May Day

May Day

MRJones

The brilliant ribbons of a May Pole fluttered in a gentle breeze on the back lawn of Evelyn Eden’s home. Later in the day, a dance would weave the ribbons into a colorful sheath. Smoke and the aroma of roasting meat filled the air. Allyn Jones stood in the shade of a live oak, watching Etienne Comeaux tend the barbecue when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and read the text from Vassily Alexandrovitch Nabokov. He snorted.  The Russian got himself invited to the May Day festivities on a promise to bring vodka from his private stock.

“Vassily’s almost here.” Allyn put his phone in his pocket.

“He’s early.” Etienne put another chunk of oak in the firebox of the smoker. “Probably all excited about it being May Day.”

“More likely he’s excited about seeing Evelyn again. He’s smitten with her.”

“Smitten.” Etienne scoffed. “Aren’t you jealous?”

Allyn laughed. “No. I know she’s a sucker for tall redheaded magicians.”

Suddenly, shrieks came from the tool shed and two men tumbled out, flapping their arms around their heads. Bobby Boudreaux yelled, “Buddy’s attacking us!”

“There’s a nest in there!” Jason Thibodeaux ducked a small silvery creature as it darted through the air. “Buddy built a nest!” It clipped the bill of his Astros baseball cap, flipping it off him. “Allyn, do something! Call him off!”

Etienne turned to the redheaded magician and asked, “You let him loose?”

“No.” Allyn whistled, then called, “Gwibber!” The creature continued to harass Jason and Bobby as they swatted and cursed.

Evelyn stepped out onto the patio with Vassily. His smile faded when he heard the noise and saw the fracas going on at the shed. Glacial blue eyes grew wide in recognition. Shaking his head, he said, “This is not good.”

Jason left his cap where it lay. He and Bobby ran to the barbecue pit. He snapped at Allyn, “Do something with that flying lizard of yours! He’s trying to kill us!”

Vassily said, “If he wanted you dead, he would eat you.”

“That little monster can’t eat something as big as me.”

“Trust me, he isn’t always little.”

Bobby brushed singed hair from the back of his head. “What’s he doing out?”

Evelyn looked at the ground. One copper eyebrow went up. Allyn asked, “What have you done?”

She shrugged and said, “I let him out to get rid of the feral hogs that were tearing up the pasture.”

Allyn’s jaw muscles worked and veins stood out on his forehead. His head tilted slightly. “And he’s still out because?”

“I left him loose because he was doing such a good job.”

“You left him loose?” Allyn sounded unnaturally calm. “You left Gwibber Cymry loose? Unsupervised? We’re having a party and you left him loose?” Allyn seemed even taller as he glared at his wife.

“He likes being out of the amulet.”

“Yes he does,” Allyn said. “Please go get the amulet.” She went into the house. He started walking down the path to the shed. “Come on, let’s see what kind of damage he’s done.”

Vassily walked alongside him and said, “Do not be angry with her, big man, she is protecting her property.”

“She should have told me,” Allyn muttered. “She has no concept of the damage he can do on his own.” They stopped in front of the shed. From within, they heard high pitched chirps.

Bobby said, “Jason and I heard that when we went in to get the tractor to haul the extra tables and chairs up to the patio. That’s when Buddy attacked.” He rubbed a red welt on his forehead.

Allyn’s mouth set in a straight line when he stepped up to the door and looked in. In the dim interior, he saw a pile of twigs on top of the tool cabinet. The other men peeked around him. Vassily said, “That looks like nest. Something is in it.”

“KGB taught you to spot the obvious, didn’t they?” Allyn grouched. A buzzing sound rose from the nest and a glint of silver sparkled over it. As Bobby and Jason jumped away, a silver streak flew toward them. Allyn’s hand became a blur of motion. He caught the tiny dragon. It squeaked and wriggled as he inspected it. “This isn’t Buddy.”

Evelyn walked up and heard this. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know! It’s a female.” Just then, the dragon bit his finger and when he flinched, she got away and darted back to the nest. There, she turned to face the humans, hovering in place, ready to defend the tiny dragon who popped its head up and trilled.

