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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Occult, Part 2

Part One of this snippet-occult series delves into mock occult practices which anyone that feels like faking occult practices could do, such as claiming to ‘channel’ some spirit entity so as to embed oneself into some New Age celebrity grouping, for instance. Heck, IMHO, anyone can claim to be a ‘witch’ or ‘wizard’ just by buying a Ouija Board or Tarot Cards or pretend to perform séances. Now I never owned a Ouija Board but I once bought Tarot Cards having no clue as to how to use them as a witch would, but just to see what Tarot Cards looked like. One girls’ slumber party I attended–I was in a high school B-list sorority–I witnessed (without taking part in it) a séance on a sorority member performed by another sorority member who may or may not have ever performed séances before. As I stated in the previous post, any activity I had with anything occultist stopped the night two friends and I created a mock Ouija Board and would up calling up spirits we should never have called up, scaring the crap out of all of us so that they had to walk me home over a mile around 11 p.m. and it was still winter.

In part 2, the snippets call forth much more sinister forces than mere fake channeling of some New Age ‘god.’ Anyone who studies the occult knows why occult rituals are used–for true witchcraft, and to capture souls for the forces of evil, the devil, aka Satan, which in The Prodigal Band Trilogy is referred to as Corion, a fictional false god of an ancient fictional Celtic cannibal sect that rivaled the Druids, called ‘the Crag-Dwellers’ of the mountains of Wales. Now who would want to ‘capture souls for the forces of evil’? The spiritual forces of evil, of course, and their minions on Earth whom they have given such as power, wealth, fame, fortune, and lusts in exchange for their loyalty to the Evil. And who would be victimized by these forces? Folks who get suckered into seeking advantages over others by “selling their souls to” the devil and such, which is supposedly rampant in the annals of popular culture, according to some. Rock stars, for instance, but also their fans.

The first snippet is from the first chapter of Battle of the Band and has fictional band leader Jack “praying” for success for his band, Sound Unltd, about to tour the UK after winning a contest.  He thinks he is praying to good angels but bad angels, The Demons, answer his “prayer.”


Early morning, June 6, 1986

 

Bound for London for fame and fortune, sleepy-eyed band leader Jack Lubin lifted himself out of bed, went to his wash basin and communed with the deities.

“If anyone is listening, please answer me. Look, man, we want to make it big. Huge! The greatest rock ‘n roll band there ever was. We got the talent, we got the ambition, and I got the will to drive us. Do you think you can fix it for us?”

“We hear you,” a deep voice answered.

The seventeen-year-old guitarist stumbled backwards into a dresser drawer, aghast. “Who the hell are you?”

“One of your guardian angels, as you would call us. As for your wish, it’s done.”

“Huh? Just like that? By wishing for it?”

“Of course, you won’t make it right away. You’ll have to work your way up like anyone else. That’s so nobody suspects our pact.”

“Our pact?”

“Yes. We will see you make your big break. And once you make it, no one will be able to stop you. Sound Unltd will be invincible. All you boys have to do is prove you want it more than anything. More than anything!” The Demons laughed in uproar. “When the time is right, we’ll name our price.”

Jack shook. “A price? What you mean by that?”

“Well,” the deep voice laughed, “you can’t expect fame and fortune for nothing, can you?”

As the notion of paying a price for success swarmed in his head like attacking bees, Jack repeated out loud, “I didn’t hear that. Just me imagination, eh?”

The second snippet comes from the end of Chapter Seven after guitarist-producer Mick is poisoned, his cocaine he was addicted to having been laced with strychnine. This event happened shortly after Mick and his gay lover, singer Adam Bloodlove, argued while Bloodlove was about to sign a recording contract with Mick’s record label. Mega-media mogul, Mr. X., ordered New Age and Satanic cult leader Swami Negran to murder Bloodlove in order to “force” Mick and his band to “sign the Pact” with the devil as they both believed that Mick believed Bloodlove had laced the coke with the poison–that way, a dead man could “tell no tales” and prove his innocence.


The Indian mystic was given his instructions by Mr. X. A square piece of paper read, “The time for Sound Unltd to sign a Pact with Our Lord Lucifer is near. Have producer see the consequences of not fulfilling his group’s bargain. He assumes Bloodlove poisoned him. So that Bloodlove can’t tell that he is innocent, kill the singer.”

A short time later, Swami showed up on Adam’s doorstep. The occultist eagerly opened the door.

“Welcome, Swami. Come in and party with me, eh?”

“Yes, my friend, but first I have something to show you.” Negran held out his red crystal. “Look into my crystal, Adam. You will see something very interesting.”

Adam forgot he’d asked the mystic in. “Well—yes, I think I will.”

“Look deeply, my friend.”

Bloodlove held it in his hand and took a sharp look. “I see a man in there, eh? That’s strange.”

“Yes. Look long and hard.”

The singer began to glow. “Hmmm. I feel really light, like I’m disintegrating, becoming a light beam. Light headed.”

He now felt hypnotized. His life force was slowly but surely sucked out of his body while the luminous egg surrounding him entrapped his physical state. Several minutes later, Bloodlove collapsed dead, his soul imprisoned within the crystal.

Adam’s body was found by a derelict two months later in a sewer that connected to a London Underground station.

The final snippet comes from Chapter Six of The Prodigal Band and introduces another man soon-to-be-possessed by evil, Mark Besst, that will try to win the confidence of the band for nefarious purposes.


Enter Mark Besst—The Making of a Hellyon, the Inner Circle, 1995

 

Allyson Hallsey-Foxworth took a potion meant to cause mild hallucinations for Mark Besst during his initiation into the Hellyon Society Inner Sanctum and slipped it into the water he was about to drink.

“Here you go, Mark. Water. You must be thirsty after all that sex.”

He took the water and drank it. “Thanks, I needed that.”

He did not notice any difference in taste of the water due to the potion, which would cause him to become drowsy enough so that Hellyon minions could bind him and place a black hood over his head as part of the initiation, and cart him off to Torquay’s dungeon for the Inner Sanctum Hellyon ritual.

And when Mark was standing at the foot of the altar as Baron Torquay thrust a sword into a terrified two-year-old orphan as a sacrifice to Satan-Lucifer-Corion, he would consider the event an episode of heightened consciousness, as if he was in a state of Buddhist nirvana.

And so it was, at the altar, when Melanie Ross, at his right side, in nothing but a hooded black robe, handed him a 24-carot gold cup of the sacrificial blood, which he slurped robustly.

The chanting of a satanic prayer began, but the Hellyon on his left side, Ally, implored, “Don’t drink it all, Mark! Leave some for the rest of us!”

The Hellyon closest to Torquay at the baron’s right, the last to sip the blood, was Marty, the Duke of Effingchester. After partaking, he threw the cup against the opposite rock wall and proclaimed, at the end of the ritual, “Come, O Lord Lucifer! This world is yours! And now Mark Besst is yours!”

 

Above ground in the ballroom of Torquay Hall where millions of dollars’ worth of gold, diamonds, pearls, and human bones and teeth were strewn, the Hellyons celebrated their newest member into their Inner Sanctum.

Torquay, half-naked in a satin black half-robe that nearly exposed his manhood as well as his somewhat flabby legs—he was 65—went up to Besst and grabbed his right arm, turning him around. “Your company success is now assured, and your competition will be destroyed, Mark. You will own the online media, completely. You will help us control planet Earth. Literally. Our Lord Lucifer will make you a god. Literally! For we, all of us here, are gods and goddesses.” Wicked laughter. “We rule the Earth at the behest of Our Lord.”

“Including Ally and Melanie?”

“Allyson Hallsey-Foxworth is 36, but she looks 16, right? Our Lord Lucifer keeps her young and maybe the sexiest woman alive. She drinks aborted fetus blood often. In fact, her company and foundation owns many abortion clinics on Earth, even in places like China. And Melanie? Same thing, but she has an even darker nature. She is the one that buys and sells babies and children for Ally and the rest of us. She now owns over one thousand orphanages and controls the ones my father used to own. She and Marty. And no one who works at these places will ever dare challenge either one of them.  As with my father,” he laughed, again wickedly, “they despise the masses and want their flesh and their blood.”

“Really? Well,” Mark laughed with a smirk, “they need to save some for me.”

“Good!”

“Yeah, I have watched Marty over the years, and hung around Rodney Davis as well. I consider them my mentors.” Then he flinched. “But what I don’t get is why Marty married that Tina! Such a bore! Not the Hellyon type I guess.”

Baron got nasty at the mention of her name. “Do NOT mention that wench! That marriage was arranged by her mother and father who just happen to be here tonight,” he pointed toward the bar, “over there. They are totally ashamed at her and want nothing to do with her and in fact,” Baron whispered in Mark’s ear, “have thought about killing her, what with her not wanting to be part of us! But I have told them not to even consider that.” Baron then talked in a normal voice. “Tina is good friends with a man whom we need with us and was promised to us many years ago, he and his five cohorts. Sound Unltd.”

“Really?!” Mark nearly shouted in surprise.

“Yes. All six have been promised to us, to Our Lord Lucifer, for many years, since the late 80s. But, Mark, something or someone keeps getting in the way. Whenever we think we have them, something happens.”

Mark then came up with an idea to serve his new master. “Maybe I can help on that front, Baron. They, all of them, even the doubters among them, trust me.”

“Yes, you can and you must. As for Neville Banner, he is not committed to serving us. He wouldn’t even join our outer group, let alone our Inner Sanctum. According to Ally, who used to date Mick Pordengreau—who was an outer Hellyon for a while, even, but again would not commit to us—Mick turned Neville away from the idea of joining us. We had given Neville a mission to help capture the six.”

 

That is, getting this six into Banner’s World Community Artists Foundation, and getting Swami Negran in good with them, resulting in the ‘world unity’ gig of 1994, which led to riots and teens murdering young children—thanks to the influence of the red crystals.

 

“And he has failed miserably.”

Considering members of the band were leaving, not joining, the Foundation.

“I’ve always liked Neville,” Mark said disgustedly, “but now? He is clearly weak minded, unsure of who calls the shots in this world. And I must say, Baron, I didn’t just join the Hellyons for success and millions and billions of money. I truly love Lucifer! I want to serve him! Lucifer implores us to live the way we want. If we want to be good, fine, but if we want power and money and great sex and see godhood, Lucifer wants us to have that as well. I have wanted to follow Lucifer since I was a freshman in college.”

Then Mark explained to Torquay how Allyson Hallsey-Foxworth’s brother Drew recruited him into the Hellyons. He convinced Mark that aborting unwanted fetuses and sacrificing unwanted orphans to Satan or Corion or another false god was not only good for the Earth—getting rid of ‘useless eaters’—but good for the sacrificed fetus or child to Satan-Corion. That way, Satan-Corion would ‘take care of’ and ‘love’ that sacrificed fetus or child.

“So, you see, Baron, I really want to do the will of Our Lord Lucifer. And punish Neville for betraying our god! He will pay for his crimes!”

“That is your mission, then, Mark. Take care of the infidel! And the sextet.”

 

And the ‘infidel’ was poisoned to death by Mark Besst in 2001. By then, Besst, CEO of a tech giant, was out to control the world, online and off-line.

That’s it for the occult snippets. Paranormal is next.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

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Updated “Contact” Page

Well I finally figured out why the original “contact” page didn’t work! Sorry I’m a writer, not a “techie” so I screwed that up using some pre-set “contact” page format which had no way for anyone to contact OmegaBooks, plus the e-mail address had to be changed as well. My old e-mail address was scammed and possibly hacked, so I changed it to the ProtonMail service which is encrypted and then decrypted….whatever that means!

Here is the new contact page with e-mail address.

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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Occult, Part 1

Along with snippets relating to the fiction genre known as horror within The Prodigal Band Trilogy are snippets of horror’s ‘sidekick,’ the occult. I have only witnessed the ‘milder’ side of occultism–Ouija Boards, Tarot Cards, mock séances with fake ‘mediums,’ and in all instances these tools were not being used by actual ‘witches’ or wiccans. Just ‘playing’ at it during parties or whatever. Yet one evening at a friend’s house more than a mile from my own house two friends and I did get a good look at what true witchcraft would look like without realizing it, and the event scared the crap out of me to the point where the two friends had to walk me home around 11 p.m.! After that, I eschewed any and all of these practices! But I did get to witness actual occult practices, and, while writing the trilogy, was glad I did partake in the occult, a little bit, knowing I would never do such things again. Any other knowledge of occult rituals came from horror movies or fiction novels.

All three novels that make up The Prodigal Band Trilogy have occult aspects. Part 1 of this snippet-occult series shows the mockery side of the occult as well as the witnessing of pure occultist evil that took place inside of a separate room within what is called an ‘Ashram,’ which is a Hindu religious retreat that could also be used in any eastern-type religion (which is what Swami Negran’s ‘Church of the Circle of Unity’ is derived from, using Hindu/Sikh systems for a New Age cult. Negran is a prominent fictional evil character within the trilogy. His successor, fake ‘healer’ Cole Blessing, is featured in the second snippet.)

In the first snippet, drummer Tom Cornsby of the band Sound Unltd surrounds himself with an entourage including a ‘clairvoyant,’ Prissy, who is also a pop star, her handler, Paul, a TV show-hostess, Lady Moira, and a rock singer, Peter Slade among others, lounging around a hookah during a party. His ultimate goal is to find out, using these celebrities with ties to aristocracy and government officials, who indentured his ancestors. Since Prissy and some of the others are into occult rituals, he pretends to ‘channel’ the New Age ‘god’ Corion, the ‘god’ of the Swami church. This snippet comes from Chapter Three of Battle of the Band. At this point, Tom’s agenda is just getting in with these folks so that he could use them later after they learned to trust him. In later parts, he finally meets a fictitious princess who would be more knowledgeable about whom had indentured his ancestors.


Tom, once consigned to the background as clairvoyant pop star Prissy Wyatt’s toy boy, had the street sense to develop his own jet-set following which turned enraptured on his every word. Lying against pillows depicting woven dragons, his little entourage surrounded a hookah. They discussed the future of Prissy’s singing career guided by her producer and promoter, Mushroom Paul, son of an MP. With his advice, Tom might as well have been her manager, agent and songwriter.

Prissy inhaled some hashish. “Whatever happens, I swear I won’t make any decisions without consulting Mushroom Paul and Tom. Tom’s sorta my spirit-guide right now. He knows. He knows.”

Peter Slade, a low-level aristocrat and singer with Hot Vinyl, asked, “What kind of music will you do? Raunchy metal? Orchestral? Mystical?”

“None o’ those,” Tom answered in his nasally baritone voice. “All that shit’s on the way out, eh? Prissy’s gonna do what I call honky-tonk. Really, Pris, you have that show-parlor style. You could do a flapper act, eh girl? Tell you what. I’ll even be your drummer, eh? With EpiGram’s permission and all that crap.” The five-foot-six drummer laughed, then took a hookah hose and inhaled.

Paul snickered. “Right. And her songwriter, and her manager, and her limo driver.”

“Yeh, and you could be her bootlicker.”

Paul responded with a cuss. Tom responded with, “Not in this lifetime.”

“Really, you two.” Lady Moira Sedgewick sighed. “Why do you both always have to argue?”

“Tom’s an arguer, that’s why.” Paul whined.

Prissy came to the drummer’s defense with a giddy smile. “Now that’s not true, is it, Tom?”

“That’s what Mick and Bry say. I love to argue. But I feel I have something to say, so I say it.”

Tom saw Prissy gleam at him. He quickly turned away to roll his eyes. She’s such a little nuisance.

Slade said, “You don’t like ol’ Mick, do you?”

“It goes back to when Mick and Bry joined us. Mick acted like I was going to consume his skinny little bod. Like I was a vampire. Little prevert. And get this. He really grimaced when I smiled and said hello to him.”

“Knowing Mick,” Slade said, “he probably would have loved it if you did consume his skinny bod.” Laughs.

“No. I won’t even have lunch with the bastard.”

Tom laughed to himself as he thought about the others lying with him. No sense telling these silly people why I don’t go for that perv shit. They’d never understand. They’ve never been abused, poor, homeless, indentured. Really such stupid little rich kids. So ripe for my plucking. They’ll never guess I’m only using them to find out who indentured my family.

That Prissy, whose tabloid predictions usually came out true, needed a spirit-guide bothered talk-show celebrity Moira. “What I don’t understand, Pris, is why you—a fortune teller—need Tom or anyone else to make your decisions for you.”

“Because my auras and chakras have been so clouded lately. Too much interference from bad angels. I can’t handle it now, and I’ll prove it.”

Lady Sedgewick slapped the floor. “Prissy? Are you saying you can’t be my medium anymore? Please don’t tell me that. Just who the hell am I supposed to get to replace you?”

“I’ll show you who. The spirits that communicated with me will now do so with Tom. Tom’s a channel. He didn’t even know it when I met him last year. Did you know the god Corion speaks through him?”

Slade, a debonair but insecure star who was new to New Age ideas, asked, “Who the hell is Corion?”

Prissy answered. “A god of light born in darkness. The One we call God threw Corion out of Paradise, but then Corion changed his ways and is now a god of light. There’s a tribe in Africa that claims Corion is married to the deity we call The World. He will now speak through Tom when I call him in séance. Isn’t that super?” She looked at everyone. “Now let’s hold hands.”

The crowd surrounding the hookah sat yoga style holding hands in a circle. Prissy went into a trance and called Corion. “God of light born in darkness, speak to us.”

Very quickly, ‘Corion’ answered her through a deeper voice of the conniving drummer. “I am here. Your question, please.”

“You once said there would be world unity and peace in a few years, and all the world’s tuned-in people would follow your chosen minstrels.”

“Yes.”

“Could you tell the tuned-in friends here who will be your chosen minstrels?”

With a meditative poker-face, Tom-as-Corion answered, “The band called Sound Unltd.”

An uproar of protest ensued. “Oh, come off it!” Slade yelled. “What sorta crap is that, Pris? Of course he’s gonna say that!”

“Hear me, unbeliever!” Tom-as-Corion bellowed back. “There is no doubt! They will be persecuted next year. But they will afterwards rise up and lead the youth of this planet into an era of—novordopax, nuevopax, tricameron.”

Tom then woke up from his pretended enchantment. “Well, did I? Did Corion speak through me?”

“Yeah,” Slade said with a sneer, “and he said your quintet would be the leaders of the world’s youth into an era of—what the hell is ‘novordopax’ and that other gibberish?”

No one could answer that.

Cornsby, with authority, said, “It’s Corion’s word for world peace, or didn’t you know, with your proper public school education, that ‘pax’ is Latin for ‘peace’?”

“It’s just that I find it ridiculous that Corion—through you—would say Sound Unltd will lead the world’s youth as if you’re the reincarnation of—”

“And who are you to doubt Corion? The man’s a god, eh? If he says we will, then we will. So—we will. We got that ambition, eh?”

In the second snippet Tom and this princess, Tina, who are in fact lovers though Tina is married to the one whose ancestors did in fact indenture Tom’s family, meet together at the basement of a palace next to the Ashram mentioned earlier. What they witness while outside looking through a door window is a wicked occult ritual led by the evil fake doctor Cole Blessing within a large room. Blessing uses the original occult amulet known as the Red Crystal of Corion, which brings forth demonic powers, in this ritual. This takes place at the end of Chapter Eight of The Prophesied Band and is narrated by pop culture pundit Jay Elliot, who sees the two witnessing the ritual.


“I just can’t see very much, Tom,” the Princess of Leandro whispered with anxiety as she looked through a tiny square glass window built into a metal door.

“Blessing, my wonderful husband, and one or two others are in there, I know, because I can hear them. But it’s too dark in there!” Tina then turned to Cornsby. “There is a red glow, however. Not a lightbulb glow. More like a candle that glows red, or a candle covered by a red glass.” Turned back. “A votive candle, perhaps. Or a red-glowing crystal.”

The drummer, standing behind her, let his body fall against the door. “A red crystal?” A loud whisper. “Don’t tell me Blessing’s got one o’ those!”

“I hope they didn’t hear you slam against their door, Tom.” Her annoyed voice was low normal. “Anyway,” she looked at him, “It’s too big to be the kind Swami Negran wore. But I feel this crystal and Negran’s are related somehow.”

“Maybe the crystal in there is the mother of all the other crystals Swami had, including the ones he gave the six of us.”

I heard the last thing he and she said to each other. More than just curious, I went toward Tom and Tina. Less than a minute later I heard them go breathless and saw the aura of a giant red glow.

“Tom!” Frightened. “You won’t believe this!” Turned to him. “See this for yourself.”

The curly blond said nothing at first as he feasted his eyes on a room large enough to be a gymnasium, with objects of pure gold wall-to-wall, and the hooded people—including a woman by the look of her face—in supplication to Blessing, who stood hoodless over the red crystal.

Blessing’s hands then engulfed the crystal the size of a baseball—which, having just illuminated the room, now burned a fiery ball of light.

And when Tom heard him speak, Blessing’s voice bellowed with such force several gold statues near the west wall shook.

Corion was also in the room.

“My children,” the dark voice said, “soon I and Mother Nature will come forth to show the only way for the people of this beautiful lush planet—our way, as our enemies cringe and burn before us. Mother Earth will return to her greatness, my followers.”

The crowd chanted, “Your will be done, my lord.”

“Our enemies are being rounded up now, a herd for the slaughter, as our Master cleanses her domain, as I—with you at my right hand—come to the head of your world.”

“We are with you, my lord.”

“Tina!” Tom swiftly got off his tip-toes with breathless fear. “This is it! The people who seek to enslave this world. And Blessing is not Blessing. Or, maybe he’s speaking through a distortion microphone that I can’t see. But he sounds—possessed! Did you hear him? The chanting?”

“Yes. It’s Blessing’s inner circle. Probably the same ones that make up the Novordo Club.” Then she shuddered. “I think we need to leave, my love. I’m really afraid.”

“You got that right!”

In Occult, Part II will be featured rituals that take on a much more sinister tone as the chief minions of the Evil reveal themselves and their agenda in full.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Mystery

There is plenty of mystery within this trilogy, but it is not mystery in terms of crime (as with Sherlock Holmes), suspense, or science fiction, but spiritual mystery. However, the following snippets that follow a specific event highlighted by revelations from the spirit being for Good known as the ‘witch of the Hovels’ do incorporate crime and suspense themes. All of these snippets are found within the second book of the trilogy, The Prophesied Band.

The first snippet from Chapter Six finds the band Sound Unltd meeting with their manager Joe Phillips in spring, 1996, about the Asia leg of a tour that began the previous year and had to be rescheduled due to a crisis event that I will not issue a spoiler alert over. When that issue was settled, the guitarist-producer, Mick, then brought up the following relating to an archeological dig near his Holyhope Castle in the mountain area of eastern Wales. Mick is an occultist obsessed with the ancient High Priest of a pagan and cannibal cult, called Crynnwagg. The cult is called the Crag-Dwellers.


“…I’ve invited some archeologists up to Holyhope to dig for Crynnwagg’s bones.”

The drummer laughed. “You mean to tell us, Skinny, that your hero Crynnwagg’s bones just happen to be on your estate?”

Mick snickered. “No, Shorty, they’re not, eh? The archeologists are Druid scholars, they’re staying at Holyhope, and their digging site is four miles west of there at the foothills of—”

“You funding it, too?” Keith asked.

“Yeh, through the Druidic Foundation. Made contact with them four years ago. Only now are they done with their paperwork.”

The second snippet from Chapter Seven, partially referenced here, involves a phone conversation between Mick and pop culture magazine freelancer Jay Elliot, who is the narrator of The Prophesied Band. Elliot had heard over his car radio that an earthquake, an extreme rarity in Wales, had occurred in the area where the archeological dig was taking place. It is summer, 1998. In the conversation is mentioned that both Crynnwagg and Swami Negran had long tibias. Negran, whom had ensnared the band in his plot to win souls of fans as well as the souls of the sextet band using the red crystal amulets each of the six had worn during concerts, with the amulets being controlled by Swami, had supposedly recently died in a car crash.


“So,” I finally asked, “did the earthquake help you find the bones?”

“That they did. Or at least we’re speculating they’re his bones. Crynnwagg was known through legend to have had tibia bones much longer than they should have been.”

“Long-shanks.” Which reminded me of a long-ago English king.

“Yeh.” Snort. “And like Swami Negran, too. Little murdering bastard!”

By this time the word had gotten out that Negran was the one who did in Adam Bloodlove. Mick made sure of that. But no one could bring the Indian mystic to justice. The man supposedly had been killed by a Christian radical in a so-called car crash.

“And no one can find his red crystal,” I said.

“Joe thinks his father and his elitist cronies hid the crystal somewhere and they’re using it. I mean, all the crap with the weather. Shit, Jay, southern England’s drying up, and they’re literally drowning in Walltown. Jack and Keith have been up there about a month now. They think they’ve found some Code manuscripts in an iron vault, but they can’t open the vault until it stops raining. And who the hell ever heard of earthquakes in Wales? Torquay and them are definitely screwing around with the weather.”

I laughed, especially since he had no proof. “You sound like those militia-types we have here in the States.”

Pordengreau snorted several times. “You know I’ve never believed that shit until now. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff Tom’s gotten out of Tina how Torquay and Effingchester are out to control the planet.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.” Of course, I still wasn’t convinced that anti-new-order stuff wasn’t anything more than sheer paranoia. “So, what’s gonna happen to the bones?”

“They’ll be sent to the Archeological Society for carbon-dating. If the bones are about nineteen-hundred-fifty-years-old, we’ll be fairly sure they’re Crynnwagg’s.”

The rest of the snippets come from Chapter Nine. The mysterious ‘witch of the hovels’ had summoned two of the band members to meet with her in the home town Victoria Park near the angelic statue called The Tooters. The meeting took place early June, 2000.


Tom, Keith, Jack, Billy Prestin—with whom Jack stayed while in town—and new arrival Bryan sat facing each other at a chessboard table under a shade tree several yards at a diagonal to the famed statue.

“Mick’s on his way,” Bry told the others. “Spoke to him on the phone at my folks’ place. And he has what he calls ‘scary’ news about Crynnwagg’s bones.”

“Scary news?” Tom said. “Right. He’ll probably tell us they’re Adam Bloodlove’s.”

“You know Mick. Loves to be occultically dramatic.”

After discussing the reason for the meeting, Mick finally shows up with news regarding Crynnwagg’s bones. The “King” referenced is Edward II, known as “Longshanks” in the movie Braveheart.


The five and Prestin didn’t have to wait much longer for Mick. When he showed up, the sun was heading down over the shadowy horizon of council houses and ship yards. A shadowy pall rose slowly up the south face of The Tooters, heightening the tall one’s mask of gloom.

After greetings, Tom asked, “So, Skinny, what’s up at the bone yard?”

Pordengreau, who once wore gaily colored robes to match is gay-ly lifestyle, now tended toward jeans and t-shirts with cartoon characters. Further, it was rumored he had started shunning other men. The horrifying fate of former lover Adam Bloodlove did a psychological number on the lanky one.

Who now began hyperventilating.

“What’s wrong, Mick?” Jack asked.

The lanky one composed himself. “Um, look, what I have to tell you scares the shit outta me. It’s too unbelievable.”

Tom asked, “Is this the reason you’ve had to wait so long to find out if the bones were Crynnwagg’s?”

Deep sigh. “They’re not Crynnwagg’s.” Another sigh along with a pounding heart. “They’re Swami Negran’s.”

As if ordained by God that this startling news should quiet all sound, the life of the park came to a standstill.

Six eye-popping faces on bodies taken aback, froze.

“The bones are not fourteen-hundred-or-so-years-old. The bones are so recent that carbon fourteen-dating can’t register them.” Mick spoke as if entranced to an audience of zombies. “I found that out several months ago. So then they began to narrow it down to dental records and the fact that both Crynnwagg and Swami had long-shanks.”

That last phrase awakened Jack. “Like that King.”

“Yeh. But having narrowed the candidates to people with long tibias, and me telling the university people that Swami had those kinda bones, they sent for Negran’s dental records, and voila! Match.”

By then everyone else had come out of his comatose state.

“But no one believed it at first. Not me or the team I sponsored. Swami was killed in a car crash, eh? Which would mean at least some of his bones would have been mutilated in the crash. News reports said the whole right side of his body was smashed. But these bones don’t show that. It’s as if he died a natural death with no bone deterioration. Like I said, no one could believe that. Negran was about middle-aged, when most people start losing bone calcium, or something. Not these bones. They’re almost perfect. But that’s not the scary part, eh?” He didn’t wait for anyone to respond to that. “The scary part is his crystal. The university people didn’t find his crystal with his bones, eh? But after all those months and then concluding the bones were Swami’s, that crystal showed up within his jawbones a day or so after I was contacted. Yesterday, in fact. I was busy in production—”

“You know,” Jack interrupted, “it’s funny that crystal showed up the very day the witch contacted me.”

“What witch?” Mick asked.

“The old lady who told us that Swami killed Adam. That witch, remember?”

“Oh yeh, that witch.”

Having dabbled in the occult most of his life, Pordengreau was unfazed by what he heard and would soon hear.

With every band member now at the meeting, ‘that witch of the Hovels’ then shows up to tell them why the red crystal associated with Crynnwagg was not found with the bones, but mysteriously showed up at Crynnwagg’s skull a day or two before the meeting. And the truth about the red crystal, which belonged to the fallen angel, Corion, whom God had cast into ‘the Abyss’ in the ‘beforetime.’ In between her paragraphs, some band members ask her questions which do not need to be referenced here.


