I have to apologize that for a reason I have yet to understand, I missed Jaye and Anita’s post on February 7th. I hope to correct that today. I am visiting Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes. They are very talented sisters who author books. In addition, Jaye is interested in gardening and her bonsai collection. Anita also writes compelling poetry. I am delighted that Anita and Jaye volunteered to host a stop on the tour. Here is a link to their post.
A little more about Jaye
Jaye Marie came to writing rather late but has always loved books.
She enjoys reading many different genres, so was surprised to discover a passion for writing detective thrillers. Four of them to date, with more to follow.
She also enjoys running a website/blog, https://jenanita01.com and loves meeting all the wonderful people who drop in to say hello!
Jaye has 13 titles published. You can see all of them at Her Amazon Page
A little more about Anita
Anita Dawes loves all things esoteric, magical and the otherworldly and would prefer to live in a fairy tale. In between these moments, she likes to visit old churches and ancient buildings.
She has written six fiction novels in various genres, Bad Moon, Simple, Secrets, The Scarlet Ribbon; Let it Go and Not My Life. Presently working on a sequel to her popular supernatural romance, The Scarlet Ribbon.
Anita has recently rediscovered her childhood love of poetry and often writes and posts them online.
Once owned by an egocentric black and white cat called Merlin, named after her favourite hero, Anita dislikes computers and prefers to writes longhand, sharing a website http://jenanita01.com with Jaye Marie, who transcribes and edits her work…
Denise can project happiness with just a word. Her mantra is “To follow your inner child,” and that concept will keep her young forever. Under the pen name D. L. Finn, Denise has authored 20 titles in several genres. I have known Denise since I started writing and feel honored that she is a stop on the tour.
D. L. Finn is an independent California local who encourages everyone to embrace their inner child. She was born and raised in the foggy Bay Area, but in 1990, she relocated with her husband, kids, dogs, and cats to Nevada City, in the Sierra foothills. She immersed herself in reading all types of books but especially loved romance, horror, and fantasy. She always treasured creating her own reality on paper. Finally, surrounded by towering pines, oaks, and cedars, her creativity was nurtured until it bloomed. Her creations include children’s books, adult fiction, and poetry. She continues on her adventure with an open invitation to all readers to join her.
Her two latest books are ones I have enjoyed very much. (Click for Amazon)
Yes, this stop is with the same Teri Polen who brings us Bad Moon Rising each October. That month-long sharing of insights into the participating author’s personalities is a highlight of the year. In addition to her blog, Teri is an author and book reviewer. It is no wonder that I am delighted she offered to host a spot for the Detour on the Eternal Road Tour.
Teri Polen reads and watches horror, sci-fi, and fantasy. The Walking Dead, Harry Potter, and anything Marvel-related are likely to cause fangirl delirium. She lives in Bowling Green, KY with her husband, sons, and black cat. Sarah, her debut novel, was named a horror finalist in the 2017 Next Generation Indie Book Awards.
Teri has authored five books and participated in three anthologies.
Her latest is The Power of Three, a cannot put down Mystery. (Click cover for Amazon.
I have taken a flight over the Atlantic to visit with Esther Chilton. Esther is a talented Author, Tutor, Editor, and Blogger. Her regular features on her blog give a writer an opportunity to respond to prompts and to have a laugh as well. I am so glad to be with her today. Here is a link to her post
A little more about Esther.
Esther Chilton is a tutor with The Writers Bureau distance learning college. She has been a columnist in many writing magazines. Her work has appeared in a diverse range of magazines and newspapers, including The Guardian, Best of British, Your Cat, Prima, This England, Yours and The People’s Friend, to name a few.
In addition to tutoring, Esther works as a freelance copyeditor offering an editing, guidance and advice service for authors and writers.
To find out more about Esther, go to estherchilton.co.uk
Her books (Click for Amazon)
I have turned off comments. Please visit Esther and leave them there.
Craig and I have known each other since 2013, when we were the same book club members. I have admired Craig’s work and am grateful he volunteered to host a stop on the Detour on the Eternal Road Tour. Here is the link to his post.
A little about Craig.
“I was born in Elko, Nevada. I like to tell everyone I was born in a small town in the 1940s. I’m not quite that old, but Elko has always been a little behind the times. This gives me a unique perspective of earlier times and other ways of getting by. Some of this bleeds through into my fiction.
