Back To School Book & Blog Block Party


Welcome to my blog for my stop on the Rave Reviews Book Club’s Back-To-School Book & Blog Block Party. I’m so glad you decided to join me today in beautiful Tacoma, WA. I have some great stuff to give away, and if you leave a comment at the end of this post you’ll be entered into a drawing and might win something. Everyone is eligible, you don’t need to be a member of Rave Reviews to win.

What I’m giving away:

One $5.00 Amazon gift card

Three Kindle copies of Shadow of the Drill

One signed paperback copy of Shadow of the Drill \

One set of coffee cups with pictures of the covers of Shadow and Winter, and a signed 1st edition cover of Shadow. (Not as impressive as it sounds, although there was a limited number of 1st editions printed so the covers are kind of rare.)

There is a total of 6 winners at this stop. I apologize, but postal rates prevent me from sending anything that has to be mailed outside of the USA.
I’m so happy to announce that the winners of my giveaway are: Shirley Harris-Slaughter, Gorden Bickerstaff, Cassidy Salem, C. S. Boyack, Bette Stevens, & J. B. Hawker. It was a fantastic day here at my blog, and I can’t wait to do it again next year!

Today, I’m going to share one of my favorite parts of Shadow, and then give you a peek at two upcoming novels. I hope you enjoy.

* * *


REVIEWSEALShadow of the Drill is the first in a series of books about Decker, an unrepentant enforcer known as the Drill, and the violent life that he leads. It follows Decker as he finally encounters the men whose brutal assault of a woman changed his life. The following passage happens after an encounter with those men, when Decker is faced with the possibility that he might not be able to save his injured partner


   “Char, you gotta hold him!” Decker spoke louder than usual, his words coming with the crispness of a cracking whip. “Don’t let him move! I need to finish, and I can’t if he’s not layin’ still!” 

   Charlene tossed her head in exasperation. “I’m doing the best I can, but he’s a lot stronger than me!”

   Decker softened, giving her an understanding smile while selecting a different scalpel from the tray. “I know, babe. But you gotta try harder.” He waited for her to agree, but her expression clearly stated that she had more to say.  

   “Deck, can we give him a break?” She laid her hands on Rudy’s heaving chest, caressing his skin in an effort to soothe him. “I know there’s only the one piece left, but I think he needs a minute before you start cutting again. Maybe I can find something more to give him, so he won’t feel it as much.”

   Decker hesitated, torn between his desire to do as she asked and the knowledge that there was no more time to spare. The job would have already been done had the bullet remained intact, but they had not been that fortunate. Removing the fragments and repairing the damage had been a precise and exhausting task, and Decker would have welcomed a chance to rest his hands and regroup in general. But then a strangled groan from Rudy settled the issue for him. “We can’t stop now. I wish we could but we just don’t have time.”

   Charlene sighed, knowing that he was right. She moved to the head of the table, reaching down to stroke Rudy’s shoulders.                 

   “I know where it is,” Decker said with a passing frown. “I just can’t get to it when he’s movin’ around so much. And I sure as hell can’t fix anything. If we could just keep him still, I could grab it and fix whatever it broke. But he’s gotta be still!”

   His gloved fingers probed the Betadine-stained area above the wound as he prepared to make another incision, but he stopped when Rudy moaned in response. “Char,” he said without looking up, “he’s too close to the top. We need to put him back down. I know the pills are gone, but is there any more booze?”

   The woman clenched her hands together, unable to hide her stricken expression. “No. I gave him the last of it just before you started. There might be more somewhere, but I don’t know how much.” Her voice broke in a frustrated sob. “Or where it would be.”

   Decker frowned again, thinking of and weighing the options. “Well,” he said, swallowing hard against the dread that threatened the strength and accuracy of his hands, “I guess we’ll just go ahead and finish it. Hopefully, he’ll pass out before we get too far.”

   Another sentence followed, too softly for Charlene to hear. “What did you say?”