“…Listen to what I have learned from The Tooters. Corion is the wayward son of The Creator of All Things, the One you call God. Corion is called Satan by most. Corion is the name given the Evil by a Druidic Age sect of cannibals called the Crag-Dwellers.” She looked at Mick. “You in particular have studied them.” To all she said, “None of you, however, knows the story you must know. In the year 50 AD, before the onslaught of the Romans, the Crag-Dweller High Priest Crynnwagg was killed by a group of Druid Priests called the Legion of the Twisted Oak, his blood drained and consumed by those priests in a cup of blood. You know this and wrote a song about this called ‘Crynnwagg’s Cup of Blood.’ In your other Crag-Dweller song, ‘The Rune of Seven-Crag Mountain,’ it is told how the Crag-Dwellers tied fourteen Druid children to oak trees and burned them in retribution. What you may not know is that Crynnwagg returned from the dead by the black magic of Corion’s Demons.”

 

“So Crynnwagg returned from the dead thanks to Corion’s Demons. But before he left the Abyss in which God exiled Corion, Crynnwagg stole Corion’s red crystal sight by which Corion could see his way in the black abyss. I do not know why Crynnwagg did this. Only God knows. But Crynnwagg did this thing and returned to the world using the crystal for godly power. The greatest of these powers is immortality. Crynnwagg would live forever, so he believed. That is, he would appear to die as anyone else, but then he would arise and take the form of another.

“Eventually, his Crag-Dweller sect was defeated by, first, Roman Legions, then by Christianity, various conquerors and the Normans under William the Conqueror. During this time in the late eleventh century, the bearer of the crystal was killed in battle by a young knight, who, of course, stole the crystal not knowing its powers at first. He learned, however, and used the powers to convince the king to make him a Duke. Thus the First Duke of Effingchester was created. Through succeeding generations, these Dukes became some of the kingdom’s most powerful landowners. Then came a moody madman, the Fourth Duke. He could be quite worthy, as in 1135 when he established throughout his land holdings—which of course included Walltown—new freedoms and less taxes. But he always had a dark side. He would not emancipate his serfs. He just couldn’t do it. I don’t know why. Serfdom was disappearing throughout Britain, and his serfs knew that, too. So these poor peasants, in July, 1136, tried in great vain to win their freedom. I know this because I was there. A few blocks from here in the old Hovels. The serfs were almost victorious because many freemen, called yeomen—themselves former serfs—aided their cause. So seeing himself being defeated in shame, the old Duke used the same crystal stolen by the First Duke to summon the Corion’s Demons. It took only three of them—Gold, Silver, and Bronze Demons—to burn Walltown to the ground.”

 

“To go on. When Effingchester number four summoned those Demons, he also prayed Corion to take back the crystal. The Duke threw the crystal in the air as Corion had told him, but Crynnwagg—as the Duke’s manservant—not Corion, caught the crystal instead. This did not please Corion one bit! So Corion put a curse on the Effingchesters for eternity.”

 

“…Crynnwagg survived the ages as various people of various walks of life. As a lesser duke in 1776, he formed the Society of Luminaries. In 1879, Crynnwagg, as a socialist philosopher, founded the Ring of Our Lord Lucifer, which, like the Luminaries, believed and strove for a one-world-order under Satan-Corion. Both groups used parts of the Corionic Cross. Then in 1964, Crynnwagg, as majordomo for Baron Torquay-Lambourgeau, founded the evil Novordo Club, which rules what some today call the new order.”

Finally, since it turned out the bones found near Holyhope were in fact the bones of Swami Negran, not the bones of Crynnwagg, the band leader asked this question which the ‘witch’ answered.


“But what’s this have to do with Negran?” Jack asked.

“Negran, of course, is Crynnwagg.”

To find out how Crynnwagg morphed into Negran and others throughout history, to find out how Negran really died, and to find more mystery in The Prodigal Band Trilogy, buy the book using links from the Bookstore here.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Horror

I grew up immersed in the Horror genre, movies mostly, but also some comic books. When I was a pre-teen and teenager, some local TV station had aSaturday night movie series called “ChillerTheater.” Today that has morphed into the DirecTV and DishTV channel “The Chiller Channel” or whatever it’s called now. It was on this show series I saw “Godzilla,” “The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms,” “The Crawling Eye,” and various Japanese and other monster movies, various zombie/ghoul/vampire/Frankenstein-type monsters and serial murder movies many of which starred my fave actor at the time, Vincent Price. Basically, if Vincent Price was in the movie, I watched it.

In my twenties, I started reading horror genre fiction but I thought horror movies were more exciting. There was one book–I have no idea what the title was but it’s one of the few I actually finished reading–about some vampire-like rock band that recruits roadies or fans or whatever and then turns them into vampires, but one small group of fans turns against the band. Eventually, the vampire band gets “burned” if you know what I mean. But I did not buy the book because it had vampires, but because it had vampires who were rock stars!

And around this time, Ozzie Osbourne was making it huge…And. Oh yeah, AC-DC, “Highway to Hell” and all that…

One of the reasons I began writing the books that make up the trilogy was the notion, which has some merit but which can also be debunked, that rock stars are all “devil worshipers” and rock music is “the devil’s music” which quite a few Christians still believe is true. Many supposedly Christian YouTube channels try to verify this over and over and over while mentioning a few, such as the guitarist for MegaDeath–I forgot his name–are avowed believers in Christ (as is rapper DMX). My point is not to prove rockers are not devil worshipers; some clearly are (such as Marilyn Manson). My point is wanting folks to get over the notion that listening to rock music is going to turn one against Christ or for Satan. As if listening to country music and someone like Miley Cyrus is going to turn one to Christ!

But anyway…

To contrast the band called Sound Unltd’s beginning and rise to fame and fortune with their inability to handle it wisely later, and then the coming trials and tribulations they face, I thought it would be a good idea to bring in the most debauched period of their ‘supremacy’ in rock music. This is where the horror comes in. There are no monsters or vampires or zombies or mass murders, but it still has horror themes including ‘rituals of the craft’ if you know what I mean.

The following snippet which is a bit long comes from Chapter Six of Battle of the Band. The scene is a Hellside Horror House party for the touring band Sound Unltd given by the estate owners Andre’ and Cheetah, owners of a horror TV channel who use snakes and lizards as props on their show. Both are occultists as well. The night of the party is Thursday, July 12, 1993, in the fictitious city of Richmont, California, in the Bay Area. Band guitarists Jack and Mick (the occultist of the group), drummer Tom, singer Erik and bassist Keith are all mentioned, as well as various groupies, some of whom are wiccans, and Adam Bloodlove, Mick’s ‘partner’ and rock superstar of satanic bent.


Ring around the rosy, pocket full o’ posy

Ashes, ashes, all fall down

“A song about the Black Plague? Can’t you play a happier song than that, Jack?” Cheetah asked as she, the guitarist and six others finished the gruesome children’s rhyme.

Another asked, “What about your song, Jack? The Rune of Seven Crag Mountain? About the burning children?”

“Right. All in the name of religion. I can barely tolerate Mick’s cultist crap, let alone Swami Negran.” He readied his guitar to play the song. “But I love playing this piece.”

Jack began the music as a skuz tray was passed around.

They rounded up the young ones

And tied them to the trees,

And lit the grass.

The wood did burn

And then young skins.

You could feel the screaming breeze.

Cheetah broke in at the end of three verses. “I got an idea. Why don’t we play like the song says in the woods by our pond?”

“Let’s do it,” someone said.

 

Mick, Andre’ Cool, and Adam Bloodlove lounged in Cool’s dungeon-like bedroom, listening to the guitarist’s tales of the Crag-Dwellers.

Cool asked, “Where’d you learn these stories?”

“I formed the Druid Family. Mostly, for fun—and sex. But these people weren’t really Druids, eh? My cult’s based on the Order of the Crag-Dwellers, a secret society that lived at the time of the Druid priests. The Crag-Dwellers were cannibals.”

“No shit? Cannibals?”

“Yeh. They turned cannibal when the Druids tried to drive them out of their huts by the crags. The Crag-Dwellers believed that if they ate the flesh of an animal, they acquired the spirit and power of that animal. So, they applied that rule to people’s spirits as well. If they ate Druid priests, they acquire the Druid’s power.”

“But why did the Crag-Dwellers burn the children instead of eating them?”

Mick said cynically, “Because children have no power. So, they fried.”

“What else did the Crag-Dwellers do?” Bloodlove asked.

“Well, they also— Hey, wait a bit, eh? You know, I could show you outside. Andre’, you got a pond here, eh?”

“Yeah, about a half-mile behind the house.”

“Okay, I’ll show you what they did, and, on the way, I’ll tell you about it.”

Mick proceeded to tell the story of how the Crag-Dwellers gouged the eyes of their victims.

 

Tom, Princess Tina, and Lady Moira Sedgewick sat at a patio table on the veranda, deep in discussion.

Her Grace said, “Now, Tom, I read an editorial in CounterCulture that said due to inflation, consumers were being priced out of live entertainment. For instance, the outrageous cost of your concert tickets. And sixty bucks is outrageous.”

“Yeh, but in our case, sixty is worth it. And if what they said was true, we wouldn’t be perennial sell-outs. You know what the gripe is? A lot of acts would love to charge what we do, but they can’t. They don’t have the reputations for excellence and outrage like we do.”

Just then, a rush of singing, partying people from the solarium passed the trio. Cheetah called out, “Hey, Tina, you guys want to play Crag-Dwellers and Druids?”

“Oh, how super! You want to Moira? Tom?”

“Sounds ducky to me.” The two women got up.

“Oh shit,” Tom said. “When is that Skinny gonna get off this Druid crap?” He got up, disgruntled, and followed them.

 

“You mean, they took skewers and jabbed them into the eye sockets and wriggled the skewers around ‘til the eye popped out?” Bloodlove now couldn’t wait to play-act the scene at the south end of the pond.

“Yeh,” said Mick, “and then they ate the eyeballs. Raw. Whole. Like this.” Mick made believe he had an eyeball on his finger and stuck the finger into his mouth. “Delicious!”

“So where we supposed to get the eyes?” Andre’ asked nervously. “We’re supposed to kill something?”

“Shit, man, just a frog or something,” Mick answered. “Don’t worry, we won’t kill one o’ your lizards.”

“Gila monsters, not lizards!” Cool performed surrounded by the poisonous pet reptiles. “And I’m not killing anything!”

“Party pooper!” Bloodlove sneered.

“Come on, Adam,” Cool yelled in annoyance. “You’re just sucking up to that devil worshiper to get a record contract.”

“No. I get high off doing this. I thought you did, too.”

“I just make believe. I’ve never killed anything in my—”

“Shut up!” Mick whispered loudly. “I see a frog and I’m gonna catch him.”

“But not kill it, Mick. This is my pond, and—”

“I won’t do anything.” Andre’s hesitancy wearied Mick. “We’re just playing, Andre’. Who told you I was a devil worshiper?”

“Well, I thought you were, with all those altars at your place.”

“It’s just décor, eh? I collect Druidic artifacts and other witchy things. And you should talk, with all that ghoulish shit in your own house. Anyway, I’m not a devil worshiper.”

“Come on,” Bloodlove said, “let’s get on with it.” He turned to Cool. “We can’t waste any frogs, eh?”

“No.”

“Well then,” Bloodlove winked at Mick, “we’ll just have to kill you.”

He and Mick jumped Cool, sending the victim to the ground. Adam grabbed at Andre’s eyes.

“Get the hell off me!”

Bloodlove and Mick rolled off Cool, laughing with gusto.

Suddenly several bodies flailed at the three, chanting nonsense while grabbing at hair.

One of the new arrivals carried some twine and yelled, “Tie them up!”

The gang picked up the trio and shoved and marched them over to some trees. Mick, Adam, and Andre’, by now having been stripped to their ankles, were tied to an oak tree.

The curly blond among the gang got out his cigarette lighter and torched some tall grass under the trees, shrieking, “The Crag-Dwellers be avenged!” He gathered the others in a laughter-filled war-dance around the growing fire. “Burn the beastly Druids!” Tom’s face glowed orange by the budding blaze as he jabbed at Mick. “Skin them alive!”

Mick and the other two had enough and broke free of the bondage. “Okay, Shorty, put the fire out! Now!” The three stomped on the fire, and others used whatever devices they carried to take water from the pond onto the now smoky blaze.

Once the fire was out, Jack jibed at Mick. “So, you can’t take a joke, eh? What’s the matter? It’s you that believes this shit.”

Mick dusted himself off and snickered, “Did you have fun, Jack?”

The other laughed. “We need to do this again sometime.”

Tom joined in. “Yeh. Tomorrow night. Hey, Jack, you think we can do ‘im up during the show, a new skit?”

“Fuck you, Shorty!”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Tom, I wouldn’t waste me time with this loony lad. But maybe we can grab our road manager, tie ‘im to our monolith—”

“Aaaaaarrrrrruuuuughhhhh,” came a blood-curdling scream from the pond’s north end.

“Everybody,” Bloodlove called out, “let’s see what that is. Quietly, okay? Let’s sneak up on him.”

Some carried wooden torches as they followed the satanic singer.

Another snippet that follows continues the bizarre party scene.

“God, Erik! You sounded like you enjoyed killing that poor baby frog,” Rona pouted as she squatted down to kiss her man for the evening.

The singer, still grasping the hapless amphibian, cocked his head to face the nineteen-year-old with cascading, shiny black hair. “Haven’t you heard? I eat frogs before I make love. That way, my pecker becomes more slippery and—juicy.” He ran his tongue over his sweaty lips and whispered, “Join me, luv, in my carnal feast.”

Their lashing tongues caressed each other’s mouths.

The frog squirted out of his grasp.

“Oh, no!” Rita shouted. “My frog got away!” She looked down at the writhing couple. “I thought you killed that frog, Erik! Why’d you let him get away?”

“Because,” the singer looked at her and smiled, “some things are more important than frog’s eyes for your witches’ brew, eh? Why don’t you and Lindsay go see if you can find that frog again, and Ro and I will catch you later, eh?”

Rita, disappointed, turned away. “Fine, Erik. Let’s go Lindsay. We’ll get our own frog, and we’ll make a potion and cast a spell on the two of them.” When she looked back, a naked Rona mounted a naked Erik.

Later, a torchlight parade saw the two girls coming toward them. “Witches!” Cheetah called out. “Burn those witches!”

The gang war-whooped and swooped down on the two.

“Wait! Wait!” Rita shouted. “We’re not witches. We’re hunting witches, and we got two of ‘em over there.” She pointed to where they left the lovers.

The growing throng danced down upon the passionate twosome, who got up immediately and ran furiously toward the house, still naked.

When Erik and Rona reached the veranda—the others in hot pursuit—they shut off the outside lights, then walked silently into the pool. The darkness caused three others to fall into the water.

Then— Flash went the lights. Crash! Went the music, to begin the next party round. Splash! Went half the wasted guests into the light-sparkling refreshment.

Untouched by the ‘witch-hunters,’ Erik and Rona walked arm-in-arm out of the water toward the bath house to towel themselves, their clothes still out at the pond. When they entered the small building, they found Keith and Lolita resting limp with exhaustion on the floor.

“Oh, sorry about interrupting,” Rona apologized.

Lolita covered herself with a towel.

“No need for that, girl,” Keith snickered. “They were just leaving.”

“Fancy meeting you here, bro.”

“Oh, fancy that. You still here.”

Rona sensed trouble between the two blood brothers. “Well, that’s okay. We just came in for towels and—”

“No matter, lovely wench,” Keith said. “We’ve been here long enough. Shall we go, my precious?”

He and Lolita strutted outside to a scene of rollicking hedonism exploding to the sound of gnashing metal and ghoulish cries.

Let’s party in Hell. We make it so well!

Move over, Sweet Satan for the party in Hell!

They ran, crying, “Let’s party in Hell!” as their momentum hurled them into the water.

 

There are more horror snippets I could have included but I figure this one is long enough as it encompasses most of the chapter. Want a much more serious horror scene? Buy the book using links here:

Amazon Kindle e-book

Amazon softcover

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Google Play

Lulu and iBookstore

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Fantasy

The Fantasy genre can be defined in many ways as it mixes in with Science Fiction or Horror-Occultic or Spiritual or even Dystopian genres. But The Prodigal Band Trilogy does not take place on some fantasy world in another galaxy or another planet or another time frame, but in the modern times mostly in the time frame of late 70s to early 2000s, mostly in the UK or the US, mostly in southeast England, NYC, LA area or the Bay Area or in the fictitious city of Walltown in northeast England where the band, Sound Unltd, is from, or the Bay Area fictitious city called Richmont. Yet that’s not the fantasy part.

Both the first chapter of Battle of the Band and the first chapter of The Prodigal Band begin in the “beforetime” realm of God in heaven with the fallen angels being cast into the Abyss, and on Earth in the 1130s in Walltown, which in the year 1136 is burning, having been cursed by an evil Duke calling forth Demons to burn the residences of rebellious serfs. Meanwhile angelic forces entering the city through a portal where a three-part angelic statue is being built, come to inhabit that statue where they sit in spirit as they put out the fire. Since the statue-figures have music horns, the statue is called The Tooters.

Another force for good–truly a fantasy character–an old woman considered a ‘witch’ by the locals, Morwenna being her name, is able to channel The Tooters for the cause of good. As she is given a song that will be passed down to future generations to save the town from evil, she suddenly by divine intervention becomes young again, and is able to mate with the man who will raise a son to pass down the song for over 800 years. What can be more fantasy than a woman who grows old and young and old and young for 800 years to assure the song is passed down to what would become a ‘prophesied’ band.

Unlike previous ‘snippet’ posts with two or three snippets from one book or all three, this post will only include one snippet, from Chapter One of The Prodigal Band.


In the Battle of the Beforetime

 

Before God created mankind, He created angels, the ‘Sons of God’ as told in the Book of Genesis. Administrators—Principalities and Powers—for His plans on Earth He created. They were given powers over the creatures of the Earth according to His Will. Except the ‘Light Bearer,’ Satan, didn’t want to serve God. He wanted to be God, and God simply wouldn’t allow it. So Satan, with the ‘fallen angels,’ fought against God and His angels, lost the battle, and was cast down as far as they could be into the Abyss.

Called Satan in many instances within the Bible, God’s chief adversary had other names, such as Lucifer, mentioned in Isaiah 14. But a tribe of cannibals conquered by the Romans in 50 AD known as the Crag-Dwellers, who lived in the Craggy Mountains of Wales, called him Corion, as referenced by a Roman historian. Corion was their god. The Druids were their enemies.

 

On Earth, 1136 A.D.; In Heaven, timelessness

 

Foreordained, it was time to send the message.

So it happened that three angels took up spirit-residence within an as-yet-to-be completed granite three-part statue of winged trumpeters called The Tooters, at the north gate of a green-grass marketplace in the midst of Wall Town.

But the grass and the marketplace and the surrounding wood-dwellings wore dancing flames in rhapsody fanned by Demon breath. For the fourth Duke of Effingchester had to burn a peasant army and their homes to the ground to preserve his power over them.

A dilapidated quarter due east of the statue, the Hovels, was spared the fire, but Corion bade the Demons hold sway there. The serfs Effingchester refused to emancipate must forever be in debt.

Within the smoky pall around her, Morwenna, called by some the Witch of the Hovels with her scars of great age and scraggly gray hair, stood before huts of twig and scrap wood. In an instant her arthritic hands glowed with supernatural cure. The Tooters had told her she would survive eight-hundred-plus years to warn the chosen minstrels of Demon destruction and guide them to the Way.

“A—rock band, you say?” She laughed a wizened laugh. “Imagine! Rocks playing music. What a wonder of God!”

Morwenna then looked up in the westward direction of the voice of The Tooters. “What be their names?”

Soft and mellow, Tooter Three answered, “The Creator has told us their name. Their name will be sound, unlimited. Their sound will be of The Creator. Yet the Demons will try their evil magic with them. It will be they will fall under Corion for a way. But Our Creator has decided. It is this sound, unlimited that will minister the youth to His Will. Only then can they and the youth be prepared.”

Still wondering over her now-youthful hands, Morwenna spoke. “Yes, but—” Her voice quivered. “How will they know?”

“You will tell them. You will give them their name.”

“So I will tell them in 800 years?”

“Yes. You will grow old, then young, then old, then young. For 800 years. You will not see death until the mission God has given you and we have imparted to you, has ended.”

“But—”

“Impossible, yes. But with the All Mighty God, Maker of Heaven and Earth, and all things seen and unseen, all things are possible.”

“So, I am doing the Will of God.”

“Yes. And we, His angels, are telling you this.”

“So it is true.”

“Yes. God does not lie.”

Tooter Three then spoke to the partners. “And at the appointed time, only they will see and hear her. Morwenna is now a spirit for Good. We have given her the power to know His chosen ones and to give them an unseen guiding hand.” The spirit turned away and laughed. “To use the parlance of those future times—they won’t even know Who hit them.”

Morwenna was now a young maiden.

Nearby, a dazed lute player, not realizing he had wandered that far eastward from his usual marketplace milieu, fell prostrate from smoke inhalation. Cough, cough. He laid his instrument on the dirty ground.

A voice called to his prone form. “Minstrel, we will now give you a song. You will play it and pass it on. It will one day save the young from evil. Your bloodline will perform it.”

He sat up instantly in vexation. His name was Mollock.

Soon Morwenna approached the musician.

“Eh, fair lass,” Mollock called to her, “that song. You hear it?”

She looked toward the statue. “I know the song you mean. You are to preserve it for your posterity.”

He sat up. “Are you the giver of the song, pretty maiden?”

“Well—” He’d never believe it if I told him it was the statue. “Yes,” she fibbed, “it was me who sang it. But you will pass it on. You will give it to your son to pass to your generations.”

Startled. “Son? Young lassie, I don’t have a son.”

So she gave him one.

And that son would turn out to be the one to pass down that song, the most important song in the entire trilogy. To find out why, you will just have to buy the book. Here are all the online bookstore links you would need.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

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Links to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play and More to Purchase Books

As one can tell I am busy promoting or marketing or whatever you want to call it, The Prodigal Band Trilogy. And why not? I put in many, many hours and even years writing and formatting and having the books printed and creating covers and figuring out the most cost-effective way to get the word of my books out there, globally. I could have just chosen Lulu’s or Amazon’s e-book formats and uploaded the book myself but what if the book is just consigned to the rejection pile? Because believe it or not just because you upload a book doesn’t mean an error message won’t pop up or that the online retail outfit will do anything to help sell the book. After reading various publisher blog help posts I realized I had to get this job done with a lot of help. That is why I went with Lulu’s Publishing Service–GlobalREACH. With a little divine intervention…
Here are the links to purchase either the softcover or e-book versions:

Amazon/Kindle softcover and e-book link

Barnes & Noble/Nook softcover and e-book link

Kobo link

Google Play link

Lulu and iBookstore link softcover and e-book

Links to other softcover stores via Goodreads

Links to other e-book stores via Goodreads

I have also partnered with BookBub for marketing purposes and they will have their links up shortly to Amazon, Barnes &Noble, Kobo, Google Play, and the Apple iBookstore.

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My Goodreads Author Page for Goodreads Users

After a couple of days of miscues on my part thanks to my unfamiliarity with the book reader site Goodreads, a Goodreads helper did the ‘heavy lifting’ and turned my user page into an author page, here.

From that page one can order The Prodigal Band Trilogy from Amazon or other books sellers such as B&N, Lulu, iBookstore, WalMart (Kobo), Google Play, Smashwords and others. Both soft cover and e-book versions are available.

I also added the correct cover for Battle of the Band and also added The Prophesied Band to the book list. Thanks to whoever added Battle of the Band in the first place…I only edited the cover. And I have no idea if Amazon or anyone else is selling either one. As far as I know, one has to order either of these two books from the OmegaBooks Bookstore.

Will continue the ‘snippet’ series the middle of next week. Cheers!

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The Prodigal Band Trilogy is Now Available for Purchase on Amazon

Just found out last night while posting my e-book and print book versions of The Prodigal Band Trilogy on Goodreads that both versions are available for purchase on Amazon!

I will also be posting this link in the bookstore. That means if you have a Kindle device you no longer have to worry about conversion from EPub to MOBI, and if your Kindle version is outdated to do this. One can also buy the e-book and download it to your Kindle Cloud (which is what I did…yes I purchased my own e-book just to see if this worked, and it did!)

The e-book is $8.99 while the print book is $37.95 (but I am purchasing copies at a deep discount from Lulu to sell on my own here and in my area, but shipping will be a bit more since the book is almost 700 pages!)

I went with Lulu for global distribution, and Lulu has delivered! Thanks!

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About that Timeless Void in The Prodigal Band Trilogy: The Mathematical Basis that God Exists Outside of Time

Remember that Comedy snippet I posted a couple of weeks ago where the band members are in a timeless void ‘expecting’ some message about a ‘mission of God’? Here I provide the mathematical basis for the likelihood of such a timeless void existing. This was originally posted years ago on a Christian blog I had on Blogger.

Note: I was a high school math teacher in the late 1980s through the mid-90s.


I thank God He made me at least to partially understand some of the laws of higher mathematics and some of its constructs. Revelations! One is the construct of infinity. Infinity is a construct–that is, something derived by man to explain things man can’t explain otherwise because in reality they don’t exist apart from man’s so-called understanding. Infinity relates to the topic of Bible study because probably 99.999% of Bible-believing Christians believe in eternity, which is the analogous time-element to infinity, the mathematical construct which in higher math is the equivalent to division by zero or the tangent of a 90 degree angle (where tangent of an angle = opposite/adjacent in a right triangle…remember high school trigonometry?). Thus, eternity is like infinity, which is division by zero. Remember high school algebra? Division by zero is “undefined”; for instance, 0/3 = 0 because 3 x 0 = 0. In fact, any number x 0 = 0.But what is 3/0? Since no number times 0 yields 3, then simply put, you can’t divide by zero. And anyway, who ever heard of dividing by “nothing” (which is what the number zero, invented as a place holder, really is…nothing!)?

Now, as to the tangent of a 90 degree angle being “infinity” (which is enumerated by the sideways 8), this can be shown on a piece of graph paper using some very simple calculus, using what is called “limits”. Remember that the “x axis” on a graph is the horizontal line going across and the “y axis” is the vertical line up and down. Suppose you are graphing a point with a positive magnitude (upward side of a “right triangle”) of 6 and a positive direction (horizontal distance of a “right triangle”) of 3. So what is the angle that is made by these line 6 up and 3 to the right? The opposite side is 6 and the adjacent side is 3. Since tangent of an angle is opposite/adjacent, the tangent is 6/3 = 2. Now take out your “values of trigonometric functions” if you have one, and look under the “tan” column for tangent, and find what angle corresponds to “tan = 2” and you approximate an angle of about 63.5 degrees. Okay, now let us decrease the value of the x-direction to 1. Then you get tangent of the angle = 6/1 = 6. Looking up an angle whose tan = 6 we get to 80.6 degrees. Now let us cut the x-direction into half so that we are now dividing 6 by 1/2. We now get 12, because 6 divided by 1/2 is really 6 x 2 (remember when you divide by a fraction you “flip over” the fraction and multiply?). Since the tangent is now 12, the angle is now 85.3.

You get the picture yet? As the distance in the x-direction gets closer and closer to 0, with the magnitude in the y-direction remaining 6 (or any number), the angle increases along with the tangent of that angle. What if the angle was 89.9 degrees? The tangent is then measured to be 572.9571! What if the angle was 89.999? The tangent would be 572,957.7951! What if the angle was 89.9999999? The tangent would be 572 million, 957 thousand, 795.1! What if the angle is 89.99999999999? Well, my calculator doesn’t go that high in digits! But if it did, the tangent would probably be 5.729571 times 10 to the 150th power or something! You know, a very large number! Larger than a google!

A google is another construct because we never see or experience a number this large in reality with our naked eyes…1 x 10 to the 100th power! This is a 1 followed by 100 zeroes! To make matters ever crazier, mathematicians devised the “googleplex” to denote 1 x 10 to a google of zeroes! That is, the number “googleplex” is so large that to write such a number it wouldn’t even fit into the known universe!!!  (So sayeth Carl Sagan, who wouldn’t believe in God if God hit over the head with it!)

Okay, the calculus: As “x”, that is, the adjacent side of this right triangle, gets smaller and smaller, as “x approaches 0” defined mathematically, the tangent of an angle formed gets larger and larger until, given enough “9s” after the 89.9, the tangent approaches “infinity” so that the tangent of a 90 degree angle, where x = 0, is “defined” as “infinity” which is NOT A NUMBER OR QUANTITY, but simply man’s “enumeration” of something impossible. Something that “does not exist.” In short, “infinity does not compute”!

Take the construct out of the field of mathematics and put it into the dimension of time and you go from infinity to eternity. Now factor in the concept that God is “the beginning” or “alpha” and “the end” or “omega” and that He “always was, is, and always will be”. Everything God created including time (interestingly enough, since God created time, then time came AFTER God, then God must have existed BEFORE time, thus God stands outside of the dimension of time!) is constrained by some limit which, to human understanding–including writers of the Bible–must mean everything God created is constrained by a limit in time, but not God Himself! Since “eternity” also stands outside of time (just as “infinity” stands outside numeration and quantity), ONLY GOD IS ETERNAL because “eternity” in human understanding means “timeless”! Since God also created “hell/hades/sheol/lake of fire”, then all of these definitions used by Christianity for pain, torment, death etc., must stand within some boundary of time and thus ARE NOT ETERNAL! ONLY GOD IS ETERNAL!

