Peder B. Helland - Bright Future (Full Album)

Today is a busy "free" day as its filled with medical appointments, errands, and more packing.

So instead of writing, I'm sharing the music of a Norwegian composer, whom I discovered quite randomly, and whose music unlocked my writer's block for this BryonySeries novel.

Enjoy!

Octopus’ Garden (The Beatles) Piano Cover by Sangah Noona

Anyone new to the BryonySeries blog might wonder why I post piano music on Sundays and how that fits into the BryonySeries world.

That's because one character - John Simons - was a nineteenth century world-renowned pianist and composer before he died and became a vampire.

I'm posting this piece today because I'm featuring this BryonySeries book on Facebook, and it just such a fun accompaniment.

Enjoy!

Peder B. Helland - Memories (Official Audio)

Anyone new to the BryonySeries blog might wonder why I post piano music on Sundays and how that fits into the BryonySeries world.

That's because one character - John Simons - was a nineteenth century world-renowned pianist and composer before he died and became a vampire.

Here is another piano piece by Peder B. Helland, whom I "discovered" on January 7, 2022, when a song on YouTube played through to this song. 

I sat on the bed next to my calico Faith and petted her, while the music quite spontaneously locked my year-long writer's block for this BryonySeries novel.

This slightly dark yearning in this piece perfectly echoes some of the scenes in "Call of the Siren," the second book in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy.

Enjoy!

Peder B. Helland - Our Journey

Anyone new to the BryonySeries blog might wonder why I post piano music on Sundays and how that fits into the BryonySeries world.

That's because one character - John Simons - was a nineteenth century world-renowned pianist and composer before he died and became a vampire.

Here is another piano piece by Peder B. Helland, whom I "discovered" on January 7, 2022, when a song on YouTube played through to this song. 

I sat on the bed next to my calico Faith and petted her, while the music quite spontaneously locked my year-long writer's block for this BryonySeries novel.

This is poignant piano piece fits the moods of "Call of the Siren." 

Enjoy!

BryonySeries: Limbo Trilogy

I think vague ideas for the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy started coming into my mind in 2018.

I wanted to explore what happens when a place becomes frozen in time.

But I didn't start jotting thoughts (none saved anyway) until spring 2019.

However, I realized as I wrote the three books in the Limbo trilogy ("The Phoenix," "Call of the Siren," and "House on Top of the Hill") that the value of this series was more than a fun exploration of the activity in a seemingly stalled and stagnant locale.

The Limbo series actually connects the ends of the original "drop of blood" young adult vampire trilogy and its prequel (the five-installment "Before The Blood"), filling in the blanks, answering (and raising) questions, and creating a seamless story loop without any real beginning or end.

As I wrote at the end of my second writing retreat in 2024:

Now, I could be wrong about “House on Top of the Hill” being the last novel. But at age sixty-three, I want to be sure I finish these other BryonySeries books, while I’m still able to finish them. So I'm definitely not bidding creative writing good-bye. I have plenty of book projects to last me a long time.

Also, for anyone who has read the BryonySeries, this "House on Top of the Hill" brings the series to a nice full circle. 

You see, if one starts with the drop of blood trilogy (“Bryony,” “Visage,” and “Staked!”),  the five installments of “Before The Blood” becomes a terrific prequel to the series. Limbo then fills in the time period between “drop” and BTB, the eighty years when nothing seemingly happens.

Or if one reads the books in chronological order – beginning with “Before The Blood,” and then moving onto to Limbo and then “drop of blood,” the novel “Staked!” gives a nice finish to the series. 

And if you start with Limbo, you can read BTB and “drop” to see what happened before and what happens after, which also works quite logically, especially since "drop" seamlessly follows "House on Top of the Hill."

Now, I don’t want to forget HOW to write a novel. And who knows? I might have another lurking in my brain somewhere, just waiting for the right time to show itself.

Or perhaps I’ll co-write a novel or helps other authors polish theirs. But from my viewpoint on this Monday morning, “House on Top of the Hill” is likely my last novel.

Of course, I did say that after “Before The Blood,” too. 

And if we want to travel down that path, I really only intended to write one novel, “Bryony.” But the story was too big for one book. 

Fine, I thought. I’ll write a sequel. But the story was too big for THAT book, too.

Fine. A trilogy then. Except now I had all this background backstory and my little band of fans for “drop of blood” wanted to read the series back story, which turned into an eight-year project for the five installments.

So there you have it. A series that overtook itself much like the poisonous bryony took over Simons Mansion, the Simons estate, and worked its way into the woods (which wasn’t Simons Woods after all, as you shall see in "House on Top of the Hill").

And with that, here is a summary of the trilogy, along with the back cover copy of all three books.

Limbo

Its tagline reads: "What happens when time stops in a fishing village in Northern Michigan? The supernatural reigns."

This BryonySeries trilogy - in three separate and very unique novels - explore the time period of the very late nineteenth century through nineteen seventy-five, when all progress appears to stop in Munsonville, Michigan, giving the illusion that time has also stopped.

The first novel spans a few short months. The second two span approximately forty years each. 

The third has an unusual structure: each chapter is (almost) a separate short story that (most of the time) moves the greater story forward. You would have to read it to know what I mean.

