Tag: love-story

Redemption

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Excerpt

…at their destination, and they should fasten their seat belts. Hermes
looked down from the window. It was a cloudless night. He had a
superb panoramic view of the city, full of lights flickering in the dark.
He could distinguish the streets and the tall buildings as the aircraft
slowly descended.
They landed, and Hermes got up to take his carry-on bag from
the overhead compartment, stepped off the plane, and said goodbye
to Tom. An airline official led Hermes down the long hallways to the
baggage area. He found his suitcase from the appropriate carousel
and made his way to the arrivals area, where people waited for their
friends and family members. Happy voices were everywhere; people
embraced one another, kissing, laughing, and crying. He turned
around as if to see someone he knew. There was no one there, he knew
no one, and this was his first bitter moment of realization that he was
so far away from people he loved. He wished Magda were here. He
then sat on a bench and wondered aloud,
“And now, where are you going, Hermes?” A question justified
under the circumstances, a question he had no answer to, only the
sense of loss, of abandonment, of forlornness, and fear crept into his
heart. Then, as if from the great source, he felt he heard a voice that
whispered to his heart, not to his ears. And it was the voice of his new
motherland that said,
“Welcome, Hermes, you are here in Vancouver now, go out
there, find your way to do your studies and get your diploma. Your
folks are waiting for you, back in Greece. They look forward to seeing
you back. Your diploma is your goal and nothing less…” were the
words he felt he heard, and the voice wasn’t any other but the voice
of Canada, his temporary motherland, which, like a mother, took
another orphan off the streets and gave him a chance.
Suddenly, the fear he had just felt vanished, and a jolt of enthusiasm
took over his senses. Hermes stood up. His eyes ran around the
space of the large airport hall when his glance met the old woman
whom he had helped in Montreal; she saw him too. At the same
time, a very tall man with a good-looking woman approached…

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763858

The Unquiet Land

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Excerpt

When he and Caitlin returned to the sitting room the music was just starting again, and dancers were sorting themselves out on the floor. But a sixteen-hand reel in the sitting room was much too ambitious. The set collapsed amid shouts and laughter, but the music played on.
“Fiddlers are tireless,” someone said. “Wouldn’t it be good if they could pull a plough?”
“And play the fiddle at the same time.”
“That Dan Ryan is always on the fiddle—no matter what he’s doing.”
“Hey Molly, what about a song?”
“Give us The Sally Gardens, Molly.”
“Good girl, Molly.”
“Come on now, don’t be shy.”
“She’ll start in a minute. Just wait and see.”
“Sure she hasn’t the shapin’s o’ beginnin’ on her.”
“She has surely. Good girl, Molly.”
“The Sally Gardens, Molly.”
Molly Noonan began to sing in a clear soprano voice the first of many songs. Almost everyone in the sitting room performed a song, a recitation, a step-dance or a tune on the fiddle or the pennywhistle. There were no more set dances. As the evening wore on, the ceilidh became quieter.
In the kitchen a few women sat around the table talking over cups of tea.
“I still think she’s pregnant already,” said a thin, bony woman with a face as sharp as the prow of a skiff. “You mark my words, she’ll be a mother well before nine months are out.”
“Maire Kelly, you’ve an evil tongue in your head.” Una Slattery was loyal to Caitlin whom she had cared for as a little girl.
“No, I haven’t,” said Maire. “But I have a sharp eye. I can tell when a woman’s pregnant. And I’m always right. Wasn’t I right about the Dooley girl? And Lizzie Thompson? And I’m right about Caitlin MacLir.”
“Caitlin Carrick,” said Maggie Potter, a woman in her thirties more talked about than talkative. She had been engaged for thirteen years to Willy Dunn, a farmer who refused to leave his mother to marry.
“Caitlin Carrick. I’m sorry. I’m not used to that yet.” Maire Kelly was a stiletto-tongued spinster not known to be afraid of speaking her mind. “Barbed wire in a black dress,” was Slattery’s description of her. “Mind you,” Maire went on, “I’m not reproaching her. It’s happened manys a time before and it’ll happen manys a time again. Michael Carrick is a handsome big man, straight and steady as they come. He’ll make a good husband and father.”