 

Keep this in mind, from the Bible 1 Timothy 2:4, that God “will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth” which implies that the ‘eternity’ we think it is may not be the eternity that God knows it is.

Next up in the snippet series–Fantasy.

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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Drama

Throughout the three novels that make up The Prodigal Band Trilogy, drama is everywhere, between the six band members, between their women, and especially between a band member and his woman–with double the drama when the two are a married couple. The snippets in this post concern bass player Keith and his wife, Jarris, whom had married prior to Keith rejoining the band Sound Unltd on the cusp of their huge success.

The first snippet from Chapter 5 of Battle of the Band (all the snippets here are from this first novel in the trilogy) occurs at a bash to celebrate the ending of Sound Unltd’s banishment from their home country, the UK (if you want to find out why they were banned, buy the book!) In the midst of the party at their manager’s estate in the southeast of England, Keith sees an up-and-coming pop singer he would like to get to know for various reasons. Her name is Lisa Brent, and she is conversing with another rock singer when the bassist sees her. At some point months later, Keith’s wife Jarris notices the relationship but appears to blow it off.


February 23, 1991

 

Of all the parties celebrating the ban’s end, Joe’s Torquay Hall jamboree with over four-hundred notables beat them all. Among those making themselves known to the society and gossip press was the manager’s latest sensation, Lisa Brent, formerly a southeast cabaret singer who loved to be surrounded by gaping fans.

Keith Mullock, his leather-clad, gold-chained body parked on a velvet futon and silk pillows, now tired of the mundane questions offered by two of his London groupies. His mind wandered to the view of the sexy white-blonde diva conversing with Peter Slade.

Isn’t that Lisa Brent? She’s just starting to hit the big leagues, and she’s still looking for a new songwriter. Maybe I could just—yeh, I’d love to have someone to write songs for. What a splendid babe she is. Yeh, I’d like to—need to see her right now. If I can get her away from that bloody Slade.

He turned to his groupies. “Look, babes, I got to take care of a business proposition. Would you excuse me?”

Lisa and Slade, a twenty-three-year-old screaming rock singer with very long straight brown hair marked by a streak of blond hair cascading down his left shoulder, spoke over by the smoking room mantle.

“I heard you were forming a group with Bruce Letham,” Lisa said. “Can you handle his ego?”

Slade snorted with a laugh. “Do you know that everyone who brings that up always asks me if I can handle ol’ Brucey? That’s not the point, dear girl. The point is, can Brucey handle my ego? Shit, babe, I’m not forming Hot Bandits with him just so I can watch him grab star billing.”

“But, sweet Pete, do you really get along with him? I mean, nobody really gets along with Brucey!”

The young man from lower aristocracy couldn’t handle any woman believing he was in any way inadequate. “Well, I don’t let his jealous streaks and his obsession with riches get to me. Actually, we’re quite together now, eh?” Slade took a goblet off the wine tray. “Cheers, eh? Actually, the only problem is bass. Rob Falcone won’t leave John Mocke.”

“Of course not. They’re only best lovers.” Lisa turned away from Slade just in time to notice Keith walking toward them. “Speaking of bass players—”

Peter then turned at her cue. “Well, Keith ol’ boy, how’s the night treating you?”

With smiling black eyes for Lisa, the bassist told Slade, “The night’s not doing anything for me, eh? It’s the highs and the babes that are. You dig?”

Keith needed to get rid of Slade fast. He asked Lisa straight out, “Are you still looking for a songwriter?” Oops! I forgot to introduce myself.

“Yes, I am.” Teasing smile.

“I’m sorry, love. I neglected to introduce myself. I’ve been hanging around low-life rock musicians most of my life. I’m—”

“Keith Mullock. Of course I know you. You don’t have to introduce yourself to me, sweet love.” Her eyes glowed with fresh opportunity. “And I’m—”

“Lisa Brent. The loveliest new singing sensation around. I wondered about you when I was stuck Stateside, wanting to meet you. I’m so glad you came.”

They said Keith Mullock was a devilish rogue. But he’s also quite gallant! Totally handsome with his Adonis curls and those scars and sideburns. Soooo scrumptious. Only one thing wrong with him. He’s married. Yet maybe, just maybe— “Thank you for being sooo sweet, Keith. But listen,” Lisa said with a honeyed voice as she ignored Slade, “we need to talk business. I need a good bass player—”

“And you also need a songwriter—”

“Indeed, yes. The one I have now is—well, he just doesn’t understand my style. He won’t do bold and bruising. Just sweet and light. I need someone like—”

“Me?” Keith put his right arm around her waist and turned her toward the room’s exit. “Am I the man you need, babe? ‘Cos if I am, I will take care of you. That’s my new mission in life. Taking care of my women the way I would have them take care o’ me, eh?” He kissed her cheek. “So, babe, how can I take care of you?”

“Be my new songwriter. And be with me tonight.” She turned to his face and engorged his full lips. And my mission in life is to snare you, Keith Mullock, married or not!

 

And into a steamy summer, 1991

 

Tattle Tales “Exclusive! Keith Mullock Smooches Lisa Brent While Performing At a Theatre Homeless Benefit:  While singing her latest hit, ‘Make Me Yours,’ Lisa sauntered over to Keith playing as her bassist and patted him on his rear. They blew each other kisses, assuming no one else—especially Mullock’s wife Jarris—would notice.”

Jarris saw the pat and the kisses—or thought she did.

In the second snippet at another party given for the band while on tour of the US in the fictitious Bay Area city of Richmont, Keith and Lisa are again together but this time conspiring to undo his marriage. This is from Chapter 6.


However, as the bash reached full swing, the bassist stood with Lisa at the foot of the stairway leading to the guest rooms. She wore silver lace panties and halter top while Mullock wore his usual black leather trousers and assorted chains.

Lisa teased him. “Will you be spending time with me tonight, or do you have other plans?”

He answered with a rogue’s smile. “Will you spend time with me now? This party’s a bit of a bore, eh?”

Keith then looked around. Man, there hasn’t been a bash arranged for us on this whole bloody tour that can compare to what we could do for ourselves. And where the hell is that skuz tray? To Lisa he said, “So, what you need, babe?” Lowered her halter top and plucked on her exposed nipple.

“I want you for longer than just now.”

But he didn’t hear her as he saw a ghoulishly dressed waiter approach with the tray. “Is that skuz?”

“Yes, sir.”

Keith took a pinch in his left index finger and thumb and sniffed. Instant ego trip.

“I’m a married man. It’s gonna have to be now.” He butted his forehead against hers. “I live for now, sweet love, and what I want now is a damned good lay.” Laughing with abandon, his black eyes glowed. “You’re me lover, not me wife.”

“I don’t mean to be your wife. I mean your woman. And I want you for my co-star.”

“Co-star?” He laughed with sarcasm. “You want me to leave Sound Unltd? The world’s top band? To play second-fiddle to you?”

“No, Keith. Not second fiddle. We’ll be like Andre’ and Cheetah. We’ll be superstars together. That way, you can get out of your marriage. Isn’t that what you want?” Lisa snuggled up to him, rubbing her clothed ladyhood on his thrust thigh while he squeezed her rear.

“You know,” he said with a snort, “I’ve been thinking about getting a divorce as soon as I get back home.” He looked up and around the mock-horror expanse. “I got too much going on to be married. Should never have done it.”

“Won’t a divorce violate your Code?”

The skuz tray came by again. Keith took another pinch.

“No,” he said with a sneer. “I don’t really follow it anymore. Besides, the Code says a woman must be faithful, not the man. I haven’t been faithful in years, babe, and neither has she, eh?” He turned to her disgustedly as he remembered another excuse to leave his wife—Brent, whom Jarris just gave birth to. “Now I have a baby son I’ve barely seen, and, shit girl, I really couldn’t care less about.” Me? A father? For two weeks here, two weeks there? What the hell kinda father is that? Why’d you do that to me, Jarris? To keep me married to you? Really screwed me over, didn’t you, wife o’ mine?

They walked up the winding stairs, arms around each other in bliss.

“You’ll live with me, then?” she asked.

“Lis, I’ll buy us an eleventh century stone castle on the Isle. But I’m not leaving Sound Unltd. They’re me brothers, girl.”

Later that evening, Keith has a relationship with a groupie, and, when Lisa sees the two together outside by the pool looking out the bedroom window on an upper floor of the party estate, she fumes and conspires to get revenge on Keith. In the third snippet from Chapter 7, she plots with that other rock singer her ‘revenge’ while at a night club. But her plan was just a ruse. And when Keith’s wife Jarris finds out from a tabloid that her marriage really appears to be on the rocks, she nearly loses it! When Keith returns from tour, Jarris’ lawyer hands him divorce papers.


Swami Negran, two hours late for the start of the circus at Forkyz, had to fight through hundreds of stargazers milling outside the club. Then he had to push and shove his way through a host of silky-tanned bodies raising their fists or jutting their hips to the tom-tom honky-tonk beat of Uh-uh-oh-oh-oh-oh! Until he made it to the northwest corner. He was almost accosted by a bikini-briefed Lisa Brent and a Peter Slade in nothing but spandex shorts and Denny Spradlin’s mojo-sandals as they tried to move Keith’s skuz-wasted, pulsating body which grasped his bass in his left hand and Lolita’s bra in his right.

While the lame bassist howled and laughed through Slade’s and Negran’s attempts to prop him against the wall, Swami shouted, “This is even worse than fighting my way in here. There’s a couple o’ thousand people outside clawing to get in!”

Keith slurred loudly. “Well why the hell don’t we bloody let ‘em in? There’s room for—” Down onto the floor he fell in a heap. “Ah, shit! Get me the hell up, eh Mystic Man?”

Lisa, still acting disgusted from Keith’s perfidy the night before, snickered. “Just leave him there!” She then turned to her back-up lover, Slade. “Sweet Pete, listen to this, babe. I got a plan that’ll get us mucho headlines. Help bolster your career, eh?”

“And yours, Lisa love.”

“My career’s doing nicely, thank you!”

“So’s mine, thank you very much!”

“Oh, shut up, Pete, and listen. Both of us’ll go out there in front of the people out there—” Lisa turned to Swami. “Did you see any paparazzi out there?”

“Dozens of photographers, and some with camcorders.”

“Super! Okay, Pete, we’ll go out there and I’ll do my little act. You know, yell and scream about how Keith has betrayed me? And you escort me in your limo to the airport. I need to go on to Phoenix anyway to see my agent there about next year’s tour. I’ll meet you again when the Party Machine lands in Phoenix. Then, I’ll finish the little bastard off! How’s that sound, Pete?”

Slade answered noncommittally, “Sure, babe.”

Lisa then looked down on Keith. “Is that okay with you, you little shit?”

The bombed bassist mumbled his assent, knowing full well that the night before, he and his prime lover planned to greet each other with lavish affection aboard the jet—in full view of perplexed reporters.

Just as most of the horde of stargazers thought they’d leave the sidewalk in front of Forkyz and go home, just as reporters decided to call it a night, an enraged Lisa Brent blew out the front doors of the night club, escorted by a confused-looking Peter Slade. Seeing the mass of reporters hovering in front of Slade’s limo, she saw her chance. “Now listen to this, press boys!” she yelled for their benefit. “You can forget that goddamned Keith Mullock! We’re finished! You understand that? And you can quote me!” She stomped into the car.

Some scribes held Slade back.

“She’s just upset, eh?” he told them. “I’m just here to help her get over it.”

“What happened, Mr. Slade?”

“Listen, I can’t get into that here.”

Slade shut the door on the reporters and the limo beat a hasty retreat to the airport, where Lisa caught a plane to Phoenix, Sound Unltd’s next stop.

 

One week later at Cedar Woods

 

“Though Lisa Brent made her wounded feelings loud and clear in front of her fans at Forkyz, her rendezvous the following weekend, when she jumped into Mullock’s arms upon entering the Party Machine at the Phoenix Airport, caused tour reporters to believe a publicity stunt was at hand. But one thing’s for sure—Keith and Lisa are alive and well.”

 

Jarris read the Tattle Tales item in her parlor and blew up. First she trashed the tabloid, then the parlor.

The breaking of bone china brought her maid onto the scene. “My God! What happened, miss?”

Jarris plopped into her seat, exhausted, and broke into sobs. “I can’t take it anymore!”

“I’ll get you something—”

“No.” The redhead poked her tearful face out from her hands. “I need to be alone. I’m going up to my room.”

Once there, Jarris popped six valiums at one time.

Her maid found her lying on the floor semiconscious an hour later.

A ‘close confidant’ notified Tattle Tales of the incident, and, after her recovery, Jarris told the tabloid editor over the phone from her room, “I know it was stupid of me to do that, but I felt barraged with items of his cheating on me. I just overreacted.” Later, she told the editor, “I am considering divorce. It’s obvious our marriage hampers his bloody lifestyle, and it’s not doing me much good, either.”

Fully better and more mentally resolute for a pre-divorce battle, Jarris took her infant son Brent and moved back to her mother’s comfortable Parkside flat in Walltown.

In the next snippet Jarris, back home with her mother and sister along with her baby son, finds out that her abusive father, Gus, in prison for assault on her mother several years before, is getting released for ‘good behavior.’ Jarris remembered Keith’s promise to protect her from her brute dad if Gus ever tried to come after her again, and knew that he would come to harm her upon release from jail. But he would not protect her if the divorce went through, so he and she and the lawyers got together to try to work out some agreement.


The editors of Tattle Tales didn’t miss a beat with their World Beater Exclusive: ‘It’s True! Jarris to Divorce Keith over Love of Lisa.’ The story contained a lurid account of ‘rendezvous’ at the Isle castle called Dragonhead, once owned by a man “known as the ‘Warlock of Isle,’ who used to de-vein girls” after love making. Inside sources reported Keith and Lisa “participated in pagan love-spirit-rites” before pleasure “using candles at pentagram points and chanting pagan love-psalters, which is no surprise considering the alleged before-sex rituals of Mullock’s band mates.” A confident of Miss Brent was quoted saying, “Miss Brent and Mr. Mullock will come out of seclusion as soon as they are notified by Mrs. Mullock’s attorney of the proceedings.”

Jarris threw the open tabloid face-down on her mother’s parlor table so that Lisa’s face landed in Jarris’ coffee. “That son-of-a-bitch! Does his father know what Keith’s doing?”

Her mother, living in style now in Parkside but still wizened from past years trapped in poverty and fear of husband, said doubtfully, “And what of it? Keith’s dad was a bit of a ladies man in his day. Never mind what he says about The Code.”

“Like father, like son,” her sister Jesse said, scarfing a pastry. “You don’t have to worry what Sean Mullock says. Take my word, he doesn’t like what Keith’s up to, but he’s not about to argue with his bread and butter. You need to worry about if Gus Melby knows about it.”

Anxious at the mention of her brute father’s name, Jarris stared hard at Jesse. “Don’t you ever mention him to me again!”

“Oh, begod!” Mother anguished. “Begod, Jarris, I forgot— No, I kept this from you because this news will terrify you!”

“What news?” Jarris gripped her chair.

“We heard a month ago. The prison warden told us Gus would be released on parole in a couple of months. Good behavior.”

Jarris trembled. “And when he gets out, he’s coming straight for me, isn’t he?”

“He’s coming for all of us.” Mother got out of her chair and placed her left hand on Jarris’ shoulder. “And now that we’re all here, he can get three birds with one carving knife.”

 

Gus Melby—forty-three, bald with head tattoos and scars on both wrists from his wife’s knife swings in a dark kitchen after he broke her chin with his pounding fists three years ago—read the divorce story in his cell and wickedly smiled. “Well now, lass of mine, you won’t have your Prince Charming t’ save you now, eh?”

 

“But he’s mainly coming for you, girl,” mother said. “He has a score to settle wi’ you over your wedding he wasn’t invited to. And now’s the perfect time. He’d never think to go after you if Keith was still with you.”

Jesse sat up. “Aye! That’s it! Keith promised by The Code to protect you, eh? With dad coming after you—”

“No, Jess! Nothing will stop me from leaving that son-of-a-bitch! I can hire body-guards—” Not that I want body-guards. Keith promised me, and I want him to protect me! “—because even if that lout was still with me, he’d be so skuzzed up, he’d never know dad was taking an axe to me head. I don’t need him!”

 

“Jarris wants to make these proceedings very, very simple, and very, very to the point, Mr. Mullock—”

“Yes, simple,” said Brooks. “Simply highway robbery!”

“Mrs. Mullock has been caused tremendous anguish. Her valium overdose and all.”

“My client isn’t quite convinced that episode wasn’t just good acting. After all, Mrs. Mullock was in a movie—”

Jarris lunged for Keith, who slouched in a leather chair across from her at her lawyer’s mahogany desk. “You son-of—”

“Please!” Her lawyer barred her with his right arm. “Jarris, this will only—”

“I nearly killed myself over you, Keith Mullock!”

“Sure, babe, if you say so.” Keith laughed to himself.

“In any case,” her lawyer continued, “these are her terms. Twenty percent of Mr. Mullock’s annual income—”

“No way, man! I work too bloody hard for my money,” he looked at Jarris, “just to hand one-fifth of it to you, woman!” He turned to Brooks. “About how much are we talking about, eh?”

Brooks leaned to Keith and whispered, “According to your accountant, you should gross about twenty million pounds this year. In other words, about four mil this year.”

“Yeh, yeh,” Keith sighed. “And which estate, eh? I ain’t giving her Cedar Woods. Me studio’s there. She can have any other place.” Snickered at Jarris. “Is that good enough for you?”

“No,” she sneered back. “I also want your London townhouse. I need a place close to my cosmetics company. And two mil a year child support. It’s the least you could do for a son you never see, eh Keith Mullock? It’s the least you can do to win your freedom from married bondage so you can keep seeing those silly groupies. Besides, you’d only waste it on your skuz habit!”

“This is not an atmosphere conducive to negotiations,” her lawyer argued. “And—should I tell him, Jarris?”

“I wouldn’t dream of keeping this news from him,” she sneered. “Might make him feel guilty enough to sign the agreements. Or stop his gallivanting and come back to me.”

Her lawyer’s eyes bored into Keith’s. “You might be interested to know Gus Melby gets out of prison next month on parole and will likely come looking for your wife. Remember your Code promise protect her? If you divorce, you won’t be able to keep your promise, if that means much to you.”

Though the bassist had given up The Code for all practical purposes, his anxiety over a promise to protect a woman for whom he still felt love sent a wave of goose flesh down his sweaty spine. Keith bowed his thoughtful head. I can’t go through with this divorce now. I’m stuck! Stuck as if I’d stayed a riveter in Walltown. I want to be free of all obligations. Promises! Code! I’ll never be free of it!

Forced to reconsider, he spoke with a quivering sigh. “Ummm, look babe. A promise is a promise, eh?” Nervously toe-tapping the floor, he leaned to Brooks and asked, “Can we go with a waiting period?”

Her lawyer stood firm. “We’ll want some kind of restraining order.”

“No, wait,” Jarris said, upbeat. “I want him around when my father comes.”  Her eyes set to lay a guilt trip on him. “Will you be with me, Keith, and keep your promise?”

Humble, he slowly lifted his head with the relief of a headmaster’s pardon. “Yeh, babe, I will.” Weak was his smile. “I promise, eh?”

“And you won’t be skuzzed up when he comes?”

Keith, reminded he was overdue for his next hit, nodded with jitters. “Promise.”

As they got out of their chairs, Keith felt the awkward weight of two heavy crosses on his back, craving the skuz to throw off his burdens.

The final snippet has the brute father Gus invade Keith’s and Jarris’ fancy estate. A character that would become important later in the trilogy, Keith’s butler Rodgers, is introduced.


The Ides of March, 1994

 

Early March came in like a lion in the Cedar Woods area. A revenging angel named Gus Melby knew he needed to take advantage of stormy weather to sneak into the twenty-four room Victorian mansion where Jarris would be alone when the ‘missing’ bassist was out working, or, as Melby still believed, out ‘working’ with Lisa Brent.

Not even the fortress-like atmosphere Keith’s money bought, complete with a round-the-clock company of security guards, stopped Melby from breaking into the pantry via the garage on the night of March 14, less than a week before Mullock’s departure for North America.

At half-past nine the next morning, Melby knelt behind an opened opaque black lace-patterned drape in the morning room as Jarris and unknown voices intruded upon him. Probably servants. And no Mullock.

At half-past nine, Keith was still asleep.

Outside the house, a tall, brawny figure approached the morning room window from the east, front, wall, a pistol at his hip.

Rogers, the butler, entered with the morning mail. He placed a tray with two personal letters next to Jarris’ cup and poured her more coffee. Then the butler looked between the curtains and saw the guard walking toward the window. When he thought he saw the curtain move, he raised his eyebrows. “It’s not a terribly bad day, is it, miss?”

“Yeh.” Jarris didn’t turn around.

“So much milder than it has been. I see some trees getting their leaves, miss.”

Still she didn’t turn around. “Yeh.” She opened a letter.

The alerted butler definitely saw something move behind the curtain and began to move with open arms between her and the window.

The guard’s heavy footfall outside startled Melby. Who turned around. The pistol was drawn on him. Nowhere else to go. Melby stood up from behind the drapes into the awaiting arms of Rogers.

The guard then fired at Melby’s upper torso.

Crack!

Jarris, startled—screaming—shot out of her chair and stood terrified facing a madman struggling to grab her.

The guard fired again, this time at Melby’s head, and missed.

Keith woke with the first shot, flew out of the bedroom in cotton shorts, rode the stairway railing down with the second shot and intercepted another guard rushing into the hallway leading to the parlor. First the bassist and then the other guard zoomed into the room.

While Keith grabbed Jarris and flung her to the floor leaving Melby wide open, the second guard blew away the assailant’s chest.

Jarris, her head hidden under Keith’s protective body, heard the body of her father thud on the carpet. She asked her man with a frightened voice, “Is he dead?”

Tender sweet whispers expressed Mullock’s relief, his thanks, and his renewal of breathtaking love for a woman he’d wronged. “Yes, he is, love. And you’re safe forever and always. Thank God you safe. And you always will be, my love. I’ll never leave you again.” He caressed her life.

Yet, after tender minutes, he stared into space. But what of my childhood vow to kill him?

Talk about drama!

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

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Conspiracy? Talk About Evil Characters!

A great big oooops! here. The Prodigal Band Trilogy has lots of evil or bad guy characters, but I never listed them in the original post about evil characters! In going through past posts I realized I never posted this list of evil characters! Sorry about that! So here goes…

In a previous post here that was posted last December,  I explained that since the overriding theme of my series is the battle of good vs. evil, there had to be an evil side as well as a good side, and that the evil side would seek to rule the world in order to set up for the Biblical ‘end times’ and the coming of ‘the anti-Christ’ to deceive the world and especially those who claim to believe in the coming Messiah. So that this evil could rule the world, the world must be united and in peace under a global system (called ‘the Beast system’). I have no specific idea exactly what this system will look like, but, as it is a system set up by the arch-deceiver (the ‘anti-Christ’), it will be a deceptive system that will deceive many and cause some believers in Christ to ‘fall away.’

Who will usher in this evil? The most likely group of people who will do this according to Satan’s agenda are the world’s elites, the powerful and wealthy, because they would be the obvious choice for such a task–they love money and power, for the most part, above all. Who else would Satan choose? Satan is the fallen angel who wants to be like God and actually be God (see Isaiah 14 and ‘the five I wills’)–in other words, Satan seeks power. And who has the most power on Earth? Those with the most money, and those who control the money, are the most likely people to be used by the evil to thwart the good. These are the owners of the private banking cartels as well as the world’s central banks; for instance, the Rothschild banking dynasty. Further, those with lots of power and money are much more likely to believe they are entitled to control everything, including popular culture. Popular culture is one way the evil side is able to ensnare the world’s youth. This is especially true in a world in which even the good side has been corrupted and confused and thus much less likely to ‘call the youth’ to Christ.

There are two aspects to this side, the spiritual and the physical or reality-based. Spiritual darkness and its human minions that do its bidding.

The spiritual darkness is led by a fictitious ‘Celtic god’ called Corion, the name of which is based on the configuration of the Dragon Constellation in which the Pleiades star system and Orion’s Belt (as part of the Orion system) are located; Orion is on the outskirts of the Dragon and looks as if it is ‘fighting’ the Dragon. The fictitious ‘Satan’ figure is named ‘Corion’ based on its connection to Orion. But here’s the thing–I did not know any of this when I ‘made up’ this character name! I truly believe God led me to call this evil by this name. Corion, who was cast into an Abyss by God after the fallen angel rebellion against God failed, is aided by three Demons:  Gold, Silver, and Bronze. To ‘see’ in this dark Abyss, Corion is given by God a ‘red crystal sight’ that is eventually stolen by the spirit of a dead High Priest of a fictitious Celtic cult in Wales that was conquered by the Romans around 50 AD. (Note: While Emperor Claudius did conquer Briton proper and the Celts there, I do not know how far this conquest covered Wales. The Emperor Hadrian had the famous Hadrian’s Wall built just north of the Tyne River many years later to keep out the unconquerable Scots (Picts))

The name of this High Priest is Crynnwagg (an actual Welsh name) and Crynnwagg’s cult is called the Crag-Dwellers (crags are rocks or rocky structures). The famous Druids of Wales (the supposedly Satan figure here is Samhain, a leading figure in the Hallowe’en rituals and is of Druid origin) are enemies of the Crag-Dwellers, who eat captured Druids and drink the Druid blood, thus are cannibals. After Crynnwagg steals the red crystal from Corion within the netherworld, Crynnwagg returns to life using the power of the crystal and whose spirit keeps on inhabiting different people through history for well over 800 years. Two prominent characters the evil spirit of Crynnwagg takes over through the power of the crystal are Swami Negran from India, and Cole Blessing, an American healer. Note that I chose a man from India for this since New Age cult leaders of the past have come from India. It is Negran and Blessing that ensnare my fictitious rock band Sound Unltd into doing their dirty work on the youth, in return for fame and fortune and all the trappings thereof.

There are five prominent human men who serve the spiritual darkness, and, just as the globalist ‘new world order’ being ushered in today is led by various supposedly ‘secret’ societies such as the Bilderbergers and others, my fictitious globalist secret society is called the ‘Novordo Club’ (Novordo stems for the ‘Novus Ordo Seclorum’ theme on the dollar bills and means ‘New World Order’ or “New Order of the Ages.’), as well as the fictitious UN body called the ‘World Youth Cultural Council’ which seeks youth culture conformity and a supporting NGO foundation called the ‘World Community Artists Foundation’ comprising youth culture celebrities who support globalism. Then there is the spiritual arm of this grouping called the Hellians (prominent in The Prodigal Band) and its subgroups, two of which are called ‘the Slake of Satan’ and ‘the Inner Sanctum.’

While various groupies and even fellow rockers are in these groups, the five prominent men that ‘rule the world to Corion’s specification’s are as follows:

Baron Torquay-Lambourgeau: No disrespect for the English town of Torquay and the residents of today’s French province of Normandy where (from my research) the name ‘Lambourgeau’ is fairly prominent. This character heads the evil secret society the Novordo Club as well as the Hellians, is the son of a blood-drinking Vlad-the-Impaler-Count-Dracula-type Satanist, and whose son, who has disavowed evil, is the manager of the fictitious band Sound Unltd. He has a direct line to the evil god Corion and is one of the chief minions. He is also a banking cartel owner and somewhat based on the leaders of the Rothschild banking dynasty. Due to the conquest by William of Normandy in 1066 of England, I thought it was only proper to make this character of Norman descent.

Marty, the Duke of Effingchester: This fifteenth Duke of Effingchester is a direct descendant of the evil Duke who, in 1136 AD, called on Corion to send Demons to burn his city to the ground in order to put down a peasant revolt. In the 1100s through the 1300s, England had many peasant revolts as serfdom was heading by the wayside to be replaced by farmers called ‘yeomen.’ In return for the Demons putting down the rebellion, this Duke was forced to give a blood oath to the god of evil while being forced to keep the defeated serfs ‘forever in debt.’ Finally, the name ‘Effingchester’ is indeed based on a certain cuss word!

Paul Xavier, Mr. X: ‘X’ is a music and media mogul who owns Time Communications, one of the world’s largest media conglomerates (it is not co-incidence that the name ‘Time’ is used. Not insulting Time Magazine, however, even if it is one of the more well-known mainstream media organs.) ‘X’ is a top member of the Novordo Club and Hellians.

Haikaru Yakimoro, Mr. Y: ‘Y’ is Japanese, and, because Japan is Asia’s most westernized nation and a tech giant of sorts (Samsung, Toshiba, and connected to SONY–a record label that has under its belt some of Asia’s best known rock bands such as the Gazette and others), I decided to make this character Japanese.

Rodney Davis: It is fairly well known that touring rock bands, using their roadies, “muled” drugs while on tours for organized crime, Mafia-like drug bosses, and the like in the 60s and 70s. At a Led Zeppelin gig at Madison Square Garden in NYC in 1971, I remember seeing roadies and others selling marijuana and cocaine and perhaps other drugs to gig audience ticket holders before the concert began, and someone in one of the mezzanines we were in tried to sell us illegal drugs. (Not picking on Led Zep here, but this really happened!) Rodney Davis was an American who worked for a Mafia drug lord who forced my band to “mule” drugs in order that they would “secure” their success. The movie “Roadies” starring rocker Meatloaf as well as Blondie and others, also goes into this issue of mule-ing drugs.

