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Resuming Puzzling Love

Posted by doyourbest Mar 5, 2015

Good evening, everyone.


My name is Christopher Tenney, and last year in May 2014, I published my first work titled, Puzzling Love: Part I: Distant Meeting. It's a multi-part romance story about an Autistic college student named James Suoh, who has been struggling to cope with the death of his grandmother. One night, while browsing through online social media, he meets an older girl named Serena Cassidy, and within two short days, they instantly became boyfriend and girlfriend.


I concluded part one on a bit of a cliffhanger because I wanted to see if I can get my work recognized immediately. Unfortunately, I failed to realize that self-publishing and promotion comes at a financial cost; thus I was at a standstill for several months after I published Part I. As of this point, I managed to find a way to publish using limited finances, enabling myself to promote my work more effectively and efficiently.


As of this time, I am continuing Puzzling Love in hoping that it will become critically acclaimed. Part II is subtitled, "Responsibilities of Romance," and it will continue where Part I left off, in which James is enjoying his relationship with Serena, but he must also be responsible and accept new duties in order for his relationship to survive. What kind of duties, you ask? You will find out when Part II is released (I won't spoil anything!).


Part II will be released in late 2015. If you wish to purchase Part I: Distant Meeting, follow this link:


Thank you for your contributions, and please continue to support the Puzzling Love Series!



Christopher Tenney

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Posted by lud15agAIN Mar 3, 2015


               As  a  small(ish)  individual  5  foot  7" or  so on  a  good  day  I  have  come  up  againt  "heightism"  in  my  time  from  taller  people.  The  reverse  of  course  is also often  true .  Really  bad  tempered,  insecure  small  people  who  look  on  the  taller  guy  as  some  sort  of  challenge.  It`s  really  all  very  silly  and "small"  minded.  See  what  I  did  there?

                                         It  doesn`t  bother  me  one  bit  being  shorter  than  some  others.  What  really  does  bother  me  is  when  I  come  across  it  in  the  publishing  world.

                                Anyone  who  mixes  in  writing  circles  knows what  I  mean  by  that.  The  throwaway  disparaging  comment.  "He  -or  she-  only  "self  publishes"  you  know.  Or  "  so  you  only  write  SHORT  stories?  I  see..."  I  both  cases  the  guy-or  gal -who`s  talking  disparagingly  hasn`t  a  clue  what  they  are  wittering  on    about.

                        In  my  case  I  have  written  2  novels  and  7  short  story  collections  to  date.  All  self  published  Most  of  the  greatest  authors  started  by  writing  shorter  stories.  And  many  of  them  self  published  either  through  choice  or  necessity.  So  what  I`m  saying  is  it`s  very  important  to  remember  that  the  author  alone  decides  what  he`s  going  to  write  and  in  which  particular  genre  or  idiom.  Total  freedom.  And  only  self  publishing  provides  that  freedom.  The  reader  alone  decides  whether  your  efforts  are  worth  reading  or  not.  I  happen  to  love    both  the  fact    that  I  self  publish  my  work and  a  good  proportion  of  what  I  write  are  short  stories.  I  love  both  to  read  and  to  write  them  One  day  I  will  write  the  best  short  story  ever  written  by  anyone  anywhere.  And  the day after that   I`ll  waken  up  to  find  I`m  actually  6  foot  3  inches  tall.



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Here is the 4th and final book of the Holy Scripture New Testament series.


For CS Community.jpg



Here it is. The last book in THE HOLY SCRIPTURE NEW TESTAMENT BOOKS which the Lord asked me to do shortly after the year 2000. It has taken me some time but I got it accomplished. He even pulled some surprises for me on this. I had no idea He wanted it into a series of 4 books, in more detail of what the New Testament is all about. It has been my most unique experience serving Him this way.



For the printed version go here. On this page is all the books available to purchase printed versions. You can also find books 1-3 of this series:



NT 4.jpg



For an ebook find the series here:

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Now Available on Amazon at super low prices:  Smiles and Cries Evidence of Ambition Thoughts From The Author The Power of Poetry Exotic Expressions  Find Great Reads by Author Eric F. Williams on Amazon at super low prices right now at the following links: and #AuthorEFW #AmazonBooks #GreatReads #LowPrices

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Soul Ties

Posted by BrokenHeartedGirl Feb 21, 2015

Would anyone be interested in reading my preview for my first novel Soul Ties? The storyline revolves around heartbroken Aria Richards who discovers a past life in the 1920's in New Orleans. Her past starts to unravel after a past life regression through hypnosis. Aria starts to piece together the present day issues of an on again, off again relationship she has not been able to let go of. Bringing her to a higher level of consciousness Aria is now on a quest to find the true meaning of eternal life & love.


