It's Excerpt Day, "Crucible"

It’s excerpt day from Sapphire Crucible.  The buildup is reaching critical mass!
Fendri produced a scroll from his vest pocket and opened it meticulously.  “Today you have your semi-annual meeting with the Supreme Commanders of the Imperial Forces.  They will be assembling in court shortly.”  “Good,” Mandrean barked.  “They had better produce sound reasons why their territories are in such disarray.”  “Remember to mind your temper this time,” Fendri noted.  “You rule through them.  It is their cooperation that makes the empire run effectively.  Scolding them will build no allegiance.  It could even lead to rebellion.”  “Why do you think I lose my temper?” Mandrean asked rhetorically.  “Because they are incompetent.  I will restrain nothing.  If their progress is not satisfactory, they will be lucky to escape with a scolding.  This is no side- street cart I am running.  This is the most powerful empire in the world.  To run it I need strong leaders.  If they do not produce the results I desire, the Empire will move forward over their bones.  I need results, not excuses.”  “They are closer to the people than you,” Fendri pointed out looking farther down the scroll.    “The people are timid like sheep.  They only need a strong shepherd to be kept in line.  They will follow their Emperor.  I have no doubt.”  Fendri smiled as he looked up from the parchment.  “Well there is some good news from Lord Necromancer.”  Mandrean showed immediate excitement and ran over to Fendri.  “What news?”  Fendri read from the scroll.  “Great Lord Mandrean, it is my great pleasure to inform you my agents have just apprehended Linvin Grithinshield and his entourage.  I have taken possession of the key and will deliver it to you in court today so all may see your prize.  To satisfy your curiosity I will have the Grithinshield party there to bear witness to you magnificent accomplishment.  Long live the Emperor.” Mandrean screamed with excitement.  “At last he has come through with the key.  I told you he would produce it for me.  You always doubt Necromancer’s sincerity.  Now you see he is loyal to his master.  He has no choice.” Fendri retained his composure during the jubilation.  “I am truly thankful he has produced what you sought.  That does not mean I trust him.” Mandrean clutched his friend’s shoulder and shook him in a brotherly manner.  “You worry like an old woman.  Necromancer cannot harm me and is totally obedient.  Sometimes I think I keep you around so you can do my worrying for me.”
“That may be, Manenvious, but I am also the only person who will always give you the straight truth.”  “From your point of view,” Mandrean corrected.  “That would be the only viewpoint I would have, Old Friend.  Perhaps I do worry for no reason.  If, however, I am right, you could be in danger.  Necromancer is not a person to be taken lightly.  The Supreme Commanders hold considerable power.  You must keep your wits about you.”  “Soon none of that will matter,” Mandrean said in great anticipation.  “After today, no one will dare challenge me.”  “Then I shall send for your wardrobe assistants to help you dress,” Fendri said as he resumed his rigid stance.  “You must look your best today.”  “See to it at once,” Mandrean ordered.  As Fendri turned to leave Mandrean added, “Remember to send the orders for the boy.”  Mandrean saw that Fendri stopped halfway down the stairs and turned to look at his master.  Mandrean looked indignant.  Fendri sighed and answered, “As you command, My Lord.”  With that, he left the room and went to summon the house staff.

It's Excerpt Day, "Quest"

It’s excerpt day from “Quest for the Red Sapphire.”  Ever wonder what puts the quest in motion?  Well here it is.
Anvar laughed and hugged his nephew tightly. “I’ve missed you, boy!” “And I you,” Linvin replied.  “Come; fill your cup and sit down.  Your trip has been quite long.” “Soon that distance will seem very short,” Anvar said as he sat down with his ale. “Your message made it sound like we were going on an extended trip.” “Not a trip,” Anvar said before drinking some ale, “a quest.” Linvin laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “Oh come on,” he chuckled, “a quest?  You sound so serious!” “This is serious!” Anvar fumed as he stomped the staff on the ground.  “Everything is at stake right now! Our lives and the lives of those around us hinge on the decisions we make this night.  You are ignorant of all that I speak.  In that way, I envy you.  I sometimes wish I did not know all that I do.”  Anvar’s soft eyes began to fill with tears. The comments had caught Linvin off guard.  The conversation had taken such a dramatic turn so quickly. He found himself dumbfounded and waiting for Anvar to continue. After wiping his eyes, Anvar produced a letter and handed it to Linvin.  “This is a letter from your mother. Read it slowly.”  Anvar stood and looked off as Linvin opened the letter.  He recognized the hand writing as belonging to his mother.
My Dearest Son,
Nothing would give me greater pleasure than seeing your smiling face just one more time.  Added to my list of regrets, is not being able to do just that. This will be my last contact with you.  I have taken ill and I will no longer have life when you read this.  No normal malady is to blame for my condition. My physician has informed me that someone, who went to great lengths to make my death look natural, has systematically poisoned me.  I do not know who did it or how, but I fear I do know why.  The subject is too delicate to trust to written words.  They may find their way to the wrong people.  I can only tell you to listen to your uncle and go with him.  He will be able to guide you and protect you as I thought I was doing.  I see now that he was right about many things and I have been a fool for many years. I never told you how proud I am of the man that you have become.  You are good and honorable.  Perhaps that is why the recent events have taken place.  Forgive me, my errors in judgment.  Though well intentioned, they have brought ruin on us all. Go with Anvar and do not look back.  Only by fulfilling your destiny can you make the deaths of your father and I something that served a purpose. Never has a mother known such joy, as having you for a son. Love Always, Mother

5 Star Review for "Sapphire"

I have another 5 star review for “Quest for the Red Sapphire.”  Here it is on Amazon.com.

 5.0 out of 5 stars Wonderful descriptions in this epic fantasy novel., June 26, 2014

By 

Fieldcene "Francene" (London. U.K.) - See all my reviews

This review is from: Quest for the Red Sapphire (Sapphire Chronicles) (Kindle Edition)

I read an ARCopy. This well-written novel handles the omniscient point of view with such a lightness of touch that I was hardly aware of reading. The wonderful descriptions in this epic fantasy novel drew me into a new world of elves, humans, goblins and dragons. I was left with the impression of watching a movie to follow different characters through scenes rather than see the events unfolding through the eyes of one character.

When the strong main character is pulled away from his leadership role to attend to family, he discovers weaknesses he needs to overcome. Especially so as he prepares to follow his father's wishes and seek the red sapphire. Along with his foolhardy relatives, he fails time and again to conquer his shortcomings, but never gives up. The quest is too important.

