Archive by Author | dellanioakes

When Tis Done – Part 2

When Tis Done coverThe teens are gathering in Jordan’s basement, waiting for Brian to arrive. Marrissa is already there, being her usual perky self. Jordan, on the other hand, isn’t.

“I’m a riot. It’s part of my charm.”

“Yeah, that’s how I always describe you,” Chase said as he came down the stairs behind her. “You’ll love Jordan, she’s a riot.”

Chase gave Marissa a chaste kiss on the cheek. She drew slightly away from him, not comfortable with the intimate display in front of Jordan. Face registering disappointment and disgust, he dropped on the faded couch next to Jordan.

“Chase Finley is a funny man,” Jordan replied. “I’ve always said that.”

He chuckled, tapping her lightly on the arm. “Where’s big Bri?”

“No clue. He said he’d be here half an hour ago, but hasn’t arrived yet. Not answering his phone, either.”

“You’re not worried?” Chase’s brow furrowed.

“He was watching Elise. I figure Miles and Maribelle aren’t home yet. He turns off his phone if she’s sleeping. He’ll get here.”

“Should we go looking?” Marissa hopped up, ready for action. “After everything that’s happened….”

“No worries, Mar. Brian and I have developed this…something. I know when he’s in danger or when he’s just late. It’s fine. If you see me hop up and start running, follow me.”

“Okay. If you’re sure. Chase and I don’t have that.”

Jordan nodded. She wasn’t surprised. The sense of one another hadn’t developed until they spent limitless time together, their relationship changing from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend. It hadn’t progressed to sex yet, but Jordan was determined to be eighteen before that happened. Brian didn’t like the idea, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. They were destined to be together, he’d have to live with it.

The stairs creaked and Brian trotted down the steps, ducking at the bottom. He’d shot up again, towering over them all at six foot four. Jordan had squeaked out another half inch during the spring and summer, topping out now as a remarkable five foot three and a half. Even Chase’s younger sister, Kate, was taller than she was, and she wasn’t even twelve.

“Hey, babe,” he said, flopping on the other side of the couch. He kissed her deeply, his fingers trying to creep under the edge of her crop top.

“Hey, yourself,” she replied, grabbing his fingers and squeezing hard.

“I need those,” Brian said. “Sorry! I’m sorry! Ow! What the hell, Jordan!”

“It’s bad enough you grope me, but in front of Chase and Marissa, that’s poor taste.”

“Sorry. The crop top is tempting.” His mouth lowered to hers again.

“Other people in the room!”Marissa’s voice rose in pitch. She blushed a furious shade of red. “Goodness, Brian! Really!”

“He does it just to eat at you,” Chase said. “And me. Thanks for that, Brian. I can barely get a kiss, let alone a near fondle.”

Marissa’s blush deepened, tears springing to her eyes. “Well, Chase Dearborn Finley, I’m sorry I’m such a disappointing girlfriend! If I had any choice in the matter, I’d leave you for someone else!”

“If either of us had a choice, we’d never have started dating at all!” Chase countered. “My God, Riss. We’re supposed to get married and have kids. But I can’t even get a kiss, I can’t imagine how you’ll freeze me out when I want sex!” He held up his hand. “Oh wait, I already do. And my dick got covered with ice crystals.” He turned to Brian and Jordan. “Literally ice! She nearly gave me frostbite!”

Marissa burst into tears and ran to the laundry room nearby. Jordan got up, glaring at Chase.

“Thanks for that. Now, I have to go be sympathetic and girlie. You’re an ass, Chase. No—you’re a dick.” She stalked angrily after Marissa.

“Dude, get a fucking grip,” Brian said. “I know it’s not easy….”

“At least Jordan lets you kiss her! I get a peck on the cheek from no less than six inches away. I love her like my life—because I have to. Why did I get stuck with the religious freak?”

“She’s probably wondering why she got stuck with the horny jock. Honestly, Chase, you can be such an insensitive goob. She has no control over how she was raised. Her dad lived in denial of his powers a long time, trying to pretend that all this didn’t exist.” He waved his arms, encompassing the house and them, but meant vastly more. “None of us chose this path. It was chosen for us the second we were conceived. It’s like some kind of cosmic crap shoot.”

