A Prisoner's Promise
Anne Algani’s life and identity are forever changed when she encounters a man from abroad, swearing to be her deceased father’s brother. Her captivating journey of discovery brings about an encounter with chilling vengeance, complicated conspiracies, heart-stopping risks, and a sizzling passion culminating in an unexpected finale. An excellent Christmas read.
Available now at Amazon.com

"A Prisoner's Promise" out now on Amazon. A good read for Christmas.

Anne Algani’s life and identity are forever changed when she encounters a man from abroad, swearing to be her deceased father’s brother. Her captivating journey of discovery brings about an encounter with chilling vengeance, complicated conspiracies, heart-stopping risks, and a sizzling passion culminating in an unexpected finale.

Read more from The Promise Series at: www.ckalber.com

"Garth, Penny and Melody."

The streets were icy and the snow deep. Pointed icicles hung dangerously from rooftops. Few people trudged through the drifts at this early morning hour as I stood outside the metro station. I was bundled up in layers of scarfs, boots, gloves, and my long heavy wool coat. In one hand I clutched a huge bag full of blankets. In the other one --- breakfast and a thermos full of hot tea. I scanned the street up one side and down the other and then I saw them. Penny with Melody on a leash.
"Hey, over here," I hollered.
Penny glanced up, waved, and put her hand in the stop mode. "She's pooping."
I waited and watched. Even in the deep snow, Penny scooped up the pile Melody had left, put it into a plastic bag, and tossed it into a trash can. She picked up the small dog and crossed the street.
Melody was shivering.
"I brought some things for you and---,"
"You got a minute?"
I nodded. It was Sunday and my purpose was to make at least one person comfortable before I could return to my cozy, warm home.
"Follow me." Penny wrapped her unzipped jacket around Melody.
We shuffled through unplowed alleyways, past overfilled garbage bins, around a corner, and then I saw it. The shack Penny had mentioned during our previous meeting. A brown shingled, dilapidated structure that tilted.
"Come in," Penny said as she hoped up the two rickety steps.
I must have looked skeptical.
"It won't fall," she chuckled as she eyed my bags. "I smell food and we're starving."
Please don't let me see a lit fire in there, I thought as I edged in sideways through the small opening. Much to my relief there wasn't but what I did see, I could never have been prepared for. A circle of eight, including one small child, two other dogs, and Garth, huddled around an electric heater.
Garth jumped up.
"Well, fancy meeting you here."
He took the bags from my outstretched hands. I searched for the electrical outlet powering up the heater.
"How on earth---,"
"Don't ask," Garth volunteered as he pointed to a disheveled, older man. "Meet Victor. Our retired electrical engineer."

To be continued.
Behind Every Window Lies a Story. Find out what some of the stories are in this circle of friends.
Remember the homeless. Don't judge them, for you know not their story.
www.ckalber.com  Author of The Promise Series.

