Tag Archive | "L.C.Frenzel"

Excerpt “Twin Scepters”

go to http://www.lunarianepic.com/ for more details.

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Chapter 1: Home!

My birth mother insisted that my real name is Claire Ellen Fisher. That’s a lie; I’m a Miller. Just because my father was lost in Iraq doesn’t mean she was entitled to force her maiden name on me and abandon my father’s memory. By a quirk of fate, I am also known as Queen Claire of Lunaria. It’s a long story and I was very young when this began. I begin to think it was all a dream.

They say that home is where the heart is. When I first walked with Pem into Lunaria, I thought of Ridgeville, Texas as my real home. After a while I thought of Greyhaven in southern Lunaria as my real home and Astora Garrund, Gilbert’s widowed daughter, as a surrogate parent, and now, as a married woman about to produce children, I think of the Palace in Lumminea as the place where Pemburton Windover, my husband and King, will build our more-or-less permanent nest. I expect to spend the rest of my days thinking of this as my real home.

After losing my father, my much-missed Grandmother Miller seemed to take over my education from my mother, who didn’t seem much interested in me. As I remember it, Grandmother prepared me for most everything in my life—even this displacement. My story can be confusing, so I mostly don’t talk about myself. Except for a few strange talents and prodigious good fortune in marrying Pem, I prefer to think of myself as a rather ordinary person.

Although I am married to the King, I remain a Lady of the Realm. Everything I personally own or control is near the capitol. My personal property, my estate vineyards, are close at hand where I can keep watch over my vintner who so far has done an excellent job. In keeping with tradition and fortunate coincidence, I sell a great deal of my finest wines to the Royal Cellars which are overseen by my father-in-law and former Regent, Edward Godwyn. I’ve added fields of flowers that sell in their season in the capitol at a good profit. None of this would be possible without my Lady companion, Tess of Tribana, who handles my accounts and helps Gilbert keep a close eye on the Royal treasury. Everything else belongs to the King, which is to say, the State. Even the gold ring on my finger belongs to the State. Life is good, if complicated.

When I say that life is good, in large part I am talking about my friendship with Gilbert Greybaird, widely known as Lord Greybaird of Greyhaven, who has been my staunch friend since my second day in Lunaria. Among other things, as a close friend to the Regent and prior Queen, he raised Pem in lieu of Pem’s father, Edward. Pem’s mother, Queen Rachael, was killed leading troopers against a border raid, and her consort, Edward Godwyn, as the actual Regent, drank too much and seemed generally too unreliable to raise the future heir of the nation. Knowing Edward as I do, I doubt that was more than a convenient façade which allowed both men to keep an eye on the Great Council. There’s a lot of unproven palace gossip about Gilbert’s relationship with the Queen. I really don’t care. My cultural background in Texas, as exemplified by my Grandmother, was quite liberal on these points. I’d have to say that Gilbert did a credible job of raising my husband. Pem is generous by nature, kind towards women—though occasionally too friendly in my way of thinking—and dedicated to the future of his people. I’d also say he is inclined to be charmingly naïve, stubborn, and apt to take what people tell him at face value if it pleases him. Also, he is inclined to listen to my proposed populist ideas.

As Gilbert so often reminds me as our official Privy Counselor, that is where my job begins. I seem to have lots of jobs.

Mags pretends to be my faithful maid. She may be admirably attentive to my needs—at least those she considers needs and not whims—but she is anything but a maid. While she may perform these duties, she is actually a transplant from Gilbert’s security services, one of his palace operatives who form the backbone of his network. I rely on her more as my friend and confidant than someone who takes care of my appointments and folds my clothes. She has set out to find me the perfect Nanny for my upcoming change in situation. She also keeps a seamstress occupied letting out my gowns and making me look less like a hippopotamus and more like a Queen worthy to stand by the King.

Pem, to my delight, has taken into employ a personal aid—someone to see about his clothes, his grooming, and other details of a man’s life that he desires to keep separate from me, his wife. It is strange to me, but I accept the choice as part of the way men are brought up in this society.

Egan is a slender, dapper man, dark hair parted in the middle with a few gray threads, and always neatly dressed, much like a male equivalent of my Mags, though I don’t think he is as smart as my assistant. His long thin nose divides his face and makes his eyes look close together and less alert, but this is an illusion for I have noticed that Egan, like Mags, sees everything.

I made an addition to my personal retinue while we were visiting with our good friends, the Ranapuis, in Ranaputkin. I received a petition from Sidra Ranapui’s daughter, Ribecah, to become a companion or Lady-in-Waiting. I accepted, even though Sidra was somewhat against it. She thought—with some justification—that she would be putting her daughter in danger being close to me.

