Joyce Kilmer – Eileen Troemel

Carol Schoenig is another of the Mystic Desires authors from Black Velvet Seductions. She write contemporary romance.

Author Bio

Carol Schoenig the author of The Caretaker a story of finding love in your golden years and Love that Binds. A Short Story – Part of the ‘Mystic Desire’ Anthology with Black Velvet Seductions to be released October 1. Carol reads and writes Contemporary Romance, Aged to Perfection Romance and Romantic Suspense.

Carol has a Master’s Degree in Organizational Leadership and Development. She had started writing in her earlies twenties and gave up when she failed to win a contest. Once she retired from her professional human resources job, she began to seriously pursue her dreams of becoming a writer.

Carol celebrates over 50 years of marriage, has two sons and five grandchildren ranging in age from five to twenty-one. She loves reading, music, nature, and animals. Millie her golden doodle is always at her side.

She loves to read romance stories and is a Hallmark Junkie. My hobbies are sewing and reading as well as singing in her church choir.

Tell us about yourself.

Not much to tell. I have one novel published The Caretaker and a short story in the Mystic Desire Anthology. Married 51 years, two grown sons and five grandchildren. I like to read, write, sew, sing and have fun in between.

When did you know you wanted to be an author?

In grade school when we were required to read the poem,

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

— Joyce Kilmer

The imagery and beauty inspired me in a number of ways, first I love trees and second I wanted to write words that would inspire others and touch their hearts.

What genres do you like to read? Are these the same genres you write in?

I enjoy reading Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Suspense, once in a while Erotic Romance and Mysteries. I write Contemporary and Romantic Suspense. I could see myself writing mystery.

Is your book for adults, young adults or children?

Adults.

What is your current release or project?

Mystic Desire Anthology, I have a short story included Love that Binds. Early 2020 I’ll be ready to release Bought and Paid for Fiancé.

Tell us about the key characters.

Ianthee is a young girl, being chased and bullied by classmates. Ianthee is a quiet girl that loves nature.

Hauck is a sixteen-year-old boy, smart, handsome and athletic. Yet a bit of a loner and has a tender heart. He comes to Ianthee’s rescue when she falls in the mud.

Share an excerpt

Ianthee pulled the key from her pocket, picked up her bags, walked up the front steps and unlocked the door. As she slowly pushed it inward it squeaked. She heard scratching sounds and a few mice ran out the door. Well, at least there was someone living in the house. She made a mental note to get a cat.

Ianthee trailed her hand along the wall until she found the light switch and flipped it on. Dim bulbs in ancient fixtures came on illuminating the rooms with a dull glow. There were layers of cobwebs and mouse droppings everywhere. The broom leaned on the hearth the way it always had. Picking it up she swatted the cobwebs off the table and placed her bags on it. There was a chill in the cottage and a musty smell that made her shiver. Ianthee left the door open and used the broom to clear away more cobwebs around the hearth and into the kitchen.

As she went about her work, she could hear the taunts of the girls calling her ‘witch’. She’d sweep harder and faster working up a sweat. They would not win this time, she vowed to herself.

She went outside to find a few branches to build a fire in the fireplace. The cottage was inadequate, for now, but she would pull it together. The sun had almost dipped below the horizon, but she managed to get the fire going to heat a cauldron of water for washing up

In the meantime, she went upstairs and see if her bedroom could be slept in. Her room was to the right and the ‘forbidden room’ to the left. She turned and looked at the closed solid oak door. She heard her grandmother’s voice replaying in her head, “You’re not permitted in there. It’s where we mix the oil to give to those who need it. Some are delicate and strong. I’ll teach you when you’re older.” But she never had. They’d had to leave it all behind.

Ianthee tried the door, but it was locked. She ran to her bedroom and retrieved a long pin she used to collect leaves and things. She knelt down in front of the door and inserted the pin in the keyhole. She turned it one way and then the other until she heard a click.

Holding her breath, she carefully opened the forbidden room door. The door creaked as she pushed it back and with one foot in front of the other stepped into a room covered with dust and cobwebs. Measuring spoons, jars, and pipette on the table. The table and shelves heavy with dust. Bottles of flowers, herbs, and liquids were neatly placed. Cob webs hung in the corners of the room and she brushed away a cobweb hanging from the ceiling and made her way over to the table.

When she was young, her grandmother had taken her to the woods and gardens and told her about the different species of plants and flowers. She remembered how when she and Gram touched them; the plants seemed to come to alive in their hands.

On the table lay a leather journal with a ribbon sticking out at the end. It was Grandma’s magical book containing recipes that Grandma had used to heal people’s ailments. She remembered Grandma’s words about working in the soil. She’d said that the plants took our energy, grew, and then gave back life and healing. Curiosity about the magical book consumed her.

Ianthee hesitated to pick it up for fear that the pages would disintegrate. Instead, she let her fingers delicately caress the front of the book. The sensation of someone with her in the room gave her goosebumps as if granny herself was there.

She held the ribbon and eased the book open. The heat of excitement bubbled up within her. Grandma used to tell her stories of a special love potion. She had always believed it was fantasy and her grandmother teasing her about love but there was also professional curiosity.

Ianthee flipped through a few pages and read in awe. Mrs. Trotter’s bladder cancer showed signs of improvement after rubbing Frankincense on her stomach as well as the pressure points at the bottom of her feet twice a day. We also suggested she put 3 drops under her tongue. It tastes awful but does her good. There were more cases, documented in Grandma’s careful hand.