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From the Authors

Posted on November 4, 2013 at 10:00 PM Comments comments (0)

How Nicholas Became Santa Clause would make the perfect gift this Christmas.

Let us know you have purchased our book, we will send you a hand written personal thank you, or if you prefere a note to your intended gift reciepient. 

The color from the smoke faded and the picture unwound into thin threads of dissipating smoke. Prince Geldon stepped forward again. “Show us Zili of Illuminae.”


How Nicholas Became Santa Clause Instantly the smoke darkened, involuting at its center. But the color of the smoke turned red, the color of blood. At the center of the scrying smoke, the assembly saw the workshop of Thomas Clause. Tables, chairs, workbenches overturned, injured humans and Oddling lay on the floor. Gasping, the assembly remained silent. Recognizing the home of Tom Clause, Wallace sat forward on the stone, his right elbow on his knee, his fist clasped beneath his chin. A red headed soldier held Thomas Clause down by the side of his neck, his cheek mashed into a tabletop. “I know you are hiding Sarah here.” Zili growled, restless, pacing beside his red headed enforcer. Jax strolled the table thwacking Thomas around his upper body with a riding crop. Mary poured over Thomas, crying and pulling at Jax. Another soldier pulled her back. “The girl is nothing to you. She won’t care if you lived or died.” Zili lowered his face within an inch of Thomas’s. “Consider your family, your wife. Tell me where she is.” Zili grumbled, simpering trying to restrain himself. “And I will let you go.” He lifted an apple from the table and cut out a wedge with his knife. “If you do not, I shall slit this old winch’s throat.” Zili snickered, leveling the tip of his knife at her neck. Jerking Mary from the soldier, Zili yanked her head back by her hair, her back extended over his raised knee. Her red headscarf came off in Zili’s hand. He slapped the flat of his cold blade to her throat. “Please?” asked Zili, his voice up-toned, his mouth filled with slices of apple. “You have to the count of three, old man, to tell me where she is.” Zili snapped. “One, Two...” He turned the edge of his blade to her skin. 223 Sandra Jo Troupe & Darrell R Troupe, Sr. “NO.” shouted Sarah, bursting through a trap door in the floor. She screamed to the limit of her breath. “Please, Stop.” Zili gazed to Sarah. He laughed. “There you are you naughty girl, in the turnip cellar, very clever. Oh, yes--Three...” “NOOOO.” Sarah cried, rushing toward Mary. Simpering, Zili drew the cold steel across Mary’s throat. In slow motion, Sarah struggled to move but she could move no faster. Thick rich blood poured over Zili’s right hand. Sarah could not save Mary. Clutching her throat, Mary gurgled. Blood spewed through her wrinkled white fingers, her eyes fixed and wide. Zili tossed Mary’s limp body aside to the floor. A pool of red grew around her body until the floor was slick with her blood. “Trash.” He muttered, sneering. Tom broke from the soldier, and Jax. He grasped futilely at Zili. Grinning in Tom’s face, his chin pressed to Zili’s chest, Zili, with as much force and hate as he could muster, thrust a dagger into Tom’s abdomen. Reeling backward, Tom’s face was pale and flat, with an expression of dying horror. Staggering back against the table, he turned from Zili. His arm reaching for her, Tom took one step toward Mary before his leg collapsed beneath him, the knife poking from his heart.

Madison Knight is back! Giveaway with @Carolyn_Arnold

Posted on October 14, 2013 at 5:10 PM Comments comments (0)

If you haven’t already, meet Madison Knight, the chocolate-loving detective, who is determined to solve murder and find justice for the victims—even if that means coming into contact with the sight of blood.


However, in Found Innocent, the latest release in the series (releasing October 16th!), she doesn’t have to face too messy of a crime scene, at least in one sense. What she does have to deal with is whether or not she’s willing to jeopardize departmental relationships and cross the wall of blue.


Here, this is what it’s about:

There's one code when it comes to the wall of blue…and Madison Knight may have to cross it.


Any good cop knows you never report a brother for mishandling a case or accuse him of misconduct, but in order to find justice, Madison may not have a choice.


Lacy Rose had one goal for her twentieth birthday—to be found innocent of past sins—but her life is cut short.


When Lacy's remains are found in a garden and the investigation becomes connected to a closed case, Madison must face her past. The lead detective on that case was Madison's ex-fiancé. At the risk of jeopardizing departmental relationships, and churning up the attention of an old flame at the same time, Madison must push hard before the guilty are found innocent.


Excerpt, Chapter 1:


“He didn’t do it!”

The hysterical shouting pulled Madison’s attention from her monitor to a woman rushing toward her.