   “I said if there’s a God in Heaven, he will.”    

   The bloodstained gloves hit the floor, and Decker’s hands cupped Rudy’s face, one finger tracing the clenched jaw with a lover’s smooth touch. His lips tightened at the thought of what his friend would still have to suffer at his hands, but then he straightened, all emotion locked safely away until the job was done. “Ready?” The sound of fresh gloves snapping around his wrists accented the word.

   Charlene caught her breath, but managed to keep her voice from shaking too badly. “As ready as I’m gonna be.” She pressed her palms against Rudy’s shoulders, leaning her weight forward while bracing her feet against the base of the wall behind her.

   “Are you sure?” Decker’s voice was steady, almost as if his fright had never been. She bobbed her head in reply, and he poised his hands over Rudy’s abdomen. “Okay then,” he said, forcing his eyes away from Rudy’s face. “Here we go.”

   The scalpel slid into the skin, forcing a throaty groan from Rudy’s lips. Blood flowed, causing Charlene’s heart to skip a beat. There’s so much!

   Rudy’s legs thrashed while Charlene fought to hold his upper body against the table and she dug the heels of her palms into the front of his shoulders. “I can’t hold him,” she cried, struggling against Rudy’s greater strength. “Deck, I’m losing him!”

   “I’m almost there,” he replied as the scalpel went deeper. “Just a little more, and I’ll have it!” 

   He tossed the blood-covered instrument onto the tray before picking up the forceps. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than to Charlene. “Okay, steady now.    Easy . . . Easy . . .”

   Rudy cried out when Decker reached in for the elusive piece of metal. His head rolled from side to side while his hands flailed, even though Decker tried to hold the closest one against the edge of the table with his body. His expressive brown eyes were wide and pain-crazed, but beneath the pain was something else. Something that, to their dismay, both Charlene and Decker recognized.


   Rudy should have been beyond all feeling, but instead he remained awake. Awake and aware.

* * *


Duncan Malone sets his sights on the adult entertainment club owned by Decker and his partner, Rudy Valdez. What begins as a simple club war quickly escalates to murder when Malone sends his men after the people in Rudy’s circle. The following passage tells of one such encounter.

    Lena giggled uncontrollably when Rudy finished the story he was telling with a flourish. The two girls in the back seat leaned forward to hear, sharing the humor and enjoying the moment.

   “Oh Rudy,” Lena gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. “Decker would kill you if he knew you’d told us that. He’d absolutely kill you!”

   “Are you planning to tell him?” Rudy asked with mock concern. “I sure hope not.”           

   “No way,” she replied, resting her hand on his shoulder. “This is prime blackmail stuff.”

   “Oh, so that’s it,” he said, keeping his tone serious with effort. “Well, I can see how it’s gonna be from now on. I guess there’s no other choice. I’ll have to make the ultimate sacrifice to keep you three quiet.” His deep brown eyes twinkled merrily in the rearview mirror. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your sex slave.”        

   His words were met with shocked silence, and then all three women were laughing in unison, blushing at the thought of being serviced by such a strikingly handsome man.

   The comment had been made in fun, but Rudy allowed himself a brief fantasy as he watched them in the mirror. It would never happen, of course, but that was what made the teasing so much fun. 

   All in all, it was an enjoyable drive. The moon was full, the rain had stopped, and as Rudy began to round the curve ahead of him there was nothing on his mind other than pleasure at his companions’ conversation.

   He saw the headlights approaching, but thought nothing of it until a pair of lights flared brightly in his rearview mirror as well. Then a sixth sense came into play and he locked his seat belt, pulling the strap snugly across his chest. He contemplated calling Decker, but decided against it. Whatever was going to happen would occur long before help could arrive; there was no point in dragging anyone out of bed just yet. 

   The headlights flashed into high beam and he tightened his hands on the wheel, bracing his shoulders against the back of the seat. “Ladies,” he said mildly, “put your belts on, please. We might have a bit of a problem.”   