 

 

Review of "Still Rock Water"

I had the pleasure of reviewing “Still Rock Water” by Francene Stanley.  It was an excellent book and I thought I would share my review with you.
This is the story of Liliha.  As a housewife and mother of two teenaged girls on the sunny coast of Australia all seems well.  Then her erratic husband suddenly leaves her for another woman.  With the help of old friends she leaves the pain behind and relocates to the shores of England from where her family originated.  She carries with her a moonstone ring with a hidden history and the power to pull her into other people’s bodies for a short time.  Life is difficult for her as she has to leave her children in boarding school in Australia and can only see them on holidays.  Liliha struggles for money as a grown woman with few employable skills.  She loses the ring for a period and some of her self-confidence along with it.  She has opportunities arise for love but she does not want to be controlled or hurt again.  Throughout the book her strong beliefs and resiliency carry her through.  The author does an excellent job of emphasizing the deep feeling of betrayal Liliha feels in her divorce and shows how it tempers her judgment of all men and their intentions.  One catastrophe after another befalls her and still she carries on when so many would give up hope.  Even when happiness is right there to be had, she hesitates.  Her heart has been wounded and has a hard time accepting that something good could be on the horizon.  Liliha’s character has great depth and variation.  As a reader you find yourself rooting for her and feeling sorrow in her failures.  This is a book that draws you in.  Though I am fortunate not to know the pain of betrayal and divorce, the picture painted in the story is clear and distressing.  To overcome such upheaval and start a new life in a foreign land shows grit and determination.  If you like strong female characters with a dash of mysticism, this book is what you have been waiting for. 

Wishing and Writing

There is a song by Pearl Jam called “Wishlist.”  It is simply a list of things they wish could happen.  There is a line in there I found painted a beautiful picture.  It goes, “I wish I was the full moon shining off a Camaro’s hood.”  Now that would be a site.  So I started thinking about the things I would wish for.  There are the standard things like wealth, good health, curing illness and disease and let’s throw in world peace to round it out.  After the obligatory wishes were done I started to think of all the frivolous things I would want.  I wish I had studied harder in school and learned more.  I wish I had taken a different major that paid better after graduation.  I wish I had never dated some of the girls I dated.  I wish I had been smart enough to marry my wife before I did.  I wish I had told off certain people long ago.  I wish I had a friend with the same political beliefs as me.  I wish I weighed less and was able to work out.  I wish my friends had happier lives and didn’t suffer so much.  I wish the people who start wars were the ones who had to fight them.  I wish my children could appreciate the sacrifices my wife and I have made over the years for them.  I wish they sold Mackinac Island Fudge ice cream where I live.  I wish I could have the feeling of watching a fireworks show happen whenever I wanted.  I wish I was a stronger person.  Then again, I wish I wasn’t so stubborn.  The nice thing about wishing is that it can be about everything.  Doing is a whole different list and is usually much shorter.  The glory of writing is that you can write about anything you want.  You can make your wishes come true through print.  One can create characters with none or your shortcomings or perhaps new ones you do not possess.  They can also have strengths you don’t or be weak where you are strong.  They can strive for things you wish you could have or turn away from what you have chosen.  There are no limits when you are looking at a blank screen or piece of paper.  One thing I am blessed with is creativity.  I am not strutting by any means but there are many I can safely say are less creative than me.  There are many that are more creative.  That’s okay.  I’m fine with that.  Writing is the one area of my life where I feel I am most in control and right where I need to be.  So if I had just one frivolous wish (not the cure cancer type) I would wish that one of my stories would touch another human being and make a positive difference in their life.  You never know.  The great thing about wishes is that once in a while they do come true.

Nex Excerpt "Crucible"

As promised, today I bring you a new piece from “The Sapphire Crucible.”  It is so hard to show you parts without spoiling surprises.  Nevertheless, here is something to whet your appetite.  Today is your first glimpse of Lord Mandrean.
Mandrean sat back in the bed and sipped his tea.  It had been placed on his nightstand and escaped the fate of the remainder of his breakfast.  “I know I will have no peace until you are heard. Fendri, send everyone else away.  You may stay and tidy the room as we talk.” Fendri clicked his heals together and led the slaves and concubines down the stairs.  Once they exited through the great doors, he returned to the bedchambers.   Betrimpia shifted her weight to one side and stood with her arms crossed.  Fendri proceeded to gather the broken crockery and food his master cast to the floor and pile it on the tray. “Does he really need to be here?” she asked. “Fendri is the Master of my House.  I have no secrets from him.  If the situation is unsatisfactory, you may consider your audience ended.  If you choose to be difficult, I will gladly facilitate your removal with all due force.” Betrimpia softened her stance immediately and made her voice more melodic and supple.  “There is no need for that Manenvious,” she said.  “In truth I have been in a deep melancholy lately because you never seek my companionship.” Mandrean rose from the bed and spread his arms wide.  Fendri recognized the cue and adorned his body with a red velvet robe.  After tying the belt, he returned to his tasks. “You know I do not like being called that, Betrimpia,” Mandrean snapped. “It is your name, My Lord,” Betrimpia noted.  “There are no secrets here, as you said.”  “My name is no secret from Lord Fendri,” Mandrean said as he moved closer.  “You have never spoken the truth in your life.  Touching as your story is, I have a difficult time picturing you pining for me in your chamber.  So let us dispense with your tricks and come to your real reason for ruining my morning.” Betrimpia pursed her lips and said, “Very well.  I was your very first consort.  I have been with you since you became a man.  Yet for years I have languished in the bowels of your estate being ridiculed by the over-bosomed, energetic young maids you keep at your whim.  Every year you seek my companionship less and less. I have paid my dues and now desire what I have earned.” “What you have earned,” Mandrean interjected, “is a sound thrashing.” Betrimpia slammed her hand on the bed.  “I have earned the right to be your wife.  Marry me and make me the Empress I have spent nearly twenty years training to be.” “Marry you?” scoffed Mandrean.  “You have gone insane in your room.  I require no empress and even if I chose one, it would certainly not be a conniving plotter like you.” “Think of your son,” she pled. Mandrean harshly stuck his finger in her face.  Anger erupted from his lips.  “For the last time, I have no son.  You have an illegitimate child of origins I cannot say.” Betrimpia shoved his finger aside and stood face-to- face with him.  “You know there has never been another besides you.  No man could even gain access to the lower chambers.  Yet you still deny he is your son.  Look at him.  He carries your powerful frame and commanding disposition.  His aptitudes rival your own and he looks like the man I knew all those years ago.  Surely you must see he is of your blood.” Mandrean sighed and looked toward the window.  “I have given your son everything you have ever asked.  The finest tutors in the empire have taught him.  Philosophers, mathematicians, literary figures, warriors and the finest generals have educated him from birth.  He has grown into a fine young man.  I can do no more for him.” “You can be his father,” Betrimpia pled.  “Take me as your wife and acknowledge him as your son and heir.” Mandrean turned to her and smiled like a person who has solved a riddle.  “So that’s your game.  You just want me to marry you so your son can take the throne.  I wonder how long I would live after the nuptials.  How long would it take you to poison my wine, or choke me in my sleep?” “You know I could never do you harm Manenvious.  I love you.  I always have.  If you feel so insecure, keep your whores in the cellar.  I would suffer such indignity to make my Love happy.” “Oh the women will stay,” Mandrean agreed.  “You will no sooner be my wife than the sun will rise in the west.”  Betrimpia was visibly hurt by his words and formed tears in her eyes.  “If that is what you require from me, I will resign myself to being Concubine Number One.  I beg you, do not suffer your son to a life of humiliation.  Adopt him as your own and make him your heir.” “You know I do not believe in proclaiming an heir,” said Mandrean “Once one is named, the person wearing the crown tends to have his life cut short.” “You would know all about that,” Betrimpia said just loud enough to be heard. Mandrean’s anger could not be contained as he threw her to the floor.  “Are you saying I had a hand in my father’s death?” Betrimpia feigned terror as she covered her face.  “Of course not.  I merely was saying his untimely death coincided remarkably well with your reaching the age to attain the throne.  No one would ever wish such a fate on you.” “Such fate is not to be tempted,” Mandrean fumed.  “I will name no heir.  Even if I were to do so, it would never, ever, be your son.” Betrimpia crawled on her knees.  “So our son is to have no father?” Mandrean poured a goblet of wine for himself.  “Every child has a father.  Yours simply does not know who it was that soiled his mother.” With great effort, Betrimpia struggled to her feet.  She wiped her tears and said, “Then at least give him the honor of being the Leader of the Imperial Guard.  You will not find a finer horseman or soldier in the empire.” “Leadership in my elite bodyguard is earned, not given.” “Then allow him to join as a new member,” said Betrimpia.  “Let him prove himself worthy of your praise.  That is his only desire.” Mandrean sat on the edge of his bed and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Fendri, have the necessary orders created for Concubine One’s son to be issued the lowest rank in the Imperial Guard and begin his indoctrination.” Fendri stood at attention and answered.  “I shall make the arrangements when I am through here.” “Be satisfied,” Mandrean told Betrimpia.  “For that is all you shall get from me.”