The station was supposed to be quiet today. Sunday. She wasn’t required to be there, and that made it the perfect day to dig into her cold case. She was so close to getting answers.

With one more longing look at her screen, Madison rose from her chair and held up her hands to stop the woman.

“Detective Knight.” She stated this as if they had met before.

Officer Ranson, the female officer who manned the front desk, came up behind them. “Come on—”

Another officer brushed past Ranson and slipped his hands under the woman’s arms. “Let’s go.”

He pulled on her, but she stayed still. Her eyes steadied on Madison.

“Please help me.” She attempted to shake loose from the officer’s grip.

Her frown lines were deep burrows, her eyes were sunken, and the flesh around them was puffy. She appeared to be rough-edged, but there was something desperate about her, and she didn’t seem to be a threat to the lives of anyone here.

“I’ve got this,” Madison said.

“All right, your call.” The male officer let go of the woman, and he and Ranson left.

“I saw your face in the paper.” The woman held up the Stiles Times. “It’s you, isn’t it?” Her lashes were caked with mascara, and she blinked slowly. Madison wondered if the cosmetic had sealed her eyes shut.

Madison passed a glance to the paper. It captured a moment she wished to forget. A day when she had been forced to speak in front of a crowd and to take pride in the job she had done. The thing was, though, a good cop couldn’t care less about the recognition.

The woman sobbed, yet her tears didn’t affect her makeup. “He wouldn’t do this…”

Madison summoned patience. A list of envelope-printing companies—which could prove to be a vital link in the chain of evidence against the Russians—would be on her monitor, right now.

She took a deep breath, passed another glance to her computer, and turned back to the woman. “Come with me.”

Madison kept the woman to the side of her. Her first impression was the woman didn’t pose a threat, but she still wasn’t willing to sacrifice her back by leading the way into the room.

Inside, Madison gestured to a chair.

The woman dropped her red bag heavily on the table. It was large enough to serve as a duffel bag. She pulled off her jean jacket, folded it over the back of the chair, and revealed a pink sweater that displayed more cleavage than Madison could ever hope to see on herself. The woman went rooting through the duffel bag and she stuffed a stick of gum in her mouth. She worked at chopping it into a soft, pliable distraction. It snapped in her mouth.

“Let’s start with your name—”

“Vilma with an ‘i’. Vilma Thorne, well, it would have been. My God, Kev!” She raised her face upward as if calling out to a Greater Being. Her gum chewing paused only momentarily.

“Vilma—” Madison had to tune out the noise and the display of her open-mouth chewing. “Let’s start at the beginning. Why are you here?”

Vilma stuck a finger through one of the large gold hoops dangling from her ears and leaned in.

Madison detected the blend of cheap perfume and cigarettes. Maybe—she inhaled deeper, trying not to appear obvious—it wasn’t perfume but whiskey. It was hard to discern. Her eyes appeared normal, except for the abuse of eye makeup. Besides the thick mascara, her lids were weighed with the color purple. Her pupils weren’t dilated or pinpricks.

Still, she didn’t respond to Madison’s question.

“Okay, Vilma, if you need my help, I need you to talk to me.”

Possibly this woman was on a new line of drug that disguised itself behind brilliant colors? Maybe this was a mistake and Madison should have let her get hauled away.

“My family is against what he did. But he didn’t do it!” Her voice rose, tears flowed. She stopped chewing and, sniffling, went rooting in the duffel bag again. She came out with a bunched up tissue and wiped her nose.

Madison’s tolerance level had almost reached its limit. “You keep saying he didn’t do it. Do what?”

A tissue still pinched on the tip of her nose, Vilma said, “He didn’t kill himself…someone killed him.”



Interested in reading more?


Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble




The Madison Knight Series is a clean, murder mystery series meaning mild graphic violence and language. Each book is self-contained so you can read any of the books, and out of order, if you wanted to. Books in the series in released order: Ties that Bind, Justified, Sacrifice, Life Sentence (Prequel in which Madison has a cameo role), and Found Innocent.

Carolyn Arnold started to take writing seriously six plus years ago when a co-worker said “tell me a story”. Since then she’s written nine novels and has plans to write many more. She has a love for the canine world and has two beagles that are affectionately named Max and Chelsea. Like her female protagonist Madison Knight, she loves her chocolate and has been known, on occasion, to speak her mind.



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Something to tink about

Posted on October 10, 2013 at 4:05 PM Comments comments (0)

Family connections are most important, they turn you into that which you become. Friends are connections that may be as strong as family. Friends may become so bonded as to become family. Some are lucky enough to have someone in your life that are both, family and friend.

