I remember Christmas eve

I came from a fairly large family. There were six of us kids, two boys and four girls.
We moved a lot because of my father's job, but we spent a lot of time living in Vermont. I remember one Christmas eve, very late a night, I was looking out the window at the pristine snow. The street lights sort of made everything glow like a fairyland. The many shaped crystals fell gently to dust the already foot of snow on the ground. I got a feeling, it's hard to describe. Amazement, wonder, the beauty of it touched my heart. Someone special had made a fairy land and I was there to see it.
I'd done the same thing dozens of times on Christmas eve. That special quiet time would always come to mind when I think of Christmas. It's a special gift, something so beautiful it always brings tears to my eyes.
Late at night, everyone else was asleep but me. I touched my finger to the ice on the window and blew on it to make a fog. Then I drew a star on the window, it faded rapidly.
Then inside the star I saw something just a bit odd. There was a figure walking down the covered streets. It was a large bulky figure covered from head to toe to keep warm. I knew it was a man, it had to be. He carried a large bag over his shoulder, and no he didn't look like Santa. From the bay window in the front of the house I knew I could see better. So I quietly walked to the living room and pressed myself against the window. At first I couldn't see him well, the swirling windblown snow dimmed my view. Eventually he walked past the front of my house and I got a better look.
Suddenly he looked up and saw me. I was scared at first, and then he gave me a little wave and stopped. He lowered his bag to the ground and just stood there looking at me, cocking his head to the side as if he was thinking. Then he reached into the bag and lifted something out. He laid it on the soft snow and gestured to tell me it was mine. Now my parents had always told us to beware of strangers so I was a little scared to go out there alone. After a few minutes he picked up his bag, gave me a wave and shook as if he was laughing. Then he continued on down the street. I didn't see him stop anywhere else. He just walked down the road and I watched until the darkness and snow obliterated him from my view.
Immediately I ran to my room and woke my younger sister JoAnn. It took a minute to clue the dingbat in. But when she woke up enough to understand, she ran to the front window with me to look. We could see something in the snow, it was a bag and it was moving slightly. I told my sister to stay in the window and watch me, while I ran out in my nightgown and bare feet in the snow, to see what it could be. Gosh it was cold on my feet, but I can't say as it bothered me much. I was too interested in what was in the bag. I grabbed the string of the bag and made it back into the house in record time.
JoAnn was at the front door when I came back in. We were both so scared and excited we could hardly contain ourselves. My sister opened the bag so quickly I got a bit annoyed. I found it, I should have opened it. But that was all forgotten as she pulled a furry bundle from the bag. It was a kitten, small, mewing, warm and alive. I don't think I have ever been so amazed, because our mom and dad had just told us we were going to look for a pet cat. The calico furry kitten immediately began to purr as I held it close.
We must have made enough noise to wake my mother because she walked up to us and asked if we were okay? JoAnn tried to hide the kitten, but somehow I knew it would be okay with my mother. So I held it out to her and she took it. She brought it to her nose to smell the clean scent of a baby cat. I think God must make baby things smell good so that our hearts are drawn to them. Ever smell a human newborn baby, it's pure heaven. My mother is such a kind and loving soul, and to watch her hug the kitten, touched a place deep inside me.
Finally she asked where I got it and I told her. She laughed and then asked where I really got it. I had to swear to her and my mother still looked at me with the, yeah right look. It was when she said we could keep it that the tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. You have to take care of it she told me. And I agreed, while my sister giggled her happiness. It was so odd that my mom had just told us we could get a cat, and viola a kitten. I have to admit it was a weird way to get a cat and God only knows who the man with the sack was. I thought he was an angel, my sister Jo'ann went for the, it had to be one of Santa's elves.
We had that special cat for fifteen years, she was smart, handsome and most of all lovable and gentle. No matter what my baby brother did to her she just laid there. The best cat we ever had.
So now I had the picture perfect snow scene, and a miracle to remember. Every Christmas it will mesmerize me with the memory of that kitten for the rest of my life.
I never told anyone because it scared me a little, but how did that man know we were going to get a kitten, and who the heck was he? The really strange thing was that when I looked behind him as I watched the man walk away. There were no footsteps in the trail he walked, none.
So we named her Jeepers, as in jeepers creepers, cause it was so weird how we got her. She was the best cat we ever had, equally loved by us all.