“You’ve been spending time with Jackie.”

“Yeah, and it’s helped my perspective a lot. You should try it. Then maybe you wouldn’t make your girlfriend burst into tears and try to freeze your dick.”

“No one else understands this relationship, Brian. I’m a football player, I’m supposed to date cheerleaders, fucking their brains out. Instead, I’m dating the class prude.”

© 2017 Dellani Oakes 

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Character Interview with Flynn Chancellor from So Much It Hurts by Dellani

SoMuchItHurtsbyDellaniOakes500

What is your story?

My Story is told in So Much It Hurts

Who are you?

My name is Flynn Amos Chancellor. Remember it, you’ll be asking for an autograph one day.

Where do you live?

I live in an amazing, old hotel downtown. I grew up in the City, but this is a hell of a lot better part of town.

Are you the hero of your own story?

I don’t think of myself as particularly heroic.

What is your problem in the story?

I’m trying not to lose myself.

How do you see yourself?

I can paint you a picture. Seriously, I’m a man who’s very secure in his artistic abilities, but who lacks confidence in his relationships.

How do your friends see you?

Slightly arrogant, talented, a little flaky – hey, I’m an artist, comes with the territory. Cocky, self-assured, and able to take a licking and keep on ticking.

How does the author see you?

She sees a talented man who has some emotional baggage. A man who’s trying hard to do the best he can.

Do you think the author portrayed you accurately?

She did, it’s like she painted a picture of me with her words.

What are your achievements?

I’ve won a number of contests with my art and have now managed to land some really top drawer jobs. If I can nail them, I’ll make an indelible mark and a name for myself.

Do you talk about your achievements?

Not really. The folks who need to, know.

Do you have any special strengths?

I can paint a cityscape on a model’s back in less than five hours. I happen to be pretty damn good at body painting.

Do you have any special weaknesses?

I lack confidence in relationships. There’s a good reason for it, but doesn’t make it any easier to cope.

Do you have any skills?

I’m a kick ass painter.

Do you have money troubles?

I came up poor and I’ve worked hard all my life to make frayed ends meet. Things are better now. I’ve gotten some recognition, so the money will sort itself out.

What do you want?

I want happiness and success.

What do you need?

I need happiness and success.

Are you lucky?

Not everyone would think so. I had an abusive dad, but I survived his beatings. I grew up poor in the worst part of town, and I got out. I think that makes me awfully damn lucky.

Have you ever failed at anything?

How much time do you have?

Has anyone ever failed you?

My old man failed me and my mom. I’m not sorry he’s gone.

Do you keep your promises?

I try, but I’m shit with commitment. I try not to make them, because I know I’m going to break them.

Are you healthy?

I was pretty sick as a kid, between beatings and poor living conditions. But now, I’m insanely healthy.

What was your childhood like?

I’d rather not talk about it.

Do you like remembering your childhood?

Not at all. Well, except for the first day I saw Pappy Dominguez’ paintings in the City gallery. That was the best moment of my life.

Did anything newsworthy happen on the day you were born?

According to my old man, the gates of hell opened and spewed out hellspawn. But he was an alcoholic drug user, what does he know?

Did you get along with your parents?

Subject change.

Have you ever had an adventure?

I’m having one now, getting to know Pia and starting my new job.

Was there ever a defining moment of your life?

The day I saw Pappy Dominguez’ painting Santa Rosada Sitting. It touched my life in a visceral way that I can’t explain. I knew right then that I wanted to be an artist.

What is your most prized possession? Why?

My most prized possessions – my art supplies, particularly my brushes. Each one represents a meal I missed, a date I didn’t go on, and hundreds of small sacrifices I made in order to pay for them.

What is your favorite scent? Why?

I love the smell of oil paints and turpentine.

What is your favorite color? Why?

It color of an unpainted canvas, because it’s alive with possibilities.

What is your favorite food? Why?

Don’t really have one. I hate rutabagas, squash and beets. And walnuts make my mouth numb.

