Current and Future Releases From Pandamoon Publishing

Image In the interest of keeping you informed, since there is all sorts of misinformation out there, I’ve put together a list of links to the books Pandamoon Publishing has already released as well as the tentative schedule for future releases. This is the current Pandamoon Publishing catalogue. Click on picture or the link (as displayed) to go to the link:



Other titles in the immediate queue for Spring: (Launch Dates Are Tentative)

March 31, 2014 – Southbound by Jason Beem (that’s less that a week away)

April 14, 2014 – The Secret Keepers by Author Chrissy Lessey

April 30, 2014 – Crystal Coast: The Coven by Chrissy Lessey

May 30, 2014 – Fried Windows (In A Light White Sauce) by Elgon Williams


Coming this summer:

The Long Way Home (Part 1) by Regina West

The Long Way Home (Part 2) by Regina West

We The People by Heather Jacobs

Crimson Forest by Christine Gabriel

Coming this fall:

Lord Hyacinthe by Rebecca Lamoreaux

A Tree Born Crooked by Steph Post

Coming in 2015:

Until Proven by McKelle George

Knights Of The Shield by Jeff Messick

The Vaccine’s Agenda by Jeff Skinner

Becoming Thuperman by Elgon Williams


Other information on Pandamoon Publishing: Pandamoon is a small publisher based in Austin, Texas. It provides its signed authors with production, marketing and promotional assistance in selling books under contract. These services include substantive and content editing as well as final proof reading, cover design and developing and executing a marketing plan through assigned publicists. Marketing fact: The vast majority of new books offered each year come from small, independent publisher and self published authors. The big five publishers make the noise splashing around in the pool but there are a number of extremely good books released each year that sell very well without deep pockets and big bucks. Image


Multi-Talented Artist Alisse Lee Goldenberg: Author, Actress and Painter


Recently I had the chance to ask Alisse Lee Goldenberg some questions about her writing, acting and painting. Alisse is an author of Horror and Young Adult fantasy fiction. Her book Sitnalta (that’s Atlantis spelled backwards) was published last fall through Pandamoon Publishing. She has her Bachelors of Education and a Fine Arts degree, and has studied fantasy and folklore since she was a child. Alisse lives in Toronto with her husband Brian, their triplets Joseph, Phillip, and Hailey, and their rambunctious Goldendoodle Sebastian.


Q: Imagine for a moment that you’re a famous, bestselling author. They’re making a movie out of your last book. What do you do next to top what you’re already achieved?

 A: First of all, that would be awesome! As for what I’d do next, I don’t know anything could top that! But I’d definitely keep writing and at the very least try to match it. Maybe write a screenplay?

 Q: Creative people tend to be spontaneous. In particular, most people think that writers are at least a little crazy. Tell us the most unusual thing you have done in your real life that doesn’t directly relate to writing.

 A: It’s a little hard to choose! If I were looking for the most adventurous thing, that would be cliff jumping. That entails literally jumping off a cliff into a body of water. I would say that the most unusual thing I’ve done had to have been when I was asked to play the role of Jack in a production of Into the Woods. I don’t think many women have ever gotten that opportunity. The costume was uncomfortable for many reasons (mainly to do with breathing!)


Q: Creativity comes in many ways – for example, painting, photography, sculpture, music and theater. What other things do you do or have you done that are examples of using your imagination or other artistic talents?

A: I do quite a bit of painting, mostly in acrylics, and I act on stage and on screen. I actually find that the acting helps my writing in that it allows me to get into the skin of other characters, and I get to meet so many fantastic people! As for my painting, I wish I had more time for it, but right now, the writing and my family takes up more of my time.


Q: Family and relationships are important in peoples’ lives and so, it is little surprise that there are relationships between characters in books. How closely do the interactions in your books mirror your real life?

A: Considering that there are a few dysfunctional families in my books, I hope not a lot! However, there are also some amazing and powerful friendships, and those are definitely reflective of the wonderful support groups I have around me.