The Phoenix

Late 1895 in Munsonville, Michigan is all about survival and rebuilding: for the fishing village still reeling from deadly tragedies, for twelve-year-old Marie Clare who is grounded at Munsonville Inn with her dying father, and for two newly turned vampires foraging their meals from a dwindling supply of villagers. 

But to rise strong and unscathed, some will be sacrificed along the way. Who gets to live and thrive? And who decides?

Call of the Siren

Sue Bass is haunted by dreams of her father, who died in a boating accident before she was born, alluring dreams of water and song. But then a soft-spoken outside man with an inside plan comes to town, and Sue's sleepwalking fades, only to resurface with greater magnetism when he leaves. 

Two voices beckon. Which one will she heed?

House on Top of the Hill

Change comes slowly to Munsonville, and for Steve Barnes, who spends his entire life in the village, that's just fine. From boyhood to manhood, he savors the slow pace and friendly smiles, even while working by his parents' side from sunup to sundown to run the family diner.

The only blight is this fishing village's preoccupation with an empty mansion in the woods, whose tales of former glory and catastrophe fueled a rampage of ghost stories. Steve doesn't believe them, but some do – and no one can deny the power the crumbling old building holds over them.

Especially when it changes everyone, including Steve, forever.

26 Relaxing Piano Pieces by Peder B. Helland (4K)

First Review for "Call of the Siren"

My BryonySeries super fan strikes again!

 Once again, she has left a phenomenal review on Amazon, this time for my latest novel, the second in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy: Call of the Siren.

 I've posted it below. But you may also read it here.

And for a few quotes/excerpts, see this post.

 But first, enjoy a few "bonus" comments from her that you won't find on Amazon:

"You're masterful at blending magic/horror and reality into one package."

 "This was strictly human level pain. There were no riches. There was no perceived savior or a rush to fame and fortune. Illusions were ripped away. It was so starkly and darkly human."

 "The beauty of this story is Sue is everyone's ancestor - someone who struggled - REALLY struggled - to fit in and to make a place for herself in a very cruel world. Yes, the magic is most certainly there, but it's that double-edged magic - the real thing. Bloody and ugly and vengeful."

 "It is the reality of Sue that makes the book beautiful. Even the true "fey" could never figure her out."

 And, finally, lest I sit back and rejoice TOO much, she added this: "Don't rest on your laurels, Missy. Waiting for the next fix."

 Yeah, yeah.

 But even the last comment is very BryonySeries. "Missy" was John-Peter's nickname for Karla.

 Thank you for reading this far. Here, now, is the review:

 

 "Call of the Siren" is an irresistible and terrifying novel

After I finished reading "Call of the Siren" it occurred to me that the story has so many elements of a fairy tale. There's Sue, an enchanted child, whose birth is shrouded in mystery. A vague and dangerous melody only she can hear, plays through her mind day and night. For most of her childhood, Sue appears to be in a state of fugue - sleep walking through her life as if she's waiting for something to happen

Sue's mother, Sally, is a hardworking soul - providing everything her daughter needs through her arduous work as a cook at Munsonville Inn. Though Sally provides food and shelter, there appears to be a disconnect between mother and daughter. It's as if they're two strangers forced to live together. You don't get the idea that Sue's life is filled with hugs and comfort.

Lacking a sitter, Sally brings young Sue to work with her each day, where supporting characters show more interest and love than her own mother. When Sue begins wandering to Lake Munsonville at night, Sally is alarmed. The lake is a tragic place where she lost her husband. Before Sue was born, a freak storm killed most the men fishing on Lake Munsonville. The fact that Sue is drawn to the haunted body of water terrifies Sally.

Sally, who is all about fulfilling her obligations, locks Sue in the bedroom at night while she sleeps on a couch outside the girl's room. And though Sally worries there's a strange spell on her daughter, both she and Sue accept the song and its dangers stoically.

Think of princesses before they achieve "happily after after." Sue is the very image of Cinderella, with her years of drudgery and and loneliness in the face of the unfairness of her life. Like the princesses in fairy tales, Sue is passive and submissive. Life is something that happens to her and she allows it. She's appears incapable of fighting back.

The author painfully brings home the tedium of Sue's life - the unending routine of rising at dawn, trudging through the elements to get to a job of drudgery in a kitchen of the local inn. These routines continue throughout Sue's life, with the occasional burst of excitement. Yet, if Sue minds the monotony it seldom shows.

Bursts of poignant poetry dot the book. The verses bring a sense of high emotion that clashes with the harsh reality, making their existence that much more painful.

As she grows, the song in Sue's hears in her head isolates her from her peers. She's a freak whose malady attracts the creepy denizens of the town's underworld (quite a lot of fun for the reader). The authors villains are truly the bottom of the barrel when it comes to evildoing.

Though "Sirens" is a standalone tale, reading the author's other serial books, or at least "Bryony Marseilles" will shed light on a few of the fascinating characters like Dr. Martin Parks, Dr. Gothart - and indeed, the possible origins of Sue's song. Well worth the effort, and more than likely you'll find yourself hooked on Bryony, with your winter reads all lined up.