What is your favorite beverage? Why?

Coffee – because of the endless ways to prepare it.

What is your favorite music? Why?

Rock and Roll and Blues.

What is your favorite item of clothing? Why?

I’m a hat fanatic. I have all kinds. My favorite is this battered fedora that looks like Indiana Jones wore it when he was looking for the Holy Grail. It’s beat to shit and faded, but it’s great for keeping the sun out of my eyes when I paint outside.

Name five items in your pockets.

Keys, wallet, phone…. I travel light.

If you were at a store now, what ten items would be in your shopping cart?

I’m pathetic with food shopping. I’d probably just grab whatever caught my eye – and coffee.

If you were stranded on a desert island, who would you rather be stranded with, a man or a woman?

I’m not interested in spending that much time with another dude. A willing, flexible woman with low standards and high stamina.

So Much It Hurts is currently on sale for only .99 cents until November 8.

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When Tis Done – Part 1

When Tis Done coverWhen Tis Done is book 4 in the Miracle, Mississippi series. The teens are starting their senior years, each wondering what’s going to happen next. Will Deidrich return now that Opal’s been vanquished? Or will some other threat present itself?

“If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well It were done quickly” ~ Macbeth, Act I, scene vii

PROLOGUE

August 28, 2015

He woke in a cold sweat, panting. The shadows of the room whispered and moved around him, reaching but not touching. Shaking violently, he shivered. The walls shook in unison, the ceiling cracked, dust of plaster dropping on his twisted counterpane. He didn’t dare move until it passed, or the tremors got worse. When they stilled slightly, his hand crept to his cellphone that lay on the bedside table. Hardly shifting in the bed, he scrabbled at it, searching quickly for the number he needed. It rang a few times before a bleary voice answered.

“It’s me,” he muttered. “It won’t stop! What do I do?”

The voice on the other end spoke calmly, almost hypnotically.

“Yes. I should be there by tomorrow night.” He paused, near panic rising inside him. “I can’t get there sooner. Believe me, if I could I would be already. I can’t take a train and I don’t dare fly—not like this! Driving is hard enough!” Clutching the phone, a whimper escaped him. “Yes. I’d like that. Thank you.”

He relaxed somewhat as the voice continued. Soon, his breathing regulated and he was able to stop shaking. “I’m better now, thank you. I’ll see you all soon.”

Rising, he went to the tiny bathroom off the somewhat shabby motel room. The fluorescent light flickered crazily, making his eyes hurt. Correction, making them hurt more. He already had a migraine to end all, that hadn’t quit for over a week. Sometimes, it was worse than others. He was sucking down migraine strength Tylenol and coffee by the pot, just to keep it at bay. Sleeping didn’t help, he just woke with the same headache. Dark circles ringed his eyes and he felt his stomach lurch.

Dry heaving over the toilet was non-productive and disgusting. He hated the taste of bile in his mouth, but he’d already vomited twice, losing his lunch and his dinner. Starting the shower, he stood in the stinging hot spray until his skin turned lobster red. The water turned to ice crystals, pounding in his unprotected flesh. Roaring with frustration, he shut it off, gasping against the sudden chill in his room.

He dried off and dressed, leaving a tip and the key card on the dresser. It was dark when he left the parking lot, but the faintest light graced the far eastern horizon. He hesitated to use the GPS, because it was even more erratic than usual—not that the GPS has ever really worked for him before, but now it couldn’t even seem to remember which way was north. That wasn’t too hard for him. North was behind him, far away from everything he’d considered important. Until three days ago, when the urge to drive to Mississippi became too compelling to bear, he’d considered North home. Now, still eleven hours away, he took to the road once more, traveling by the back ways so that whatever illness plagued him, wouldn’t harm anyone else. He’d found out the hard way, going through Seattle, that his peculiar problem could be devastating in heavy traffic. He’d nearly caused a major pile up when a semi cut him off and an SUV nearly rear ended him. It was then that he got of the interstate and took the back roads. It made his trip nearly twice as long, but it was safer—for him—for everyone.

