The Lantern, a Renaissance Mystery
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Other Formats:Audible Audio Edition Forbidden Room (Forbidden Trilogy Book 1)
Dec 16, 2013Read this and over 1 million books withKindle Unlimited.Auto-delivered wirelesslyFREE Shipping on eligible ordersIn StockMore Buying ChoicesBorrow for free from your Kindle device.Join Amazon PrimeForbidden Night (Forbidden Trilogy Book 2)
Sep 14, 2016by Joanne LewisRead this and over 1 million books withKindle Unlimited.Auto-delivered wirelesslyFREE Shipping on eligible ordersIn StockMore Buying ChoicesBorrow for free from your Kindle device.Join Amazon Prime- Read this and over 1 million books withKindle Unlimited.Auto-delivered wirelesslyBorrow for free from your Kindle device.Join Amazon Prime
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Other Formats:Audible Audio EditionBorrow for free from your Kindle device.Join Amazon Prime Sleeping Cupid (Michelangelo & Me Book 2)
Sep 18, 2015Read this and over 1 million books withKindle Unlimited.Auto-delivered wirelesslyFREE Shipping on eligible ordersIn StockBorrow for free from your Kindle device.Join Amazon PrimeWicked Good
Dec 17, 2013Read this and over 1 million books withKindle Unlimited.Whispersync for Voice-readyFREE Shipping on eligible ordersIn StockMore Buying Choices
Other Formats:Audible Audio Edition, Mass Market PaperbackBorrow for free from your Kindle device.Join Amazon PrimeMéchamment bon (French Edition)
Jun 5, 2014Read this and over 1 million books withKindle Unlimited.Auto-delivered wirelesslyFREE Shipping on eligible ordersIn StockMore Buying ChoicesBorrow for free from your Kindle device.Join Amazon PrimeThe Forbidden Room
Apr 1994by Joanne T. Smith
Author Updates
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Blog postI had a friend named Ellen growing up who copied everything I did. She was one year younger than me. Like a sibling who mimicked my every move, she annoyed me. When we were eight and seven years old, respectively, we took showers after a day at the beach. After getting out of the shower, I put the towel around my chest like how my mother did. She copied me. I scoffed and she put it around her waist, like our dads. I bring up this
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Blog postRecently I made my first Muslim friend. Aakifah and I met during a writing workshop. Amid conversations on character development and plotting, we discussed her culture including Ramadan and prayer rituals. We also talked about lone wolves and terrorist groups who massacre in the name of Islam. I didn't mention the American president. I was too embarrassed. Instead, I asked a question that had plagued me about the Muslim community. “Where is the Muslim leader that speaks to the non-Muslim m
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Blog postDuring my first semester at UT, I read “All the Light We Cannot See” by Anthony Doerr and “The Name of the Rose” by Umberto Eco. My goal in studying these novels was to begin to dissect what is historical fiction, what are the elements that make up a historical novel, and why I wish to write in this genre. As I am dedicating my time at UT to studying the historical novel, this annotation is the beginning of my exploration into how I can be the best historical novelist possible. Reading these tw
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Blog postRecently a friend said to me that Hanukkah was a made-up holiday so Jews could get presents like Christians do at Christmastime. I explained that wasn’t true, Hanukkah was for real, and I quickly told him the story of how over 2000 years ago the Jewish Temple was overtaken by Greek-Syrian oppressors and Judaism was outlawed. Jews rebelled and the temple was liberated. To celebrate the event a menorah was lit, however there was only enough oil to burn for one day. The miracle occurred when the c
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Blog postI have a ten-pound gray poodle and two cats. They are sweet and affectionate, adorable and playful. From Frisco, I get unconditional love and writing breaks when we go for walks. Bruno is my big gray and white striped baby who loves to cuddle and Dante, my black cat, is a gentle angel. Like most siblings, they fight. It’s why I’m glad they don’t have cell phones, and thumbs. Not only would I have to endure their endless texts, they’d use up all the minutes on our family plan and leave none for
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Blog postIt is said that everyone has one true love in life, but I have learned this is not true as I have fallen in love many times. As a child, I was in love with my parents who protected, nurtured and guided me. Dad made up bedtime stories that carried into daytime hours. Mom encouraged me to be brave and try new things: food, activities, and friends. They told me I could achieve anything. When I was eight years old, I wrote my first book about the weather. I covered two pieces of cardboard with wa
