A Heart Made of Tissue Paper

      I am currently working on an original book of poetry titled A Heart Made of Tissue Paper.  This book got its start a couple years back when I put together a few poems I had written to express personal feelings regarding trials that distressed me at the time. Since then, I have added to my developing book and now have a nice collection of poems. I decided early on to divide the book into seven separate chapters, each  bearing the title of an emotion or feeling that human hearts endure in a lifetime, experiences that strongly affect soft hearts. 

     Of course the first chapter covers the passion, warmth, and uncertainties of love. I believe the majority of poems written throughout the ages (no, not all) attempt to convey what it means to love. The opposite sentiment, to loathe, has its own chapter in the book as well because we must experience opposites to understand what we feel.

     Look for A Heart Made of Tissue Paper on Amazon in kindle, paperback, and hardcover formats sometime this summer, 2023. For now, I would like to share a few poems from the book; something to wet your appetite. I hope you enjoy them.

"It seems

my heart is made of tissue paper;

I wish the world would handle it more delicately." 

        - Richelle E. Goodrich

“I am falling in love with you,
but I can’t say a word.

You don’t care for love.
It has bruised you, broken you, burned you.
You call it a curse. Yet, I fear I am captive of this enemy, love.

You warn of its destructive power.
Oh, but it warms me like none other! It engulfs me in caressing flames, and foolishly I crave more. I can’t bear to suffer the cold, so I let you feed the fire unwittingly.

I am falling in love with you.
I am in love with you,
and it’s getting worse.”  - Richelle E. Goodrich

“I want to hear her laugh.

 

To watch sunbeams awaken her visage and shine through her eyes. To see the gray clouds of regret that hang heavy over her head rain away to nothing.

I want to hear her sunny voice dance on the breeze, as light and free as glossy bubbles, floating up…up…up to pop like hiccups. I want to know the type and form of key I must cut to unshackle even a portion of her joy.

If I could pluck the winning feather; if my smile could convince; if I could stroke her vocal chords like harp strings and make each treble note ascend to euphoria. Oh, to hear the giggled melody she would release into a world craving the balm of mirth!
I ache to experience that. I am desperate for it.

I live for the day I hear her laugh.” - Richelle E. Goodrich

“I found a room, both quiet and slow,

a room where the walls are thick.

Where pixie dust is kept in jars,

and paper rockets soar to Mars,

and battles leave no lasting scars

as clocks forget to tick.

I guard this room, both small and bare,

this room in which stories live.

Where Peter Pan and Alice play,

and Sinbad sails at dawn of day,

and wolves cry 'boy' to get their way

when ogres won’t forgive.

With you I’ll share my hiding place,

this room under cloak and spell.

We’ll snuggle up inside a nook,

and read a venturous story book,

that makes us question in a look

what nonsense fairies tell.

In fictive plots and fabled ends,

Our happy-e’er-afters dwell!”

 -Richelle E. Goodrich

“Love by the sweat of thy brow.
Not through whispered words of hollow sound or lofty dreams ne’er substance bound that more than oft do run aground. Nay, love with mighty, blistered hands that turn the soil and carve the land. A bearer of toil and golden band.
Be strong! A founder of the feast!
Protective knight who slays the beast!
For promises and vows aloud are naught but wispy veneer shroud like cobwebs, frail, the airy words and wooing fail. So work, my darling. Toil as proof. Thy loyal heart be drained of youth and yet beat on, incessant sound. Both feet take root within the ground, and service be thy kingly crown.
Love by the sweat of thy brow.” - Richelle E. Goodrich

“Hush, hush.

Hear the earth breathe.

Watch the wildflowers bloom.

Feel the calm of the silent dawn.

Be still.”

-Richelle E. Goodrich

“A thousand times over with you,

I yearned to linger in a perfect moment

and stop the passing of time.

A thousand times over with you,

I caught your tender smile and tucked it

carefully away in my heart for safekeeping.

A thousand times over with you,

I took in your sunny gaze and

hoarded its light for the wintry season.

A thousand times over with you,

I heard your laughter and sat silent

as it vibrated like music in my soul.

A thousand times over with you,

I saw your eyes twinkle like stars,

and I made a wish for forever.

A thousand times over with you,

I noted wisdom in your years,

and I filed away your thoughtful words.

A thousand times over with you,

I felt the warmth of your hand in mine

and squeezed tight, reluctant to let go.

