What you will find here

This is a place to examine plans filled with hope; plans which promise a refuge from chaos; plans which will shape our futures. Veterans with and without PTSD, Pentecostal Presbyterians, Adjudicated Youth, and Artists-Musicians-Writers: I write what I know. ~~~ Evelyn

Friday, July 8, 2016

Gone for a While, Back Now

Wow, I can't believe it's been almost two years since I last posted on this blog.

But a lot happened in those two years.

Let's see -
May 2014 - I began Denouement Literary Agency, LLC

July 2014 - a very large lump between my scalp and my skull turned out to be cancerous and led to two surgeries.

Also July 2014 - Published The Island Remains through Whiskey Creek Press.

Fall of 2014 - I did not slow down. I went to conventions and conferences as a guest author and spoke at writers groups around the state at least once or twice a month.

Winter of 2014 - I crashed and burned. It caught up with me. So I regrouped and focused within. I relinquished command of Writers for All Seasons to the outstanding and ever-talented Dr. Tracy Zielinski.

Spring of 2015 - struggled to make a go of Denouement. I had about 30 authors interested in this new-style of agency. I was working day and night - editing novels and contacting publishers and helping set up marketing for already published authors. I found a publisher for an author and was so excited!!! Only - the author did not follow through on our contract, and 6 months of hard work didn't pay off.  I realized - probably during the dead of night - that I was basing my success - not on my own hard work, but on the ethics of others: no matter how hard I worked, I would not be successful unless other people did their jobs and/or followed through with their responsibilities.

Summer of 2015 - one year cancer free!

July 2015 - Edited and helped publish Stories for All Seasons - an anthology written by the group I'd facilitated for 10 years - Writers for All Seasons.

August 2015 - The idea of helping people become published authors still impassioned me - I just realized a literary agency was not the best way - for me - to accomplish that. So I began to think about starting my own publishing company.

So I did. I began with Portals Publishing as an imprint of Denouement Literary Agency, LLC and focused on Science Fiction, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, and History. I published Laughing Humans - mostly to walk my way through the process - as trade paperback and an e-book.
It was so much fun!! And the end result was beautiful!!  So I started promoting Portals Publishing.

But something was missing. I had already bought several domains for Building Life-long Inspirational & Successful Strategies - the workshops I was teaching at Women's Resource Centers around the state. So I started BLISS Books to focus on inspirational books.  I began marketing BLISS Books - seeking authors - through the Unity churches around the world.

Between the two houses, I've produced ten books so far - in trade paperback and Kindle, and am now producing Audible versions of each of them.

All of these books are available internationally through Amazon, Books-a-Million, Barnes & Noble, and other on-line stores.

So many books are being sold per project that I'm re-thinking the standard "royalties every 6 month" thing and would like to send out royalty checks every month.

I have 65 projects (manuscripts) lined up and contracted. I've passed by a few proposals, but always tried to give detailed reasons (hopefully in a helpful manner) to those whose books I declined.

Spring 2016 - I began a new writing group at Unity in the Grove Chapel called Writers at Unity. Critique based, I teach a 30 minute lesson and then we share our writing. We meet twice a month and I have fallen in love with writing again.

May 2016 - several classes opened up at Gibbons Street Elementary - where I spent 12 years teaching before someone talked me into becoming a Teacher of Gifted. I prayed about this, applied for 2 of the jobs, interviewed, and was offered a position within 15 minutes of the interview.

Summer 2016 - I am following my BLISS.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

CreativeCon 2014

I was a guest author at CreativeCon in Panama City, FL last weekend. It was brilliant!
Organized by a wonderful young man of the name Jason Kretzer and his friends and family, CreativeCon's second year was held in the West Coast State College library facility.
There were a lot of artists and authors - more on those in my next post.

Look for pictures of the event on my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Excerpt from The Island Remains Chapter Four

Wilhelm was enjoying his Sunday off.  He had just spent two hours in the stables and now was going to the church for morning services.  The path led him beside a small orchard of crabapples.

“Ow! Damnation!” The sound of ripped cloth accompanied the oath.

Wilhelm stopped and peered up into the tree.  “Pettigrew?”

“Bloody hell, keep your voice down, Willy, or Somersby will find us.”  Another sound of ripping and then the boughs danced.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m stealing apples.”

“You shouldn’t do that.  They belong to the Reverend.”

“That’s why it’s called stealing.” The teen stuck his head out and grinned.  “Come up and help me.”


“Willy, I need your help.  My sleeve’s caught on a branch.”

“Oh.” Wilhelm climbed over the stone fence and reached for a low branch.  “Quiet!  Someone’s coming!”

“Quick! Get up here!”

The boy scrambled up and joined his friend.

The blonde hair and pink dress of their tag-a-long appeared as she climbed over the wall.  “I see you.”

“Go away, Gertrude,” Pettigrew hissed.

“I’m not!  I want to steal apples, too.”

“They are crabapples, Trudy.  Very bitter.  Sour.” Wilhelm tried to dissuade her.

“They are sweet at the top of the tree.”  She began to climb.

“No, Gertrude, you’ll fall and get hurt.  The branches are thin up there!”

The German reached for her in response to the panic in Pettigrew’s voice.

“I can do it.  I’m light.”  She passed by the boys and reached out for the bright red fruit.

Distracted by Gertrude, the boys had forgotten to watch out for the Reverend.  His voice boomed up at them, “I know you’re up there.  Come down at once!”

The three children obeyed.

“Pettigrew! And Willy!  Not you, too, Gertrude!” He stood with his hands on his hips towering over them.  “Just what did you think you were doing?”

Gertrude grinned, “We were stealing your apples!”

“Stealing?” He roared, “Thou shall not steal!”