I moved to Idaho right after the turn of the century, and never looked back. My writing career was born here, with access to other writers and critique groups I jumped in with both feet.
I like to write about things that have something unusual. My works are in the realm of science fiction, paranormal, and fantasy. The goal is to entertain you for a few hours. I hope you enjoy the ride.”
I am at Gwen Plano’s place today. Her blog is titled Fiction and life . . . from the desk of Gwen M. Plano. She volunteered to host the second stop on the Detour on the Eternal Road tour. Of course, I jumped on the offer. Here is a linkto her post.
Gwen and I have known each other since the beginning of our blogging days. We were a team on a Blog Talk Radio show and co-authored the thriller The Contract.
Here is more about Gwen in her words
Gwen M. Plano
“As for my professional background, I am a retired educator. I taught and served as an administrator in colleges in Japan, New York, Connecticut, and California. My academic background is a bit unusual, but it has served me well. I graduated with honors in nutrition from San Diego State University. I was awarded a master’s degree in theology from the University of the State of New York’s Maryknoll Seminary and then received a master’s in counseling from Iona College. Finally, I earned a doctorate in higher education from Columbia University.
Click covers for Amazon.
Between travels with my husband and visits with family and friends, I now write. My first book, LETTING GO INTO PERFECT LOVE, Discovering the Extraordinary After Abuse, was published in June 2014 by She Writes Press and has just been re-published by the Fresh Ink Group. My second book, THE CONTRACT between heaven and earth, is co-authored by John W. Howell and was published by Keewayden Books on June 1, 2018. My third book, THE CHOICE the unexpected heroes, was published June 4, 2019 by Fresh Ink Group. THE CULMINATION a new beginning was also published by the Fresh Ink Group on November 23, 2020. REDEMPTION, was published by the Fresh Ink Group on February 21, 2023. Followed by my latest, The Gift and The Soul Whisper’s Decision.
Though writing is an accomplishment of no small measure for me, my greatest treasure and most profound source of joy has been and is my four adult children. It is they who have guided me through life’s mysteries.”
I hope you will visit Gwen’s post, as I have turned off comments here. Thank you.
Today begins the Detour on the Eternal Road Blog Tour. I am very grateful to Dan Antion for allowing me to visit his bar. I always enjoy the bar’s activities and interesting people who make appearances. His good friend David and the new bartender Curley always keep things moving. Dan likes to interact with Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness prompt on Saturdays. This week’s prompt is “Spoons,” so I’ll bet you’ll find that prompt there, too.
Thursday Doors Badges
Badge by Teagan R. Geneviene
Ritva at Ritva Sillanmäki Photography
Dan also coordinates the popular Thursday Doors and Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge. He is one of the busiest guys on the internet, so I’m so happy he volunteered to have me visit him. Here is a link to the bar.
Dan’s Bio
Retired – Husband, father, and author of the Dreamer’s Alliance Series. When I’m not writing, I might be in my woodshop, working around the house, or walking around with a camera. I might be having a beer with friends. You can find me on my blog at NoFacilities.com and on Amazon.
More about Dan in his words
“I have always enjoyed writing, and I am thrilled that technology has made it easy for me to share what I write. No Facilities is primarily about blog posts and photographs, but my writing has expanded to include books, which I’ve now begun to publish.
As I mentioned in my profile, I enjoy woodworking, cycling, and photography. Previous hobbies have included a 30-year love affair with a Triumph Spitfire and routine maintenance of a couple of Dodge pickup trucks. Automotive work is a hobby I set aside as the Triumph aged and cars became more sophisticated. I still enjoy building and maintaining mechanical contraptions.
I have a small but loving family, some of whom I have introduced. They are important to me, but they share information about themselves or choose not to share, and I respect those choices. The topic I started this blog with, influence, is centered on this family. They are the people who consistently influence the course of my life.”
Dan’s books (click to visit)
I have turned off comments here but would appreciate visiting Dan’s place.
Jacqui Murry writes wonderful books about life before modern history. I am so pleased to be a stop on her blog tour. She is here to discuss two of her books and give us some information on the life of Neanderthals. So, Jacqui, the blog is yours.
Thank you, John. It is a pleasure to be here. When you originally agreed to host a stop, you expressed interest in what Neanderthals ate. So, let’s go to that subject first.
