Cameron DeCessna's Blog

For those fans of my character, Jordan Dare, the guy who sees gay ghosts and helps them solve their murders, today -- Halloween -- is Jordan's birthday. If you read Jordan Dare and the Kidnapped Ghost, you'll know more about his rare talent and in the next two books, J.D. and the Tolchester Ghost and J.D. and the Captive Spirit you'll learn even more how Jordan's life was changed by being born on Halloween.

If you want, drop me an email at [email protected] and I'll be happy to chat with you about the Dare novels and another book in the works that deals with more Halloween references. In fact, here in my blog is a sample of that very book. Read below for more about the upcoming novel, Children of the Weirwood.

Boo and happy holidays.

If you've read any of my books and would like to correspond with me concerning them please note the following e-address: [email protected]
I'll be happy to answer questions, read comments, welcome input. If you want to chat with me about upcoming books or those I have in the works, I'll be happy to correspond. Thanks and have a great holiday season in November & December.

Cameron DeCessna has just released a new novel --- his first romantic gay story. Two Souls, Forever One is set in Jacksonville, Florida in the early 1980s when public perceptions of gay couples were still uncertain and controversial. It is the story of two men in their early twenties, Chris Walker, and Walt Bower who have been, shy, ashamed and secretive all their lives. Both have had a difficult time accepting their true nature and developing a meaningful relationship with other gay men. It’s a happy and uplifting story of how two highly intelligent young men meet, fall in love, come out to their parents and form a family. As their loving relationship grows, they both serve as mentors to a gay teenager whose parents fully embrace their son’s sexual identity. The boy, Sebastian, who longs to find a boyfriend of his own, meets Walt’s fourteen-year-old cousin Arthur during a vacation trip to Kentucky and learns they were born on the same day. They soon discover they share much more, for Arthur guards a secret about his own sexual orientation. The novel tells of Sebastian and Arthur’s blossoming love as they discover together who they really are. The story’s title serves to describe both the love shared by Walt and Chris as well as that shared by their two younger protégés, Arthur and Sebastian. This is a warm and tender look at young love both for the two twenty-something adults and their teenaged companions. The story is one of humor, heartache and all the common emotions of young love. As with all of Cameron DeCessna’s books, you’re guaranteed a happy ending at the close of this humorous, uplifting and warm story of two couples whose souls are entwined by the power of love. The book contains some sexually explicit content but is suitable for older teenagers, especially if they are gay. Two Souls, Forever One is available through Amazon/Kindle Publishing.
https://www.amazon.com/s?k=Books+by+C...

Hi,
I am about to release my fifth novel. It should be available in early April and I certainly invite all of our members to check it out and let me know what you think. Like my other novels, it will be published with Amazon/Kindle. It is my first gay romance book and features a number of positive, sensitive and upbeat characters and ends happily. It is set in Jacksonville, Florida in the early eighties. Hope you all can read it and let me know what you think. Don't forget my other four books. Clay Parker: Growing up Gay in 1953 has been doing pretty well and I've gotten nothing but positive feedback concerning it.

I had planned to release another novel: Children of the Weirwood but hit a few snags and it might be mid-summer before that book is ready for publication. It will be worth the wait, I promise and will have a direct tie in with my Jordan Dare series. A number of my upcoming works will center in and around the alternate, magical world of The Weir. If you want to learn more, read the Dare series and especially book three where Jordan Dare crosses over into the Weir to save his companion Andrew.

I'll soon add more about Two Souls, Forever One as soon as I get it sent off to Amazon.

As promised, here is a first chapter sample from my upcoming novel, Children of the Weirwood which has a direct tie-in with my Jordan Dare Trilogy. Let me know what you think and if you do, I'll send you a few more chapters if you agree to read and review them while giving me feedback and sharing your interest.

