ME AND CAPTAIN SAM

http://www.amazon.com/Ghost-of-a-Chance/dp/B00LV7YBOM/

 

FREE AUDIOBOOK!  LIMITED TIME!

Many of you are writers. 

Imagine yourselves on the run for your lives from the beings you have created in the worlds that you only imagined in your novels!

Imagine that heroes of your novels come to your aid, along with the ghosts of Mark Twain and Marlene Dietrich

against the likes of a murderous William Shakespeare, Cardinal Richelieu, and the Devil himself in the form of your worst villain.

Imagine being betrayed by those you would have thought you could trust from your novels.

How would your characters feel at being face to face with the puppeteer who danced them through trial and fire?

If you died in the world of your own novel, would you TRULY die?

GHOST OF A CHANCE is such an adventure brought to stunning life by Mark Kamish, whose own life reads like a novel.

Ask me here for your FREE AUDIOBOOK of this novel with your email address,

 

and I will send you the code for your free audio book!

LIMITED TIME ONLY!

 

GHOST OF A CHANCE is THE CAT'S MEOW.

http://www.amazon.com/Ghost-of-a-Chance/dp/B00LV7YBOM/

 

 

Despite being a supernatural thriller, there are some light-hearted fanciful moments to it. 

 

And Mark Kamish pulls them off famously (pun intended)



{"Now, that's entertainment!"
- Vlad the Impaler.}

{Samuel Clemens, ghost here.

Roland took refuge in the fictional world his Lakota blood made real, giving his cat, Gypsy, to Marlene Dietrich for safekeeping.

I could have told the boy:

never trust a beautiful blonde.

She dumped the poor critter with the mysterious Elu in his Mirror World.

This is Gypsy's story in the critter's own words.} :


That blonde alley cat hadn't fooled me. She hadn't dumped me here in Mirror World for my safety.

She wanted Food Guy all to herself. I was going to find him ... and her. Then, I'd set that two-legged cat straight.

But first I had a situation to take care of.

Slit eyes the size of windows glared at me. I glared back. After all, I was Gypsy, warrior princess, granddaughter of Bast herself.

So what if the Sphinx of Thebes outweighed me by a ton or two? I had her on agility. And good looks.

If she didn't let go of that human ... what was his name? Oh, yes, Elu.

If that Sphinx didn't let go of Elu, I was going to get all Sith on her ample rump.

He glared at me, too. What was his problem?

"It's all your fault, you furry rat," he snapped at me.

"What? My fault? So I unflipped the carrier latch. Big furry deal. I haven't been to the outskirts of Hell in ages.

So I took my chance. It's not my fault you let Fang-Face sneak up on you?"

I wrinkled my muzzle. "Some fearsome Apache you are. Just how do let two tons of Ugly sneak up on you anyway?"

The Sphinx narrowed her eyes and rumbled, "Did you just call me Ugly?"

"Yeah, Mammary Girl, I did."

I was making fun of her so she didn't catch on to the fact that she scared the ever-loving piss out of me.

I looked up at the towering bulk of her. I smiled wide, freezing it into place from sheer terror.

She was a sphinx. An honest to Egypt sphinx. The simple sentence doesn't do her justice.

The leathery rustle of her wings. The hellsky striking fire from her fangs.

Me sceaming like a little kitten at the sight of her. That would do her justice. Not that I screamed mind you.

I have my reputation to think of.

I tried to think of a worse fix I had been in and couldn't. A living, breathing, fang-bearing, claw-extending sphinx was towering over me.

Her huge body, though the size of an elephant, looked like a lion's. Except for the giant eagle wings.

She held a struggling Elu in one clenched paw. She sneered down at him with the head of a woman the size of a small boulder. But her teeth weren't those of a woman's.

They were like a lion's, long and sharp as the comfort of politicians. I watched gloomily as the muscles rippled under her golden fur like knotted ropes under a living canvas.

Her claws oozed out longer and dug into the black sands as if in anticipation of ripping away my flesh.

"You dare call me Mammary Girl?," the Sphinx husked.

I forced a yawn. "You see any other mammaries dragging the sand?"

"My breasts are not! They are round and firm!"

"What century are we talking about, toots?"
With a roar of rage, she lunged at me. She was as agile as a boulder and about as bright. I raced forward and ducked under her stomach.

There. Right under her belly button.

I wasn't thinking damage. I was thinking tickle. Which I did. She curled up laughing in an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

Ever hear a ten ton Sphinx giggle?

Nightmare time believe me.

Elu was still clutched in her now tightening fist. Well, so much for that plan. His dried apricot face was turning all kinds of neat shades of blue.

"What was your strategy in that?," he gasped.

I faked surprise. "Strategy - smatagedy. I'm just having fun."

"I'll show you fun, rat," roared the Sphinx, spinning around to lunge at me.

Two could play that game. Angelina Jolie was doddering compared to my moves.

I scrambled up the sloping face of the boulder to my right, sparks flying from my claws. I leapt onto the broad back of the screaming Sphinx.

"Ride 'em, CowCat," I yowled.

She bucked me off before I could take another breath. I flipped in the air and landed all Jedi-like on the sands in front of her.