What Did Neanderthals Eat
–John Howell
Neanderthals lived in a vast swath of Eurasia, from the Atlantic shore to the Altai Mountains in Siberia. They migrated often in response to the movement of herds, the fruiting of trees, and the weather. Evidence left behind in their home-of-choice, caves, shows they stayed there for only a few weeks to a month before moving on.
Why was their lifestyle nomadic? And once we understand the ‘why,’ what is the proof?
History of nomads today
Neanderthals were hunter-gatherers who lived in an area until they ran through its resources and then moved on to a new area. They never stripped it, understanding that enough must remain for regrowth so they could come back and re-harvest. They adapted their diet to the resources that were most readily available and easily accessible.
Feeding a tribe of ten-twenty individuals (a common Neanderthal tribe size) for seven days requires the equivalent of three reindeer. Though common lore shows them as meat eaters, they ate a surprisingly varied diet depending upon whether they lived in forested landscapes, grasslands, mountainous regions, or a seaside (where they ate fish, mollusks, seals, and even dolphins). In Southern Europe–like Germany, where they were first discovered–they ate lots of crabs, clams, fish, and seabirds.
What did they eat?
Specifics of what they ate comes from analyzing their teeth, bones, scat, and fragments in their living spaces. Here’s a partial list: meat, birds, groundhogs, rats, mushrooms, plants, nuts, fruit, nuts, tubers, grasses, cattails, insects, moss, seafood, and other foods that varied depending on location.
When they ate meat, killing and processing were systematic, not a free-for-all. They were savvy enough to know and value the richest parts of the animal–internal organs, eyes, tongue–but used all parts. For example, fat for its purposes, tendons for cordage, and gut sacks for bags. They liked sweet flavors, so were happy to find honey to add to their diet.
At this point in human evolution, food was eaten raw and cooked. Often, the food Neanderthals ate required careful preparation and benefited from the addition of spices and herbs. Many leftovers and scraps were combined into stews. Their expertise in cooking foods was so advanced that we now consider it a strong indicator of their intelligence, akin to modern man.
How did they eat?
Eating large pieces of meat was done by holding a chunk between their teeth and cutting some off with a cutter, then passing the large piece on to the next person around the fire. Leaves were used as plates and then eaten. Bark was also used and then repurposed as tinder for fires. They didn’t use utensils. Neanderthals threw away nothing they could use.
At one point, scientists thought the reason Neanderthals became extinct was because large game disappeared. When we came to understand that Neanderthals were omnivores like you and I, this theory fell out of favor.
There’s a lot of interesting information on how Neanderthals cooked their meals, but I’ll save that for the article on that subject.
Blurbs
Savage Land is the third prehistoric man trilogy in the series, Man. Vs. Nature.Written in the spirit of Jean Auel, Savage Land explores how two bands of humans survived one of the worst natural disasters in Earth’s history, when volcanic eruptions darkened the sky, massive tsunamis crossed the ocean in crushing waves, and raging fires burned the land. Each tribe starring in the story considered themselves apex predators. Neither was. That crown belonged to Nature and she was intent on washing the blight of man from her face.
In Endangered Species, Book One of the trilogy, Yu’ung’s Neanderthal tribe must join with Fierce’s Tall Ones—a Homo sapiens tribe–on a cross-continent journey that starts in the Siberian Mountains. The goal: a new homeland far from the devastation caused by the worst volcanic eruption ever experienced by Man. How they collaborate despite their instinctive distrust could end the journey before it starts or forge new relationships that will serve both well in the future.
In Badlands, Book Two, the tribes must split up, each independently crossing what Nature has turned into a wasteland. They struggle against starvation, thirst, and desperate enemies more feral than human. If they quit or worse, lose, they will never reunite with their groups or escape the most deadly natural disaster ever faced by our kind.
Join me in this three-book fictional exploration of Neanderthals. Be ready for a world nothing like what you thought it would be, filled with clever minds, brilliant acts, and innovative solutions to potentially life-ending problems, all based on real events. At the end of this trilogy, you’ll be proud to call Neanderthals family.
Jacqui Murray is the author of the popular prehistoric fiction saga, Man vs. Nature which explores seminal events in man’s evolution one trilogy at a time. She is also author of the Rowe-Delamagente thrillers and Building a Midshipman, the story of her daughter’s journey from high school to United States Naval Academy. Her non-fiction includes 100+ books on tech into education, reviews as an Amazon Vine Voice and a freelance journalist on tech ed topics.
