Free Promo on Amazon: "Secrets and Lies" - A "Novella" by Phyllis P. Colucci aka "Fictiontarot"

 

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44

 

 

 

Free "Novella" on Amazon, tomorrow Sat 4/6/19 thru Wed 4/10/19.
"Secrets and Lies" - by Phyllis P. Colucci

 

 

 

 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Lies-Phyllis-P-…/…/B01EI644JY

Some info about this book - A woman I encountered on Twitter a while back, who was upset with me when she learned I was a Trump supporter through a post she did not agree with (she being a liberal), began harassing me personally. Besides name calling, she told me she researched my name that evening and saw that I was an indie author on Amazon. This particular evening, "Secrets and Lies" was on free promo, so she purposely went on Amazon that same night and gave the book one star and a nasty comment without reading the book. When I asked her why she would resort to such low behavior instead of debating maturely and respecting my views, as I did hers, she responded that as a writer of fiction, I live in a world of fiction being a conservative, then left some other "unbecoming" remarks. I decided to end the back and forth conversation with her, as she was obviously mentally challenged and no longer worth my time. Unfortunately, this is all too common with the Left. They try to silence Conservatives or attack them personally. Freedom of speech seems to apply only to them. Just look at Hollywood. - - -FREEDOM OF SPEECH BELONGS TO EVERYONE -

Sad Day for Democracy!

...On Poetry and Fiction - Just "One Word" Away (Seashells)

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44

 

 

 

 

 

            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Seashells”.

                                                           

                                                                    SEASHELLS

            The colorful and intricate empty seashells you encounter along the beach are now vacant homes to some, memories of a past life to most, shelter to others, souvenirs to we humans, and just simply nature’s beauties telling tales of a joyous life once lived in the mighty sea. If you lift a large seashell up to your ear and listen closely, you will hear its magical story through the sounds of a roaring ocean; through the echoes of its nautical dreams; through the gift of a wild imagination. It will speak only to you, as it reveals the secrets of the vibrant shore - the sparkling sands, the flaming sun, the wondrous tides, the haunting moon, the crashing waves, and the sweet aromas from the surf. You will respond with emotion as you yearn to hear more, reveling in this enchanting moment of a lifetime.

SEASHELLS

Walking along the sands

Feeling that familiar crunch under one’s feet

Stopping to finally understand it

Fascinating seashells

Exquisite shapes; magnificent colors

Yet, they are so much more than that…

Once the home to grand sea life

who created their shape and fine texture,

now sadly abandoned and vacant

Existing to provide shelter for sea strangers

who are so frightened and in search of a home

…They exist with great beauty

For the most curious to see

Children and adults collect them in bulk

School treats and home treasures

Displayed on huge walls

Sitting on shelves

Poised behind clear shining glass

They hold the secrets of time

They tell stories of a past life

A joyous time in “their” ocean

When someone wore them with pride

- Until it was over

and the seashells washed up on the beach -

Empty and alone…with purpose no doubt

They shared magical stories on end

About the raging force of an ocean

With echoes of nautical dreams

So lift the largest shell high, up to your ear

Listen with love and devotion

Revel in the sounds of its enchanting song

Embrace its spectacular theme -

The vibrant shore

The sparkling sands

The flaming sun

The wondrous tides

The haunting moon

The crashing waves

- Adorned with sweet aromas from the surf -

You will yearn to hear more,

as the sounds from a seashell

allow your imagination to soar;

While you travel quite lightly,

visiting the vibrant seashore

...FREE EBOOKS ON AMAZON/GOODREADS (MARCH, 2019) - By Phyllis P. Colucci

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44

 

 

 

 

 

Good Day - The below ebooks are being offered FREE on AMAZON and GOODREADS for five days only, during March, 2019: (GET YOURS !!!)


"Lives Unbalanced" by Phyllis P. Colucci (Psychological Suspense) (Free Fri 3/22 thru Tues 3/26/19)
(Just Click below and it's yours)
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07LC4ZLJ5

IF YOU LIKE PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE, MEET RAMONA THE RAGDOLL. It's about family, loneliness, obsession, the supernatural, danger and love! - All with that New York edge.

