Wow... what a year. 2024.

 

 

Wow!

What a wonderful year it has been for the South Branch Scribbler!

 

Join us today as we uncover a few facts about last year.

125000 visitors

47 guests

 Here's a few of them

Our most popular guest posts of 2024 participating creatives.

Olive Mazerolle of NB, Canada – 711 visits

Please go HERE

Katherine Melanie of Atlantic Canada - 560 visits

Please go HERE

Nancy Cusak of NB, Canada - 501 visits

Please go HERE

Suzanne Casey of NB, Canada - 494 visits

Please go HERE

Sally Cronin of Ireland – 373 visits

Please go HERE

 

This year we even had a visual artist as a guest.

 

Nadine Godin 0f Neguac, NB, Canada – 202 visits

Please go HERE

 

The top pages from the past but visited in 2024.

 

Artist Susan Jardine of Shediac, NB, Canada – 958 visits

Please go HERE

Author Susan Toy of Bequia, Caribbean & NFLD – 783 visits

 

Please go HERE.

A list of creatives who shared the Scribbler pages over the last year.

Ivan Holiday Arsenault. Hollay Ghadery

Susan E. Wadds. Valerie Sherrard

Jon Hurd. SC Eston

Zev Bagel. Brian Francis

Andrew MacLean. Anne Dowdall

Mark E. Shupe. Sally Cronin

A Few More.....

Chuck Bowie. Michelle MacLean

Bea Waters. Gianetta Murray

Chantal MacDonald. Kade Cook

Paige LePage. Stella MacLean

Nicola Davison. Nadine Godin

Olive Mazerolle. Kathy Shuker

Joe Mahoney. D. C. Malcolm

Louise Boulter. Rhonda Bulmer

Sandra Bunting. Tina Lalonde

Angela Wren. Raymonde Savoie

... and a few more ...

Dianne Pennell. Rick Revelle

Joanna Vander Vlugt. Sandra Woods Poulin

Diane McGyver. Suzanne Casey

Katherine Melanie. Em Whelly

Sheryl Doiron-Powers. Joe Powers

Hannah State

 

... and a few more ...

 

Personally I’ve had a great year with the introduction of my latest novel

One Bedroom Ark.

 

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I participated in another anthology with a group of eight other talented authors know as the Seasonal Collective.

Summer Paths

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In the works …

Code Name: Iron Feather 1942

Arriving Spring, 2025.

 

Camp Debert, an army base being built next door to Royal Canadian Air Force Base in Debert, Nova Scotia on the east coast of Canada. Thousands of thousands of men and women will pass through on their way to Europe. Units will be mustered, weapons handed out and training for war. The contractors are still erecting buildings as fast as they can.

The new mess on the army base is partially completed until work stops when the foreman finds a dead body hanging from the rafters. Not a soldier, but an airman.

Everything is hush-hush. The commanding officer has asked for the investigation to be handled by Warrant Officer Stefan Kravchenko of the Air Force Service Police. He’s ordered to Camp Debert, immediately. Upon arrival he discovers the scene is all wrong. The medical examiner suggests it may look like a suicide, but …

 

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The Alexanders Vol 3 1926 – 1930

Fall 2025.

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Earth

An anthology from the Seasonal Collective, ten authors joining together with their short stories under the theme Earth. June, 2025.

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The Greater Moncton, Riverview & Dieppe Book Fair was held in July of 2023.

An enjoyable day with curious readers.

50 authors gathered in one place.

Fun!

Planning for the 2025 event is underway and I hope you will join us.

Same place – Riverview Lions Center

April 26, 2025 10 AM – 3 PM.

 Click on FUN! above.

 

Watch next week for the last guest of the year, we are excited to have Suzy Krause of Saskatchewan, Canada. 

 

 

Thank you everyone for visiting, reading and your comments.

The Story Behind the Story with author Ivan Holiday Arsenault of Daytona, Florida, USA.

 

Let’s welcome Ivan back to the Scribbler.

For all you fantasy and sci-fi lovers, he has a new book and he’s here this week to share the SBTS and an excerpt.

He’s been a guest before and if you missed his previous visit, please go HERE.

Read on my friends.