Chapter 1 of Endangered Species, 75,000 years ago, What we call Germany today.
Jun was lost. Again. He gripped his thick-shafted spear in one hand, throwing stones in the other, and brushed aside the prickle of fear that flooded his body.
It wasn’t being alone that worried him. This was his first time hunting with the clan. He’d wanted to do well.
Initially, Jun had kept pace with the hunters, his strides long and easy, eyes firmly locked on the back of the male in front of him, but—as too often happened—he became distracted by a bird’s call and wandered off to find it, maybe talk to it. Someone shouted his name, far away and so muted, he barely heard it. He didn’t respond, of course. Upright voices would frighten the bird if it hadn’t already fled. He hunkered into the underbrush, reduced his breathing, and squatted there long … longer … but the bird fell silent.
I’ll look for it next time I’m out here.
He stood. Feet spread, ears perked, he twisted around, and to his horror, didn’t recognize where he was. Nor did he hear the sounds of his fellow hunters moving along Deer’s trail.
I wandered farther than I intended, and hurried away, through the leaves and dirt, hoping to find Deer’s trace or his clan’s prints, but found neither so he shouted. The sound echoed harshly through the trees.
No response.
They can’t be far. By now, they must know I’m not with them.
He hugged his arms around his chest, suddenly cold, and tilted his head up. Sun had moved, a lot. Instead of worrying him, it comforted him.
I’ll stay here until they return.
He crouched, picked at the forest’s hearty overgrowth, ate a few worms, and waited. No one came. He called several times, but all he heard were insects, a snake slithering, and squirrels chattering.
I’ll go where Deer is.
He knew where the herd headed because he’d followed it several times to where it ate the fresh young grasses, safe, it thought, from prying eyes. He trotted down what he hoped would end up their trail, searching for trace, listening for the rustle of hide-covered bodies passing through dense brush carrying carcasses. Finally, later than expected, he found Deer’s path, but they didn’t stop in their usual place. They must have known they were being stalked—the hunters were noisy—and trotted into a scree pile as though knowing that would conceal prints, which it did. Jun could either keep wandering until he re-located the clan’s path or make his way back to the camp.
He checked Sun, but it was now hidden by clouds.
He crouched, comfortable in his waiting. No one would be surprised. He often returned late with tales of an excursion rather than armloads of meat to feed the clan. The group would have ejected him, forcing him to make his way alone, but his mother was the clan healer and wouldn’t allow it. She was training him to take over when her stiff joints and failing eyesight meant she could no longer fulfill her duties. He had no interest in illnesses, but understood he must fulfill some duty or lose the tribe’s protection. As a result, he assisted her if he couldn’t avoid it and learned enough about herbs and mulches and poultices to be tolerated.
None of which helped him now.
I can’t wait, and scrambled up a hillock, found a landmark he knew, and headed toward it along a debris-laden forest floor, head up, eyes shut to concentrate on a panoply of delightful odors. He heard the hiss but as background noise to his meandering daydreams. By the time it stiffened his hackles and his eyes popped open, it was too late.
Snake!
Jun stabbed with his spear, to frighten not kill, but missed. Snake didn’t. A blur of movement and pain seared through Jun’s body. He collapsed with a thud and Snake slithered away. Jun attempted to stand and crumpled.
I’ll crawl along the path. The hunters will see me on their way back. Sweat broke out across his forehead. As will predators.
He scuttled into the dirt-clotted root ball of a towering tree, sharing the cozy space with worms, slugs, and spiders.
I’ll call out if I hear someone.
He tamped down the pain and dug through his shoulder sack. No surprise, he forgot to restock his treatments. He tried to blink the dust from his eyes and then rubbed, using the cleanest part of a grubby finger. He mulled over what to do as his ankle swelled bigger than his calf and heat flushed through his body. Everything around him spun and his eyes drooped. The more he strained to think, the more his head throbbed. He tucked his legs against his chest and imagined Snake’s poison infecting his insides.
How do I stop it before it stops me?
He solved it by passing out.
The scrape of a foot awoke Jun. Every part of his body hurt, but he managed to crack one eye. An Upright female not his kind strode toward him, a spear in one hand and a blistering frown on her face. He should say something, but his mouth was too dry.
She acts like she knows me.
He tried to rise, but no part of his body cooperated so he stared at her, worried and somewhat disturbed by the dark fury she directed at him.
Why is she so angry? I’ve done nothing to her.