Twitter: @RihTweetMe

Tumblr: BlackJesusBarbie

Instagram: Black_Jesus_Barbie

43 Views 0 Comments Permalink Tags: authors, relationships, review, publishing, poetry, story, life, preview, fiction, love, spirituality, paranormal, dreams, magical, happen, brian, buddha, mystical, miracles, regression, past, weiss

Your boyfriend Is cheating on me


       Most girls would be offended , I on the other hand think it is sort of romantic. I know what you might be thinking, it is 2015.. who even emails anymore?

       Your boyfriend was so persistent, after receiving numerous explicit emails that almost seemed to be straight from a erotic romance novel. With his profuse amount of errors and vividly describing my body to the t, I knew he had written these himself and I eagerly wanted to read more. His words seemed flawless and I didn't want his sentences to end. Every paragraph seemed to get shorter and shorter. I started to read slower taking every one of his carefully, strategically chosen words in. As I was about to finish, his words had just stopped mid sentence. Almost burning a hole on my phone screen with my eyes, I then started to fill in the blanks with my own thoughts. Which were not nearly as captivating as I knew his would be. His mouth watering words seemed to float around in my head for the next couple of days. His writing was lucid and it was almost like his words were demanding to be felt. At least I wanted to be, after reading his emails for the 86th time. I re read them religiously hoping it would fight my urge to respond. I mistakenly thought I would eventually be exasperated and secretly hoped the lust in his words would die. How foolish of me, I had already fallen in love with every one of his words. In fact I craved them, something that seemed so innocent I wanted in the worst way possible. I could not help but think this was so much better, than any of the 50 shades of blue novels people were reading. This was real and I was the main character. I would like to think I have more will power, at the end of the day it seemed I had a copious amounts of reasons why I should not engage. Although in introspection, responding to an email seemed harmless. After the 86th time, I replied. In a click of a button I would lose all respect I so desperately wanted from him.

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My Brother: A Different Shade of Me is a story about two young boys growing up in rural Plaquemine Parish,  Louisiana in the 1850?s. Even though they grew up on opposing sides of  the fence, John (white) and Adam (slave), they grew up closer than  brothers. One night Adam was attacked by a group of ruffians. Knowing no  sheriff would be called and no sheriff would come. John Jr. enlisted  the aid of Adams three sisters Victoria, Elizabeth, and Rebecca to help  him find and punish the culprits. This is a story of love, friendship,  humor, betrayal, vengeance, and blind justice.


Available at

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conociendo a la poeta

Posted by odanamar Feb 13, 2015

I write poetry because?.because i like it, because poetry for me is freedom.

porque escribo poesias? porque me gusta,porque para mi la poesia es la libertad.

es la forma mas sensible en que una persona puede expresar sus sentimientos y sus emociones.

mis libros: lirios azules y delirio

kindle-  unlimited

edition spanish

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Could you give a billion dollars away and help other people's dreams come true.  Check out the preview to my upcoming book and offer feedback.  Post yours as well and I will check it out.




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Flyingsober Introduction

Posted by flyingsober Feb 4, 2015

I wake up freezing with my face just inches from the cracking paint of a ceiling.  As I reach down to grab the covers, of which I find there are none, my eye catches the first glimpse of orange. Like pumpkin orange, but even brighter.  My memory starts to come back, along with a horrible, pulsating headache.  The shaking starts, then the tears come.  I’ve done it again.  I’m in jail somewhere, and even with my foggy head and slow memory, I know it has something to do with alcohol.  I realize that I’m on the top bunk of a metal bunk bed.  Below me, someone is snoring quite loudly.  What time is it?  No watch on my arm.  The lights are flooding into the room, or now I know, the cell.  I can see my breath.  I’ve got to get out of here, I will freeze to death.  Well actually freezing was the least of my worries.  The room was about the size of my bathroom at home.  Oh, I just want to go home. I can vaguely remember my husband Todd, refusing to pick me up.  Did I call anyone else?  I can’t remember.  Lord, I need a blanket, or coffee, or both.  So getting back to the small room, uh, cell, it was small.  Yes I said that already, sorry.  Anyway, the bunk bed took up most of the space, and then there was a half wall with a toilet on the other side.  I vaguely also remember two drawers attached to the wall.  Drawers? Maybe there was a blanket, a sheet.  I would even take a t-shirt right now if I could find one.  I looked down over the side of my top bunk.  I can see a human form under some blankets.  Yes blankets.  As in two.  Well if I had a blanket I now know where it is.  Maybe I can just go down there, politely tap her and say “Excuse me for waking you, but could I please have one of your blankets?”  But first, I need to find the ladder, there has to be a ladder, right?  How do they expect for me to get down from here.  On second thought, how did I get up here?  Well I looked up one side and across the foot.  No ladder.  The other side was attached to the wall, so of course no ladder there.  How about the foot.  No ladder. Tears came even harder, and I realized I needed to go to the bathroom.  Well only one way down.  I would have to jump.  The thought of landing on that cold tile, or whatever it was floor, made me procrastinate until I had no choice.  I slid as far down the side of the bunk that I could and then dropped.  My ankles were on fire.  I hopped over to the facilities, and did my business.  I stood up to flush, and that’s when it happened.  A thundering voice from under the blankets yelled, “Don’t ever do that again!”  I think I just met my cell mate.  I can’t remember her name, or even if she gave it to me, but I do remember those first words to me.  I also remember not caring at all what she had to say.  How could anyone hurt me anymore than I had already hurt myself.