“We have a baby dragon!” Etienne said.

“Great. Just what we need with all the friends and relatives showing up later,” Allyn grumbled. Blood welled and ran in large drops from his bitten finger. Suddenly, the air stirred as if a huge fan had been turned on. A solid thump shook the ground. Everyone turned to see a whole feral hog lying behind them. A gigantic dragon swooped in, landed, and folded his wings. Dazzling silver scales gleamed in the sunlight. Buddy stood taller than the shed. Brilliant amber eyes glittered as they darted from person to person. Flickers of fire shot from his nostrils with every breath. “Gwibber.” Allyn held out his hand. The large dragon lowered his head and made a cooing sound. His tongue flicked out and licked the blood off Allyn’s finger. The bleeding stopped.

Vassily turned to Jason, who stood gaping at the silver behemoth nuzzling Allyn’s hand. “I told you he could eat you. This is how I met him. He is not funny little toy.”

“No, he’s not,” Jason said as he edged away from the big dragon. He caught the sleeve of Bobby’s tee shirt and pulled his cousin along with him. Bobby yanked his shirt away from Jason and stayed close.

Allyn spoke Welsh to Buddy when two silver streaks bolted from the nest, flew like darts to the hog carcass and started tearing into it, rapidly stripping meat from the bones. Bobby’s eyes grew wide as he watched. “How can they eat so much?”

Allyn shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is they can eat like that every day and still shrink down to housefly size.”

“It is magic. Never ask how it works,” Vassily said. He reached out and stroked Buddy’s head. “You are good dragon. You need to be small now. Jason is afraid of you.”

Buddy snorted sparks. Allyn said, “You heard him. Get small or get in the amulet.” A rush of air filled the void left when the hulking presence reduced to lizard size. The female dragon sat on a rib of the polished skeleton, grooming. Buddy landed by her and twined his neck with hers. The youngster took to the air and flew around Allyn’s head chirping and trilling until it sneezed. Flames shot from both ends. “Give me the amulet.” Evelyn handed the silver dragon medallion to him. Faster than the eye could follow, his left hand shot out and grabbed the baby. He said a few words and clapped his hand over the amulet. The baby disappeared.  The adult dragons glared at him. “I’ll let him out after the party.” They went back to necking.

“It’s a boy?” Etienne asked.

“Yeah.”

“Can I have him?”

“Only if you promise to clean up after him.”

“Cool.”

“Bobby asked, “What’re you gonna name him?

“May Day.”

Fight on the Fairway: an Easter Story

By MRJones

“C’mon, get a move on. Our tee time is in five minutes.” Allyn Jones slung his golf bag on his shoulder and strode out the door of the clubhouse. Etienne Comeaux was right behind with Bobby Boudreaux following.

“I thought we were gonna have a golf cart,” Jason Thibodeaux griped as he brought up the rear.

“Walking’s good for you,” Etienne said as they walked out into the bright morning light of Easter Saturday.

They teed off, and as they played through the first five holes, they saw brightly colored eggs along the edges of the fairway. Bobby asked, “Are they having an Easter egg hunt later?”

“I didn’t hear about anything like that,” Jason said as several small dark brown rabbits hopped across their path.

As they approached the sixth hole, they heard the two men ahead of them arguing. A man in red golf clothing was yelling, “EB, you stomped your big foot and made your ball roll in!”

A tall man, wearing a pastel green shirt with pink, purple, and yellow pastel plaid golf pants, replied in a squeaky voice, “It fell in on its own.”

“You cheated!”

“Did not!”

The man in red took a swing at the man in pastel with his putter. EB hopped aside and morphed into a giant rabbit in golf clothes. The rabbit grabbed a club from his bag and parried the next swing with his nine iron. The brown bunnies scurried away from the two warring golfers.

Etienne looked at Allyn and said, “That’s Santa trying to beat the stuffing out of the Easter Bunny or someone put acid in my morning coffee.”

“No acid,” Allyn replied. Bobby and Jason stood gaping at the scene.