Seeing his swollen red ankle did nothing to soften her attitude. Disgust washed over her in waves and her fists clenched a rough-hewn lance so tightly, the whites of her knuckles gleamed.
There is something familiar about her….
She had the small skull, long limbs, and narrow torso of a Primitive, lacking the musculature common to Jun’s kind. And it hit him.
“Xhosa?”
She growled in response, a sound so like hatred, he would have pulled back if the tree trunk didn’t stop him.
The female Xhosa visited his dreams often and they got along well. They discussed topics no one shared his interest in—where the herds went during their migrations, why Spider’s thin silken strands were so strong, why Sun left if Moon arrived. Did one orb fear the other or had they arranged to share the sky in this way? These types of curious queries annoyed everyone in his tribe, but excited Xhosa.
“Why are you here? I only see you in dreams.” He squiggled, attempted to stand, and collapsed. “Am I dreaming?”
“No, Shanadar. You have forced me to come in person. Night is approaching. It is not safe to be out here alone. Return to your homebase. I have plans for you and being eaten by Cat isn’t one of them.”
Her lips didn’t move nor were her words the clan’s, but he understood what she said. He wanted to ask why she cared if the night stalkers ate him, but what he said was something else entirely.
“Snake poisoned me.”
Shock flashed through her eyes and she scowled. “I see. You won’t be leaving on schedule.”
His head spun, started to ask what schedule, but stopped himself. Whatever the answer no longer mattered.
“Xhosa. Snake killed me. Well, there are treatments for Snake’s venom, but I didn’t bring them. Mother has them, but I can’t get to her fast enough. And the hunters—I don’t know what happened to them. They should have come by now….”
His voice trailed off. Talking exhausted him. Still, he owed her one more explanation. “Whatever your plan, it can no longer include me.”
She dismissed him with a flip of her fingers. “You’re not going to die, Shanadar. Come. My kith can take care of you.”
“Shanadar,” he mumbled. “She keeps calling me Shanadar.” She didn’t explain why and he didn’t ask. Or mind.
But he did ask about kith as Xhosa yanked him to his feet—foot, the injured one dangling uselessly above the ground—encircled her arm around his waist and draped his around her shoulder before replying.
“You call your group a clan. Ours is kith. The Tall Ones are a band, the Canis Pack.”
Tall Ones? He tried to make sense of her answer, but the words got lost in his muddy thoughts.
I’ll ask later.
They slid through the forest, well beyond his clan’s area and Deer’s favorite eating spots, past a tree tall enough to touch Sun. He’d never seen it before. Did it just grow? Soon, they reached a gathering of Primitives the size of Jun’s clan crouched by an overhang. All had low foreheads, prominent brow ridges, and body shapes like a shorter version of the tall slender strangers who occasionally passed through the clan’s territory—
That’s who she called Tall Ones!
The kith members wore long wraps or capes like Xhosa’s, unsewn, as though they simply cut a hole in a pelt big enough for their head to push through. No capes or wraps, and foot coverings were fur or bark strapped to feet.
But the dark, deep eyes, fixed on the new arrival, shone with intelligence. They blinked a greeting before resuming their work.
“They expected us?”
“No. They have adjusted to strangers trailing in here with me.”
Jun’s eyes popped open. “Other Uprights?”
She chuckled, the first smile he’d seen from her since she showed up. “Usually pawed and tailed.”
He had no idea what to ask about that and didn’t bother trying. Ignoring the growing ache in his leg took all his energy. She has much to explain, but it will wait until I recover.
Xhosa pushed him gently toward a boulder. “Crouch there.”
He collapsed. His good leg was numb. Even if she hadn’t told him to rest, he couldn’t have gone farther. The relief to his pounding ankle was overwhelming. He stilled his entire body, his breathing shallow as another Primitive approached, holding supplies eerily similar to those Jun’s mother carried. Then, before he could blink, she cut across Snake’s puncture and squeezed. He started to scream, but stopped because he felt nothing. The poison dried up and Xhosa scrubbed the puncture. Once she deemed it clean, she applied moss to suck out new impurities, as his mother would. All Xhosa’s ministrations were like his mother’s except Xhosa’s didn’t hurt. Mother’s always did.
Xhosa rotated back on her heels with a grunt of either satisfaction or hopelessness. Jun was too hot, tired, and sick to care.