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763203

Jazz with Ella

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Excerpt

Hank stopped before a hammered gold ladle outlined in pearls, which had been owned by Tsar Volodya Feodorovich and was dated 1618. “Wow, dig this jewelled pooper scooper.”
Marty laughed. “Hey, take a look at Lona. She’s practically salivating over that medallion.” The two darted over to join her in front of a glass case.
“What is it?” Hank asked her.
“An encolpion,” Lona said, without tearing her eyes away from the outsized milky-blue sardonyx. “It was made in the 17th century.” Carved on its surface was a depiction of a haloed St. John set within an oval gold filigree border studded with jewels.
“Bet it’s worth a bundle,” Hank said.
Natasha scurried over, too, just in time to catch Hank’s last words. “Treasures of the Armoury are closely guarded,” she announced.
“By whom? Is that your security?” Lona asked innocently. An elderly woman, face lined, kerchief on her head, sat slumped, hands in lap, in a plain wooden chair near the doorway.
“Oh, Natasha, yoo-hoo!” called Linda Appleton. The guide winced as Linda descended on her like a warship sailing into action. “Can you tell me whether photos are permitted in here because David is taking lots of them?” As they moved off to sort out David’s picture-taking proclivities, Hank took the opportunity to corner Lona.
“So what’s an encolpion?” he asked, not expecting an answer.
Lona turned away from the showcase reluctantly. “It’s a medallion worn by bishops, of course. Don’t you know anything?”
Hank couldn’t think of a suitable response so he sloped off, frowning.
★
If they had visited only the Kremlin that first morning, it would have been enough stimulation for the jet-lagged travellers. Jennifer had already used up half a notebook with details of their breakfast, the church, the soldiers’ uniforms and the carriage of Catherine the Great. But instead of stopping for lunch, their tour guide led them out of the Armoury, back into Red Square and up to the longest and most silent of queues that they had seen thus far—for the mandatory visit to Lenin’s tomb.
“Lenin’s memorial has been closed to visitors during renovations,” she told the group. “You are lucky to visit on this one day that it will be open.”

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

Straits and Turns

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The Dancer
It was a cloudy April day; one could hardly discern the mountains to the north shore, where two mountain peaks resembling lions stood facing each other as if they were playing a good game of chess without any concern for the people of Vancouver, down by the shores. These two lions were so symbolically attached to the lives of Vancouver citizens that they had named the bridge which connected the Lower Mainland with the North Shore ‘Lion’s Gate Bridge’, the same way the Hellenes had the Lion’s Gate at Mycenae.
Costa was sitting by the window of his one-bedroom suite and kept writing a few lines of the novel he had started a few months earlier, as his eyes suddenly left the paper and gazed at the expanse towards the North Shore, on the other side of the harbour. Indeed, Vancouver was a beautiful city situated on the edge of the land by the Pacific Ocean, on the west side of which the lands of the Orient were located, including Japan, Korea, China, Vietnam, and, to the south, Australia.
He got up to refill his coffee mug and lit a cigarette. It was Tuesday, his day off, so he didn’t have much to do other than write a few lines and perhaps go to Stanley Park for a stroll until his wife came home. His mind ran to the nasty letter he got from his father when he disclosed to them that his girlfriend from Athens had joined him in Vancouver and that they lived together and perhaps they’d get married soon so she could stay permanently; his girlfriend had come with a visitors visa which meant she had to leave in three months unless Costa married her thus making her wife of a legal immigrant.