Children of the Weirwood
by Cameron De Cessna

Copyright 2019, All Rights Reserved

Chapter 1

October 30, 1950
Darkwood Hollow, West Virginia
Katrina Borglin lumbered along a winding road on the eastern slopes of Mount Storm above Darkwood Hollow, West Virginia, in her rusty, 1941 Ford. Thirteen-year-old Vance Hawthorn rode beside her, his rickety bicycle rattling in the back seat where he'd managed to stow it before they left her home outside the village of Darkwood. He'd clattered recklessly down the mountainside at breakneck speed and pounded on her door a little before eleven o'clock that night to tell her his mother was in labor. As the town midwife, Katrina was familiar with unusual hours and calls. She told him to stuff his bike in the back seat of the car while she grabbed her bag of necessities.
As they got underway, she asked, "When did you say your mother started her labor?"
"About ten o'clock, Ma'am. Daddy sent me off straight away to get you. She was feelin' poorly at suppertime but started feelin' terrible pains about nine. It was about ten when Daddy said her water might break at any time, and to go get you."
"Well, Vance, hopefully, she's managed to hold off long enough for us to get there. I'm hopin' too that she has the baby quick, 'cause I have another lady on the other side of the hollow that's expectin' too. She had false pains last night and I sat with her for nearly five hours before she stopped having contractions. It'll be my bad luck, and hers too, if she decides to have her baby tonight."
"Who else is having a baby, Miss Borglin?" asked the skinny youth.
"Weena Hansen, Rathmon Hansen's wife. She's not in the best of health either, as she caught the scarlet fever two years ago and it left her weak as a kitten. She should never have risked having another baby. I warned her just after she got over the fever and told her husband to ease off awhile and not get her pregnant, but you know how some men are."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"How old are you now, Vance?"
"I'm thirteen. I'll be havin' a birthday in a couple of weeks and turn fourteen."
"Won't be long before you're courtin' the girls too, I suppose. See if you can keep from getting one pregnant, at least 'till you're old enough to get hitched. I suppose you know the particulars of how that comes about."
"I sorta do Ma'am. I have friends who've told me some things," The boy snickered and grinned, although it was too dark for the midwife to see his face in the dark. Off in the distance, they heard thunder and nearly at the same moment the car shook from a gust of wind.
"Merciful heavens, that's just what I need tonight on top of two birthins. A damned storm!" grumbled the troubled midwife. "These roads are dangerous enough in good weather let alone in a damned thunderstorm." Almost in answer to her complaint, heavy rain began to pelt the windshield and another gust of wind shook the old car. "Damn it! I was afraid of that. I see why they say it don't rain but it pours. What a night!"
They were less than a half mile from the boy's house when hail joined the driving rain and one burst of lightning after another clashed over and around the car. The road was slick and twice the wind caused the old Ford to slip a bit on the gravel and tar surface. Katrina cursed under her breath about late night babies and thunderstorms as she leaned closer to the steering wheel in an effort to better see the road ahead as the windshield wipers beat a monotonous tune, in their futile battle to clear the glass.
"Our road's just ahead, ma'am. There --- you can see the mailbox."
Vance's warning came just in time for Katrina to turn right, off the mountain road. In the storm, it would have been so easy to miss it. She followed a short, rutted, dirt road through the woods and up to the Hawthorn house where it perched in a rare level spot surrounded by old growth hardwoods. The small but well-kept home was located on the side of Mount Storm not far from the Littleton Mine where Kaplin Hawthorn labored. It was one of the numerous deep-shaft coal mines in Darkwood Hollow. Just as they pulled up at the house there was a blinding flash of lightning and a terrible crash of thunder as a blue-white finger of sky-fire struck the power pole just to the right of the one-story house. The electric lights inside winked out leaving the place in total darkness.
"What next?" grumbled Katrina. "Bad enough to have to drag myself out to help birth a baby in a storm, now I gotta work in the dark." Inside there was a flicker of light as someone lit a lantern or candle. As they tried to cover themselves and exit the car, several other lights were lit inside. Katrina and Vance ran through mud and gravel toward the front porch and finally reached its shelter. It did little good, for the wind was driving the rain almost horizontally beneath the porch roof. Only after they struggled through the front door was it possible to escape the cold rain and stinging hail.
Eight-year-old Daniel Hawthorn met them wide-eyed and pointed toward a hallway. "Mama's in there," he was sobbing, "I think she's dying. She's been hollerin' somethin' awful! Please help her! Daddy's with her. Please, Midlady, don't let her die!"
"Quiet child. You're mama's not dying. She's having a baby and it hurts like the dickens. Now you stay out here. Can you get some water boiling on the stove for me? Think you can manage that? If not, you'll have to do it, Vance. I need boiling water to clean my instruments."
The eight-year-old said, "I been keeping water boiling on the gas stove. Daddy said you'd need it when you got here."
"Well, I'll be. Finally, someone had enough sense to do that much. Vance, you get the pot of water and bring it to your mama's room and Danny, you get me a stack of clean towels if you have 'em."
"Yes, Ma'am." said both boys as they scurried off to do her bidding.
The midwife entered the bedroom where Kaplin Hawthorn sat holding his wife's hand. She was sweating and looked nearly worn out, but managed a smile. "Thanks for coming so quick, Kat, I think it'll be coming soon. My water broke about twenty minutes ago. What time is it now, Kaplin?"
He took a watch from his pocket and held it near the lantern to the left of the bed and said, "It's half past eleven. You've been at it nearly three hours, sweetheart. Probably seems like a day or two. You're doing fine, honey. Miss Borglin, thanks for coming. Sorry, it's such a hellish night." To his wife, he said, "Miss Borglin will take over now, honey and you'll be fine."
Katrina ushered Vance and Danny from the room as soon as they brought in the hot water pot and clean linens. "Don't go far, Vance, in case I need something else. Put another kettle on to boil, Danny. That's a good boy. I hope you have a coal or gas stove and not one of those new 'lectric ranges, Kaplin," she told the anxious husband who remained by his wife's side.
"It's gas, I got rid of the damned coal stove. I see enough of that filthy crap in the mines every day."