A thousand times over with you,

I pondered how quickly mortality ushers us

from sunrise to sunset, and I dreaded the night.

A thousand times over with you,

I embraced the promise of immortality,

dreaming of a day when perfect moments

linger pleasantly on and on and on

a thousand times over with you.” 

-Richelle E. Goodrich

Copyright 2020 Richelle E. Goodrich 

This Easter Sunday

Easter is a Christian holiday that commemorates the wondrous resurrection of Jesus Christ as well as His intimate suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane for the individual sins of humanity. The story of Jesus Christ’s life, His teachings, afflictions, death, and miraculous resurrection are found in the New Testament books of the Bible. People around the world who keep this holiday do so in differing ways. For some, it is a public celebration; for others it is a private, family occasion. In my home growing up, it was a little bit of both.

As a child, my siblings and I looked forward to Easter mornings. We rose early to hunt for a personal Easter basket that was usually well hid, making it an exciting game of basket seeking. If one of us stumbled across someone else’s basket, the trick was to act as if nothing at all had been spied, not letting on with any sort of twinkle in the eye that a basket was hidden under the kitchen table. In the end, we were all rewarded with a colorful basket full of sweets: jellybeans, candied eggs, chocolate bunnies, and the like.

On most Easters, a few days beforehand, Mom boiled a pot of eggs for us. We decorated the shells in vibrant colors; my favorite were the pink ones. Sometimes the decorating kits included glitter that made the eggs sparkle. Other times there were Easter stickers we adhered to the shells... and to other things in the house. Our pretty, hardboiled eggs were always put on display for a couple of days before Mom turned them into egg salad or deviled eggs or simply had us eat them whole with some salt and pepper.

Every now and then we participated in an actual egg hunt, but that did not become a regular Easter activity until my siblings and I became adults and brought grandchildren to our parents’ home. That was when the plastic eggs were purchased and filled, then hidden all over Grandpa and Grandma’s backyard—hundreds of them! And usually about two dozen of those eggs included gifts of cash! Those were fun egg hunts when our children were young, the cousins searching Grandpa’s boat and Grandma’s garden for every last egg.

Every Sunday meant dressing up and going to church; Easter Sunday was no exception. The service centered on the atonement and resurrection of Jesus Christ and what that meant for us. We were taught at church and at home that Christ is our Savior. That his suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane was to atone for our sins in order that, by the grace of God, we can repent and receive divine forgiveness. The resurrection of Jesus Christ, after his body lay dead for three days in a sealed tomb, was a miraculous triumph over death. A triumph that Christ gives freely and indiscriminately to the world. Our eventual resurrection is a gift we could never obtain on our own. John 11:25 – “Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:”

Today, my family is grown and moved out to shape their own lives along with holiday traditions that will most likely mingle the “old” with some “new.” My husband and I continue to celebrate Easter by attending church services in Sunday dress, followed by a special dinner at home. We treat ourselves to chocolate eggs and jellybeans too. And I admit: I still send a sweet-filled Easter basket to each one of my boys. They may grow old, but my heart will always recognize my boys as my cherished babes. I am grateful that they have been taught that Jesus Christ is their Savior and Redeemer, that they know to whom to turn for a remission of sins as well as hope for eternal life. Easter is a beloved holiday for those who understand the immense value of Jesus Christ’s atonement. 

Whatever your traditions may be—egg hunts, candy-filled baskets, special dinners, Sunday sermons, family gathers, etc.—I hope you are able to enjoy this coming Easter Sunday. May the reason for its celebration find a place in your heart and understanding.

–Richelle E. Goodrich

My Wonderful Friends

       I am certain a person can traverse through life with as little social interaction as possible. Believe me as an introvert, this isn't an entirely frightening or unappealing notion. In truth, I find my own company to be rather pleasant and sometimes preferable. Don't think I am entirely a hermit; I do have a social life that most often involves my dearest, closest friends.

       I have never been one to boast an overabundance of friendships. My personal preference is a small group of hand-picked individuals whom I trust and love--friends in whose company I feel relaxed, safe, and appreciated. Though they may be few, they are treasured by me because of their loyalty and goodness... and probably because they have some of my own character quirks.