Penny's Plight

Overnight the snow had blown as a full force blizzard, leaving behind drifts that snow plows hadn't yet cleared. I couldn't help thinking about my homeless acquaintance from the day before and wondered how he would manage to stay warm. I trudged my way to the metro station and down the steps to wait.
Three trains passed on my side. My breath came out as frosty huffs of air. I tapped my foot nervously and peered around the lady beside me.
"Got a light?" A brown tattered glove waved in front of my face. She clenched the cigarette between chattering teeth.
"I don't smoke."
"That a thermos you have there?" She eyed the container I clasped between gloved hands.
I nodded.
"I'll bet it's tea." She smiled. "Hot tea."
"Yes it is. I brought it for a ---,"
"A friend? That would be me. I'm now your best friend." Both hands came towards the thermos.
She must have thought I would say no to her request.
"I'm so cold," she added.
I unscrewed the cup and poured. She took off her gloves and wrapped her hands around the warmth of the cup.
"You're an angel in disguise. My name's Penny." She blew into the hot steam and sipped.
"Penny, are you homeless?" I dared to ask.
"I live in my car but this morning it wouldn't start. Melody's in there hoping I bring back some food."
"A child is in your car? Alone?"
"My dog."
She caught my surprise and laughed. Her eyes were a beautiful green.
"We go everywhere together. No shelters for me if I can't bring Melody too."
"What happened to you, Penny? You're not too old to find a job."
"And just where do you think I'd leave Melody?" Her eyes narrowed into slits. "I was married for years and had a couple of kids. When my husband left me and divorced me, he took everything."
"You must have family you could call."
"Nope." Her eyes widened. "No one must know I can't make it on my own."
"But it's dangerous out there." I pointed towards the tunnel.
You'd be surprised how many of us there are in the same situation." Penny sighed. "We help each other when we can."
Tears welled on my lashes. I swiped at one as it fell.
"Hey, don't worry about me. Everything will work out in the end."
The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile.
"Several of us have built a shack. One room but now we've stocked it with blankets. It'll keep us warm when the weather's like this." She glanced at the beamed ceiling over the tracks. Maybe thankful the roof was sturdy and dry.
Penny rose and outstretched her hand with the thermos. "Here."
"Keep it," I encouraged. Maybe you could fill it with hot water from one of the fast food places."
"Yea, sure," she smirked.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. "Food for Melody and maybe some left over for you."
"Thanks." Penny pocketed the bill. "Come see our shack some time. It's over there."
She pointed to the tunnel, as Garth had done to indicate where he lived. Maybe they knew each other. Maybe not.
I sat in awe long after Penny left. Homeless people. Our own and what do we do to care for them?

The names in this story have been changed to protect the identities of the characters.
Remember some of our Veterans are homeless too. Volunteer at a homeless shelter if you can.
Read more about author C.K. Alber and The Promise Series at: http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber
www.ckalber.com

Monday's Meditative Minds

The first day I met Garth was in the metro station. He sat beside me, rose twice, paced, picked up a cigarette stub from the floor, and puffed away. He plopped back down a little too close and I scooted to the edge of the bench.
"I make you nervous?" He asked in a gruff voice. "Name's Garth."
I shook my head.
Not easy to pinpoint the age of this man. Gaps where teeth were missing in his mouth. Bleached hair, tanned skin, about a week's worth of dark beard.
He stared. I felt uneasy.
"Got any spare change?'
I fished in the bottom of my bag where coins jingled. I wanted to give him a bill or two but knew it was unwise to pull out my wallet at this point.
Numerous coins lay in my palm.
"Can't even buy a cup of coffee with this," he complained.
"Sorry."
"You have wallet in there?"
I inched closer to the edge. He chuckled.
You're gonna fall off and then what?"
I shrugged, got my wallet out and gave him five dollars. He pushed the bill inside a dirty jean's pocket.
Stretching to see around him, I searched for my train.
"It's the weekend. Longer wait." He flicked the stub to the tracks. "Live around here?"
I shook my head.
"I'm stayin over there." He pointed to the inside of the tunnel.
A frown surely crossed my brows.
"Yep. Got out of the service, couldn't find a job, and that's my roof for now."
My curiosity piqued. "You live under the metro station?"
Someone sat on the other side of him.
He turned. "Got a dollar to spare?"
His price had increased.
"Doesn't the military take care of you?"
"Got PTSD. They see me. That's about all."
Everyone knew these days about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. And most everyone knew how the Vets were left out of the equation after they returned from the war they were fighting.
"Have you tried to find a job?" I was hesitant about delving into his private life.
"Nah. Don't much care to take orders from anyone anymore."
I spotted the lights of my train coming through the tunnel and stood.
"Nice meeting you, Lady." He stuck out a grimy hand. We fist bumped. "Maybe see you tomorrow? Same time?"
I checked my watch. "Sunday? Maybe." And I knew in that minute I'd be back to hear the rest of Garth's story.