New Excerpt "Quest"

It’s the weekend and the response from the book excerpts has been so positive that I am doing new ones.  Today is a piece from “Quest for the Red Sapphire.”  Some have told me that Linvin was too perfect.  This scene will show that he has his demons.
The next question was whether to bring armament.  Linvin looked at the wall and beheld his long sword from Valia.  He smiled widely and took the weapon from its hanger.  The silver scabbard was decorated in elegant scroll work.  Near its opening, was an inscription.  It read, “Bestowed to General Grithinshield, by the people of Valia, for his relief of the Siege of Sarice.  May his hand never falter!” Linvin drew the sword that had served him well on many occasions.  It was the finest blade he had ever seen, short of his father’s.  Perfectly balanced, it sliced through the air with grace, rarely seen in a weapon. He swiped with it and then drew back in a defensive stance.  He then lunged and spun toward his imaginary target, finishing with a thrust of the pommel, followed by a downward stab.  The tip stuck in the floor for a brief moment before Linvin withdrew it and slashed behind him in a circular motion. Linvin was pleased to see that he had retained his fighting skills.  The movements brought memories flowing through his mind of far off days when he was known as the Defender of Valia.  He smiled again.  The expression however, was to be short lived. Out of the corner of his eye, Linvin spied a black area on the blade.  A sudden panic overtook him as he pulled the blemish closer.  He rubbed it with his finger and it did not change.  Panic turned to horror as he realized that it was dried goblin blood.  With ravenous speed he took a towel to it and scoured the blade as though his life depended on its cleanliness.  After several frantic moments, he stopped and looked for the stain again.  It was still on the metal.  The wiping, as it turned out, had spread the area across the length of the sword. “No!” cried Linvin.  “This cannot be!  It must come off!”  Try as he might, the more he worked on the blemish, the more it coated his prized possession.  Sweat dripped from his brow as he began to pant from the effort. Then he noticed a smell enter the room.  It was not a pleasant odor, but rather the sickly stench of goblin blood.  Its pungent aroma brought vivid images of death and murder to Linvin’s inflamed mind.  He could see the faces of the enemies he had slain.  One after another, they screamed as he cut them down in every conceivable fashion.  Their fallen carcasses spraying blood on Linvin like an ocean wave. He dropped the sword and screamed as visions of slain goblins filled the room.  The walls melted away and he found himself in the swamp again surrounded by living and rotting goblins. “Get out of my head!” he shouted as he grabbed its sides, but the sights persisted.  He tried to cover his eyes, only to find that his hands were drenched with the hot, viscose fluid of the fallen. Linvin stumbled into the wall of the tree and he was back in his room again, though still surrounded by enemies who drew ever closer.  “I must get it off!” he yelled, while dousing his hands in a nearby wash-basin. Stubbornly, his hands remained black.  He scrubbed with a towel until his skin began to tear from the strain.  Still, he found no reprieve. His body shook and he neared convulsions. Crawling on the floor, Linvin wedged himself against the wall.  The goblins had their weapons out and were ready to strike him down.  Linvin folded his hands under his arms to both hide them from sight and try in vain to stop his shaking. “There is no blood!  There is no blood!  There is no blood!” he wailed while rocking himself back and forth.  His enemies were practically on top of him. Linvin closed his eyes and said aloud, “I can control this. I can stop it.  There is no blood.  There is no blood.  I know there is no blood!” He opened his eyes again and he was alone in his room.  His sword lay on floor without as much as a hint of blood upon it.  Linvin withdrew his hands from under his arms and saw only his own blood coming from where he had broken the skin in his attempt to cleanse it from something that apparently was never there to begin with. He rested his head on his knees in relief.  After a considerable amount of time, he picked up the sword and placed it back in its scabbard on the wall.