Halfway through the book, it's clear that Sue is unlikely to ride off into the sunset with a handsome prince. After all, Sue lives in Munsonville, Michigan. Like Stephen King's Derry, Maine, Munsonville is not a "happily ever after" type of burg. Munsonville is the heart of the author's terrifying Bryony series and happiness is rare.

Though she never meets a prince, Sue does fall in love. When she comes of age, Sue takes on odd jobs in the kitchen where her mother works. It's where she first lays eyes on a man named Sam. Now, most folks would take a look at Sam and label him a scheister. That isn't really fair, but neither is life.

But,to Sue, he's the sun and the moon and the stars. The sparkle in his eyes and crooked smile reduce the song to a mere whisper. When she's near Sam the song becomes a mere whisper. Unfortunately, before she can declare her undying love (slipping forever out of passive mode), Sam calls her crazy and disappears.

After Sally's death - and the earth-shattering admission that she is not Sue's birth mother - Sue finds herself lost. Luther, a reporter for the local paper takes over in assuring Sue does not sleep walk. Each night, he carefully locks her in. Each day, she questions who she really is. Predictably, she and Luther become lovers, though her heart belongs to Sam. Still, Luther's not a bad catch, and the reader anticipates a "happily ever after, or perhaps "happily for the time being."

GOTCHA!

Do NOT - repeat: DO NOT - attempt to outfox the author. Denise Baran-Unland's complex prose - her twists and turns and dead ends - will make a fool of you every time.

"Call of the Siren" is Unland's most complex composition to date. It's not an easy read. It is well worth reading, but it will take a bit of discipline. Again, reading a few of the other books in the series will help to a great extent. However, unlike the other books in the series, this one hits where it hurts. The siren song and creepy characters aside, most of us suffer the pains of tedium, rejection and loneliness, and this book brings that home in a very painful way. As adults, we know vampires and monsters are remote possibilities at best. Living with ourselves and our frailties and fears is far more frightening.

In fact, it's painful. Most of us have been Sue. We've faced rejection and confusion. We lose sight of who we really are. We feel a sense of helplessness in dealing with life. When we finally claim our prize, it slips away, leaving us depressed and alone.

"Call of the Siren" is powerful in that it invokes the deep seated fear of abandonment and rejection that lurks in our subconscious no matter how confident we appear. As a horror novel, it's unlike the other books in the Bryony series, but it is every bit as terrifying.

32 Quotes from "Call of the Siren"

When we were getting ready to release Bryony back in 2011, my daughter Sarah (who did a lot of the marketing for me) suggested I pull thirty teaser quotes from the book that she could post on Facebook, one each day.

We did the same for the second book, Visage, which is also part of the BryonySeries.

But for some reason, I never did the same for another book.

So now I am catching up.

Here is the synopsis and chapter headings for Call of the Siren, (the second book in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy), followed by thirty-two quotes, one from each chapter.

Enjoy!

Sue Bass is haunted by dreams of her father, who died in a boating accident before she was born, alluring dreams of water and song. But then a soft-spoken outside man with an inside plan comes to town, and Sue's sleepwalking fades, only to resurface with greater magnetism when he leaves. 

Two voices beckon. Which one will she heed?

Prologue: 

Every fiber urged – now!

But she waited. She waited for the crescendo, and when it came, she jumped, just as his arms tightened around her.

And the melody swallowed them up, silencing its strains forever.

PART ONE: WATER

Chapter 1: Lullaby

In the beginning the world was without form and surrounded by darkness. But it stretched and pulled and took shape in the void and filled with warm water; and whooshing and pulsing appeared, and she rolled in the waters and the waters ran into her and out of her; and voices, high and deep, hovered over the gurgles and -lo! – a soft red glow. 

Chapter 2: Music or Madness. 

A touch on her arm.

A gentle, “Hey.”

Sue turned to touch and voice.

            

And found The Sandman crouching in front of her.

 Chapter 3: Town Mouse

Ma scowled and ground white cheese against silvery metal teeth. “’The hand that rocks the cradle!’ The hand that rocks the cradle!’ She whirled around and waved the grater, splatting cheese across the floor. “Look at your hands, Linda. Look at mine. You’ve rocked cradles. I’ve rocked Sue’s. I’ve worked. You’ve worked. But now we’re working as heads of our households.” She pointed to the door. “Look around this village. Why, the women now out-number the men three to one – or four to one - or more. I don’t see any man steppin’ up to fix it!”

Chapter 4: Country Mouse

Maudie’s disappearance, for Sue, crystallized why she loathed living at Fisher Farm, and why the very thought of staying forever filled her with unease. A resigned sadness hung in the farmhouse, and an undercurrent of quiet despair pervaded the landscape. Sue sensed it that day Ma had abandoned Sue at the farm. Sue couldn’t define it at the time; she only felt it. But the longer Sue stayed at Fisher Farm, the more she soaked up their misery, the way Uncle James, Auntie Maybelle, and, yes, even Mrs. Helsby had soaked it up and became part of the bleakness. Maybe that’s why Marigold “got with” the ‘hand. Maybe that’s why Maudie ran away – to escape the drab, gray hell of hopelessness.