"That was fun! Want to do it again?"

Her slit eyes narrowed. "Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"

"The granddaughter of Bast actually, Sag-Breasts."
The Sphinx roared to the hellsky of the mirror world, then husked, "I laugh at Ba---"

Lightning sliced the insane sky and rasping thunder actually shook the sands beneath my paws.

"Ah, Sand-Ho, I'd cool it on any badmouthing ancient Egyptian forces of nature, were I you."

The Sphinx looked uneasily at the darkening skies, then turned back to me. "If you would have this human unharmed, you must first answer my riddle."

"Hey, not so fast there, Two Ton. You have to earn the right to ask the granddaughter of Bast a riddle by answering one yourself."

Thunder rolled like an angry chorus of bulls above us, and the Sphinx sighed, "And if I fail to answer your riddle?"

I shrugged lazily. "Then, you hand me the human unharmed and leap off the cliff."

The Sphinx roared so that my ears rang, and I made a face. "Too much, huh?"

"All right, then you just leap off the cliff."

"What?," shouted both Elu and the Sphinx.

"Just joking," I snickered.

The Sphinx growled, "Fool of a cat, there isn't even a cliff."

I nodded to the new fixture of landscape. "There wasn't until you cracked smart about Grandmother. She takes things like that personal."

(Which is what I'd been hoping.)
I nodded to Elu. "You can't answer, you just give me the human unharmed. Deal?"

She looked like she wanted to eat the lips off my beautiful, furry face but instead grumbled, "Agreed. Ask your riddle. And be fast with it. The aroma of your flesh hungers my belly."

And it must have. I heard her stomach rumble.

To stall for time to think of a decent, hell, even an indecent riddle, I clapped my two front paws together, "Oh, goody. A command performance."

"Riddle or die!"

I blew out my cheeks, thought, and thought some more. The Sphinx began to growl and a riddle Grandmother used to ask me at breakfast time came to me, and I purred :

"In marble walls as white as milk,

Lined with a skin of softest silk,

Within a fountain crystal clear,

A golden apple does appear,

No doors are there to this stronghold,

But Man breaks in to steal the gold."


I flashed the Sphinx a smile. "What is it?

"What is what?," she shrilled like a granite wall shearing in two.

"What am I describing in my riddle?"

"You spoke nonsense words!"

"This coming from a riddle-asking fool? Shame on you."

"There is no answer. Your flesh and this human's are mine!"

"An egg, flesh-breath. An egg. Yeah, not so easy on the receiving end of a riddle is it?"

"You cheated! And so you --"

She started to lunge when sand-stinging winds swirled all around her and thunder rumbled loud and long. The Sphinx screamed, her claws cutting ruts in the stone beneath her.

But the winds still bore her along like a scrap of paper. She struggled for all the good it did her. She was forced along by the fury of the winds.

Right over the cliff.

"Elu!"

I heard a chuckle from where the Sphinx had dropped him in her efforts to stop herself being pushed over the cliff's edge.

"So you were worried about me, cat."

"Yeah, well don't let it get out. I have my reputation to uphold."

I padded to the cliff's edge and looked over. Ugggh. I made a face.

"No more lasagna for me."

I looked over to Elu. "Speaking of which ... I wonder how Food Guy is doing?"
********************

MEET THE MAN BEHIND THE VOICE

 

http://www.amazon.com/Ghost-of-a-Chance/dp/B00LV7YBOM/

 

When you listen to an audiobook, a great narrator transforms the experience into a lush theater of the mind.

 

 

Such a talent is Mark Kamish. 

 

But he is much more than a skilled narrator.  His past makes for a stirring tale of its own:

 

A West Point graduate, former Army officer (82nd Airborne Division), former corporate businessman and current criminal defense attorney,

Mark is enjoying the ride on which life is taking him.  Ghost of a Chance is Mark's first published audiobook, but he is not new to storytelling.

A student of award-winning audiobook narrator Carrington MacDuffie,

Mark has been able to cultivate and fine tune his craft both in the courtroom (trying cases to juries) and

on stage, acting in a variety of greater-Indianapolis community theater productions.

Mark:


"I am so pleased my first author-narrator experience was with Roland.

  Not only was he helpful, patient and my loudest cheerleader, his creativity and wit brought many smiles to my face over the past several months.  

Roland's work was a great pleasure to read (even though I had to do it armed with dictionaries, thesauruses, dialect tapes, history books and literary encyclopedias!)." 


"If stories come to you, care for them.  And learn to give them away where they are needed.  Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive."


~ from Crow and Weasel by Barry Lopez

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Some of you know that I am part-Lakota ...

     What you don't know is ...

          That the more I write, the more real my creations become until ...

                They take on a life of their own!

Join me in my LATEST AUDIOBOOK ...

     where I am accused of killing the ghost of Ernest Hemingway!

Can the ghosts of MARK TWAIN and MARLENE DIETRICH guide me safely through my own fictional worlds

to find the true murderer before MY OWN CHARACTERS KILL ME?

Listen to my audiobook GHOST OF A CHANCE and find out!

Mark Kamish  will entertain and amaze you with his skill.