Wilhelm stepped forward, sheltering the other two behind him.  “That’s in the Bible, sir.”

“Of course it’s in the Bible!”

“Pettigrew taught me to read the Bible.  Well, some of it.  And I read that part out loud last night.”

“You should have taken it to heart, boy.”

“Willy wasn’t stealing, Reverend.  He was only helping me get my shirt unstuck.”

Wilhelm pointed to Pettigrew’s shoulder.

“You’re bleeding.” The Reverend’s face clouded with concern.

“Are you going to die?” Gertrude grabbed his hand.  “Are you going to die like our momma?”

“Be silent, Trudy,” Willy scolded.  “Of course he is not going to die.”

“Promise? Promise me, Willy?”

“Gertrude, enough.” To the boys, the Reverend stated, “I need two altar boys this morning.  We’ll clean your wound and bandage you up before putting on your robes.”

Pettigrew opened his mouth to protest but was overrun by Willy’s excitement, “I can be an altar boy? Wirklich?  You’ll let me march down the aisle and light the candles?”

Somersby smiled.

“And we’ll get to wear robes,” Pettigrew supported Willy’s enthusiasm.

“I want to be an altar boy, too!”

“You can’t be an altar boy,” Willy argued.  “You’re a girl.”

“Girls should get to be altar boys,” she insisted as they all walked up to the church.

“Heaven forbid,” Somersby laughed.  “Next you’ll be telling me you want to be a priest.”

“You could be a nun,” Willy suggested.

“We’re not Catholic,” Pettigrew corrected him.

“Well, you could sing in the choir, then.”

She liked that idea so much, she serenaded them into the church.


“How is the headmaster?” Luther and Karl stood as Delamair settled their coffee tray.

“He’s over the worst.  We’re sending him to his brother’s next week, once he can travel.”

“Next week?” Karl’s voice deepened.

“The doctor has a car; he’ll be able to come Friday morning and transport him and help him settle in.”

“You’re not going?” Luther asked.

“I’m needed here.  The doctor will be staying with him at the manor.”

“Oh,” Luther didn’t hide his disgust.  Karl looked questioningly between the two.  She was pale, Luther was red-faced.  With a sudden clarity, Karl despised the headmaster.

Luther took a cup from her.  “So, you will be very busy this week.  Don’t forget to find a refuge for yourself.  You and the Old Man used to sit out in the garden.  Do you still visit it?”

She glanced at Karl and replied, “Yes.  It’s my second favorite place.”

His eyes twinkled.


They sat together in the garden and talked long into the night, but they discussed nothing of a personal nature.  They bantered jokes and debated politics, brushed on religion.  He walked her to the base of the stairs and took her hand in both of his.  He drew it to his mouth and kissed it.  He turned it over and pressed his lips into her palm.

He whispered, “Tomorrow night?”


He kissed her hand again and watched her ascend the stairs.

The next night, he brought a bottle of wine and two glasses and they discussed Wagner and Da Vince; impressionists versus romantics.  She had never been to Paris, so he described the wonders of the Louvre.

The third night, she brought a basket of blackberries she’d gathered that morning.  They took turns feeding each other until he could bare it no longer.  He began licking her fingers, nibbling them as she laughed.  He kissed her then, while she was still laughing and released her before his passion grew too intense.

He stood and clicked his heels.  “Until tomorrow night, my Vor.” It took all his will power, but he left her still sitting on the bench.

She was late the next night and found him pacing.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I was packing for Thomas but he doesn’t understand why he has to go.  He kept taking his clothes out of the case.  I finally got him settled.”

“Why do you have separate beds?”

She stood before him and stared up at the sky.

“Delamair,” he stepped closer.  “Does he make love to you?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Never?” He leaned in.


“How can you bear it?  To never be touched.  To never know that special bond between man and wife?”

She shrugged.

“You knew it once.  Your child-“

She stepped back as if he had slapped her.

“I think your husband is either a pervert or a fool.  What kind of husband is he to ignore your needs?”

“What kind of husband are you, to want to make love to me?”

It was he who felt slapped.

“Good night, Colonel.”

He continued pacing after she walked away.

Excerpt from

The Island Remains

© Evelyn Rainey

Whiskey Creek Publishing

ISBN tba June 2014

Monday, September 8, 2014

Monday, September 1, 2014

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Well, as you can see, my incredible organizational skills have far outrun my follow-through skills. I have a spreadsheet that shows me what I want on this blog and I fill it out once every 6 months with the intent to go back into the dashboard and fill out the missing bits.

With the cancer surgeries and the change in teaching position/responsibilities and need to change locations for Writers for All Seasons and the springing forth of Denouement Literary Agency and all the speaking engagements and paperwork and meetings that that has joyfully entailed, I have neglected this blog.

I plan to rectify that soon.

I had a dream about my father last night. It was one of those significant dreams that one needs to pay heed to. He helped me see something I was doing was - if not "wrong" - was dangerous to my vision of how to follow my bliss.

So the time I spend will be spent on writing (personally, professionally and for my column at BellaOnline - which I have also shamefully neglected) and my agency (did I tell you I have taken on a partner -- Daniel LeBeouf?) and grabbing hold of the robotics course I'm teaching and my family - definitely need to spend more quality time with my family. 

At the strong suggestion of my newest publisher - Start-Media - I've started a fanpage on Facebook and author page on Amazon and Goodreads. I will also be creating a fan page for Denouement Literary on Facebook.

I have a speaking engagement slash book signing event this Wednesday evening at Sebring with the Florida Writers Association there. 

I'm a guest author at CreativeCom Saturday Sept. 13, 2014 up in Panama City, FL

Necronomicon is in October.

So my dad was right -  need to make some changes - actually, just one.

Type at you later!

Monday, August 25, 2014