On the opposite side of the valley, a similar scene was unfolding, however; Weena Hansen was in severe distress. She too was in full labor and nearly delirious with pain and fatigue. Her husband Rathmon was walking the floor and cursing the midwife. He'd driven two miles to a neighbor's house to use their phone to call Miss Borglin but got no answer even though he lingered for nearly a half hour and kept trying. Finally, he asked the neighbors to please keep trying to reach Katrina and tell her of his wife's need before returning to his home.
His children, Lorena and Quinn, were nearly frantic as they listened to their poor mother crying out in pain while waiting for their father's return. It was 1950 and Darkwood Hollow, West Virginia was simply too small and too remote to have the services of a doctor. The nearest hospital was forty-odd miles to the northeast in Keyser, West Virginia. Her labor had begun quickly with little warning and if he'd only known in time, Rathmon would have driven her to Keyser, but now a storm was roaring through the valley and she was too far along to risk moving her. He would have to do the best he could on his own.
After returning, he recalled what the midwife did at the time of his daughter Lorena's birth six years before and boiled some tools he might need for the birth. He had scissors and twine for the cord, towels, extra sheets, and a clean, sharp knife as well as sewing needles and thread in the event of severe tearing or, God forbid, some worse complication. It was almost twelve o'clock and the storm was viciously pounding the house like hammers and still, his wife's contractions went on and on. When would the damned child come? he thought.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the valley, midwife Katrina was proceeding well. Marnie Hawthorn dilated as the baby entered the birth canal. It was nearly midnight before the child's head crested. "Two or three more contractions should do the trick," Katrina told Marnie. "Bear down, sweety! It's almost over. Just a little more pushing and you'll have your baby. Come on honey, deep breath in --- hold it --- now deep breath out. Next time you feel a contraction, push like hell and we'll get on with this."
Kaplin checked his watch as the old clock in the living room began to strike midnight. His wife felt the next contraction begin and pushed as hard as she could. Just as the final stroke of midnight sounded, the baby slipped into the world with a gush of blood and mucus. Simultaneously, lightning struck the house and luminous fingers of static electricity danced all over the darkened room. Blue white tendrils of energy passed over and around the iron head of the bed. Kaplin, his wife, Marnie and Katrina all felt their hair rise up with the static charge. A single tiny spark of electricity jumped from the iron, footrail of the bed and struck the still silent child in the midwife's arms. The child cried out and took his first breath in his new world.
The child was a boy; a stream of urine burst from his tiny penis and spattered to the floor. The midwife chuckled and said to the family, "It's a boy and he's just had the piss shocked out of him. Good thing he's all right. One of those sparks struck his leg. Let me get this cord tied off and cut so you can hold your baby boy, Marnie."
She went about her work and soon the squalling boy was wiped partially dry with a soft cloth and handed to his mama. She took him to her breast and he started to suck greedily. Soon he was quiet and Marnie looked up with a radiant glow about her face. Her husband leaned down and gave her a kiss and stroked the soft blond hair of their newborn with two fingers. The midwife checked and was happy to see that Marnie's afterbirth passed and there was no sign of continued bleeding. She cleaned up as best she could and covered the woman before calling in the other two children to see their new brother.
After he'd suckled for a few minutes while Katrina cleaned up, Marnie raised him from her breast and looked him over counting fingers and toes; he seemed perfect. Kaplin raised the lantern high above the child so his siblings, who'd entered and drawn close could get a good look at their new brother. As the lantern light fell on his face, the child opened his eyes for the first time. His left eye was a brilliant emerald green while his right was deep azure blue. Just two inches below his genitals on the inner side of his left thigh was a strange purple mark in the shape of a seven-pointed star.
Eight-year-old Danny said, "He's got a star on his leg, Mommy."
The midwife gasped and said, "I'll be. That's exactly where the lightning hit him. Is it a burn?" She looked closer and found it to be not a burn, but a one-inch diameter, port wine birthmark. It was a perfect, seven-pointed star, as accurate as one drawn by an artist. The whole family looked perplexed as they stared at the little boy's unusual mark and exotic, bright eyes. His tiny face broke into a smile and he burped.
Marnie spoke to her newborn, "Well, we said if you were a boy we would call you Timothy Lee Hawthorn, so my little man, that's your new name. Welcome to the world, Timmy."

