Where to Find My Books

Please use this handy chart to find your next good book on legit sales sites! You can click on the links to the right. I'm working hard at getting my books into more markets, with more options, but it'll take time. You can also see my latest project at the very bottom of the list! More info to come soon!

Name of Book	e-book	Print Book	Fict.	YA/ 18+	Fantasy	Action-Advent.	Myst.-Thriller	Click On Link
The Aquaria Chronicles	Y	Y	Y	YA, All Ages	Y	Y		getbook.at/aquaprint
Just One More Purr - Terminal Illness Support for Cats & the Humans Who Love Them	Y	Y		ALL				getbook.at/purrprint getbook.at/ameowzon
A Collection of Cats Short Stories		Y	Y	ALL	Y			Getbook.at/catstories
Karen, Mayor of Zombtown	Y	Y	Y	18+	Y	Y	Y	getbook.at/karen
Zombie Survival Club	Y	Y	Y	ALL	Y	Y		Getbook.at/ZSC
Writing Powered Up		Y		ALL				Getbook.at/hero
WE ARE WATCHING YOU	Y	Y	Y	ALL		Y	Y	mybook.to/thrillingmystery

Our Adventure – Ingonish Beach, Cape Breton Highlands, Nova Scotia

A Fictional Short Story by Mel Dawn 

Last March we had to put ourselves into lockdown which can be stressful when you’re dealing with an irate spouse. Now it’s months later and we knew we had to give up our summer trip to the USA. But where to go? It had to be somewhere within driving distance from Ontario. Neither me nor my husband have ever been to Nova Scotia. But where? We wanted to avoid hoards of tourists. We finally settled on Ingonish, Cape Breton at the northern end of Nova Scotia. 

Often when you travel you must make sacrifices in comfort and in activities, particularly when you’re on a tight budget. Our car is small though, so we could only fit a few pieces of luggage and a cooler in the back. 

Ingonish is a harbour on the northeast part of Cape Breton Island. Before we even reached our hotel we got distracted by a ton of activities. We would definitely not be bored here.

But after driving several hours, both me and my husband were grumpy. That’s what happens when you get older. You just can’t tolerate things as well as you did when you were younger. You get tired more easily, and muscles start to ache. 

Nova Scotia is definitely unique. Coming from Ontario, we do have plenty of lakes, but aren’t close to the sea where you can smell the salt air. Nova Scotia also feels more like a community where people can slow down. People actually chat to strangers on the street, though wearing their masks of course.

Really, I wouldn’t have been able to think of a better vacation spot, unless we’d been able to get away to Portland, Maine this year, but we couldn’t. 

We were both exhausted, so decided to check into our accommodation first. I had expected some rundown motel where we’d have to bring our own towels and soap, but was pleasantly surprised.

And if you tire of hanging out in your room, there’s a spa where you can get the best services, and also a golf course where you can get fresh air and exercise at the same time.

Since we were here for a week, we didn’t try to rush around and do all the things in one day. After all, the point of a vacation is to relax and enjoy yourself. Surprisingly, my husband even agreed!

We spent the rest of the day wandering around. There were some wonderful views of the sea from here. 

Usually you stay at a motel and get stressed out, but the sheets and pillows were comfy, and our room was quiet so we got plenty of sleep.

By the end of the week we actually decided to stay a few more days. After all, it wasn’t like there was anything pressing back at home. It was great to actually spend some time with my husband, without all those stressors of life in the way. By the time we returned home we felt like newlyweds once again!

Flash Fiction: The Key to Time

The Key to Time

by Mel Dawn

Jane was going through the junk in the attic of the new house they had just bought. The former owners had never tossed anything out. Annoyed, she grabbed stuff and tossed it into a garbage bag. 

She grabbed another book off the shelf. Something dropped to the floor by her feet. It was a set of ancient brass keys. 

She briefly wondered what they could be for, but remembered there was an old desk here.

Now, she could see what was inside. The third key worked.

The drawer opened. Inside were several photographs, letters, and a small jewel box. When she touched a girl’s ring, the ghost of a little girl popped out of the box. 

Jane smiled at the image. 

“Hey, Jane, are you done up here yet?”

“Just a minute.”

“Do you have the garbage?”

“No, I want to have a better look.”

“I thought you said it was junk.”

“I think we can donate some to the Museum. These things belonged to a family and were very important to them. I’d feel bad just tossing it all out.”

“Works for me,” said her husband.

Flash Fiction: Theftproof

Theftproof

by Mel Dawn

Mark entered the cafe and tossed his backpack onto the floor.

“Hi, I’m Mark.”