Ribecah resembles her mother in many ways. She is fair of skin, with large, exotic green eyes, and glossy black hair pulled back and pinned up on the nape of her neck. She is slender, but not as delicate as her mother.

I had promised to look after Ribecah, and I have. One of the reasons for this decision was that I detected in Ribecah a latent talent to use the nanites that infest this world. It’s what makes my Healer’s Sight, as my friend, Sage Leandra, calls my ability to visualize the microscopic and open strange channels of communication. To others, I have been known as the Hands of the Healer. I should explain that it isn’t my ability at all to do these repair-things. The magic-like talent is nothing more than interacting with these microscopic nanites. It’s something to do with the individual’s genes. Lunarians have lost all knowledge of these things—except for a few scruffy peasant types like me who happens to come from a technologically advanced world.

My plan is to assign Ribecah to Tess who has so far refused to consider someone like Mags in her service. Tess, who normally has such remarkable clear sight, misjudges her importance to me. I know that Gilbert greatly desires the placement of someone in Tess’s household who will function as Mags does in mine. Ribecah would do nicely, though not in Mags’ role, but in the role of shared companionship and a measure of protection. Ribecah is accomplished with the sword, though not so good as Tess, and four eyes are better than two when there is your backside to consider. As Tess has pointed out to me, not even the Palace is entirely safe.

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Published Twin Sceptors- Lunaria Cycle 2015-01-05

L.C. Frenzel just released the 6th Volume in the Lunaria Cycle- “The Twin Scepters” on Amazon in eformat. The Brief plot is:

The twins, Burton and Edward, are born to Claire and Pem. Tess and Royard have Fitz. The three babies are inseparable. Pem, as King of Lunaria, supports programs that help the population, while the Council plot to gain complete control over the economy. Claire, with the aid of a local Magister, begins to set up schools based on merit, not privilege. First Councilor Torvall Garrund, spurred by the influence of Dark Sage Jallis Ruffin, sends out a warrant to arrest Queen Claire for treason. With Gilbert’s help, Pem and Claire, Tess and Royard, flee with their three babies.

go to http://www.lunarianepic.com/ for more details.

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Chronology of Lunaria Epic

Orange Cat

Claire Ellen Fisher meets Pemburton Windover and crosses over into Lunaria. After the Battle of Tribana, Lord Gilbert Greybaird selects Tess as Claire’s companion.   X’Tlan Trader Rissa Ellendor gives Claire a matching amulet. Claire travels to Greyhaven where Sage Leandra says she is to change the world.   The Garden at Greyhaven is more than just a garden. Claire begins to use her Healer’s Sight. Pem returns to the Capitol, Lumminea, in training to become the Monarch, but asserts that Claire is his true love. A war breaks out between Tieben and Lunaria


Sword of Training Claire and Tess travel to Lumminea for the Winter Ball. Dark Sage Jallis Ruffin plots against the monarchy and Lunaria. Pem plans to announce betrothal intents to Claire. Abducted from the Winter Ball, Tess and Claire end up in Dark Tower with deposed King Cornal Hushara of Tieben, who gives Claire an object of power, the Sword of Training.In Norcross, Turlo Murten, as guide and trader, is hired to take Tess and Claire to Trapper’s Haven.

N’rat aids Claire in releasing Turlo and Tess from captivity by Captain Dread.

Pem has a nightmare where Claire is threatened by a swordsman who is running her down.


Forgotten Garden Claire, Tess, and Turlo meet Mara and Rissa Ellendor at Timbermill. Rissa and Turlo realize that they are meant for each other. Turlo reveals that he is the intended heir to the Throne of Tieben.As Pem rushes to meet them, he finds himself with a Household Prognosticator, who relates the ancient story of Prince Redhorn.

Pem and Claire, Tess and Royard, Rissa and Turlo leave on the Redclaw to return to Lumminea, when they are attacked. The band of companions separate. Turlo and Rissa are left to run the Redclaw through a burning fire on the river.