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Blog postI like cemeteries. There are names for people like me such as tombstone tourist, cemetery hunter, and graver, which are not to be confused with a taphophile who is someone who loves cemeteries and funerals. I dislike funerals. The first rural cemetery, also called a garden cemetery, was Mount Auburn (1831), near Boston, Massachusetts. The second was Mount Hope (1834) in Bangor, Maine where my sister and nephews live. Recently I took a tour of Mount Hope conducted by the Bangor Historical Socie
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Blog postI strive to write the best books and essays possible. I hope my words matter, entertain, make people think, encourage and motivate. I write a weekly blog post to hone my skills and to share my thoughts on topics that intrigue me, concern me, anger me, or make me smile. I write novels to share stories that my brain can no longer corral, and to have an excuse to research topics that interest me and, hopefully, that interest my readers. I attend an MFA program in creative writing to be the best wr
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Blog postMy cell phone rings each weekday morning at 8:30. It is My Person on the other end. “Hi there. How are you?” she asks. “Good. And you?” “Good.” Our chats begin in this mundane fashion each morning. Sometimes we speak for a few moments as one of us has to go, or the connection is bad and we’re frustrated. Other calls last longer. Our conversations contain fluff with details of the evening before, or particulars of what the new day may bring. Our talks are also substantive as we share secrets
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Blog postIf Hillary Clinton were a man and Donald Trump were a woman, this election season would still be remembered as one of the most interesting and absurd presidential campaigns ever. This isn’t because of Donald’s irresponsible statements, it’s not because of trust issues involving Hillary, and it’s not because of Bernie Sanders and the rise of the progressive movement. If our presidential nominees’ genders were switched, with 92 days until November 8th, future civics classes would view this elect
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Blog postThe other day I drove my blue Ford Mustang along Broward Boulevard when, at a stoplight, I heard honking. To my right a twenty-something man in a red Mustang frantically waved for me to roll down my window. I figured he needed directions so I put down the passenger window and leaned toward it, ready to send him on the right path. Instead he said, “Nice car. What year?” “2010,” I told him. “It looks great, but you drive like an old lady.” He cracked up. And so did I. As he got a better look at
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Blog postOur nation is experiencing a tumultuous time of divisiveness, terrorism, racism and prejudice. Over the last half-century, which is my lifetime, we have witnessed countless disturbing images in photographs and videos, on newscasts, over the Internet, and in person. The current polarization seems inevitable due to all we have seen, and has damaged many of the bridges that unite us. Confrontations during the civil rights movement,
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Blog postThis is a guest post by my sister, Amy Lewis Faircloth. The news around the world is dreadful. Two young black men recently killed by police officers, one in Minnesota and one in Louisiana. Police officers fatally gunned down in Dallas and Louisiana. Terrorists attack in Turkey and across the globe. Hate attacks in Orlando. Over 80 people murdered by a truck driver in France. The presumptive Republican presidential candidate praises Saddam Hussein. The United Kingdom vo
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Blog postDear Hillary, I am one of the millions of Americans who are horrified and amused by this election season. I know you get advice from advisors, political pundits, and the Joe on the street as to how to run your campaign. I thought I would add my opinion to the ruckus. Please consider vetting Michelle Obama as your vice president. If she isn’t available, I have anot
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Blog postAt fifty-one years old I am embarrassed that I have just made my first Muslim friend. Aakifah and I met during a writing workshop. Amid conversations on character development and plotting, we discussed her culture including Ramadan, which she was observing. We also talked about lone wolves and terrorist groups who massacre in the name of Islam. I asked a question that has plagued me about the Muslim community. “Where is the Muslim leader that speaks to the non-Muslim masses and explains that th
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Blog postIn the wake of the Orlando shooting, it’s time to delete the word tolerate and its forms (tolerance, tolerant, tolerating) from our vocabularies when referring to the LGBTQ community. We should insert the word accept in its stead. The word tolerate most likely became popular in the sixteenth century in England. It came from Old French, which borrowed it from Latin. Five hundred years later, use of the word in America is at its height: to “tolerate” the LGBTQ community. Those who are beamed acr