The battle on the green turned into something akin to a scene out of Braveheart with the combatants using their clubs as two handed broadswords. As Santa and EB stomped the green and turned divots up with their cleats, the bunnies scampered toward Allyn and his companions.

The scent of chocolate was strong in the air as the bunnies swarmed around. One ran across Jason’s foot, leaving brown smears with its feet. Jason bent to inspect the substance and said, “That’s chocolate! Those are chocolate Easter rabbits.” He took off running after the one that had touched him, saying, “I’m gonna catch me a chocolate bunny and bite his ears off!”

“Jason, come back!” Bobby hollered. Jason kept chasing the chocolate bunny as it zigged and zagged, leaving a trail of colored eggs. Bobby turned to Allyn and Etienne. “Somebody’s gotta stop this! We can’t let them kill each other. And Jason’s gone nuts.”

“I never knew the Easter Bunny was as big as Harvey,” Etienne said. “I’ll break it up.” He parked his golf bag and ran toward the battling duo. They paid no attention to Etienne’s attempts to separate them. Etienne ducked one club only to get hit in the head with the other. He fell to the turf unconscious. EB pressed his advantage and drove Santa back until he tripped over Etienne.

As Santa scrambled to his feet and charged at his opponent, Allyn used his power as Manawyddan to draw a fog from the water hazard. The thick fog obliterated the course from sight and muffled the shouts. The clanging of steel clubs stopped.

Santa called out, “Manawyddan, call off your fog.”

“No, Nick. You and EB have lost your minds fighting like this. I’m not clearing it away until you swear you’ll make up and play nice.”

A loud groan was followed by, “I swear I’ll kick both of you into the bayou for the alligators to eat if you even think about swinging a club at anything but a golf ball.”

“You okay, Etienne?”

“Yeah, Allyn, I have a goose egg on my head and a bad attitude toward those two, but I’m alright.”

“Fog stays till I hear your pledge of peace. I’ll go so far as to send you two into another dimension if you don’t.” Allyn started chanting in ancient Welsh.

“Stop, stop!” EB said. “I confess. I thumped the ground and made my ball fall in.”

“I knew it! You rascally rabbit, you cheated!”

“Like you didn’t call the north wind to help that long shot you played into the third hole?”

“You both cheated,” Bobby said. “You should be ashamed of yourselves. Little kids all over the world look up to you. You have rules about them getting Christmas presents and Easter candy. The kids have to be good. You have to be good. No presents or candy for either of you this year.”

“Boudreaux’s right. We’ve been bad, EB. I swear I’ll be good from now on.”

“Me too,” EB said. The fog lifted, revealing Jason holding the chocolate bunny, about to bite its ears. “No! Don’t bite that one. I’ll bring you a bunch you can eat, but don’t eat that one.” Jason looked up at EB, grinned sheepishly and set the chocolate rabbit on the grass. It hopped into the rough and hid.

“Let’s finish our games,” Allyn said. The rest of them looked at him and, for a moment, they saw the tall magician in his robes, green eyes glowing and long red hair flowing in the winds of time. Then, they finished their game.

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Easter bunny

Fight on the Fairway: an Easter Story

By MRJones

“C’mon, get a move on. Our tee time is in five minutes.” Allyn Jones slung his golf bag on his shoulder and strode out the door of the clubhouse. Etienne Comeaux was right behind with Bobby Boudreaux following.

“I thought we were gonna have a golf cart,” Jason Thibodeaux griped as he brought up the rear.

“Walking’s good for you,” Etienne said as they walked out into the bright morning light of Easter Saturday.

They teed off, and as they played through the first five holes, they saw brightly colored eggs along the edges of the fairway. Bobby asked, “Are they having an Easter egg hunt later?”

“I didn’t hear about anything like that,” Jason said as several small dark brown rabbits hopped across their path.

As they approached the sixth hole, they heard the two men ahead of them arguing. A man in red golf clothing was yelling, “EB, you stomped your big foot and made your ball roll in!”

A tall man, wearing a pastel green shirt with pink, purple, and yellow pastel plaid golf pants, replied in a squeaky voice, “It fell in on its own.”

“You cheated!”