Chapter 5: Water, Butter, and Wine

When Sue finally pulled herself up to the shore of endless high grasses and tall flowers of lemon yellow, chili red, and periwinkle waving in the breeze, she found a great heap of these naked fishermen, their skin shriveled on their bones, their sightless eyes gazing up at the moon, and the moon was a bloated blue head without a body, and the moon grinned back with inky lips

Chapter 6: Little Girl Lost

She loved Ailbe’s preaching. He spoke each word with a vitalizing conviction. It wasn’t that Pastor Demars didn’t believe his words or that Ailbe believed them more. But Ailbe preached from deep waters. The words flowed from him as naturally as water flowed from one part of the lake to another, because they were part of him. He didn’t prepare to preach. He simply preached. Ailbe was a walking, talking, living embodiment of faith – even as Ma walked, talked, and lived less. 

Chapter 7: The Lure of Their Eyes

But it wasn’t the uselessness of hypnotism that lay at the core of Sue’s refusal. She was afraid of what the hypnotism might uncover.

What if it pulled up impressions of him she’d wedged in her mind and sank into her heart. Like his crooked smile that always turned her belly to jelly. She loved him too much, missed him too much. His rejection hurt too much.

What if they pulled up him?

PART TWO: FIRE

Chapter 8: Flames and Frost

The only reason why he didn’t trust her further was not to dirty her with the dirtiest parts of his life. The fact she might understand and accept those dirty parts played a role. He was dirty enough. And if she were dirty, he’d rather not know.

If she were dirty, she could not restore him.

Chapter 9: Even The Sparrow

But it was number three Sue had to serve, the smoker, and her heart dove when she saw him: lean, too lean, with a long thin face and a thick scar down his left cheek, auburn hair, hazel eyes, a crooked smile that turned her belly to jelly, and a confident and mocking demeanor. He wasn’t handsome, but that didn’t matter to Sue. As she drew closer on shaking legs, his voice rang out, “I had to seal the deal!” At the sound of his voice, the singing became very, very, very faint and nearly vanished as she set the plate in front of him, her hands trembling hard.

“Hey, Sam, she’s sweet on you!”

Chapter 10: Bewitched By Her Sweetness

And so, when the time seemed ripe, he invited her to dinner at Dr. Gothart’s house with a meal prepared by Dr. Gothart himself, for Dr. Gothart could never have survived as long as he had without knowing a culinary skill or two. She didn’t cringe at Dr. Gothart’s dark, narrow dining room, with its heavy wooden walls of cabinets and closets and recesses, lit only by the candles jammed in the cracks. She didn’t cringe at his lively recounting of the Ottoman-Hungarian wars, for which the conversation always turned when Dr. Gothart imbibed enough Bikavér. She didn’t cringe at the fire in Dr. Gothart’s eyes, the heat in his speech, and the maniacal way he licked his lips when he described in vivid detail the spilling of the Ottoman blood. She merely listened, rapt, over her wine glass, eyes of cool steam.

Chapter 11: House Calls

They discussed their findings with Dr. Gothart after dinner when he joined them in the parlor for brandy and conversation. Neta set aside her weaving and opened her notes, which attracted the interest of the cats, staring white cats, that gathered around her, perched over her, and hung by a paw or a tail from the chandeliers. A hint of copper tinged the air, copper, raw meat, and a very fine tobacco, for Dr. Gothart sat by the fire with his brandy and smoked with placid steadiness.

Chapter 12: Coin for the Passage

The west window next to the back door was propped open to allow the death stink out and coax fresh air in. The curtains wafted with the cool May breeze but, to Sue’s tired mind, they moved with the clamoring of the shades from the other side, urgently steering another soul into their midst.

Chapter 13: Plaintive Cries

Neta didn’t meet him at the door. Neta didn’t even have dinner ready. Where the fuck was she? No matter, he could find his own drink.

But he couldn’t. Every bottle of every spirit in every room of the house – gone. Fine. Fuck her.

He dropped to the carpet, opened his bag, and groped for the morphine.

Chapter 14: As Sharp as Spears

Sue burst into tears. Ghost Girl took Sue by the hand and helped her into the carriage, and then – they were clip-clopping away into the enchanted stay-away land of densely packed trees and their secrets, of sturdy trunks and leafy boughs, of spindly branches and snapping twigs, of musky, greenly scents and scampering mammals, of filtering lights and lacy shadows, of rustles, of whispers, of a hidden house where nothing dwelled except sadness and memories…

Ghost Girl smiled down at her.

The singing sang on…

Chapter 15: A Meadow Filled with Skeletons

Dr. Gothart. Where the fuck was he?

“What the fuck, Neta?” he’d asked when he’d stumbled back up from the basement.

Neta shrugged.

“Is he coming back?"

"I don’t think so.”

“The bastard. The dirty, fucking bastard.”

Every item, every documentation, in the subterranean laboratory was there and in its proper place, everything except Dr. Gothart. Had someone finally caught up to him, so he fled? And left Martin holding the bag? Well, like daughter, like father.

“Martin, hadn’t you ever wanted to up and disappear – forsake everything?”

“Yes,” Martin said. “Many times.”

He sighed a deeply troubled sigh and glanced at Neta, wondering if she sensed his turmoil. But, no, she serenely passed the weft thread over and under the warp threads with measured precision. 