Garth's story will continue the following Monday. The names in this meeting have been changed to protect the characters' identities.
Remember our Vets and volunteer to help the Homeless.
To learn more about C.K. Alber, take a look at the Romantic Suspense she writes at:
http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber

"A Prisoner's Promise"

Anne Algani’s life is traumatized and her identity disputed when she encounters an alleged uncle from abroad, swearing to be her deceased father’s brother. She sets out to discover the truth and along the way encounters a chilling vengeance, heart-stopping risks, and sizzling passion as an unexpected turn of events take place.

Handsome, muscle-toned Sean DeRosa, a longtime friend of Anne’s, is a military man on a mission. His heart-strung, mental assignment is to recapture her love and the only way to do that is to eliminate the other man.

Ralph Williams, a private investigator and a devilishly hunky male, has secured Anne’s heart.  His rugged search on the home front and abroad, for who Anne really is, unearths an electrifying shock.

Book number 3, in The Promise Series, will be released in December. 

www.ckalber.com
##Suspense

https://www.nightowlreviews.com/V5/Magazine/Free-Booklovers-Mag-Nov-2016/Articles/Bolder-And-Older-C-K-Alber-by-Lizzie-T-Leaf

Read an interview with author C.K. Alber at the site above.

"A Prisoner's Promise," book #3 from The Promise Series, out the latter part of December. 

Anne Algani's life and identity are forever changed when she encounters a man from abroad swearing to be her deceased father's brother. Her captivating journey of discovery brings about an encounter with chilling vengeance, complicated conspiracies, heart-stopping risks, and sizzling passion culminating in an unexpected finale. 

Downsizing material things.

If you knew you had to downsize from a three-story home to two carpet bags, what would you eliminate?
Here's Joe and Ellie's story.
It was time for this doctor and his wife of many years to retire. Their dream, now that the children were grown, had always been to own a boat. One that would sleep eight, possibly six people comfortably. Their land home, situated on a lake with acres of surrounding property, sold immediately. They held an auction and were able to sell almost everything. The boat was purchased, restored and updated. Why they even installed some kind of solar panels.

"How does one decide what to keep?" I asked.  "I have photos from babies to adulthood and albums galore."
"You make piles of those photos.  Keep the ones that make you smile or bring back a strong memory,"  Joe's gaze dropped.  "That was the hardest part."
"Why didn't you put things in storage?"
"Our goal was to have everything we owned on our water-home."  He inhaled deeply and put his arm around Ellie.  "We walked away with our two bags, some instruments to play on board, and now that we're traveling, our life's dream has become realized."
"Will you ever live on land again?"
Joe caught Ellie's gaze and held it.  He shrugged. "Maybe. But for now we want to see all the waterways we can and take long needed walks when we anchor."
Ellie lovingly grabbed his hand and held tight.  "We've met some amazing people on this venture."
"Are you keeping a journal?" I asked out of curiosity.
"We are," she smiled. "Now that Joe has retired and has all of this time on his hands, he just might get back to writing novels."
"Are you kidding?" Joe laughed.  "We actually have less time here than we had on land.  There's so much to learn about the functions of a water-home. Plus, we have so many places to see.  Nope, not likely I'll get to writing for awhile."

If you'd like to see more by this author, go to:
http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber

From my window to yours.

From my window to yours, no matter where you live, may this weekend be filled with peace and love for all mankind.

Betrayal. Terror. Death. Love.

Read excerpts at: http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber
Go to: www.bookstrand.com/c.k.alber
           www.lafeltrinelli.it
           www.amazon.co.uk/
           www.barnesandnoble.com
             

Waiting for ---?

Waiting for his person? Waiting for a walk?
What goes through our animals minds? I do know this. I can be missing for a day or a month and I get the same wet licks, tail wags, and high jumps until I put everything down to pet and hold.
Luna has a favorite red ball. Is it the color or the shape that attracts her? Do animals even see color? Bulls do, right?
And that unconditional love they dole out every waking minute of their lives --- wow, why can't humans learn from that. We'd be a peaceful earth if that could happen.

Happy reading.

Read  an excerpt from The Promise Series by author C.K. Alber @ http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber 
Her favorite saying is: "In my stories, animals never die --- only people do."

Why we celebrate "Women's Day," March 8th, around the world.