“Did not!”

The man in red took a swing at the man in pastel with his putter. The pastel golfer hopped aside and morphed into a giant rabbit in golf clothes. The rabbit grabbed a club from his bag and parried the next swing with his nine iron. The brown bunnies scurried away from the two warring golfers.

Etienne looked at Allyn and said, “That’s Santa trying to beat the stuffing out of the Easter Bunny or someone put acid in my morning coffee.”

“No acid,” Allyn replied. Bobby and Jason stood gaping at the scene.

The battle on the green turned into something akin to a scene out of Braveheart with the combatants using their clubs as two handed broadswords. As Santa and EB stomped the green and turned divots up with their cleats, the bunnies scampered toward Allyn and his companions.

The scent of chocolate was strong in the air as the bunnies swarmed around. One ran across Jason’s foot, leaving brown smears with its feet. Jason bent to inspect the substance and said, “That’s chocolate! Those are chocolate Easter rabbits.” He took off running after the one that had touched him, saying, “I’m gonna catch me a chocolate bunny and bite his ears off!”

“Jason, come back!” Bobby hollered. Jason kept chasing the chocolate bunny as it zigged and zagged, leaving a trail of colored eggs. Bobby turned to Allyn and Etienne. “Somebody’s gotta stop this! We can’t let them kill each other. And Jason’s gone nuts.”

“I never knew the Easter Bunny was as big as Harvey,” Etienne said. “I’ll break it up.” He parked his golf bag and ran toward the battling duo. They paid no attention to Etienne’s attempts to separate them. Etienne ducked one club only to get hit in the head with the other. He fell to the turf unconscious. EB pressed his advantage and drove Santa back until he tripped over Etienne.

As Santa scrambled to his feet and charged at his opponent, Allyn used his power as Manawyddan to draw a fog from the water hazard. The thick fog obliterated the course from sight and muffled the shouts. The clanging of steel clubs stopped.

Santa called out, “Manawyddan, call off your fog.”

“No, Nick. You and EB have lost your minds fighting like this. I’m not clearing it away until you swear you’ll make up and play nice.”

A loud groan was followed by, “I swear I’ll kick both of you into the bayou for the alligators to eat if you even think about swinging a club at anything but a golf ball.”

“You okay, Etienne?”

“Yeah, Allyn, I have a goose egg on my head and a bad attitude toward those two, but I’m alright.”

“Fog stays till I hear your pledge of peace. I’ll go so far as to send you two into another dimension if you don’t.” Allyn started chanting in ancient Welsh.

“Stop, stop!” EB said. “I confess. I thumped the ground and made my ball fall in.”

“I knew it! You rascally rabbit, you cheated!”

“Like you didn’t call the north wind to help that long shot you played into the third hole?”

“You both cheated,” Bobby said. “You should be ashamed of yourselves. Little kids all over the world look up to you. You have rules about them getting Christmas presents and Easter candy. The kids have to be good. You have to be good. No presents or candy for either of you this year.”

“Boudreaux’s right. We’ve been bad, EB. I swear I’ll be good from now on.”

“Me too,” EB said. The fog lifted, revealing Jason holding the chocolate bunny, about to bite its ears. “No! Don’t bite that one. I’ll bring you a bunch you can eat, but don’t eat that one.” Jason looked up at EB, grinned sheepishly and set the chocolate rabbit on the grass. It hopped into the rough and hid.

“Let’s finish our games,” Allyn said. The rest of them looked at him and, for a moment, they saw the tall magician in his robes, green eyes glowing and long red hair flowing in the winds of time. Then, they finished their game.

Spring Sprang into My Yard

clump of paper whitesclose up quince 3BB blossomspink running roseviolet close upno lady bugazaleamore narcissusplum tree

Spring started with the paper whites popping open, giving hope of the return of life. Then the quince bloomed with its scarlet petals stark against the bare branches. Violets peeked out and plums blossomed. More quince brightened the scene. The days grew warmer and the pale pink rose, the one that grows from cuttings and has thorns like barbed wire, began to open and cascade from the roof line. In another spot, the gift of the birds, a wild blackberry blooms and sets fruit while the not-a-lady bug procreates. Across the yard is a wall of color. The azalea bushes that I moved from my parents house are in full bloom. Spring sprang into my yard and I like it.