PART THREE: AIR

Chapter 16: Gates of Horn and Ivory

Sue picked up the book, settled into a chair, drawing her legs up and under, and gazed out the window into the everlasting woods, sipping, thinking, watching the scene turn misty and gray, and riffling through the pages until Sue found the passage that always made her think of Sam, that always made her dream he would return and speak these words to her.

Chapter 17 Ask, and It Shall be Given You

She didn’t speak as the water heated, nor did Luther. She stood at the stove, back to him, and listened to the faint rumbling of the water as it went from cold to hot, her gaze falling from time to time at the dried golden buds peeking through the tea egg in the bottom of each chipped white cup. When the lid rattled, Sue poured the steaming water, releasing a whiff of apples and meadows, picked the cups up by their handles, and turned around. Luther sat at Pa’s table, picking a cuticle. 

Chapter 18: Seek, and Ye Shall Find 

Abruptly, he wiped his mouth and turned to her, and as his brown eyes met hers, Sue recalled the first night she saw into them, when she thought Luther was The Sandman. And she almost forgot now wasn’t then; she almost reached out to finger his sandpapery cheek. 

Chapter 19: Knock, and it Shall Be Opened Unto You

It’s not like Sue never saw a tree.

It’s not like Sue never saw a field.

It’s not like Sue never saw a road or a sky so blue or wide as it stretched across the expanse and sloped low to encase it.

But to behold a tree, a field, a road, the sky in a space so foreverly open and eternally free as Sue flew past them, and into them, and on and on and on – this was a quieting thrill that defied words; she doubted even Wheeler could find the right ones. Sue passed miles of land patched green with life and brown for the lack of it. She caught glimpses of stalks, low and tall, and whiffs of wild posies, and blurs of quick color, and an occasional rebel sapling, proudly standing where no other sapling dared to sink its roots, spreading its branches out and up as if to say, “Look at me! I’m a tree!” 

Chapter 20: The Stain No Storm Could Wash Away 

Their artist was the girl in the back corner, a slender young woman, no older than Sue, perhaps less, dressed in a shapeless white dress, really just a piece of cloth with a hole for her neck and a length of tattered rope tied around her waist, huddled on a small stool in the corner. She wore a white blindfold, and her very long, very fine blonde hair fell across her face as she bent over a large piece of embroidery, nimbly moving the needle in and out.

Chapter 21: A Stone and a Serpent

They sat on the weathered bench outside the little whitewashed chapel, scarcely bigger than outhouse, and shared crullers and coffee from the Ruisch Family Bakery with the motor robe from draped over their shoulders, all the while watching the sun rise from its cloudy horizon bed and stretch its warmth across the brisk new day.

“Cold?” Luther asked, reaching across Sue to pull the blanket tighter.

Sue shook her head.

But she had never felt such peace.

Chapter 22: Treading Water

Sue’s door was still open. But Sue’s home wasn’t empty. Briana and Fiona were there, with hot tea and blankets warmed by a ready fire, ready to blow warmth into her. So Sue sat naked in warmed blankets and sipped hot tea; and Caitlin shed her wet garments and sat naked in warmed blankets, also sipping hot tea; and Briana and Fiona sat near them, sipping hot tea and warming them with their care. They talked about nonsense; they talked about things that mattered. The light caught the rose tint of the flaxen hair on all three ministering spirits and lit their cherubic faces with a heavenly glow.

Chapter 23: Last Dream of my Soul

“You’re hiding,” she accused him. “You’re hiding from something.

“Maybe I am,” Sam agreed. “The world out there isn’t…nice."

“And I’m too crazy.”.

Sam looked out to the lake and took another drag.

PART FOUR: EARTH

Chapter 24: On Solid Ground

An advantage to living in Munsonville is no one questioned anything.

Chapter 25: Ideal – and Worthy of Envy

“You should have told me!”

Sam pulled back and stuffed himself away, asking, “Would you have married me?” as casually as Sue might ask a customer if he wanted more bread with his soup.

“I don’t know!”

“So maybe no??

“Maybe.”

“Well, I couldn’t take that chance. I had to seal the deal.”

“Seal the deal? Seal the deal? What am I, one of your shady transactions?”

“No!"

“Well, you’re going to be out of a deal, buddy. I have grounds for an annulment. Fraud and inability to consummate the marriage. Wait and see. You can go fend for yourself.”

“You can’t get an annulment!”

“Yes, I can!”

“No, you  can’t. We’re not legally married. Hence, you can’t legally separate. We’re stuck with each other until death do us part.”

Chapter 26: Sue’s Diner

“So Alex Drake suggested we add an upstairs apartment to Sue’s Diner,” Sam said and then added with a crooked grin, “The vote was unanimous.”

“We’re not calling the diner Sue’s Diner. And we’re not becoming landlords, too.

“We are. I’ve already ordered the sign.”

“And we’re not becoming landlords.”

