Friday, June 8, 2018

The Buzz About Author Lyra Shanti's "The Artist"



Free today, people! Sexy, romantic, poetic insanity for FREE! Go get it on Amazon!





Comments



Jim Davis Got it... Am I old enough to read this?



Lyra Shanti Jim, it has its naughty bits, to be sure, but at the heart, it's about art and madness, and love. I think you'll probably squeak by the age requirement. https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/f57/1/16/1f609.png:)



Jim Davis Lyra Well, okay. If you say so. But, I do have an impressionable mind. LOL



Lyra Shanti Thanks for sharing, Linda! Here is the link for anyone who is interested:






AMAZON.CO





Award-winning artist and author, blogger, editor, and interior designer Linda Lee Greene is on social media at the following:
Email: lindaleegreene.author.artist@gmail.com
Twitter: @LLGreeneAuthor

Also look for her on LinkedIn and Google+

Thursday, May 31, 2018

ROOSTER TALE By Linda Lee Greene


“ROOSTER TALE is a fun and easy book to read. It’s humorous and has great illustrations. The lovable animals and children in the story work together to solve a problem on the farm where they live. It ‘s a heartwarming and inspiring story that shows children how important it is to cool down after they get mad because otherwise they might do something they will be sorry for later. Best-selling author Linda Lee Greene has delivered again with a book that I think deserves a five star rating. I recommend it highly.” A Reader …the book is available on Amazon.com and at http://goo.gl/vNq32g.

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Embryos of Peace by Linda Lee Greene

The following is a share of an essay I wrote for the Grove City (Ohio) Arts Council's Newsletter and Blog, a most appropriate article for this Memorial Day holiday week:


In my homespun family, the term ‘Memorial Day’ never quite caught on. The name assigned to it originally was ‘Decoration Day’, and is, to us and many others, the title most appropriate. Since its inception on the heels of the Civil War, this remembrance of our military personnel who lost their lives serving our country has been recognized and practiced broadly, although informally. This is because it wasn’t until 1971 that it was finally designated as an official national holiday to be observed on the last Sunday in May under the moniker of ‘Memorial Day’. World War II Medal of Honor recipient and U.S. Senator of Hawaii Daniel Inouye worked for many of his 49 years career in the senate to restore the original May 30th date of the holiday. It was his contention that the official date obscures the sacred meaning of the holiday, competing as it does with the unofficial first weekend of summer when pent-up children and adults alike storm the unlocked gates of closed-for-the-season swimming pools and other open-air recreations in lieu of spending the day at cemeteries.

            By virtue of its nature, probably the major repository of a country’s heroes is its military, heroes in one way or another in its largest sense. A hero is defined as a person who can solve a problem or problems other people cannot solve. This left-brain, bare-bones, and pragmatic one-liner seems patently rationalistic to me, barren the full-bodied status a hero has earned and deserves. It has been suggested that an emotional and/or spiritual need for heroes is inborn in human beings. These necessary beings to whom we look up not only solve the seemingly unsolvable for us, but also provide us with inspiration to keep on keeping on during trying times, to demolish barriers in our journey to greater heights, and to overcome our antipathy toward others. In these ways, heroes satisfy a basic requirement found in the nature of human beings.
   
            When I look upon the gravestone of a military veteran, rather than perceiving it as a marker of something lifeless, I see within it a hero embodied as an embryo of peace. How can anyone walk among the more than 400,000 headstones of our military veterans at Arlington National Cemetery and fail to hear Heaven’s call for Peace on Earth and Goodwill Toward all of Humankind? Oh yes, to me each one of those pristine rectangles of white stone enshrines an embryo of peace.


https://grovecityartscouncil.wordpress.com/2018/05/26/embryos-of-peace/ 

Award-winning artist and author, blogger, editor, and interior designer Linda Lee Greene is on social media at the following:
Email: lindaleegreene.author.artist@gmail.com
Twitter: @LLGreeneAuthor

Also look for her on LinkedIn and Google+

Her books are available on Amazon and other booksellers.