Today would have been my sister, Cindy's 63 rd birthday. Although she had her faults, she was a remarkable woman. In grade school she studied ballet and became a Prima Ballerina. After an injury ended her career as a dancer, Cindy studied Respiratory medicine and became a Respiratory therapist. She played the Oboe and was crazy about Christmas. We lost her to cancer seven years ago, but she is thought of daily.

Today she celebrates with all those that have gone before. Happy Birthday Cindy know you are not forgotten.

Something to think about

Posted on October 8, 2013 at 2:20 PM Comments comments (0)

Positive attitude is the best way to #improve the way you experience your day.  :D Smile like you mean it, the #emotion will follow.

Something to think about

Posted on September 15, 2013 at 11:30 PM Comments comments (0)

There is no perfect family.

Dad was extremely controlling, disciplined and a man of strong will and honor. My Mom was bipolar, my sister was histrionic and self centered. Andy felt entitled and that he was always right. Rick was the avoider. I was the negotiator. In grade school and high school I spent a lot of time in the ER. I'd faint, then not remember why, and tell people what I thought happened. Other people involved in those activities had differences of the memories. So my parents and siblings labeled me a liar.

In nursing school it was found that there are three things that affected my memory, Hypoglycemia caused me to pass out Hypothyroidism, an inability to absorb Thiamin (vitamin B1), and Dyslexia affected how I remember things. So my brothers blame me for all the wrongs in the family. That is just fine. There were 7 sides to every truth ( Wally's, Dorothy's, Cindy's, Sandy's, Andy's, Ricky's and the actual truth). It is what it is, that will not be changed.

The past we own created the people we have become. We are wise or not, Sane or not, Healthy or not, Loving and caring or not, Faithful or not. That said we must choose the way we present ourselves and the examples we want our children to follow. I choose to live my life in faith, individualized to each family member.

I choose to live seeking education, learning something new every day. I choose to live blind to skin color to value each person for all they can teach me. I choose to find value in all things, as every object and creation has a lesson to teach.

My hope is the lessons offered by my example are humble and of value. 

Something to think about.

Posted on September 11, 2013 at 2:30 PM Comments comments (0)

When I was a child I had many visits to the hospital and learned that you do not need to have white skin to care for someone. At that time my parents were trying to teach my siblings and I to be accepting of all peoples. All are intelligent, All can teach you something you don't know, Many can teach you something you never knew you needed to know. I was pleased when I found out that I was skin color blind. As my children came along, my example for them was one of acceptance of all peoples.

My children have learned these lessons. Yet in doing so they have taught me something as well. There is a strong spiritual bond formed between self and God when the true acceptance of others is becomes second nature. A natural peace, that is expressed on the faces of those who practice acceptance. A glow of peace that is hard not to notice.

My husband and I are extremely proud of the choices our children have made in their lives. Unfortunately there are no better words to convey how we feel.

So what was the lesson received by my life so far? All actions communicate a true measure of ones soul, and that measure is a permanent presentation of who you truly are. Be sure that what you present is the person you want people to know, you may have only one chance to make the presentation.

From the Authors

Posted on August 7, 2013 at 10:15 PM Comments comments (0)

No matter how well members of a house hold get along, one of the best time to have discussions as a family is over a good meal. Food a necessity, is always better when eaten in the company of others. What better place and time to find out about work and school. No one has to search for a way to start a conversation. A great place to start is " So what went on today?"  Here is a receipt we find always brings friends and family to the table.

Family Favorite


Thai noodle soup serves 8 cut into bite size pieces

prep to finish 1 hour


2 cups each china peas and Shitaki mushrooms, 10 green onions, 1 tablespoon fresh cilantro


In 8 quart dutch oven heat 1 tablespoon each of olive, peanut and chili oil

Add 3# chicken breast cut into small strips or cubes season with poultry seasoning and five spice powder to taste 2 teaspoons coarse sea salt brown and stir fry until chicken is fully cooked.


Add vegetables 4 tablespoons granular chicken flavoring stir until evenly mixed add 16 ounces chicken broth bring to boil


Break 6 packages ramen noodles with seasoning packets, 1/4 cup Hoisen sauce and 3 tablespoons Worchestershire sauce add to soup mix stir well add 16 ounces chicken broth bring to boil


Simmer for 15 minutes and serve hot.


Enjoy as a family together with good conversation.


Something to think about

Posted on August 3, 2013 at 1:35 AM Comments comments (0)

Any disability becomes ability if you have the right mindset.