Chapter 27: In Dark Depths Lurking

Sue struggled to keep up with the orders, for, as Sue had predicted, Sam and his one good hand were little use in the kitchen. But he was outstanding at fraternizing with the customers and touting the food. Often when Sue swerved to see if the onions were sauteed, the sauce stirred, and the noodles boiled – small, but important tasks she relied on Sam to do – she only found an empty space where her husband once stood, along with charred onions, curdled milk, and mushy, nearly liquid, macaroni. Fuming, Sue would peek around the corner to find Sam hobbling about the dining room, greeting one and all as if he were Lord Barnes of Sue’s Diner. Or, even worse, she’d see him perched on a counter stool with yet another cigarette and another cup of coffee, regaling his seatmate with another bad joke. 

Chapter 28: The Abyss Beckons

“Sue’s Diner, eh?” Dr. Rothgard had asked the next time Sue met with him to explain Sam’s treat and inquire about Sam’s line of work. “I’ve heard about its wonderful food. I should stop in. It will give me a good reason to go back to Munsonville.”

“You’ve been to Munsonville?”

“Many times. My parents were friends with John Simons and frequent visitors to Simons Mansion when Bryony was alive.” He smiled, and his green eyes behind the dark-rimmed glassed glowed like a cat’s at night. “I know every inch of that mansion, that village.”

“Really? Then tell me this: why has John Simons never returned to his home?”

“But he does. All the time.”

“Well – then why hasn’t anyone seen him? Tell me that.”

“Maybe he doesn’t wish to be seen.”

“But…”

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Enjoy your visit with Sam. I’ll be in touch.”

Chapter 29: : No Breath of Wind, No Ripple of Water

They had scarcely moved past the diner, and hadn’t quite reached the first cabin, when Sue impulsively stopped short, so Sam did, too.

“Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me."

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

Sam leaned down, and gently touched his lips to hers. But as he straightened, Sue pressed his hands onto her cheeks and held him in place. His hazel eyes questioned, wondered. But then he closed them, leaned harder on the cane, cupped the back of her head, and kissed her with “thrilling, soulful ecstasy,” while the waves lapped behind them, and the night wind whispered past them, and the moon shone golden high above them. 

Chapter 30: Ferry and Scythe

The cataracts crashed through her; water rushed into her mouth; and she sank, sank, sank below the turbulence; she floated through magenta and navy blue flowers with flaming red petals, and golden glittering fruit, and wavy green leaves and soft purple shadows…

Epilogue

A piercing cry rent the air, followed by staccato bursts: shrill, vociferous, and earsplitting. 

John Lennon number 9 dream

Now Available: "Call of the Siren"

Never has any book, or any piece of writing, for that matter, given me so much trouble than Call of the Siren, the second book in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy.

I struggled to write every word in this "quiet" book that spans forty years, and even KDP glitched on its part at the very end, to the extent that the representative helping us on the other end on Friday night told us to delete the file and start over.

We did - and the book was live at 4 a.m. Saturday.

Why did Call of the Siren give me so much trouble?

I think it's because the story has a subtle "music" to it, so much that I struggled to convey by using the accepted "show, don't tell" or the balance of "show and tell" ways of telling the story.

For Call of the Siren, I had to find a new way to create the story the way I wanted the story told. That took time (and a bit of bravery) as I stepped into uncharted waters.

and made some subtle, but significant, changes in terms of plot at this retreat.

But the proof was in the, well, proof. The story read as I wanted it to read, and I was thrilled.

Warning: I probably didn't find and weed out all the typos. But please know I tried really hard to eliminate every single one.

And, thus, we release Call of the Siren for you today, for your enjoyment.

Isn't the cover art by Nancy Calkins (wife of Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara), beautiful? She had the painting ready and delivered to me before I had written one complete chapter. She has waited a long time to read this book. Rebekah did all the formatting for the book and cover.

Here is the back cover synopsis for Call of the Siren:

Sue Bass is haunted by dreams of her father, who died in a boating accident before she was born, alluring dreams of water and song. But then a soft-spoken outside man with an inside plan comes to town, and Sue's sleepwalking fades, only to resurface with greater magnetism when he leaves.

Two voices beckon. Which one will she heed?

Now, Call of the Siren isn't available on the BryonySeries store yet.

Nor is it available on Kindle yet.

But you may purchase the paperback on Amazon.

Happy reading!

Final Update for "Call of the Siren"

I had planned to finish the final copy edits for Call of the Siren, the second book in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy and a book that, quite frankly, has given me more trouble than any other novel, except for the first one, when I had no idea what I was doing.

So while I didn't finish the all of the copy edits, I did finish three-fourths of them, and I am fairly confident (from a Tuesday point of view), that I can finish them this weekend in the evenings, since I am working through the weekend again.

On the plus side, I learned a lot about writing when writing this novel. But the main thing I learned is that "voice" is more than the author's voice or the individual characters' voices. The story, the novel, can have its own voice, and that was my struggle with this book, although I didn't realize it at first.

However, realizing that the book had its unique voice didn't solve the problem. I had to first turn that volume up in my mind a bit, so I could hear that voice more clearly, even though that voice had been there all along.

Then I had to learn how to move that voice from my mind to the page, and that was really biggest struggle of all. That never happened until the end of 2021, after I had nine months invested in the book.

Even then, moving that "whole book" voice into a novel that also had the individual voices of characters, etc, wasn't a simple task.