First Draft Done

I just finished the first draft of my next book, “Mandrean Revenge.”  I don’t like spoilers so I won’t give you any but I must say it goes in a radically new direction that could not have been foreseen.  Fear not fans.  There is still plenty of action to keep you interested and there are some dialogues that will bend your noodle when you think them through.  I’m going with a little shorter book this time as the characters are mostly established.  Now comes the editing phase.  I’m pretty picky about that type of thing and it can sometimes take a while.  I need to talk to my publisher and work on dates for publishing but the point is, the story itself is done.  You’ll want to read “Quest for the Red Sapphire” and “The Sapphire Crucible” first in order for the story to fall in line.  You can find them here:  http://www.amazon.com/Quest-Red-Sapphire-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B00DZ100MO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1403212340&sr=8-1&keywords=quest+for+the+red+sapphire and http://www.amazon.com/Sapphire-Crucible-Chronicles-Rival-Gates-ebook/dp/B00JL0P6IG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1403212407&sr=8-1&keywords=sapphire+crucible  Keep on reading and I’ll keep on writing!

Anvar: Pro or Con @Solsticepublish, @Solsticeshadows

I was reading an email from a fan that had read “Quest for the Red Sapphire” and was surprised to hear that the character they liked the least was Anvar Greenlith.  For those who don’t know, he is the protagonist’s (Linvin’s) uncle and mentor.  The message went on to say that he was overly critical of Linvin and needed to “get off his high horse.”  This person further added that Anvar was useless and just a nag throughout the story.  That is the thing I love about writing.  The same words mean so many different things to different people.  I, for one, have never felt Master Yoda in Star Wars was of any use.  He never gives a straight answer and usually has someone else do the dirty work.  That opinion has never been popular with Star Wars fans but I stand by it because that is the way I see the character.  It is not my intention to defend the character of Anvar because he is like a real person.  Some people will like him and others will not.  Like I said, I love that about writing.  If I were to describe Anvar for someone who had not read the book I would paint him as I envision him.  Anvar is Linvin’s maternal uncle and the only member of his family on good terms with him.  Since Linvin’s Father disappeared Anvar has taken on more of a parental guiding roll.  He is an older small elf though far from feeble.  Anvar may not physically be able to fight or perform the tasks of his nephews but he has magic that serves the party well in the quest.  He is a peacemaker between the warring cousins on the journey.  Anvar is particularly hard on Linvin.  There is no doubt about it.  While it might seem that he is overly critical, Anvar wants to set the bar higher for Linvin.  Only by rising to the challenges Anvar puts forth will Linvin prove his worth.  Is he overly critical?  Absolutely.  He was meant to be that way.  Some have compared him to Gandalf in “The Lord of the Rings” but the characters were never meant to be similar.  Anvar is teaching Linvin and trying to make him a better leader.  I find his roll to be distinct.  Now that I have said all of that I leave it up to you to decide what you think of him.  Does he help or just nag?  If you have read the book, let me know at rivalgates@hotmail.com.  If you haven’t read it then give it a try at  http://www.amazon.com/Quest-Red-Sapphire-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B00DZ100MO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1403126907&sr=1-1&keywords=quest+for+the+red+sapphire

Basics of Twitter @Solsticepublish @Solsticeshadows

Lately I’ve been expanding my following on Twitter.  It really is an amazing site.  I am Rivalgates1 but you can be anyone you want there and write whatever you feel.  There are basically two types of accounts.  There are the people who are just on as themselves or whoever they wish to be.  Then there are the members of fandoms.  If you are in the first group you put a little biography about yourself or who you want the world to believe you are.  For example you could say you are a mother of 3 working as a toll booth operator in New Jersey.  On the other hand you could say you are a windsurfer giving lessons in Tahiti.  How much truth is in the biographies is open to debate.  For the most part I figure, so what if it’s not true?  It’s all for fun anyway.  Maybe in real life you are the toll booth worker but on Twitter you can be anyone.  Usually people like to paint personas of the type of people they want to be associated with.  If you want to be friends with skateboarders, then write something about skateboarding.  If you want to chat with people about reading you would likewise mention it.  The second groups of Twitter accounts are what are called Fandoms.  In this type of bio you place a # in front of a key word you want to use to draw other people of the same liking to you with.  So if you write #Call of Duty then all the people liking the game ‘Call of Duty’ who do searches will find your name.  You can search the same way and find people with #Call of Duty in their profile.  They might have their identification they use in the game so you can find them when you’re gaming on line.  There might also be other fandoms listed on their bio in which you might be interested.  Once you find someone you’re interested in you click ‘follow’ and then you can see all the little messages or ‘Tweets’ they send out.  That person will be sent an email saying you followed them and show your bio.  If they are interested in you then they will follow you back.  A word of advice; don’t follow big name celebrities and expect them to follow you back.  I’m still waiting for Britney Spears to follow me back.  I don’t think it’s going to happen.  After a while you build up a group of people with similar interests to you and see all the different things they post.  You can post links you like as well and it is fun.  The really nice part about it is if you aren’t on line and someone writes something, they don’t really expect you to see it unless they send you a direct message.  That goes right to your email and only to you unless they put multiple recipients.  Then you can answer just them.  The rest of the messages on twitter just roll down the screen.  It’s fun and harmless so give it a shot.  After all, it doesn’t cost anything.