       I love my friends. They are the posts on which I lean when life throws me harsh trials. They are my confidants when I need a listening ear. They are my cheering section when I need a little more confidence. They are my partners in laughter and fun. They are the trustworthy people on whom I rely. Yes, I do value alone time for moments of self-reflection and to focus on creative endeavors, but when I need a friend, few put a smile on my face or warmth in my heart like those dearest and closest to me. Thank you, my wonderful friends.

My Newest Book Release and What I am Working on Now

 

“Vengeance would have us assault an enemy's pride to beat him down. But vengeance hides a dangerous truth, for a humbled foe gains patience, courage, strength, and greater determination.”

― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse




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RELEASED: The Tarishe Curse
     It took twelve years in the making, but my newest book, The Tarishe Curse is finally complete and up for sale on Amazon. What started out as an attempt to entertain a friend with a short story for Hallows Eve turned into yearly chapter-additions that eventually amounted to one thrilling novel-length tale. Chapter one of the book is the original short story, which was written back in October of 2012. I gave that story to my friend, Cathie Duvall (a huge fan of Halloween) and she quickly read it. Then she asked an unexpected question: "What happens next?"
     Uh... well... I honestly had no plans for the tale to continue. But Cathie made a few suggestions that sparked my interest, and on that day a new tradition was born. Every Halloween from 2012 to 2018, I posted new installments of The Tarishe Curse online for anyone to read. It was a fun exercise for me because my normal writing process is to plan out a book from beginning to end. If I do not like the ending, I will not write the book. This tale, however, had no sure ending in sight. I simply dreamt up a new chapter to attach to the evolving tale every year, usually around September. Then, I posted the new installment near Halloween.
     It was in 2019 that I realized the story had grown into a novel-length manuscript in need of a good ending. That was the real challenge: wrapping up all the plot twists and character plights so I could thread every part of the tale into one culminating finale. Oh, it was a creative test to bring it altogether when I honestly had no idea what the ending would be. Normally, I am certain of the final chapters before I choose to write a story, so this make-it-up-as-you-go style was uncomfortable for me, to say the least. But I did it! And I am well-pleased with Duvalla's fate.
     Where can you get a copy of the book? Great question! Right now, The Tarishe Curse is available in kindle, paperback, and hardcover formats on Amazon. I hope you get a chance to read and enjoy my thrilling tale, and if you do... please, leave a positive rating and a short review on Amazon and Goodreads. It truly does help sell more copies. Thank you so much!





The Tarishe Curse is available in kindle, paperback, and hardcover formats on Amazon.com.

SUMMARY: A thrilling piece of fiction from the Queen of Werefolk’s point of view. It is difficult enough for Duvalla and Kresh to protect their young family in a world of Hallows Eve creatures, but this feat proves near impossible when an old witch bent on vengeance against the werewolves casts a Tarishe curse that manipulates both heart and mind. The battle is not only with a sword but an internal struggle—a fight to love the ones that Duvalla has sworn under a spell to hate, and to hate the one who through evil enchantment manipulates her heart.

What am I working on now? With my latest book,  The Tarishe Curse,  finished and available for readers, I am now  spending my time writing additional poetry to include in a book of original poems. The working title for this book is  A Heart Made of Tissue Paper. Expect a publication date of August 13th, 2023. That's my goal!      Following is a poem from that upcoming book:

EMERITUS   To rise up at dawn or to slumber ‘til noon, with nowhere to be, none too late, none too soon.   To laze like a cat in the shade of a tree, with naught on my list but a nap after tea.   To soak up the sun on a summery day, with nothing to do besides fish in the bay.   To stew in the bath among bubbles of silk, with never a care but to sip on warm milk.   To sleep when I choose on a feathery bed, with naught on my mind, only dreams in my head.   To share days gone by in repeated old tales, that few stop to hear but the dolphins and whales.                                        —Copyright 2023 Richelle E. Goodrich

A Little Comfort

    Losing a loved one is painful. I am certain that those who have experienced this kind of loss feel a pang in their hearts at the mere mention of it. Grief—that aching bruise—never heals. It may improve over time, or perhaps, one just grows numb to it. 

     I recently said goodbye to my father.

     Dad was 81 years old. He died while in the hospital. There were numerous contributing factors, but Covid was the culprit that first got him admitted to a room on the top floor of med-surg. He remained a bedridden patient for two-and-a-half months after his recovery from Covid, mainly due to diminished strength and the need for antibiotics to fight an internal infection. Diabetes and dementia complicated his health issues. 