He started music playing, some hard driving blues-rock to keep his mind off the trip and what lay ahead. He turned it up, listening to Jimmy Barnes screech as Joe Bonamassa wailed on the guitar. It set his toes tapping. He set his cruise, cranked it up more, and drove with a singularity of purpose he’d never experienced before. The compulsion grew stronger with every mile he covered. He wanted to go faster, but he was already doing seventy in a fifty-five zone. It was a narrow, dark road in the middle of nowhere.

All the more reason to go faster, a voice inside him said. Feel the road. Be free.

His hands moved automatically, taking off the cruise control. His right foot pressed harder and the powerful engine roared with renewed life. He became one with the night, with the dark. The sunrise to his left went largely ignored as he flew down the road, heading toward his destiny.

* * *

“Last Friday of summer,” Jordan groaned.

“Senior year starting,” Marissa giggled, clapping her hands. “Home Coming, Prom, Senior President elections!”

“I thought we did those last year,” Jordan complained. “Please tell me we don’t have to do that again!”

“Polly Chambers moved, sugar. Her mama got scared off by the recent unpleasantness.”

Jordan rolled her eyes when Marissa made air quotes by her head.

“I take that you mean the magical tornado at the school, not the Civil War,” Jordan teased. Many of the old ladies in town still referred to the War Between the States as the recent unpleasantness, which she found amusing. A hundred and thirty years wasn’t exactly recent.

“Of course, silly!” Giggling, Marissa swatted at Jordan’s feet, which perched on the edge of the battered coffee table in the Barrett’s basement. “Sometimes, Jordan, you are just too funny!”

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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What’s Next

the man who wasnt there

The Man Who Wasn’t There is over. The time has come once more, to start sharing another book. I have a third book in the Miracle, Mississippi series, called When Tis Done. It isn’t as polished as the first two, but I’d like to share it anyway.

Brian and the others are just about to start their senior years. Most students would be worrying about what clothing to wear the first day or school, or how they’re going to get their crush to notice them. Brian, Jordan and the others have more important matters on their minds. They’ve been practicing their skills, determined not to be taken by surprise anymore.

Their parents have been teaching Chase’s aunt, Cynthia, to take his father’s place. The problem is, there’s no one around to take his mother’s…. Or is there?

Please note that this book is a tad more mature than the first two. I’ll be going through and toning it down, so I won’t offend anyone. Be watching this space Wednesday, October 18 at 8:00 AM Eastern time, when I start sharing When Tis Done – Miracle, Mississippi Book 4.

Character Interview with Yancy Fredrick from So Much It Hurts by Dellani

SoMuchItHurtsbyDellaniOakes500What is your story?

My Story is told in So Much It Hurts

Who are you?

My name is Yancy Fredrick.

Where do you live?

I live in a former grand hotel in the heart of the City.

Are you the hero of your own story?

Define hero. I don’t think I’m particularly heroic.

What is your problem in the story?

I’m in love with my best friend’s girlfriend, Pia.

How do you see yourself?

I’m a man who’s feeling somewhat lost. Some days, I wonder if I’ll ever find my way again.

How do your friends see you?

They see me as capable, decisive, responsible and confident. They’re not wrong. I’m all that, and a lot more – as well as a lot less.

How does the author see you?

She thinks I’ve got a killer smile that can seduce a woman with its power…. She’s not wrong.

Do you think the author portrayed you accurately?

Yes, she did. It’s like she was inside my head.

Do you have a goal?

My goal hasn’t changed since I was twelve. I want my doctorate in business. Additionally, I want to start an art school with Flynn, maybe build on that to set up a program to help emotional healing through art.

What do you want?

I want to finish my degree and start up the art school with Flynn.

What do you need?

I need to find love.

What do you believe?

I believe in myself. In Flynn. In our dream to start an art school.

What makes you happy?

My friends, my work — Pia.

What are you afraid of?

Losing everything I’ve built.

Are you lucky?

I’m one of those fortunate individuals who’s had an easy life. My family is great, my folks are wonderful. I have four younger sisters, and we’re all happy and doing what we love. I’d consider that to be lucky.

Have you ever failed at anything?