Then imagine looking at a living room filled with toys and gifts for six kids. And little miracle of life to love on top of the pile. Merry Christmas to you and may you find your kitten in the snow.

Happy Holidays!

So it's that time of year again. The time when we scrape and charge to buy gifts. We push our way through the crowds at the stores, hoping to find that special gift. That gift that will please the recipient and make all your efforts worthwhile.
So I'm gonna tell you a funny story, and it still makes me laugh till this day.
We all know that there are those relatives through marriage who we are not very close too. I have a sister in law that's like the ice queen.
Anyways, it was Christmas day at my in laws. They were strange people as it was, at least to me. We were discussing the worst gifts that you had ever received. I mentioned how I think that the worst give you could give to a woman is Jean Nate, and a man, old spice. It shows how little you care for them. How you only bought the gift because you had to, buying those cheap perfumes was an insult! My husband agreed with me, and so did most of the room.
Guess what we both opened from the ice queen? Yep! Well I thought it was so funny I couldn't stop laughing. And to this day, I will never forget the look on her face.

Now we'll talk about the opposite kind of gift. When the giver has taken the time to look for that special gift. Or maybe they made you a gift that took time and effort because they couldn't afford to buy something. Well there was this one Christmas that I got a gift I will never forget. My friend was having marital problems and was separated from her husband. She was lucky if she could afford the mortgage. Not a lot of people know my birthday is on Christmas day. But this was my best friend and she would never forget. I told her we shouldn't exchange gifts, neither of us could afford to. But that wouldn't stop her.
She could sing, I mean like really well. It was 12:01am in the morning on Christmas eve, (we lived next door to each other then), and I heard music, soft pretty music, coming in my open window. In Florida we open windows in the winter. So anyways I get up and go to the front door, open it a crack and peak outside. There she was dressed in her nightgown and robe on my front lawn. She was holding a cassette tape recorder from which came my favorite song at the time, Our Prayer. She began to softly sing the words and as the tears came down my face I noticed my other neighbors. One by one the doors opened and people stood there listening. By this time I'm blubbering for all I'm worth. And when she finished and stood there it was quiet for a moment. Then one by one at each door the applause began. There were a few whistles along with the clapping. And she whispered just loud enough for me to hear, "Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas my friend."
Now if that isn't the best present ever, I don't know what is.
Have a great holiday, and may you hear music on your birthday too, just like I did.

December 25th, My birthday Ugh!

Well I was just sitting here thinking about birthdays. On one of my author loops they always wish people a happy birthday.
I never liked my birthday, it's X mas day. Now I didn't mind the fact that you couldn't have a party. With six siblings in one family, there weren't many parties.
But Christmas at our house was a special thing.
My father decorated every thing that could reach an outlet, inside and outside. My mother cooked a turkey the size of a small sheep, and there were burners cooking from morning to dinner, with the side dishes. With that many kids there were lots of presents in the living room. I don't know how they did it, but we all got five or six things to open; hated the clothes, loved the toys. My brothers drove some electric thing around, and someone dragged a doll or an etch a sketch around.
Though I can remember that really got me ticked was the present that was marked, 'for your Christmas birthday'. Everyone did it, but I hated my birthday. No one remembered your birthday on Christmas!
So for my whole life I felt cheated and resented it.
I am pleased to say I don't care anymore. I don't care that my birthday is on X mas, because I don't want anymore birthdays. Now when I remember, or someone else remembers it. I cringe.
Because it means I am getting older, and for me I'd prefer not to.
I'd really just as soon stay this age. I'm old enough.