     We were lucky to celebrate Dad's 81st birthday with him in the hospital, blessed that day to find him in good spirits and mentally aware. We brought him his favorite carrot cake, read messages from his birthday cards, and presented him with a music box that played his favorite classic country songs. The opportunity to see him celebrate this birthday was a gift to us. Dad passed away in his sleep two weeks later.

     I know that even in heartbreaking situations there are blessings to be recognized and appreciated. One of my dearest blessings is my husband—a kind, compassionate, and gentle man who concerns himself with my feelings. He did not disappoint on the day my mom phoned to deliver the news that Dad had passed through the veil into Heaven. 

     We were away from home when the call came. Shortly afterwards, we found ourselves inside a large Buc-ee's gas station. There were snacks, drinks, sandwiches, souvenirs, clothing, and a variety of other items to purchase inside. While I was looking for something to drink, my sweet husband wandered off and then returned with a small, stuffed teddy bear in his arms. It was called a Gifting Bear, and it had one ear sewn from a different material than the rest of its furry body. This corduroy ear was unique for a reason specified in the instructions that came with the bear. 

"Whenever you need a little comfort, a little safe, a little brave, just whisper in my ear and hold me tight. I'll be here for you."

     

     A week plus has passed since my dad's funeral. It was such a turbulent day, I found it impossible to grieve. Following the funeral, days were spent accepting visitors, seeing family off to the airport, filling out necessary paperwork, getting finances in order, etc. It was not until my recent return home that I found a few quiet hours alone and sat down to fully comprehend the realness of my dad's passing.

     That soft, furry teddy bear was in the room with me and had already become a symbol of my dad. So, I took it in my arms and spoke into its little corduroy ear, and with tears, I whispered everything I wanted to say to my father. I felt the shawl of grief that had been denied me at the funeral, but I also felt the most tender reassurance that my words were heard and appreciated. 

     Someday, I too will pass through the veil and step into Heaven to be reunited with my dad again, along with other loving family members who preceded me in death. Until then, my little Gifting Bear sits on my writing desk and allows me to whisper to him whenever I need comfort or safe or brave. That is exactly what my dad used to give me on bad days. I miss him.

Love and Sorrow in the Same Hour

      My family and I are dealing with the recent hospitalization of my father, which turned into a search for long-term care. He is a Vietnam Veteran with a purple heart, but finding a place for his care is turning out to be extraordinarily difficult. My father suffers from dementia as well as a number of physical health problems that keep him bedridden. The doctors recently suggested we consider hospice. 

     It is crazy how through all of this I have found my emotions fluctuating like a yo-yo, shattering at some bit of painful news and then swelling with love and appreciation in the same hour. Such has been the case for a few weeks now. It seems to me that the human heart was made both to break and to mend in order for humanity to effectively experience a vast range of emotions. We feel both pains and pleasures, developing in the process a true capacity for empathy. I love my dad while at the same time I feel deep sadness for his present circumstances. 

     Life gives us joy, and it gives us misery. It does so for everyone. And thank heaven, for it is what makes us human.

                                                

Glancing Back, Looking Forward to 2023

 A Decade of Change: Me in 2012 and again in 2022

        At the beginning of a new year, it is traditional to take a good, long look over my shoulder at things I both accomplished and survived in prior years. As I have stated in the past, I prefer to shine a spotlight on my books rather than on my personal life, but 2022 has been one event-filled year for me, so I don't mind sharing a few of the bigger moments. 

        My eldest son graduated in June with a Masters of Science in Software Engineering. Big accomplishment! My middle son was accepted into the mechanical engineering major program at his university. He is working hard to pass those difficult classes. My youngest son returned to school to pursue his degree. He is close to finishing. He also proposed to his girlfriend (now fiancée) on the steps of the Nashville Parthenon. How exciting! My father, unfortunately, suffered some health problems this past year including a case of Covid. He has since healed and is regaining his strength with the aid of physical therapy. 

        The biggest change in 2022 was my own. After three years of dating a wonderful man, I married him in August. My new husband is a kind, gentle, supportive, noble, fun-loving person who enjoys reading. Ours was a long-distance relationship (never an easy way to date) but he won me over by reading books to me over the phone. Not only does he read aloud, he does voices! Yes, I fell for a storyteller. Before the wedding, I spent two months packing up my house, then sold it, and finally moved across the country to live in a new city that has proven to be quite friendly. It certainly has been a year of big personal change and positive growth. 

