Book Review: Amanda in New Mexico @supermegawoman #halloweenreads #kidsreads #travel #newmexico

Synopsis

Amanda Ross is on a school trip to Taos, New Mexico with several of her fellow creative students. She shares a room with Cleo, an anxious classmate who insists she sees ghosts. Although Amanda is determined to prove there is no such thing, she can’t seem to shake the feeling that something or someone is watching her.

Join Amanda, Cleo and their funny friend, Caleb, as they visit a rugged and beautiful landscape where a traditional hacienda, an ancient pueblo, and a haunted and spooky hotel all hold secrets to a wild and violent past.

Does Cleo really see ghosts? Can Amanda escape the eerie wind that follows her everywhere? Perhaps The Day of the Dead will reveal the mysteries of Taos in this latest adventure of Amanda’s travels.

My review

Amanda in New Mexico Ghosts In The Wind

It’s always fun to read an Amanda adventure. This one is set in the mountains, in Taos in New Mexico.  I’ve read several in the series now and can recommend.   This was a lovely halloween and anytime read for kids and educational too. In this book the other two main characters are Caleb, a cute, jokey boy, and Cleo who is afraid of ghosts. Amanda is our intrepid explorer who writes for kidblog. I particularly enjoyed the sections on The Day of The Dead, wild west characters, and the spooky bits! The ending had a nice uplifting touch which made me smile.

It’s always a joy to go travelling with Amanda!

Highly recommended for kids and sure their adults will enjoy too!

Read via Kindle unlimited

My rating: 5 stars

Author Bio

Growing up on a ranch near Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada, Darlene Foster dreamt of writing, traveling the world, and meeting interesting people. She also believed in making her dreams come true. It’s no surprise she’s now the award-winning author of Amanda Travels, a children’s adventure series featuring a spunky twelve-year-old who loves to travel to unique places. Readers of all ages enjoy following Amanda as she unravels one mystery after another. When not traveling herself, Darlene divides her time between the west coast of Canada and the Costa Blanca, Spain with her husband and entertaining rescue dogs, Dot and Lia. http://www.darlenefoster.ca

#TankaTuesday Weekly #Poetry Challenge No. 323, 6/6/2023: Spedlins Castle #spedlins #castle #Scotland #poetry #tanka #travel

I had the great fortune to stay at Spedlins Castle in Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland with hubby and friends in July 2022 for a old mates University reunion. This is without a doubt, a stunning place, definitely, a location to inspire colour poetry! Actually, I think this would be a wonderful location for a writer’s retreat.

For my 1st poem, I chose the colour Green and prompt word, Earth Magic.

Green topiaries, lawns,
A garden of earth magic, 
Old friends reunite,
Curious nooks and crannies, 
Confessions and ghosts.

What a view!
Relaxing place to unwind 😌
An open door… and beautiful views.

My next poem is inspired by an open white window, (see below,) and the ghost, ‘James ‘Dunty’ Porteous who was the miller for the Village of Milhousebridge and delivered bread to the Baronet, Sir Alexander Jardine, at Spedlins Tower. James was well known for his quarrelsome nature,’ he was purported to be trapped under the staircase trap door at Spedlins Castle! Do not fear, the ghost has apparently long since been exorcised! Nevertheless, I do sense some unusual happenings at Spedlins… That’s it charm! Watch out for bats, white stone geese and creepy goings on.

You can read more about poor Dunty here: https://ghosts.fandom.com/wiki/Spedlins_Tower

White window ajar,
Tranquil scene that time forgets, 
Cruel dungeon's trapdoor,
Abandoned man, peace broken,
Confessions and ghost stories.

And my next poem is inspired by this beautiful single yellow flower on a tree…


Spedlins fairytale,
Blushing photos, lover's art,
Single yellow bud,
Clarity, sunshine and joy,
Brushstrokes, love, lush green spaces.

Here’s a photo of the steep staircase… thank goodness for comfy shoes and that rope to hold onto. We weren’t sleeping up on the highest floor but some of our friends were!

So atmospheric!


There are bookcases everywhere! And art, memorabilia and photographs.

M J Mallon

And beautiful walks…

This blog post, poems and photographs are copyright © M J Mallon 2023

To join in this week’s wonderful #TankaTuesday Weekly #Poetry follow this link:

https://wordcraftpoetry.com/2023/06/06/tankatuesday-weekly-poetry-challenge-no-323-6-6-2023/

I hope you enjoyed Spedlins. I loved it

Book Graphic

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Next Chapter Publishing Author Page: https://www.nextchapter.pub/authors/mj-mallon
Twitter: @Marjorie_Mallon https://twitter.com/Marjorie_Mallon 

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Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Tuesday Challenge No. 54: GHOST & HAUNT

 

 

I dream in colour,

But now everything is dark,

Where has the light gone?