 

I am a former American Mensa member with a passion for adventure and a lifelong love for the open road. Since 1986, I’ve ridden my 1979 Harley Shovelhead, embracing every mile as part of the journey. My diverse career spans service as a Private Military Contractor and former Blackwater member, along with training U.S. Army soldiers on Heavy Tactical Vehicles in Iraq and Afghanistan in 2008. In 1986, I invented the CRV Child’s Riding Belt, a device designed to aid in the rehabilitation of paraplegic children, which earned me a nomination for an Honorary Ph.D. from the University of Alberta. Beyond my professional achievements, I am deeply passionate about the realms of fantasy and science fiction. I have a special appreciation for Harry Potter, Tolkien’s works, Dungeons & Dragons, cosplay, and Comicon, where I fully embrace the magic of imagination.

 

Title:  Merlin Ragnarr – Curse of the BloodDrinker

 

Synopsis:

 A sixteen year old freshman, the half human / half god - son of Thrud Thordottir, conceals his identity while studying at the esteemed Şeiðrune School of Viking Sorcery. Tragedy strikes when Merlin's girlfriend and her twin sister become vampires, victims of a plot orchestrated by the malevolent Darkmind, who previously attempted but failed to force him to unlock an evil Grimoire.

 

Swamped in guilt, Merlin Ragnarr embarks on a quest for a cure. He visits the lair of Valsorra the Vile, the mother of all dragons, who informs him of a banished Norse god, who has been living on Earth for eons, posing as Lucifer. Armed with a magical compass guiding him through the Mirror Realm, Merlin's journey takes him to Mississippi's crossroads where he traps and eventually kills Lucifer, and his blues playing demon.

 

On his return to the Mirror Realm, a Mongolian necromancer named Sokkhora Sain, a god-cursed ghost locked in the maze, battles Merlin but later offers knowledge of an Egyptian blood amulet, which could suppress the twins' vampiric tendencies. In exchange, Merlin must find Sokkhora’s long-lost love, Mjöll.

 

Back at Şeiðrune school, with a group of allies - Mouse, Jackyl, Jenna Bug, and Angus, Merlin navigates the mystical Mirror maze, retrieving Sokkhora's demonic Katana and a Jade pendent, he is able to reunite the necromancer with Mjöll.

The reward for his efforts is the knowledge that the amulet lies in circa 1590 Scotland, where Merlin, accompanied unexpectedly by his cockatoo Sidney, lands in ancient Scotland.

Merlin allies with Tara, a teen healer accused of witchcraft, and faces adversaries, including a Viking warlock-turned-vampire named Gerhardt Wolfthorn. A treacherous turn sees Merlin betrayed by Tara's friend, Randall, who reveals the theft of the original amulet by Wolfthorn. In an intense confrontation, Merlin defeats Wolfthorn but suffers the loss of an innocent, Ella, who becomes collateral damage.

 

Further complexities arise as Merlin discovers that King James VI is exploiting the witch trials, exchanging the souls of the condemned for occult secrets, using a book called the 'Key of Solomon'.

Facing capture and threats to his companions, Merlin hunts down a royal galleon, confronts a demon- possessed king, and saves both Sidney and Tara. Before returning to his time, Merlin is forced to navigate a delicate emotional landscape with Tara, who briefly contemplates destroying the compass to keep Merlin in her era. But, cunningly he convinces Tara to turn over his compass, and returns to the school.

 

The amulet's power allows Frost and Raven to control their newfound vampiric instincts, offering a semblance of normality. Yet, Merlin, to his surprise, learns he's to chaperon the girls during summer vacation, and as a final twist, before leaving for Norway with the Blackwell family, he gifts his mentor, Magus Lin Po, the arcane katana – only to discover, it once belonged to the mentor's lost brother.

The Story Behind the Story:

This novel is book #2 of my Merlin Ragnarr series—a standalone story in its own right—and I believe it represents my best work to date. It took me three years to complete, a journey that has not only refined my writing but also deepened my connection to those I’ve lost. Friends and family members who have passed away live on as characters in my novels, keeping them close to my heart. Through these stories, I create a space where I can continue to interact with them, ensuring their presence remains part of my life.

At 66,890 words, this young adult/urban fantasy novel embodies my lifelong passion for the genre. That passion began with a cherished possession from my childhood: the very first Dungeons & Dragons dice bag I received at 12 years old. Now, at 65, as a Tolkien aficionado, devoted Potterhead, and admirer of Viking Magick, I bring a unique, reflective perspective to this story.

