#pacificnorthwest #kapheirapress #fiction

Celia Croft ran to catch the train as it pulled out of the station. She was late again. Always late to work, but that was work. Celia had always expected to be early when she had to be nowhere in particular other than on vacation. The rail car was in chaos as everyone headed to Kuranda for the holiday. Every compartment was full as she made her way down the aisle, her first class ticket a rare treat. Finally the very last one had a few seats free across from a young couple.

It's not at easy as it sounds creating new worlds, and I am usually very faithful to history, but a few places just sprang to life. Kapheira, its a world that doesn't exist. Creating a fantasy world anything can happen, anything at all. But to fit a country into our own that doesn't exist with all the histories, peoples, trouble, that people know so well. It takes more work than it sounds like. Kapheira sits in the Aegean off the coast of Turkey. Acquired by a British Co

Ever want something exciting to happen in your town, that's just what I did writing Murder beside the Salish Sea. Not that Bellingham, WA isn't close to sea and mountains, a boat ride from the San Juan Islands, good shopping, great restaurants, but its slogan is the city of Subdued Excitement. Sitting here in the mist of winter I dreamed of more happening here. Bellingham really did have an Army Airfield that shuttled planes to Russia through the lend lease program and th

This is something I wrote a very long time ago, once it had come out in Women of their time, an anthology of a number of short stories I wrote years and years ago. To the Ends of the Earth China 1376 The sun was turning the buildings golden yellow in the cold air of the setting sun. Beyond they could see the high rugged mountains capped with snow. The Great Wall and the mountains forced them to leave the wide-open countryside and file through the funnel at the pass. It was t

A cold wind blows through the aspens tonight as I long for you holding me close. Wolves howl out of the darkness as a moose browses lazily with its young, breaking the song of the wind in the trees. The moon reflects in the lake below me and all I see is your face. I sit on the front steps wearing your shirt, one that smells so much of you. The song that was on the radio as you walked out of the door - it seems so long ago – runs through my head. The fall breeze hits my fac