Across the valley, also on the last stroke of midnight, Weena Hansen screamed in pain as her new child slipped from her body and entered the world. A bolt of lightning struck the house. As it was happening in the Hawthorn house across the valley, fingers of static electricity swept through the Hansen's bedroom striking the furniture and bed where the mother lay. Rathmon was holding his child as a small finger of lightning struck the infant's right inner thigh, just below his privates. The child cried and took his first breath. His small penis spewed urine toward his father. The newborn was covered with clots of bright fresh blood and mucus and was pale blue in color from his ordeal, but seemed to be turning pink as oxygen filled his tiny lungs.
The power was still on at the Rathmon house and as the child opened his eyes, his father saw their unusual color. The baby's right eye was vivid green while his left was electric blue. Rathmon Hansen felt a sense of disgust at the unusual colors and thrust the dark-haired boy toward Quinn, his eight-year-old son, to hold while he tended to the umbilical cord. His wife was exhausted and gasping from the strain of the birth. From below, a rivulet of bright, fresh blood was flowing from her vagina and soaking the sheets. Her complexion was pale and her breathing labored. Rathmon felt a stab of fear as he saw the blood and his wife's pallor. This could not be good. He hurried to tie and cut the cord. It was nearly ten minutes before the afterbirth passed. He hoped she would stop bleeding after that, but still a trickle of fresh blood persisted.
The child's eight-year-old brother was doing his best to wipe the tiny boy clean and was the first to notice the unusual mark on the boy's right inner thigh. "Daddy, look. He's got a star on his leg."
"What? Where?" Rathmon looked where his son was pointing and remembered the small lightning bolt had struck the child there.
"Huh. Lightning musta burnt him. Strange mark; it's a perfect seven-pointed star. That's mighty queer. It's downright unnatural."
"What are we gonna call him, Daddy?" asked the boy.
Weena, his mother, managed to speak. "Bring him to me, so I can hold him. He's probably hungry. Here, let me see him. Oh, God, Rath, he's beautiful. That's it, little one, you know what to do. Yes indeed, he's happy now. Mama's got lots of milk for her little sweetheart." She smiled as the child sucked at her left breast. "Quinn, we agreed if it was a boy to call him Markus Lee Hansen, after his granddaddy. You hear that, baby Markus? We'll call you Mark for short, sweetums." Just then her face twisted in agony as she gasped, "Ohhhh, Rath, something's wrong! I hurt inside so much! I might have to see a doctor. I think you need to get me to a doctor. I'm feelin' so weak."
Rathmon bundled up his wife and newborn and drove the fifty-six miles to the hospital in Keyser that night where she was admitted and tended to by the doctors and staff. Much internal damage had been done, however, and the doctors told Rathmon that his wife was in serious danger. They told him the child was frail but fine. One doctor assured Rathmon the unusual star was a port wine birthmark and not a burn.
Three days later, poor Weena lost her battle and passed away. Rathmon was driven nearly mad by his loss and looked upon little Mark as the cause of his wife's death. It was all he could do for some time to even touch the child or tend to it. Most of the child's care was given by his six-year-old sister, his eight-year-old brother and his wife's unmarried sister, Betty, who moved in a few days later to help the family.