         What about my writing goals? It is hard to believe a decade has gone by since I published my first book, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue. I love that story. It recounts the adventures of a young girl destined to rule a strange but fascinating nation. It was my debut novel as well as a unique learning opportunity. Since then, I have gained a great deal of knowledge about the writing process, and I have grown markedly as a novelist and poet.

         What began as a challenge to compose a single book became the catalyst for an unanticipated love of storytelling. Eena, The Dawn and Rescue was quickly followed by a second book that continued along the same storyline. Then came book three, followed by yet another. It still amazes me how I was able to write an entire six-book saga within a four-year period! Absolutely not my initial goal!

         After completing the Harrowbethian Saga, I branched out to try my hand at comprising original quotes, thoughts, and poetry for every day of the year. Smile Anyway was the result, and it turned out to be a bigger success than expected. The shocking surprise was finding my book quotes reprinted in news articles as well as in various other books. And not just a few! It has been a thrill to see my quotes scroll by on websites, reprinted in an Oxford Philosophy: Being Human course book and in seven different Chicken Soup for the Soul books, and even shared on a tv episode of Alone. What a treat! 

         With the success of Smile Anyway, I went on to write three additional quote/poetry/short-story books for my sons as high school graduation gifts: Making Wishes, Slaying Dragons, and Being Bold. Part of the gift included 50% of the royalties from the sale of every book. Not a bad way to help out struggling college students.

         As much as I love fantasy and science fiction, I have always admired the great novelists, my personal favorite being Victor Hugo. It stood to reason that I would challenge myself to write a stand-alone novel with both dramatic and tragic elements. Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher was the result of this endeavor. Composing Annabelle's story caused me many tearful moments; her story was not easy to tell. I doubt it can be read with a dry eye or a callous heart. The book was designed to stir up feelings of shock, anger, and dismay for the cruel and unjust situations so often overlooked in society. Writing Dandelions was an emotional trial as much as it was a writing challenge, which is why I wrote a lighthearted tale to accompany the novel. Secrets of a Noble Key Keeper is a short, fun fairy tale all ages will enjoy.

         Last year, I published my thirteenth book, entirely unique from my previous writings. The Tarishe Curse was originally meant to be a simple short story for a friend who loves All Hallows Eve. But as my friend asked questions about what happens next, I was obliged to come up with a new chapter every Halloween. After so many years of adding chapters, one by one, it became apparent that a book was ready and waiting to be completed. The hardest part was devising an ending that wrapped up the whole crazy ordeal! It took some creativity, but it gave me an idea for a backstory about one formidable character in the book. Something to look forward to in the future!

         Another thing I like to do every New Years is compare my starting numbers on social media with any growth. It motivates me to see improvement. Be it slow or small, progress is progress! Increases in followers, book sales, ratings & reviews, internet posts, and/or loyal readers is forward movement toward my goals.  

THEN	NOW
Ten years ago, 8 people considered my writing inspiring enough to call themselves a fan or follower on Goodreads.	Today, 250 people now follow me on Goodreads. Thank you!
Ten years ago, 40 people liked my most popular book quote on Goodreads out of thirty quotes posted at the time.	Today, my most popular quote on Goodreads has 409 likes out of the 1,678 original quotes posted. Wow! I guess I have a lot to say.
Ten years ago, I started with 3 Twitter followers.	Today, I have 2,295. Thank you too!
Six years ago, my author website had 13,552 visits.	Today, my author website has had 27,232 visits (and counting.) Nice!
Six years ago, 441 people followed my Facebook author page.	Today, 921 people follow my Facebook author page.
Six years ago, 397 followed my Instagram.	Today, 596 follow my Instagram page.
Six years ago, 41 followed me on Tumblr.	Today, 124 follow me on Tumbler. Slow and steady progress.

 

     As I have said many times, I am indeed grateful for my readers and supporters. Thank you for purchasing my books. Thank you for leaving kind reviews on Amazon, Goodreads, and other websites where my books are sold; it helps more than you know. Thank you for telling friends and acquaintances about my written works. I am grateful to live in a day and place where I have the privilege of educational opportunities, writing opportunities, and self-publishing opportunities. What a magnificent blessing! No matter how slow or fast the progress, I am accomplishing my goals, and that makes me happy.

Happy New Year 2023! 

I am looking forward to greater accomplishments.