Saturday, May 19, 2018

Author Susan Kay Box Brunner Releases New Novel


I am so excited to feature an excerpt of author Susan Kay Box Brunner's latest novel: Her Kind of Businessman

Luke Benson stepped from the Jeep and noticed the weary, tired-structure of the run-down- white- faded, farmhouse and wondered, What did I get myself in for?  This surely was not the image the internet gave.  But he, in a ‘Vineyard Vines’ navy blue-suit, adjusted his shoulders, lifted his suitcase, duffle bag, his computer, and walked toward the worn steps.  He silently thought and warned himself, She’s off limits.  No, I’ve been there, done that, and I’m very satisfied in being a bachelor.  He rubbed his chin, Too bad!  What fun a simmering summer fling could have been.

Joann gasped, “Oh my”.  Her green eyes widened as she eyed the tall broad-shouldered-drop-dead-gorgeous man with wavy black hair.  His steps were one of assurance and determination. Be still my heart.  But then she remembered a time with Mitchell, when he said, “Joann you’re a wonderful sweet woman and I wish I could convince myself to marry you tomorrow, but Professor Whitfield called from California and left a voice message and he wants me to join his team’. You know that’s been my life’s dream.”  Joann decided, No way no how would she ever think about getting involved with Mr. Luke Benson.  Besides he would be leaving soon moving on to bigger and better sights. 

In the quiet of the night three victims, Luke Benson, Joann Steeples, and Charles Berkley Franklin faced life in different ways, dishonesty of a woman, distrust from a man, and distorted happenings in life from people, employment, and love.  They each reached a place in life and questioned, could there possibly be a second chance in life?

or
www.booksbysusan.com



Award-winning artist and author, blogger, editor, and interior designer Linda Lee Greene is on social media at the following:


Email: lindaleegreene.author.artist@gmail.com



Twitter: @LLGreeneAuthor




Also look for her on LinkedIn and Google+

Sunday, April 22, 2018

Nellie Compton, a Princess Diana Lookalike



It was a shining Saturday morning in 1953, and my parents, my little brother, and I arrived at my mother’s parent’s farm in Peebles, Ohio from our home in Columbus, Ohio, as we did nearly every Saturday morning. I jumped out of our car and went in search of my beloved seventeen-year-old Uncle Dean, my mother’s youngest sibling. I thought it odd that he hadn’t run out to greet us as soon as we pulled up to the yard of the farmhouse, but was at that moment still unaware of any cause for alarm. I combed the rooms of the farmhouse, the grounds, the barn, and other farm buildings, but strangely, he was nowhere to be found. My heart flattened like a leaking balloon. “He went to see a friend, but he’ll be back in a little while,” my grandmother told me. Well, I’ll just wait for him then, I said to myself as I plopped down on the steps to the front porch, my heart prepared to leap into somersaults of gladness as soon as I saw the plume of dust kicked up by his car on the long gravel road leading to the farm. “He went to get Nellie,” I heard my grandmother say to my mother through the open window just over my left shoulder. Who’s Nellie, and why is he bringing her here? I wondered. “He sure likes that girl. He told me they want to get married,” my grandmother added. Until that moment, I didn’t know what a broken heart was, much less how a broken heart feels, how it makes a shining day turn dark, and all the cluster of days ahead unbearable. I didn’t know that those Mondays through Fridays when we were apart that he wasn’t as true to me as I was to him. I didn’t know he had another life in which I wasn’t its center. I didn’t like this whole idea one little bit, because he belonged to me, exclusively; everyone knew he was mine, and had been since the day I was born. I was prepared to do battle with this Nellie-person, to prove to her so definitively that he belonged to me that she would run away and never come back. I deserted my sentry post on the front steps and dragged my heavy heart into the house and threw myself on the couch, face down. I waited—and waited, my spirit a fusion of tears and fight. 