While doing this, I also learned that, sometimes, telling is better than showing for translating that voice; that too much show drowns out the voice. Don't worry; the book is not one long narrative. But it also doesn't (completely) follow a typical structure.

But the efforts, I think, were worth it.

While reading through the proof copy a couple of weeks ago, I was amazed that I had actually accomplished it, that the story I wanted to tell in the way I wanted to tell it was actually told.

Keep in mind the book has no high commercial value. It's not genre fiction, and I'm publishing it myself. So when I say "final copy edits," keep in my mind you will find stray typos here and there. That's why, from time to time, I re-read my books, in order to pluck as many of those pesky errors as possible. So there really is no such thing as "final copy edits."

Furthermore, I know of only four people who will buy it immediately upon its release, three of whom who will greedily devoour the book when it arrives.

But even those three are worthy of my best storytelling efforts. 

And soon, they will enjoy them.

Below is the back cover copy, a quote from Homer, chapter titles, and the prologue.

Sue Bass is haunted by dreams of her father, who died in a boating accident before she was born, alluring dreams of water and song. But then a soft-spoken outside man with an inside plan comes to town, and Sue's sleepwalking fades, only to resurface with greater magnetism when he leaves.

Two voices beckon. Which one will she heed?

"If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never welcome him home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to death with the sweetness of their song." The Odyssey By Homer

PART ONE: WATER

Chapter 1: Lullaby

Chapter 2: Music or Madness.

Chapter 3: Town Mouse:

Chapter 4: Country Mouse:

Chapter 5: Water, Butter, and Wine:

Chapter 6: Little Girl Lost

Chapter 7: Lure of Their Eyes:

PART TWO: FIRE

Chapter 8: Flames and Frost

Chapter 9: Even The Sparrow

Chapter 10: Bewitched By Her Sweetness:

Chapter 11: House Calls

Chapter 12: Coin for the Passage

Chapter 13: Plaintive Cries:

Chapter 14: As Sharp as Spears

Chapter 15: A Meadow Filled with Skeletons:

PART THREE: AIR

Chapter 16: Gates of Horn and Ivory

Chapter 17 Ask, and It Shall be Given You:

Chapter 18: Seek, and Ye Shall Find

Chapter 19: Knock, and it Shall Be Opened Unto You

Chapter 20: The Stain No Storm Could Wash Away

Chapter 21: A Stone and a Serpent

Chapter 22: Treading Water

Chapter 23: Last Dream of my Soul

PART FOUR: EARTH

Chapter 24: On Solid Ground

Chapter 25: Ideal – and Worthy of Envy

Chapter 26: Sue’s Diner

Chapter 27: In Dark Depths Lurking

Chapter 28: The Abyss Beckons

Chapter 29: : No Breath of Wind, No Ripple of Water

Chapter 30: Ferry and Scythe

Epilogue

THE PROLOGUE

 

 

She stood at the edge in bare feet with her toes gripping the rough edge of the dock – and looked down at her friends.

The night wind whispered across her face, her legs, and the hem of her nightgown, and raised the hair on her arms. She shivered and hugged herself with cold hands as the chorus rose and swelled.

They looked back.

Silent and bloated blue under the rippling waters, they gazed at her with purpled eyes and grinned with full inky lips.

She raised her hands and bent; the gentle sloshing…

Creak.

She paused.

Creak, again.

Not the heavy creak of work boots, but the light creak of an old man’s stockinged feet, a creak of stealth, of hurry.

Creak. Creak. Creak.

Every fiber urged – now!

But she waited. She waited for the crescendo, and when it came, she jumped, just as his arms tightened around her, and the chain snapped.

And the melody swallowed them up, silencing its strains forever.

 

Call of the Siren: The Hardest Part is Behind Me

I spent an intense day last Saturday finishing up the hard edits for Call of the Siren, the second book in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy.

I now have to work very hard on some of the new characters in this book, for many of them will appear in the third book of the Limbo trilogy: House on Top of the Hill. But good character development now will save me much time and regrets later. 

And with one of my sons currently battling COVID (which, means, of course, we all might eventually get sick again, too), Orthodox Easter next Sunday, working the following weekend, and then Mother's Day after that - well, I can't envision finishing this last major part of the novel until Memorial Day weekend.

True, I'll be working on these characters in fits and starts. But pieces of time isn't the same as a stretch of hours for focused work. Concentrations gets broken and then I lose more time in the reconnection. 

So I think Memorial Day is realistic, both for putting the finishing developments on these new characters and reading through the novel. 

At that point, I will give novel a good read and then send to my editor. Then comes cover design, formatting, reading through the proof, and tweaks.

This puts an estimated publication date in July, perhaps in time for my birthday.

I'm not sure why this book challenged me so much. I think some of the struggle was about "voice." 

The book itself had a voice that, much like my main character, I could "hear" but found really difficult to translate into words. Parts of it had an elusive, lyrical quality that I finally captured.

And then speaking of the main character, I cover forty years of her life. So although her voice changes, it still sounds like her.

But as I re-read through the chapters, I'm satisifed that I churned out the story I wanted to tell..

By the way, isn't the cover art gorgeous? Nancy Calkins, wife of Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara, created it for the book - last year. But she works much faster than I do.

