Okay. Yesterday, I offered my book for FREE through today. Got a message from Roger Lawrence saying otherwise. Thank you, kind sir. Would like to go underground now and heap mounds of dirt upon my head.
So guys, the book is FREE today and tomorrow. FOR REAL this time. APOLOGIES!
***
Also, I’m over at Susan Roebuck’s blog today, talking about my real life ghost story CLICK HERE to read.
Hugs and chocolate, all! Happy Easter and Passover, too!
Shelly
Originally, I had another post planned, but I’m not quite finished preparing it. The week here has been crazy.
I’ve been working feverishly on the second book to Lila’s Journey, Yellow Prada’s. Yesterday, I rewrote the first three chapters. Today, I’ll be hair lopping from 9 to 4.
But I wanted to let you all know Secondhand Shoes is FREE today and tomorrow.
I hope everyone has been having a lovely Passover and to everyone else, a Happy Easter!
Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly
“Mom, I know a secret,” No-No said, pulling me into a social worker’s office. The windows were covered in vertical blinds and files laid neatly in three distinct piles on a desk.
I remember pulling my brows together, “You do?”
“Yeah.” No-No’s already big brown eyes grew wide. “But you have to promise not tell.”
“Okay. I won’t say a word to anyone.”
No-No moved away from the desk. Behind her stood my oldest daughter, Fred, looking malnourished everywhere but her stomach. A pregnant belly extended from her.
Panic ran through me and I woke up. Immediately, I got out of the bed and went to the girls’ room. “I know a secret,” I said.
No-No and Fred sat up in their beds. Both swallowed obvious lumps.
My eyes went straight to Fred. She lowered her head.
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” I said.
No-No kept her sister’s secret for three months.
I’ve had other similar experiences, but can’t say I’m actually psychic. Although…we’ll leave it for the skeptics to decide. I’ll have more stories for you in the future.
But I’d like to share a little bit on Edgar Cayce. The man has always fascinated me. I’ll try not to be long winded.
Anyway, Edgar Cayce was a man who warred with himself over his psychic abilities since he was church goer and became a member of the Disciples of Christ. Believe me, I completely understand his dilemma.
People referred to him as ‘the sleeping prophet’. In fact, there is a book about him titled as such.
While in a self-induced meditative trance, he would give readings. People all over the world would send him letters with their questions. The majority of them were for remedies and healing illnesses.
You can learn more about him by copy and pasting the links below into your browser:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Cayce
***
Yellow Prada’s is still being created. This week I tore it apart and have been rewriting portions. I’ve got a couple new characters, too.
Tilly is one. She sports a rainbow-colored Mohawk and uses the word ‘like’ like a lot. It’s the 80’s, of course. She uses quite a bit of slang when she speaks. She’s total punk, wearing a spiked dog collar and a pair of combat boots.
Hope everyone is great!
Hugs and chocolate everyone!
Shelly
Yesterday, I was interviewed by Lorraine Sears, over at her blog Red Lorry's Journey.
Hope everyone has a great day. I’ll be loppity-lop-lopping at The Salon today and tomorrow. I should have a post ready by Thursday.
Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly
Hey, everyone! Hope you all find your pot gold and plenty of chocolate hugs!
Shelly
I’ll be posting something this Wednesday.
Today is the second Wednesday of the month where e the Indie Life Blog Hop happens. For info GO HERE.
Do you ever worry that other people are looking at your backend? And worried about what they’re thinking, “My God, look at those lopsided butt cheeks on that chick!”
Its not that I think my butt cheeks are uneven, crooked, or lopsided really. Most times I feel like I have the biggest butt in the world. But this post really has nothing to do with butts. Its about how I’m feeling right now. LIKE A TOTAL MORON!
Why? Well…
Right before I published my book Secondhand Shoes, my friend Mike Saxton, author of the Scorpion 7 series, sent me several books to read to get me ready for the process. Well, I read them and thought I understood all the steps. NOT!
One book in particular was full of information filled with lots of fluff and stuff---won’t mention this Indie’s book and will never recommend it either. The cotton candy parts made my eyes glaze over and bored me to tears. The fluff got in the way of me actually understanding what I needed to do. Shelly brains likes things simple like grocery lists and recipes. Go to step A, then to step B type instructions are for me.
Okay. So I get my ISBN number through Create Space. Do all the necessary yada-yada things. Download it to Kindle, but use the same ISBN number. Ut-oh! Yes. Shelly is inclined to many MORON MOMENTS. It’s a special gift of mine, you know. I really should have a blog post just for these times in my life.
Anyway, I’m thinking life is great and all until I get this wonderful book I purchased from Amazon, by L. Diane Wolfe, How to Publish and Promote your Book Now, in the mail.
I’m at about chapter twenty now and its easy-peasy to read. There’s no added fluff. Its full of easy to understand instructions of what you need to do if you’re publishing the traditional route or the Indie one. I highly recommend it.
Okay. Onto the next lopsided butt cheek issue. Yes. There is one more. But I didn’t do it. Promise.
There seems to be a lot of talk about the FREE promotions Amazon lets us do. Looks like they’ll be cutting into future royalties guys. CLICK HERE TO SEE THE CHANGES
So yeah, I’m feeling a little lopsided right about now.
Anyone feeling the same?
Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly
Happy Monday everyone!