New Excerpt "Crucible" @Solsticepublish

Let me first wish a Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers out there, especially mine.  As promised yesterday, here is an excerpt from “The Sapphire Crucible.”  Enjoy.
Hugon turned toward the hearth to fetch the blistering tongs.  A sudden crack was heard in the air and a long whip sliced though the jailor’s shirt and dug deeply in a diagonal pattern across his back.  He yelped in pain and turned hurriedly.  Standing at the bottom of the stairs was Linvin with whip in hand.   “I told you no one puts leather to me and lives,” Linvin bellowed.  “I will now fulfill that pledge.” “Grithinshield?” Hugon said as he stepped closer.  “You were supposed to be dead by now.” “That is quite ironic when you think about it,” Linvin said as he stuck Hugon in the face with the whip.  “Since it is now time for you to die.” Hugon felt his face and then pulled his hand away to reveal the effect of the last attack.  His skin was slashed from forehead to chin and spewed blood with great intensity.  “I should have killed you when I had the chance.” he yelled at his adversary. Normally Linvin would have laughed but instead chose a more serious tone as he responded, “No one ever said you were smart.  It is time to see how you like your own treatment.” As Hugon closed, Linvin used his superior speed to stay out of reach.  All the while he continued to whip the bully.  The dark, gooey blood began to run down Hugon’s clothes.  His face was particularly scarred.  Every time Hugon would close the range, Linvin would create more distance.  Again and again he lacerated the giant goblin. “If you think you are such a great warrior, then prove it and fight me fairly,” Hugon demanded as he guessed wrong once again on what area to defend on his body. Linvin felt no fear of his opponent and in truth, wanted nothing more than to finish the waste of flesh once and for all.  Instead, he answered in a different way.  “Why would I do that?  It is much more enjoyable to fight you as you are,” Linvin echoed from Hugon’s statement when they first met.  “Now, come get some, Boy.”  The beating was unrelenting. After Hugon was clearly compromised Linvin caught the whip around his leg and pulled the jailor from his feet.  Then Linvin took hold of a flail and began mercilessly pounding the giant goblin.  The beating was ruthless and seemed like it would never relent.   Then Linvin began to think more clearly.  He did not have the luxury of time to waste on his unworthy opponent.  His desire for vengeance had already caused him to squander precious moments punishing Hugon.  He dropped the flail directly next to the goblin’s hand and walked away toward the far wall.  As Linvin bent down to pick something up from the ground, Hugon grasped the flail and stumbled to his feet.  Linvin’s back was turned and Hugon saw an opportunity.  He reeled back to strike when Linvin turned around, expecting the attack, with a bag of salt in his hand.  “Catch.” he cried as he tore open the sack and threw the salt across his opponent’s body.  The white powder clung easily to the exposed blood. Hugon howled in a tone Linvin never heard before as he spun in circles, blinded by both pain and salt.  The time had come for Linvin to end the affair.  He stepped over to the hearth and removed a poker from the coals.  Its point was a brilliant shade of white.  He stomped over to Hugon and grasped his face with a single hand.  It held the brute long enough for Linvin to effortlessly drive the molten shaft of metal completely through the thick torso of the vile creature.  Hugon fell to the ground, having been stabbed through the heart.  He would never move again. There was no time for Linvin to savor his victory.  The key for Miri’s shackles was near the top wheel of the rack.  He unlocked her only to find she was not conscious.   Fearing the worst, Linvin listened for inhalation.  With great relief he heard shallow breathing.  He needed to get her to safety with all due haste. 

New Excerpt "Sapphire" @Solsticepublish

I had some of the highest number of views on my blog when I posted excerpts from my books.  So, in the theme of giving the audience what they want, today and tomorrow I will post two new excerpts.  The first will be from ”Quest for the Red Sapphire.”  I hope you enjoy.
“Alright then,” One said as he approached Six. “What is the status of the target?” Six stepped forward and gave her answer, “I have steadily increased the dosage of the poison in her food as planned.   Her condition has deteriorated to the point where she should be dead by now.” “Does anyone suspect anything other than natural causes?” One asked. “It is unclear,” Six answered.  “She has been increasingly attended by physicians and others.  The poison is very difficult to trace.  The symptoms are ordinary in nature.  It would take a knowledgeable doctor to detect the poison.” “With the finances at her disposal, we must assume that she has such a doctor,” One concluded.  “Is our presence suspected?” “Not that I can tell,” Six answered.  “I made sure the final doses would be administered by unknowing servants.  Not being there when she died, I would never be suspected.” “Let’s get to the point,” interrupted Two.  “Did you find the prize?” Six looked sheepish as she sought the proper words.  “I located it two weeks ago under her bed.  Each day I checked to make sure it was still there.  It was there this morning when I took her breakfast, but when I left this evening, it was no longer under the bed.” The other five voices started to murmur in despair.  One stopped the bickering once again.  “Quiet!” he said.  “If she was as bad off as you say, I do not think she would have had the strength to hide it.  Correct?” “No Sir,” Six answered confidently. “Then someone else must have taken it,” One surmised.  “Did she have any visitors today?” “The doctor came in the morning but he did not have it when he left,” Six answered.  “It would have been impossible to hide.” “Anyone else?” pressed One. Six was quiet for a moment, then she spoke quickly.  “Her brother came to visit this afternoon.  I…I did not see when he left.” “What do you mean?” Two demanded.  “How could you not see him leave?  Did he take the prize or not?” “I said that I don’t know!” fired back Six.  “It’s not like I could just sit there and watch the door all day. How inconspicuous would that be?  In order to maintain my cover, I had to see to chores.  When I went back to check on her, he was gone.” “And that is the point where you noticed it was missing?” One asked. “I did not have the opportunity to check until the end of my shift.  At that point, I noticed the prize was gone.” “Maybe it was hidden somewhere else in the house,” Five said. “If it was,” One surmised, “there is no way to search it with her now being dead.  The mansion will be crawling with Town Watch and investigators.” “So we are foiled!” hollered Two.  “Great.  All these months of work blown in one day!” “Shut up!” Six snapped.  “You would have fared no better.” “This arguing is pointless,” One affirmed.  “The most likely fate of the prize is that the target suspected foul play and gave it to her brother for safe keeping.  If that is the case, then there are two destinations we are most likely to find him.  Either he will be at his home on the other side of town or he will have gone to his nephew’s in Missandor.” “So do we split up?” Five asked. “No,” answered One.  “We will search faster together.  First, we will tear the brother’s house apart.  If we do not find it there, then we will move on to her son. Failure is not acceptable in this mission.  Now everyone move.  We will not sleep this night.” As they scurried down the alley, Two could not help but jab at Six again.  “It figures you would blow this for all of us.” “We will have the prize soon,” Six answered back, “but if you say one more thing I will kill you where you stand.” “Save it for our new targets!” yelled One as they entered the street.

First 1000 Twitter Followers! @Solsticepublish

Today is a watershed day for me.  I finally hit my goal of 1000 Twitter Followers!  Thank you to everyone who follows. It’s not just anyone following either.  There are a lot of people who like the same things I do and think the same way I think.  Remember to check out my web page at RivalGates.com and my first two books at http://www.amazon.com/Quest-Red-Sapphire-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B00DZ100MO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1402616785&sr=8-1&keywords=quest+for+the+red+sapphire and http://www.amazon.com/Sapphire-Crucible-Chronicles-Rival-Gates-ebook/dp/B00JL0P6IG/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1402616855&sr=1-1&keywords=sapphire+crucible  I am on to the next 1000 Twitter followers.  The ride is just getting started so buckle up and enjoy it!