   “What’s up?” Nikki asked while she obediently buckled herself in, but before Rudy could answer the other car was upon them and there was no time to talk.

   He studied the driver’s face while the sedan roared toward him in the other lane, watching the man’s shoulders shift when the vehicle’s nose swung toward him. Swearing loudly, he pulled the wheel sharply to the left in an attempt to beat the other car to the bash.

   The steering wheel bucked in his hands when the vehicles slammed together. The impact threw his body forward, wrenching his neck and back when the seatbelt locked and almost making him wish that his air bag had not been disabled.  He could hear the girls screaming as they clung to each other in the back seat, and he shouted at them to keep their heads down.

   There was no sound from Lena, and when he shot a glance in her direction he saw why. Her head lolled back against the headrest, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Blood smeared the glass to her right, and Rudy knew that she needed medical help immediately.

   “Shit,” he muttered, still fighting the wheel while the car shot out of the curve. He thought for a moment that he had it under control, but then the car that had been following slammed into his vehicle from behind. 

   “Hang on,” he yelled as loudly as he could, hoping that the two in the back could hear his voice over their own. “Here we go!”

   The car slid, turning as the tires lost traction on the wet pavement. Rudy managed to keep all four wheels on the ground, reacting with cool precision when the back end fishtailed from one side to the other. He knew that the second car was still behind him, its driver no doubt waiting for a chance to ram him again. And though Rudy’s first choice would have been to face his pursuers, beating the other drivers at their own game, he had the girls to consider. Their presence in the car meant that a round of bumper cars on the narrow stretch of road was out of the question. Therefore, his only option was to hit the gas and hope that he was the better driver. 

   The lights in the mirror grew brighter, a second pair of eyes joining the first when the car that had passed him hung a U-turn and fell in behind the other. Seeing this, Rudy adjusted his seatbelt and squared his shoulders. A quick word to the girls in the back, and then a look of fierce determination settled onto his face. Eyes focused, right foot steadily pressing the gas pedal toward the floor, Rudy began to run.

* * *

Letters From My Father is my first non-fiction novel, and centers around the letters that my mother received while my father was away during World War II. I was supplied with scrapbooks that contained a wealth of history, and I’m hoping that other people will find this collection to be as interesting as I do. I don’t have a cover to show you yet, but here is one of my favorite entries.


Connie Velarde, 18-year-old beautician, was the overwhelming choice of servicemen on the island for the title of “Miss Guam, 1946” in the WXLI-sponsored contest to select the queen of Guamanian beauties. Connie’s working address is IsCom Beauty shop, her home, Agana.

* * *

Both Winter of the Drill and Letters From My Father are scheduled for a December release, and while the books in the Drill series are not intended for young or easily offended readers, Letters is completely family friendly.

Thank you again for visiting with me today. Don’t forget to leave a comment so that you can be entered into the drawing, and remember – you don’t need to be an #RRBC member to win!

 Contact Information

Twitter: @rhanidchae



Purchase link for Shadow of the Drill


This is a great post that I think we can all learn a little bit from.

Books By Nonnie

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Location:  Louisiana


$10.00 Amazon Gift Card

$10.00 Starbuck’s Gift Card

$5 Itunes Gift Card

(1) Autographed copy of “THE GOOD MOMMIES’ GUIDE…” (US Winners only)


First, my apologies for the delay in opening my door this morning.  I am just so crazy busy, that sleep is a precious commodity of mine,  and I could not stay awake one moment longer to get this all finished.  But, that’s all water under the bridge now because you all are here, you all look so beautiful and of course, there is an open bar with my two “John’s” serving little fancy drinks to keep everyone happy today!  John H., John F….where are you guys?

Something has been weighing on my heart, and when something sticks with me this long, I…

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I had to reblog

Watch Nonnie Write!