Finally, Corion uses three humans as direct conduits for evil purposes:

Swami Rashnish Negran: Negran is from India and is reminiscent of a certain cult leader who had some influence with certain 60s rock bands. Negran dupes my fictitious band Sound Unltd into his “Church of the Circle of Unity” cult. In fact many celebrities are members of New Age and other “religious” cults but have royalty-type status, thus treated ‘like gods’ unlike lesser members (such as a former friend of mine) who were treated like garbage and are forced to work for long hours for virtually no pay! Corion uses Negran as his main conduit, using the stolen ‘red crystal sight’ mentioned earlier.

‘Doctor’ Cole Blessing: A phony healer, an American, who leads one of Negran’s ‘churches,’ cajoles the wife of a band member into become his disciple, and uses fakery to “cure” another band member’s wife of cancer. Eventually, Blessing takes over the cult. While Negran is integral in Battle of the Band, Blessing is the lead bad guy in The Prophesied Band.

Mark Besst: A Brit and a tech company mogul who eventually (in The Prodigal Band) takes Cole Blessing’s place and doesn’t need the red crystal because he is inhabited by the Corion spirit of evil–at his own request. I called him ‘Mark Besst’ because it resembles the Biblical notion of the ‘Mark of the Beast.’ As with the others Besst acquires the band’s friendship and confidence and eventually takes over not only the cult, but the conspiracy as well. Besst uses three minions, ‘Beast,’ ‘Trenchcoat,’ and a phony Christian preacher called Reverend Ike to do his dirty work.

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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Conspiracy

When I began writing the trilogy in the early 1990s was when various news reports of “militia movements” and “far right” “patriot” groups began hitting the mainstream media, highlighted by the incident at Ruby Ridge, Idaho, and the take down of David Koresh’s Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas. Then, a year before I published Battle of the Band, the first book in the trilogy, the Oklahoma City bombing happened. All of these events saw standoffs of sorts between some so-called patriot group and the Federal government. These and other incidents led many to start spouting “conspiracy theories” about a “new world order” group some called “the Illuminati” as well as secret societies ruled over by “dark forces.” I am not posting this to claim if these theories are true or not–I will leave that up to the reader.

But these theories and elite groups mentioned in the trilogy provide the counterpoint to the “good” side that the fictional rock band called Sound Unltd eventually sides with, having seen the “evil” side. Further, there are groups of elites in think tanks and secret societies, some considered satanic, that actually exist. Some of these groups and secret societies are fairly well-known. Finally, it isn’t just worldwide governments, economies, media and entertainment that these elites rule over. One snippet concerns control of weather and physical structures.

The first snippet introduces the characters that make up the fictional rock band the novels are about and also introduces the primary antagonists that conspire to use the band for their evil purposes. As with ‘the powers-that-be’ that many now know belong to secret societies, the evil-doers, in one of their secret meetings, discuss why the band was chosen, and in the process introduce the band characters. The last part of this snippet is rated R and was not included in the previous citation. (Previously linked here) A similar dialogue between these conspirators later in the book introduces the point man of the conspiracy, called Swami Negran, a New Age guru cult leader of sorts.


A small group of exceedingly powerful men sat in red plush chairs surrounding a polished mahogany table. In front of each participant lay grey leather folios that displayed the gold-leaf embossed symbol of the Novordo Club—a pagan cross radiating from a sun-circle encasing an s-like snake. The Demons watched over the assembled luminaries.

“See these men of Our Lord Lucifer?” Silver Demon said. “Their agenda bears our Corionic Cross which The Creator banished from His realm. The red crystals around their necks prove their allegiance to us. Whoever wears or minds those crystals of Our Lord shall heed our cause to own this small planet.”

“Their governments are implementing our political, financial, and social programs targeted by Our Lord for placement. This group of leaders will discuss how they will control the culture of the young of this world.” Gold Demon then whispered as if the men below might hear them. “It is today they will choose our troubadours of the new generation. Of course, we will make sure they choose our boys of the spoken-pact two years ago.”

Some of the men left the oak-paneled room to attend other Novordo Club meetings involving environmental policy. Those involved in deciding who would lead the world’s youth remained. These included Baron Torquay-Lambourgeau, head of the world’s largest banking cartel; a forty-two-year-old record mogul; and two media kingpins, Mr. X and Mr. Y.

“Talent manager Joe Phillips, that is, my wayward son,” the Baron said, “has a five-man band of ill-repute that has the talent-skills, the charisma, and the desire to succeed where all others must fail. More than anything, my son says. More than anything will this group perform to impassion the youth into a frenzy of hero-worship.”

The record mogul asked, “Are you referring to Sound Unltd? They’re not exactly a hot act right now.”

“Who the hell cares?” Mr. X asked. “Isn’t it us who decide who will own popular entertainment? That they aren’t now the top band is all the more reason to go with them. They’re obscure enough so as no one will ever guess our motivation for picking them.”

“They truly have it all,” Mr. Y said. “Their singer-lyricist Erik is, pardon the expression, a godsend. Matchless voice, and even better, his naughty operatics and pyrotechnics on stage drive girls and boys into the lap of devilish fanaticism. He lived in great poverty after his hated father abandoned his family and later died. This one’s in it primarily for the money.

“Their guitarist-composer Jack is already of hero-quality with his screaming guitar style. He led a street gang and demands perfection and unity from the others. He’s in it for the glory. Coincidentally, my agents told me that the guitarist believes he made a pact with Our Lord Lucifer for success. Both the singer and guitarist are handsome rogues with model-gorgeous girlfriends, perfect for the idol image both of them must project.

“Mick, their current bassist, is skinny with a beak for a nose and a long, pretty face surrounded by dark-brown hair ringlets down his back. He was sexually abused by his mother and neglected by his father. He’s in it for the perversion. A cultist who wears our symbol of the old Celtic Crag-Dwellers of the Craggy Mountains of Wales.

“Bryan, their keyboard synthist, is a bulky biker with bushy red hair and associates with bikers. He made his girlfriend pregnant last year and felt obliged to marry her. Reggie Lewis, a top studio musician, is helping him build a keyboard-effects synthesizer. He’s in it for the ride.

“Their drummer Tom lives with clairvoyant Prissy Wyatt and pretends to channel the god Corion for amusement. His father is indentured to the Duke of Effingchester. The young curly blond doesn’t know this. He’s in it to find out.

“Later, a sixth member, a Warwicke’s Ship Works riveter named Keith will rejoin them on bass. A strict follower of the outdated Code. But his dad was a womanizer. Like father, like son. He’s in it for the women.

“When the sextet is formed, they will be unstoppable.”

“So,” the mogul said, “you’re saying Sound Unltd won’t have any trouble winning over multitudes of fans? They’re that good?”

“My son thinks they’ll have an impact greater than any band before them,” Baron Torquay-Lambourgeau said, “and my agents, who do disparage their obscene antics, by the way, agree with my son. They’re fit to rule youth culture in the nineties. Sound Unltd stands for money, glory, perversion, self-interest, sex. You know, naked power at any price. Other acts will compete with them, but it has been decided.”

“You have decided, Baron,” the record mogul said. “I’ve never seen their so-called raunchy antics. How do I know Sound Unltd can best harness the basest desires of the young?”

Mr. X placed a cassette on the table. “The best I can do right now is to show you this video of a live performance at XanadU.” X put the tape into the VCR. “Not another band in the world does the routines these boys dare to do, though many come close.”

Music of raw, slow, hot passion set even middle-aged hormones ablaze.

The record company man watched and listened in titillated awe.

The first scene showed Erik singing with his hands down his skin-tight leather trousers.

Rub me, suck me, tease me, (bleep)

Then, with his exposed hands about his genitals, he humped a mic stand while moaning in climax.

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ooooh, baby, (bleep) me dry

In the next scene Mick and Jack, on either side of Erik, jabbed their guitar necks into the singer’s awaiting rear. Scene four showed Jack and Mick flicking their tongues together as their bodies rubbed. Finally, Erik and Bryan butted each other’s rear-ends together atop the synthesizer which quickly exploded into red flames.

“These boys’ll do anything to rouse a crowd, won’t they?”

“That’s the point,” the Baron said. “They’ll do anything. The guitarist, their band leader, will drive them to greatness. Kids today don’t buy a product strictly on industry hype. The younger generation will follow them precisely because they are great.” Baron Torquay sipped his water. “And so, are we agreed about Sound Unltd?”

Each nodded. Each red crystal glowed heart red.

Torquay adjourned the meeting. “Let us now end the discussion with a prayer to Our Lord Lucifer.” The rotund aristocrat began the affirmation. “We are ever in service to you, god of darkness born in light. Your realm of power and pleasure shall purchase all who bear your light-cross symbol.”

The second snippet, narrated by pop culture pundit Jay Elliot, concerns a freakish physical earth event and the weather that coincides with an archealogical dig in the Welsh mountains sponsored by band album producer and guitarist Mick, a fan of the occult and Druidic lore. This comes from Chapter Seven of The Prophesied Band. Elliot calls Mick to find out more about this incident, which both consider some kind of conspiratorial event.


Summer, 1998

 

Now the preachers were sure of it. Seven years of tribulation were upon us. Half-way through this period in which Apocalypse’s fabled four horsemen—war, famine, pestilence, and death—would ride roughshod over sinner and saint alike, the Anti-Christ would reveal himself. All but the most devout of God would fall under his evil spells.

Until finally the Messiah would come again to save the devout.

People were urged to buy video- or audio-taped ‘wills’ for those ‘left behind.’ Some new-agers prepared welcome sites in deserts for enlightened ‘visitors’ in ‘rainbow ships’ whom would allow them to reach their ‘tenth consciousness.’

And those who would wait out the tribulation until the Second Coming or go down fighting some nebulous ‘new order’ of ‘illuminated ones’ dug in with guns and butter. Membership in militias, according to various cable news networks, grew into the millions. Media darlings as well as media outcasts warned of states of emergency almost daily. Race riots spread from city to city.

I was driving home to my new place by the Pacific waters—a secluded home I bought in a high-rent area a couple of months ago to escape a Richmont nearing ravage—wanting to turn off the radio as Reverend Ike Lawson exhorted for the hundredth time that day that we should read our Bibles. But I’m glad I didn’t. Next on the radio was this amazing bit of news.

“Would you believe an earthquake in Wales?” folksy syndicated radio columnist Paul Harvard asked rhetorically. “It’s true, folks. A five-point-fiver hit today in the central Craggy Mountains of Wales not far from an archeological dig for the nineteen-hundred-and-fifty-year-old bones of Crynnwagg, one High Priest of the Druidic Crag-Dweller sect. Dig sponsor Mick Pordengreau had this to say, ‘We’d been having problems finding any evidence of his bones for months. But we knew he was buried in this area. I truly believe this earthquake is a sign that we’ll find them.’ Never mind that an entire village was levelled.”

Cute, Harvard, cute.

When I got home at seven that evening I couldn’t keep my hot little fingers from dialing Mick at Holyhope, a full nine hours of time ahead of me. I knew he hardly ever slept until just before daybreak.

“Is that earthquake for real, Mick?”

“Shit, Jay. Me phone’s been ringing off the hook for an hour. I just started to sleep, eh?” He sounded tired and irritated. “Yeh, it’s real. And it killed twelve people so far. I’ve gotten several calls from charities begging me to give ‘em a big load o’ bread for their earthquake funds. But I’ve already told the town leaders I’m donating whatever money they need. A lot of these folks helped out with the Crynnwagg dig, and with a couple o’ videos the band did earlier this year.”

“The two Crag-Dweller songs on Seccond Coming.”

“Yeh. These are good people here. You know they never hassled me about my lifestyle. We get along.”

Of course it’s not every day a remote Welsh village has a world-renowned musician-producer in their midst, even if a bit kinky. But his Crynnwagg dig very much put the town on the map, and money in their tiny gift shops.

“So,” I finally asked, “did the earthquake help you find the bones?”

“That they did. Or at least we’re speculating they’re his bones. Crynnwagg was known through legend to have had tibia bones much longer than they should have been.”

“Long-shanks.” Which reminded me of a long-ago English king.

“Yeh.” Snort. “And like Swami Negran, too. Little murdering bastard!”

By this time the word had gotten out that Negran was the one who did in Adam Bloodlove. Mick made sure of that. But no one could bring the Indian mystic to justice. The man supposedly had been killed by a Christian radical in a so-called car crash.

“And no one can find his red crystal,” I said.

“Joe thinks his father and his elitist cronies hid the crystal somewhere and they’re using it. I mean, all the crap with the weather. Shit, Jay, southern England’s drying up, and they’re literally drowning in Walltown. Jack and Keith have been up there about a month now. They think they’ve found some Code manuscripts in an iron vault, but they can’t open the vault until it stops raining. And who the hell ever heard of earthquakes in Wales? Torquay and them are definitely screwing around with the weather.”

I laughed, especially since he had no proof. “You sound like those militia-types we have here in the States.”

The third snippet from The Prodigal Band, Chapter Eight (Chapter Ten in the PDF version) features the same group of evil-doers but with newer members making plans to deal with the band which appears to be reneging on their original “oath” to the forces of evil.


Inner sanctum of the Hellyon Society at Torquay Hall, June 14, 2001

 

A glowing hot ring of fire embedded within a pentagram and reflected in the faces of Torquay, Effingchester, Rodney Davis, Messrs. X and Y and eight others as they stood, in black robes with black hoods covering their foreheads, in a circle surrounding the fire. They held up crystal goblets filled with a blood red wine.

“To Cole Blessing,” Torquay began the toast. “He served us well, and he put the planet, and Our Lord Lucifer, above everything else. He served our cause to the fullest.”

They clinked glasses.

“Being impaled on a bedpost!” Davis snickered. “Crap, if I wanted to kill somebody—”

“You always want to kill somebody,” Effingchester scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Marty, but I wouldn’t have picked him up and put him through a bedpost. Anyone know who did it?”

“None of us,” X said, “and, as far as I know, everyone who knew Blessing has already been cleared. I personally think it really was an accident.”

“Right,” Davis sneered, “just what the media says.”

“And who do you think told them to say that?”

Murmurs all around, some muffled laughter.

“But Blessing isn’t why we’re here, you know?” Davis had no love lost for the spirit healer of the St. Xenos ashram. “It is past time for us to have gained the complete and total allegiance of Sound Unltd. Way past time!”

“We have their allegiance,” Y said. “We’ve had their allegiance since Swami Negran inducted them into the Circle of Unity.”

“Right!” Davis grew angry, trashed his cup, and stomped out of his point into the center of the pentagram, by the fire. “That’s a load of crap! I know for a fact that they stopped following the Circle of Unity since those heart attacks of theirs. I know for a fact that they’ve repudiated Negran since Mick found out Negran killed Adam Bloodlove. I also know for a fact that instead of following Blessing, they went chasing after the meaning of that blasted Walltown Code, have communicated with someone called the Witch of the Hovels and have had miraculous messages from that Tooters statue of theirs! Now, does anyone here really think that Corion is pleased with our piss-poor efforts? We were supposed to have them signed, sealed, and their souls delivered by now. I guarantee it, he was not at all pleased with Cole Blessing’s botching of that job. The same way he was not pleased with Swami! And I, for one, don’t want to wind up in their shoes!” The promoter was livid now, flailing his arms. “We’ve got to do something! Now or never!”

Marty then stepped out to commiserate with Davis. “I admit we haven’t been on our guard over them. But that miracle business will soon be forgotten if it hasn’t already, and those six will get back to normal. At this point, Rod, they couldn’t leave all their wealth and power behind even if they wanted to. They are wedded to the elite just as surely as we are.”

“But they need to take the oath, Marty. They need to come right in here, drink blood, sign the oath in blood, do the ceremony just like all of us have, and then I’ll know—we’ll know—that they belong to Corion and Our Lord Lucifer. Then we’ll know that we’ll be side by side with him when he comes back to rule the world. Then we’ll know that Corion won’t gnaw on us forever!” Davis was now pleading in desperation. “We have got to get them in here! One by one in chains if we have to, but we have to prove to Corion that we mean business!”

“So how do we do that without exposing ourselves?” Torquay, usually assured of every Novordo plot, was now at a loss and nervous about being at a loss. “We can’t kill them until they’ve signed the oath. And scaring them into signing an oath would tip them off.”

“What ‘tip them off’?” Davis would have no excuses. He faced down Torquay. “Tip them off to what? They have no idea about what we want them to do. The ‘tip off’ as you put it comes when they are threatened with losing all that money and power they’ve acquired. That we’ve allowed them to acquire! They either sign on, or we wipe them out financially and any other way we can come up with. Maybe a few accidents, you know what I mean?”

Effingchester stepped back into the circle. “We must never soften our stance, you know. We must screw them over until it is done. And their women too, you know. They must suffer also. And their children. And their families. They must be ruined. Completely and utterly.”

“Works for me,” X said. “Too bad. They’ve always had such productive unit-sales.”

Y concurred. “Yes, they really know how to make a hit. They’ve got the most loyal fans in the world. It really is too bad we have to lose them.”

“Well,” Davis said, “it’s either them or us. That’s all there is to it.”

Now, if you want to know what this conspiracy involves, you may just have to buy the book–no spoiler alerts this time!

You can purchase the entire The Prodigal Band Trilogy at my author spotlight page here!

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

 

 

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Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Comedy

Everyone has their definition of “comedy” because everyone has their own sense of humor and everyone has their own idea of what is “funny” and what isn’t, which could also include satire (which I will deal with later…in my opinion there is more satire than comedy in these three books that make up the trilogy.)

The first example also includes some slapstick…well, that’s my opinion anyway. This example is found in the final chapter of Battle of the Band and comes right before another category I just added to the series, Tragedy.

While creating videos for a new video marketing company in their home town, Walltown, the singer (Erik) and the bassist (Keith) are leaving a pub called the White Horse Pub and heading back to the tour bus so as to get ready to party somewhere else high on a designer drug called skuz. It is evening in early February, 1996. Both were drunk on whiskey, but Erik more so–he was trying to drown his self-pity over his wife’s (Ger) supposed “betrayal” in that she never told him she was bulimic. She was a TV hostess as well as supermodel. Note:  I have heard and read in magazine articles that many supermodels as well as models, to keep their weight down, turn to eating disorders such as bulimia or anorexia.


Two-and-a-half hours and uncounted whiskey shots later, Keith, himself swaggering drunk, had to support his blood brother as the two swayed back to the bus parked by the alley site.

It was almost eight o’clock when the singer finally told himself he’d drunk enough for the blues to swim away. Now, he needed something to pep himself up so that, maybe, he and his brother rogue could go out and party somewhere else.

Keith had just the something—a hit of skuz. Or two. Or three.

Moments from the van, Erik fell into Keith’s chest. “Am I gonna make it, bro?” He slurred. “I can barely—”

“We almost there, eh? Just a wee bit, eh? Get the hell of me!” The besotted bassist held him up. “Shit! You a ton o’ dead weight.”

Ten more tortuous steps. Slam! Erik’s body hit the back door of the van.

“Hold on to the handles, eh bro? Gonna open the door in front, eh? Then I’ll figure out some damned way to get you in.” Keith rounded the van. “Why the hell I let you drink so much? And now you gonna need a whole packet of skuz to get you right.” He entered the van, cussing at himself. “Nice going, eh Keith?” Nearly tripping over the black bags in the aisle way, he kicked them to the side, yelling, “Move your bloody bag next time, eh Bry? Little—big!—shit screws his back, so he thinks he can leave his bags wherever the hell he feels like. Up yours, Bry!”

Erik banged on the back doors. “Open the goddamned door, Keith! Bloody cold out here!”

“Wait up, bro.” Tripping over the handle of Jack’s ever-present portable amp—“Get the hell off me!”—Keith’s head accidentally slammed into the inside back doors. Cusses galore.

Erik, about to fall down, yelled, “Stop your bloody cussing and let me in, Keith!”

“Hold your goddamned balls, Erik! Bloody door won’t open.”

Wham! Erik crashed backwards into the van as Keith kicked open the back door.

Five minutes and a cavalcade of cussing later, Keith had Erik within, the singer sprawled atop the amp, his own bag as well as Jack’s and Tom’s, nearly out like a dead lightbulb.

“I found it, bro. Skuz. Good for what ails you, eh? Right here in the side pocket o’ me bag. We fix you up.”

The whiskey-soaked singer barely found his thick voice. “I’ll prob’ly need—” His voice trailed off into slumber.

In the second example within Chapter Three of The Prophesied Band is found the women of four of the band members, by then married to these members. Laurie is married to guitarist Jack; Jarris is married to bassist Keith; Ger is married to singer Erik; and Mo is married to keyboardist Bry. Also mentioned is Bry’s synth-building partner, Reg Lewis. Some groupies are also mentioned, Peaches and Artesia. The scene begins (narrated by a pop culture journalist) with the women exiting a heliport atop the hotel and heading to their men’s fancy suite rooms. Meanwhile, a groupie, knowing Ger is coming, tries to get Erik to let her go before Ger shows up but he keeps her there on purpose. When Ger enters the suite a round of ‘verbal judo’ ensues. Later, during a band concert, the four women are off-stage, but close enough to the performing band, and are smoking a joint, discussing what happened when they had arrived at the fancy hotel in New York City that day to be with their men. They are trying to “one up” each other, which was standard operating procedure for this foursome.

Warning: the following is rated R.


And then there were the women:  blonde-bombshell-turned-mommy Laurie Koolig; fiery red-head cosmetics tycoon Jarris Mullock; Ger Manilow, Britain’s top super-model; and wavy red-head Mo McClellan. Since they couldn’t join the tour in Los Angeles, it had to be New York City. As in the luxurious New York Wynworth Hotel, The Club, and The Studio—where, for a fifty-thousand dollar membership and all the skuz you could snort, you could engage in foreplay as you and your date strolled past hundreds of milling wanna-bes and gossip hounds.

Besides, the Richmont Port Authority wouldn’t let a hired helicopter land at Richmont Speedway. It wouldn’t have been in good taste for the one in New York to refuse the same request from four of the world’s most glamorous females, so a whirlybird from a local airport arrived atop the Wynworth one roasting afternoon in mid-June.

Must have been sweltering weather for the girls. They all wore their most alluring sables.

I doubt if Ger’s racks of ice around her neck, waist, and wrists cooled her off. But that’s okay. She needed to be in the Big Apple anyway to do her Diamond Girl video. Rumor had it the world’s top supermodel, back in form after birthing her son Alec, wanted to upstage her rival.

She definitely upstaged New York’s most bodacious groupie, fiery red-head Peaches La Crème. Next to Rona, no Fun Girl could enflame Erik Manning’s manhood as the freckled former street-tough with Brooklyn accent to match.

But Ger was his something. The consummate pro at seduction. Her sultry eyes and voice, her Southern-Belle-ish smile played to enthrall the male race. Of expensive means, that is. She allowed no serious competition.

 

Having thrown a tawny-colored mink-and-leather wrap on her left shoulder, Peaches turned to leave the singer’s room.

Wearing a towel around his lower torso, Erik came out of the bathroom with a sigh. “It’s that time already, eh?”

She opened the bedroom door into the suite lounge and noticed the clock on an antique ornate table. “It’s past time, after two.” Turned to him with plaintive blue eyes. “I better get the hell outta here before Ger comes.” Out the door.

He briskly went after her. “Wait a bit, babe. One more hug, eh?”

Ger, and then the others, stepped out of the down elevator onto the Deluxe Suite floor.

Several wet kisses and squeezes. Peaches tried to push him away. “I gotta go, sweet love. She’s gonna walk in—”

“So what?” Grabbed her tightly. “What she gonna do?”

Ger opened the grand suite double doors.

“Well, I don’t—” Peaches, within his caress, turned her head around at the whoosh of the opening doors. Mouth opened.

Her eyes firing lava at the groupie, Ger cocked her head and seethed with stiffening body. That Peaches bitch! You kept her ‘til now on purpose, didn’t you, Erik!

“I’m outta here.” The blushing red-head almost shot out of the lounge, hastily passing Laurie, Jarris, and Mo, who stood at the doorway waiting for a scene.

For effect, the brunette whipped the carpet with her sable. “God, Erik! Didn’t you remember I was coming at two?” Sneer.

But Manning was too manly to be cowed by her play at wrath. He coolly glanced at the clock opposite the door. Two-twenty. Then slowly turned his head back to her with mockery. “Yeh, babe, at two. Just where the hell you been?” Snort. Then he went into his room, leaving the page-boy styled model there to stew in her vain possessiveness.

For her singer was the only man in the world who could put her back in her place. She’d never be above him.

That was why, with her plethora of tasty young lovers, she’d never put any of them ahead of him.

She picked up the sable, looking sidelong back at the girls as they entered the suite. “Sorry about that.”

Jarris looked her in the eyes. “Don’t apologize to us, girl.”

The others went to their men, and Ger went to hers. Humbled, she stood, sable, diamonds and all, in his doorway waiting for a pardon.

Propped on pillows, he lay naked outstretched on his bed. Victorious smile. “So like I’ve waited three months for you, and you just standing there sheepish?” He slapped the bed. “Get that gorgeous ass of yours over here.”

Her will to conquer him returned. On her way to his pulsating fruit, the bed would have come alive for her passion.

 

That night off-stage during the show at a nearby stadium

 

“So, Ger, what happened after you went into his room?” Laurie lit a joint for herself and the rest of this foursome of inseparable women. Long toke. “Did you two argue?” The sexy blonde’s smiling eyes wanted scandalous news that might set even the rafters and blazing speakers above them to listen. “Or did you give in to his lust?”

Cocky cool and jutting her left hip, she toked. “He was putty in my arms, girl. You know he was already naked when I got there. I strutted to his bed licking my diamonds and rubbing them in my twat, you know, and I threw ‘em at his feet. Then my sable at his pecker. Then I stripped, and threw my clothes at his face.” Toked again, then handed the joint to Jarris. “I slinked onto the bed and—you know.” Toothy smile. “So,” laugh, “that’s my story of salacious seduction.” Ger smiled sweetly to Laurie. “So like what’s yours?”

Laurie had to yell now because the music suddenly got a lot louder. “Would you believe he was taking a shower?”

“Oh, yeh?” Jarris interrupted. “Who’d he just lay?”

“How the hell would I know? You think the first thing I did when Jack came out of the shower was to ask him who he just wanked? Not bloody likely, Jar!”

“But you wondered, eh?” Mo asked with a throaty voice and a street tough accent. Toke.

“Yeh, right. But in the meantime, I was preparing myself for the feast, you know.” Took the joint from Mo. “You know that whipped cream I brought?” Laughs.

“Ooooohh!” Mo licked her lips. “And you licked him dry in the passion play.”

“He was limp with exhaustion, girl. Like, after I squirted his pecker and licked it clean, he could barely control himself. He never humped me so bloody hard in his life. Like he hadn’t any in weeks.” Laugh. “Well, hours, anyway.” She looked at Jarris. “Your turn, babe.” Toke.

“When I opened the door that bitch Artesia was biting Keith’s ear, so I grabbed her, dragged her out of his bed and threw her out the door.”

“Shit, Jar!” Mo shouted above the now muted music, causing Mick, the closest on stage, to give her a dirty look.

Mo saw the guitarist glare at her. “Ooops! Sorry, Mick.” Turned her volume down. “Shit, Jar, you serious?”

The skinny red-head laughed. “No. He was playing his VideoGame.”

Sighs of relief all around.

“So I threw off me sable and marched up to him and said as a vixen in heat, ‘You put that stupid game away, Keith Mullock!’ and proceeded to rip off his leather trousers, eh? Then I took a flying leap on top of him that burned the hair off his chest. Before he could even unplug that game, he tossed it to the floor, eh? Then we wrestled each other’s clothes off.”

“Totally delicious!” Ger giggled. “Like you always say—he’s sooo good in bed. Need to try him sometime.”

“In your dreams, babe.” Snide laugh. “Now, Mo, can you top that?”

“Maybe.” Mo toked again, eyes flashing pride. “At least I got to throw someone outta Bry’s room.”

“Who?”

Stifled a laugh. “Reg Lewis.”

As the girls cackled, the music exploded and the audience roared.

With the other women nearly rolling on the floor with riotous comedy, Mo wiped tears of hard laughter from her eyes. “Yeh, I said, ‘Goodbye, Reg,’ and flung him out the door. His head almost,”—shriek of laughter—“hit the door frame!”

The girls were picking themselves off the floor.

“Bry got off the bed to protest, eh? So I shoved him back onto his bed and ripped his clothes off. Ripped ‘em, eh? Seriously.”

“Good for you, girl.” Laurie said.

“Yeh. When you deal with Bry McClellan, you sometimes have to get rough with him. The rougher, the better. Turns into a real sex machine.” Like he always was before he got me pregnant and we got married.

In the third example, from Chapter Eleven of The Prodigal Band (or chapter 13 of the PDF) the six band members are in a spiritual void–not heaven and not hell–after being “rescued” from a calamity on their private jet headed to a London Airport in order to attend a Directorate meeting. At first separated, the six band members find themselves together again a short time later–but in a realm without time. Spoiler alert: two of the band members had already experienced a similar spiritual void a few years before while their bodies were physically in hospital beds.


“Fancy meeting you here,” Erik smiled.

Keith went up to him. “This is the place, eh bro?”

“Yeh. Same place, but no black holes and no other people. But how’d we get here?” Then the singer dropped his jaw. “Are we—?”