Tess meets Ayaba the Monk on their way to Darkwood. Tess awakens the One Mother, and the Dark Forest begins to change. Tess receives the gift of True Sight


Claire and Pem Claire Fisher and Pemberton Windover are married in Lumminea and fall in love. Their official reign begins as they leave on what they hope will be a perfect honeymoon with a tour of the Kingdom. On the Southern Beaches. Claire finds herself pregnant. Danger follows them to the city of Ranaputkin where sword practice proves to be more dangerous than Claire anticipates.
Rissa and Turlo While Claire and Pem are on their Royal tour, Rissa and Turlo set off with ensign N’Rat to convince Turlo’s Uncle that if Turlo Murten is confirmed as the King’s successor, then Rissa Ellendor, will consent to marry Turlo and bring the full force of the X’tlan’s Trader’s empire behind the throne. In the Dark Tower, deposed King Cornal Hushara gives the Shield of Balance to Rissa.Rissa meets with an Oracle and accepts the Warrior Sight. Turlo’s cousin, Tiela Snowborn, gives Rissa the “Golden Acorn”, a key to the Heartwood.

After meeting with Turlo’s parents and King Cornal Hushara, Rissa and Turlo are betrayed by Cornal’s security agent to Dark Sage Jallis Ruffin. Rissa and Turlo are set adrift to die in a small boat.

Twin Scepters The twins, Burton and Edward, are born to Claire and Pem. Tess and Royard have Fitz.   The three babies are inseparable.Pem, as King of Lunaria, supports programs that help the population, while the Council plot to gain complete control over the economy.

Claire, with the aid of a local Magister, begins to set up schools based on merit, not privilege.

First Councilor Torvall Garrund, spurred by the influence of Dark Sage Jallis Ruffin, sends out a warrant to arrest Queen Claire for treason.

With Gilbert’s help, Pem and Claire, Tess and Royard, flee with their three babies.

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The Lunarian Epic, Volume 4, Claire and Pem

Lydia and Charles Frenzel ( pen name L.C. Frenzel) announce the pre-publication of “Claire and Pem” on Amazon Kindle in mid-December.

In Volume 4, Claire and Pem marry and fall in love.  They enter into the pleasures of marriage and together learn more about the dangers they are to face as the Royal Couple.

Claire’s small changing of the wedding vows send ripples throughout the land. Their Wedding Day is greeted with great enthusiasm from the people, and not so great enthusiasm from certain Council members.

Pem and Claire leave the wedding festivities to begin their State visits to the Council members’ estates around Lunaria while the Council is adjoined for the summer and the council members are at home.

In their absence, Tess extends her influence to the Queen’s apartments, the King’s Brigade, and is attacked in the Royal’s private garden, a place, deep in the heart of the Palace, that should have been secured.

Their honeymoon on the Rachel Anne is an opportunity to plan with Rissa Ellender, Turlo Murten and Sage Leandra in relative seclusion. Tieben’s King Vernal Hushara and the Lunarian Council are seeking to form a monopoly that would create higher prices through artificial scarcity and tight government controls. The control the people have over the Council would be diminished, if not destroyed. The Monarchy, who represents the will of the people, is threatened.

Rissa and Turlo leave to undertake their own hazardous adventures in Tieben to strengthen Turlo’s claim as heir to the throne of Tieben and to curtail the conspiracy of back-room deals that threatens not only the hard fought peace between the two monarchies but the trader’s existence.

After relaxing on the Southern Beaches, Pem and Claire face an attack on the Rachael Ann.  Is no place safe?

Arriving in Ranaputkin, Pem and Claire’s official visits begin with the Ranapuis and Putkins who occupy two of the Council seats. There is time to relax. Slowly they learn more about who supports them and who is hostile.

Who is with them, and who is not?

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Finally Published “Governor Lydia – A Mellow Rose from Texas”

Charles and Lydia Frenzel finished a long-term project of over 10 years. Frenzel published “Governor Lydia – A Mellow Rose from Texas”  in print and eformat.  This is one-fourth of the story of Rotary adventures as seen from Charles’, the partner’s, viewpoint. Charles kept a dairy of the Rotary years and ended with about 1000 pages.  This has been trimmed to 500 pages.  He waited for Lydia to “fill in” from my viewpoint, so we would have the “flip” side.  We each had very different journeys and experiences.

 We publish under the name “L.C. Frenzel” for Lydia and Charles Frenzel.  We have limited quantities of hard and soft cover books here at the office if you want an autographed copy.  The pricing varies from site to site ranging from  >ebook format- Amazon (with the lowest price)
>then by ordering copies from us or directly through “www.AuthorHouse.com” the just-in-time publisher,
>and finally from any Bookstore or on-line Book store (the highest price).

 Here are the ISBN numbers:  978-0-9828592-6-1(ebook);  978-1-4567-9433-0 (soft); 978-1-4567-9432-3 (hard). It helps to have ISBN numbers for reference.