While the larger saga continues to unfold, The Curse of the Blood Drinker stands complete as its own rich narrative, while laying the groundwork for future adventures in the series.

 

 

Website: Please go HERE.

A couple of questions before you go, Ivan:

Scribbler: Where is your favorite spot to write?

Ivan: In my Arcane Officer! lol

Scribbler: Are you messy or neat?

Ivan: I’m a neat person with a messy office.

Scribbler: Your beverage of choice?

Ivan: Joe Muggs coffee shop - The Frappe That Shall Not Be Named



An Excerpt: 

Merlin Ragnarr – Curse of the BloodDrinker

Merlin lowered his hood, sporting a triumphant smirk that only fueled the Devil's tempestuous rage. Clawed fists pounded the pentagram’s invisible barrier as Helblindi’s primal fury shook the ground of his mystic prison.

“Are you angry because you’re trapped?” Merlin taunted, his voice a blend of confidence and mischief. “Or because it was I who trapped you?”

Frothing through his fangs like a rabid dog, Helblindi bellowed, ramming his horns against the impenetrable barricade.

 “You didn’t trap me, you little shit! You tricked me!” His voice reverberated with murderous malice, “And when I get out of here, you insolent little mongrel, I’m going to roast you alive in the eternal flames of Hell!”

Knowing the devil’s rage stemmed from injured pride, Merlin hoped it would fuel his determination to broker a deal.

Boldly the young sorcerer positioned himself nose to sternum with Helblindi.

 

“That Beelzebub crap may scare your weak-minded minions, but it doesn’t scare me, so let’s cut the crap. Give me the vampire fix, and I’ll cut you loose.”

 

"Fine!" The Devil sneered, fangs snapping in annoyance. “Now release me.” “Not until you tell me first.” Merlin stated.

Helblindi slammed his horns and hands against the impenetrable curtain. "You really think I'm going to trust a filthy Æsir mongrel like yourself?"

A powerful jolt from Splinter sent the Devil to his knees, as Merlin raised his eyes to the flash of chain lightning in the distance. The incoming storm mirrored the escalating intensity of their confrontation.

 “Bastard, son of Thrud!” Helblindi hissed, digging his claws into the earth at his knees. Merlin retaliated with a swift neck strike, delivering a second powerful jolt. “Tell me!” A mouthful of blood spattered the ground as Helblindi raised a malicious grin.

“I’ll tell you this. Your wench will gorge herself on blood till the day you spike her!” Helblindi’s insolent snicker transformed into a gurgling gasp as Merlin drove Splinter into his chest.

The dying Devil fossilized into a charcoal statue as the almighty hand of the Cosmos ripped his black soul from within. Merlin booted the satanic sculpture, reducing it to a mound of ash. “I had no choice!” He grumbled under his breath, his frustration unmistakable.

“Helblindi would never have talked, and there was no way in hell I could trust him. He’d have ghosted me the second I cut him loose. I just gotta find another way.”

Book 1 of the series. 

You novel sounds like a winner. Thank you, Ivan, for being our guest this week, We wish you continued success with your writing.

And another HUGE THANK YOU to all our visitors and readers.

Feel free to tell us what’s on your mind. 

 TY.

The Story Behind the Story with Author/Poet Hollay Ghadery of Ontario, Canada.

Let’s welcome Hollay to the Scribbler.

We are most pleased she has accepted our invitation to share the SBTS of her newest book. A very busy lady and an award winning author I know you will enjoy learning about.

Read on my friends.

Hollay Ghadery is a multi-genre writer living in Ontario on Anishinaabe land. She has her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Guelph. Fuse, her memoir of mixed-race identity and mental health, was released by Guernica Editions in 2021 and won the 2023 Canadian Bookclub Award for Nonfiction/Memoir. Her collection of poetry, Rebellion Box was released by Radiant Press in 2023, and her collection of short fiction, Widow Fantasies, is scheduled for release with Gordon Hill Press in fall 2024. Her debut novel, The Unraveling of Ou, is due out with Palimpsest Press in 2026, and her children’s book, Being with the Birds, with Guernica Editions in 2027. Hollay is a co-host of Angela’s Bookclub on 105.5 FM, as well as HOWL on CIUT 89.5 FM. She is also a book publicist and the Poet Laureate of Scugog Township. Learn more about Hollay at www.hollayghadery.com.


