‘Watch RWISA Write: Month-long-blog-tour: Featured author Marcha Fox. #RRBC #RRBC_RWISA @startrailsIV

RWISA MARCHA FOX TOUR

Rave Writers – International Society Of Authors (RWISA)

August is Watch RWISA Write month. We will showcase a different author each day. Today, we celebrate author Marcha Fox.

Lets learn a little more about MARCHA.

Marcha Fox is a prolific writer who has addressed a wide variety of subjects, but her favorite is science fiction. It began as a love of astronomy, which eventually led to a bachelor of science degree in physics from Utah State University. This was followed by a 21 year career at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas where she held a variety of positions including technical writer, engineer, and eventually manager. Her NASA experiences included trips to Cape Canaveral in Florida, visiting other NASA centers in Mississippi, Alabama and Maryland, as well as trips to the European Space Agency in The Netherlands, but the most memorable was the sad task of helping to recover space shuttle debris in East Texas following the tragic Columbia accident in 2003.

Her Star Trails Tetralogy Series incorporates her knowledge of physics and space travel within a family saga set on a primitive planet where survival is an ongoing struggle, which is further complicated by political intrigue. While some of the science is speculative, her goal is to represent it as accurately as possible, allowing her readers to learn accurate principles in a painless, entertaining manner within the context of the story. More information on the individual novels in this series, the science behind them, as well as the status of future stories can be found on the series website at http://www.StarTrailsSaga.com.

Never at a loss for something to do, she enjoys gardening, her two Bengal cats, family history, and pursuing her study of the heavens in yet another realm, that of astrology. Her astrology clients span the globe, accessing her through her expansive and informative website at http://www.valkyrieastrology.com. She has authored a variety of books on the subject, taught online for the International Academy of Astrology (IAA), spoken at conferences and individual groups, and published articles in the journal of the International Society of Astrological Research (ISAR).

“At one time, science, religion and astrology were an integrated whole, which has obviously disintegrated over the years,” she explains. “Science and religion have been at odds with one another for centuries, and astrology gradually had a falling out with both. What they fail to tell you in astronomy class is that Kepler, Galileo, Copernicus, and Newton were all astrologers on a quest to obtain more accurate data for their astrological readings and predictions. The objections of the Christian church are more complicated, but it remains a mystery to me how they can believe that God created the planets, yet not recognize how He uses them to communicate with His children. I started out as a skeptic, but nothing religious leaders or scientists say can ever change the fact that it works.”

She is currently researching material related to how modern physics theories could explain astrology as well as how Christianity gradually evolved to oppose it, in spite of the fact that the Old Testament prophet, Abraham, is considered by Jewish mystics to be the greatest astrologer of all time.

“Nothing would please me more,” she states, “than to make some small contribution toward bringing science, religion, and astrology back together, where they belong.”

She is the mother of six grown children, 17 grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. She has lived in New York, California, and Utah before making her home in Texas

***

 

Your Wildest Dreams

By Marcha Fox

I inhaled sharply when I recognized the introductory riff wafting from my favorite 80s station as Your Wildest Dreams by the Moody Blues. Even though I had the original 45 RPM record, the album on cassette tape, and more recently, the CD, I kept them safely locked away so I wouldn’t binge on it. Nonetheless, when KPLV, 93.1 FM in Vegas, got around to playing it every few weeks or so, I’d indulge in a break, a delicious reminder of why I was here.

Consumed by ethereal and intimately familiar soundwaves, I got up, closed the blinds, and even though it was unlikely the song’s strains would penetrate my office’s cinder block walls, plugged in my headset so I could crank it up—I mean really up. I melted back into my chair, eyes closed, with what was probably an idiotic smile on my face, savoring each note as the song segued into its lively, 142 BPM tempo. The next three minutes and forty-one seconds, I’d be in heaven.

Even though this song came out eight years after she left, the first time I heard it, back when I was still in college in ’86, I knew two things: One, it would always be “our song”; and Two, I had to find her.

My heart leapt with visions of galaxies beyond, of what might be out there, where she might be. I plunged headlong through space and time, besieged by memories burned into my heart as permanently and painfully as branding was to a newborn calf. Did she remember? Feel the same thing I did? Sense the enchantment of fate-entangled lives?

I memorize pretty easily, which comes in handy, especially with things like the Periodic Table or Maxwell’s equations. And of course, favorite songs. These particular lyrics struck me, hard and personal, from day one, certain it’d been written exclusively for me.