Why AN Open House? @Solsticepublish

As promised today I’m going to talk about open houses.  I thought they were just something that realtors did on Sundays when they were selling your house.  It turns out there is a different definition as well.  The term refers to a sort of Graduation Party done in the spring of your child’s senior year where you put pictures of your child (I assume from the senior pictures) around your house and then set up a tent with folding tables and chairs in your yard.  You have it catered or else buy a ton of food and prepare it yourself.  Then you invite relatives, friends and anyone you can get a gift from to come to the open house.  I went to a few of these when I was dating my wife.  There are lots of people eating potato salad, baked beans, cole slaw, fruit salad, fried chicken and a giant graduation cake.  You walk through every bit of the home almost as if you were looking to buy it and you look through everything this person has done throughout their academic and extracurricular lives.  The parents make everyone feel at home and you bring a gift that is set on a large table.  The gifts are either money or else items that will be of use in college.  It turns out I will likely be having such a party next year.  Once again, the whole concept is strange to me.  This time, at least, I have seen it in action and know what it is about as opposed to the senior pictures.  I’m not going to sit here and say the open house is a bad thing.  It just seems like a pain in the neck.  You have to make your home spotless so it can be messed up by strangers rummaging through your belongings.  Then you must feed and entertain these people.  It’s a good deal for the senior and I suppose it makes them feel important or appreciated.  The whole thing is almost like a business venture in a way.  You have to receive more gifts and money than you spent to make it worthwhile.  Otherwise you would be better off just giving a chunk of money to your child and calling it good.  I never saw anything like this over in Canada.  My parents were proud of me when I graduated.  My friend’s parents were proud of them as well.  But there was no show put on to highlight our graduation.  I suppose there was a time when graduating high school was a major achievement.  Now it is something expected.  Do you not assume that people have graduated high school?  I will be very proud of my daughter when she graduates.  I just don’t understand the open house part.

Senior Pictures @Solsticepublish

As most of you are aware, I am a U.S. citizen who grew up in Canada.  Perhaps it was the part of Canada I was in or simply how it is over there but high school graduation was not such a big thing in Canada.  I did buy a class ring and my mother was right when she said I would never wear it once I was out of high school.  Yet another point in the “Mom Was Right” column.  That was some money I cost my parents down the tubes.  Other than that, your picture was taken for the yearbook and after graduation you went out to a nice dinner with your family.  It seems pretty simple; doesn’t it?  Now that I am back in the States my wife and daughter have taught me that there is a little more to it over here.  I didn’t go through any of this with my oldest child (my son) because he treated school like the chicken pox.  It was something he had to endure even though he found it unbearable.  When he graduated we were all relieved and took him to a fancy dinner.  Now my first daughter is about to enter her Senior Year of high school and I was in for a surprise.  There are these things called Senior Pictures and Open Houses.  When my wife told me to look into Senior Pictures I asked, “Don’t they just do that at the school?”  I was informed that prior to their Senior Year your child needs to go to a professional photographer and have a whole set of pictures taken.  This is much more detailed than I thought.  The first question all the photographers asked was, “How many outfits is she planning to wear?”  That sounded silly.  You wear one outfit and they take your picture; right?  Not so much.  It turns out people change an average of 3 times.  Sometimes they bring along a family pet to be in the picture.  They might bring a friend.  There are outdoor pictures, black and white pictures, pictures in certain locations and various backgrounds.  And every choice you make costs you more money.  Then there are sitting fees, minimum picture orders, charges for different kinds of paper used, framing fees, ridiculous prices for photos and even a charge to look over the pictures and decide what you want.  Then the pictures are categorized into packages.  Let’s say you want an 8x10.  In order to get that you need to also buy (4) 5x7s, (46) wallets, a yearbook picture and (3) poses. Just that part of it is $500.  Then there are all the add-on fees.  Who really uses 5x7s anyway?  I mean really.  At home you put the 8x10 on the wall and everyone else gets a wallet size.  Otherwise some people will be saying, “How come so and so was given a 5x7 and I only was given a wallet size?”  Think it won’t happen?  I bet you it does.  Now let’s say you want something not in the package or perhaps more than the package allows.  Then you really pay.  I’m not cheap…ok maybe I am but this can easily break $1000 for pictures!  I love my daughter.  She is beautiful and a wonderful girl.  When I go in to look at the pictures, you know I’m going to like all of them.  How can you not?  It’s your child and the photographer has touched up the prints to make them that much nicer.  Then they hit you with the time crunch…the ultimate closing tool.  You need to have your pictures done by a certain date and session openings are filling up quickly.  Now you’re under the gun to get this done.  In talking to my wife who has lived in the States her whole life, she explains this is just how it is and to deal with it.  What a racket.  I’ll save the open house thing for tomorrow.  I’m spent.