I never was any good at water skiing, other than that, no. Like I said, lucky.

Do you keep your promises?

I do my best not to promise, because I don’t want to break my word. That said, if I do promise, I make it happen.

Are you healthy?

I love to run, play rugby, climb steps for cardio, I don’t eat as well as I should…. I haven’t had a serious illness since I had chicken pox at six. I’m allergic to birds, but otherwise, I’m disgustingly healthy.

What was your childhood like?

My childhood was great. Dad was gone a lot, and we moved a good bit, until he left the military. We settled in the suburbs outside the City when I was ten. It was a great neighborhood, good school, lots of friends.

Do you like remembering your childhood?

You know those old sitcoms like Leave it to Beaver, or Dick Van Dyke Show? That was me and my family.

Did anything newsworthy happen on the day you were born?

Yes. I was born.

Did you get along with your parents?

They and my sisters are my best friends – except for Flynn – and Pia.

What in your past would you like to forget?

If I’d like to forget it, what makes you think I want to talk about it?

Was there a major turning point in your life?

One day, Flynn came in and said, “Get dressed. We’ve got a new neighbor and we’re taking her to dinner.”

Do you have any hobbies?

I play rugby with a local team. I have taken up golf, because a lot of business can be done on the golf course. I don’t like it much, it’s boring. If I examine it scientifically; from a physics and math perspective, it’s okay.

What is your favorite color? Why?

I don’t really have one, but if anyone insists on an answer, I say blue.

What is your favorite food? Why?

Pia made this great puttanesca sauce one night. It was the greatest thing I’ve ever tasted.

What is your favorite beverage? Why?

Hard cider. Because it’s great.

What is your favorite music? Why?

I’ll listen to just about anything, but I love the old torch songs and blues. I also love Big Band stuff.

What is your favorite item of clothing? Why?

I have this pair of pants that’s the absolute perfect fit. Shows off my ass and thighs to perfection. I wear them when I’m out at a bar, because they attract women. Yes, I am that calculating.

Name five items in your pockets.

I don’t carry much: wallet, keys, phone and I’m good to go.

What are the last three books you read?

Right now, I’m pretty focused on school. When I’m not reading scholarly crap, I like a good mystery or a political thriller.

If you were at a store now, what ten items would be in your shopping cart?

Coffee, sugar, creamer, hard cider, bagels, cream cheese…. Hell, I need more than 10 items.

If you were stranded on a desert island, who would you rather be stranded with, a man or a woman?

I have no interest in sharing space with another man. We burp, fart and scratch rude places. If I’ve got to be somewhere it’s hot and sunny, I’ll take a sultry woman with no inhibitions and a good tan.

So Much It Hurts is currently on sale for only .99 cents until November 8.

Pre-order your copy now!

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A Thank You from Dellani

The Kahlea frontI want to thank all of you who have been following my Miracle, Mississippi books. I’ve gotten a great response! As a token of my appreciation, I wanted to share an excerpt from my upcoming sci-fi book, The Kahlea. This is Book 4 in my sci-fi series.

The Shakazhan Force has grown and is stronger, but they are still in need of help. Timokuan warriors from all over the galaxy have responded to the Maker’s call, but there still aren’t enough of them to fight off the Kahlea. Wil must turn his attention inside the planet, calling upon the residents of the artificial environments deep within the labyrinthine passages below. To this end, he calls upon experts in caving, linguistics and science to explore for him.

Kaz (Kazinski) is their unwilling caving expert. Claustrophobic in the extreme, he forced himself to explore underground, taking every specialty course the Galactic Marines offered. Even more terrified afterward, he reluctantly agreed to take the job. Now, he’s beginning to enjoy it.

Other members of the team are linguist, Hal Membray, as well as Ray and Benni Schmidt. Joining them is a woman who has traveled the interior for almost ten years. A native of the planet, she was separated from her people as a teenager. Now, Barengaria is working with them to help them find support.

Unfortunately, they can’t progress until they pass through a maze. Kaz is in the slow process of disentangling the ever changing series of tunnels.

