News from author Robert Brooks, The Clown Forest Murders

From: Robert Brooks <brooksrr@comporium.net>
Sent: Tuesday, January 1, 2019 10:19 AM
To: The Brookses
Subject: No Clowning Around

Dear Readers:

Our publisher has surprised us with a half-off sale for The Clown Forest Murders.  The ebook is available today for $1.99.  If you have this mystery on your reading list but, due to your procrastination inclinations or penurious circumstances, failed to get your hands on this classic, this is your chance for a better new year.  See Amazon now.

Both Princeton authors will be grateful if you take the journey to Princeton in the 90s and the shocking end on the shores of Lake Carnegie.  For those with a Norwich, NY connection this is THE NORWICH MYSTERY.  For those with coulrophobia (fear of clowns), be assured there are no clowns in the mystery.  This is the story of Dave Austin, who saw his brother murdered and is protected by amnesia, until it erodes in college and forces him to answer the dangerous questions of who and why.

Alert your reading friends.  they deserve a New Year's gift and Andrew and I deserve a fatter royalty check.  At least fatter than two bucks.

Bob

R.R. Brooks

Author, Fantasy, Mystery

Justi the Gifted

The Clown Forest Murders

www.brooks-authors.com

A CHRISTMAS ARTICLE BY MARY RICKETSON

From the Cherokee Scout Newspaper, we are reprinting a column by Mary Ricketson, NCWN-WEST Representative for Cherokee County.

Woman to Woman                                                 

When I was a little girl, Santa Claus came to us on Christmas Eve, according to tradition in my mother’s family. Always, Mother engaged a family friend to take us three kids for a drive, to see Christmas lights, bask in the excitement and wonder of the season. Always, when we arrived home, jingle bells rang, Daddy met us at the door with his jolly chuckle and said, You just missed him, Santa was here already. Wide eyed, we saw proof, presents under our tinseled tree.

Older, our tradition toggled to all three of us willingly hiding out in the girls’ bedroom, singing carols, imagining our belief, until Daddy rang the jingle bells and called out, You just missed him, Santa was here, come out to the tree.  Mother, dressed in red, green, and her knowing smile, broke into laughter every time.

My siblings and I are scattered by miles, our parents have passed on, and still the magic of our childhood Christmas Eves links our lives, keeps a spirit none of us would dare to trample.

For us, that one night a year, a fairyland lived in lights and song.  Anticipation built a ladder to the stars.  No problems existed.

Memory, tradition, and gatherings of friends, family, even strangers, fill the bowls of many on Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, Kwanzaa, and any holiday of the season. For others, vessels of want and need define the nights, the days.

This year let’s give gifts of kindness. Even a moment, a glance, can tune an ear to something good. Let’s give stars of understanding, even acceptance that holds the possibility of harmony without knowing details of what to understand. Let’s give food, coats, and heating fuel to ones who need a hand. Finally, let’s give love, the very gift everyone always needs.

Mary Ricketson makes her home inCherokee county.  She is a licensed professional counselor in private practice in Murphy.  She has a special interest in women’s issues.  Copyright 2018