Last week, I promised either to tell you a story about some of my experiences or to report on psychics and intuitives. Since I had a crazy week, I’m giving you one of my personal stories.
PLEASE NOTE: Names of people and places have been changed to protect the innocent. Something like that.
“I want you to meet somebody,” Winnie said, pulling me through a crowd of people. She was the leader to Free the People, a group who fought to keep the American Constitution in tact.
“Okay.” I let her weave us through the now applauding crowd. A speaker rambled on in the background about a bill regarding communication and satellites.
My eyes went straight to the back of a tall woman dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans. A tingling sensation ran through me.
Winnie tapped the woman on her shoulder. “Betty?”
The woman’s curtain of red long hair brushed over her shoulder, dropped mid-back, and hung in a perfect line across her white t-shirt. Wide brown eyes peered down at the older woman. “Winnie.” The woman spun to face her and immediately took Winnie’s frail hands into hers.
“This is Shelly Arkon,” Winnie said.
I smiled and nodded, warring with the sensations searing through me. Something was off about this woman.
The red-head let go of Winnie’s hands and extended her right one out to me. “Glad to meet you.”
I let her clammy hand slide into mine.”Likewise.” The tingling sensation had turned into a burning one. The hairs on the back of my neck stood, and my arms broke out into goose pimples.
Winnie’s face brightened. “I want the two of you to head.a special project of mine. The two of you would be perfect for it since I’m getting to old to handle such things.”
“Don’t trust her,” a voice said, loud and clear from some where in my head. The Voice was something I had encountered many times over through the years and wasn’t sure if it wasn’t paranoia.
Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to The Voice. A few years later that same Voice prompted me to do a criminal search on this woman and her hubby. Both had been arrested for child abuse and had lost custody of their children. She suffered from Manchausen Syndrome with Multi-personality Disorder, and her hubby had a record for domestic violence and child molestation.
A whole year after I broke ties with the woman, she stalked me.
In my younger years, I battled with The Voice that would occasionally feed me bits of information for my own good. After years of ignoring it, I now except whatever it has to tell me. So I have more stories to tell.
Anyone ever have a similar experience?
***
Here’s a diddy from Yellow Prada’s:
“Nurses aren’t mean.”
“I know, silly. I mean the other one dressed in yellow.” Sally plopped beside me and handed me her book. “And why are you green?”
“You see green on me, too?” I stared at my hands willing them to show me what the ghosts in my life were seeing.
“Yeah. You look like a slimy green booger.”
***
And too, I’m offering Secondhand Shoes on Kindle for 99 cents until Friday, March 15th. You can click on the link to the left on the screen if interested.
***
Also, Sir Poops and Hair Ball are helping to host a giveaway for Lorelei Bell. CLICK HERE
I’ve read her first two books in this series. Hot vampires, shape shifters, werewolves, and a crazy leprechaun who I absolutely adore. Not to mention, layers and layers of complexities. I do believe you all would love her books, too.
***
Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly
Since the release of my novel, Secondhand Shoes, some have asked me if I’m psychic. I know I posted a few weeks ago about my paternal grandmother. She definitely was. Me? ***shrugs***
If anything, I’m an intuitive empath. I know. Y’ll are going “What in the world is that, Shelly?”
An intuitive empath is some one who feels others’ energies. We feel your pain and your joy. We’re able to read your expressions and body language. But then again, I do work with the public on a daily basis.
When I worked at the law firm, the head attorney picked up on my gift. Before I knew it, he used me in depositions to determine if his client or the other side were lying and why. Funny too, the girls in the office always asked me if he was in a good or a bad mood right before going into his office. For some reason, I knew and was always right.
At the salon, if someone comes in I’ve never seen before, I pick up on their energies right away. If they’re too negative, I run to the bathroom and pray for the girl who ends up with them. Sorry, but its true.
A couple days ago that’s exactly what happened. My coworker was verbally attacked by someone who didn’t even know what she wanted. From what I could see, her hair was beautiful when she walked out of the salon. The woman got her style for free since she made such a stink.
Sadly, I don’t do malls or go to where a lot of people hang out. That is one of the reasons why I hate to go shopping. Too many people breed too much energy. And if its too negative, I get fatigued.
Shelly is a weirdo. I know what y’ll are thinking.
I figure over the next several weeks, I’ll be writing about psychics and intuitives. I’ll even be posting about some of my personal experiences with certain things. Ghosts. Visions. Psychic dreams. All three have touched me or been a part of my life.
Okaaaaaay. Do…do…do…do….ooooo…
And no, I don’t see dead people, but….
***
Yellow Prada’s is at 13,120 words to date. I haven’t worked on it since Friday. Hair loppings do get in the way. Seventeen on Friday afternoon and twenty-four yesterday. Today, I spent some time with a housebound friend. But tomorrow, I’ll be pecking away it.
Here’s a diddy:
Gram walked through the wall a few feet from the end of my hospital bed. She still wore her lavender chiffon coffin dress. The one she was buried in six months ago. “The Almighty sent me a message to get here quick.” She stopped before she made it over to me and stared at my mother, glancing from the top of mom’s head to her shoes. “Lands sakes! Who does she think she is? Jerry Hall, the super model?”
Also, I have the beginning of book three, Combat Boots, written.
Also, its time once again to decide whether or not you want to be a writing Ninja.
You can click onto my side bar for to the left of the screen for more info.
Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly
