October Sales and New Releases

October 2015 is huge for Chesley Books, so I figured I'd better get everything in one post so my readers can easily access all the fun.

First of all, GHOST BRIDE, my perma-free micro story is--as always--free for public consumption. You can find it on AMAZON, SMASHWORDS, and other various formats. It does very well in iBooks (iTunes) where it has 118 reviews. That number kind of thrills me.


 Second, as I posted earlier this month, Lizzie Lilac and the Left Socks is available for your KINDLE! This is my cancer charity project, so it's a bit more expensive than my other books, but that's because the royalties go straight to fund cancer research and take care of cancer patients.

Lizzie is, of course, also available in PRINT.

Where do missing socks go? Little Lizzie Lilac is determined to find out!

Next is a project near and dear to me as well.

Reflections of Reality: The Poetry of Cheri Chesley

 Yes, you read that right. I published a poetry book. Today. I wanted to do something special for my mom's October birthday, so I published my book of poems--that only she and I have previously had copies of. Now it's out in the world, and quite affordable.

Reflections is available in e-book and PRINT formats.

Lastly, I give you A Haunting Love in THREE formats!!

Since it's publication in November 2014, A Haunting Love has graduated from it's KINDLE origins--where you can pick it up for merely 99 cents.

It's now also available in PRINT.

AND (drumroll) in AUDIO BOOK format!

Enjoy my delightful narrator navigate through the fun Scottish accents of the people Alita encounters when she goes to Scotland for her wedding. Narrator Keith Michaelson really brings my characters to life!

Though I pulled the Amazon links for most of my works, please remember they are also available in Kobo, iBooks, and Nook. 

Happy Halloween, and happy reading/listening!

Christmas Poem

**I posted this last year, but it bears repeating. This is probably the best poem I've ever written.**

"Jesus Child"

The star shone high and bright,
in the sky above our heads.
We tried to tend our flocks,
but followed it instead.
How far it led us, we know not.
Nor do we really care.
For we'd have trod a thousand steps
to see who we saw there.
He was so small, this Son of God,
an infant child who lay
in a manger, with Mother dear
on a bed of hay.
His eyes, so bright, just like the star
that shone in Heaven above,
looked on us with approval
as we gazed at him in awe.
Others came, but we were first
this sweet child here to see.
And we knew then, deep in our hearts
our Savior he would be.

December 19, 1994

Poem

He Smiles No More

We have pictures on the wall of him,
his mouth always a smile.
Time passes, and when we look at him,
we see it has faded.
The pictures never tell the truth.
The smile, warm and loving, is never seen.
Now we see a child, a mere babe in years,
carrying the torture, pain, and tears
of someone older than us all.
The child, so loving and dear,
cries himself to sleep now.
When I look at the pictures on the wall
of him so young and innocent,
I think to myself,
"He smiles no more."
The pain he carries weighs him down.
How can we expect an angel to fly
when he carries all our burdens
on his wings?
Some say he'll outgrow it all,
and be a normal person.
They say sensitivity is weak.
In this world, today, I know it is,
but it's purer and better than anything.
We love him, yes,
but he smiles no more.
Help the child, Daddy!
He needs you!
Mommy please!
He cries out for you both,
as I plead.
Put aside your differences, and
help your commonality:
your son.

April 17, 1992

You thought I Forgot

Didn't you? Don't deny it. Yes, I can post about things other than e-books. :)

She Isn't Here

Knock, knock--was that someone at the door?
No, her little friends don't play here anymore.
So quiet, so still. No silence so lonely
as the silence of toys not playing
with their little girl.
I turn them on so I can hear
what it was like when she was with me.
I chide myself for all the times
I asked her to be quiet.
Her drawings, her books, her dolls...
I find them all around me.
The tape I have of her reading her first book--
the sounds that all surround me.
I want my baby back! My little girl,
when can you be with me?
Without you, it's like I'm sitting
all alone, in an empty field.



August 1, 1996

Another Poem

Jeffrey

It’s my pillow, but I don’t mind.
His drool will dry in no time.
He is my son, my little boy.
The one I thought might die.
He is so peaceful, in my bed;
his blanket tucked around his head.
His knees are up; his left toes curled.
He means more to me than all the Jeffreys in the world.
Though it is dark, in my mind’s eye
I see that scar that saved his life.
I know how lucky we have been.
No therapy or hospital stays for him.
I count the years that I have had
with Jeffrey by his twin brother’s side.
A Daniel without Jeffrey would not be whole.
I know this deep within my soul.
I love my boy, my miracle.
I thank God he is with me still.
I pick him up, his blanket, too.
He rests his head on me and sighs.
I carry him off to bed.
He is mine.