The bassist anticipated the question. “No. We not dead.”

“You sure, bro?”

“We’re on a mission of God, eh? Not a mission to God.”

A glowing light turned on in Manning’s brain. “Well, that explains it, then!” He waved his arms with such joy he wanted to jump on the others with the news. “We’re on a mission of God but now we’re on a mission to God! That way, God can tell us what He wants us to do!”

Jack was nonplused, but turned annoyed. “Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute!” He stood there, hands on hips in disbelief. “God isn’t some guy you meet on the street! Like you really, really think the Almighty God, Jehovah, Yahweh, whatever, is going to deign to face pipsqueaks like us and put us in a circle around Him and tell us big-time unrepentant sinners what He wants us to do?” He then marched up to the singer. “Are you freaking out of your freaking mind? Who do you think we are? Ezekiel, Daniel, Elijah, Jeremiah, Moses and David?”

“Who?”

Jack slumped, exasperated. “I thought you said you were reading the— Never mind!”

Tom said, “They’re Biblical prophets, right?”

“Not all of ‘em,” Jack answered. “Moses was the guy who took the Jews out of Egypt. David was the guy who slew Goliath with a sling shot. The other guys are big time prophets.”

“Why?” Erik wanted to know.

“Why were they prophets?” Jack had to think fast. “Because according to the Bible, God told them to say things to the Jews like repent from your sins and stuff like that, ‘cos if they didn’t, God would destroy them. And basically, that’s what happened. Most of the Jews— they had twelve tribes, but ten of them were wiped out. They were conquered, then scattered. The other two tribes were taken by the Babylonians, but later they returned. Anyway, God punished ‘em ‘cos they wouldn’t stop sinning. Something like that.”

“Okay, I get the picture!” But the singer got going. “But that brings us back to what we were saying months ago when we were given this mission. Why would God choose us unrepentant sinners to do this mission? Which leads us to why would God bring us here to tell us what—”

Jack flew off the handle. “I didn’t say that, you did! You’re the one who’s saying we got raptured up here!”

Keith’s eyes popped out. “You mean, this is THE rapture?”

“What rapture?” Bry asked.

“You know, THE rapture in those ‘end-times’ novels. That’s when all the Christians get taken up into Heaven—”

Jack shouted for effect. “It’s NOT the rapture! Bloody shit!”

Tom shot back, “No cussing in Heaven.”

There are more comedy scenarios with the three-book-novel trilogy.  And I had a lot of fun writing these scenarios! More snippets to come next week!

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

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Starting This Week: Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy by Category

I cannot think of a better way to nudge folks into buying any of my books that comprise The Prodigal Band Trilogy than to provide snippets from the books, mostly snippets from the ‘three-books-in-one’ but also from the original printed novels and free PDF.

The categories include: Comedy, Conspiracy, Drama, Fantasy, Horror, Mystery, Occult, Romance, Satire, Spiritual and Suspense. Some of these categories are also fiction genres, but my novels do not conform to one or two particular genres, thus the genre I chose for the Lulu-published The Prodigal Band Trilogy was Adult, General.

When a snippet from the novel is presented I will provide some background information regarding characters, setting, sub-plot, etc.

Below is an example, with the category being Conspiracy. The snippet introduces the characters that make up the fictional rock band the novels are about and also introduces the primary antagonists that conspire to use the band for their evil purposes. As with ‘the powers-that-be’ that many now know belong to secret societies, the evil-doers, in one of their secret meetings, discuss why the band was chosen, and in the process introduce the band characters. From Chapter One of Battle of the Band, from the first part of The Prodigal Band Trilogy.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy, printed and e-book versions, can be purchased here.  The e-book is on E-Pub format and can be read on an E-Reader easily by downloading Calibre E-Book Management

For Kindle Readers, download and install Calibre, download the novel after purchase, put the e-book into the Calibre Library, transfer the E-Pub format into MOBI format, then transfer the e-book to the Kindle device or laptop app. Shortly, The Prodigal Band Trilogy should be available from Amazon for all Kindle Readers.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy is © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde. Rights Reserved. Battle of the Band is © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde. All Rights Reserved. (Original printed version)

***

A small group of exceedingly powerful men sat in red plush chairs surrounding a polished mahogany table. In front of each participant lay grey leather folios that displayed the gold-leaf embossed symbol of the Novordo Club—a pagan cross radiating from a sun-circle encasing an s-like snake. The Demons watched over the assembled luminaries.

“See these men of Our Lord Lucifer?” Silver Demon said. “Their agenda bears our Corionic Cross which The Creator banished from His realm. The red crystals around their necks prove their allegiance to us. Whoever wears or minds those crystals of Our Lord shall heed our cause to own this small planet.”

“Their governments are implementing our political, financial, and social programs targeted by Our Lord for placement. This group of leaders will discuss how they will control the culture of the young of this world.” Gold Demon then whispered as if the men below might hear them. “It is today they will choose our troubadours of the new generation. Of course, we will make sure they choose our boys of the spoken-pact two years ago.”

Some of the men left the oak-paneled room to attend other Novordo Club meetings involving environmental policy. Those involved in deciding who would lead the world’s youth remained. These included Baron Torquay-Lambourgeau, head of the world’s largest banking cartel; a forty-two-year-old record mogul; and two media kingpins, Mr. X and Mr. Y.

“Talent manager Joe Phillips, that is, my wayward son,” the Baron said, “has a five-man band of ill-repute that has the talent-skills, the charisma, and the desire to succeed where all others must fail. More than anything, my son says. More than anything will this group perform to impassion the youth into a frenzy of hero-worship.”

The record mogul asked, “Are you referring to Sound Unltd? They’re not exactly a hot act right now.”

“Who the hell cares?” Mr. X asked. “Isn’t it us who decide who will own popular entertainment? That they aren’t now the top band is all the more reason to go with them. They’re obscure enough so as no one will ever guess our motivation for picking them.”

“They truly have it all,” Mr. Y said. “Their singer-lyricist Erik is, pardon the expression, a godsend. Matchless voice, and even better, his naughty operatics and pyrotechnics on stage drive girls and boys into the lap of devilish fanaticism. He lived in great poverty after his hated father abandoned his family and later died. This one’s in it primarily for the money.

“Their guitarist-composer Jack is already of hero-quality with his screaming guitar style. He led a street gang and demands perfection and unity from the others. He’s in it for the glory. Coincidentally, my agents told me that the guitarist believes he made a pact with Our Lord Lucifer for success. Both the singer and guitarist are handsome rogues with model-gorgeous girlfriends, perfect for the idol image both of them must project.

“Mick, their current bassist, is skinny with a beak for a nose and a long, pretty face surrounded by dark-brown hair ringlets down his back. He was sexually abused by his mother and neglected by his father. He’s in it for the perversion. A cultist who wears our symbol of the old Celtic Crag-Dwellers of the Craggy Mountains of Wales.

“Bryan, their keyboard synthist, is a bulky biker with bushy red hair and associates with bikers. He made his girlfriend pregnant last year and felt obliged to marry her. Reggie Lewis, a top studio musician, is helping him build a keyboard-effects synthesizer. He’s in it for the ride.

“Their drummer Tom lives with clairvoyant Prissy Wyatt and pretends to channel the god Corion for amusement. His father is indentured to the Duke of Effingchester. The young curly blond doesn’t know this. He’s in it to find out.

“Later, a sixth member, a Warwicke’s Ship Works riveter named Keith will rejoin them on bass. A strict follower of the outdated Code. But his dad was a womanizer. Like father, like son. He’s in it for the women.

“When the sextet is formed, they will be unstoppable.”

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Both SoftCover and E-Book Versions of The Prodigal Band Trilogy are Now Available for Purchase on Lulu.com and iBookStore!

Both the softcover and e-book version of the Three-Books-in-One The Prodigal Band Trilogy are now available for purchase on Lulu.com and iBookStore, by clicking on my Lulu Spotlight Author Page here.

The E-book is easily downloadable once the purchase is made, and is in the EPUB format which is what Lulu (using the Calibre E-book Management e-Reader tool, a FREE download), Barnes and Nobel Nook, Kobo, iBook, and other readers use. Simply add the e-book your device or e-Reader library.

The e-book is not yet available on Amazon Kindle which uses the MOBI format, but it should be available soon assuming Amazon agrees to distribute the book.

As the printed softcover and e-book becomes available on Amazon and other sites for purchase I will let the reader know.

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You Can Now Buy The Prodigal Band Trilogy on Lulu.com! Will Be Available on Other Platforms Soon!

See the “buy now!” button from Lulu near the top of the page.

I will be posting this same information on the Bookstore page shortly, but I am posting this “buy button” now just for the heck of it! Plus I now have a Lulu Author Spotlight page for more information about this ‘three-novels-in-one’ e-book (printed book to be made available once I check on the look and formatting; Lulu is sending me a copy to check it out). One can purchase off the Spotlight page as well. But for right now I am trying out this button:

 
Support independent publishing: Buy this e-book on Lulu.
 
One more thing: Lulu publishes e-books in the EPub format and the easiest and cheapest way to view their EPubs is to download, for free, the Calibre E-book Management software. It is so simple I didn’t even have to read the manual that comes with the software!

1. Download Calibre according to what your operating system is (see buttons on page).

2. Once you download the software, simply click “Add books” in the top menu and then find the downloaded e-book you (hopefully) have on your computer or device, and then your book is added.

3. Finally, click the “View” button in the menu to view the book (first, click on the book in your book list.)

4. After reading whatever in the book, bookmark where you are in the book to pick it up where you left off. To do this, there is a Table of Contents menu to the left of the book page you are on, and one of the menu items is a blue “bookmark” looking pix. Simply click on that menu item.

For easy page “turning,” there are two purple “arrows” right above the blue bookmark menu item. The arrow facing left is to go back a page, and the arrow facing right is to go forward to the next page. This is a lot easier than trying to scroll, but at the top menu is a button where you can “flow” the book text. I think the arrows are easier, though. One can scroll using the scroll thingee on the right side of the e-book, but it could scroll too quickly.

And remember also, there are no page numbers within e-books.

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‘The Prodigal Band Trilogy’ Print Version in Production Now

While the main purpose of getting with Lulu Publishing was to have them create and distribute the e-book version of my Prodigal Band Trilogy as three-books-in-one for anyone wanting to read the books on a Kindle or Nook or other e-book reader device and not have to deal with EPUB publishing errors many have had to deal with (sometimes, ‘pay-to-play’ makes more sense when there are several e-book platforms one can sell the book on, not just Amazon, which offers a poor royalty pay-out IMHO compared to Lulu), for no extra fee, Lulu is also going to produce soft-cover books for purchase from said distribution outlets. While the distributor gets to set the price for sale, the list price will be between $35 and $40 for this 676 page three-novels-in-one (which costs about $15 each to produce, and where Lulu and myself can earn a bit of money on). I will also purchase books I can sell at a considerable mark-down (about $20 to $25 per book) having to just purchase the books at cost (that is, about $15, plus shipping.)

Now, if you as a self-publishing author have the funds available to let Lulu “do the heavy lifting” so-to-speak and not have to concern yourself with EPUB errors or Kindle policy and formatting changes (because over the span of a couple of years Kindle has completely changed their Kindle-Create/Kindle Desktop Publishing/Kindle whatever formatting app that, upon doing research, I found was confusing and causing publishing errors by various authors, not to mention the low payout for self-publishers. Plus Barnes and Noble Nook is having issues as well. And Walmart now uses Kobo, and then there is Mac’s iBook and several other platforms–all of which have different formatting styles. Why go through the hassle when Lulu can accommodate all these various platforms at once? And, as I said, their payout is higher.

And their various teams have, IMHO, done an excellent job, from the initial team which found several possible copyright or privacy issues (especially since my books mention so many celebrities and media outfits), to the team handling the revisions, to the team handling production. All have done well and a great big thank you!

Again, if you have the funding for your e-book or print book or both, I’d go with Lulu Publishing. It is worth the money you’d pay them, and they always give discounts anyway.

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Why is OmegaBooks “Home of the World’s Most Unique Fiction”? (Repost from my author blog, March 2, 2018)

But before I do the repost, here is some news regarding my The Prodigal Band Trilogy e-book to be published by Lulu Publishing: I have just sent in the manuscript revision sheet for the final proof…and I couldn’t believe how many typos and grammar issues I had to revise! And I’m sure I forgot one or two… Printed copies of the three-books-in-one will also become available, and Lulu will send me a few when it is completed…complimentary copies.

Onto the repost…

Originally posted March 2, 2018 on my Blog

I know that sounds bloviated, unrealistic, conceited even, to call my little independent publishing company hardly anyone has ever heard of “home of the world’s most unique fiction.” But folks, I do believe it is true. Here is why:

None of my fiction books fit into a fiction genre. My books are not simply romance, though there is romance in them. Or spiritual, though there is much spirituality in them, and the same goes for the “Christian” label–my novels contain sex, drugs, and rock and roll–now how “Christian” is that? Or fantasy–but there is plenty of fantasy in my novels! Or horror–but there are elements of horror in all my novels, such as Satanists drinking blood like vampires. Or adventure–but there are adventures in all of them, and even a bit of “western” in my forthcoming “The Prodigal Band.” Or the notion of “based on a true story”–no novel is based on one particular true story, but many truthful events which at some point I will document. One “truthful event” scenario that prevails in all my novels so far is the well-worn notion that rock and roll artists, from simple rock stars to mega stars, have “sold their souls to the devil.” Thus my novels are spiritual, fantasy, horror, with a bit of adventure, romance, “Christian” and western thrown in. Historical facts are also at play here.

The over-riding theme, being spiritual, is simply this–and I hate to play spoiler here–a rock and roll band learns how to defeat evil and accepts the ultimate destroyer of evil, but not to spoil anything I won’t say Who. So, folks, are there any other novels out there with the same theme using a rock and roll band? If so, let me know.

The main characters in these books were created by me when I was somewhere between the ages of 12 and 14, the time period being 1964 through 1967 or thereabouts–the time of the Beatles, Stones, Who, Cream, etc.–that is, the beginnings of the true “classic rock” period. Now, what do the bands mentioned above all have in common? They are Brits. To me, these English bands made the genre, so therefore, after spending about 6 weeks in England as a HS graduation gift, along with five others, one my best friend, and learning about living in England (we lived as guests with families near Brighton and attended lectures at Sussex University), I decided my main characters would be from England, and would be in a rock band. (Besides, I love hearing English accents, especially northern ones).

Now isn’t it conventional wisdom that one’s novels almost always contain characters and landscapes similar to or exactly where one grew up? Stephen King’s novels almost always take place in Maine, where he is from, right? JK Rowling’s Harry Potter novels are set in England, where she is from, right? My fave American author if all time, Kurt Vonnegut? He is from central-upper New York State, near Ithaca, and aren’t many if not most of his novels set in that area? A great English novelist, Charles Dickens, has most of his books set in or around London, where I presume he is from, right? So, another “unique” aspect to my novels is that my main characters, which originally were from my birthplace on Long Island when I first created them, were moved to England around the time I went there. But not because I know a huge amount of stuff about England or even would rather live there, but because since they would be in a rock band, in my opinion they had to be from England, which created the best rock music in my day. Plus, I had become an Anglophile, so to speak.

Why a rock band? Two reasons. One, rock music was one of my very few connections to my generation and friends–I was mostly a loner then and I am mostly a loner now…an introvert. Being a fan of rock music allowed me to have at least some good friends and become, if not “A-list” in High School, at least “B-list.” Two, because when I was a teen I wanted to become either one or two things–either an author or journalist, that is, a writer, or a rock star with guitar. I learned some guitar when my grandparents got me a regular guitar for Christmas in 1965 and learned mostly chords. I got more lessons from a friend who happened to be the front man for his local band, which after some lessons I joined–and this band was quite good. But it split up in 1969 or so. Plus, I was okay at guitar as well as singing but not really up to professional standards. So as for college, I had become pretty good at art as well, so I went to art school in NY City but dropped out after a year–I was good, but again, not professional. So then, why didn’t I become a journalist? Because I realized that “journalism” was what the editor and newspaper publisher wanted one to “journalize” about! I did not want to be a “journalist” who had to re-write the truthful story into falsehood just to please my “bosses.” So, after a period of years, I began my first novel featuring a fictional rock band.

If I was never a rock star, how could I write about fictional rock stars? Ever hear of Rolling Stone magazine? The “magazine about rock stars” from the late 60s until today? Research, folks. Plus what happens at gigs, how music/tracks/albums are recorded, back then and today with digital, various instruments, etc. The music business, recording contracts, managerial connections, etc. The research isn’t that hard–and I did most of it back before I had internet! But though fictional rock stars are featured in my novels, the novels aren’t about “rock stardom.” The novels are about good vs. evil. And did I dance with evil! The occult, witch craft, tarot cards, Ouija boards, séances, etc. Just to try it out so to speak–but after one particular horrifying séance were I and two other friends actually called up the dead and the “dead” responded–sending the Ouija board into the air and the curtains in the room flying hither, thither, and yon!–that was the last of my doing “witch” stuff!  So, my novel characters also wind up calling up what would turn out to be demons and wicked angels to “assure” their huge success. If I could do it (never mind success)…

And, if my novels present and future do achieve sales success, it won’t be because of evil spirits, but Good Ones if you know what I mean. I’m on a “mission from…” Remember that line from the movie Blues Brothers?

 

 

 

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The Prodigal Band Trilogy: The Why (Originally Posted on Blog in 2018 in Five Parts)

For the original blog posts, they are here at the Blog.

Since Lulu.com is now in production mode of my “three-e-books-in-one” The Prodigal Band Trilogy, now is a good time to rehash “the why” I created these books beginning years ago.

Part One

As I have said in previous posts, I began my journey as a writer of fiction around the age of 8 or 9. I was returning home, on Long Island, New York, with my parents and older brother in a car from a visit to my grandparents (mother’s side) who lived in Mount Dora, Florida (about 20 miles from what was then Orlando). It was the summer of 1962; thus, I was 9 at the time. And I just happened to bring some non-lined notebook-sized paper and pencil with me. The paper was folded in half, width-wise, and looked like a “paperback book.”

Glad I brought the paper and pencil, because I was bored. I do not remember what my brother, in the back seat with me, was doing–he was 14 and likely listening to transistor radio up to near his ears (and folks, before the Beatles came along, pop music was very very boring, cutesy-wootsey “love songs” and other meaningless tripe about teenagers falling in love. From the time of the plane crash of Big Bopper, Ritchie Valens, and Buddy Holly in 1958 until the Beatles in 1964, “rock” music, if you could call it that, was IMHO, tripe. Dion and the Belmonts and Del Shannon and perhaps the Four Seasons were about as good as it got, and who the heck was Elvis? But anyway…) I had no idea what my parents were doing other than driving.

This was my first journey into the “deep south.” And the only thing I knew about the “deep south” related to the Civil War and the abominable institution known as slavery back then. There were times along Route 301 or even what was then I-95 when I would see what were called “negro shacks” along the way, plus we all visited some Civil War Confederacy monument somewhere, can’t remember. Now I was a “buff” so to speak of Civil War history. So I decided I was going to make up some story about this kid in the South during the Civil War who, along with his friend, a black kid who had been freed from slavery somehow and lived with the kid and his family, hated the south and slavery! So what he and his friend did was help the Union Army blow up a Confederate “ammunition dump.” And they did. I did not mention the state the kid lived in, or even the kid’s family name, but I called him “Johnny Reb” and the black kid was named Sammy. So, I named a kid who would blow up a Confederate ammo dump Johnny Reb? When my dad actually read the “book” (named “Johnny Reb” and was about 20 pages long in pencil) he brought up this irony! After all, weren’t the Confederates called “Rebels”?

Around that time I also had a diary–didn’t all young girls have diaries then? So, there I was in late 1963 just starting to have any interest in the watered-down “rock and roll” back then. When it rained outside, and in the Northeast US, home of “Nor’easters,” it almost always rained some in the fall and early winter, the public elementary school kept all the students in the gym after lunch, too wet to play outside. I was in sixth grade at the time and, not being popular so-to-speak, no boy wanted to dance with me. So all I did then was listen to whatever 45 RPM record discs were put onto the record player. Not being a ‘A-list’ or even ‘B-list’ (more like ‘D-list!’) that’s all I could do as most of my friends were dancing on the gym floor with boys whom had asked them to dance. Well, I had to try to ‘fit-in’ somehow so, even though I thought the music was boring tripe, I pretended to like it anyway. Thus, in my diary I would make up stuff about myself–in terms of a fiction character I can’t even remember the name–being popular and folks like Chubby Checker or Frankie Valli (spelling?) wanting to ‘dance’ with me (not knowing the actual hidden meaning of ‘dance’ at the time…’dance’ was code for a certain ‘f’ word if you know what I mean!) And of course I made up the boy characters as well. And named them the same names I have used for the original rock band characters in my books! (Note: the band concept came about in the latter 70s, and then I added two more band members, then deleted one of the originals in the 80s only to put him back in during the 90s). The reader is going to have to wait to find out the names of the characters for a bit.

Part Two

Continuing from Part 1, no boy would dance with me in the public school gym on rainy days, so I pretended they would using a fictional diary character, a “new persona” so to speak, just to make myself feel like I was okay and not the ‘D-lister’ I imagined everyone else thought I was. I didn’t even think my neighborhood friends thought I was up to snuff (and I don’t mean “snuff film snuff” either! If this happened to day I’d have been called a “geek” or “emo”). Four of the fictional diary boys later became four of my Prodigal Band fictional characters.

But in late December, 1963, before school was let out for Christmas vacation, I noticed a magazine picture on a shelf along the blackboard wall headed out the door. On the picture were four young men dressed in dark-colored suits and long-ish hair…back in those days boys or men generally had either crew cuts or short hair not below the neck line. These four men had much longer hair than I was used to seeing! The name or title above the men was written as “The Beatles.” Well, that was it, no other mention by any other student that I’d heard. And I had no idea who put this picture on the shelf, or why. The teacher was in her 50s–certainly she wouldn’t have put it there!

Then Christmas came and wouldn’t you know it but my older brother got two Beatles albums as a gift! (Did he put the picture there? Likely not, he was already in High School. But clearly he’d heard of the Beatles or else why would he request Beatles albums, LPs back then, for Christmas?) So he let me listen to both; one was Introducing the Beatles featuring ‘And I Love Her’ and several others I can’t remember, and the other was Meet the Beatles featuring ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ and “She Loves You.’  Well, that Meet the Beatles LP just blew me away, especially ‘She Love You’ (Yeh, yeh, yeh…) Now THAT was rock and roll! So, I became an instant Beatles fan, and nearly went crazy when I watched them on the Ed Sullivan Show in February, 1964. And then went even more nearly crazy when I saw the movie, A Hard Day’s Night, that summer in a nearby movie theater.

But it wasn’t just the Beatles. By summer, 1964, the so-called ‘British Invasion’ was in full swing and pretty much took over the airwaves from American acts by then. After the Beatles came, in spring, the Dave Clark Five (who I actually got to see live in early 1965), and other Liverpool groups like the Searchers and Gerry and the Pacemakers; then in summer, the Rolling Stones and the Animals; then in fall, Herman’s Hermits and the Kinks. Then in 1965, the Hollies and the Yardbirds (both of which would lead to even greater things with Crosby, Stills and Nash and Cream and Led Zeppelin).

Note about the Animals: ‘House of the Rising Sun’ originally by Bob Dylan was one of my fave songs back then, and, when I saw them on the Ed Sullivan show, he interviewed them after they performed and what got me was that while I could understand what the Beatles were saying (they of course are from Liverpool and speak ‘Scouse’), I could barely understand what any of the Animals were saying! They were from Newcastle-upon-Tyne and had a very strange accent! And, in a later post, I will explain how I became fascinated with this strange accent, called ‘Geordie’.

But as for my fictional diary characters, since I didn’t know squat about how rock and roll bands did things and couldn’t play guitar then anyway, I didn’t yet have them form some fictional band–they became a gang. American, of course. Didn’t know squat about England–yet.

Part Three

Continued from Part 2, I said my ‘boy diary’ characters became a gang, but not a drug gang or a violent gang. Just a close knit group of boys, and all these teen boys had girlfriends. Remember, this was fantasy stuff in my fake persona diary that I kept, basically, because I loved writing and writing about a persona that was very popular among boys literally kept me sane (even if it seems as though making up fantasy personas seems insane! I will say this: I am sure any friends I had did think I was a bit on the weird side because I was such a non-conformist. And love of rock music was almost the only way I knew I could fit in with ‘the crowd’).

But, as rock music went psychedelic beginning with the 1967 ‘summer of love’ in San Fran’s Haight-Ashbury district, hippie central, and the release of the landmark Beatles’ album, Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band—you know, the one with Aleister Crowley on the cover—I suddenly found myself absorbed in this music and decided I wanted to learn guitar. For Christmas in 1967 I got an acoustic guitar and a chord chart and a lesson book. Then in 1968 I got lessons from a teen around my age (16) who had his band, a neighbor. It turned out I could play an electric guitar much better than an acoustic one—the frets were narrower and the strings were closer together, a benefit to one with shorter fingers and a wee bit spastic in the ring finger who had trouble with chords that required outstretched fingers such as B, B flat, A flat, etc. So that I got good enough to play in this band as well as sing. Well, this got my ‘boy diary’ characters out of ‘just a gang mode’ and into ‘gang and rock musician mode.’ While the band I played with some broke up shortly, at least I got a taste of what being in a rock band was all about. By 1969, I had my fantasy boy rock band made up, and I wrote ‘stories’ about how they made records and toured and stuff.

And then came 1970 when a boy—he was pimply as all get up and curly blond hair and not exactly ‘A-list’ either—asked me out on dates, and even the senior prom. I turned down the prom offer, but at least I got to ‘make out’ so-to-speak. By then, I was ‘B-list,’ and working at an afternoon job at a local supermarket. Near graduation time from high school my best friend showed me an ad in the New York Times about a ‘university lecture program’ for students interested in European affairs from a British point of view at Sussex University near Brighton, which is on the English Channel and a seaside resort of sorts, with the added bonus of ‘living’ with a local family, as part of what was called ‘Inter-Teach.’ My folks knew I was somewhat an ‘Anglophile’ (thanks to Brit rock bands mostly along with a fascination for British accents…heck even American accents are fascinating to a degree), so they decided to put up the money for me to partake in this program as a graduation gift.

The program began in mid-July, 1970 and my friend (who had just turned 16 and I was nearly 18) and I and three college students and one HS freshman (we almost never saw…he was there solely for the education) lived in houses of program patrons in a Brighton suburb and attended daily lectures at the university given by three professors, one of whom was Welsh. In addition to  lectures we all did the following: saw a Shakespeare play in his home-town of Stratford-on-Avon, got coffee at Oxford University, saw several museums in London including one honoring one of my fave authors, Charles Dickens, some folk music festival near Guilford in Surrey, and various trips to pubs (without the freshman…while my friend and I weren’t quite 18 yet and thus weren’t old enough to consume alcohol, no one noticed that and for the first time in my life I drank warm beer. My friend and I also made a special trip to the northern London Hackney district so she could see her aunt, her mother’s sister, and her cousin for the first time (they lived in a tower block…at the time, Hackney seemed okay; now, it is supposedly an ‘Asian’ (read Muslim) district and there were riots there several years ago!). And various car trips with the family I stayed with.

We were supposed to leave England around the 25th of August, but my friend and I and two college students stayed an extra week or so. To attend the second Isle of Wight Rock Festival, Britain’s Woodstock (the other two on this trip returned without us) we learned about when we met some young men at some youth hostel or something. And no way was I going to miss a chance to see the Who, Pink Floyd, Traffic, Emerson, Lake and Palmer and many others. (Note: the final day, Sunday, featured Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin, but we had to leave during that day, or else we never would have been able to return to the States in time—it took days for everyone to leave Woodstock in August, 1969, and this was on an island!)

The festival was wonderful and interesting, but that really wasn’t the best part of this extra-week stay. The best part was a trip by van (driven by a male college student who quickly learned how to drive on the left side of the road in the right side of a vehicle!) into and around Wales, including the Cambrian Mountain area (spending a night at a bed and breakfast in said mountain area), then onto Bristol and Bath—named for ancient Roman hot baths—then onto Stonehenge, then onto South Hampton (or was it Portsmouth?) for the night to take the ferry to the Isle of Wight the following morning. So we spent the night ‘camping’ by the van, but before I went to sleep in the front seat of the van I had a very interesting conversation with three men in their twenties that spoke with that very strange accent I mentioned in my last post.

Part Four

The four of us—my friend and I and two college students—parked the van we rented in the overnight parking lot next to the ferry dock for the Isle of Wight to head for the Isle of Wight Rock Festival the following morning. Next to our van was another van, and next to us in front of that van were three men likely in their twenties that really only I spoke with, from Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Of the three, I could only really understand one of them; the other two had much thicker Geordie accents. No matter, the accent was fascinating (and, in fact, most English accents are somewhat fascinating). According to this Northeast England website,   this accent/dialect is derived from the Angles (not the Saxons) and is related to Celtic tribes that border Scotland. (In fact, all northern England accents/dialects derive from the Angles instead of the Saxons). Nor was this dialect affected by the Viking invasions and subsequent Danelaw kingdoms that were later conquered by the Normans. In fact, from the time of Robert the Bruce’s successful take-back of most of Northumria (above the Tyne, at the site of Hadrian’s Wall above the city of Wallsend) until England took it back in the 1740s, that area was part of Scotland. If you hear the Geordie accent, it almost sounds Scottish.