“Tick-tock; tick-tock,” the clock on the mantle sounded, each sequence conducting a sad song in my mind. But presently, I raised my reluctant face to seventeen year old Nellie Compton as she walked through the door, and something primal shifted inside me. Like lead turning into gold, my tears, my anger transformed to another element I didn’t know existed, a part of me full of enigma, and yes, new promise. Barefoot, scraped knees, torn shorts, and tangled mop of flaxen hair, I was just a little kid, a tomboy, a precocious package of burning energy without an inkling that life would be any different than it had been until then. I didn’t know I was in search of a model for my own budding femininity. She walked through that door, and in an instant, I was aware of soft smooth skin, lustrous hair, fetching clothes, and lipstick. She was a farm-girl, but nevertheless, pulled together in a way no girl from her remote existence in Adams County, Ohio, USA ought to be. Long legs up to her armpits, a halo of ash-blond hair, her blouse tied stylishly in a knot beneath her breasts, she gave new meaning to a pair of rolled-up-at-the cuffs blue jeans. All at once I loved her, and not because of her special place in my Uncle Dean’s heart, but because of the special place she had nestled into in mine.


At odds with her beautiful physicality, she was wholly unaware of the stunning figure she cut. Her innocence was easy to recognize in her spectacular but bashful blue eyes, in a soul sweet but cowering, uncomfortable, wary of people. She seemed ever on the hunt for a way out of a terrifying place, to be in conflict with a demon inside herself. With the passing years, like a shade pulling down on a window, we watched sadly as the gemstone sparkle of her eyes faded more and more behind her lowered eyelids and her glorious head tipped away from us on its axis. I think that because she sensed I was so star-struck by her, and similar to her in some ways, she allowed me to get close to her as few others ever did. The first time I saw Princess Diana of Great Britain, she reminded me of a young Nellie Compton—the same fashion sense, the glossy blond tresses, the uncertain blue eyes, the lowered frightened chin.

During a marriage of nearly four decades, Nellie and Dean raised their daughter Deana, worked hard on their own farm, and Nellie fought the demon inside herself valiantly. But it won eventually. Like her mother, her mother’s mother, several of her mother’s siblings, and one of her own siblings, as well as a number of other members of her mother’s family reaching back to earlier generations, Nellie became a victim of Alzheimer’s Disease. We couldn’t help but wonder if some mean tentacle of it had been doing its dirty work on her since her teen years, therefore accounting for the quirk in her personality. We lost Nellie to the illness 46 years after that day she became a standard for me of lovely femininity. I will remember her that way, always. –Linda Lee Greene, Columbus, OH 4/22/2018

Award-winning artist and author, blogger, editor, and interior designer Linda Lee Greene is on social media at the following:

            Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/lindaleegreene

Email: lindaleegreene.author.artist@gmail.com



Twitter: @LLGreeneAuthor


            Also look for her at LinkedIn and Google+

Tuesday, April 10, 2018

Home Should Be Safe: Hope and Help for Domestic Violence Victims




Author Mina R. Raulston, provides in this her debut book her personal testimony of her experiences with domestic violence in a fourteen-year long abusive marriage, and her journey to healing, a deliverance she credits to God’s intervention upon her life. Included in the book is factual information about the realities of domestic violence, the help victims need to extricate and rehabilitate themselves, and ways to find that help. An appendix of available professional resources is incorporated in the book.
Mina tells me that countless authors will tell you they have been writing since they were children, ever since they could hold a pencil. They will tell you they have been telling stories, or putting out newspapers their whole lives, always seeking an audience to entertain. Not so for Mina Raulston. Mina says she has always been good with reading and could write a good term paper or book report in school, but she never considered herself creative. She didn’t begin writing until after she experienced a traumatic divorce caused by domestic violence. Here is Mina’s story in her own words:

Mina R. Raulston – Author

 “In 1989 I went against everything I believed in and divorced my husband of 14 years when his abuse escalated to throwing steak knives at me. I was about to start the old routine of keeping the children quiet and walking on eggshells around my then-husband and the father of my children until the stress and violence passed, again. While staying up late that night to try to unwind from the violent exchange, I was reading a magazine article about domestic violence. I thought to myself, “Do you have a video camera in my living room? Because that is what I am living.” Instead of repeating the cycle as I had many times, the next morning I took my children to caregivers and then went to Legal Aid where I filed for divorce.