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763866

He Rode Tall

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But for the most part, it was a year or so here and there with postings
to what sounds like exotic locations, such as New Guinea,
Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Cape Town, Chile, South Korea, and Lisbon.
A long time ago, Joel had figured out that he wasn’t getting the top
assignments any longer, but at this point, he was just thankful to
have a job, any job as an engineer and he knew that he was desperately
hanging onto this posting.
Early on at Empire, he figured out that Mr. Lee wasn’t a fan of
his hard-drinking nightlife and was less than excited about tolerating
it. Mr. Lee had explained to Joel on his first day at the new
office that he had asked the home office to consider sending
another engineer to help with this project. It wasn’t that Mr. Lee
didn’t know Joel’s abilities yet; it was that Mr. Lee already knew
of Joel. In the maritime engineering community, word gets
around fairly quickly, and the word on Joel was that he was a
has-been, or maybe more accurately, a never-been. Recruited to
the firm right out of university at the age of twenty-two, Joel was
marked for great things. There was no doubt that Joel had an
incredible wealth of potential, but that potential seemed to dry
up a long time ago.
So here he was, six months into a project to shore up the foundation
of an old terminal, and after a twenty-five year career with
the same firm, Joel could sense that the end was near. Already
the project was way behind and significantly over budget. And
Joel knew that although they couldn’t pin everything on him,
many of the problems were a direct result of him screwing up.
Being as he was, from consuming vast quantities of alcohol daily

Joel just couldn’t keep up anymore. At best he was
half the engineer that he used to be and even back then he was
only putting in half the effort. If his calculations were right, Joel
figured that he was probably functioning at something close to a
quarter of an engineer. This project really needed a fully functioning,
experienced senior engineer. He knew it. But he wasn’t
about to change. Or even if he wanted to, and some mornings he
certainly felt like he wanted to, but he just didn’t even know how…

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897955

The Circle

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Excerpt

…whatever it takes to reach that point. He wants to make sure Emily understands
that right now he has to play along and do as Hakim says. The old man and
Talal’s promise to him hold him to that resolve; he has to follow this path for a
while yet, but things are going to change soon. Things will change as soon as they
get to Iraq and Talal has his own personal group of men to work with.
“No Emily, no, he answers her, but leave that to me for now. However, I
promise you that over there we’ll be respected by a lot of people. We’ll be listened
to a lot more than we are here; we’re going to be treated like royalty when we are
there, and you’ll be next to me when I command a lot of people to do as I please,
you’ll see. Leave this to me; our time is on its way. I won’t have to obey Hakim or
do whatever he wants me to do every time.”
Emily gets up and puts her robe on, feeling somewhat skeptical and
disheartened. From one point of view, she understands Talal has to do things for
Hakim; he has promised that to Ibrahim and a man’s promise is like gold when
the man is a man, as this man is in her eyes. However, she would like him to have
some independence and do as he pleases. She doesn’t know how to address this
at this time, so she leaves it alone for now. But, she is sure of one thing—Talal is
her man and her man won’t be a follower the way Matthew was his entire life.
Talal kisses her at the door and leaves.
He meets Hakim at the park entrance; finds him agitated and asks why.
“What is it? You look upset.”
“Ibrahim is not well. I’m afraid I may have to go for a while. It all depends on
how his biopsies turn out. I’ll find out soon.What’s new with you?”
“Ahmed has got the package; I’ll bring it for the Admiral on Saturday.”
“Excellent; what else do you know?”
“Nothing much. We need George Pappas to show up and list the house; have
you talked to him?”
Hakim takes his mobile phone and dials George’s number.
“George, this is Hakim; I have some more business for you. Jennifer’s mother
wants to list her house for sale; can you go by there tonight and get the
paperwork done?”
George agrees.
“It’s done; seven o’clock at Emily’s house.”
Hakim is pleased.
“Good, now we can start getting ready to go. I’m going to let go of a few
shares in the next couple of days to finance our next trip.” Talal says.
“Just give it a few days. I had a conversation with my broker in New York and
he’s looking for a potential buyer. If we are lucky, we may see the price of stock
improve a lot in a short while.”