"The Hand She Dealt to Me" by Phyllis P. Colucci (Mystery/Suspense) (Free Sat 3/23 thru Wed 3/27/19)
(Just Click below and it's yours)
https://www.amazon.com/Hand-She-Dealt-Me-ebook/dp/B00E151LJO

IF YOU LIKE MYSTERY AND SUSPENSE, CHECK OUT THE EBOOK VIDEO BELOW. It's about love, family, romance, trust, betrayal, danger, deceit, a psychic, the tarot, and revenge! - All with that New York edge.  (Dialogue-Only Writing Style) - Takes you right in the middle of all the action.

Food for Thought (Immigration)

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

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         I came across this editorial on my email today, Friday 2/28/19. It's a very interesting, poignant, honest take on today's immigration vs immigration of "yesterday". I found it to be a great read and very enlightening for those who truly need and want to understand immigration, the United States and the privilege to be part of this wonderful country. Most of us come from a line of immigrants who came to this country legally - worked hard to make a life here, asked for nothing in return, fought in our wars, raised families and respected the American flag. Most of us can relate to this editorial - others will disregard it and remain ignorant by choice...Still, worth the read...Go for it!

****************************************************

"IF YOU ARE NOT FAMILIAR WITH WHAT THIS WRITER IS TELLING US YOU SHOULD BE."

"Our Grandparents, Great Grandparents, Great-Great Grandparents, etc. etc.

This was written by Rosemary LaBonte to the editors of a California newspaper in response to an article written by an Ernie Lujan, who suggests we should tear down the Statue of Liberty because the immigrants of today aren't being treated the same as those who passed through Ellis Island and other ports of entry. The paper never printed this response however, so her husband sent it out via internet.

Maybe we should turn to our history books and point out to people like Mr. Lujan, why today's American is not willing to accept this new "kind of immigrant" any longer.
Back in 1900 when there was a rush from all areas of Europe to come to the United States, people had to get off a ship and stand in a very long line in New York and be documented.

Some would even get down on their hands and knees and kiss the ground. They made a pledge to uphold the laws and support their new country in good and bad times. They made learning English a primary rule in their new American households and some even changed their names to blend in with their new home.

They had waved goodbye to their birth place to give their children a new life and did everything in their power to help their children assimilate into one culture. Nothing was handed to them. No free lunches, No welfare, No subsidized free housing, No DACA citizenship, No labor laws to protect them. All they they had were the skills they had brought with them to trade for a future of prosperity.

Most of their children came of age when World War II broke out. My father fought alongside men whose parents had come straight over from Germany, Italy, France, Ireland, and, yes, Japan. None of these First generation Americans ever gave any thought about what country their parents had come from. They were Americans fighting Hitler, Mussolini and the Emperor of Japan . They were defending the United States of America as one people.

When we liberated France , no one in those villages were looking for the French American, the German American or the Irish American. The people of France saw only Americans. And we carried one flag that represented one country. Not one of those immigrant sons would have thought about picking up another country's flag and waving it to represent who they were. It would have been a disgrace to their parents who had sacrificed so much to be here. These immigrants truly knew what it meant to be an American. They stirred the melting pot into one red, white and blue bowl.

And here we are now with a new kind of immigrant, be they here legally or not, who wants the same rights and privileges. Only they want it given to them but they want to live by a different set of rules, not learning the language that most Americans speak, but instead one that includes the entitlement card, while remaining faithful to their "mother" country. F___ America is a slogan of many of them!

I'm sorry, that's not what being an American is all about. I believe that the immigrants who landed on Ellis Island in the early 1900's deserve better than they received then for all the toil, hard work and sacrifice in raising future generations to create a land that has become a beacon for those legally searching for a better life. I think they would be appalled that they are being used as an example by those waving foreign country flags now.

And for that suggestion about taking down the Statue of Liberty, it happens to mean a lot to the citizens who are voting on the immigration bill. I wouldn't start talking about dismantling the United States just yet.

KEEP THIS LETTER MOVING.

FOR THE WRONG THINGS TO PREVAIL, THE RIGHTFUL MAJORITY ONLY NEEDS TO REMAIN COMPLACENT AND QUIET.

LET THIS NEVER HAPPEN!
I sincerely hope this letter gets read by millions of people all across the nation!

Of course the press won’t print anything that doesn’t support their socialist views. The immigrants of today aren’t being treated the same as those of yesteryear, they are treated far better. Sometimes better than our own citizens."