 What we ask and plead for is for the reader to provide a REVIEW on fatsquirrelpublishing.com or amazon.com.

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The Loops begin to Close

Lawson Brewer glanced at his radar unit and shifted down into third. His green XJ220 Jaguar responded by leaping forward on IH 37 between Corpus Christi and San Antonio. Power poles began flipping backwards as his the speedometer crept up past 162 kilometers per hour—nearly a hundred miles per hour, Lawson estimated. He shifted into fifth gear and let the engine loaf. He had a clear three miles before he’d have to slow down to avoid the speed trap ahead of him.

He had his windows down, enjoying the whip of the wind and the sound of the pavement underneath the racing tires. Country music from a CD filled in the cracks in the audio. His wild white hair ruffled in the turbulence; he narrowed his gray eyes to slits as he scanned for slow traffic in the lanes ahead of him.

He had just come from two wonderful days in Corpus Christi where he had wandered the seaweed strewn beaches and spent money at five-star restaurants like Waterstreet in the center of the city. He’d expressed delight at the botanical gardens even though the collection had yet to recover from a recent drought. He had especially taken pleasure in the aquarium which he decided was world class, comparing it with some he’d seen in Europe and on the West Coast.

Lawson had wanted to plan a long vacation to satisfy his urge to return to his roots as a research biologist. In his early days, he had made important advances in the understanding of butterfly migration. After a decision to make a change in his life, he had been the owner of several night clubs where many of the most popular musicians often played. He’d made a small fortune, but ultimately he grew tired of the game. Recently, he had sold all but one of his places. He retained a silent partnership in a pub named the Rat’s Rest on South Congress in Austin, Texas. It was from these connections that he retained a finger on the many pulses of Texas politics—Texas pollution, he sometimes called it.

The car phone bleeped and Napolean Forest’s code number appeared on the special console under the satellite radio controls. Lawson let the Jag settle down to seventy-five, muted the music, and closed the windows. The car now rolled forward in silence.

“Tequila Sour.” Lawson’s voice was decoded and activated the link.

“Yes? What is it, Napoleon.” he followed up.

“A little puzzle for you,” Forest said. “It’s about a woman in Walfer Falls. Interested?”

“Depends,” Lawson answered.

“You’re aware that we’ve become interested in the movements of Schumflatt and his Free Range Party?”

“I’d heard,” Lawson answered.

“Then, you’ll know that we track inquiries on a man named Cabot Fleece—not his real name, by the way—who is a front man for Schumflatt’s fund raising campaign.”

“A petty criminal, I hear,” Lawson returned.

“But potentially dangerous,” Napoleon added. “A woman named Florence Duvan ran an inquiry on a credit card yesterday. She was searching for information on Fleece. I don’t know what the connection is, but it could be dangerous for her. Also, it could be very interesting to learn what Fleece is doing up in Walfer Falls. We hear strange rumors coming out of that area, but we haven’t been able to pin anything down.”

Napoleon went on, “I remembered you used to know Shorty Johnson when he played for the Cowboys… one of your player-investors before he was cut. Thought maybe you might get in touch. Ask him what he knows. I’m told he’d welcome a paycheck.”

Lawson thought about it. “I think I can do that,” he said. “I can reach you in the usual way?”

“We still maintain an account at Umerca Trust. Ask for Cameron Compton. He’ll expect your call. Use the discretionary funds. He’ll release the cash to you.”

“Right,” Lawson returned. “Anything else? How’s Jaqi Le Mans doing these days?”

“Driving like a maniac, as usual,” Napoleon returned. “You keep up with Marshal Griller?”

“He stops in at the Rat’s Rest now and then. He still introduces himself as Mr. Green,” Lawson told Napoleon. “I guess he still works for some agency, though he doesn’t mind doing background check on employees when I ask him. Peggy’s radio show is getting popular. She keeps promising me a plug for the Rat’s Rest.”

“Get back to me as soon as possible on Florence Duvan, will you? I have a bad feeling about what’s going on in Walfer Falls.” Napoleon broke the connection and Lawson drove on in the silence.

After a few minutes, he activated the phone and had the system dial Shorty’s number in Walfer Falls. Even though he hadn’t used it recently, he still monitored Shorty’s movements in case he should make enough money to pay back the money he owed Lawson. After about six rings, Shorty picked up.

“Shorty? Lawson Brewer here.”

“Yeah, I know it’s been ages. No, I’m not calling about your loan.”

“I may have a little job for you if you’ve got the time.”

“You know a Florence Duvan?”