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/0978186524

The Unquiet Land

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“I must admit, Flynn, that I have had a few but I am not yet drunk.” Clifford spoke with aristocratic self-assurance. “I merely want to inject a more light-hearted note into our conversation because people are looking at us and they are all—including your stepmother-in-law who has just gone upstairs—they are all expecting us to become violent and start shouting at one another like you and Jim Patterson. I don’t really want to be involved in that kind of confrontation. And there needn’t be a national confrontation either. If only you Nationalists would see reason and admit that, yes, there are two nations—two distinct, well-defined, ethnic groups sharing this tiny Devil’s island. We have a larger group that is Catholic by religion and Irish by history and heritage; and we have a smaller group that is Protestant by religion and British by history and heritage. Two groups, though. Two nations. And there’s no disputing the fact. Accept it like a gentleman. Then simply agree that the Irish Catholics will govern themselves in one part of the island, by far the larger part; the Protestant British will govern themselves in the other, much smaller part; and we’ll all work together in harmony and cooperation to make the whole island a fit and happy place for all. Thumb your nose at the Devil, Flynn. Give God back his island. For I doubt if he wants it the way it is now.”
“The only ones I thumb my nose at are the British,” Flynn said. “They are the ones who did the Devil’s work. They can undo it by giving the island, the whole, undivided island, back to the Irish whose country it is.”
“It’s too late, Flynn. The Devil’s work is done, and not even the British—not even God himself—can undo it now. No doubt the British wish they could. But at least their Government of Ireland Bill recognises the present state of affairs. It’s offering us a parliament in the South, a parliament in the North, and a Council of Ireland for the whole country. What could be wrong with that?”
“It’s two sham parliaments and a Council that can’t raise a single tax or command the services of a single policeman.” Flynn jabbed a finger against Clifford’s chest. “And what is even more galling is that the British proposals rob this Council of ever being able to become a real political power in the country. The British have given a minority of the Irish people a veto over any such development. Do you expect me to rejoice over anything so blatantly unjust? Six counties have control of all the development of self-government in thirty-two. A quarter of the population can veto the liberties of three-quarters.”

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Straits and Turns

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The predictable phrases came and went, and the warmth of the
wine, combined with the body heat of the people in the room, made
the atmosphere cozy. Even the conversation grew softer and fluffier as
the wine flowed. When Paula got up to visit the powder room, one of
the guests, Kostas, found the courage to lean in and ask, “Hey, Costa,
is she hot?”
Costa flashed his widest smile at the poor man, but before he
could reply, Vangelis butted in. “Don’t worry about Costa. He’s got it
right. He can pick and choose.”
Costa could almost see the man salivating at the concept.
He laughed out loud, but now the doorbell interrupted them, and
as their host went to greet the new arrivals, Costa saw Anna, the
airy, sexy, pretty, and ethereal Anna, enter the foyer, her husband
close behind. Anna was always perfectly dressed, always trendy and
sexy. She walked gracefully, elegantly, through the living room, and
Costa’s expert nose picked up her light lilac perfume. He fixated his
eyes on her, and he sensed that Anna knew he had been watching
her as soon as their eyes met. Somewhere between her sexy walk and
her faint, provocative smile, Costa saw the prettiest female of the
evening.
How do women always know when a man is looking at them?
Costa had often wondered about this but had never found an answer
that satisfied him. But they always know. And they almost always
smile back. It must be the same knowledge Costa always had when, in
a gathering of women, one, that special one, would be looking at him
with desire amid others who didn’t give a damn. It was knowledge
acquired from experience, and a womanizer like Costa had plenty of
that. Anna surely must have heard all the stories of Costa’s escapades
and misadventures. After all, the whole Greek community had heard
of them. As Anna joined the other women, Costa watched all the hugs
and kisses coming and going, each woman hugging and loudly saying,
“Hi, how are you?” while murmuring to herself, “bitch,” a word every
woman used when a prettier one entered the room and the eyes of all
the men glued themselves to her like limpets on a rock.

