I love to dance, though it is harder on a moving boat.
Second Chance
My recovery took six months. During that time, unable to work, do anything around the house-not such a big deal- only chew soft foods, at least I could have ice cream, and take care of my son-the worst thing-I had a lot of time to think about me. Who was I and who had I wanted to be. That’s when I wrote Dark Night Of The Soul. Luckily I got better. I went back to being a mother, a wife and the checking account manager at Chelsea Groton Savings Bank. I didn’t publish the book until I once again had free time. That’s called retirement. Now the book is available everywhere as a hardcover, paperback, ebook and audio book. Tonight at midnight the third episode will be played as a podcast and as of tomorrow morning it, and the episodes you might have missed, can be listened to at your convenience.
Some monsters walk in the night, others live inside you.
PODCAST
It’s time to look for my podcast. Here’s the logo,
and here’s the schedule.
There Are Reasons To Fear What Hides In The Night
Dark Night Of The Soul
Pat wasn’t afraid of the dark, she wasn’t even aware of it. Fear held her in its thrall, fear of the unknown, of the uncertain future. Her husband of thirty-four years had left her. She wasn’t sexy, romantic, or pretty enough. She was a large women, always had been. She wasn’t more than five pounds from the weight she had carried the day he’d sworn to love and cherish her always. The twins had come late in their marriage. When Richard left, she sold the house to pay their college tuition. If not for the shelter, she would be homeless. She desperately wanted to avoid returning to her parent’s home. They lived two states away. She didn’t want to move so far from her children. She feared telling her friends. She feared life without Richard. She was afraid of how important the local pub had become. She found she could no longer sleep without it. She was afraid the shelter would find out she’d been drinking. The smell of her fear, carried on the night wind, went before her.
Knowing the shelter would frown upon her new and all-too-frequent habit of visiting the local bar, she went to the backyard, purloined key in hand. Grabbed from behind, she threw her considerable weight on the body pressed against her, but his grip only tightened. She clawed at the hands biting into her chest. Slowly, he forced her to face him.
Her hands clasped in supplication. “Please, I beg of you, I have children. I’ll do
“Yes,” he whispered softly in her ear. “You will.”
“Please…”
Whatever she had planned to say was left unspoken. Snarling, he tore through her tender flesh. He was careful; he didn’t want this one to die too soon. Pat began to cry. Gregor brought his hand to her face, seemingly to wipe away her tears. Instead, he used his hideously long fingernails to slice through her soft cheeks. He tore into the flesh of her thick arms. The pain was so great, she could no longer cry. Her eyes rolled back, head falling.
“Not yet.” He tenderly slapped her cheeks, keeping her awake. “You fear me?”
The answer was a whimper. He smiled. “You should fear me more. Your children, I’ll find them.”
Dark Night of the Soul – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074T2Y22K
Amazon Author Page
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Debra-Zannelli/author/B07SW1BF1T?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2&qid=1725737741&sr=8-2&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true
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You can hear Gregor’s voice when you listen to the audio book or the upcoming podcast. Read the book and see if you can answer the questions I’ll ask you.
PODCAST
The Podcast is coming. Dark Night of The Soul. Do you know what’s waiting in the dark. Marcus does. Listen to the podcast of Dark Night Of The Soul, so you can find out.
#read #fiction #selfpublishing #literature #authorscommunity #blackauthors #art #amazon #poetrycommunity #kindle #quotes #poets #indieauthors #authorcommunity #writingtips #poems #booknerd #bookaddict #writersnetwork #authorsofinsta #bookstagrammer #inspiration #instagood #storytelling #poet #bookish #bookshelf #bookreview #writings #publisher
THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK
It’s a new idea of mine. I thought I would title the upcoming posts as thought for the day but the truth is I doubt I’ll post everyday and I don’t want to disappoint you. I’d also like to get to know you, so please feel free to give me your thoughts.