Swamp Irish and the Leprechaun

By MRJones

An unusually thick fog muffled the footsteps of the men as they followed the path to the tractor shed. It pooled under the huge water oak, making ghostlike shapes in the trailing Spanish moss. Bobby Boudreaux shivered and said, “I don’t like this. It’s spooky working out here in the fog.”

“You think there’s monsters gonna get you?” Jason Thibodeaux teased. “Maybe an alligator gonna swim through the fog and eat you.”

“Something just don’t feel right. It’s like the fairy fog in that story Allyn’s in.”

“I’ll get rid of it.” Allyn Jones stopped in front of the shed, held up his hands, and said a few words in Welsh. The fog dissipated. Tapping sounds came from the shed. Tick, tick, tap, tap, tap, like a small hammer being used.

Etienne Comeaux opened the door. The noise stopped. He looked around and saw nothing out of place. “Must be a rat or something,” he said as he climbed onto the tractor. Before he could start it, they heard it again, louder. Tap, tap, tick, tap. It sounded like it was coming from the cabinet where the hand tools were kept. Etienne got off the tractor and walked over to it. Tappity, tick, tick, tick. Allyn stepped in the shed. Tickety, tap, tap. Etienne asked, “Allyn, are you playing a trick?”

“No. Why would I do anything to slow you down? Evelyn wants the garden plowed today, not tomorrow.” Tick, tap, tick, tap, tick, tap.

Jason said, “Maybe it’s the alligator with the clock in his belly from Peter Pan.”

“Or maybe it’s a leprechaun. It is St. Paddy’s Day,” Etienne said with a grin.

“We’re not Irish,” Bobby said, “And we’re in Texas.”

“You’re all Swamp Irish.” Allyn yanked the cabinet door open. The contents were exactly as they should be. He ran his fingers through his red hair, shook his head, and closed the door. “Get the tractor started and out of here. We have a garden to get ready.” Etienne cranked up the tractor and backed it out. They hitched the plow up and he drove to the garden.

Allyn said, “Jason, Bobby, take those hay forks and loosen that pile of manure so I can scatter it before Etienne plows.”

On the first turn, the handle on Jason’s tool snapped in the manure. “What the heck? This was a new handle.” He looked at the steel fork stuck in the pile and the handle in his hands. When he bent to pull the fork out of the pile, he fell face down in it. They heard a giggle. Jason scrambled to his feet spewing and spitting. “Bobby, I’ll get you for pushing me!” he shouted as he wiped his eyes.

“I didn’t do it. I’m on the other side of the pile,” Bobby said. They heard another giggle and tap, tap, tappity, tick, from the shed. “That’s creeping me out,” Bobby said.

“Me too,” Jason said as he brushed manure off his clothes. “Allyn do you have any idea what’s happening?”

“Yeah, it’s St. Paddy’s Day and we’re plowing the garden. Step back.” He waved his hands at the pile of manure and it went flying to the garden where it spread out evenly. As it drifted down, a gust of wind caught it and blew some onto Etienne.

He coughed and yelled, “Allyn, that got me!”

“I didn’t do that.” They heard the giggle again.

Etienne set the plow and started. Throughout the day, they were plagued with minor setbacks. Every time, they heard that laugh and the tapping sound. By late afternoon the sun shone on the freshly tilled garden. Etienne drove back to the shed. As soon as he shut off the tractor engine, they heard the tapping again. Tick, tap, tick, tap, tap, tap.

Evelyn Eden and her cat Bob walked up just then. “What’s that noise?” Bob’s fur fluffed out and he let out a low growl.

Allyn said, “Something’s making a racket in there. We looked and couldn’t find anything.” They heard the annoying giggle again. Tap, tappity, tap.