Q: When writing I’m sure you hit snags where characters aren’t behaving or the plot just isn’t working. When that happens to me I play video solitaire. What do you do?

A: It happens quite a bit! And for a plotter like myself, I find it especially irksome. When that happens to me, I pour myself a glass of wine, complain to anyone I can get a hold of, and watch The Avengers pretending that the Hulk is smashing the characters that have gone on a tangent.

Q: There is a point in every professional writer’s life when it stops being a hobby and starts being a vocation. When did that happen for you and why did you choose to pursue this career?

A: I think it’s always been a vocation. I’ve wanted to do this since the day I learned the squiggles in my books were words and told stories. I feel that I’d be doing this even if I didn’t make a single cent from my stories. My head and my heart are full of them, and I need to put them out into the world. I just hope people like to read them!


Alisse Lee Goldenberg in print:

The Strings of the Violin is a fantasy adventure interweaving Eastern European folklore with modern characters.

Seventeen-year-old Carrie is lying in her backyard ignoring all the looming responsibilities in her life, when a fox makes a mad dash across the grass in front of her. After she manages to keep her dog from attacking the frightened animal, the fox turns to Carrie and seems to bow in gratitude before he disappears into the bushes. All Carrie knows in that moment is that something has unexpectedly changed in her life.

Carrie has been best friends with Lindsay Smith and Rebecca Campbell for years. During a summer when they should focus on choosing colleges, the girls suddenly find themselves swept away on the adventure of their lives. The fox reappears three days later and reveals to Carrie that he is Adom, emissary to the king of Hadariah. With his land of music and magic in peril, Adom has been sent to seek help from Carrie and her friends. In the blink of an eye, the three teenage girls go from living an average suburban life to being the champions of a world where they must contend with giants, witches, and magical beings. Will they ever make it home once more?

Sitnalta: Everyone in the land loves Princess Sitnalta of Colonodona. Everyone except her father, the monstrous King Supmylo, whose thirst for revenge and hideous cravings, have nearly destroyed the once peaceful kingdom. He cares only for power—the more the better—and he despises Sitnalta because she wasn’t born a boy. He wanted an heir, a prince, to grow his kingdom and fulfill his own father’s legacy. But now, his only choice is to join with a neighboring kingdom, and at the tender age of 15, Sitnalta is to be married to another king who is at least as old as her own father. 

But Sitnalta has other ideas. Before her father can come for her, she sneaks out of her bedroom window, scales the castle walls, and enters the magical forest that surrounds her kingdom. There she meets Najort, a kind-hearted troll, who was tasked by a wizard decades earlier to protect a valuable secret—with his life, if necessary. 

But King Supmylo has vowed that nothing will stop him from returning his daughter to Colonodona, and forcing her to go through with the royal wedding. With the help of friends from both kingdoms, Sitnalta and Najort flee ahead of the rabid king. For if they are captured, Supmylo will become so invincible, no one could stand against him. 

Bath Salts: The time is now, and a mysterious virus has infected much of the world’s population, turning them into flesh-craving zombies. As people die from what the media call “drug-fuelled Bath Salts attacks” one young mother sees what is truly happening beneath the lies, and with her good friends An and Olivia, takes matters into her own hands to keep her family safe. 

Day by day, Bath Salts tells of their escape to the arctic tundra, and their desperate attempt to survive the elements, zombie attacks, and armed bandits with their humanity intact.

Visit Alisse on the web at www.alisseleegoldenberg.com


The Legend of Stinkfoot’s Socks

One summer, during college, I went jogging each and every night with my frat brother, Brad, and whenever I did I wore the same pair of socks. I never bothered to wash them because I only wore them for jogged and… Well, at the time, that logic made more sense than it does now trying to rationalize it. Anyway, I didn’t bother washing them.

After several weeks, Brad was in my room watching late night reruns of Star Trek when he complained about something smelling really bad. We figured out it was my jogging socks. So, we had to decide what to do with them.