A couple of things to note this accent/dialect: one, instead of “ow” or “ou,” they say “oo,” and instead of the long A sound, it sounds like the long E sound, a sharper long I sound and long O sound, the short “a” sounds like “aaa” or “ah,” and the short u sounds (as with other northern accents) like a cross between “u” and “oo” (for instance, take the “u” in “push”, but not quite the “oop” for “up.” And other different sounds. And more, such as the expression “to hell with it,” they’d say “to hell wi’t.”

And that, folks, is why my band fictional characters are from this area. The accent.

And the history as well. I mentioned Hadrian’s Wall before. Then, in the latter 700s (as seen on the History Channel TV series “Vikings”) Norsemen raiders from mainly Norway sailed, among other places, up the Tyne River and nearly took over the Kingdom of Northumbria. Later the area was Christianized and today there is a famous monastery in the city of Jarrow, also made famous by the “Jarrow March” of striking coal miners and ship-yard workers in 1926. Across from Newcastle is the city of Gateshead that features an angelic-like or winged-bird-like statue, near the entrance point to the world’s first suspension bridge. The point about the ‘angelic statue’ plays a role in my novels. One has likely heard the term “coals to Newcastle,” and of course this river is a major shipping artery for more than just coal. In fact, and I didn’t even know this until after my first novel was published, there is a direct shipping lane from the city of Stavanger, Norway, to Newcastle. This also plays a role in my novels.

So I kept all this in mind when I seriously started writing the Prodigal Band Trilogy.

Part Five

Now is Part 5, discussing the various changes I made over the next twenty or so years from 1970 until the final version of the first novel in the series, Battle of the Band, was published, that set the stage for the next two books, including the FREE PDF of The Prodigal Band.

In the early 1970s I had planned to write the story of a 60s band, but that made no sense since no prime plot was set, and why write a story about a 60s band when the 60s were over with and in the mid-70s the music genre was changing? And, oh yeah, the mainline pop music at the time was a genre I hated—Disco! And then in 1975 another rocker I had no regard for, Peter Frampton—remember him?—was suddenly foisted on us rock fans at the same time the early 70s wunderkind, Led Zeppelin, was stagnating? Just as with today and my feeling that rock is dying or died with Chester Bennington and Chris Cornell resting in peace, I felt that by the latter 70s rock was dying as well. What was around was milquetoast at best (with a few exceptions like the Eagles and one or two others). Thank God for punk—the Ramones, the Cars, the Police and others. As I said, a 60s or a 70s band made no sense to me, and again, what was the over-riding plot?

And, oh yeah, I was in my mid-20s and had to support myself and figure out my life, right? That meant working full time, and then later, attending college, which I thought would help me figure out just what I was going to do with my life. So, from 1972 or so until about 1981 I stopped writing (except for college term and research papers).

In 1981, I graduated from a state university in New York. I had been accepted for a master’s degree/PhD at the New School for Social Research in the midst of New York City, a very expensive college, with the goal of getting a PhD in Psychology. Well, President Reagan screwed that one up by signing into law a provision whereby graduate students could no longer apply for Pell Grants or other grants, which was how I was planning to pay for college (and then there was the issue of getting room and board in New York City besides). I was NOT going to force my parents to pay for all this; they had just retired and moved to snowbird central, the Tampa-St. Pete area of Florida (where my mother’s folks lived). So, thanks to Mr. President, I had to put off my college plans, so I moved in with my parents in a nice retirement HOA home in a very nice subdivision with swimming pool, golf course, etc. But in 1982 I was hoping to head back to New School after having worked at several jobs. In the meantime, I began working on the band story again for a month or two. Then, in early fall, an event happened that would put the story off for years—I met my future husband, who lived in far west Texas, a beekeeper and lifeguard near the Oasis of far west Texas, mostly mountain and desert country. We married in a small Catholic church in a town of 600 people, then a couple of years later bought property in a local POA, then built a house there. In the meantime, I returned to college, Sul Ross State U, and got a teaching certificate in secondary math and English, then taught math in local high schools. In 1993 after having two kids, I got a Master’s Degree in Counseling, but never got a counseling job—my Spanish wasn’t good enough! (Note: I lived within a hundred miles of Mexico…).

So there I was…being a wife and mother and beginning to home school my kids and such in the middle of nowhere in the mountains in the early 90s and was no longer teaching (getting the Counseling degree in the meantime, then teaching a year in El Paso since we badly needed the income for various reasons I’m not going to get into here…but might be explained later in a non-fiction book I plan to write about an event that really happened in my neck of the woods in the mid-90s). One night in the early 90s—I can’t remember the year, but it was in the middle of autumn—I prayed and prayed for Divine intervention because I was feeling as if I must get these characters out of my head if I was to be a proper mother/teacher/wife, as if these characters haunted me. And that is why over the next couple of years the stories I had in my head became my first book, written on someone else’s Mac computer and then finalized on my own Mac computer in early 1996. Because of praying for Divine intervention, this book morphed into the spiritual genre.

Of course, that was the plan all along.

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Happy Resurrection Day…or Easter, Whichever You Prefer

Or, if you are Jewish, Happy Passover.

And, speaking of Passover, there are some believers in Christ who actually do Passover. After all, Christ is our “Passover Lamb” so to speak.

And while most believers on Christ call it Easter, I prefer Resurrection Day since it is the day Christ was resurrected, that is, came back to life as seen by Apostles, Disciples and others.  Easter or Resurrection Day follows Good Friday, where Christ died in the crucifixion (as would the Passover Lamb die as the sacrifice for sin), and then Holy Saturday, where Christ “descends into Hell” as the Apostles Creed states in order to liberate good souls who did not have the opportunity to claim Christ as Savior but did God’s will anyway (such as the prophets, John the Baptist, and others). But instead of a Passover sacrifice which would have to be replicated year after year, this Sacrifice was for all sin, for all sinners, for all time. If you are not a believer on Christ, please consider that act as an option for you.

That is, if you are Muslim or Hindu or Buddhist or atheist or whatever,have a good day anyway but please consider the “accept Christ as Savior” option. If you need a little nudge in that direction, maybe downloading the FREE PDF e-book The Prodigal Band. If a sinful rock band can do it…

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Feel Censored? Use Fiction to Tell the Truth. Plus: More Spring Sales

First, about the spring sales…out in my neck of the woods in this mountain rural community we have (sponsored by our Community Church primarily to help our volunteer Fire Department with donations)…last year I “broke even” financially with sales of my two printed novels Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band at this event. I have sold some more at the “second annual” spring event and handed out “business cards” with the URL for downloading the FREE PDF e-book FREE PDF e-book The Prodigal Band.

Before I go on to the main topic regarding present-day censorship especially with narratives, political and otherwise, I must say that I have a problem with Christians, including authors, that get on my case because my characters cuss or play rock music. Sorry, folks, but if you really think no Christian ever cusses (and I don’t know a Christian who doesn’t cuss every now and then!) or if you think rock musicians are all “devil worshipers” then you haven’t done your homework or you have bought into nonsense. Plus you have Christians who think all “Christian rockers” are really devil worshipers! Stryper then, Hillsong now, right? Did Stryper sing and play about Christ? Yes. Does Hillsong today sing and play about Christ? Yes, despite the appearance of Justin Bieber (I’m being facetious, okay?), and despite some “symbology” issues some have with Hillsong. Now, why would a non-Christian sing and play about Christ? A joke, right? Harking back to the late 60s and Norman Greenbaum’s hit song, “Spirit in the Sky” about Christ–and assuming Greenbaum is Jewish–why would he do a song about Christ? A reminder–the late 60s saw a surge in a movement called “Jews for Jesus.” Maybe Greenbaum was part of that.

There are people who are Christian authors who believe all “Christian authors” should write a certain way and not have cussing characters or characters who sin before they accept Christ as Savior. All “Christian author” novels should be squeaky clean. Sorry, but I can’t write that way when, first of all, I accepted Christ as Savior after repenting of the following behaviors: dabbling in the occult (as one of my band characters does); having pre-marital sex (as several of my characters did); being rebellious against some authority; cussing (I have dropped the “f” word but occasionally use the “s” word–and it was hard for me to type that “f” word into my novels, but my characters are my characters!); and questioning what has been certain interpretations of the Bible, among other sins. Because of this, my novels are not “Christian adult fiction” but “adult fiction.” My novels are meant to try to get non-believers to consider believing on Christ. Isn’t that what Christ said? “Make disciples of all nations”? I’ll let others “preach to the choir.”

Now, the main point: my novels also include a certain amount of satire and parody of how the music industry works, and it’s not just the “sell your soul for fame and fortune.” It is actually more sinister, what with signing recording contracts whereby the label virtually owns you unless they dump you, and both the label and the distribution outfit (the corporation that owns the label) take well over half of the take on sales (today it is supposedly most of the take) and where the recording artist must pay for recording studio and production and album cover art and even tours, assuming the recording label pays out some “advance” which also must be paid back. (And I thought authors had it bad!). But the really big time acts (as chosen by the moguls, that is) do get more leeway and more of the take–for a price, which is not a “sold soul to the devil” price literally, but agenda-wise. Once you are made huge, you are forced to stick to an agenda that you might eventually discover is laden with evil. And then the crash begins…And, if you start to oppose the agenda…watch out!

But why do a non-fiction book about some band that underwent this agenda years ago that I would have to interview for the truth when the possibility exists that one or more of these band members “suicided” or whatever when I can state what I know to be true by writing a fiction novel?

And then you have politics and the powers-that-be. Take George Orwell, who was somewhat of a socialist but understood the dangers of socialism-communism-fascism. Now, he could have written some non-fiction trope about life in the 1940s Soviet Union or 1930s Nazi Germany, but instead he wrote “1984” and “Animal Farm.” Truth, disguised as fiction. What would occur when censorship reigned. Since I am not political and do not trust any political side, I have no intention of writing fiction about politics. Spiritual is what I do. And take Aldous Huxley, from a very prominent political-socialistic-Fabian Society family and a member of the Fabians as well who knew backwards and forwards what the elites he hung out with planned to do. Most everyone has heard of his dystopian magnum opus “Brave New World” (and some scientists seem to be carrying out the gene-editing designer-babies scenario these days), but where he really tells what he knows is the fiction novel set in 1920s London, “Point Counterpoint,” about various elitists in the scientific, political, social, educational, and religious/atheist circles and their plans to rule the world to their specifications, what with a rebel or two trying to put a stop to these plans (the rebels, of course, are socialists and some working-class patsies.) Since it would have been heresy of sorts for a member of the elites to state the truth in non-fiction, he did it with fiction. Then you have Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451″…Prescient, or what?

If anyone needs a reason to write fiction these days, I’d say telling the truth about something you need to tell the truth about is as good a way as any!

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Revised “The Prodigal Band FREE PDF” Now Uploaded and Available (Updated)

So as to be assured no snowflake celebrity who might get “offended” if they think I “insulted” them by saying my book character singer is better than they are, or if I implied some celebrity is a satanist or, even worse, a Christian…I removed ALL living celebrity names from this revised version. I can deal with snowflakes! What I can’t deal with are financial liabilities with those who are already filthy rich but just for the sake of vengeance they’ll try to “sue me for libel” anyway.

Here is the link: The Prodigal Band FREE PDF

Further, all existing media companies and brands were also removed. These companies did not exist when I wrote my two printed books, but now? There are thousands of media outfits, record labels, etc. So I had to change these brands as well. I also removed car and jet brands, store brands, and other famous brands–none of which I “denigrated” in any way, shape or form, but again, many of these companies are run by those who would love to take everything I own.

I did keep several names of dead famous or historic people (Laurence Olivier, Shakespeare, William the Conqueror and a few others). I also referred to parts of several well-known literary cliche’s, without the reference, since well-known literary works from the past have been copyright-renewed.

Some may think I “caved” to political correctness. Folks, I don’t “cave” to political correctness or to bogus “you hurt my feelings” crapola. But why should I give anyone any excuse to sue me for libel, especially when parts of this book are satirical? Fiction is fictional. Except of the fiction is based on a true story, there is no reason to use the names of famous people when it is obvious anyway that certain famous individuals are referred to, just not be name. As for brand names, the reader can use his or her imagination. for instance, I use the fictitious media brand name “BritishTV.” I am sure everyone is thinking “BBC” when I mention that fictitious media name, right? I did this for one reason and one reason only–so I won’t get sued for libel! I don’t have millions of dollars to settle such a suit! I should I set up some “GoFundMe” site?

BTW, ALL smart fiction writers do this same thing! I am an obscure writer now, but who knows what could happen in the future? Only God knows. So I have to be smart.

What replaced brands were generic names: car instead of car brand, guitar instead of guitar brand, etc. I also replaced some real names with similar names spelled differently, or name initials. Fortunately, some brand or place names do not exist so I could keep those names. All large city names were kept, and a few smaller city names as well. But some place names were changed so as not to “insult” the residents.

And residents or affictionados could feel insulted! Because this free pdf e-book is riddled with satire!

Folks, I strongly believe evil has overtaken this world, which is why I must do whatever I have to do to try to get folks to want to change this evil into good. If I have to remove names and things or even places, so be it. But the main focus on GOOD vs. EVIL and the Forces of Good vs. the forces of evil will never be removed!

Shine over evil!

PS: The original The Prodigal Band Trilogy FREE PDF is no longer available. Further, the updated revised version will be submitted to the Library of Congress very shortly.

Update: It has been registered with Library of Congress copyright.

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Memo to Fiction Authors–Make Sure It’s Fiction!

Boy did I learn a thing or two after submitting my complete “three-books-in-one” e-book, The Prodigal Band Trilogy, to Lulu.com for publication and distribution! NEVER, and I mean, NEVER, indicate in any way shape or form that anything in your fiction is “based on actual events” or “based on true events”…or, perhaps, “based on a true story.”

Why? Because if you say anything on any copyright page or whatever that anything in the book/novel is based on any actual event, that (unlike the old days when one could write a novel “based on a true story” and call it “fiction”) apparently that is no longer the case.

In these days when it is so easy to “offend” someone–and I’m not just talking so-called “SJWs” here…does no one have the capacity to develop thick skin anymore? Is it against the “law” to develop thick skin these days? In these days when “getting offended” is the prevailing narrative, can a fiction novelist such as myself get into trouble for putting actual “brands” into my novels?

Here are some of the “brands” I have used in my three published books and copyrighted with the Library of Congress:

Musical instrument companies Fender and Gibson–Gibson guitar and Fender bass.

Car companies–Bentley, Rolls Royce, Ferrari, BWM, Mercedes-Benz, Lamborghini and others.

And other brands. But guess what? NONE of these brands appear in The Prodigal Band Trilogy. Why? Because I could be sued for LIBEL! Because someone at one of the instrument “brands” might get “offended” that I used a competitor’s brand in my book! After all, any use of any brand could be construed by someone as being “negative.”

Gee, will someone get offended because one of my band characters is bisexual? And, when he repents of being bisexual, will an actual bisexual be offended?

And then you have record labels and media outfits. Back in the late 90s before zillions of indy recording artist labels came about, I could take an actual record label that had been around since the 1960s and change the spelling of it a bit–no problem. For instance, I could take the actual Atlantic Records label (that Led Zeppelin among others used) and fictionalize it into “Atlantis” and no big deal. Well guess what? Atlantis is now a record label! Found that out on a site called “Discogs” which lists EVERY song by EVERY recording artist on EVERY label that has EVER existed (and even lists VINYL records for sale! Would you believe they still make VINYL records?). So then I had to change that label name to an actual FICTIONAL label name! It only took me two days to figure out what the fictional record label would be! I spent two days on this! Another record label I used had to have its spelling changed as well, because the actual label had a couple of “discogs” listed! I had never heard of this label, but never mind…

And two more days on changing the names of the media conglomerates I mentioned in my novels! Thank God I’m not a best selling author–I’d have been sued a zillion times by now!

Finally, EVERY real person known to be a real person had to be expunged from the e-book. AND I COULD NOT EVEN MENTION THE BEATLES, THE BAND MY FICTIONAL BAND IS FASHIONED AFTER! No Elton John, no Jimi Hendrix, no Jimmy Page, no Kurt Cobain, no actual rock band, no actual pop star (I even removed the late Michael Jackson! Just because…).

No actual business, government department or agency, non-profit org, no actual religious group except for the fact that major religions exist, no actual churches, no mention of actual books, records, movies, works of art, buildings. And no mention of actual presidents, prime ministers, royalty. Even historical figures are taboo..but I did mention William the Conqueror aka William of Normandy. Will that have to be expunged also?

And I am NOT BLAMING LULU.COM for this! I am not blaming Lulu.com for me having to take two weeks to revise my manuscript. Lulu is only doing what any wise online company would do in the day and age of zillions of “libel” suits for no reason. One of my fave news sites has been sued for using a photo without “attribution” to the photographer EVEN THOUGH THE PHOTO CAME FROM A COPYRIGHT-FREE AND ROYALTY-FREE WEBSITE! Because suddenly one day the photographer figured he or she would null the copyright and royalty free status of the photo…just because!

That is why my e-book cover art WILL use a photo that I took in 2009 of a July 4th fireworks show at an actual amusement park at night. Since I can no longer trust actual photographers anymore!

So, my advice is this: before sending any manuscript to Lulu or Kindle or whatever for print or e-book publication, use your fave search engine to see if the company you think does not exist actually does exist. I mean, there are only about a million media outfits these days! Need a record label? Make sure discogs.com doesn’t list it anywhere! If there are only one or two listings, DON’T USE IT! If you need to use an actual well-known person or celebrity, make sure that person is dead! Dead persons cannot sue for libel!

Finally, since you will likely use the name of an actual person who actually exists, make sure you indicate that “names of real people, real places, and real things are used only for fictional purposes.” Instead of using “brands,” use generalizations: car instead of car brand name, hotel instead of actual hotel name, guitar instead of Gibson guitar, etc.

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The Prodigal Band Trilogy E-book to be Uploaded to Lulu.com Tomorrow or Monday

All I have to do now is the “Afterword” or something at the end of the book to explain how this book and the three trilogy original books came about. By Monday the latest, the e-book The Prodigal Band Trilogy–the three-books-in-one e-book that should be available on Amazon Kindle, Kobo (now including WalMart), Barnes and Noble Nook, Lulu and other platforms in a few months, after all the formatting by Lulu’s “team” and cover art is done, and I, the author, gives my okay.

When the e-book is being distributed on various platforms, I will likely reduce the price of both printed books, Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band, but shipping, between four and five dollars, will remain the same.

The FREE PDF The Prodigal Band will remain available for download for Free here.

Above is another possible piece of cover art, based on a photo I took in 2009 at Sea World in San Antonio, Texas. As much as I like Pexels.com, someone I know is now sued by a photographer for “copyright infringement” for using a “free stock photo” from Pexels! Not blaming Pexels here, but apparently that photo he or she posted there was removed by the photographer later so the bogus “suit” could go through. So from here on in, if I need cover art, I’ll just do it myself. And Getty images charges too damned much for the rights to a license over a photo! If Lulu wants to change the cover art that’s up to them.

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E-Book Almost Complete. Now for the Hard Part–Cover Art

Having not posted since December and revising the parts of The Prodigal Band that will be included in my forthcoming e-book, the all-inclusive The Prodigal Band Trilogy, I have completed the proofread and edits using large PDF printing through Word’s export mechanism. One final read-through is on the way and I’ll be sending the completed manuscript to Lulu later this week.

Because I just completed the hardest part of the job–the cover art.

Now I used to be an artist of sorts: I’ve done paintings, silk-screens, airbrush including t-shirts, and drawings, and created the covers for Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band print editions in 1996 and 1998.

The cover art for the FREE PDF e-book The Prodigal Band uses a free stock copyright-free and royalty-free photo from Pexels.com. But I have read about some bloggers and others getting sued for “copyright infringement” when using what they thought were copyright-free photos including a site that is advertising my books for free, and this site has provided hundreds if not thousands of free book downloads as well as book sales. Just knowing a site I trust is being harassed just because law firms love to make money off of phony “copyright infringement” suits brought to bare by shyster photographers and lawyers has turned me away from Pexels and other free-stock-photo sites–at some point, photographers just might want to remove their photos from these sites or the site might remove the photos at photographer request…and then the photographer can sue the user of the once-free stock photos! (In this case, the photographer would have to notify me so I could remove the photo from the e-book cover within a certain time frame.)

In a day and age when “it’s all about the money,” this is not a good time-frame to be using photos or artwork one did not create oneself.

So I went through my entire “pictures” folder of photos taken by me or a loved one on various vacations from cruises to boat rides to graduations to camping trips to whatever and I finally found a photo I took in summer of 2009 at San Antonio’s Sea World at night during a fireworks display. Since the ‘three-books-in-one’ book is about a rock and roll band’s journey to righteousness and victory over evil, I wanted my cover art to feature a bright and overwhelming light above the darkness, and what better image than a fireworks display? Plus there is a pond or water at the bottom of the photo, which represents the “sea” in the Book of Revelation which stands for “the nations.” So, I chose my photo.

Then the problem happened. The photo I chose had 180 dpi, or dots per inch. Lulu’s book packages, as well as self-publishing, requires 300 dpi or greater! Now I had two photos from Pexels (I think) on my computer with 300 dpi, and ALL of my self-produced or family-produced photos were or 180 dpi or less. Most were less than 100!

So, what was I supposed to do while NOT using a Pexel stock photo, or PAYING Getty Images over 100 dollars for ONE STINKIN’ PHOTO? (Because Getty Images requires one to get the usual “premium” pay-to-play account and pay them about 100 dollars when all I needed was one photo! Heck, I have already paid Lulu 800 dollars to assure my book would be distributed over several markets! Because I hate to say it, but if you want results more often than not you must “pay to play.” Because “pay to play” is becoming SOP on the internet!

But then I became the “me” I am and figured–why can’t I turn some photo I am editing in Microsoft Paint into a 300 dpi photo? Believe it or not, one can use Microsoft’s free Paint accessory program to turn any photo in your photo library into a 300 dpi cover art.

Here is how.

And here is what I did. First I recording the pixels for height and width for the photo I wanted to increase the dpi on. One can find this info out by right-clicking on the photo in question, left-click on “properties,” at the bottom of the menu, then left-clicking on details, which shows the pixels for height and width as well as dpi. Jot down the width and height pixel numbers, then open the photo you want to increase dpi for, in Paint, by clicking “Open with” and then choosing “Paint.” Make sure the photo is saved in JPEG or .jpg format! And, while that file is still open, do the same with any file you have in 300 dpi, any 300 dpi photo you have in your library (if you don’t have one, go to Pexels and download one!). Before the edit, though, make sure the 300 dpi photo you will edit has the SAME PIXELS, width and height, as the photo you will paste into it! If not, it won’t work! And what you are going to do is “edit” that 300 dpi photo by copying the photo you want to increase the dpi for and then pasting it in the 300 dpi photo file! Now your original less-than-300-dpi photo (with the same number of width and height pixels) is a 300 dpi photo! All you have to do after that is change the file name when saving it.

To make sure you did it correctly, go here and check their instructions.

And you don’t have to be a good photographer to create your cover art. I should know–I am not a good photographer!

Note that I should have everything for the e-book ready by the end of the week.

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Forthcoming: The Prodigal Band Trilogy-Combined E-book for Sale! And Happy New Year to All Downloaders of My FREE PDF “The Prodigal Band”!

Just checked the stats for the first time in 2019. More downloads of my FREE PDF E-book “The Prodigal Band” than I expected! Thanks for downloading this book! Happy New Year to you all!

But here is why I have no posted since around Christmas when I had been posting articles about my books and the characters: Since late December, I have been working on formatting ALL of the three Prodigal Band Trilogy books, printed and PDF, into ONE E-BOOK, mainly for the sake of those folks I know who simply cannot read the FREE book on their E-Readers (Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, Kobo, etc…folks, it won’t even work on the free Caliber e-reader that Lulu recommends!), and also for those who would rather pay for the two printed books by credit card–I am NOT taking credit card payments, period, because of privacy issues and also hackers…in the last five years our credit card account has been hacked numerous times! All a hacker would have to do is hack into my (possible) PayPal account to screw up a customer–or PayPal could–as has been done to other free speech advocates, for I am a free speech advocate–simply close my (possible) PayPal account, for no reason other than “it’s personal”… So I figure, since I am re-typing the two printed books into Microsoft Word format (that is, Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band), why not re-format the PDF The Prodigal Band as well? All I have to do is re-format the most important parts and “tell” over parts I am not including (the revisions will mean the book section will be about half the size of the original PDF). By the end of January, I will submit the “three books in one” The Prodigal Band Trilogy to Lulu Publishing, the will finish the formatting and whatever else needs to be done, and then distribute the e-book to various e-book sellers (Lulu, Amazon, Barnes and Nobel, Kobo (that is, WalMart and others), etc. and I will link to the sites on my Book Store.

When the project is completed, I will let everyone know! Thanks for your support! Happy New Year and Happy Reading!

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About the Prodigal Band Trilogy-Main Characters-Part 5: the Good

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!

If there is a large number, or a cabal, of evil-doers in my Prodigal Band Trilogy, then there has to be those on the side of good. Good people, good spirits, good angels, starting with God, known in my series as:

The Creator: Also The All Mighty, The Creator, and the One we call God, Who rules all schemes. That is a direct quote from at least one of my books. The Creator, Who rules all schemes, in the case of my books, has His helpers. Just as the Evil, Corion, has his helpers, spiritual and human.

The Tooters: Here is an interesting fact–I named these good angels The Tooters, back in the 70s, before I even knew anything about God’s angels “sounding the trumpets” in the Biblical Book of Revelation! But I named these three angels The Tooters because I had seen several angelic statues seemingly blowing trumpets in several places. And it was this notion of angels blowing trumpets or horns that helped drive my narrative of angels battling demons to put out a fire which burned an entire city in the year 1136 AD. (Why that year? I have no specific reason other than the 1100s in English history presents a lot of turmoil and a lot of peasant revolts many years after Norman Conquest. A conquest by a foreign power almost always has serious ramifications many years later, especially in a place such as England which was, from the Roman period until the 1200s–nearly a thousand years!–under constant threat of conquest: Romans, then Anglo-Saxons, the Vikings (Danelaw), then the Normans.) While The Tooters are a granite three-part statue, this statue is the portal or gateway through which the evil Demons first arrived that year and through which the three good angles then appeared, put the fire out, and prevented the Demons from returning to their Abyss–as they prevented the Demons, on God’s orders, from ever doing such a thing again. They would also keep Corion in check.

Morwenna, aka ‘the Witch of the Hovels’: As ‘the Witch of the Hovels’ (called that by locals who believed a ‘witch’ inhabited the Hovels, a slum for the indebted), she was a spirit that existed as a human at various times when necessary. As a witch, only chosen individuals could see her, hear her, talk to her, and feel her. When necessary, the witch was the human, Morwenna, who could be seen by all, but still would only contact those chosen by The Tooters for contact. As Morwenna she was young, but would grow old to the point where she became a spirit being.

Why female spirits, when the Bible says angels were the ‘Sons of God’ and were male only? In my original printed versions of both Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band, I made a serious misinterpretation of the Bible with Zechariah 5:9, which talks about female spirits, and since Babylon is also referenced, I now assume these were evil spirits as with the Whore of Babylon in Revelation 17 and 18. In both of my books, The Tooters appear to be female due to this misinterpretation (and several Christian friends who I had review the first book pointed this out; still I refused to listen and put female Tooters in the next book!). That mistake was removed in The Prodigal Band. Still, I decided to keep Morwenna female, as ‘witches’ are considered female, and who is to say those female spirits in Zechariah 5:9 are truly evil?

In any case, both The Tooters and Morwenna are the guiding forces for my fictitious band to seek truth and good, and renounce evil.

And then there are the narrators, one of whom is an angel in human form–the Bible references angels in human form in many places: the angels who spoke to Abram/Abraham, the angles who prevented Lot from letting sexual perverts into his house before Sodom and Gomorrah were burned, the fallen ‘Genesis Six’ angles who mated with the ‘daughters of men’ and thus created ‘the giants’ (called Nephilim), various angles such as Michael who spoke to Biblical prophets such as Ezekiel, Gabriel, who told Mary she was ‘with child’ (Jesus) before she even had sex with Joseph–all of these angels presented themselves as male humans.

Jay Elliot, also known as the ‘Counselor Angel,’ is the narrator of The Prophesied Band while being a Rolling Stone free-lance reporter (and Counselor Angel in Battle of the Band). Among other human jobs he has, he is the one that tries to convince the fictitious band, Sound Unltd, that they are ‘the prophesied band’ heralded in a previous fictitious hit song of the early 80s.

Lloyd Denholm, fully human and also Christian, is another Rolling Stone writer who eventually gets to help the band see righteousness, with Jay Elliot’s help. It begins with Denholm debunking the notion made by phony Christian preachers that Sound Unltd are ‘devil worshipers’ (a notion that gets repeated over and over when it comes to actual rock stars–sorry, they may want fame and fortune more than anything, but that doesn’t mean they are ‘devil worshipers’! Some are, of course, but not all, and, further, even rock stars are capable of repenting and accepting Christ. So there!).

Those notions are part and parcel with my book series–to speak of how and why we all need to accept Christ as Savior (Christ, not religion) and why ANYONE, even evil people, can repent and accept Christ. It is my job, not to actually convert anyone, but to try to get folks to consider it, and the benefits thereof. So far my FREE PDF e-book The Prodigal Band has been downloaded hundreds of times by what my stats tell me, so that’s a start.