Block Party Badge(1)Welcome to the 21st day of the Rave Reviews Book Club’s 1st BACK-TO-SCHOOL BOOK & BLOG BLOCK PARTY! 

In Memory of:  Author, Kathryn C. Treat

Location:  California

Departed this earth:  December 21, 2014

DAILY GIVEAWAY (2 Winners): 

(1) $5 Amazon Gift Card

(1) Ebook copy of “ALLERGIC TO LIFE”


Hello, and thank you so much for taking the time to join me as I celebrate the memory of our friend and family member, the late, Author, Kathryn C. Treat.

Kathryn Treat IAOTM72913

Kathryn is never far from my mind, as I’m sure is the case for many of you who were blessed to know her.  Anytime the club creates a new program, the first thing to pop out of my mouth is, “Kathryn would love this.”  When I formulated the concept of RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB, there were a few people that I knew I just had to have on…

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Wanted to share this post for the writers out there who are not aware of what 4Wills offers. I have used their services several times, and have always been thrilled with the results. The fact that they are so affordable is a definite bonus. So check them out, and see what they have to offer. If you need it, and they do it, I would definitely talk to them first.

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SPECIAL SURPRISE WINfor those who read all the way through.  That’s the only way to find the hidden treasure!!!

Welcome to 4WillsPublishing Author Services!  We are so excited to be apart of this magnificent blog tour event, RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB’S BACK-TO-SCHOOL BOOK & BLOG BLOCK PARTY, but we’re even more excited to have you join us today!  C’mon in and turn up the music, while we give you a little company background.  (Get comfy, you just entered a HAPPY zone!  And if you leave without reading all the way through, you just might miss something…

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The Poetry of GE Shaw

Today I would like to share with you the poetry of my new friend, G E Shaw. I must admit that I am not a fan of most modern poetry, but there are times when a poet’s work catches my attention and draws me in. This is one of those times.

* * *

These particular poems come from the most recent book scheduled out later this fall (Poetry of the Soul, Prophecy)

G E Shaw

A Father’s Love

When I rest my eyes,

The fear of time,

Appears frozen in place,

And there are moments that passed by,

Like movie reels of the past,

The present and the future

That encompasses everything you are to me…


Years pass, months grow longer,

Days fade away,

But memories sustain the substance of time…


Tear drops of emotions,

Echoes loudly,

As it slices through my pain,

Nevertheless the presence of your love,

Remains translucent…throughout infinity…


A love that strengthens, for decades,

As it passes through the lineage,

Of our ancestral heritage;

For there is no greater power,

Than the gift,

I give to you, of a “Father’s Love”…


Age of Awareness

The “Age of Awareness”,

Comes too soon

For many, it represents the barriers

To a never-ending hell—

The deepest of containments

Which lacks the understanding

The maturity,

The rapid growth—


It is a disease environment

That houses no shelter lives

The innocence is not protected—

The “Age of Awareness”

Comes to soon for many

They aged too quickly

Society has created this oral history—

This trepidation that causes a reciprocal effect

For all generations

Entrenched within the depths

Of our seedlings

The “Age of Awareness”

Comes to soon

            For many of us—


From Book Three (Poetry of the Soul, Unveiled)

These short stories, represent times, and emotions that occurred during a segment of my life when I was seeking understanding or rejoicing for that moment.

If you can vividly imagine yourself sitting and chatting with a friend, family member or just sitting back contemplating with yourself on something that just occurred in your life, then these short poetic minuets has serve its purpose.