My best wishes go out to all this New Year's Day. Thought I'd add a bit to my blog to let everyone know what my writing plans and goals are for the coming months of 2019.
I'm working on the final edit of a novel whose working title is "Couples" as it tells the story of two couples whose lives are intertwined. The first is in their early twenties, while the second pair is in their mid-teens. I'm hoping to release it in February or March. It will be the second of my Coming-of-Age books and is set in the 80s while Clay Parker, Growing Up Gay in 1953, is obviously set in a much earlier decade.
Also in the works is a novel that ties in with the Jordan Dare Trilogy. Its title will be Children of the Weirwood and involves my alternate fantasy world, The Weir. Those of you who have read the Dare Trilogy (especially Jordan Dare and the Captive Spirit) will know about the Weir. Two of its peripheral characters, Tim Hawthorn and Mark Hanson, play a small part in Jordan's adventure there.
Children of the Weirwood tells their story, literally from their unusual and mystical birth through their adolescence as they learn of the Weir and their destiny to become Spirit Twins who will learn to use magic both there and back on earth.
Following this post, I will give you a taste of the first chapter which tells of their birth on Halloween night, years before they meet Jordan Dare while in their twenties. Read it and let me know what you think. For those who respond, I'll give you sneak peeks of several more chapters, if you agree to review them and give me feedback.
Well, again I wish you all a wonderful 2019.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good read.
I went through some very difficult times in my life recently and for many years I was unable to come home. This is the first Christmas in many in which I am in my own home in North Central Florida. I live in the woods along a clay road in Putnam County, Florida, about 18 miles from the city of Palatka. Palatka is located along the beautiful (and clean) Saint Johns River. My home is in Interlachen, 18 miles to the west and if one continues on toward Gainesville (where I graduated with a BS in Education way back in 1976) one will see a turnoff along the way directing one to Cross Creek. There, Florida's most famous author wrote her memorable novels in a small bungalow located between two lakes. I'm referring, of course, to Marjorie Rawlings, Pulitzer Prize-winning author of, The Yearling, Cross Creek, Golden Apples and Jacob's Ladder. I visited her home on many occasions with my parents back in the early to mid-seventies and plan to visit again soon. Now, as a published writer I wish to once again pay homage to one of the great ladies of literature. I may soon include a few photos I took back then once I locate them. Her story, The Yearling, was made into a wonderful motion picture starring Gregory Peck, Jane Wyman and a young Claude Jarmain, Jr. who was perfect for the role of Jody. I still cry every time I watch the film. If you haven't seen the movie or read the book, I urge you to do so. I'd include it in my personal list of the ten best American Novels of the 20th Century.
I was raised in the Episcopal Church and believe in the Christian tenants of Love One Another and Do Unto Others..., but I'm not yet a regular church-goer. Having just returned home, I've yet to make contact with my church, Saint Andrews, in Interlachen. I will soon, however. Being gay, I am so proud of the Episcopal Church for the way it has embraced gender equality from the start of the gay liberation movement, being one of the first major churches to permit their clergy (men and women alike) to become priests. They too were the first to elect an openly gay bishop and today most Episcopal churches host LGBT programs and activities. I abhor any church that preaches intolerance toward anyone who is different whether they be gay, lesbian, black, Moslem, etcetera as the list goes sadly on. If God truly exists, then He made us just the way He wanted us. I deal with this theme in my book, Clay Parker: Growing Up Gay in 1953. I might add that Jordan Dare's lover and life companion is Andrew Lawson, an Episcopal Priest. You can read more about them in my Jordan Dare Trilogy. In the second book, Jordan Dare and the Tolchester Treasure, I center much of the plot around my hometown of Cumberland, Maryland and the Episcopal Church where I was Christened back in 1951. I'll include a few photos of the church today as well.
I really need to wrap this up today as I have a Christmas dinner to prepare. A number of friends are joining me today to not only celebrate the holiday but also my return home after many years of forced exile. Again, may the spirit of Christmas fill your hearts and minds with love and joy. This is not the only time it is important to love one another. We all must strive to do so for the rest of our lives.
All my love and thanks,
Cameron DeCessna