Excerpt From Crucible @Solsticepublish

Today I wanted to do an excerpt from “The Sapphire Crucible.”  Here is a piece that deals with one of my favorite characters; Necromancer.  It also explains magic in more detail.  Enjoy!
“There is another possibility,” Rander offered.  “He may know who sent the assassins and wants to save us from their grasp.  Necromancer then helped us so we may fight them and find the Red Sapphire.  Consider this.  He has made it very clear we are to receive excellent care.  If he sent the assassins to kill us before, then why would he protect us now?”  Linvin shook his head.  “I am not sure, Cousin.  While I see your point, he appeared quite pleased at finding the key.  It was as though that was what he sought all along.  Even if he did not send the murderers, he wants the gem.”  “Why would he?” Anvar asked.  “The Red Sapphire is truly astounding in its power and scope, but it is only Red Magic.  He already has Colorful Magic.  He would have no use for the Red Sapphire’s power.”  “Colorful Magic?” Linvin inquired.  “I do not remember you mentioning that when you explained magic to me.”  “I did not discuss it before because I believed it was extinct,” answered Anvar.  “You see magic is a complicated subject dating back to the dawn of time.  When people were first created, there were very special and rare individuals who were given the gift of magic.  It was meant to safeguard all of The Creator’s works.  The magic was said to look very much like that which Necromancer uses.  It could take any form or color but in its pure state it most resembled sunlight.  According to legend the several chosen Original Magicians did not tire from channeling the power and their strength could grow or decrease based on factors of which I am unaware.  “As time crept forward, the Magicians grew evil and corrupt with their excessive power.  They used their tremendous gifts to dominate all life in the world.  One by one they fell into darkness.  Each insidious being became more twisted and wicked than the last.  Their bodies contorted with their fall until their forms were unrecognizable and grotesque.   They set their wills and subjects against one another in brutal wars that nearly wiped out life for good.  “Again, as legend states, The Creator was angered and displeased by the wanton misuse of his greatest gift.  It was clear to him too much power had been concentrated in too few hands.  He created a Grand Prism of the Cosmos.  By passing it across the world he reclaimed the magic from the Original Magicians and diffused it into the colors I recounted to you previously.   “The gift was dispersed to a larger number of his creations and given limitations.  Though a greater number of people could be born with the power, the numbers were still relatively few.  When they channeled the power it would tax their endurance, making them subject to their own mortality.  In that way The Creator limited the potential for one person to dominate the world. “To further prevent misuse, He used the Prism to create the Hierarchy of Magic.”  Anvar brushed aside the straw from a section of the floor and drew a triangle in the dirt with his finger.  He made two horizontal lines crossing it at different places, dividing it into three sections.  The first line was drawn two thirds of the way up the triangle.  The second line was drawn just before the tip of the triangle and made a smaller almost undetectable area near the top.   Anvar pointed to the largest region.  “The Magicians here are the Violet and Green Magicians.  As I said before, they are the most common and possess the least power.  They can only block magical attacks from their opposite color.”  He pointed to the second region.  “Next are the Orange and Yellow Magicians.  They are considerably fewer in number and can channel more power.  They can block any attack from a Green or Violet Magician or their opposite color.  The final area is reserved for the Red and Blue Magicians.  They are so rare I have never come across one in all my years.  Their powers can dominate all but their rival color.  They can channel the most power and unleash it with both amazing and terrifying results. “Another legend states the Red Sapphire was actually part of the Great Prism the Creator detached and gave to the world to ensure freedom and stability.  Whether that is true or not is a matter of debate.  What is not argued is the breadth of its power.  Even so, Colorful Magic would inherently be stronger.  “Unless I am mistaken, Necromancer already has Colorful Magic.  How he came to possess it is baffling.  If that is the case, he has no need for the Red Sapphire.  Its power is great but Colorful Magic cannot be overcome.”

Excerpt From "Quest" @Solsticepublish

I have been quite caught up in promoting Book 2, “The Sapphire Crucible” and working on Book 3, “Mandrean Revenge.”  Recently a fan wrote me about a scene from the first book, “Quest for the Red Sapphire” and reminded me of a segment early on in the tale.  I wrote it to show both the good and bad sides of Linvin’s personality.  Please enjoy this excerpt:
“Of course, there will be a victory parade once your men arrive to celebrate your amazing wins.” Such adoration would make many men feel pride and happiness, but for Linvin, each statement made him feel worse and worse.  He had resigned to hold his tongue until he was alone with the king.  However, at the utterance of the last sentence, rage welled within him and he could be quiet no longer. “My men?” he asked.  “Three days ago, I commanded the combined armies of Valia.  Nearly 9000 soldiers marched into that swamp under my orders.  I marched out with little more than a tenth of that number. Of those who live, perhaps as little as half will ever fight again, and for all that, you want to make a statue of me? You want a parade?  You speak of glorifying me but in fact you are celebrating not having to be held accountable for your wrongdoings.” The room was silent.  Laughter had been replaced by shock.  “How dare you come in here and say such things to those who would pay you homage,” snorted one of the noblemen.  “The people in this room are the most powerful men in this country and yet you speak to us like children!” “I did not seek to treat you as children,” Linvin said firmly.  “For even children have more sense than you have shown over these years.” The men were most indignant, though the king simply sat on his throne and tapped his finger on his lips. He looked like one who was watching a play to its conclusion. As the men made a tight circle around the general, one brought his face right before Linvin’s and said, “We are the ones who took this nation from a bunch of farmers and fishermen to the foremost trading nation in the world. We are the envy of the world.  So don’t think a victory such as yours, gives you the right to come in here and insult us General.  Heroes come and go but noblemen always remain.” Linvin’s first thought was to thrash the fat bureaucrat to near death, but he showed restraint in his muscles that did not carry over to his lips. “You are skilled businessmen, to be sure; however, your ears are so used to listening for the sound of dropping coins, that they do not recognize common sense.  For years, I have told you that the army was too small.  For years, I have warned that a serious invasion was on the horizon, yet my warnings and petitions to raise a larger army were ignored.  We had a tremendous amount of time to prepare over the years, yet the army actually shrunk.” “No one wanted to join the army!” yelled one of the men.  “Why take time from the monetary pursuits to become a soldier.  There’s little profit in it.” “And who would join the army?” asked another. “Between the merchant ships, navy, and farms, we hardly have enough people to do the work.  We cannot afford to waste manpower in the army.” “Waste!” Linvin yelled.  “What waste would have befallen this country if I had failed?  Every man, woman and child would have been slaughtered.  Homes and fields would be burned.  Any survivors would have become slaves.  How can you call preventing such a thing a waste of manpower?” “You argue against yourself,” a nobleman said. “You proved us right.  All this time you have asked for more men and yet you had ample forces to complete your task.  You are an anomaly, my good general.” “And how many men fell, who would have lived, if there had been reinforcements?” Linvin asked.  “How many more would have lived, if they hadn’t had to fight 3 days without rest?  How many would have lived, if we could have permitted the enemy to withdraw, rather than risking everything to destroy them utterly.  The number is not known.  What is known, is that there would still be an army protecting this country instead of the few who still breathe.” “Quiet your tongue!” snapped a nobleman.  “You say too much!  You see everything as black and white, when there is an obvious gray area.  Even if reinforcements were available, you have no idea of the cost associated with their hire and training.   Those are costs, boy, that you do not see but we must live with. Think about that the next time you forget your place!” The king hung his head and covered his eyes.  A line had been crossed and the other side would be ugly. Linvin was pushed too far.  His eyes caught fire when hearing his new title.  In one quick movement, he grabbed the man by the throat with a single hand and lifted him off his feet.  Linvin drew him close with ease. “Now listen to me you pompous, arrogant sack of flesh,” Linvin said in a firm, though monotone voice. “Your life exists under the freedom I provide.  Your words dictate that I remove that freedom.”  Linvin’s hand began to squeeze. “That is enough!” the king ordered.  “Linvin, release him at once.”