We celebrate this day because of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, March 25th, 1911, in Manhattan, New York City.
Stairwells and exits were locked to keep the garment workers from taking breaks. At approximately 4:40 p.m.when the fire erupted, no one could escape from the horrendous upper-story fire. 146 died that day --- most of them young women.
We celebrate their lives with the Mimosa flower. Never let us forget March 8th and let all women be honored for their rolls in life, no matter where they are or what they've done.

One way to profess your love on Valentine's Day.

How one romantic person professed love in the narrow streets of Naples, Italy. The sign reads: 'One day, suddenly, I fell in love with you.'
Does true love exist? Is it ever lasting? What about soul mates?
I have had more than one true love. I believe that my own personal romantic stories are leaning experiences in life and they have made me the person I am today --- a great story writer.
One of my loves took place as in the movie "Sliding Doors" and it also happened in Italy.
How did your true love take place and where did it happen?

To learn more about the author of Romantic Suspense and "The Promise Series" go to: http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber  --- or follow this blog.

Happy Saturday and may you have a happy ever after love in your life.

Appreciation for our Teachers

Never stop telling our teachers how much we appreciate them. They work overtime at school, prepare at home, console parents about problem children and on and on. We all know that, because most of us either have been teachers or know one personally.
Today, I would like to acknowledge one teacher in particular,
She's a single parent on a teacher's salary. That means --- she holds down two other jobs, when she doesn't have her kids, to make ends meet. But she never stops loving the tiring work that she does in education and never gives up her smile. Not even the day she was moving out of her large home, to downsize, and received the call that she had stage 1 cancer. The Monday she was completely moved in, was the day she had her surgery.
Behind every window, teachers have their stories too. I wish we could give every teacher, past or present, a large bonus for all of the years they have dedicated to their profession. Maybe this year, the new chosen government (by the people) will see fit to do just that.
Until then --- bless each and every one of our teachers worldwide.

Learn more about author C. K. Alber at http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber

Carol's Candid Interview.

Carol:  Life was good. I had a college degree in counseling, a man who adored me, marriage, doting parents, a great job, trips abroad. Oh, and I can't forget about out golden retriever, Lucky. We felt blessed.
A frown flitted between her brows, crinkling her forehead. She nibbled her bottom lip between perfect white teeth. 
Carol was in her early fifties, had long dishwater-blond hair, a beautiful face but sad chestnut-colored eyes. 
Me: Did you have children?
She shook her head.
Carol: I loved my job. Thought we had plenty of time to complete out family. Then everything I mentioned before disappeared.
She got up and took slow steps to the window, pulled back a side of the curtain, and peered out. When she turned around her expression had changed. Darkness clouded her eyes. 
Carol: Divorce. Death. I lost my job.
Sinking into a tattered arm chair, Carol took a deep breath. Her fingers tapped the wooden armrest claws of the overstuffed chair. 
Carol: I was diagnosed with manic depression. In other words, I'm bipolar.
Me: Are you in therapy?
Carol: Yes, and I take pills.  But I can't work.
Me: Why not if you're on medication?
Carol: I just don't do well around crowds any more. I sleep a lot.
She patted her old dog's head.
Carol: I still have Lucky, so not everyone left me.
Her hand encompassed the area around her.
Carol: My dad willed me this house so I don't have to worry about rent, but I have to count my pennies. I'm on disability.
Another deep breath.
Me: Do you have friends you can talk to?
Carol: Yes. When I let them in.
Me: In this house?
Carol: In my thoughts.

It was time to give Carol a break. After years of not seeing her, she had "let me in" and I didn't want to deplete her trust in me. She is, after all, a friend of mine.

Her name has been changed to protect her identity. 

Find out more about author C.K. Alber @ http://www.amazon.com/author/ckalber






  

Monday's Challenge.

Is life ever simple or easy? Challenges takes special efforts to manage or overcome and most of us have them --- sometimes daily. Illness, addiction, poverty, are just a few among many. Do you have a story behind your window? Please share it with me and I will publish a few of them.
For today --- happy Monday.