“You’re dating her? That’s convenient. There’s a couple of things I’d like to know.”

“No, I don’t want her to know anything about me. Keep it simple.”



Readers are reminded that these posts are works of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or places is either purely coincidental or for fictional purposes.

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Part of a Secret Uncovered

The more Florence Duvan thought about the stranger who was interested in appraisal values, the more curious she became. He hadn’t mentioned his full name—just introduced himself as Cabot, which she assumed was his last name.

She mentioned her curiosity to Mildred, the owner of the pie shop across the street. “Everybody is asking me about that stranger who drives the Cadillac,” she said. “I don’t even know his name, much less understand why he’s looking at appraisal values in Walfor Falls.”

“I know what you mean,” Mildred said. “There isn’t any value here any more. The assessor was afraid to come to the council meeting last week. Things have gotten really bad for many folks.”

“If I knew his name I might be able to find out something about him and why he’s nosing around,” Florence said as she took another bite of a new marmalade pastry that Mildred was experimenting with. The nest of marmalade included a wild mustang grape half buried in the center. The burst of tart flavor from the wild grape was a wonderful contrast to the sweetness of the marmalade. “Mm, this is really good,” she told Mildred. “I think you should add this one to your daily special.”

“Guess it can’t hurt,” she looked around at her empty shop. “We’re so overwhelmed with customers.”

“School will be out soon, and then you’ll get some customers,” Florence said, trying to encourage her friend.

Mildred grinned, suddenly. “If you really think it might help the town, I think I can give you a clue about the Cadillac Man.”

She walked behind the counter and reached under the register, pulling out a box that she took back to their table. She opened the box, and Florence saw that it contained a large number of receipts with credit card billings attached.

“I know I should keep these locked up,” she said when she saw the look on Florence’s face. “There’s no one around her that would bother stealing them.” She dug through the pile and came up with a slip that she handed Florence with a triumphant flourish.

Florence examined the ticket. Cabot was his first name and Fleece was his surname—that and his credit card number would tell her all she needed to know. She thanked Mildred profusely, promised to keep her informed, stuffed the rest of the pastry in her mouth, and rushed back to the computer at her office.

An hour later, she sat back and grinned. The trail had been anything but straight. She discovered a Cabot Fleece who lived in Austin, Texas. The account number on the card was issued to a corporation which listed itself as Friends of the Free Range, an organization that Florence connected with a newly formed political party called the Free Range Party. Apparently, Friends was only one of several nonprofits listed as fund raisers for Craig Schumflatt, a man that Florence had heard was trying to decide whether or not to run for Governor.

Florence still had no idea why Cabot Fleece would be poking about in Walfer Falls, but it probably had something to do with the Free Range Party and Craig Schumflatt. Interesting.

She was about to go back across the street for another pastry and to tell Mildred her latest news when Shorty Johnson walked through the door with a big grin on his face.

“I’ve got some information for you,” he said. “It’ll only cost you an evening with me, and the steak will be the best rib eye in Walfer Falls.”

Florence eyed Shorty skeptically. “Where will this dinner date take place?” she asked.

Shorty blushed faintly. “Well, you can’t really buy a good steak in any of the local restaurants, so I was going to get some special cuts in Fort Worth. I thought I’d cook them on the grill in my backyard.”

Florence sighed. “I don’t know, Shorty. What’s this piece of information?”

The ex-coach narrowed his eyes. You’re not going to cheat on me, are you? If I tell you a little bit, perhaps you can make up your mind whether I’m worth it.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t want you to get that desperate,” she said.

“A man’s got to protect his reputation,” he smiled back. “Let’s just say it’s about a man named Cabot.”

“You mean Cabot Fleece,” Florence smile back at him, watching a disappointed look spread across the man’s face. “I already know all about him,” she said, deciding not to mention that she had only known for less than an hour.

“Do you think he’s really trying to buy up property for Schumflatt?” he asked.

“It isn’t clear to me,” Florence hedged. “I’m keeping my eye on it.”

“So, you won’t be wanting the rib eyes?” he looked hopeful.

“Go ahead and get you steaks,” she relented. “Mildred will bring her new pastries and I have a bottle of good wine put back. I’ll farm out the kids on Melanie and we can have a nice evening.”

She could tell that it wasn’t what Shorty had in mind. She was impressed to see how graciously he bowed to the inevitable and clapped his hand flat on the table and said, “Sure thing. We’ll have a great evening. What more could a man want that two attractive women, good food, and fine wine?”

The way he said it made Florence blush.

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