April 23, 2002

But This Is

"Jesus Child"

The star shone high and bright,
in the sky above our heads.
We tried to tend our flocks,
but followed it instead.
How far it led us, we know not.
Nor do we really care.
For we'd have trod a thousand steps
to see who we saw there.
He was so small, this Son of God,
an infant child who lay
in a manger, with Mother dear
on a bed of hay.
His eyes, so bright, just like the star
that shone in Heaven above,
looked on us with approval
as we gazed at him in awe.
Others came, but we were first
this sweet child here to see.
And we knew then, deep in our hearts
our Savior he would be.

December 19, 1994

Surprised, aren't you?

I bet some of you are pretty surprised to see me here, on my self proclaimed posting day, with a new post. I've been so inconsistent I know people have lost faith in my ability to maintain a steady schedule. I know I did. But, here I am!

First, I want to remind everyone of my contest. It's still going on. You have until NOVEMBER 16TH to leave a comment with your suggestion my new blog name. The prize is a copy of my book, THE PEASANT QUEEN--which went to press yesterday. Woohoo!!

Remember to please keep your suggestions clean. I've had a few already--one's a little too long (but sweet, Amie--thank you!), but I think we're going in the right direction. I want to make this a real contest, so don't be shy. Suggest away!

And now, for another poem.

Untitled

A child alone, a child lost.
In this world tempest tossed.
The tears flowed free, just like a brook
as down the mountain paths it took.
Her smiles were fewer, as tears took hold.
She never really was too bold.
Once in the darkness life had wrought
she saw more pain the more she fought.
And so her struggles began to wane;
she thought them all to be in vain.
She sobbed alone, upon a stone.
If only the poor child had known.
That all the times that she had cried.
It was the Lord who wiped her eyes.


January 22, 1995

You know, I did originally leave this one untitled, but right now, I'm thinking it should be Tempest. What do you think?

More Poetry, and 2 Announcements!

Happy Tuesday! As we careen through October, I thought we'd have a little fun. But, since I don't want my fun to get mixed up with Halloween fun, I'm extending it into November.

So, how about a fun contest? My author blog needs a cool name. An incredibly brilliant author friend of mine suggested "Author Blog" might be a bit boring, but I literally had NOTHING--so I just put up my name. Equally boring.

I'm opening up the floor to suggestions. But, remember, keep it clean. I am a wife, mother, blogger and author of young adult romantic fantasy novels. I'd like to keep to this theme, particularly with emphasis on the writing--since this is my author blog (even if I want a better name for it).

How do you enter? Simple. Just leave a comment on my blog with your suggestions between NOW and NOVEMBER 16TH. On TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 23RD I will announce my choice.

And now you're wondering what you could win, aren't you? How about a free, personalized, autographed copy of my debut novel THE PEASANT QUEEN? That's what's up for grabs. So get brainstorming, my friends!

Now for my second announcement. Except for the odd book review, I will be posting on this blog every Tuesday of the week. Here's what you can look forward to in the near future: my personal poetry, tidbits from my writing journey, updates on my book's release and the odd, inspirational thing that may hit me.

And now for another poem: Happy reading!

PLAYTIME

Oh, if only I could stay,
and watch my child as she plays.
To be a fly upon her wall
seeing her; nothing else at all.
For I know that soon will come
the day when all her playing's done.
But now, in my room so quiet,
I listen to her joyful riot.
Not to intrude, or ruin her fun.
My time is when her playing's done.
My heart, though, would be full today,
if I could watch her as she plays.



January 13, 1996

"The Secret Place"

Far away from town,
clear of all the roads.
Lies the secret place
that only I know.
In the middle of a field
under the lonely tree
stands a bench for all to see.
But only I can see it
for it lies in my mind,
this single, secret place
that only I can find.
It's where I go when life
heaps too much onto me.
I sit there, in my secret place,
or climb right up the tree.
I hope we all can find
our separate, secret place.
So this, our cold, cruel world
we can learn to face.

November 7, 1994