“It’s ready.” She handed him a large brown bag and several drinks.

He carried his order to the table. “What the?” he exclaimed. “Someone has taken my bag!”

xxx

“That was an easy steal,” Tony thought.

Not bad. A tablet, a flip phone, and a box. He opened it.

Mist swirled out of it, along with the figure of a woman. “Return me or I shall haunt you forever,” she screamed at him.

It wasn’t just the image. Tony felt coldness and despair pierce his heart. He quickly closed the box and tossed it back.

“Now!” the voice yelled.

He raced back to the coffee shop.

zzz

Mark was in despair. They had searched all over. Then a man rushed in. 

“Sorry, I grabbed it by mistake!” He dropped the backpack onto the floor then quickly left.

“Mom!” said Tony, in relief. He pulled the box from the backpack. “Now we can resume your celebration of life.”

Stuck in the Same Old Routine? Attend Creative Ink Festival to Jump Start Your Writing Career!

Are you a wannabe writer, artist, illustrator, or graphic novel creator? You know how it's the same old thing day after day—you work hard, then come home, eat dinner, and watch TV.

But you know that what you'd really like to do is accomplish something big. Something special.

It might be an article, short story, book, or graphic novel, but often it's hard to know where to begin.

Well, it turns out you're not alone. The Creative Ink Festival is ahead, and it's where you'll get to meet many other people just like you who are in the beginning stages of a special project.

At the Festival you'll learn stuff.

• Where do I find ideas?
• How do I find time to write my book?
• How do I find illustrators if I can't draw?
• Where do I find an agent?
• What if I want to self-publish?
• Can I really get paid for writing?

Not only will you learn answers to these questions and more, but you'll also get to meet leading people in the publishing industry, bestselling authors, short story and book authors, publishers, and other experts.

Did I mention that it only costs $80 for three days of fun... and learning?!

You can find more information here: CreativeInkFestival.com.

See you there!

Navis Salubris – Chapter Two – Abdul

Navis Salubris – Chapter Two – Abdul

by Mel Dawn

“Are you kidding me?” Abdul said to his advisor. “The camp is over run with zombies, yet you want me to hunt down infidels?” 

The other man standing before him wore the same long black robes, with his face covered. The only distinguishing feature was an additional symbol on the shoulder of his robe.

“You must obey! Allah commands it!” declared his superior officer. He stamped his foot on the ground. He was pleased when he saw Abdul back away from him. A sign of fear in subordinate officers was good. 

Abdul continued to back away and raised his weapon.

The advisor grew worried. “Now just wait a minute! Don’t do anything you’ll regret!” The advisor tried to move forward, but something was holding his body back.

He let out a prolonged scream, as he realized something was biting his neck.

Abdul raised his weapon and managed to shoot not only the zombie who had his teeth attached to the senior’s officer’s neck, but also the senior officer too. The bullet flew through both of their head’s, and both bodies dropped to the ground, silent.

“Peace be with you,” said Abdul in Arabic.

He managed to get in another three shots before he had to reload. Zombies were overrunning the camp. He ran into the munitions tent to grab some extra cases, and stuffed them into the hidden pockets of his robe.

“Abdul, get over here now!” called a voice from behind the tent.

He sighed. There was no time for consultation while the camp was being invaded by zombies.

“There you are!” said another officer.

“We’re supposed to transport the prisoners to Tikrit.”

“There’s no time for that!” yelled Abdul. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the camp is filling with zombies!”

“All the more reason to get the prisoners out of here,” said the officer. “They’re making so much racket they’re attracting them.”

Abdul watched as three zombies advanced on the officer. He had to witness yet another of his superior officers being eaten alive. He finally shot them all in the head. 

Abdul dropped to the ground, feeling utterly defeated. He watched as the zombies surrounded the troops. There were three zombies for every man. He could barely raise his gun as several zombies came for him.

He dropped his gun, and it fell down into the dirt. He pitched forward onto the ground and started crying. He wished he’d never left London to join this terrorist cell. What a mistake that had been. He’d been expecting active combat, but instead got sent to a prisoner interment camp. What kind of war was it when the enemy didn’t even have the honour of fighting?

He heard a scuffling noise in front of him. He calmed his sobs and looked up. Surely he would have been bit by now? The zombies were milling around him, but looking confused. On the ground in front of him he saw a black envelope. 

Abdul picked up the envelope, and tore it open. His face switched to a bewildered expression as he saw that it was a ticket. 

Abdul started laughing. 

“A ticket to nowhere,” he muttered to himself in between guffaws.  

Next... Chapter Three – Wei.