So just how did a Christian wife, mother, flight attendant, end up staring at the ceiling of a jail cell?  The answer, simply put, alcoholism. However as you will hear in my story, there is nothing simple about alcoholism.    The journey through alcoholic **** took me about 8 years to stagger through.  There were six rehab centers.  Jail stays, yes stays, as in more than one. A psychiatric facility.   One homeless shelter, and 2 half-way houses.  I stayed in the homes of 2 friends that I met in recovery and also  graced my parent’s home, back in New Mexico, for what I am sure was a long 30 days for them.  They didn’t  know how to help me, which was understandable, how  do you help a crazy person!    I was even taken into the home of a dear Pastor and his sweet wife down in San Antonio Texas.  I had a few come to Jesus moments, but still didn’t put down the drink.  It was only in desperation that I finally took steps which enabled me to surrender my will to Christ and begin another journey.  One of simply put, freedom, freedom from bondage.  The bondage of my own self will.  The will that kept me from being the person that God wanted me to be, the will that kept me from his plan for me.  The will that started the ball rolling, and plummeted me and my family into the nightmare of alcoholism.  This is my story.

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conociendo a la poeta

Posted by odanamar Feb 2, 2015

lo que me caracteriza  a mi poesia es la sutilidad que impregno en cada frase,el mensaje que quiero transmitir.Es muy importante para mi que el lector entienda el universo quue encierra cada poema,por tal razon la naturalidad en las palabras son esenciales en mis creaciones.porque de esta forma la poesia tiene vida propia.

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conociendo a la poeta

Posted by odanamar Jan 29, 2015

es muy importante para mi como poeta y escritora que conozcan mi trabajo, que se enamoren de lo que escribo y descubran la pasion con la que escribo cada verso. compartire con ustedes varios de mis poemas para que los lean, y aunque estos no hacen parte de los dos libros publicados,son poesias libres, asi es como yo las llamo y las cuales ustedes conoceran.

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luz en el camino

Posted by odanamar Jan 29, 2015

Destellos amarillos

sobrios como el pan y el vino

son los pasos de quien camina perdido

entre la luz y el olvido ...

opaco es el sentido de sus huellas,

de aquellas en que las penas Juegan

para untarce de arena,

para sentir que aun son bellas

Y que el ocaso atrajo sus pasos

de forma sincera.


gris es el camino de la tristeza

y de la enorme belleza engreida

pérdida por el paso de los años,

amargo es el engaño

y lo trivial de sus encantos

cuando la luz brilla escondida

entre una vía y la otra vida.

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palabras cerradas

Posted by odanamar Jan 28, 2015

musica angelical que hoy no puedo escuchar


se olvido mi corazon de querer

y oculto en su piel el sonido

de la risa que sonrojo mis mejillas

y  no quiere buscar,

alla,profundo esta durmiendo en el libro

que yo cierro cuando quiero que mi cuerpo

viva sin pesar.

ahi esta todo de mi y hasta lo que no fui

es mi debilidad y mi fortaleza

quienes tejidos bajo la misma letra

ocultan mi belleza.

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mis dos poemarios

Posted by odanamar Jan 27, 2015

51h7gE-5ZEL._AA160_marlyn.jpg512jObkdDmL._AA160_delirio.jpgMIS DOS LIBROS Publicados


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