Sue Bass is haunted by dreams of her father, who died in a boating accident before she was born, alluring dreams of water and song. But then a soft-spoken outside man with an inside plan comes to town, and Sue's sleepwalking stops, only to resurface with greater magnetism when he leaves.

Two voices beckon. Which one will she heed?

Bits and Pieces

It's been a topsy turvy couple of weeks with all sorts of things going sideways (weekend shift, out-of-town family in town, illness, life and death-type emergencies: you know, the "life" stuff we all have).

So here's a quick recap of things happening in the BryonySeries world. The above statement explains why we're delayed.

1) Sue's Diner: Yes, I know we haven't posted a new recipe in two weeks. And we do have one to post. I have the photo. Rebekah has the recipe. The two just need to meet. Maybe tomorrow, even. But the old one is still up, if you haven't checked it out yet.

2) Updated calendar of activities: That's on my list for next weekend. In the meantime, all the old activities are still up (ignore the banner; that's Timothy being efficient).

3) New Cornell Dyer books: We have two ready to go. Rebekah doesn't the final production and she's been swamped. And Timothy has a third idea ready. He and I just need our schedules to sync up to work on it. In the meantime, you still have plenty of titles to read.

4) Call of the Siren: This is the second book in the BryonySeries Limbo trilogy. All of it, I'm happy to say, is written and fairly edited. However, it needs quite a bit of work on some of the minor characters and some nuanced editing that I've (sort of) invented, a first for me. Still, I'm happy with the progress as this book challenged me quite a bit.

5) In-Person Events: We've discussed doing more of these this year.

And that's it! I hope each and every one of you reading this is having a fantastic start to your day. :)

Two Chapters Left: "Call of the Siren"

Two chapters.

That's all I have left in a novel that's given me a great deal of trouble.since I began it in earnest a year ago.

In fact, my muse never really sprang into action around the Christmas holidays. And even then, I've struggled, although the struggle was less, and the progress was real.

This novel isalled Call of the Siren and it's the second book in the Limbo trilogy. (The first is The Phoenix, and you can find a copy of it here).

Everything in bold at the bottom of this blog is nearly ready to go, self-editing-wise.

Everything in italics shows where work is still required.

But when the editing is done, I have a couple more passes over the text to make.

One is a granular pass to ensure the new characters are properly developed.

And then I need to make a "feng shui" pass over the entire book, which is a new type of editing for me. In fact, I might have invented this type of editing. Maybe it's worth its own post.

My original goal is to have the book ready for formatting by early April. That's an unrealistic goal at this point. But late May or early June feels very possible.

Cover art is by Nancy Calkins, wife of Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara.

I'm certain this novel has close to zero value, commercial-wise.

But it's the novel I intended to write. And it's a satisfying feeling, for me, to have a vision of a story I want to write, and then write the story in my mind.

Stories can be elusive beings, clear in our imagination but defiant of precise words. But that isn't so strange when you consider all the many strands that make a story: the characters, the plots, the arcs, the settings, the moods, and so forth - and then when you consider all the strangs that make each character, each plot, each arc, each setting, each mood, and so forth some more.

It's nothing short of amazing that writers can take these threads and weave them into something coherent, much less magical.

Amazing, indeed.

CALL OF THE SIREN

Sue Bass is haunted by dreams of her father, who died in a boating accident before she was born, alluring dreams of water and song. But then a soft-spoken outside man with an inside plan comes to town, and Sue's sleepwalking stops, only to resurface with greater magnetism when he leaves.

Two voices beckon. Which one will she heed?

Prologue:

PART ONE: WATER

Chapter 1: Lullaby

Chapter 2: Music or Madness

Chapter 3: Town Mouse

Chapter 4: Country Mouse, Monday Sept. 13, afternoon (spot places to fill in)

Chapter 5: Water, Butter, and Wine

Chapter 6: Little Girl Lost

Chapter 7: The Lure of Their Eyes

PART TWO: FIRE

Chapter 8: Flames and Frost

Chapter 9: Even The Sparrow 

Chapter 10: Bewitched By Her Sweetness

Chapter 11: House Calls, Saturday 

Chapter 12: Coin for the Passage

Chapter 13: Plaintive Cries 

Chapter 14: As Sharp as Spears

Chapter 15: The Meadow of Skeletons

PART THREE: AIR

Chapter 16: Gates of Horn and Ivory

Chapter 17 Ask, and It Shall be Given You

Chapter 18: Seek, and Ye Shall Find

Chapter 19: Knock, and it Shall Be Opened Unto You (1/3 edited, 2/3 drafted)

Chapter 20: The Stain No Storm Could Wash Away (1/3 edited, 2/3 drafted)

Chapter 21: A Stone and a Serpent 

Chapter 22: Treading Water 

Chapter 23: Last Dream of my Soul 

PART FOUR: EARTH

Chapter 24: On Solid Ground 

Chapter 25: Ideal – and Worthy of Envy  

Chapter 26: Sue’s Diner (edited)

Chapter 27: In Dark Depths Lurking (edited)

Chapter 28: The Abyss Beckons (edited)

Chapter 29: : No Breath of Wind, No Ripple of Water (edited)

Chapter 30: Ferry and Scythe

Epilogue