mom and Henry are sleeping.” He pulled out his paper plate from the microwave—French toast sticks—and ate them with maple syrup and a sliced banana.

I sat at the kitchen table and put his keys on the smooth wooden surface, pushing them toward him. “I’ll see if Mom can get keys made from hers today.”

Dad looked apologetic. “I’ll have the car since it’s my first day. This Saturday we’ll drive over to a hardware store and have it done.”

“Okay. Oh, Ben was wondering if Henry and I could join him and his girlfriend Jin to explore Sandia Crest on Saturday.”

Dad paused in tossing his plate into the garbage.

I could tell he was torn. He knew Henry would love such a trip, but he hadn’t met Ben and Jin.

Dad threw the soggy paper plate away. “Not until I meet this Ben person first. And definitely not this Saturday, it’ll have to be a later one.”

He picked up his briefcase, made for the kitchen archway, stopped, and came back to me. “I know you’re angry about having to move out here for senior year, but your mother and I honestly believe we have a chance at curing Henry before it’s too late.” He leaned over and kissed me absentmindedly on the forehead. “Pastor Andervender wants to meet with you for counseling on Friday morning at eight-thirty. Be good and help your mother today. She’s exhausted from all the excitement.”

A counseling session with Andervender, just what I DON’T need.

************** End of Part One. 20. *****************

Take care until next time, L.M.

Soul Cages – Part One. Dreams in the Desert. 19.

When we last left off in Soul Cages (PG-13), Marian had just fought with Matthew and her mom.

Soul Cages

 Lynn Kilmore

Second edition copyright © 2014 by Lynn Kilmore

Published by Osuna Publishing

This story is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogue, and locales are either drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, and locales is entirely coincidental.

Part One. Dreams in the Desert

19

I kept picking up my cell phone to hit Aunt Letty’s number, and putting it down again. Once I called my aunt, I’d be crossing a line I couldn’t return from. Mom and Dad had been enraged when I called Letty about the liquid diet the quack healer put Henry on. The result of the call had been Aunt Letty showing up in person, and a screaming argument which left Dad and Letty barely speaking to each other. Letty had won the fight and the quack’s treatment regimen was dropped, but the price had been high.

If I called Letty in to deal with Andervender, this time the break between Letty and my parents would likely be permanent.

To keep my hands busy I ripped open a moving box crammed with winter clothes.

Dad pounded on the door. “Open up, now.”

I unlocked my door. “It’s open.”

Dad came in first, followed by Mom. They sat down on my bed and watched me unpack sweaters into a dresser.

Mom said, “You were rude to Pastor Andervender, and rude to Matthew.”

“I’m not going to any more Youth Group meetings,” I said.

Mom shook her head. “You’ll continue going, or you’ll find yourself grounded.”

I dropped a blue wool sweater and stood up. “I don’t belong there. I’m miserable at First Beginnings.”

Mom said, “You need to go for your spiritual growth.”

“I’d rather go to a church like Grannie’s. I’m sure there’s a Methodist church nearby I could go to instead.”

Both Dad and Mom were taken aback.

Finally Dad got out, “Ma took you to her church?”

“Of course she did,” I said. “She invited me to go, she didn’t force me to do so.”

Dad was clearly dumbfounded by this. Mom, on the other hand, looked annoyed that Grannie had been sneaking me off to church for years.

Mom patted the bedspread, inviting me to sit next to her, but I ignored her. Mom said, “You have to understand. Pastor Andervender has special gifts, powers given to him because he does God’s will instead of what is politically correct.”

I said the next words slowly, feeling my way forward. “So you guys think it’s okay for Pastor Andervender and his followers to pound on Jewish people’s doors at Hanukkah to harass them? Does that mean Dad will be harassing the Jews at his new workplace when he starts tomorrow?”

Dad winced.

“Really, Marian,” Mom said, “don’t tell me you’ve been digging up lies. Who told you this?”

I thought of Ben, but said, “A neighbor told me. They’re not lies. The Jewish community really did file complaints against Pastor Andervender and First Beginnings last December for harassment.”

My words made Dad rub his bald spot.

Mom said, “There are a lot of people who are jealous of Pastor Andervender’s gifts, and they’ll say anything to ruin him. Gena told me about how miserable things got in Las Cruces before they abandoned the false church they were members of, and started their own independent church here in Albuquerque.”

I said, “I don’t care! I don’t want to be part of a tiny church full of Jew haters.”

Mom stormed out, while Dad blanched. He swallowed a couple of times and said, “Well, we’ve had a rough weekend. We’ll talk about this more later.”

He retreated out of my bedroom. I listened to his tread going down the hall, followed by the office door being firmly shut.

I stepped out into the hall to go listen at the office door, but Henry heard me. He ran out of his bedroom, waving a flashlight around like a trophy, and said, “Let’s hunt sewer roaches!”

Unfortunately, it was dark enough outside for the roaches to come out.

I shuddered at the thought of chasing huge roaches. I really ought to catch a few in a jar and dump them on John’s head for giving Henry this idea.

Henry and I went down the halls to the front door. I couldn’t make out the words being said from behind either office door. Too muffled.

As I was pulling open the front door, I realized that I had no way to lock it behind us. In fact, since the lock was a double-cylinder deadbolt, if our parents had locked it, Henry and I would have been stuck in the house.

None of the exits could be unlocked by hand to get outside—all needed keys. Not to mention the locked bars on the front and back doors.

We gotta get keys, or we’ll be pestering Mom and Dad every time we want to go outside. And what if there’s a fire? Need keys on a hook next to the front door just in case.

“Wait here,” I said to Henry. “I’ve got to get keys.”

I walked down the hall to the office door. Both Mom and Dad were in there, their voices muffled.