As my eyes teared up, logic intervened and yanked me back to planet Earth.

Grow up, Benson! What are you, a total schmaltz or what?

We were kids, for heaven sakes. A teenage crush. I should’ve gotten over it, but never did. No wonder. Girls like her are rare. One of a kind. She’d already experienced things I never would. Things that were part of my wildest dreams.

The admonition failed, pushed aside by that part of me that felt alive again, jammin’ like a total jerk, mouthing the words as I sang along in my head. It’s not like I’m a teenager anymore, though at the moment I felt like one. No, memories of the heart never die—can’t die, ever—even if you try to kill them.

I’d give anything to talk to her. Which of course I have, numerous times over the years, if only in my head. Okay, aloud more often than I care to admit. I could swear it even felt as if she answered a time or two. I suppose that’s how it is with your first love. Or your first kiss, even if it was only a peck on the cheek. It penetrates your soul and stays there forever.

That mid-summer day in ’78 hauling hay was as vivid as yesterday in my mind’s eye. The cloudless sky, sun hot on my neck, the aroma of first-crop alfalfa sweetening the mountain air. I scratched my shoulder, a reflex memory of itchy, stray leaves sticking through my T-shirt. My chest ached as I remembered tear tracks streaking her dust-covered face at something I’d said. Then, days later, that withering look when we lied about her ship.

The one we still have. What’s left of it quietly abandoned beneath a tarp in Building 15, here at Area 51.

How she knew we weren’t telling the truth, I’ll never know. Pretty funny it’s still sitting there. And I’m sure she’d think so, too. I can just hear her saying, “Stupid snurks, I knew they’d

never figure it out.” Though actually they did, just didn’t find technology worth pursuing. Even contractors didn’t want it.

I had to admit it was pretty crazy, but she was my motivation to get where I was today: just short of a decade of college linked with serendipity that put me in the right place at the right time, hoping someday I’d find her. My life had changed a lot since then. How much had hers changed? Did she make it home? Was she still alive? With the effects of relativistic travel, which I understood only too well, she could still be a teenager, while I was easing into the infamous dirty thirties.

Not good. If I ever did find her, she’d probably think I was some lecherous old fart. Either that, or, with my luck, she’d be married with a bunch of kids. I winced with the thought.

My sentimental reverie vanished when my office door slammed open and Hector Buckhorn rolled in. Literally. Hec’s been stuck in a wheelchair ever since he crashed his hang glider into a New Mexico mountainside during spring break his last semester of college. He ridge soared a lot, particularly around Dulce, over restricted areas where he wasn’t supposed to be. Got caught a couple times, but being Native American, never got in trouble, even though it wasn’t his home reservation. He’s amazingly good at playing dumb, in spite of—or possibly because of—his 150ish IQ. He never talked about his accident, said he couldn’t remember. Makes sense, actually, given he suffered a massive concussion. The only time I ever saw him pissed him off was when he woke up in the hospital and discovered they’d shaved off his hair, since grown back beyond shoulder length.

I dropped the headset around my neck and faked a frown. “Don’t you ever knock, butthead?”

“Hey, man, wazzup?” he said, giving me a funny look. “You okay?”

I laughed. “Of course. Just thinking. Remembering. You know.”

“Ahhh. They played that song again, didn’t they?”

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I, Chief?”

“Nope. I figured you were up to somethin’ with your blinds closed.”

He wheeled over to the grey metal, government-issue table on the other side of the room and helped himself to a handful of peanut M&Ms. Once I’d realized during my PhD days at Cal Tech that, in a pinch, they made a pretty decent meal, I’d kept that old, wide-mouth canning jar full. He dumped them in his mouth, perusing me with knowing, dark eyes.

“You were sure enjoyin’ that song of yours,” he said, not even trying to stifle his crooked grin as he munched away.

“Yeah,” I replied, uncomfortable with the conversation’s direction.

“We’ve known each other a long time, Allen,” he said. “Don’t you think it’s time you told me about her?”

“Not much to tell.”

He let fly with a popular expletive related to bovine excrement. “C’mon! What’s her name?” he persisted.

I blew out my cheeks and sighed, knowing resistance was futile. “Creena,” I answered, surprising myself when, again, I got a little choked up. I avoided his eyes by likewise heading for the M&Ms.

“So find her,” he said.