This first posting will be a bit short as I want to get a start without writing a novel. Wait a minute --- that's what I do. A blog, however, is my chance to crawl out of the pages of one of my stories and touch the minds and lives of my loyal readers. That, to me, is just as vital as writing my books.
Over the past six years, I have worked on a number of novels and finally now that I have the time to pursue writing more extensively, I have begun to finalize and release my stories. The first, as you may know, was Jordan Dare and the Kidnapped Ghost. Its original title was Jordan Dare: A Complicated Life, but that title went nowhere. In case you see that title advertised somewhere, don't buy it. It's the same as Jordan Dare and the Kidnapped Ghost. The whole idea of a Kidnapped Ghost caught my fancy as it is somewhat of an oxymoron. How in the hell do you kidnap a ghost? They're rather hard to hold onto. But Freddie, the teenager in that book who is indeed kidnapped and then killed makes an appearance before Jordan Dare, the one guy who has the gift for seeing and talking to ghosts --- but only gay ghosts. Freddie, being gay and needing someone to avenge his murder is somehow sent to Jordan and the plot takes off from there. So --- back to the title change. The Kidnapped Ghost better catches the eye of a prospective buyer as well as suggests a mystery, to begin with.
The two books that follow, Jordan Dare and the Tolchester Ghost and Jordan Dare and the Captive Spirit simply complete the tale. While complete in themselves, in each of the first two books, there is a thread left dangling that is finely woven into the tapestry of Dare's life in the conclusive novel Jordan Dare and the Captive Spirit.
Those were my first releases and are novels for everyone to enjoy. Yes, they do have a gay protagonist, but there are no steamy sex scenes and sex plays a very small part in their plot. Love, however, plays a major part because the love Jordan has for his partner, Andrew, drive the plot. (Spoiler Alert!!) Andrew seems to be dead which of course breaks Jordan's heart, but as the three stories develop, Jordie learns that Drew may not be dead, but rather may be in a coma or rendered senseless somewhere. In the final book Jordan Dare and the Captive Spirit, he learns that Drew is held unconscious in another world --- the Weir. Andrew is the Captive Spirit who must be rescued.
The next release was the first of my gay coming-of-age novels. There will be others, by the way. Clay Parker examines what it might be like to realize you're gay --- or queer, as it was termed back then --- in 1953. Clay Parker: Growing Up Gay in 1953 is the result and, unlike the Dare books, does contain some rather sexually explicit scenes. It has to for I look at the wonders of sexual discovery through the eyes and mind of a fourteen-year-old of that era. Clay has a lot of problems already; he's an orphan living with an abusive aunt and uncle, he was severely burned in the fire that killed his parents and little brother, and he has no one to turn to for answers about his strange thoughts and sexual discoveries. The novel has a happy ending, I'm pleased to say as that is the kind of book I like to read as well as write. If you haven't read Clay Parker... please do so. Have a handkerchief nearby. I do as I write because I really get emotional as I tell my characters' stories. They are like my children. I love them with all their flaws and foibles. I even love the bad, nasty characters, for, without them, my good guys wouldn't have the problems that make them so interesting.
My next release will probably be in early 2019 and will be a tale set in the Weir, that alternate fantasy world readers learn of in Jordan Dare and the Captive Spirit. It will tell the story of two West Virginia boys, born the same night (Halloween --- no less), struck by lightning and marked with a seven-pointed star-shaped birthmark and mixed-color eyes. They meet each other when five and are drawn together by their eyes and common birthmarks. Later, being gay, they fall in love but only after learning they are special and able to enter an entirely different world called the Weir where magic is common and they have been destined to become Spirit Twins. There's much more to tell, of course, but you will have to wait for the book's release in the coming year.
For now, I will sign out, wish you all a wonderful Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza or Winter Solstice --- whichever applies. Happy New Year to all and to all a good read.