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Blog postAs the only redhead in my immediate family my brother Warren knew how to annoy me. The milkman is your father, he’d say at a time when milk was delivered in glass bottles and left on Long Island doorsteps. You were born in a pumpkin patch. Mom and Dad left you out in the rain and you rusted. At six years old, each of his comments were answered with fast-flowing tears that covered my freckled face, by my wails to my parents to make him take those horrible statements back, and by my pleas for him
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Blog postAt fifty-one years old, I decided to become a Bat Mitzvah. This is the drash I gave on that day. Introduction: Why am I doing this now? Shortly before my father passed away one year ago, he said to me, join a temple, become part of the Jewish community. I can’t recall dad ever giving bad advice. I found Congregation Etz Chaim and attended my first service last year on Yom Kippur. I remember asking Rabbi Noah shortly after if there were Bat Mitzvah classes. She said classes were starting soon.
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Blog postThere was a little girl born on November 17th in the year the Beatles arrived in America and Cassius Clay became Mohammed Ali. She was a chunky little thing that slid out of her mother’s womb with a shock of red hair on top of her head and chubby cheeks that soon would be dotted with freckles. Her father focused on this little girl and—even though he already had a four-year-old daughter and a two-year-old son he loved like nothing he had ever loved before—this little girl grabbed a special spot
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Blog postThis is Dad's eulogy, as shared by us three siblings--myself, my sister Amy and my brother Warren--at dad's funeral on April 19, 2015. We all stood before the podium, reading the parts like a script. We hope we made dad proud. WARREN Our dad died last Tuesday, April 14, 2015, at approximately 11:30 a.m. We will miss him forever. He was a great dad. He provided us with a nurturing loving mom, a secure financial situation and a stable life. His advice through the years, whether s
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Blog post*This is the final of four essays dealing with the death of a parent As many of you know from my previous blog posts, my father elected to go off dialysis since his quality of life was poor while on it. Through diet and a doctor willing to skirt protocol, he managed to delay starting dialysis for a couple of years. But when the time came when his body could no longer fend off toxins through good diet and good luck, he started the life preserving measure two days each week. K
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Blog post*This is the third of four essays dealing with the death of a parent As the Elton John song goes, sorry seems to be the hardest word. But I'm beginning to believe the hardest word is goodbye. How do I say goodbye to my father who was the first to see me when I was born, who has loved me unconditionally, and who made me feel safe in an unsafe world? Grief is a response to a loss. The loss of a person we’ve grown attached to and relied upon. Perhaps the loss of someone who failed to live up to ou
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Blog post*This is the second of four essays dealing with the death of a parent Dad was born on June 25, 1933. The second son of David and Shirley Lewis and younger brother to Hartley. He ran track excelling at the hundred meters. When his father went bankrupt he put himself through school and studied numbers. He went from being an accountant with an office in the basement of our Long Island home to running a multimillion-dollar hotel and apartment conglomeration. He went from being the son of a man who
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Blog post*This is the first of four essays dealing with the death of a parent We met in August 2014 in Bar Harbor in a hotel room overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Even though he was getting dialysis twice a week for end stage kidney failure and was noticeably weak, he braved the trip from Florida. He knew it would be his last time in Maine, one of his favorite places. “When the doctor tells me I have to go on dialysis three times a week, I
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Blog postI am the author of five novels and am writing this post to examine one year selling my books on Amazon to see what I did right and what I did wrong in my quest to build a fan base, and to help other independent authors. To begin my unofficial scientific experiment, I have donned a lab coat and a Sherlock Holmes’ cap, test tubes are brimming over with white, dense bubbles in my laboratory, and I have formulated the following question: As a self-published author, how is it best to utilize Amazon
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