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Merry Christmas to All Followers and Readers of This Site and My Books!

Remember–Jesus is the Reason for the Season! Be Blessed!

And don’t forget to download my FREE PDF e-book The Prodigal Band here. You can read more about the book here.

Will post more about my book series Tuesday or Wednesday. Cheers!

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About the Prodigal Band Trilogy–Main Characters-Part 4: the Evil

With this trilogy or series of novels themed primarily as a battle between good and evil, there must be an evil side. As I stated in a previous post, when the first novel, Battle of the Band, was being finalized, I began researching what forces might have been behind the events at Ruby Ridge in Idaho, the David Koresh cult church in Waco, Texas, and the various militia groups tied to the Oklahoma City bombing, the last two events of which happened under President Bill Clinton, as well as former President George HW Bush, who was the first world leader I ever heard mention ‘new world order,’ and was president during Ruby Ridge. Did Bush’s ‘new world order’ speech cause various militia groups to be formed as a response to increasing globalization toward a ‘one-world-government’? Such a scenario is prophesied in the Book of Revelation–that an ‘anti-Christ’ would unite the world under a false peace and then turn the world on its head in an orgy of death and destruction to all whom opposed this one-world-government run by evil. For it is research into Bible prophecy that caused me to consider this battle between good and evil as the theme for my books.

There are several ‘one-world-government’ or globalist organizations that, in my research, became well-known to me in the 1990s–the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission, and the Bilderbergers, and others. They all seem to work together and all seem to contain world leaders, politically, economically, militarily, and even culturally. There were or are even entertainment celebrities that have been involved in these groups, most notably Angelina Jolie, a CFR member. A rock star, U-2’s frontman, Bono, is also notable to have been seen around oligarchs like Bill Gates and even the Pope.

It is not that world unity or world peace is a bad thing. But what makes a one-world-government or ‘new world order’ a bad thing is that it will ultimately be led by evil forces, headlined by the Dragon (Satan, the anti-Christ), the Beast (a one-world-system designed to eradicate belief in Christ and destroy individual freedom and liberty in favor of collectivism), and the False Prophet (a religious or spiritual leader who will cause even believers in Christ to ‘fall away’ and buy into Satan as ‘the false messiah’). And what better way to lead especially young people to evil than by using popular culture icons–such as rock stars–to carry out this agenda?

And not just rock stars–these days, rap and hip-hop almost seem to have taken over pop culture from rock music, which has ruled pop culture since the days of the Beatles. Beginning in the 2010s, gangsta rap and hip-hop appear to be much more prominent, as well as pop icons like Beyoncé and Jay-Z and Kanye West. But, rap, hip-hop and the three icons I mentioned are all black. I am white, I do not listen to rap and hip-hop and Beyoncé and them, and I began my book timelines in mainly the 1980s into the 1990s–therefore, it would make no sense to write novels about black rappers or hip-hoppers or folks like Beyoncé. Further, in Britain and Europe anyway, rock music is still prominent, and in Asia, is becoming far more prominent. Some of rock music’s most prominent acts these days are from Japan and Korea.

However, the main reason my main characters are rock musicians in a Beatles-like super band is that so many people who follow popular culture today, and have followed it for years, truly believe rock music is a huge reason why evil has taken over world events. You Tube video after You Tube video purports to ‘prove’ that rock and roll is ‘the devil’s music’ and that rock stars are all ‘devil worshipers’ and, therefore, have no chance of salvation through repentance and taking Jesus Christ as Savior. This mindset, in my opinion, is full of fallacy. As I state in ‘The Prodigal Band’ toward the end of the book, some of Christ’s most important apostles were either wealthy ship-fleet owners or sons of such (such as Peter, owner of a fishing fleet, and James and John, sons of fleet owner Zebedee), or wealthy or prominent community leaders or officials (such as Matthew, a tax collector; Zacchaeus, chief tax collector and wealthy man; Jairus, temple leader; the Centurion, a Roman, and Nicodemus, a Pharisee). Then, you have folks like Mary Magdalene, a prostitute and a woman possessed by demons, possibly even a devil worshiper. The fallacy that members of the elites, or members of morally corrupt groupings, or both–such as wealthy, ‘devil worshiping’ rock stars–can never be saved because they carry out Satan’s agenda to morally corrupt the young for fame and fortune, is indeed, a fallacy.

Very likely there are few rock stars that have accepted Christ as Savior. Supposedly a guitarist for the death metal band Mega Death–I forget his name but he is mentioned in these videos– has openly avowed belief on Christ. So has rapper DMX. These two are likely two of the more prominent music celebrities that have. Some videos claim others have claimed that as well, but are faking it. Folks, it is difficult in a popular culture ruled by the ‘almighty dollar’ for a star celebrity to give all that fame and fortune up to truly accept the Way of Christ. But it is possible–yet one must give up the debauched lifestyle that one had led previously, and that is not easy.

So that, while it is unlikely that a star celebrity would give all that up to serve Christ, it is still a possibility, and to deny that such a thing could happen, to me is a fallacy, and a false belief that needs to be repented. To believe such a thing, in my opinion, is evil! For anybody can accept Jesus as Savior, and didn’t Jesus come to save the sinner?

As one of my characters mentioned earlier, Billy Preston, former band manager, says toward the end of ‘The Prophesied Band,’ to his former charges–“It’s not how you start, but how you finish.”

I will discuss my ‘evil’ characters and groups in the next post.

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About the Prodigal Band Trilogy–Main Characters-Part 3: Support Characters and Women

While not quite as important to the novels as the six band members of Sound Unltd, all big-time rock bands or rappers or pop singers or whatever have ‘administrative staff’–managers, road managers, roadies, producers, promoters, accountants, lawyers, consultants, and what not. A few of these types of support staff personnel within the three books are important characters that appear in all three books. And they are–

Manager Joe Phillips, son of a banker-oligarch who heads the ‘evil side’ (I will get into my ‘evil’ characters in the next post), and has the pony-tailed ‘Laurence Olivier’ look, with typical upper-class London accent. While he is descended from an evil family, he is opposed to this evil. But his family influence definitely aids the band into reaching huge success.

Former manager and mentor Billy Preston is the man who helped put the band together in the early 1980s and also adopted two of the band members, Jack and Tom, who came from poverty-stricken and abusive or neglectful families. Preston is mostly bald and rather plump, whereas Phillips is thin. Preston appears in all three books, primarily in The Prophesied Band and The Prodigal Band.

Road manager Billy Hallslip is a prominent character in The Prodigal Band, is rather short, porcine, has a Cockney accent, dresses weird and is actually the manager until Phillips takes over.

Chet and Stu, head roadies, are Hell’s Angels bikers, large and brutish, with north London accents and tend to get into bar fights. Bry is their boss and he has to bail them out at times. Some roadies are full-time, but many are part-time or even fan-temporaries.

Bobby is one of the ‘fan-temp’ roadies, who not only ‘baby-sits’ some of the band on road trips, but also helps the band later while they are on their ‘righteous journey.’ Bobby is a teen, and is also into the occult before he goes to jail for robbery and is set straight by a Christian convict.

Pearson, Rogers, and Rudi are important ‘personal assistant-butler’ types who help some of the band members get over drug or alcohol addiction, and other supports.

There are also many rival and friendly rockers, groupies, ‘lovers’ of various sorts, old friends and even family members, including children, that appear at varying degrees in all three books.

The Women

There are four primary female characters that appear in all three novels, to varying degrees. All become successful super models–matching the stereotypical meme that rock stars date super models, if not actresses. And all create their own business models–cosmetics, clothing lines, jewelry lines, body boutiques and the like–to become as successful as their men.

Ger, which is pronounced ‘Jer,’ is Erik’s ‘something,’ his ‘queen’ so to speak, originally from central London from a middle-class background, is medium height as he is, with ‘bedroom eyes’ and ‘sultry-sexy’ look about her, with page-boy brown medium-length hair. Of the four women, she is the most prominent. Her original name was ‘Geri’ but I decided to shorten it.

Laurie is Jack’s woman, but he doesn’t always treat her as well as he should, suspecting her of infidelity and having a lack of trust, which later backfires on him. She is gorgeous, long haired-blonde, tall, skinny and sexy, with a toughie voice and lurid smile. She is the first super-model of the four. As a teen, she is neglected by her father, and she lost her mother at a young age.

Jarris is Keith’s girl and marriage partner, abused by her own father which forces her to become very tough and thick-skinned, with flowing red hair and high-pitched voice, and very skinny even before she started modeling and later developed several profitable businesses. She and Laurie are often antagonists, but friends the same.

Mo is Bryan’s wife, though their marriage is rocky despite having three boys. While Bryan’s folks are confirmed atheists, Mo’s father is an Anglican vicar! Only her father calls her by her real name, Maureen. She is red haired, medium length, large boned, but thin enough to model. She is manipulative when it comes to her husband, with consequences for both.

Other women-

There are several groupies mentioned, but one in particular stands out–Princess Tina of the fictitious principality called Leandro, set inside the Italian peninsula. She is Tom’s ‘only love’ and due to his ‘low birth’ he must meet with her in secret. He has a very good reason for wanting to associate with her and her kind, aristocrats and other wealthy folks. Another one that becomes important and is in The Prodigal Band is Julie, a classmate of Mick’s in Music School and later a lover. She plays first chair violin in the city orchestra.

And finally there is Morwenna, but she is as much spiritual in nature as human, and will be discussed in a future post.

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To Heck With the ‘Consensus’: Try it Anyway

There are Blogs or Sites within the writer-author community here on WordPress doing great, and there are those not doing great, just as there are authors mega-selling and those who aren’t. I’m not going to get into the reasons for that (except to say that if you aren’t a ‘celebrity’ you’re likely not going to be a ‘mega-seller’ until you become one!)

And how does one become a ‘celebrity’? I’ll sum it up in one word: consensus.

Here is how the consensus works, for examples.

The consensus ‘greatest rock band of all time’ is the Beatles, and nothing any other rock band does is going to change that, even if some band comes along in five years to revive this music genre that has–mainstream, anyway–fallen by the wayside somewhat as ‘everyone’ (according to the consensus) has now made rap, hip-hop, or ‘pop’ music their favorite (again, I’m not going to get into why this has happened, but I think it’s obvious why this has happened. The proof? Guitar companies like Gibson have declared bankruptcy, and guitar seller-outlets have also…because rock music isn’t THE popular genre it once was). Remember, this is the consensus, not necessarily the truth. And another thing: this is only true ‘consensus-wise’ in the US. In Europe it is still likely number one, and it has been growing in Asia for years.

The consensus ‘greatest guitar player’ in rock history is Jimi Hendrix.

My opinion? Hendrix IS the greatest guitarist in rock history, while I DISAGREE that the Beatles are the greatest rock band in history. While NO ROCK GUITARIST could play like Hendrix could back then, or in the 70s, 80s, 90s or today–could Page or Clapton or Walsh or Vaughn play his guitar like Hendrix played the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ at Woodstock? I  doubt it! So then why would the consensus claim the Beatles are the greatest rock band in history? Influence. Not talent, not music-writing, not stage performances (and the Beatles stopped touring in 1966 anyway! Too much Maharishi?), or personality (though John Lennon certainly tried here). Influence? Basically, as I’ve already states on other posts, the Beatles revived the genre that was already fading by 1963-64 what with most ‘Billboard’ chart-toppers being ‘boy meets girl’ tripe (and enough one-hit-wonders to make it tripe…thanks, American Bandstand!). Then came the Beatles and the so-called ‘British Invasion,’ which also revived the best of the American groups including the Four Seasons, Jay and the Americans, Bob Dylan, and a host of mostly Afro-groups and pop-soul stuff such as by the Supremes and the Four Tops and others.  Add to that the Beatles influence in the ‘psychedelicizing’ (as the Chambers Brothers would put it in their monster hit, ‘Time Has Come Today’) during the late 60s, new age stuff contrasted to Lennon’s huge faux pas in denigrating Christ in 1965 which nearly led to the out-casting of the Fab Four in the US on radio anyway, and Lennon’s ‘anti-war’ stances, again contrasted to George Harrison’s support for the Bangladesh ‘independence’ movement from Pakistan (and dependence on India…some even claim Harrison was a proxy agent for the Indian government under the Maharishi’s guidance!) and his crapola ‘My Sweet Lord’ nonsense supporting Hari Krishna’s cult (I had a friend who was victimized by this cult, and I do NOT appreciate Harrison’s promotion of this cult!)

Whether or not the Beatles are the greatest band ever by the consensus and whether or not you believe this (I don’t) doesn’t matter. What matters is how the consensus influences one’s thinking, one’s conformity (as I am someone who prefers non-conformity), and one’s buying habits. And one’s writing habits or creative habits, as well.

Don’t write something just because ‘the consensus’ would prefer that you do. Stephen King and Kurt Vonnegut–two of America’s greatest fiction writers IMHO, to heck with ‘the consensus’–wrote what they wanted or were inspired to despite what a so-called ‘consensus’ wanted. In the 1990s virtually nobody self-published with printed novels (and only James Redfield of “Celestine Prophesy’ fame made it big in this business!), but I did so anyway because I was inspired to despite NOT having lots of money to do this. Today, anyone can self-publish, including in print (Lulu.com has some really affordable print-e-book programs if you want to check it out). I’d like to say these days ‘the consensus’ is meaningless, but I won’t, because it is only meaningless for me, a non-conformist and proud of it.

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Want More Views (and book sales)? Post Links to Your Sites in Comment Boxes!

Believe it or not, I have had many more referrals and clicks to this website, including referrals marked “Download FREE PDF e-book The Prodigal Band” from websites where I have posted comments with links to omegabooksnet.com or my free PDF e-book ‘The Prodigal Band’–meaning, if I post a link to this page or other pages including “bookstore’, I get referrals from these sites!

If one is discouraged by lack of referrals and views to their sites (or book sales), try this method if you haven’t already. Never be discouraged, a famous hymn says–‘Take it to the Lord on prayer.’

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About the Prodigal Band Trilogy–Main Characters-Part 2: the Band

The fictitious rock and roll band that is on a journey to either choosing a good vs. evil path that ultimately all must take at some point called–for a very good reason–Sound Unltd, consists of six musicians of worthy talent, ambition, drive, and goals, with an instrument make up resembling most rock bands regardless of origin: guitarists–in this case, two–bass, percussion, keyboard-synthesizer, and lead singer/frontman. Since the time of the Beatles, this has been the usual configuration, more or less. Some of the six can play other instruments, as well, and some also have classical or operatic training. Three of the six come from musical families.

Descriptions of the band members:

I will offer physical descriptions two ways: one by actual overall description in word, and also a comparison to actual rock musicians or singers that should be well known…that is, character A looks like or plays his instrument like “so-and-so.” The word description of each band member comes from the beginning of the Prologue of ‘The Prodigal Band’, and I will name the character within the description:

“A lead singer (Erik) with dark brown shoulder-length hair accentuated by sensuous bangs on a baby-face was slender, thin-lipped and of medium height. Voice a Godly gift. Yet, some said, the devil’s tool.”  Within The Prodigal Band I compare his looks to Elvis Presley, but a lot skinnier; plus he has a Nordic complexion. His mother is from Norway, thus his name is spelled with a ‘k’ and not the usual ‘c’ ending. His voice is also similar to Elvis, deep and rich sounding.

“A tall, angular-faced guitarist (Jack) possessed dirty-blond hair now growing on once-shaved sides of his head. Now without the screaming instrument he fired into immortality.” I don’t really have an actual guitarist he resembles, but as for his playing style, it is not quite Hendrix, but still innovative, and has various qualities one would expect from Clapton, Page, Townsend, Walsh, or Prince.

“The dark, strapping bass guitar player (Keith) with bushy black hair and dark-coal eyes walked without his trademark gold chains.” The closest comparison to a renowned bassist is Jack Bruce of Cream, who, in my opinion, is the best bassist in rock history. And, for the sake of diversity which is rampant in England since the 60s, Keith’s grandmother is African, from Nigeria. I made Keith part-black while I was writing ‘Battle of the Band,’ but I did not stress this change until ‘The Prodigal Band’, where I bring up the issue or racism–I hate racism of any kind! As for looks, he certainly isn’t as dark as Hendrix! He and Erik call each other ‘bro.’

“The tall, lanky, beak-nosed, ringlet-haired album producer and master of many guitars (Mick) worried over his past perversions.” Mick is a cross physically between Jimmy Page, Alice Cooper, and Ozzie Osbourne, but much taller and skinnier (his nickname is ‘Skinny’). As with Page, he is an occultist, more or less. Jimmy Page bought occult cult leader Aleister Crowley’s Loch Ness occult estate, while in the books, Mick lives in an ancient occultist castle in the Cambrian Mountains of Wales near a burial site of an ancient Celtic occult high priest. The supposedly satanic memes of Page’s Led Zeppelin also provide a comparison for my fictitious band.

“The pot-bellied, biker-esque keyboard-synthesizer player (Bryan) famed for red hair wild as the wind, fiery as his brew, bore a downcast of regret.” I really cannot think of a keyboard-synth or piano player in rock music that has a similar description, but he does look like a typical Hell’s Angels biker. His nickname is ‘Bry’ or ‘Redbeard.’ As for playing style, his style reminds me of the keyboardist for Dire Straits, but the keyboardist of the previously referenced 60s group the Animals, Alan Price, is also a reference here, if you remember back to those days. Plus, he also plays Northumberland bagpipes and some horned instruments.

“A short, curly-blond percussionist (Tom) once angered by lost love approached with the others to an unknown destination, glad with a full life behind him.” The closest resemblance here is to Ginger Baker, rock and roll’s version of the greatest drummer of all time, Gene Krupa, who was the drummer for Benny Goodman’s Orchestra, an icon of the ‘big band era’ of the late 1930s and 1940s. Plus, Tom also looks kind of like Baker, with blonder and curlier hair, and shorter a well. Tom’s nickname is ‘Shorty.’

Music style–One reason I named them ‘Sound Unltd’ is that they can play virtually any rock and roll style, from fifties throw-back to progressive-psychedelic-late 60s to heavy metal to punk to new wave to grunge to rock-rap to even orchestral and rock-aria and operatic. There is a scene in ‘The Prophesied Band’ where the narrator, a fictitious ‘Rolling Stone’ reporter, imagines lead singer Erik on operatic stage while performing a rock aria he wrote. Their stage performances resemble the gigs of the 90s, with all the pyrotechnics, raunchy stage-mic stand-sex antics, guitar-bashing (first performed by the Who’s Pete Townsend in the 60s), faked amp burning, and other attention seeking behaviors.

Music influences–The Beatles, certainly, but also Mick Jagger’s notorious stage antics, and Led Zeppelin’s supposedly occultist influences as well. Other influences include Kurt Cobain and Nirvana, Prince–who is one heckuva musician–Michael Jackson even, with his dancing on stage, and, of course, Jimi Hendrix…there will never be another guitarist like him!

That’s all I’m going to say about the characters and their personalities. If you want to really know their personalities, read the books! Hint: my own daughter loves these guys! Maybe so will you.

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About the Prodigal Band Trilogy: the Main Characters, Part 1

In the previous post and other various posts, I stated that my main characters morphed from a gang or clique of boys in the area I grew up, Long Island and New York City, to rock musicians from England–a decision influenced by, first, the fact that I actually made it into a local band; second, rock music was my main connection to youth culture of my generation (60s and 70s); third, my fave bands of that era–and the most influential bands of that era–were Brits, and I had visited England as well as attended the 1970 Isle of Wight Rock Festival which featured the Who, Traffic, ELP, Led Zeppelin, and Jimi Hendrix (who died in London a few weeks later) and others of note (some whom I missed since we had to leave early to get the flight back to the States).

That the most influential rock bands of that era were from England was a major reason my fictional band, Sound Untd, is from England. And what band from that era had the most influence on how I constructed my fictional band? Why, the Beatles of course! The so-called Fab Four–whom many claim are the greatest rock band of all time…basically re-invigorated the genre leading the so-called ‘British Invasion’ in 1963-64 as rock music in the States had been, IMHO, flat-lining since the plane crash of Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and Ritchie Valens in 1958. One doesn’t need to read the ‘Rolling Stone History of Rock and Roll’ books to know that from 1959 until the Beatles, rock was tripe, was cutesy-wootsey, was just ‘boy meets girl, boy ‘dances’ girl’ stuff (and you know what they mean by ‘dance’–having sex, right?), with a few true rock outfits to keep the genre alive (Del Shannon, Dion and the Belmonts, Beach Boys and a few others). Folks, it wasn’t until the Beatles came around–and the groups that followed them–that I had any interest in rock music at all. With the arrival of the Beatles, my world–and the world of my friends–became consumed by listening to the radio and records, reading ‘fan magazines,’ including the British one called ‘Melody Maker,’ and even getting together and pretending we were the Beatles on stage as the Beatles records played on victrolas or stereos (and not just the Beatles, either) in bedrooms or basements. It was this “pretending” to be John or Paul or George that would later give me the idea of learning guitar.

It was the Beatles and the other groups that helped me to grow up amongst my peers and not just be the loner, sort of, that I had been before. Finally, I was able to ‘fit in.’ Finally, I became interested, somewhat, in boys–it would take several years, however, before boys became interested in me. I wasn’t exactly a ‘hot date’ if you know what I mean. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school that I even thought I was good-looking enough (despite my acne) and finally landed a boyfriend of sorts (whose acne was even worse, but anyway…). Oh, as for my friends–most were better looking than me, and one of them, who looked like the model ‘Twiggy,’ (remember her? And she appeared in the movie ‘Blues Brothers’ as well toward the end), actually had a rock musician boyfriend–lead singer and lead guitar, of course. Another friend also dated once or twice another band singer who graduated the year before I did. And another friend had her band and she could sing like Janis Joplin! So, folks, since I knew I had writing talent since I’d been writing since the age of 8 or so, what better way to get the ball rolling than to write fiction stuff about an imaginary rock band?

But from England…but where in England?

My fictitious band absolutely could NOT be from Liverpool because that’s where the Beatles are from, and because they spoke with one of the weirdest accents on God’s green earth–Scouse. Sing-songy, to the point of crazy (and yes, folks, out here where I live a recent property owner just happened to be from Liverpool). And anyway, no way was my group going to be from where the Beatles were. London? Nope. Several bands, especially the Rolling Stones, were from London and, as with the Beatles, the Stones were prominent enough to where they, too, would be a serious influence on how my band was created. Manchester? A group that hit it huge for about a year, Hermann’s Hermits, was from there, but after a while they just did what I thought was tripe. And it seemed to me that most of these British Invasion groups were from either Liverpool, London, or Manchester.

Another group from another part of England hit it big in the summer and fall of 1964, and this group did some very interesting–and different–music, more bluesy, and with a really, really good keyboard player that really titillated my ears–the Animals, whose first hit was a remake of the Bob Dylan song, ‘House of the Rising Sun.’ Later songs had a bluesy style, such as ‘Boom Boom’ and ‘Bo Diddley.’ I saw them one night on the Ed Sullivan Show, and, after performing, Sullivan started to interview them, and–well, talk about weird accents! Neither I–nor by the looks of it, Sullivan–could understand about half of what they said, but it turned out they were from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, which is way up north and close to Scotland. In fact, the accent had a Scottish lilt to it–and that was the fascinating part. Their music, and their accent.

Then, in 1970–and I’ve stated this in a previous post as well–the night before taking the ferry from Portsmouth (I think, or South Hampton) to the Isle of Wight, I just happened to meet three guys from Newcastle, and while one of them was hard to understand, the others were easier–but still, they spoke with that fascinating accent, called Geordie. Several years later after meeting some folks from Scotland, they told me the Geordie accent (and there is a dialect, as well, but I won’t get into that) was very similar to and actually derived somewhat from Scottish. Historically it makes sense: Hadrian’s Wall, which the Tyneside town of Wallsend is named for, was in fact the old time border between England and Scotland. The portion of the county of Northumberland (or Northumbria) north of that wall was part of Scotland off and on for centuries, and was finally incorporated into England in 1744, the days of ‘Bonnie Prince Charley” and that war. And, the more I hear Geordie (YouTube videos and the like), the more I’m glad I chose that area and that accent for my characters in the band.

They come from the fictitious city of Walltown (south of Wallsend on the Tyne river where they build boats and stuff, and east of Newcastle), and the main tourist attraction of this fictitious city is an angelic statue called The Tooters (referencing the horn-blowing angels in the Book of Revelation). Well guess what? Across from Newcastle is Gateshead, and it just so happens that the main tourist attraction in Gateshead is–and angelic statue! (The thing is, it looks more like a bird, but at least it has wings, if not horns). And bear in mind I didn’t know ANY of this when I started writing my book(s)!

Finally, why did I call my group ‘Sound Unltd’? The original name for the group was the actual original name in my books, the Smash. Later, I changed it to ‘Smash Unltd’ (you do realize ‘unltd’ is short for ‘unlimited,’ right?). Two things caused me to change it to ‘Sound Unltd’–one, the fact that a group called ‘Sounds Incorporated’ existed in the 60s (of course, they never made it here), and that spiritual inspiration that came to me in the early 90s. Further, the name Sound Unltd is so ‘pretentious sounding’ that I figured no one would ever call themselves by that name, and so far, no one has–and they better not, since the name exists in copyrighted manuscripts! I do hope I never to lay out a couple o’ hundred dollars to trademark it!

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Posting Links on Facebook? Yep, Folks, I DO Have a Facebook Page After All

Now I’m not being cutesy-wootsy here. I am 66 years old and I have a Facebook page? Heck, it’s even called “OmegaBooks!” I’ve had this page for about eight months and being so “tech ignorant” I didn’t even know one could push a “Facebook” button at the bottom of the post and link to the article on Facebook. Here is the link to the Facebook page.

Now, why does some old lady need a Facebook page? Because I’m learning how to do things MARKETING-wise using a technology I’m not very good at. Why not take the risk and make a Facebook page to help promote my books? After all, I am a month or so away from getting my two printed books Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band formatted and uploaded to e-book sellers. Why not?

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About The Prodigal Band Trilogy: The Theme-Good Triumphs over Evil

I began writing a book that would eventually work its way into three books that make up the Prodigal Band Trilogy–Battle of the Band, The Prophesied Band, and The Prodigal Band–back in the late 1960s in diary form as the characters morphed from just a group of guys in a gang or a clique, with or without girlfriends, living on Long Island-then-New York City, to rock musicians with or without girlfriends, living in England. Why the morph? Because of my own interest in rock music as well as actually having participated in a local band for a few months, and having gone to England in 1970, as well as the notion I had the rock bands from England were more worthy overall than American ones (and Brit bands were my fave bands anyway.) These topics have been discussed in previous posts here and on my blog.

The names and looks of the characters were created in the mid-60s with other characters being created in the mid-80s, which was when I started getting serious about the books, which was still just one book novel. But instead of a diary to write stuff that would later make up the book(s), I just wrote on notepad paper with pen.

In the meantime, I had a teaching job–more than one–and children, which of course took precedence over novel writing. Then came the use of an old 48K Atari computer that I typed ten chapters on, and, really, the whole thing was random…this character did this and that character did that and it was as if it was just a satire on the lives and loves of rock musician celebrities. It was funny, but meaningless in a way. At that point in the early 90s what I was typing onto 4.5 inch floppy discs was just a matter of getting these characters out of my head onto printer paper.

I do not remember the year–1992? 1993?–that I went outside one night and the spirit of the theme took over my head, “telling me” to remake the book(s) into a fight between the forces of good and the forces of evil. One problem–if this was going to be about a rock band, Brit or not, then I had to get with ‘the program’ so to speak because by the early 90s I had lost touch with rock music…the last I remembered was punk and new wave of the early 80s. Living in a rural remote area of far west Texas–where country music reigns supreme and rock music is considered by the hardcore fundamentalist Christians out here as some kind of devil worship (!)–I had no idea how rock music was evolving into what in the 90s was called ‘grunge’ or ‘rock-rap’ or ‘death metal’ or ‘emo’ or whatever. Until 1994, when I got a teaching job in a gang-ridden high school in El Paso. The job sucked, but the themes rustling around in the pop culture world of the high school didn’t. The majority of my students were Hispanic and at the time a female singer from south Texas, Hispanic–I don’t remember her name but she was huge among my students–was the rage, as was rap, especially among the few black students I had. But I did have some white kids as well, mostly children of Fort Bliss parents–these kids were into, primarily, Nirvana with Kurt Cobain–a major influence on my characterizations–and grunge groups like Nine Inch Nails and Green Day. All American groups–what happened to the Brits? Well, it turned out, I discovered, that the Brit bands from the latter 80s were still around.

And that, my friends, is why my fictional band, Sound Unltd, stemmed from the 1980s. Originally, they were supposed to be late 60s-70s group, but rock music had changed so much since then that I did not think it would be wise to make them a 60s-70s group.

Then, when I really began to get really serious after resigning the El Paso teaching job and moving back to the rural remote in 1995, I had a decision to make–just write a satirical book making fun of rock stars and celebrities with all the fun of sex scenes, orgies, drug use, and sex-drug-rock-n’-roll themes, or write a book or books exposing the fallacy so many who lived in my area believed to be true–that rock stars are all devil worshipers, and rock music was the ‘devil’s music.’ And more.