...On Poetry and Fiction - Just "One Word" Away (Rainbows)

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                               Poetry and Fiction – Just “One Word” Away (Rainbows)                                                                                               

            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Rainbows”.

                                                           

                                                            RAINBOWS

            A phantom artist invited me to look up at the sky; his special canvas. The rain had stopped and I watched in awe as he painted a rainbow. All was quiet as the art show began. A mirage of brushstrokes miraculously appeared. To my wonderment, an arc of seven colors was created by his hand. I never got his name, and I never saw his face. I only heard his voice come out of the heavens. However, I knew he was unique with a talent blessed by God and nature. When all was said and done, he whispered down to earth and warned me to beware of a mischievous leprechaun. He said, “You may not see him, but he is there, ready and willing to steal your Pot of Gold. Do not fret my friend - just follow the light, and you will have won a rainbow of love; far more priceless than any Pot of Gold.”

RAINBOWS

Sunlight and raindrops

Nature’s prism

The rain has passed

The art show begins

Seven colors of wonder

Red, Orange and Yellow

Bright Green and Blue

Deep Indigo and Violet

Yes, the sky is the canvas

The artist a phantom

A mirage of brushstrokes

An arc of confusion

All eyes full of wonder

At the optical illusion

The children just waiting

For their one Pot of Gold

As they follow the arc left to right

Innocently searching

 Patiently waiting

Praying with all of their might

But lurking about

Is the skillful leprechaun

Who guards the treasure with ease

He hides from view with his trickery

Enhanced by his giggle and proud of his tease

For he knows we may touch

not one Pot of Gold

- - Such intangible images from days of old

…Yet we’ll witness revered visions

As we follow the light

Sweet rainbows of love

Tangible through sight

"Duke" (A Poem about a family dog) (1967/1968)

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

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Below are photos of beloved family pets we've had over the years. Could not find one of "Duke", who this blogpost is really about. Read on for the entire story:

                                                   (Cammy) (Female / Mixed Breed) (circa 1968 - 1981)
                                                   (Family pet when I was a child, with my parents and sister -                                                                     some years after "Duke")

                                                      (Buff) (Male / Cocker Spaniel) (1998 - 2012)
                                                      (Family pet with my own family and Son)

                                                             

Today I was revising my collection of poems which I have written over the years, when my thoughts took me back to a time when I was a very young child who had a great opportunity to write her very first poem. I would like to share that very first, and very short, poem ever written by me during my youth. I was eleven years old, in fifth grade, attending Public School 132 (circa 1967/1968), in Brooklyn, New York. I believe this was a class assignment. We were asked to write a poem about a pet – or anything dear to us. I chose to write about our very first family pet, who was no longer with us at the time. He was our puppy “Duke”; a beautiful mixed breed (not sure what type of mix). We had to have him removed from the home years earlier, however, since he was a bit vicious. He bit everyone in the family whenever approached – my Dad, my Mom, my Sister and Me. Yes, I was sad because he was a cute fluffy ball of brown fur, with floppy ears that made him even cuter; but as an adult, I learned that a dog must never run the household, and a dog must never bite the hand that feeds him. Despite that, “Duke” will always have a special place in my heart. He was the first family dog/pet that we had the pleasure of loving and nurturing for less than a year before we had to give him up.

Anyway, back to the poem…After I wrote it and turned it in to class, I discovered that I had a passion, early on, for words, rhyming, poetry – and later, fiction. Throughout the rest of my life, I wrote all of it - and continue to do so in retirement. For many years it was just a passion I kept to myself. Unfortunately, some of those writings got misplaced over the years, never to be seen again. Today, however, I self-publish and share my writings with the world. Hopefully, readers will enjoy those writings as much as I enjoy writing them.

Well, here is that first short poem ever written by me, during my younger years; a time that would direct my life somehow - although I didn't realize it then. After all, I was just an eleven year old, fifth grade girl, submitting a poem as a class assignment - about her first family dog named “Duke”:
                                                            

"Duke"

I had a dog
who was very cute
He was big and brown
and what a brute
The only thing
he'd ever do
was eat and drink
the whole day through

And that's my story about my first family pet, my first short poem, and the discovery of a passion that would remain with me throughout my life.

...On Poetry and Fiction - Just "One Word" Away (Darkness)

http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/      

https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44

 

 

 

 

 

            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Darkness”.