Deep Within Shakazhan

Underground, Ray’s team was unaware of reinforcements arriving. They’d begun the slow, mind wearying process of threading the maze. Using a systematic, scientific approach, they’d tried to eliminate one tunnel or another only to have them change directions and shift on a daily, if not hourly basis. Each time they thought one was fully mapped, new entrances opened, intersected with old ones previously marked. Horribly frustrated, they sat around a small camp fire to discuss it.

“What a hell of a day!” Ray rubbed furiously at his short hair.

All of them were equally frustrated, but it was he who had the ultimate annoyance and scare. He’d been scouting one of the tunnels, only to have it shift with him inside. The way forward was blocked with a portion of another tunnel which was already marked. Behind him the tunnel closed as well, trapping him in a tiny cell of stone. He waited, praying all the while the walls would shift again and free him. It had taken three hours to get out again.

Ray had used the time to his advantage by running scans continuously and saving them to the nearly limitless storage of the Kindred scanner. He was looking for a pattern to the movement and so far it seemed hopelessly random.

“We’re missing something,” Kaz said for the fourth or fifth time in as many minutes.

“Obviously, Gunnery Sergeant, but what?” Ray snapped. Taking himself in firm control, he continued in a much more level tone. “I sat in that hole for three hours, Kaz. Excuse me if I’m not in the mood for your babble right now.”

Kaz waved it away as unimportant. “I’m just trying to be systematic, sir. I tend to think out loud. I’ve been going over these scans we’ve taken. I started with day one until now. I even put a remote device in the tunnels on an automated bot so it can travel around independently and gather information. What I’m seeing is fantastic!” Eyes glittering, he looked around at the others who eyed him with grim expectancy. All their faces held the same question, Well?

Clearing his skinny throat, Kaz swallowed, the lump of his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “‘K, mind you I’m not one for spacial mathematics or anything. Kinda failed that in school,” he blushed deeply, his face rivaling his hair for intensity. “There is a pattern, of sorts, emerging. On a crazy whim, I tapped into Sentience’s memory banks and down loaded some specs about the galaxy this planet was supposed to be the center of. Did you know there were originally twelve planets? This was the fifth one from the sun, optimal distance as it happened. Seven moons surrounded it, apparently artificial, stars all over creation, constellations of amazing configurations!”

“Gunny,” Ray interjected, “get to the point.”

“Yes, sir, sorry. Astronomy is a hobby of mine. So I fed all this into the Kindred device, color coded each of the tunnel openings, and made a Tri D schematic and voila!”

A punch of a button produced a Tri D projection. Twelve tunnel entrances all in a circle with a thirteenth hole in black.

“That’s the outside entrance, which remains static” Kaz pointed to the black circle. “There are twelve tunnels, one for each planet. Starting with the black one, running clockwise, that puts the tunnel for Shakazhan here.” He pointed to a bright green circle. “I also realized that it could run counter-clockwise, putting it here.” He pointed to a vivid blue one. “Little more playing, I thought, what if this is some kind of code key, a way to protect whatever’s behind there from interlopers like us. Maybe it’s not that easy. So I did a simple little math problem. I numbered the tunnels from one to twelve, going clockwise, then added the two together. Split the difference and, of course, ended up with six point five.” He held up a hand to still comment.

“Obviously there is no six point five tunnel, however, add the two numbers together and you get eleven,” he pointed to the pulsing purple tunnel.

“So your supposition based on elementary mathematics, is that tunnel eleven is the one we want?” Ray sounded annoyed.

Kaz shrugged. “It’s an uneducated guess, sir. It could just as easily be two. Or they could’ve done something really sophisticated which would take years to figure out, if at all. But the races here on the surface were ultra sophisticated, high tech and extremely intelligent. I saw a genius, level twenty-seven programmer stumped by a simple math error on line four hundred seventy-two. Instead of two plus two equals four, he’d inadvertently coded it to say, two plus two equals five. It took three lesser programmers to catch the error and convince him he was wrong.”

“You’re saying then that whoever set this here used a simple code to confuse them?” Hal chuckled. “It’s so stupidly simplistic, he might just be right!”