Never say, " I don't think I could ever ..." because fate will giggle, take one look at you and challenge you with the " I don't think I could ever ...” One morning you wake up and life seems up side down. That's when " I don't think I could ever ..." turns into "God guide me and give me strength." You find out which family and friends truly have your back.

Whether permanent or temporary when a disability presents itself it's natural to feel isolated and confused. It's OK to feel angry. It's OK to feel desperate and frustrated. Just remember there is always someone who has the answer to your questions and is willing to offer the answers. I have found that most people with a disability and their caregivers invite questions and are welcome to helping others in similar situation. Many, as do I, feel obliged to share information. Once armed with the information offered by those that have been there any disability becomes ability.

Living in a family with a disabled family member is not much different then a standard household. Get up, brush your teeth, wash up, get dressed, eat, and clear the table, then off to school or work. The difference is someone has to help the family member that has difficulty moving or thinking: get up, brush your teeth, wash up, get dressed, eat, take their medicine, clear the table, then off to school or work. Everyone in the household learns to help with getting dressed, putting on braces and positioning in the bed, tub, stroller or wheelchair. Little thing that we do and take for granted or seems easy, become major victories that are celebrated. Everyone in the household learns how to feed those who can't feed themselves. Everyone learns to help with every activity that no one else has to think about doing. Then suddenly there is a routine; helping each other has become as natural as breathing, normal.

The most difficult challenge becomes developing and maintaining good self-esteem. Be optimistic, think positively, an “I can” or “you can” attitude will prevent or remove the barriers formed by doubt. Love and faith are your strongest tools. When people stare or try to avoid you don't be offended smile, say hello, take the first step toward communication. People fear what they don't understand. A smile with an outstretched hand opens the door to questions and sharing. You never know who may have information that may make your life, or someone else's life a little easier. Remember no matter how bad you think your situation is, someone else has it more difficult. Any disability becomes ability if you have the right mindset.

I celebrate the struggles my family has experienced and overcome for they have taught all of us that we are strong. Our struggles have helped our family to build bonds founded on love that will never be broken. Our faith is strong and grows stronger each day. We are grateful for our struggles as we see miracles every day; another day without a seizure, a new movement, a day with little to no pain, the ability to speak a little clearer, or the dog playing a slow game of ball with Branden.

Something to think about

Posted on July 25, 2013 at 7:30 PM Comments comments (0)

All relationships are complicated but that of relatives are more so, there is more to risk.

Something to think about.

Posted on July 25, 2013 at 6:50 PM Comments comments (0)


Truth is NEVER a clear story.

No one ever really has all sides of the story, because they can only see a situation through their OWN eyes.

For many years I thought that my parents objected to my husband because he is a black man. Then decades of persistently trying to rectify my relationship my dad told me his objection was to our "ages more so than color, and the hardships that both would bring" to our lives.


Not telling me or the family the REAL reason left a rift of hatred in my brothers hearts. A hatred they hold to this day, but which I will not return. My heart still holds an unconditional love for them, and always will. Should they arrive at my door they would be greeted with hugs, open arms and forgiveness. Why forgiveness because, you cannot make decisions on partial information. They learned to behave irrationally because the had incomplete information.


This is my family. A family of long broken connections. Connections broken by misunderstanding, and hatred born of that misunderstanding, a very one sided hatred.


My parents and grand parents gave my siblings and I some rules to live by: *be a person of faith. *be honest. *be respectful of others and animals at all times. *take responsibility for what you do, good or bad. *help others.


Lessons which I tried to incorporate into my being. When I moved away to school I met a wonderful man who had all the characteristics and values of my father. We met over music and a common interest in the medicinal arts.


Darrell became my tutor, then friends, then a couple. Suddenly after a night of impulse, we became parents. Neither of us had finished school and we were unmarried. After many long hours of discussions we decided to keep the baby while finishing school.


We told Darrell's parents were not happy with us, but accepted our decision. They were not supportive at first but helped us where they could.


Then I told my parents. They were not as understanding. They had met Darrell in the past, knew he was respectful, responsible, that he would not abandon me with a baby and no man. Dad pointed out to me that Darrell was neither " white no polish", asked me to "CHOOSE between Darrell or my family. Stop dating Darrell and give up the baby, and I could stay." When I said I would "choose my baby", Dad asked me for my keys, and told me to "NEVER contact the family ever again." He then changed the locks and the phone number. Out of respect for my father, most of my relatives followed suit.


That lasted for many years, with the exception of the very few who seemed to understand my decision. I understand they were acting in respect of a man who could not reverse a decision because his pride would not permit him to. But in his dying days, Dad and I were able to speak. He knew I had only Love in my heart for him, and held no ill feelings toward him or mom.