I rapped on the door. Dad opened it a crack.

I heard Mom say into her cell phone, “Wait a minute, Marian’s here.”

Let me guess. Mom called Gena.

Dad said to me, “What is it?”

“I need keys so I can take Henry out to look for roaches,” I said. “I promised.”

Dad dug into his pocket, and yanked out a ring of keys, holding them out to me through the crack. “Here. Don’t lose them.”

“Um, Dad.” I took the ring, warm from being in Dad’s pocket. “We need to plan on getting more keys made so Henry and I have our own copies, it—”

“Sure.” Dad nudged the door shut.

After a few seconds, I heard Mom talk softly into the cell phone.

************** End of Part One. 19. *****************

See you next week! L.M.

Soul Cages – Part One. Dreams in the Desert. 15.

Hope you all are having a great October. The first giveaway of a signed copy of Soul Cages on Goodreads went so well that I will have 9 more copies to offer in a Goodreads giveaway from Oct. 19 to Nov. 18.

Here comes Part One. 15. of Soul Cages (PG-13). Enjoy.

Soul Cages

 Lynn Kilmore

Second edition copyright © 2014 by Lynn Kilmore

Published by Osuna Publishing

This story is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogue, and locales are either drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, and locales is entirely coincidental.

Part One. Dreams in the Desert

15

Dad, with Henry next to him, found me in the dining area. “Are you all right?” Dad said.

Mom came over. “She’s okay. Thin air got to her. Barbara thinks she’s dehydrated.”

Dad took my empty cup from the table, walked over to a carafe of ice water, filled it up, and brought it back. “Drink.”

Henry fidgeted as the crowding got worse. I swallowed the water as quickly as I could.

Andervender’s voice came closer from the other side of the curtains, which meant he was trying to make his way toward the dining area.

I said, “Maybe I should take Henry to see the Sunday School room. It’d be empty now.”

Dad studied Henry, then nodded. “We’ll come and get you when it’s time.”

The door to the back rooms had been propped open with a brick. Henry and I hurried to the Sunday School door. Peering through the mesh glass, I checked that the kids were gone. All clear.

We went in. I shoved the door shut while Henry went up to a crude painting of Noah’s ark covering a wall. He touched each animal, naming it. “Elephant, zebra, deer, rabbit, giraffe, …”

A comforting litany, and the smell of markers and finger paint would help Henry feel safe.

Then I heard Andervender’s muffled voice coming closer and closer. He must be headed to his office to get out of that black robe.

I peeked out. Andervender’s office door was open, while Matthew and John lingered outside. Both of them caught sight of me before I could duck back. Crap, I shouldn’t have looked.

I studied the room’s concrete walls—no windows, just the one door. We’re stuck. Tempting to lock the door, but that would create a fuss if the Andervenders did stop by to visit Henry and me. With any luck they’d just go back to the dining area.

I heard footsteps, and knew with a sinking sensation it had to be them. So I scrambled over to the teacher’s chair, moved it so I blocked access to Henry, and sat down.

Andervender came to stand at the glass, looking in, and opened the door when he caught sight of us. He said, “May I come in?” as he stepped inside. “Feeling better?”

Henry froze in tracing a penguin’s flipper.

“Yeah.” I fought the urge to scoot my chair as far away from him as possible. His aura of hate was gone, but it lurked there underneath the surface, like beetles waiting to be exposed by overturning a rock.

Matthew and John stood at the open doorway. I cursed my dress, for Matthew was way more interested in looking at me today. John’s gaze kept anxiously going from Andervender to Henry and back.

Andervender cleared his throat. “I know this may be awkward for you, but sometimes, well—sometimes a parishioner will be overcome by the Holy Spirit during one of my sermons.”

I clamped my mouth shut. The words were there in my mind, waiting to be spoken, like a prophecy. But there was no way I was going to tell him what I’d sensed as I’d listened to him preach.

Be careful, an inner voice warned. This man is dangerous, and he won’t like it if you criticize his sermons.

Andervender said, “Well, make sure you drink every hour for the next couple of days. We’ll see you at Youth Group this evening.” He slapped his hands together and rubbed them. “I’d better get back to my flock.”

He squeezed past Matthew and John, and disappeared out of sight.

Matthew blocked the doorway. I couldn’t help scowling at him. He said, “I’ll be by at four-thirty with the SUV.”

Like I didn’t already know that. Jerk.

Henry had scrunched himself down, making sure his back was to the door, to stare at the painting of a dolphin.

John glanced down the hall. “Here come your parents. Matt, I think you need to move. You’re blocking the door.”

Matthew twitched. “Oh, so I am. Here.” He stepped backward until there was space to get out.

I suspected Matthew was too close, but maybe Henry could handle it. “Come on, Henry, time to go.”

Henry got as far as the door, then scrunched up against the door frame. He wouldn’t look at Matthew.

John said, “I think Henry is spooked about yesterday. Take two steps back, Matt.”

Matthew folded his arms across his chest, but did take two steps backward.

I could see through the propped-open door that Dad and Mom had stopped to speak to Mr. Rickmand. I sensed Matthew was gathering up the nerve to make small talk with me while we waited for my parents.

Well, I wanted none of it. “Henry, let’s go out the back.”

“Wait,” Matthew said.

“I’m taking a short cut to the car.” I shoved open the back entrance so Henry could rush through. “This way is much quieter for Henry.”

“That’s a good idea,” John said. He clapped Matthew on the arm. “How about we see how Mom is doing?”

Matthew called out, “I’ll be there at four-thirty.”

As the steel door closed, I heard John saying to Matthew, “You know, if you were le—”

The door clunked shut.

************** End of Part One. 15. *****************

Cheers, L.M.