Title: Widow Fantasies

Synopsis:

Fantasies are places we briefly visit; we can’t live there. The stories in Widow Fantasies deftly explore the subjugation of women through the often subversive act of fantasizing. From a variety of perspectives, through a symphony of voices, Widow Fantasies immerses the reader in the domestic rural gothic, offering up unforgettable stories from the shadowed lives of girls and women.

The Story Behind the Story:

Widow Fantasies has its origins in the seven year mark of my marriage. It was at this point when I began to daydream about planning my husband’s funeral. I felt completely depleted and depressed running a house, raising a handful of young kids, holding down a full-time job, and trying to find time to write or do anything for myself. My husband was there, but wasn’t really contributing—at least not without being asked, sometimes multiple times. He didn’t do much of the background work to keep our family running. In fact, I was often in charge of his affairs too: taxes, scheduling appointments, doing his paperwork. I felt less like I had a partner and more like he was another dependent. I was more than happy and ready to take care of my kids as a mother, but was not so thrilled to be constantly mothering my spouse.

I spoke to a therapist and apparently my daydreaming—my fantasizing—about being husband free was not uncommon. Many women in oppressive heteronormative relationships have these fantasies, and they even have a name: widow fantasies. Thinking about how women use fantasies to escape the subjugation of their lives gave rise to all the stories in this collection. The exploration of my feelings also led to a conversation with my husband. Obviously, it was a good, healthy conversation because we’re coming up on 16 years together and he is now an equal, if not the biggest, contributor to our domestic partnership. (He is also the biggest supporter of this 
collection of stories.)

Website: Please go HERE.

A question before you go, Hollay:

Scribbler: Where is your favourite spot to write? Are you messy or neat? Your beverage of choice?


Hollay: I am neat. I cannot think in disorganized spaces! My brain is messy enough. I cannot have my external world reflect my internal one.

An Excerpt:

Georgette’s outside the grain elevator, stance braced as if preparing to stop a train. One of her arms is outstretched, the other is holding her phone to her ear. Her wiry grey-blonde curls spring out from beneath her bandana and she’s talking fast, but from the lip of the front lawn ten feet away, Leyla can’t hear what she’s saying.

The wind picks up and smacks Leyla with a treacle gust of fresh hay from the fields. The chickens squabble.

Lani, swaddled against her chest, grunts and lets loose a lamb’s cry, her little chin quivering.

Leyla’s eyes dart around the yard. She bounces in place, patting Lani’s bottom to calm her. Kent’s truck is still parked by the hay wagon where he left it. The little school bus is bumbling
away from the end of the lane. Ava and the twins wave from the back window. Beetle, in barking pursuit, propels himself up the dirt hill that leads into town, black legs flying like licorice whips.

Everything looks fine, but Leyla’s sure she heard Georgette shout.

She feels it first: the sweep auger, which usually hums, is thumping. It was stuck for the second time this month, and Kent left to fix it after breakfast. He needed to climb into the grain bin and kick it loose. He’d done it a dozen times before.

That was at 6 a.m., so over an hour ago. In her mind, she sees the stove-top clock, splattered with bacon grease. She feels Kent’s arms wrap around her waist while she pushes the bacon around with a fork. His warm, minted breath on her neck. The coffee pot gurgling and how he said he’d be back for breakfast in a few minutes. How she had to close her eyes against the urge to shrug off her own skin.

The wind blows an empty bag of chick feed across the lawn and Georgette howls into the phone.

“My son!”

Years from now, what Leyla will remember most about that morning was how her breasts had been milk-swollen for days and it was agony to have Lani pressed against them. She’ll remember how, the night before, Kent had heated cabbage leaves for her to put in her bra as relief and how, even then, she’d wished he’d go away.

She’ll remember running barefoot across the lawn toward Georgette and the grass being so dew-slick that she slid trying to stop. She’ll remember that when the wind hit the maples, they shook like wet dogs.

Thank you Hollay, for being our guest this week.

We wish you continued success with your writing endeavours.

And a BIG THANK YOU to all our visitors and readers.