Down the hall was a room with an air conditioner where four of our frat brothers slept. It was early August and hot as hell. So the A/C ran constantly. Brad and I didn’t enjoy such luxurious accommodations, having to make due with window fans.

Being a house officer (I was Social Director if you can imagine that), I had an emergency key to get into every room in case of a fire. During the night, with great stealth, I opened the door to the air-conditioned room and tossed the dirty, rank-smelling socks under the bed closest to the door and quickly but quietly closed the door and went back to my room. Brad asked what I did with the socks; I said, “Taken care of.”

The next day when I came back from class, the door to that room was open and a box fan was blowing fresh air into the room from the hallway. The whole place reeked of cologne. I’d forgotten about my nefarious, nocturnal deed but when I asked what happened I had to turn away to keep from laughing as my frat brother told me, “We found a pair of really grotty socks under the bed. Nobody knew where they came from.”

“What did you do with them?” I asked, as I struggled to stifle a chuckle.

“We threw ’em in the far stairwell.”

A couple of weeks later, when everyone returned to the frat for fall semester and both stairwell were opened for the semester, the atmosphere in that particular stairwell was still ripe. One of my other frat brothers, an ex-Marine name Greg, decided to put on his gas mask and chemical gloves and put the socks in a black garbage bag. Then he and I carried the hazardous material over to the frat house next door and buried the bag in the woods behind.

Of course, except for Brad, I never let any of my frat bros know that I was the one they referred to as Stinkfoot, the source of the legendary socks.

Me circa 1977-1

Me during my college years, circa 1977.


Finding My Purpose In Life


 We start out not knowing anything about the world. It’s fresh, new, exciting – everything is interesting. That’s what being a kid’s about… for many years, at least. Then at some point the kid in us starts learning the ways of being an adult. And a part of that is finding a purpose in life. Unfortunately, I think a lot of us look for The Purpose more than A Purpose, and so, we fail.

Maybe that’s why I packed up and moved out of the house, pretty much, and went away to college. Going far away, at least to mean, meant a school in the next state over from where I grew up. It was a over couple of hour’s drive, almost three actually. That was quite far back in the day, especially farm boy.



Take in my perspective of the world: I lived two miles from Nowhere, which is what I called my hometown. From the back deck of my dad’s house I could see for miles and maybe there were a couple of other people who lived within eyesight, but their houses were dots on the horizon. That’s the Midwest.


There were a lot of things to like about living in the country but most of those escaped me. What I wanted from life had nothing to do with raising livestock and grain, taking over my father’s way of life. I was allergic to farming, literally.


Being outside in the sun everyday had given my father a farmer’s tan, though he had a fair complexion and mainly his skin was red from exposure. If anything, I was a paler version of him. Dad coughed, hacked and wheezed a lot from all the dust he inhaled from working. I broke out in a rash from exposure to the oils of freshly cut grass. Can you imagine being a kid and having an allergic reaction to grass? Fortunately, over time, I grew more tolerant of that.


So Dad gave up on the idea of me taking over his farm, at least running it as he did. What he figured I’d do was go away to college, study agricultural engineering and return home to manage his farms but also the farms he had operated for many years, those belonging to my godfather. He referred to it as being a ‘gentleman farmer’. Whenever he used that term I got this picture in my head of Oliver Wendell Douglas, the guy character on Green Acres who rode a tractor wearing a three-piece suit. I think what My dad had in mind was something more along the lines of having people working for me running things more like a corporation than a family business.


The only trouble with that dream was it wasn’t exactly shared. I disappointed him a little when I told him I wanted to study journalism. Dad watched the evening news every night that he was home from working on the farm in time to catch Walter Cronkite not he tube. He respected him. But in general Dad didn’t like the press that much and couldn’t understand why I wanted to be one of them.