Evelyn said, “Bob, get it.” The big bobcat bounded into the shed and began sniffing around. Tick, tap, tap, tap. Bob began clawing at the cabinet door. Evelyn opened it. Bob pounced. A shrill squeal turned into a string of Celtic curse words. The cat had his teeth on something that did not want to be dragged out into the open. His haunches flexed as he pulled. He shook his head and growled.

They all heard the voice say in a thick Irish brogue, “Turn me loose, you monster!” Allyn’s right eyebrow went up. He stepped over to Bob’s side and reached into the cabinet and took hold of some cloth with a limb in it. He and the cat pulled. They heard, “By all gods in Ireland, are you trying to kill me?!”

“Maybe I should, you little pwka!” Allyn looked over his shoulder. “A little help here?” Etienne grabbed Allyn’s shoulders and pulled. Jason and Bobby joined in and they heaved back. A sound like a giant cork being removed from a huge bottle filled the shed. They all tumbled back into a pile. Bob got to his feet and shook the creature he held in his teeth.

“Bloody cath paluc! Call it off!” the creature squealed.

Allyn sat up and saw what Bob had.  A little man was struggling to get out of the coat Bob had his teeth in. Allyn shouted, “Bobby, Jason, grab him!” They scrambled to grab the man by his arms and legs. He put up a fight, thrashing wildly. Allyn and Etienne joined the fray. The four men and the cat rolled around, trying to subdue the little man.

The melee stopped when Evelyn stepped up, reached down and touched the intruder, saying, “Stasis.” The wee man ceased to move.

Bob turned loose and stood back growling, his fur standing in a ridge down his back. Etienne, Jason, Bobby, and Allyn disentangled themselves and stood, looking at what had given such a fight. Only three feet in length, he wore brown knee breeches and a white linen shirt. His brown stockings were bunched around his ankles and his green jacket was torn where Bob’s teeth had latched on. Shiny silver buckles gleamed on his leather shoes and on the belt around his waist. His craggy wizened face was frozen in a grimace, his limbs in the position he was in when Evelyn touched him.

Bobby was the first to speak. “We just caught a leprechaun, didn’t we?”

“It’s the guy off the Lucky Charms box,” Jason said.

Etienne nudged him with the toe of his boot. “Sure looks like him.”

“He shoved me into the manure.” Jason said.

“He screwed with us all day.” Etienne said.

“What’re we gonna do with him?” Bobby asked.

“We can’t feed him to the gators today,” Allyn observed, “they’re all hibernating.”

“I could use him as a garden gnome,” Evelyn said. A tiny squeaky groan came from the static leprechaun.

“We need to find out why there’s a leprechaun in Southeast Texas.” Allyn looked at Evelyn. “If you would be so good as to release him from stasis, we can ask him.” He looked at the cat. “Don’t let him get away.” Bob nodded and put a big paw on the leprechaun’s chest.

Evelyn waved her hand and the leprechaun’s limbs went slack. He lay on his back looking up at the people who caught him. “I guess you want me pot of gold? Well, you’re out of luck. I was robbed before I got here.”

Allyn leaned down and studied the captive’s face carefully. One side of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. He laughed. “You lying bit of fairie dust. You never had any gold.”

The little man curled his lip back in a sneer. “And you’d know, wouldn’t you, you miserable overgrown ginger mongrel. I know who you are. You’re one of the seven.”

“And I know you. Tell me why you’re here or you’ll wish I’d killed you back then.”

“No need to get nasty about it. I was looking for a place to hide and gather me wits.”

“That’s a lost cause. What are you hiding from?”

“A bit of trouble.” Bob growled and flexed his paw, putting his claws through the shirt. “Call off this beast.” Bob licked the leprechaun’s face. The wee man fainted.

Allyn picked him up and shook him none too gently. He came to and started kicking. Allyn set him on the floor and said, “Ev, stick his feet to the floor.” She pointed at him. The leprechaun struggled, but couldn’t budge either foot.

Evelyn spoke. “Finnbheara.”

“Aye, that’s me. You have me by all rights.” At that, the little man’s ugly face blurred and changed to a handsome one with fine features and smooth skin. He looked her up and down, and said, “I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance, my lovely.”