Around the same time, what with events like Ruby Ridge, Waco, and the Oklahoma City bombing–all around the time of a series of Satanic holidays beginning April 19 and ending with Beltane, Walpurgis Night, and May 1–and the so-called “Patriot Movement” against the so-called ‘New World Order’ (spear-headed by both Presidents George HW Bush with his 1989 ‘New World Order’ speech and Bill Clinton’s screeds about globalism throughout the1990s)–I felt it might be another good idea to incorporate an ‘Illuminati-CFR-Bilderberg-type’ organization into the mix, representing the ‘evil’ side…I mean, the symbolism they use–the ‘All-Seeing-Eye’ on the dollar bill and all atop a pyramid with the Latin phrase within-“ANNUIT COEPTIS NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM”–which means, “Announcing the Birth of the New World Order” (or some say, “New Order of the Ages.”). And, having read Biblical prophecy and growing more interested in the possibility that the so-called “end times” were getting closer to fruition, I figured this whole notion of “one world government” was not just some conspiracy theory, but getting closer–and who would lead this one world government? Those who clearly sought power and likely had the money to buy power–bankers and their minions in government and also the media and entertainment industries–and would willingly side with ‘the anti-Christ’ at the end.

Just a note here: the Biblical Book of Revelation, on which so much ‘end times prophecy’ is based, mentions three parts of the so-called “Beast System” which has to exist for all this prophecy to occur: the Dragon (Satan, or the Anti-Christ, or some person Satan/the anti-Christ inhabits), the Beast (which I suppose is a system that supports Satan) and the False Prophet (and there are all sorts of theories as to who or what the False Prophet is!). Thus, it is this notion of an evil system that provides the novel’s notion of ‘bad guys.’ And, according to prophecy, after the anti-Christ comes and sits in the temple in Jerusalem, the true Messiah, Christ–accompanied by a huge number of good angels–returns in the ‘second coming’ to overthrow the evil. Prior to this happening, all humanity must make a choice–side with evil or side with good.

And that, folks, is the overarching theme of my books–my fictitious rock band of world-wide renown must make that same decision before it is too late. The Prodigal Band Trilogy is their journey to that decision, and what they do with it.

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Being a ‘Non-Conformist’ Author: You Don’t Always Have to ‘Follow the Script’

In the mid-1990s I joined a local far west Texas writer’s group called ‘Texas Mountain Trail Writers.’ While working on the first printed novel I would call Battle of the Band, I needed ‘tutoring’ so-to-speak on absolutely what had to go into the novel to make it a legitimate novel, to market and sell the thing–that is, get some literary agent to ‘sell’ it to a big time publisher. No literary agent came a-calling, so I had to do it myself.

And this was what I picked up in all of these discussions and even annual writer conferences, which I will now list:

  1. ‘Show, don’t tell.’ Anyone who writes novels or books knows what this means. And I believe in ‘show, don’t tell,’  but there are times the ‘tell’ part has to be used perhaps  more than some would find acceptable, as I discovered finishing up my first book.
  2. Your setting must be a setting one is familiar with. After all, aren’t most of Stephen King’s novels set in Maine, where he is from? (And why do I always use Stephen King as an example? Because other than literary genius Kurt Vonnegut–from Ithica, New York (quite a few of his books are set in that part of New York state)–no writer has influenced me to write than the best suspense-si-fi-horror novelist in US history.
  3. Your characters must be from the setting you use that must be one you are familiar with.  Not all, but many of King’s characters are from Maine, or at least New England.
  4. Your characters, because you must know your characters–especially the main ones–must be part of you and even as you are. (Characterization)
  5. Dialogue–your characters must speak in a way that characters from a particular setting would speak, thus you must know how these characters would speak, which is why they ought to come from a particular familiar setting. Further, you characters must speak in a way that it is obvious for that character and the reader knows that is how the character talks. Use catch-phrases as well.
  6. Genre–this is the item that has and will give me the most headache. My books are not genre specific, but a mix of spiritual/satire/adult-rated R not X/horror/suspense/fantasy, so that could be why no literary agent touched my books–literary agents tend to be genre specific, or at least that’s what I was told by the first published author I ever met, a romance novelist (with plenty of the required ‘sexual tension.’)
  7. Theme–The only way I can describe any theme in my books is this: good triumphing over evil. If it isn’t ‘good vs. evil’ in fiction, then I am not writing it-ultimately, good vs. evil is the only issue that matters to me.
  8. Plot–Within the realm of the physical and mental and real and spiritual worlds, the plot revolves around an 80s-90s rock and roll band that, upon achieving great success, must choose their good vs. evil path, with triumphs, trials and tribulations along the way. Because they are ‘rock stars,’ they are ‘gonna do what a rock star is gonna do.’ Which is why these novels are adult–sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll–and not young adult or Christian or rated G. Sorry about that, but if my characters are going to be real, they’re just gonna have to cuss every now and then, or engage in free sex–and one of my characters is bi-sexual, by the way.

Did I miss anything?

So, here is where I ‘go off the reservation’ so-to-speak. ‘Show, don’t tell’? Who gets to decide if you I don’t show enough and tell too much? Folks, I have NEVER read a novel without some ‘tell,’ okay? Read JRR Tolkein’s “Silmarillion’ some time…there is so much ‘telling’ in that book that one would think one of the greatest novelists ever couldn’t write a novel to save his life! But of course, he has to ‘tell’ about how the elves and what not came to be, from what heavenly spirits, and the rest. Then you have books loaded with dialogue–in fact, one friend-turned-book-critic once told me that my two printed books had too much dialogue! “Too much telling,” she told me. After all, dialogue is kind of like telling, right? In my opinion, however, nothing SHOWS a character like his or her dialogue, and how he or she says it!

Where I really go off the reservation though is setting, for actual setting and in terms of where the characters are from and how they speak. I intend to fully explain the whys and what-fors of this issue in posts I have already written and just need the right time to post (since I am busy re-typing/re-writing my two printed books for e-book formatting purpose for sale on Kindle, Nook, Lulu, etc). But for now I will sum it up–since my characters are in a rock band of the 80s and 90s, and since I grew up in the 60s and 70s when British rock reigned supreme for the most part (beginning with the Beatles), and since I spent about two months there in mostly the southeast (Brighton area) and also met three twenty-somethings from Tyneside (Newcastle, of course) and I just loved hearing that Geordie accent… Okay, you get the idea. But just to make it a bit easier for me to deal with creating these books, roughly half of the settings in all my novels are in the US, either New York City or California between LA and San Fran. I grew up on Long Island and lived in NYC. I have visited southern and central California and know several folks from there  (and my brother and his family used to live near Silicon Valley). A number of supporting characters are Americans. Finally, for the most part, my Brit rocker characters spend most of their time in the most affluent part of England, which just happens to be the part of England I am most familiar with–the southeast, including the affluent county called Surrey. Thus, one really cannot accuse me of not knowing the settings and the ways of speaking (though I do use slang words every now and then that are more American than Brit, and one big mistake I made originally in the printed books was listing the dates American style instead of Brit style: instead of writing ‘the 15th of July’ I wrote “July 15.’ Or used the term ‘called’ instead of ‘rang’ on occasion…any slang terms I screwed up in my first two books will be rectified, I hope, in the e-books.

Finally, as I will explain in my posts that will be posted as soon as possible, my entire life generally does not ‘follow the script,’ and I’ve been for the most part a non-conformist my entire life.

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Keys to Formatting E-books for EPub and Various E-book Platforms Besides Kindle

I do hope that the author of books who also has the desire or urge to format their printed books into E-Books isn’t just considering formatting for Amazon Kindle. For one thing, Amazon’s payout looks to be a pittance compared to some of the other platforms, especially Lulu. Now I do intend to format for Kindle because everyone and his or her mother has a Kindle device, right? And I know it is a very good idea to format for Kindle–for one thing, a friend of mine who downloaded my Prodigal Band FREE PDF complained that it was hard for her to read the PDF on her Kindle! That is likely because the Kindle Create format is different from a PDF format, which is simply an export from Word or WordPerfect. So, to satisfy folks who only have a Kindle reader which uses MOBI formatting, I will just have to accept a lower payout. Oh well, such is Amazon and it’s money-craving owner, Jeff Bezos, who will never have enough money (and, BTW, he is NOT “the richest man in the world”–which he knows and that is likely why he craves more and more money…it’ll take him years to catch up to the richest man in the world, which is the head of the Rothschild Banking dynasty, not Bezos! Bezos is “only”” worth a trillion or so. Rothschild, who OWNES the Federal Reserve Band and other central banks, is likely half-way to quadrillionaire status….a quadrillion is a one followed by 15 zeros! or the number 10 to the 15th power!). When you have this kind of money, money becomes meaningless in a way.

In any case I have finished formatting Battle of the Band for Lulu’s EPub format which also allows e-book buyers to purchase the e-book from other “partners” such as Barnes and Noble’s Nook platform, Apples iBook, the various Smashwords outfits such as Toshiba Book Place, Kobo and others–and even Amazon! (Just not for Kindle Readers..one would have to download  another e-Reader such as Calibre E-book Reader.)

There are two very important formatting issues one must address when using the EPub formatting tool, the Guide which can be downloaded here. One is using the “Styles” tool when using Microsoft Word (best to use the newest version, but I used Word2013): the Title, Copyright, and Intro-Preface-Foreword-About the Author pages and other intro pages MUST use Heading 1, while Chapters must begin using Heading 2, and subsections using Heading 3. And a lower Heading must NOT be above a higher heading–and all Headings must begin on the very top line of the page (the regular printed words use Normal, with paragraph spacing). And speaking of paragraphs…

If your paragraphs are NOT formatted correctly, your book will be rejected…

This is because EPub format does NOT allow numbered pages and the way it is formatted is how the Table of Contents is created. If your Headings and paragraphs are not formatted correctly, the Table of Contents is garbled, and your book  will be rejected.

It is extremely important to follow exactly the Lulu EPub Guideline PDF book. Make sure you use either “In Line formatting” or “Block”…In Line for novels and Block for non-fiction, or whatever. Finally, format your paragraphs the same way for not just “normal” Style, but Headings 1, 2, and 3 as well, according to the Guide. Hint: Use indent only for Normal, and keep Headings 1, 2, and 3 at 0.0 indent.

Hints: One, click on the paragraph symbol at the very top of the document on the Home ribbon next to the W (Word Doc) and the refresh circle, and a “paragraph” window comes up. Follow the instructions for each Heading or Normal Style guideline. Two, once one’s indents and “First Line” under the “special” function are established, right click on all Headings 1, 2, and 3 as well as the Normal Style boxes and you will see in all cases the “Modify” function. In each case left-click on Modify and choose font (Times New Roman, Garamond or Ariel are the only fonts allowed; I use Times New Roman) and font size, with Heading 1 being the largest and Headings 2 and 3 being smaller, and Normal being the smallest (I use 36 for Heading 1, 24 for Heading 2, 14 for Heading 3, as well as italics, and 12 for Normal). After fonts are dealt with, then click on the Format button below at the left and do what you did for the original “paragraph” function (or just use this tool and forget the “paragraph” tool, it’ll work either way). But you must do this for EACH of your Styles Headings and Normal.

Finally, there are instructions for auto-typing and auto-formatting that the guide says must be done as well. Go to the main menu under the FILE TAB. Click on the Options tab, and then click on the Proofing, then click on Auto Correct Options, then follow the instructions in the Guide regarding “Auto-Format” and “Auto Format As You Type.”

To make sure you are formatting correctly, click on the little “paragraph” symbol in the “paragraph” box right next to where the “Normal” square is in Styles. You will then see the various “Paragraph” symbols up and down your page. Larger symbols must come before the smaller ones in order.

One last thing–do NOT put your cover art (or what Lulu calls “marketing image”) on the very first page of your book! The very first page MUST be the Title page! You will submit your cover art separately, and guidelines for cover art (number of pixels and size and colors) are a whole other set of instructions! If you don’t want to spend days and weeks creating your own cover, go to pexels.com and download your COPYRIGHT= and ROYALTY-FREE image which you can then modify with your book title, edition, and author name. And one last thing–your Title page MUST only include what’s on the cover, or your cover must only include what’s on the Title page….that is called “metadata”…

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Project Alert–Will Post More About My Books Soon (In Case You’re Wondering)

Right now I am working on turning my printed books, Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band into e-books. That is, they need to be formatted for e-book purposes and sold through e-book outlets (several, in fact, not just Kindle or Nook.) That is, I have to re-type them! My printed books in 1995-6 and 1997-8 were formatted for ancient floppy discs on an ancient Macintosh LC475 computer using Mac OS 7.5! Both Mac computers (mother was an early PowerMac with Mac OS 8), both desktops, have had their hard drives removed and sold as scrap. Since I can no longer access these ancient computers (I now have a laptop with Windows 7, and no floppy drives anyway!), I am re-typing both books. Hopefully, Battle will be finished by the end of the year –and keep in mind, I have to format it according to specifications of the book seller, including a table of contents and a new cover.

Why? Because multiple people want me to do this, and because since I live way out of town it is not easy to go into town every time I have to send out one of my printed books. Our Post Office keeps weird hours, the price of gas is high in these rural areas, and my vehicle right now is not in good shape!

Here, and on my book blog, I will as soon as possible post articles about not only the characters and the story itself, but the factual events and historical narratives that these books are based on and drove me to write them. As I am re-typing Battle of the Band, I am realizing just how satirical it is! Since I’m not really into genres, the genre of “satire” might work for this one: genres–satire, horror, spiritual, adult.

But not “adult-adult” if you know what I mean. And I am taking out all the “f”-words if you know what I mean. The “s”-word is staying. My characters are my characters, right? Folks, I’ve never met a man who didn’t cuss–ever Christians cuss a lot!

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The Reality of Why I Wrote My Books–I Had To.

Divine inspiration–something!–caused me to go outside within the beauty of star-surging sky around midnight in the early 90s and receive a “message” to finally get those rock band characters out of my head and onto paper, and then computer. God? Angels? Spirits? Because it was not the devil or demons–the devil or demons would not want me to create a trilogy about a rock band fighting evil (and, after a miraculous event in 1997, accept Christ as Savior!).

Now my characters could not be goody-two-shoes-types or boys who could never do wrong or only sin occasionally. They could not be boys like we have out here in far west Texas that claim to strictly follow the Bible and wear jeans or regular pants and button-down shirts, having sisters and mothers that wear nothing but long skirts and their hair up in a knot…Mennonite, but not Mennonite. Folks, does a Christian writer have to write fiction only with “God-fearing” (or not) characters?

Now, a Christian writer can write what he or she wants and however God guides them, but darn it, before I truly became a believer in Christ I was a sinner. Period. I cussed like my characters do. I had sex out of wedlock, which is defined as fornication, I think. I also dabbled in the occult for a short time (until the occult scared the living daylights out of me!). I also dabbled in atheism, but, again, God made sure this wasn’t going to become a permanent mind set! I could spend all day telling how and what and why God gave me messages and events that set me straight.

And I will say again why my main characters make up a rock band–because growing up in the 60s, rock music was one of my main connections to the world and my friends and classmates and generation. Listening to the Beatles and others, watching shows like Ed Sullivan and music-act shows I cannot even remember the names of, reading in pop culture mags about this or that rocker, buying LPs–you know, vinyl records–learning and playing guitar and being for a short time in an actual rock band that didn’t accomplish much, but still…and having friends who dated other rock band members that also didn’t accomplish much… If not for that, my teen years wouldn’t have amounted to a hill of beans! I would have been a depressed teen-aged girl with no hope of ever fitting in. Being a non-conformist is fine, but being a non-conformist exclusively is never a good idea for a teenager. It is the teen and early twenties years where one must explore the world around them, and then make decisions–hopefully the right ones.

And my books follow that proper narrative: six teen boys discover their music abilities and talent and, given a lack of prim and proper upbringing, more or less, take advantage of that talent and aim at rock and roll stardom, fame and fortune, not realizing that stardom, fame and fortune are double-edged swords and can lead to evil. And, mirroring the reality of evil in the music business that I have done extensive research on starting in the 70s, especially as relates to the hidden agendas of those who ultimately run the business and still do today, I can honestly say that my characters and the story lines and plots of the Prodigal Band Trilogy accord with this research and truth regarding the business of recording and performing the music that has influenced young folks from the late 1950s onward.

These three novel works are partially based on factual events of which I will state in future posts on this site as well as my OmegaBooks blog.

I will now bring up one truth that appears in the Free e-book The Prodigal Band, as relates to ‘prayer rituals’ performed as the ‘master disc’ is produced–the master disc, both in the pre-digital age and today’s digital master age, is ritually ‘prayed’ over by the makers of the disc (recording artists, producer, engineers, and record label personnel, for instance). The link to the video below features John Todd, who, in the 60 and 70s before he became a believer in Christ, participated in these rituals as a big shot with Zodiac Productions. Zodiac Records, a major label in the 60s and 70s, had several top rock band acts. The link is below.

John Todd exposes master disc prayer rituals.

There are more videos on this topic as well on YouTube.

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Breaking News: Cost of Shipping Will Be the Same for All 50 US States

After sending copies of Battle of the Band and the Prophesied Band to various US states including Hawaii (but not Alaska, yet), I have discovered that basic rates for shipping to the various contiguous 48 states and Hawaii (by boat, that is–by plane it would be more expensive, and I do not want to add $3 or $4 more to the shipping cost…the packages they would be shipped in cost a little over a dollar)–that various shipping rates are basically the same, roughly $4.50 whether to Texas, Oregon, New York, or Hawaii.

Note: I was shocked to find how cheap it was to send a book to Hawaii! But it did take a while before the recipient got the book. Volcanoes, maybe?

Therefore, as one will see on the Bookstore page, all shipping costs for one single book will be $4.50 as long as it is being shipped within the US, and costs for shipping for both books will be $5.00 (since two books are being shipped in the same package).

Overseas costs will not change until I determine what the shipping cost to Canada or Europe would be. Keep in mind, both books are in the English language only.

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If I Can Start Self-Publishing With Almost No Money in the Age Before Online Self-Publishing and Social Media, Almost ANY Writer Can Do It Today

I have been on the WordPress Writer/Author scene since mid-February, 2018, and have read dozens of posts by newbies and established writers-authors and bloggers who have advice on writing and self-publishing. Read the advice, but, folks, you have to figure this one out yourselves, even if you lose money in the process. I am what one would call a “tactile learner,” that is, I learn by doing.

For instance, I learned by foolishly trying to transfer a domain from BlueHost, who claimed to be ICANN registered but aren’t (or else why would they send me an e-mail stating I needed to go through whois@BlueHost.com, when Whois is part of ICANN? WHOIS LOOK-UP is indeed part of ICANN), that transferring a domain is a fool’s errand unless you already have done such a thing in the past and succeeded. So, all I could do was withdraw my complaint against BlueHost. BlueHost can throw my domain I paid for in the trash, or hand it over to some whatever for free. When the domain comes up for renewal I will not be renewing it.

Back to the original storyline.

In 1995, I completed my first book for print—there was no online e-book platform back then that I could access since we didn’t have internet until 1998 anyway. The novel is called Battle of the Band, and, in those days if you didn’t have one of the Big Publishers as well as a literary agent, you either spent thousands with a vanity publisher (a very bad idea…paying them thousands, while you STILL had to market the books yourself! And you also had to sell the books yourself!), or you spent your own money on setting up your own indy self-publishing company, getting your ISBNs, sending your book to the Library of Congress for registration (usually two copies), and paying to get the book printed. No problem—unless you unwisely got more copies printed than you knew you could sell on your own. In fact, I believe that was truly the only mistake I made: I got 1,000 copies (and over-copies besides) printed when I probably should have gotten only a few hundred.

By 1998, when I had completed the second novel in the trilogy, The Prophesied Band, I only ordered a hundred (plus over-copies), and because of that, actually made a small profit. Lesson learned. And, when we got the internet—dialup—I got with a company called BookZone, was interviewed by some BookZone woman, and sold some copies through them. But mostly, I sold copies on my own.

But here is the beauty of it: ALL copies of these two books were sold with NO ADVERTISING COSTS (at a very to cost to BookZone…they got minimal take from their sales, but that’s it)! The only advertising I did besides BookZone was showing up at buy-sell-trade events like the local Fourth-of-July festival or the Writer’s Conferences held by a local writer’s group called the Texas Mountain Trail Writers, or doing press releases in the local papers.

So I didn’t make much money with OmegaBooks back then. But I did get the experience of self-publishing through my own indy publishing company. And I did it when I was mothering and home schooling two young children. And other motherly and wife-ly chores. And not earning any money in the process other than some book sales.

Fast forward to today. After working five years as an office manager for the local Property Owners Association, I retired what with the kids in or out of college on their own. In 2016, I got serious and began on the completion of what has been posted, the FREE PDF novel, The Prodigal Band (which tells the whole story from beginning to end), here. Because I had been working and saving money for this effort, I now have the funds at my disposal (and am on Social Security and Medicare—most of the savings I have made will go toward medical expenses, which are outrageous in the USA…and dammit if I need to I’ll get it done in Mexico! I don’t live far from the border). But OmegaBooks will get what is needed.

As I’ve said in other posts I had been rejected by big publishers and literary agents, so I had no other recourse but to do it myself. But now? Writers and authors, you do not even need a big publisher and you certainly don’t need a literary agent unless you’re a “celebrity” or something who likely doesn’t even write the thing! And don’t literary agents take a big swipe out of your take? Let alone big publishers? Go back to read here my post on how Stephen King got screwed before he became a celebrated author.

If you have the time to write, you have the time to set up your own company, your own website, your own Amazon or whatever account, your own PDFs (using Word or WordPerfect—both can now be immediately exported to PDF), get your own ISBNs and Library of Congress registrations for $55 (which guarantees your copyright against Adobe Acrobat-owning pirates who download your book, then steal from it trying to ‘copyright’ what they have stolen!) and DMCA-documentation as well for a measly six bucks! Also, copyright anything you put online or any portions of your online books on your sites. Put your book on a Cloud format (such as Adobe Acrobat DC Cloud or Google Cloud or whatever)? Make sure you copyright it for real and submit to the Library of Congress.

If a 65-year-old non-tech-savvy person can do it, so can you.

If you are Christian? As the song What a Friend We Have in Jesus says, ‘Never be discouraged, take it to the Lord in prayer.’

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Good News! This Site Is Succeeding!

Sorry about the lack of posts here and on my Omega Books blog. But it has been a very busy last couple of weeks. For one thing I have been ‘re-hired’ by the local POA board to help mentor the new POA office manager, about ten hours a week at 15 an hour.

Plus I am  mentoring a Christian writer who is working on his first fiction novel, and has a WordPress blog as well.

Finally, a couple who run a news website   that may be one of the few ‘non-click-bait’ alt-news sites out there, and consider me a friend of sorts, have posted FREE ADVERTISING for my two printed books and my FREE PDF e-book! Because of these free ads, I am now getting at least one or two and sometimes more DOWNLOADS of my free e-book as well as now book sales, daily! I recently sent a copy of Battle of the Band to Hawaii! The book buyer lives on the ‘Big Island’ where that volcano is, so prayers for her are in order. Keep safe my friend, and God be with you!

Hopefully soon I will be putting up a PayPal button link so one can buy my books using e-checks, which is a lot easier payment method than sending cash or check. Further, it will allow me to post more exact shipping charges. The book I sent to Hawaii was shipped a lot cheaper than I thought it would be shipped, so I’ll owe the buyer a refund of sorts. I would rather have gotten it right the first time!

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The Prodigal Band Trilogy: The Spiritual

Moving on to the spiritual aspect of why I wrote these books…

In the fall of 1993, at night with the myriad of star-shine visions outside the house at night in the mountains, a view of the heavens, thinking some divine entity was hovering above, a thought came into my head, in my own voice, telling me that now was the time to begin to compile all the character and theme and setting and story and all the stuff I had carried in my head since the mid-60s. The time to write the novel was nigh….

Since I was raising a toddler daughter at the time, I had limited time to do this work, but I managed to get the rough draft manuscript done by the summer of 1994 only to have to go back to work teaching secondary math–in El Paso, in what was then a ‘gang land high school’ and put up with not only gangster students but a principal that couldn’t handle gangster students (the ONLY time I noticed serious discipline in the hallways was the one week this so-called principal was at a conference in Washington, DC! During that week, the assistant principals and security guards were actually able to do their jobs, and not one student of mine tried sneaking out of class or wanted to roam the halls…the only time this happened!) After the kids went to bed at night, when I wasn’t grading tests or whatever, I edited the rough-rough-rough draft. I quit the teaching job in June, 1995.

That summer I began the actual rough draft on someone else’s Macintosh computer, from 6 am until 8 am, when I had to go back home to home school my kids. In fall of 1995 I bought my own Mac computer with System 7.5. When I had time, I finalized the first novel, Battle of the Band, which was completed in 1996–after a writer/retired teacher friend of mine Beta Edited the novel twice.

And what she told me through her proof-reading/editing caused me to think maybe divine intervention WAS at work in this first book:

Read the rest here.

Download the FREE The Prodigal Band PDF e-book here.

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Get the Word Out About Your Books? Start with Your Neighbors

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As I have said in previous posts about how I began selling my first self-published novel, Battle of the Band, in 1996 WITH NO MONEY SPENT ON ADVERTISING, I was able to sell between 200 and 300 books within the first two years of its publishing and printing SOLELY by selling at the following:

  1. Local writer conferences (I belong to Texas Mountain Trail Writers)
  2. Neighborhood stores on consignment
  3. BookZone, an early indy book publishing platform that did charge a small fee.
  4. Just talking about the books to neighbors
  5. Local events such as the Fourth of July parade and vendor fair, again paying a small fee to set up a booth.
  6. “Press releases” in local papers.

And this, folks, happened in far west Texas, the Big Bend area, in which the largest town, Alpine, has a population of about 5,000 people! The closest town to me is Fort Davis, population about 800. The POA I live in had a population at that time of about 200, now it is closer to 400 full-time residents. And, while there were folks in other towns such as Alpine that bought my books, the book store in Alpine refused to sell them on consignment. The book store in Fort Davis sold a couple; the local store in my POA sold a few. BookZone sold a few, but not enough to cause me to keep paying their fee, so I closed that account in 1999.

As to sales of Battle of the Band, at least 90 percent of sales came through three sources: the writer conferences, the local vendor events, and getting with neighbors. As for the second book, The Prophesied Band, with about 60 copies sold (I only got 100 printed…I learned my lesson about getting too many copies printed), most of those sales were again due to the conferences, vendor events and getting with neighbors.

Small indy publishers and self-published authors MUST be smart about spending money on advertising, on-line and off-line, even if you are just creating e-books for sale on Amazon or your own store. At some point you are going to want to get your books printed—don’t forget, there are still people out there who either don’t have internet or spend little time on the internet or don’t buy stuff online.

My suggestion (because for me it works)? Either print your books (if the books are fiction, I’d say no more than 250 books on your first printing) or create e-books, then sell them at local events or writer conferences you attend and among your local writer’s group AND create cards and flyers with some kind advertising with links to your e-books you sell yourself (or give away) or through Amazon or other platform, and do whatever you have to do to get the word out to your neighbors. If I can do this in a very rural remote area of only 400 people and still sell some books myself just by telling them about the books, then anyone can.

Note: This past Saturday our local POA had a “spring fling” vendor event—buy/sell/trade/swap/garage sale—with donations to the local volunteer fire dept., sponsored by the local non-denominational church. About 100 people showed up, and I sold ten books! I’d say my method works!

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Read the Privacy Policy!

Especially if you want to buy my OmegaBooks novels and download the FREE The Prodigal Band PDF e-book AND you are a citizen of any European Union nation including the English-speaking UK and Ireland (since my products are exclusively in English!…and my main novel characters are English!)

Here is the link to the OmegaBooks Privacy Policy.

This Privacy Policy is new, just formed on May 21, 2018 to COMPLY with the new GDPR rules of the European Union regarding data policy as well as private information necessary for OmegaBooks to sell to European Union nation citizens my printed books, Battle of the Band and The Prophesied Band, as well as give away my FREE PDF e-book, The Prodigal Band.

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BOOKSTORE Is Set To Go!

I just added a Book Store link so one can purchase one of the printed Prodigal Band Trilogy novels, Battle of the Band or The Prophesied Band, or BOTH! When you purchase BOTH in the same order you save $5.00 on the cost of the books as well as saving on shipping costs!

To purchase either or both books at once, click here!

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The Prodigal Band Trilogy: The Why, Part 5

In Part 1, I stated why I became a writer-story-teller. In Part 2, I stated why the characters I made up were a gang and then a rock band. In Part 3, I stated why the rock band morphed into one from England, and in Part 4, why they were from northeast England, where the initial setting would occur. Now is Part 5, discussing the various changes I made over the next twenty or so years from 1970 until the final version of the first novel in the series, Battle of the Band, was published, that set the stage for the next two books, including the FREE PDF of The Prodigal Band.

Read the rest here.

Download the FREE PDF The Prodigal Band here.

 

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The Prodigal Band Trilogy: The Why, Part 4

Continued from Part 3 , the four of us—my friend and I and two college students—parked the van we rented in the overnight parking lot next to the ferry dock for the Isle of Wight to head for the Isle of Wight Rock Festival the following morning. Next to our van was another van, and next to us in front of that van were three men likely in their twenties that really only I spoke with, from Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Of the three, I could only really understand one of them; the other two had much thicker Geordie accents. No matter, the accent was fascinating (and, in fact, most English accents are somewhat fascinating).

Read the rest here.

Download the FREE The Prodigal Band PDF e-book here.