“It’s not that simple,” I replied, pouring myself a handful. “I don’t know where she is.” A statement that was truer than he could possibly imagine.

“I have some resources who could help,” he offered with a conspiratorial wink.

I shook my head, then stalled by popping a few colorful orbs in my mouth.

“Why not? If she’s anywhere on this planet, these guys’ll find her.”

I swallowed hard and paused; met his gaze. “She’s not.”

He scowled, making him look a lot like those old pictures of Cochise. “Say again?”

“She’s. Not.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I assumed she’s dead. She must’ve been quite a girl.”

“She was. Is. She’s not dead. At least as far as I know.”

His jaw dropped, shocked expression broadcasting the fact he’d caught the implications. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Abductee?” he whispered.

“Nope,” I answered, raiding the candy jar again. “Immigrant.”

His eyes widened as he spewed an expletive that elevated excrement to sanctified status. “Don’t tell me she’s an EBE!”

I nearly spewed partially chewed M&Ms across the room. Extraterrestrial biological entity, indeed! Yet by definition, actually, she was.

I chuckled at his expression and shook my head. “No. Quite human. At least as far as I know.”

“Are you?” he added, chocolate-colored irises rimmed with white. His reaction surprised me—UFOs, even aliens, were no big deal in his culture, just business as usual with the Star People.

“C’mon, Chief! You’ve known me since tenth grade, running high school track!”

He leaned back, searching my face with more solemnity than I’d seen since I told him how Dad died. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, bro,” he said finally, shaking his head.

“You have no idea,” I said, throat constricting as scratchy lyrics from the headset, audible only to me, issued another reminder of why I was here.

Copyright © 2017 by Marcha Fox

[NOTE:–This is an excerpt from my upcoming novel, Dark Circles, a slightly dark, hard sci-fi love story. No release date has been set.

Contact via:

Twitter

Facebook

Blog/Website:

Blog

Website

Titles:

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH “RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

AUTHOR MARCHA FOX RWISA PAGE

BOOK REVIEW: “Ultimate Betrayal” By Jo Ann Wentzel @WentzelJo #Science Fiction #Dystopian. #RRBC

BOOK COVER ULTIMATE BETRAYAL BY JO ANN WENTZEL

BOOK REVIEW: ULTIMATE BETRAYAL. By JO ANN WENTZEL.

Meet author Jo Ann Wentzel.

Jo Ann Wentzel Book Review Bio

Jo Ann Wentzel has been married to the same man, Dan Wentzel, for over 52 years. She is a mother, grandmother and former foster care provider. She worked with over 75 kids while also working as a writer for weekly newspapers and many websites. She served as a Guardian-Ad –Litem and Court Mediator. She and her husband have been speakers and workshop presenters for many groups including foster parents. Almost two years ago, she and her husband retired to a motor home and travel the US with a rescue dog named Jessie.

Ultimate Obliteration is Wentzel’s fourth book and sequel to her novel Ultimate Betrayal. In her first novel, she describes her setting this way “Imagine a dystopian world where society cannot protect their children from moral decay and the spread of evil.” Ultimate Obliteration continues finding a solution to this issue with many using their own brand of justice.

The Rave Reviews Book Club selected her book It Begins and Ends with Family as one of the Books of the Month. This book describes her experiences working with challenging teens and the secrets to running a foster home.

Wentzel also wrote a book A Collection of Jo Ann’s Thoughts, a selection of a variety of her articles in answer to many of your questions.

She has several writing projects in the wings so you certainly will see more of this author.
Jo Ann wants to thank all readers who support her and would love to hear from you. All contact information, more of her writing and a forum to express yourself is available on her website, authorjoannwentzel.com

 

I am reviewing “Ultimate Betrayal.”

BOOK COVER ULTIMATE BETRAYAL BY JO ANN WENTZEL

BLURB.

Imagine a dystopian world where society cannot protect their children from moral decay and the spread of evil.

Andrew Zenith, a conscientious local TV reporter, never worries about getting ahead just making a difference. He uncovers a story that will change the direction of his life forever. After hearing this story, all he thinks about every moment is confirming the facts he hopes are not true. He is driven to save the children. This task is near impossible since the majority of people have cold hearts and a loss of compassion for others.

He joins with others who care. Their mission-is to save the children at all costs. If their mission fails young lives will be ruined and even cut short. The fate of the children rests upon finding answers to the questions no one even wants to ask. Will he succeed against overwhelming odds?