It turned out that after nearly four years of studying mass communication at Purdue University I had tended more toward radio and TV production than journalism and also studied advertising and public relations. Those actually became my major concentration.

I studied consumer psychology, labor relations, social psychology and a lot of other things that were skewed closer to business. And so I decided to change my major late in the game.

Like most people who go to college, at some point I figured out that at the end of my matriculation I needed to find a job. So there had to be a practical use for what I had learned in college. I dreamed of being a writer even then, but I figured I needed to have a paying gig and pursuer the writing as more of a hobby.


By then my parents had sold their farm on land contract, packed up and moved to Mission, Texas. If you have never been there, it is just about as far south as you can go in the Continental US. Dad had always dreamed of going out west. He loved to read western pulp novels when he was younger and by then time I was a kid he watched westerns on TV every chance he got. Fairly often he talked about movie to Arizona, California or Texas, which got my sisters riled up about moving away from their friend. Not me so much, because I had always been of a mind that I wasn’t going to spend my life in southeastern Clark County, Ohio.


So dad was living his dream, living in Texas. We had flown down to Corpus Christy and stayed in a room some radio evangelist let us use. Dad contributed to his program and his school for wayward girls. We borrowed a beat up station wagon and drove down to Mission to look at houses there. That was a long drive in a car that didn’t look like it was roadworthy, let alone capable of making the trip.

I liked Mission. It was a small town close to McAllen and Edinburg, resting not he Rio Grande. A lot of the architecture was Mexican, as were the descent of the people, but that was part of why Dad and I liked about the place. They raised grapefruit there, and so there were miles and miles of orchards bearing the ruby red variety of the citrus fruit.


We spent a whole day there looking around with a real estate agent. And, although I advised Dad to have Mom come look at places, he claimed she had given him permission. I could even hear her voice in his remark that he said she told him anywhere he liked was fine. But i also knew her. Maybe better than Dad did in some ways.The house he was going to buy was a lot smaller than would comfortably fit their furniture. Dad said they were foregoing to sell off most of their stuff. So, okay… maybe that will work. But then I asked the obvious. “Do you realize you don’t know anybody who lives down here?” 


It might seem a silly question. Of course, he didn’t know anybody. But Dad had the gift of making friends easily. He always had. So that wasn’t a concern for him – but Mom, not so much. I was sort of in between the two in their personalities. I got along with everybody but I never had too many friends, just a few and even then they were never the sort that felt close.

 So, Dad bought the house. I help them move to Texas. Then I finished my degree at Purdue and transferred to UT Austin to study Marketing. I figured I’d be perfect for a job in advertising or public relations with degrees in mass communications and marketing.


I mention all this because until recently I have always tried to figure out why I did everything that I did. Other than having some good stories to write about, it was hard to explain why I worked in advertising for only a year, how I got a wild hair and joined the Air Force, learned Chinese and ended up on the other side of the planet for a while. And then, how did it make any sense for me to get married when I did, start a family and wind up working in retail for most of my adult life? The simple answer is, it didn’t. However, that would also be the wrong answer.

 You see, it has occurred to me that all along The Purpose for my life was always there while I was settling for A Purpose instead. I was born to be a writer, not anything else I did along the way. Yes, all those many things I have done give me a somewhat unique perspective on things so I can write in a semi-intelligent manner about a number of topics. But The Purpose in my life was to be a writer. I allowed many other things to get in the way, but now that I have arrived, I won’t let that happen again.

That doesn’t mean I still don’t need to survive. Writing for a living is not all that lucrative – at least not while one is starting out. But I have all this other knowledge and experience that I can share with others and, guess what? Most people don’t have the same knowledge and experience I have. That’s how it works out. I know a number of other authors now and most of us have the same problem, we’re obscure at best. I’m helping a few of my friends with publicity. And that was The Purpose for a lot of what I did for all those years at college other than learning how to think differently, learning a little bit about life, and exploring any number of things I might have never experienced living on a farm in west central Ohio.