5 Star Review For Crucible @Solsticepublish

Sapphire Crucible received another 5 star review!  Check out this one by Ray Owen http://www.amazon.com/Sapphire-Crucible-The-Chronicles-ebook/product-reviews/B00JL0P6IG/ref=dp_top_cm_cr_acr_txt?ie=UTF8&showViewpoints=1  In case the link doesn’t take you there, here is the text:

5.0 out of 5 stars  A Classic Quest, June 2, 2014

By Ray Owen - See all my reviews

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This review is from: Sapphire Crucible (The Sapphire Chronicles) (Kindle Edition)

First, I would like to reveal that I had not read Rival’s earlier book “Quest for the Red Sapphire,” and I think he did an excellent job of bringing me up to speed with the storyline in the prologue. It was easy to realize this was a classic quest fantasy from the start. The main character Linvin was fleshed out very nicely with the colorful characters and challenges he faced as a leader of this small band of warriors. I really enjoyed the unpredictability of some of the characters, especially the wizard, whose alliance between good and evil was always questionable. That little bit of intrigue just made the story that much more enjoyable.

I like stories that build and this is one that definitely does that, putting lots of heated action near the end. This is an A-lister when it comes to young adult readers. I would recommend it with no hesitation. Now, I must go back and read book one of this series, !

 

Ray Owen - Author of Tempered Throne\

My Son's Birhtday @Solsticepublish

Today is June 4th.  What is significant about this day you may ask?  Lots of things.  In 1942 the Battle of Midway marking the turning point in the Pacific War took place.  In 1989 the Tiananmen Square massacre took place in China.  In 1940 the Dunkirk Evacuation saving hundreds of thousands of British and French Soldiers ended.  In 1919 Congress passed the 19th Amendment to the Constitution allowing women to have the right to vote.  From Hollywood, Angelina Jolie was born on this day in 1975.  And in a hospital in Michigan in 1991 my first born child and only son was born.  I should have seen it as a sign of things to come when he was born in the middle of the night.  He has always been one to stay up late…and as a child kept us up late when he wouldn’t go to sleep.  I’m told that you make your mistakes with your first child and figure it out with the others.  That night I made a rookie mistake.  After he was delivered the doctor asked if I wanted to cut the cord.  I was terrified and said, “What do you think I’m paying you for?  I’m not going near him with something sharp!”  So they cut the cord and cleaned him up.  Then they put him under a heat lamp which calmed him right down.  Here comes the mistake.  The nurse asked if I wanted to pick him up.  I eagerly agreed and lifted my son for the first time.  As soon as he was out of the heat he screamed like I really had cut him.  I moved him around but it was no use.  Then the nurse took him and set him next to my wife on the delivery table.  He calmed right down.  From then on he associated me picking him up with crying and my wife holding him contentment.  It did not stop at infancy.  When he would be in his play pen he would throw his toys at me.  He once caused an accident when he threw his bottle from the back seat and hit me in the head.  The blow made me turn my head for an instant and I rear-ended the car in front of me.  There was a popular show back then called “Dinosaurs” when the baby would throw things at the dad from his high chair and yell, “Not the Mama!  Not the Mama!”  That was my son!  And it all began when I was foolish enough to take him out of the warmer first.  With my next two children I let the nurse take them out and give them to my wife.  I only held them once they calmed down.  As a result, they liked me fine as babies.  When my son was turning 11 I was out of town in Winnipeg, Manitoba on a temporary assignment.  The people I was working for were so pleased with my work that they offered to take me with them for a weeklong trip to Lake of the Woods for a guided fishing trip with all the food and beer I wanted.  It would mean missing my son’s birthday.  I spoke with him on the phone and could not bring myself to say I would miss it just so I could go on a trip.  So I finished my work, collected my last check and drove 22 straight hours to get back to Michigan a half hour before he woke on his birthday so the first face he saw that day would be mine.  I was his hero then.  My status has faded over the years but my love for that boy hasn’t.  They say the ultimate proof of whether you made a good decision or not lies in whether you would make the same decision again knowing the consequences.  I look at my son and know life would not be the same without him.  He means the world to me and I wish him a Happy Birthday.

My Shampoo Stand @Solsticepublish

Yesterday I was looking out the window and a bunch of kids in the neighborhood were running a lemonade stand.  They had signs made up and there were 10 children in all working the stand and yelling to cars driving by.  I really didn’t have time to stop by but I wondered what they were charging for the lemonade.  Split 10 ways I didn’t figure it would go too far.  It reminded me of when I was younger.  I was about 9 years old.  At the time we lived in condominiums in a suburb of Toronto, Ontario called Mississauga. (The inspiration for the town of Missandor in my books)  We also had a cottage on the north shore of Lake Erie where we spent our summer vacations.  I was obsessed with sunken pirate treasure at the time.  Although everyone in the family assured me that no Spanish Galleons sank in Lake Erie, I was determined to find the treasure in the sand just off shore.  At a local store there was a package for sale with a mask, snorkel and flippers.  It cost $7.99.  I wanted it but it was May and with Christmas in December and my birthday in January, there was no way I was getting those tools in time for summer.  I had to come up with a plan.  I schemed with my next oldest brother who was the wise age of 11.  Selling lemonade wouldn’t work because we didn’t get the foot traffic necessary to earn enough to buy two sets of gear.  Then we noticed a pile of shampoo and conditioning bottles in the closet.   I don’t know if my mother was recycling them or just hording them for some other purpose but they would work.  We determined to make the strongest shampoo and conditioner there ever was.  The recipe started with water.  Then we would shave off bar soap and float it in there.  It’ll dissolve; right?  Then we added Lava soap we had worked into a lather, Comet Cleanser and Cascade from under the sink.  The conditioner just didn’t have the chucks of soap.  In all we made 30 bottles.  At $1 a piece we stood to make a handsome profit.  The next problem was our front door.  It was the type with a piston that closed automatically when you let go.  So we wedged it open with some gloves but that didn’t hold.  Then we stuck boots in front but they were too light.  Fortunately Mom’s good Sunday dress pumps were there and we wedged them under the door.  It held!  Next we set up a card table and loaded it with our product we were sure would clean.  How could it not?  As we searched for chairs to sit behind the table, our mother came home from work.  When she saw her shoes she was furious.  We had to move the table in order for her to enter the door.  She slammed it closed and dragged us into the living room to explain ourselves.  When we divulged the ingredients of our products I can still remember her saying, “Oh My Heavens, we’re going to be sued!  You didn’t sell any, did you?”  We had not quite reached the consumer.  She made us pour out every bottle of product and throw away the empties so there was no evidence of them.  After my father came home they both interrogated us intensely.  When they saw the effort we had put in and the reason, they broke with tradition and bought us the gear even though it was not a special occasion.  We blissfully spent our summer days scouring the lake floor not more than a few feet from shore.  Sadly, no treasure could be found but it never stopped us from searching.