She stood. “I will deposit you where I found you. You will awake groggy, feeling unwell, but you will be fine.”
I am so happy to welcome Denise here today. She has a wonderful new book to tell us about.
Thank you for having me here today, John, to help celebrate my latest release, Sounds in the Silence. 😊
Sounds in the Silence was written in two decades that were forty years apart. In 1965, Maria woke up in the old house soon-to-be inn, and heard a female voice pleading to be found. Maria is startled but not frightened … yet. The next night, Logan and Maria hear the ghost’s request and see a misty outline of a woman. The problem they run into is no one wants to discuss their house’s history.
When they weren’t working on the house or hunting ghosts, Logan, and Maria would practice singing popular songs, including Blowing in the Wind and Sounds of Silence, as well as their own originals, to perform for their guests. They had big dreams that didn’t include a ghost or someone breaking into the barn and killing the chickens. This leads them into an unwanted mystery.
Great music, bell-bottom pants, and long hair in the 1960s make for fun writing material. I had an enjoyable time grocery shopping in 1965, spending less for two full carts of food than I would for one bag of groceries now. It was nice to reminisce through Logan and Maria while they visited the micro-machines at the library, ate bologna sandwiches, and received welcome baskets from the neighbors. The sixties are a favorite decade of mine to explore and write stories in.
Blurb
A dual timeline where murder has consequences 40 years later for the living—and deceased.
Maria and Logan Davis stumbled upon the perfect old house by a secluded lake—a prime candidate for their dream inn. They knew a renovation was involved but didn’t expect a persistent ghost that pleaded to be found. Determined, Maria delved into the mystery, only to uncover a haunting love story and murder from the Roaring Twenties. Yet, the young couple’s curiosity shifts to fear when they realize someone has taken a dangerous interest in their barn. With time ticking away, they must unravel the secrets of their home’s past before it’s too late.
Yes, I do believe we get messages from angels and ghosts.
Author Bio
D. L. Finn is an independent California local who encourages everyone to embrace their inner child. She was born and raised in the foggy Bay Area, but in 1990 she relocated with her husband, kids, dogs, and cats to Nevada City, in the Sierra foothills. She immersed herself in reading all types of books but especially loved romance, horror, and fantasy. She always treasured creating her own reality on paper. Finally, surrounded by towering pines, oaks, and cedars, her creativity was nurtured until it bloomed. Her creations include children’s books, adult fiction, and poetry. She continues on her adventure with an open invitation to all readers to join her.
I am delighted to be with Robbie Cheadle for the last stop on the tour of The Last Drive. You can visit Robbie’s post HERE.
I enjoy following Robbie. She offers so much on her blog. There are recipes to try, book reviews to follow up on, and Children’s stories to delight a child in your life. There is always something new at Robbie’s place. In addition, Robbie works full-time as a Charted Accountant, which is the equivalent of a CPA here in the US. She is also a spouse and a mother of two boys. With all this and 25 published titles, to say she is very accomplished is an understatement.
Here is a little more about Robbie.
Roberta Eaton Cheadle is a South African writer and poet specialising in historical, paranormal, and horror novels and short stories. She is an avid reader in these genres, and her writing has been influenced by famous authors, including Bram Stoker, Edgar Allan Poe, Amor Towles, Stephen Crane, Enrich Maria Remarque, George Orwell, Stephen King, and Colleen McCullough.
Roberta has short stories and poems in seven anthologies and has two published novels:
Through the Nethergate, a historical supernatural fantasy; and
A Ghost and His Gold, a historical paranormal novel set in South Africa.
Roberta has ten children’s books published under the name Robbie Cheadle.
Roberta was educated at the University of South Africa, where she achieved a Bachelor of Accounting Science in 1996 and an Honours Bachelor of Accounting Science in 1997. She was admitted as a member of The South African Institute of Chartered Accountants in 2000.
Roberta has worked in corporate finance from 2001 until the present date and has written seven publications relating to investing in Africa. She has won several awards over her 20-year career in the category of Transactional Support Services.
One of Robbie’s Books – click for Amazon.
Thank you, Robbie, for helping to spread the word about The Last Drive.
I have closed the comments, so you only feel the need to scribe once.
Dan’s Bio
Jacqui Murry writes wonderful books about life before modern history. I am so pleased to be a stop on her blog tour. She is here to discuss two of her books and give us some information on the life of Neanderthals. So, Jacqui, the blog is yours.