Do you ever feel that whenever you get close to making a touchdown, the end zone gets moved further away? Sometimes I do. It was better for me. I was raised in an era that had lots of jobs for those just starting out and you could save for college even working in the mills. Most of the mills are gone, those jobs with them and college is out of reach without debt. A mortgage without the benefit of a home, rent so high you may never save enough for a downpayment.
We hear people talk about the American dream, how we all have the chance to reach the finish line, have our dreams come true, get that house. But do we all have the same chances? Did we ever?
THE HUMAN RACE
Greyhounds lined up at the starting gate,
chasing wooden American dreams.
Only one can win, the rest must fail,
is not as it seems.
We know the losers didn’t really try,
blinded by the rabbit, we do not see.
The winner loses the next race,
how shallow his victory.
The rabbit is always a step ahead,
the weight of the world on the hound’s backs.
They suffer, they live, continuing on,
it’s caring the rabbit master lacks.
So intent upon the rabbit run,
we allow the race to continue on.
We do not try to see the truth,
look beyond the glitter, to see the harm.
And so the masses struggle, running the race,
not knowing that they are lead.
Will understanding come at last,
when all the hounds are dead?
Debra Zannelli
Comic-Con
Had a great weekend. The book sales were good, but better yet was making new friends, seeing old friends and meeting many of the people attending the con.
What better example can you get of both Darkness and Light.
I think you can tell that I was having fun. And don’t forget to come to the ARIA fundraiser. It will be an event that gives us good food, great company and lots of laughs. I hope to see you there. All you have to do is click on the QR code for tickets.
SOMETHING EXTRAODINARY
I hope you get a chance to get this book. There are so many excellent stories and poems. I’m so proud to be included.
Podcast
Coming soon. The podcast of Dark Night Of The Soul
Do you know who Marcus is, what he’s become? Have you ever been afraid in the dark? There are things in the dark that you can’t see. Marcus can. Walking in the darkness is the one that can steal your light. It will not only take your life. Slowly it will steal your memories, taking from you all you once knew and loved. It will take your soul. What would you do? Would you accept this changed nature, or fight for the person you want to be? If you want to know what Marcus is, what he’s done and what he is prepared to do, you’ll have to read Dark Night Of The Soul. It’s available on Amazon as an audio book, where the voices of Marcus and those who enter his life come alive.
Let me know when you’ve read or listened to the book. There are questions to answer. If you can answer them, A Darkness Descending, the prequel, will be yours. You know how to find me.
Dark Night of the Soul – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074T2Y22K
A Bark Of Love
If you’ve read any of the Sister World Novels you’ll notice the dogs. It’s obvious how much I love animals, especially dogs. There is a reason.
I don’t remember how old I was, neither do I remember why I was so sad. I hate crying in front of people. I hate it even more if it’s someone in my family. I’ve been known to climb out bathroom windows to find a good place to hide. Part of this may be that I can’t make a coherent sentence when I cry, no matter what I’m crying about. Maybe you feel like this too. I’d like to know I’m not the only one. Anyway back to dogs. Back then I lived in a small older home with a large farmers sink that sat pretty far out from the wall. The cupboards on either side had drawers that also didn’t go to the wall. For whatever reason, I was crying and there was no escaping the house. Small and skinny, I opened the door and managed to fit behind the pipes and the drawers. My cheerio box fit too. Munching on my treat, I suddenly heard a soft whining. I was worried Chipper, our dog, would give me away and I was enjoying the silent moments. I opened the door to shew him away. Chipper, so called because his beautiful white fur had round chocolate spots, had a better idea. I’ll never know how he did it, but somehow he managed to crawl inside. I could even close the door. He put his head on my shoulder, whined softly and enjoyed the cereal too. He understood me, he cried with me and made me feel less alone. I’ve thought of him in some of my saddest moments. You can’t buy love like that. He’ll always own a special place in my heart, just like I hope Spirit (Sister World) will find a place in yours.
Debra Zannelli Author 