While these authors make writing seem effortless, it’s always easier to read than write. And where these ideas come from is anyone’s guess.
All we can say is that we are blessed with their output.
Along with Volume 11, we’re wrapping up three new author’s production this year.
While we wrap up two series with the final installments of the Healers Chronicles and Walkaway Blues, we also start a new series with Corona-XI.
Most of this volume has to do with building and completing the Saga or Erotika Jones series. All great mystery, adventure, and a little time travel.
I hope you enjoy all these great stories.
“REMIND ME, SAL, WHY we are here again?”
Above us floated a massive mountain of rock, which was showering us at every small breeze with tiny stones and sand dust.
Taking shelter in it’s thin shade for some relief from the moderate heat of the endless Gobi desert on all sides, it made for a very uncomfortable position. Even though the desert was cool compared to the Sahara and others, sweat was still a given at this time of day. Along with the sandpaper bath.
Sal just sat there on her own camel, dressed in her light brown caftan and matching turban, smiling at me like I’d just cracked a joke at my own expense.
“John, how many times can I say you’re cute?’
“If I tell you, will it get us on top of that big piece of rock – so we can start talking to the ghosts in charge of this mess?”
She shook her head no. “Sorry, John. We’re just waiting for someone to give us an invitation.”
I shrugged. “Someone we know, I hope?”
The sand rumbled beneath our feet, and the camels got fidgety. I was used to writing books, walking pastures, tending quiet cattle on foot. Even my riding horses was a long time ago. But the past few days had gotten me used to these long-legged desert-beasts. Or so I thought. For me, a nervous camel just meant one thing: hang on for dear life.
Right at that thought, a sand devil spun up between the two of us. At that, the camels calmed – not what I expected their reaction to be.
A female figure emerged as the whirling sand died away. Long and flowing coal black hair with silver highlights framed a smiling face shining out above her timeless and young body – dressed today in a tan silk blouse tucked into British horse-cavalry pants and tall, brown leather boots. As if she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine for desert tourists.
“Hi-ya John, Sal. Need a lift?”
Corona-Xi01 – Empress Oracle by S. H. Marpel, J. R. Kruze
The Saga of Erotika Jones 02 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel
The Saga of Erotika Jones 03 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel
The Saga of Erotika Jones 04 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel
The Saga of Erotika Jones 05 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel
The Saga of Erotika Jones 06 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel
The Saga of Erotika Jones 07 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel
The Saga of Erotika Jones 08 by J. R. Kruze, S. H. Marpel
The Healers Chronicles: Miracles – 03 by S. H. Marpel
The Case of the Walkaway Diner Redoux by S. H. Marpel
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