                                                            DARKNESS

           

            Darkness comes but once a day. I watch through my window as it turns the day into night and fiercely chases the sun away. It brings the stars and moon along, and it captivates those who dare to look…And me – Well I wait patiently each and every night as it enters my bedroom faithfully. It must visit and it must come; for there is no stopping it. It enters slowly and it enters silently as it spreads itself like a dense fog. It blankets me with icy hands as I pull my warm woolen covers across my bed and up to my neck. Darkness brings the beauty of the night, and the loneliness as well. It whispers of the loss of day and sedates you with its aura. Soon you fall into a deep sleep and dream of the coming morn. From dusk to dawn, from darkness to the first glow -  you cannot have one without the other. Remember, darkness must visit and darkness must come; for there is no stopping it. Without darkness there would be no night, without light there would be no day, without both there would be no life.      

DARKNESS

My window tells an honest tale

of sun, of stars, and moon

Where golden rays and sun-kissed days

are hidden much too soon

The darkness comes like a thief at night

My window tells no lie

It robs the world of broad daylight

And the bright blue magic sky

The darkness comes but once a day

While I wait so patiently

It captivates all those who dare

to watch it so complacently

Yes, it must visit - and it must come

There is no stopping it

It takes a slow and silent course

And settles down a bit

It spreads itself like a dense fog

With icy hands as cold as hell

It blankets me so eerily

As I pretend, in bed, that all is well

When I think it isn’t looking

I pull the covers up to my neck

I try to act so brave and bold

And keep my mind in check

It brings the beauty of the night

With loneliness in tow

From dusk to dawn it lingers some

As I await the morn’s first glow

It whispers of the loss of day

With an aura all its own

It fights to take my dreams away

  By sunrise - its cover is blown!

…Despite its teasing, nightly visits

There are lessons here to learn -

Without darkness, there would be no night

Without light there would be no day

Without both there would be no life to live

Hence darkness must have its way

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

"Darkness" is a natural part of the cycle of our world. It will come and it will visit. There is no stopping it. We must embrace it. For along with the loneliness it may bring at times - it will always bring along the beauty of the night.

...On Poetry and Fiction – Just “One Word” Away (Gardens)

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            One word becomes one idea, becomes one sentence, becomes one poem, becomes one story. It must start from just “one word”. Today my one word is “Gardens”.

                                                            GARDENS

           

            I heard the flowers in the gardens whisper and giggle as I skipped past them in animated fashion. I saw the roses on the rosebush perk up and stare at me as I skipped farther along the path. I felt the grass sweep past my ankles as the summer breeze gently pushed it to and fro. The birds stopped by, as well, to cool off in the stone bird bath that stood erect in the center of the gardens; beneath the early morning sun. As I reached the end of the long winding path, there I found an herb and vegetable garden that filled the air with its aromatic scents. Such beauty, such innocence, such tranquility, in the gardens that grow nature’s best.

            If you listen and watch very closely, you’ll hear the gardens speak of love and life; of birth and death; of rebirth and reincarnation; and lastly, they will tell the story of a resurrection. The gardens are magical, spiritual and quite supernatural. They call out to us, and invite us into their exterior and adventurous home - just to look, listen and observe. They encourage us to appreciate their power of life, death and rebirth, as only the ever-changing seasons will allow.

           

           

GARDENS

On nature’s walk

The path is long

On nature’s walk

The path is winding

If you listen closely

You will hear the gardens speak

There will be whispers and giggles

From exotic colored flowers

Who watch as we skip past their home

There will be looks and stares

From majestic rosebushes

Whose secrets will come into view

There will be tickles and touches

From swaying blades of grass

As gentle breezes push them to dance

You’ll see birds on the bird bath

Herbs and vegetables galore

You’ll inhale the aromatic scents of the Gods

The gardens are alive

With beauty and innocence

So tranquil, so lovely, so bright

And they speak to us of love

Of life, birth and death

Reincarnation - and proof of a resurrection

The gardens are magical

The gardens are spiritual

Abundant in supernatural powers

They call out to us, and invite us in

To nurture, to look and to listen

They beg us to stay and observe them by day

As we continue down this wondrous path

…There will be many miracles to witness and see

…As only the ever-changing seasons will allow