“I’m not your lovely anything, you womanizing little troll. You’re on my land and here I’m the Queen. Behave yourself or you’ll never see Eire again.” She had her finger pointed at him. “You’ll be a lawn ornament.”

Finnbheara bowed. “Your majesty, I beg your forgiveness and your protection.” He looked at the four men standing around glowering at him.

“I’ll give you no protection from them or the cat.”

“You’re no better than the Morrigan,” he groused.

She raised her hand and pointed her finger. “You can be dust to make my garden fertile. The fairies can find a new King.”

“Oh me, you may as well,” he sighed. “Me wife tossed me out of me house because I was dallying with the pretty girls.”

“I should send you back to her trussed up and in stasis so she can do with you as she pleases.” Finnbheara cringed.

Allyn said, “He owes us some time in the garden. He slowed us down and broke every tool he could. He’s not going home to Una until he’s worked that off.”

“Thank you laddie. I’ll see to it you have a fine crop. Might I have a bite to eat and a drop to wet me whistle?”

Before Evelyn loosed Finnbheara’s feet, she said, “You’ll turn to stone if you even think of acting out.”

“You have me word. I’ll mind me P’s and Q’s. Now what do we have to eat and drink?”

“Alligator gumbo and Shiner Bock.”

“We’re eatin’ dinosaurs and drinkin’ weak beer?”

Evelyn pointed her finger and Finnbheara became still and silent. She said to Etienne, “Bring the garden gnome along, he can watch us eat dinosaurs and drink Texas beer.”

I ate a leprechaun

Characters in this story, except for Finnbheara, appear in the novel Slant Well.

Slant Well sales links

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Advertising Ash on the Stairs

I am now two weeks into selling my debut novel, Ash on the Stairs. The Graphic Maggy Ad Agency is handling my efforts. I had not used that aspect of me in quite a while. I dragged the wild haired hippie out of the past and sat her at the keyboard. I’m learning to place ads on the run as well as build neatly prepared collages to paste in with copy.

I perused Pinterest for images to add to the book cover. I found a platinum, ruby. and diamond ring, red Manolo heels, red ballet shoes, and the perfect Jesse tote. These and a few other images that fit my mind’s eye are what I used here.

 ATOS 3 side pics  PicMonkey Collage AOTS AOTS collage red shoe ringValentine collage Ash on the Stairs AOTS collage ATOS ell 2

As you can see, I’m having fun. I hope the effort I’m making will pay off. I won’t complain about five-star reviews.

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Ash-Stairs-MR-Jones-ebook/dp/B00SVE1MIQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422997621&sr=8-1&keywords=ash+on+the+stairs&pebp=1422997635574&peasin=B00SVE1MIQ

Ash on the Stairs launched

What a weekend! My debut novel, Ash on the Stairs, launched into the sea of readily available reading material. I held my breath, waiting to see if my baby would hit the water and make a ripple, or bounce off a frozen surface. I felt like little grasshopper, sitting with the blind monk, tossing pebbles in the water.

The ripples spread. At first the sales were to my family and friends. That was my pebble. One person finished reading it and posted a 5 star review. The ripples spread. My posts flowed out as one fan shared to another fan of the genre. Every thing I did in the planning stages paid off. That ripple ran beyond my first ring of core human contacts and passed beyond the friend of a friend of a friend.

I’m an adrenaline junkie with a background in nursing and advertising. When I realized word had spread beyond the reaches of my little world, I was as high as a human can get without drugs. I juggled between twitter, facebook (two accounts and six groups), google+, tumblr, Amazon, and the people who believed in a first time writer, Eternal Press.

Working my way through two days of seeing to and dealing with the transition from, “I sold my manuscript,” to “My book is published,” brought back to play a Don Draper side of me. It just flowed. I may be babbling, but this weekend was worth all the work. I started a little ripple and I’m ready to ride it to wherever it takes me.