Oh, and if you feel so inclined, follow me on my social sites:

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/RichelleEGoodrich/

Twitter - https://twitter.com/REGoodrich

Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/richellegoodrich/

Author Website – https://www.richellegoodrich.com

Author Blog - https://regoodrichnews.blogspot.com/

LibraryThing - https://www.librarything.com/profile/REGoodrich

Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/regoodrich/

LinkedIn - https://www.linkedin.com/in/regoodrich/

Tumblr - https://richellegoodrich.tumblr.com/

Goodreads Profile -https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5082833.Richelle_E_Goodrich

Amazon Author Page - https://www.amazon.com/Richelle-E.-Goodrich/e/B008A6A5W4/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vu00_tkin_p1_i9

The Tarishe Curse Book Promo

Available NOW at Amazon.com in KINDLE, PAPERBACK, and HARDCOVER formats.

SUMMARY: A thrilling piece of fiction from the Queen of Werefolk's point of view. It is difficult enough for Duvalla and Kresh to protect their young family in a world of Hallows Eve creatures, but this feat proves near impossible when an old witch bent on vengeance against the werewolves casts a Tarishe curse that manipulates both heart and mind. The battle is not only with a sword but an internal struggle—a fight to love the ones that Duvalla has sworn under a spell to hate, and to hate the one who through evil enchantment manipulates her heart.

Cover Reveal for The Tarishe Curse

        This Halloween, look forward to werewolves, witches, warlocks, and other Hallows Eve creatures in my new book, The Tarishe Curse. This thrilling tale is set to be released on October 31st, 2022 only on Amazon.com. Learn about the Tarishe curse from the Queen of Werefolk's point of view. Follow her as she desperately seeks any means to undo the curse contrived by an old, malevolent witch. But before you get your hands on the book, be one of the first to enjoy this cover reveal!

       Did you know that the beginning chapter in The Tarishe Curse was originally written in 2012 as a short story? I wrote it for my friend, Cathie (Duvall) Hunt, who possesses a seriously spooky love for Halloween. I thought it would be fun to incorporate some Hallows Eve creatures into a haunting story as a treat for her. Fact: the first chapter of The Tarishe Curse is still that original short story in its completion. When Cathie asked me "What happens next?" I was stunned at first. No additional storyline existed in my mind; it wasn't meant to be a longer tale. But after some thought, I determined to write a new chapter every Halloween and post it online for readers to enjoy. Over the next few years posting annual chapters, the original eventually developed into something substantial. And now, eleven years later on this very Halloween 2022, The Tarishe Curse comes to an end in the form of a 300+ pages book available in paperback, hardcover, and e-book for kindle. 

Now... what about the cover? Glad you asked.

A little about the creation of this cover: Yes, I do my own artwork, and though I am certainly not a professional artist, I enjoy creating my book covers. As far as I'm concerned, writing books trumps cover art, but I do keep full control over the entire book this way. For The Tarishe Curse cover, I wanted specific details to be included. First and foremost, a full Tarishe moon. This red moon is a bewitching natural phenomenon in my fictional world mentioned early on in the book. Surrounding the village of Tarishe is a forest of thin aspen trees; this I also wanted on the cover, including an aura of dreary darkness. I think I nailed the ambiance.

For me, it didn't seem quite enough to have atmosphere only depicted on the cover, though it did an effective job of setting the mood for my book. But it felt... empty. What I wanted was to introduce the main character here with her ominous silver sword. I kept her features hidden on purpose, leaving her face as mysterious as her conflicting identity. Yes, you'll have to read the book to understand that reference. 

After adding her as a focus under the light of the Tarishe moon, I was pleased. So, without further delay... here is the final cover of The Tarishe Curse. Look for it on Amazon.com

Richelle E. Goodrich Copyright 2022

10 Things You Want to Know About The Tarishe Curse

The Tarishe Curse, written by Richelle E. Goodrich, began as a short story back in 2012. Chapters were added each Halloween until it eventually became a novel-length book. To prepare you for meeting the Hallows Eve creatures in this thrilling tale, here are ten things you want to know about The Tarishe Curse:

1. This book started out as a short story for a friend of the author who absolutely loves Halloween. The first chapter was originally meant to be the entirety of The Tarishe Curse.