After spending four years as a post-traumatic mess, I attended a ladies retreat with my church. During that retreat I received spiritual healing and deliverance from God. You see, I am a Pentecostal and we strongly believe that God still heals and delivers people physically, mentally, and emotionally. Our group of ladies gathered in a meeting room to hear a message from our speaker. After she finished we all prayed, using a small wrapped package we were provided with as a symbol of all the pain and hurt that we were then to give to God. In that prayer we also asked God to heal and deliver us from those things we gave to him. That small meeting room became our altar of prayer. I received my healing and deliverance that night. After the prayer I felt as if an anvil had been lifted from my heart and shoulders. 

I used to spend my long daily commute talking to God. Over the next few months I spent time asking God to show me the healing He did in me so I could help someone else. God gave me visions of the healing and deliverance he did in me. Now, whenever I read in the Bible where God gave someone a vision it wasn’t just a gift, it was an assignment. I share the basic details of those visions in my first book, Home Should Be Safe: Hope and Help for Domestic Violence. I will go into more detail in my upcoming book, Roadmap to Healing.

The experience of being healed and delivered, then seeing spiritual visions, was an overwhelming and personal encounter with God. I began journaling to work out my thoughts and feelings. I also began studying the women of the Bible to learn what God expected of me as a Christian woman. You see, I wasn’t raised by Christian parents, and now as a divorced woman, I didn’t fit anyone’s concept of what a Christian woman should be. Divorce was still uncommon in the church at that time. 

As I was studying, the Holy Spirit prompted me to outline and organize what I was learning. “Why do that?” I prayed. “No one is going to read my journal. “Just do what I ask,” the Holy Spirit patiently prompted me. I obeyed and a Bible study formed which became a class I taught at my church. Later I wrote the church newsletter, worked as a volunteer reporter with a local Christian newspaper, and published a couple of articles in my denomination’s magazine, The Evangel.

In my daughter’s senior year in high school I found myself suddenly unemployed. I decided to try to pick up some freelance writing assignments while I was seeking a full time job. I sent out my resumé and published clips to several local newspapers. I received a call from one of them and was shocked when the editor asked me, “So, Ms. Raulston, you’re seeking a job as a full-time reporter?” It took me about a heartbeat to overcome the shock before I answered, “Yes sir, I am.” We met in his office the next day and I began my job as an Education Reporter. That was August 2001. I had been on the job for less than a month when 9/11 happened. I wrote many articles about people who experienced that tragedy firsthand, in addition to my education articles and general news articles. It was a great learning experience. Over the next few years I published articles in several newspapers, magazines, and web sites.

I also wrote many articles on the subject of domestic violence, completed volunteer training as well as college classes related to family violence. After my daughter went to college I decided to write a “pamphlet” about domestic violence. I planned to present it at my denomination’s women’s ministries to help people in the church understand the facts surrounding family abuse. Over a period of nearly five years, combining my volunteer training, my college classes, and my personal research, I realized I had much more than a pamphlet. I had a book. When I moved to a larger city for a job, I joined a Christian writer’s group and a Toastmaster’s club to hone my writing and speaking skills.

I hired a friend who is a professional writer/editor to edit my book. I hired another friend who was an artist to create my cover art. I learned how to buy my own ISBN number for my book. An editor friend referred me to his graphic designer to combine my cover art, back copy, author photo and ISBN/Bar Code into my book cover. Then, another friend offered to format the interior of my book at no charge. With so many people willing to help me at either no charge or reduced fees, I knew God was in this project. My last step was to find a book packager, a company that simply prints and binds books. They are not publishers. I had become a publisher.

I’ve become a Jack of All Trades over the years, writing for churches, newspapers, magazines, websites, publishing my book, and even writing speeches. Now I work full-time as a technical writer. My goal is to write and publish more books to glorify God as I use my newfound gifts. We hear so many stereotypes of abused women who repeat the cycle, or who may get free but never find wholeness, or whose children repeat the cycle of violence. But, God is good and he has blessed me and my children with a whole new life I could never have imagined without his help and guidance. To God be the glory!”