ASH on the Stairs cover art for release small image

 

Eternal Press http://eternalpress.biz

Amazon  http://www.amazon.com/Ash-Stairs-MR-Jones-ebook/dp/B00SVE1MIQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422997621&sr=8-1&keywords=ash+on+the+stairs&pebp=1422997635574&peasin=B00SVE1MIQ

http://www.facebook.comMargueriteR.Jones

Super Sunday, No Bowl Involved

I know this Sunday is Superbowl Sunday. I’m not much of a sports fan but I usually watch the game. This year I doubt I’ll see it. This blasphemous act will be done because there is something happening that day that is more important to me than football. My novel, Ash on the Stairs, is being released by my publisher that day.

Ash on the Stairs, an erotic romance, is the first of my works to make it to print, so this will be a big deal for me. I get to go to the big leagues and play with the pros. It is something I had on my list of things to do for a long time. It was work. It was fun. Now the game begins. To market the story and gain a widespread audience is the game that’s afoot.

I feel like the quarterback who depends on the rest of the team to to work with him to get the ball down field and across the goal line. I hope all my friends, fans, and readers will pass the word along so together we can take this story to the rest of the world. I want to make a touchdown. I want to run the winning play. I want the world to fall in love with Jesse Ash and Travis Daniel.

On Sunday, Ash on the Stairs will be available from Eternal Press at http://eternalpress.biz later it will be available from Amazon and Barnes&Nobles, as well as other fine booksellers.

ASH on the STAIRS cover art for release

He shook his head. His golden eyes had that predatory gleam in them. “Little girl, you have so much to learn. Edward is my driver. He’ll wait for me. I can take all the time I want.” Travis Daniel, CEO, the man who gets his way, walked across the little space between us. “You took the subway this morning after I gave you money for a taxi. I’m not happy about that. I don’t want you to take the subway because I don’t want perverts groping you.” He stood so close I felt the heat of his body. “I want to be the only one groping you.”  Ash on the Stairs by MRJones

Countdown at 14 days to Ash on the Stairs

Only fourteen days until Ash on the Stairs is released. I have the pre-release jitters. Ticking down to the launch of my first novel is to me like the countdown for a space launch is to NASA. So much to go right. The culmination of a lot of work. Please let the rockets fire and a successful lift off occur.

I want the reading world to fall in love with my characters and their story. I hope what happens on the stairs will leave the reader wanting more. ISBN 9781629292151

ASH on the Stairs cover art for release small image

Press release for Ash on the Stairs

Press release for Ash on the Stairs

Ash on the Stairs, the debut novel by MRJones, takes erotic romance to a new level of enjoyment through hot sexual situations, captivating characters, and twisting plot lines. Set in the high rise world of New York City, corporate intrigue and mystery give depth to a tale with a heat level that all but scorches. It begs the question: “Can a stairwell provide refuge from a predator and be the place where fascination leads to something more?”

Jesse Ash takes the stairs at work to avoid a predator and meets a man with golden eyes. He confronts her and talks her into joining him for the evening. A game with no names leads to a night of sex. Will this continue when his identity is revealed? Travis Daniel owns the stairwell and the company. He wants Jesse’s heart. When the predator resurfaces, will they rise above the circumstances to find justice and love?

“Your book took me slowly, and I liked it.” Erin Lale, author of American Celebration.

“I have never read an erotic story written with as much intelligence and talent. It is a pleasure to read your book.” Katie McKnight, author of Secrets Revealed

“If you don’t buy this book, you won’t know what you’re missing. You’ll be out of the loop when everyone is talking about the amazing debut erotic romance from this up and coming author.” Roberta Codemo, Codemo Writing Services

MRJones is Marguerite R. Jones, a native and current resident of Beaumont, Texas. A lifelong storyteller, she took that talent and turned it into a career as a novelist.  A follow up to Ash on the Stairs, Ash on the Beach, is in the works. Slant Well, a contemporary fantasy set in Southeast Texas, will be published by Eternal Press later in 2015.

Ash on the Stairs will be released by Eternal Press on February 1, 2015. The erotic romance will be available in paperback and e-book from Eternal Press, Amazon, Barnes & Nobles, and many other fine booksellers.

Contact Eternal Press at http://eternalpress.biz  Contact MRJones at maddmagz@gmail.com

ISBN: 9781629292151