Oh, cruel leafy canopy?

No green meadow, just blue thoughts.

 

A spectre haunts me,

Through the trees he drifts slowly,

I hear no weeping,

Just a tall, grey wall of sighs,

Twigs snap, and nothing changes.

© M J Mallon 2017.

Oh dear, that was sad and depressing! …. Why am I always drawn to writing such misery?  Don’t answer that!

Hope you like my Tanka’s (even if they’re sad,) and the contrasting photos I took of the trees.

To join in with Colleen’s challenge follow the link: https://colleenchesebro.com/2017/10/10/colleens-weekly-poetry-tuesday-challenge-no-54-ghost-haunt/

Bye for now, time for a smiley Sunday face! It had to be done!

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My social media links:
Authors/Bloggers Rainbow Support Club
Twitter: @Marjorie_Mallon  @curseof_time
Instagram
Facebook

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Fellow Administrators of our Authors Bloggers Rainbow Support Club #ABRSC on Facebook, myself, my good friends Colleen Chesebro and Debby Gies. Click on Colleen’s and Debby’s photos to be directed to their awesome blogs. These ladies rock!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The 5th Annual Halloweensie Writing Contest

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I’m joining in Susanna Leonard Hill’s  Halloweensie Writing Contest as this looked a bit of fun, what with my blog theme this month being Halloween stuff and nonsense!!  The word limit is just 100 words, excluding the title, so given that I decided to write a poem, which is a bit of a challenge for me as apart from writing haikus I don’t normally write poetry.

Here is a link to Susanna’s blog if you’d like to join in with this fun contest (entries have to be in by Friday October 30th by 11:59 PM EDT) : http://susannahill.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/the-5th-annual-halloweensie-writing.html

The Contest:  write a 100 word Halloween story appropriate for children (title not included in the 100 words), using the words costumedark, and haunt.   Your story can be scary, funny or anything in between, poetry or prose, but it will only count for the contest if it includes those 3 words and is 100 words (you can go under, but not over!)  Get it?  Halloweensie – because it’s not very long and it’s for little people 🙂  (And yes, I know 100 words is short but that’s part of the fun and the challenge!  We got over 130 fantastic entries last year so I know you can do it!)  Also, you may use the words in any form – e.g. haunt, haunts, haunted, darkness, darkening, costumed, whathaveyou 🙂  

The Lonely Gatecrashing Ghost.

Time to Go a Trick A Treat,

Don a costume pretty quick,

Sneak out before mum says no,

Grab your lantern, here we go.

 

Stop! A ghost haunts that dark alley,

He pulls funny faces to be pally,

Everyone turns away,

A game that no one wants to play.

 

The kids scream in fright,

Scattering in a terrible flight,

Halloween’s for guzzling sweets,

Make believe dress up feats.

 

Not for ghosts gate-crashing fun,

Stealing sweets by the ton,

Scaring old ladies walking by,

A wicked recipe to die.

 

Take your nonsense,

And your conscience,

Don’t be a git,

Do a ghostly flit!

 

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.  

 

Hope you liked my entry. I kind of felt a bit sorry for the poor old ghost being excluded from the fun!

 

Bye for now.

 

It’s so dark outside since the clocks went back, just makes me want to sleep!

 

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Marje @ Kyrosmagica xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#Blog Battle. An Exercise in Fun: Orchid Girl

This is my entry for Rachael Ritchey’s writing Blog Battle: http://rachaelritchey.com/blogbattle/

Week 28 Theme is Orchid and the genre of my short story is Paranormal Romance.

Date to Post: Tuesday, September 29th, 2015

Rules:
1.1000 words max
2.fictional tale (or true if you really want)
3.PG (no more than PG-13) Content – let’s keep this family friendly!
4.Your story must contain the word(s) from the theme and/or be centered around the theme in a way that shows it is clearly related
5.Go for the entertainment value!
6.State the Genre of your story at the top of your post.
7.Post your story on Tuesday, by 11:59 PM PST
8.Use the hashtag #BlogBattle when tweeting your story, put a link back to your #BlogBattle Short Story in the comments section of this page, and/or include a link to this page in your own blog post (it creates a “ping-back” which will alert me and our friends to your #BlogBattle post)
9.Have fun!