2. The character, Catherine, was named after the author's friend to whom the book is dedicated.

3. The character, Duvalla, is also named after the same friend. Duvall was her maiden name.

4. Circumstances in the story are never exactly what they seem. Remember that.

5. Catherine the Huntress wields a terrible silver sword that drives fear into the hearts of werewolves.

6. There are vampires involved in the story too. Begrudgingly involved.

7. A full Tarishe Moon comes but once a year, as red as blood in color.

8. No curse can persist while a full Tarishe moon glows in the night sky.

9. Yes, there is a haunted mansion.

10. One character will survive this Hallows Eve tale to become the main character in a future book by Richelle E. Goodrich, already in its planning stages. It is not who you think.

You might enjoy other books by this author. Find them all on Amazon.com in paperback, kindle, and hardcover formats. Happy reading!

Books by Richelle E. Goodrich

Happy Father's Day

Dad, Richelle, Mom

     Over the years I've learned many things from my father. He has been there for me and my boys throughout our lives. I am grateful for his hard work, his generosity, and some lessons learned. Here are probably the top ten things I learned from him, last to first:

10. Coats belong in the closet. Salt and pepper belong on the table.
9. Everything should be celebrated afterwards with ice cream.
8. You don't pick the winning team in football based on their jersey colors.
7. YES, you can do anything, but NO, you're not better than anyone else.
6. Parents don't flap their jaws just to hear themselves talk.
5. John Wayne is king, ruler, chief, icon, superhero, and the last real man to have set foot on this earth.
4. The world is full of opinions; yours is the one that matters most.
3. There are a lot of idiot boys my age.
2. If you can't look yourself in the eye standing in front of the mirror, you better fix the reason why.
1. No matter what—you are loved. (Unless, of course, the salt and pepper don't make it to the table.)

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!!

Good Days, Good People, Good Deeds

   I was standing in line at the post office a few days ago with a package I had procrastinated mailing. It was filled with candy bars and board games for my son who now lives a couple states away. Six people were ahead of me in the line that passed through the open side of a set of glass doors. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw more individuals joining the line at my back.

   Only two postal employees stood behind the counter that afternoon, so I knew the wait would be a bit long. A trip to the post office is always a gamble: sometimes it’s a quick in-and-out visit, other times you pay your dues in tendered time.

   Not in a real hurry, I began observing those around me. People-watching has always been my fascination; I find human nature intriguing. As I stood there waiting for the line to move forward, it occurred to me that everyone kept quietly to themselves. The only real conversations were those between the two postal workers and the individuals being helped. I had to smile at the realization that despite the long line, calm and patience set the tone.

   One woman who had taken up five minutes at the counter turned and apologized to everyone, aware of so many of us waiting. It was a courteous thing to do, and I again observed no show of annoyance in anyone’s demeanor. No grumbles, groans, or toe tapping. Such kindness made me smile.

   My attention then jumped to an elderly lady, also at the front counter, who was picking up a package. Her expression was one of surprise when she discovered the size of the box—about half her height in length and width—yet she refused every offer of assistance from the attendant.

   “Oh thank you, but I think I can manage. My car is right outside.”

   When she turned to leave, hefting that big box, it was evident she would not be able to squeeze through the one open double-door, so I stepped out of line to hold the second door open for her. The dear lady took about three steps forward before she put the package down, apparently reconsidering her need for assistance. Just then, a young man stepped out of line and asked to carry the box for her, giving the elderly lady a reason to sigh a sound of relief.

   We all watched the young man lift the box with ease and carry it through the double doors. Someone else further down the line held the main door open for him so he could step outside. We stared out the picture window as he crossed the street to reach the woman’s car where he carefully fit the box into her trunk. It was a sweet scene when she gave him an earnest show of thanks.

   I returned to my place in line. The young man also returned to his place in line—no objections from anyone.

   Why do I mention these simple acts of service that took place during a few minutes at the local post office? Because they happen every day all around us. The patience. The smiles. The acknowledgements. The opened doors. The helping hands. The gratitude. These humble services are the most precious treasures we give to one another, and they are daily occurrences among us. I fear, though, we have learned to overlook these quiet blessings, instead taking note of things loud, obnoxious, and harsh. Why concentrate on the negative when there is so much positive at work everywhere? Open your eyes and notice it. Then pay the kindness forward.

   No matter how bleak or negative the media paints the world, there is still an abundance of good—good days, good people, and good deeds. Choose to see these simple acts of kindness. Be part of what still defines us as humanity.