You can find out more about Mina on her web site at www.minaraulston.com, or on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and her blog at minaraulston@wordpress.com. 



Award-winning artist and author, blogger, editor, and interior designer Linda Lee Greene is on social media at the following:


Email: lindaleegreene.author.artist@gmail.com



Twitter: @LLGreeneAuthor




Also look for her at LinkedIn and Google+

Monday, April 9, 2018

A Review of James Ernest Shaw's book titled 'An Italian Journey'


Rather than rock stars and movie stars, the objects of my adoration are public broadcasting’s Rick Steves and Joseph Rosendo and others of their ilk, people who chronicle their worldwide travels for listeners and viewers. Such public information shows are godsends to people like me who, due to restrictions on their health, are unable to travel to far-off places. One of the charms of these short travel documentaries is that they make of their hosts ‘temporary locals,’ to borrow a phrase from Steves, by having them hobnob with local people and indulge in cultural activities distinct not only to the major destinations, but also to cozy villages and other hidden-away corners of the world. This philosophy of becoming a ‘temporary local’ is the chief appeal of author James Ernest Shaw’s delightful book entitled An Italian Journey. Adding to its appeal is that it is a book of non-fiction that reads like an intriguing novel.

I didn’t make it to Italy before I developed a chronic illness that up to this point in my life limits me to domestic travels. Immersing myself for a time in Tuscany was one of my fondest dreams…and now I have realized that dream, although vicariously, through James Ernest Shaw and his adventures journaled in his brilliant An Italian Journey. Like a gladiator on two wheels, for seven glorious weeks in Tuscany he bicycled sizzling as well as foggy mountainous hairpins and held his ground against speeding trucks and leisurely foot-peddlers. He climbed trees older than the modern world and picked olives, built stone walls, sat at table and ate pasta and drank wine, talked politics and religion and farming with real people of the area, and through the experience was transformed. And I think he found the key to why Italy and Italians are special among all the people of the world.

Shaw had inspired me to find my own way to Italy, somehow, and more importantly, to begin anew a journey I began and abandoned many decades ago, and that is to become a Roman Catholic. Thank you, James Ernest Shaw. –Author and artist Linda Lee Greene 


 
Award-winning artist and author, blogger, editor, and interior designer Linda Lee Greene is on social media at the following:
          Email: lindaleegreene.author.artist@gmail.com
            Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/LindaLeeGreeneAuthor
          Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/LindaLeeGreeneAuthor
          Twitter: @LLGreeneAuthor
            Blog:  http://Ingoodcompanyohio.blogspot.com
          Also look for her at LinkedIn and Google+
    

Saturday, April 7, 2018

Review of Pamela Allegretto's 'Bridge of Sighs and Dreams'


Downsizing from a large four-bedroom home and moving to a small two-bedroom condominium in recent months has made it impossible for me to read at my usual speedy pace. But when my tortured back and squealing feet refused me during my “downsizing” project, I was able to spend much of my time-outs reading a few books, among them a marvelous World War II epic titled Bridge of Sighs and Dreams by author and artist Pamela Allegretto. The book was a perfect diversion, and has earned an honored place in my library of “World War II Books.”

Like Kristen Hannah’s acclaimed World War II novel The Nightingale, Allegretto’s novel explores the seldom-seen topic of the effects of war on women, the former on two sisters in German-occupied France, the latter on two sisters-in-law in war-torn Italy. If you haven’t read both of these fabulous books, you are missing out on big-time reading pleasures.

An artist whose fine art is collected worldwide, Allegretto’s every stroke of the keyboard that gave life to Bridge of Sighs and Dreams is rendered as masterfully as the brushstrokes that shape her popular canvasses.


Award-winning artist and author, blogger, editor, and interior designer Linda Lee Greene is on social media at the following:
Email: lindaleegreene.author.artist@gmail.com
Twitter: @LLGreeneAuthor

Also look for her at LinkedIn and Google+