Orchid Girl

The heady exotic scent of the orchids reminded him of a time long ago. On that particular day he had filled his living room with a floral tribute to a past life which he celebrated each year without fail. But this time it was different, he had made special plans and now they were about to come to fruition. He waited nervously for the clock to announce that it was time for him to pick Suzie up. He could hardly contain his excitement; he set about making his house as beautiful as he could so that it would meet Suzie’s expectations. But would Suzie meet his?

He had been met with derision when he told his friends and family about his plans, a mail order bride how ridiculous! A middle aged, lonely old man, exhibiting signs of desperation that’s what they’d said, or intimidated.

He greeted his bride at the airport with a shy hug. An almost perfect vision of beauty, her petite frame, and jet black hair gleamed with a glossy, playful youthfulness but her delicate features couldn’t conceal a tragic expression that seemed irreversible.

He wondered how he was to bear looking at such a sad face for the rest of his life. He prayed that he could turn the sharp downwards turn of her lips to a smile.

The journey back to his house was more or less silent apart from short bursts of conversation, in which she replied with a yes or a no.

But when she walked into the living room, she couldn’t contain her enthusiasm.
“This pretty,” she said, pointing at the orchids, a hint of a smile playing seductively on the edge of her lovely lips.

The orchids had won a tiny place in her heart, orchids always did.

As the day departed and evening began to suggest itself Alfred’s nervousness increased. It was such a long time since he had gone to bed with a woman. So many years, he did not care to count how many. He worried about his wobbly tummy, his hairy chest smattered with tiny grey hairs. Would this young woman cry and sob into his sheets, would he be the cause of a further sharp downturn of her sweet lips?

He gave her privacy to get undressed, imagined her placing a silky negligee on the bed, slipping into it, and laying her head on his pillow. He imagined her black hair fanned out on the pillow, a sharp contrast to the crisp whiteness of the sheets. He plucked one of the orchids from its stem, and took it up to her intending to pop it into her hair.

When he walked into the bedroom the humid room reminded him of a stifling greenhouse. He opened the window to let in some fresh air. He daren’t look at her, not yet, that magical moment would come later. As the fresh air drifted into the room, he turned to undress her with his gaze, but he saw his foolishness straight away.

He sat on the edge of the crisp bed, his eyes brimming with tears. He deserved this. It was always the same, she never came. He wept, picking up his wedding picture, his wife Grace stared back at him. Grace’s smiling face could match the most beautiful of sunsets. He couldn’t bear it, why did he torture himself this way? She had died without his saying goodbye. No final farewell.

Every year it was the same, on the anniversary of her death, he always bought orchids, her favourite flower and he filled their home with them. But she didn’t come. He had resorted to shock tactics, imagining a fantasy to bring her back to him one last time. His fantasy scenarios never worked, he sensed her presence in their room, but she didn’t return to him. Why would she?

He didn’t deserve her. He cried, and cried. He lifted up the tiny bottle of pills, his hands trembled as he tipped them out. Such tiny pills, he thought, so harmless looking. The water next, one big gulp and it would be all over, no more suffering. But as he turned the lid of the bottle, he thought he saw a tiny movement. The glass had moved, it was no longer on his bedside table but appeared to be hovering before him. As he looked at the glass more closely he saw the sweet semblance of his wife, a shimmering sunset glow, holding death away from him. The water tipped, evaporating as it splashed.

Alfred couldn’t believe his eyes. She had come back, his Grace, his love. “It’s you,” he said, his voice cracked, breaking with emotion.
“Yes.”
“My Gracie, I’ve missed you so much. Why have you taken so long to come back to me?”

“Hurt lay heavy in my heart, so my friend time, became my healer. Now the time is right for you to live and love again. Now I can rest forever.”

  “No, Grace, please, there’s something I must tell you.”

“There’s no need, it has taken me a long while, but I forgive you Alfred. I always knew that you didn’t mean those hurtful words.”

“I’m so sorry Grace, I was stressed. I lost my temper, shouted at you, when I shouldn’t have. I blamed myself for your heart attack.”

“You’re not to blame Alfred. My heart attack wasn’t caused by anything you said. But all this crazy fantasising is giving me a ghost of a second heart attack! Promise me this Alfred, live your life. Let your fantasies become realities. Maybe not that mail order bride, that’s preposterous, but you know what I mean.”

“I promise, Grace.”

He tucked the living orchid in the wispy suggestion of her sunlit hair. She gifted him one last sunset smile, a whispered farewell, and the sweetest hint of a lover’s kiss.

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.

Thanks for reading my blog battle entry I hope you enjoyed it. Do comment and let me know what you think.

Bye for now,

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Marje @ Kyrosmagica xx