“We’ve been down that tunnel before, why hasn’t it opened up for us?” Benni asked.

“Could be any number of factors, ma’am. Time, alignment of planets, configuration of constellations, anything. It could be completely random.”

Ray made a face. He didn’t like how many times random was cropping up lately.

“What do you suggest then, Kaz?” Barengaria had been silent during this entire conversation. Her Galactix was getting very good. It was in that language she spoke now. “We think we’ve the right tunnel, now what?”

“Now we wait for a pattern to evolve. We set up more bots, watch them and see what happens.”

“Or,” Ray rose suddenly. “We take the direct approach. Pack it up, people, we’re going in.”

Benni started to protest, but her husband looked at her with a blank, stony expression on his face. She knew that look, it said, Don’t argue with me. Snapping her lips shut on her comments, she merely nodded and started to break camp, the others joined her.

“First Lieutenant?”

Ray turned slowly and looked down at Barengaria.

“Do you think it’s wise, all of us going?”

He smiled gently. “Barengaria, if some of us got through and some of us didn’t, we’d have a deuce of a time getting back together. Suppose the conditions are right for only a short space and don’t occur again for a long time. Then what would we do?”

She nodded quietly. “I see your point, sir.” Her smile was soft and gentle in understanding. She gathered her few possessions, whistled to Ayonyo and declared herself ready.

When they’d all assembled, Kaz led them into the mouth of the tunnel and they waited. Tunnel number eleven looked perfectly innocent and completely normal, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but then again looks were always deceiving around here.

“Just when you thought you’ve it figured out,” Ray muttered, “you get a jackhammer in the ribs.” Shaking his head, he led the tightly grouped team into the mouth of the tunnel, half expecting it to close up on him again. It took every ounce of his courage to keep walking, but he insisted they stay close together.

“If the walls move as we anticipate, I don’t want anyone cut off from the rest of the team.”

Nods of assent were all that he got and he didn’t need anything else. All these people were professionals. They walked slowly at first, warily taking each step. No one wanted to get too far ahead of the others, neither did they want to get left behind.

Hal could see Kaz was getting impatient. He wanted so much to be right but was prepared to be wrong. So many variables were here that there was no way to be certain they’d caught the correct one, all they had to go on was a guess. Somehow Hal thought Kaz was correct, but he said nothing, prepared to offer congratulations or support as necessary.

“It’s shifting,” Barengaria warned, taking a tight grip on Ayonyo’s jess, stroking his feathers ostensibly to calm him. Slipping into the mundane eased her fears as well.

The party moved close together, hoping the space around them wouldn’t contract or cut anyone off. They noticed gratefully that the walls moved around them, leaving plenty of space.

© 2017 Dellani Oakes

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Red River Radio Presents Dellani’s Tea Time with Alisha, Eden and Gary

Join us LIVE TODAY, October 9

from4-6 PM Eastern

It’s already October and, in some parts of the world, it’s getting chilly and the leaves are turning. Not here in Florida, but somewhere! We’re ready to sit by the fire and crack open a book. (Or, like here in Florida, it’s still so hot, we don’t want to go outside) In any case, we want to read. Today’s guests are ready to entertain us and entice us with their stories. So, hot or cold, inside or out, fall or spring, have a listen!

Our first guest is no stranger to the show. In fact, I think this is his fourth time visiting with us. Gary D. Henry is the author of In the Manor of Heather Black, Witchwoods, Groundsmen of Sleepy Hollow and many more. Welcome Back, Gary!

Our second guest was supposed to be on a few weeks ago, but wasn’t able to make it. We’re delighted to welcome Eden Walker, author of One Night in Venice coming soon from Tirgearr Publishing. Hello, Eden!

Our third guest is also new to the show and we’re so glad she could join us. Alisha Knaff author of School of Sight and the Four Windows Serialized stories of ghosts, fairies, revolutionaries, vampires, and magical artifacts in Seattle. Hiya, Alisha!

Be sure to tune in while we chat with these three amazing authors!

 

Join us LIVE TODAY, October 9

from 4-6 PM Eastern

Or catch the recording at your convenience