A Young Boy’s Faith


Hey! The other day, I read an article  

About a young boy

How old, I truly cannot say

Although, he was astonishing and enlightening to me

A person so young  

So aware of his spiritual world

The world that surrounds him  

His words, eloquently spoken

Chime with joy  

Yet, it resonated with sadness

I felt it all, you know, within that same split second—

As I read this article  

The other day  

It spoke highly of this person  

Who arouse me  

If you can understand, the deepness

The depths of where this article took me

With his soft-spoken words  

The warmness of his voice  

The words, they just lifted from the page

That captivated me—


As I waited for the next syllable  

Anticipating what he might say  

I dare not remove these eyes  

In fear—something might escape my sight

Then gradually, as the article open itself to me

The source of this boy’s unhappiness  

Snatched me, and it revealed itself to me

It was a lost sister

His sister, who had yet to reach the age of five,

She had passed away

Um, she had died unexpectedly, taken from this universe—

“Captivation Held on to Me”


Why, you might ask, was I captivated by this?

This article, I was reading

It is how, he spoke with reverence

Of a sister—who past

That astonished my whole being

(You See!)

He was buying a gift  

To comfort her loneliness…

Therefore, there would be no loneliness

She would not endure the solitude  

That would be that passenger

She would long dread

On her endless travel—


He wanted her evolution  

Of those last spiritual moments

Here on this earth  

To be a blissful one

A peaceful transition                                                      Through her transformation                                                     To heaven’s realm—                                                               For he just knew God’s kingdom awaits her arrival            With open arms

Man! Greg that is very deep                                                        The translation of this article                                                    You just read—

 What a powerful thing

To know her soul

Is purified—By God

With the protection of his angels

Her escorts

Accompanying her to the halls of heaven–

Yes, as I stood there in amazement

After reading that article

How he motivated me, a young boy

With his perception of death  

And his strength of faith—


The only answer,                                                                                                                                       I had, was that there must be a “God”                                                                                                How else can you explain a young boy’s echoing declaration of devotion                                For the love of a sister  

Who went way before her time—

From Book Two (Poetry of the Soul, Revelations)

‘Poetry of the Soul’ (Revelations) represents the second stage of my evolution of personal and spiritual growth. Along with my personal and spiritual growth, revelations look further into what makes us human. It centers on the real meaning of our existence from this writer’s viewpoint. Poetry of the Soul (Revelations) looks at women as a centerpiece or foundational soul of the universe. It is a self-reflection of life, society, and family. These selections make up the very fabric of our existence. It truly engages the perception of family, dreams, and the purity of life itself.

Revelations is the ability to look deeply into one’s soul and understand the true purpose of the human spirit. To forge ahead for the betterment of one’s self through resolve, fortitude, and vision of our own faults. My hope is that in reading these selections each individual will found their own personal and spiritual growth. The intent of this book is to incite interaction and personal growth. To allowed us to dig deep, and reveal our own personal demons and rid them through personal reflections and cleansing of the soul.


Shadow walkers  

Invisible Icons  


Imaginary replicas   

Distinguish by the light  

But, cloak by the darkness  

Mirror reflections of oneself  

No cultural identification to speak of   

For they represent, the rainbow coalition  

            Of humanity, without judgment  

                        Or persecution—  

From the Original  Book (Poetry of the Soul)


AGE (Transformation)



It represents the continuance of time within the universe-  


      The continuance within time itself-  

Like the dimensions of time and space –  

Age is ever evolving to higher plains of existence-  


 For us simple mortals, age represents simplicity-  

The simplicity of an embryo-  

That comes with the transformation into puberty-

Through which we transition-

Like a rite of passage into adolescence-  

For through adolescence, exploration within us begins—   


And within this exploration-  

Our transformation into adulthood begins-  

Throughout these stages,  

We age ever so amiably,   

“I hope”  

               But none-the-less we do age—  


Sanity becomes insanity,  

       For age signals our time   

Our historic dialogue   

That lay within that moment-  

Like an hour glass in time-  

               WE AGE!  



* * *


Thank you for stopping by today, and I hope that you enjoyed the poetry of G E Shaw. His work is available from Lulu at

 I hope you’re having a festive Labor Day weekend, and I hope to be back on Wednesday.


Contact Information

Twitter: @rhanidchae



Purchase link for Shadow of the Drill