 

MY REVIEW: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 A look into a frighteningly possible world.

This book may well be science fiction, and set in a future Dystopian society, but, you would need to be utterly hidden from our current society, with no outside communication whatsoever, not to understand that this book can well reflect with rare exception, the inhumanity exhibited in our world today. Not in some far distant time.

The character of Andrew Zenith is presented well. Author Jo Ann Wentzel’s writing allows us to feel the many layers of this man, his passion for life, his compassion for those for whom life has become unbearably dark. Most notably the children with nowhere to run and nowhere to turn to for safe-haven.

The book permits us a glimpse into a future where the desensitization to other people’s pain has created a callous indifference to suffering, and a well-shielded conscience.

The story is classical good vs evil. What sets it apart from other such classic tales is the author’s ability to allow many shades of both darkness and light to co-exist. It is a complex co-existence. Author Jo Ann Wentzel weaves it well.

An entertaining and thought provoking read indeed. I look forward to reading the sequel.

Purchase Ultimate Betrayal on Amazon.com

Jo Ann Wentzel’s Amazon Author Page.

TWITTER LINK

Author Website

 

Talent Spotter #14. Featured Author: Bev Allen.

My featured author today is Bev Allen.

The Tattooed Tribes.

Talent Spotter Bev Allen Tattoed Tribe cover

From war they came, from violence they became. Now on a faraway world our settlers see war looming once more. The settlers had to adapt to survive, once again living off the land like our ancestors of old. The Tribal Liaison Guild is formed to distill tension between the tribes, as the smallest issue could now lead to war. John Harabin is the senior Liaison Officer, and he needs an apprentice to train for the future.

A lad from town, sixteen year old Lucien Devlin, becomes John’s perfect protégé. He loves the wild jungle and his curiosity craves to see the tribes above the cataracts, except he doesn’t follow rules, yet rules are all that will keep him alive in that treacherous territory. Criminals kidnap a young girl to stir up unrest, whilst exploitation threatens domestic peace. Tensions rise when John Harabin liaises to distill the volatile situation, but standing in his path is the rebellious Lucien.

Tense action and adventure ensue, Lucien’s quest becomes a path of destiny, and it’s now up to Lucien and his friends to find a solution that will lead to peace.

One of the Five star reviews from The Tattooed Tribes.

Format: Kindle Edition

When Jon Harabin of the Tribal Liaison Guild takes on an apprentice to accompany him beyond the cataracts into tribal lands, nothing prepares him for Lucien Devlin. This boy has a real issue with authority and often lands up in trouble, but his high spirits may just save the day.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading about these tribes on another world, the jungle, the river, the sense of colour and culture, and the characters are real, I certainly identified with them. Even the criminals were well-rounded and believable, and added spice to an already exotic tale.

Add to that some great twists and surprises and it will keep you reading too. Definitely worth it!

MY REVIEW:🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

On a distant and often hostile world, the human race survives. Their ancestors learned of war first hand, and now their world is under threat as the devastation of war looms once again.

Author Bev Allen has a deep understanding of the fears and traditions that drive us all in order to survive, her characters spring from that empathy. Each character is crafted so beautifully that we begin to understand the passions and the traditions that drive them forward, not always with wisdom.

The author gives us an entire world here, a world and a people with honor, tradition and custom.

A society that now balances on the edge.

John Harabin is tasked to seek balance between the factions, and to that end, he chooses an apprentice to further that work.

That choice: A sixteen-year-old young man named Lucien.

Lucien is willful, defiant, and hell bent on causing John Harabin more than his share of nightmare situations. A teenager of the future.

The fragile peace is put at great risk by the kidnapping of the daughter of a highly placed official.

Fingers of blame are pointed and tensions rise dangerously.

In order to forestall war they must find the girl.

The land is wild, and beautiful; and as all wild country is, it possesses inherent danger.

The author has managed to intertwine the world of Science Fiction with fantasy and more; it is a marriage of genres and it works beautifully aided by her deft and descriptive touch.

I’m very aware of spoilers and this book is too good to spoil for the reader, it is a clever, thoughtful and deeply insightful journey into our fears, our joys, and the traditions that make us human and vulnerable.

I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Talent Spotter images links for Liza Oconnor


Purchase Here on Smashwords
Purchase here on Amazon UK

Purchase Here on Amazon.com