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He Rode Tall

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…those comments, the meeting blew up. Joel could understand that
all Mr. Johansson was trying to do was help, but if there were two
things you wouldn’t want to be telling Edward Hooper, it would be
suggesting government help and calling his child underprivileged.
There was no doubt that the Hoopers could sure use some help to
finance Joel’s education, but the last thing that was going to happen
in the hills that night was for Edward to admit it to any fancy
dressed school teacher.
Later, the school year came to an end. Joel graduated from high
school, and Mr. Johansson, after once again encouraging Joel to
consider the possibility of going further with his education, left
town for wherever he went every summer. Joel spent the next few
weeks working for his father, riding the high ridges, checking the
cattle, counting cows and calves, and making sure that all was
well in the pasture.
Back then, on July 20, 1969, as seventeen-year-old Joel rode
along, he thought of the hurt that he had experienced at home,
especially during the last few weeks of high school, the brutal treatment
of his mother by his drunken father, and the hard way that his
dad treated him. Back then, the Circle H was not a healthy place for
this seventeen-year-old boy to be; and really, not a healthy place for
anyone, and certainly not a place with a future.
That hot summer day back in July of 1969, Joel found himself
a long way from home at the end of the afternoon. Feeling mighty
hungry and needing to water both himself and his horse, Joel
dropped down out of the hills to the Ladners’ place. Larry Ladner
and his wife Erica were a dirt-poor young couple trying to eek out
a living for themselves and their four children on a small patch of
rented land. Their dream was to one day be able to put a
down-payment on a place of their own, but the way things were
going it looked like it wouldn’t be long before the Ladners would
be forced off of the land. Larry had been coming in from a day of
fieldwork on the tractor when he welcomed Joel. He knew the
Hoopers were good neighbors. As Joel sat with the Ladners and
ate his evening meal, he heard some exciting news on the radio.

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897955

Wellspring of Love

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…friends she made last year – two teenage girls and a younger boy who
lived next door to Pa with their widowed mother. They’d grown very
close over the summer, and Rachael had been excited at the prospect
of seeing them again. What she hadn’t anticipated was that Pa would
marry the widow lady and take on those two girls and boy as his own.
Rachael kicked at a small rock and sent it flying into the ditch. She
wouldn’t even have Lyssa here this summer because her cousin was
leaving in a couple of weeks for Vancouver.
Lyssa had told Aunt Ruby she was going for a holiday to see the West
Coast but would come home in the fall. Rachael didn’t believe her. When
Lyssa got to the big city, she probably wouldn’t ever come home. When
she had learned that Rachael couldn’t go to Ontario, Lyssa had tried to
talk her into going to the Coast with her on the bus. How she would love
to do that, but her parents would never let her go even for a few weeks.
Seemed they didn’t want her to have any fun at all anymore.
Thoughts of Lyssa made Rachael remember the party at the
Harrisons’ tonight. It would be in full swing, and where was she?
Walking alone on a dusty highway on a beautiful evening at the end
of the school year. Oh no, she wouldn’t be allowed to go to Vancouver
– she wasn’t even allowed to go to her cousin’s grad party.
She heard a car approaching from behind but paid little attention
until it slowed and pulled up beside her. She looked up, expecting to
see one of the district farmers or a hired hand on his way to town. But
a thatch of red hair above a freckled face made her stop abruptly and
stare. Kevin. She had not seen him since the disastrous night of the
dance at Spirit Lake.
“Well, hello, sweetheart.” He grinned at her from the open window.
“Fancy meeting you here, and on a Saturday night. How come
you’re not at Lyssa’s party? Or is that where you’re heading? Hop in,
I’ll give you a lift.”
“No thanks, I’m not going. I have too much to do to go to parties.”
She started to walk on.

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https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763327