Bonnie Vanak blogs for the Pink Fuzzy Slipper Writers on Saturday12/13!!!

The Bonnie Vanak, 'Best Selling Author', blogs for the Pink Fuzzy Slipper Writers on Saturday, 12/13/09 Her historical romantic adventures are riveting.
Bonnie is a member of my local chapter of the Florida Romance Writers. She is a wonderful, down to earth lady, with a fascinating life. She travels the world, and then comes home to play with the family's train collection. I might get to see it!
She was so kind and agreed to take her time, and her time is precious, to come and talk to us.
It was her first book The Falcon and The Dove, that hooked me on her books. Bonnie writes with imagery that puts you in the story. And you're hooked, just like me.

Tell me how to do It.

I just watched the evening news. Some poor man had just lost his wife and two daughters when a military jet crashed and hit his house. The sheer blank stare of disbelief the only emotion on his face. Even before he said it I ws in tears.

"Tell me how to do it, I don't know what to do?"

Honest, down to the point, raw pain, fills his heart. He has no idea how to go on, or whether he wants to at all. His mind is stuck in the shock of disbelief. It hasn't really yet hit him I don't think.
He is in the first stage of grief, shock.
But his question is universal. How will he go on. What will he do now that his life is so changed.
A thousand prayers and well wishes will not change the fact that he will never be the same.
Each day will be a new task. How will he do it?

In each one of us is a soul, that thing which in my mind makes us an individual. What is our spirit, our life light, there are lots of words for it. This poor man will have to dig into himself to survive. He will have to force himself to get up in the morning and he will have to overcome despair. I don't envy him, for I don't know the answer to his question.

But this I do know. If he can make it so can I. If he can find that spark in his soul that gives him the strength to go on, I can. My everyday problems don't compare to his nightmare. So if he can do it so can I.

It takes a moment, or a comment like this to remind me. I can do it, it won't be easy, but I can do anything I want to.

Helping Fellow Authors

One of the most important things in my life is reading. I have read everything from The Rise and Fall of The Roman Empire to Bertrice Small. Reading is such an escape for me. Within minutes of starting a good book I am lost to the real world.

Now it starts to get harder when someone wants you to help critique their work. You know that this story is someones baby. It means a lot to them. And you can also remember how hard it was to hear someones critique of your work.

Now I find there is a nice way and a not so nice way to do this. Sometimes people don't think before they hit that send key. Me, I agonize over what impact my words will have on the persons book I am reading. You want to help but not hurt. And that can be very hard to do.

So my advise is to think about how you would feel and try to use words that are kind and helpful. Because basically that is all you can do.

Then there's the story that just knocks you out. From beginning to end you are enthralled. The worst thing you can say is you need a comma here or there. I have a critique partner that writes so well, it freaks me out. After reading her first book I can see the light went on in her head and she now gets it. Everything she puts out there now is right on. All I can say is Wow.

So if you are ever critiquing someones work be careful, remember there is an author behind
those stories. A writer just like you who has feelings, but needs your help. Be kind, be honest and remember why you are critiquing. To help a fellow author put out the best book she can!
That's what it's all about.

Hands Full!

Today I received the privilege of taking care of a four month old German Shepherd puppy. My brother-in-law has to go into the hospital and yes I am a sap.
I expected a bit more time before he went in, to prepare. Well guess what? I forgot, since it has been nine years since I had a puppy, just how much energy they have. It tires me to watch it. My Shepherd is spoiled rotten. He has a box full of toys that he mostly ignores. Well it's like I opened a puppy store. There are toys and chews from one end of the house to another. Watching the unbridled enthusiasm amazes me. And then suddenly, plop, she's down and out for the count.

I don't think I want a young puppy. In order to not have pee on the floor, I have to remember to take her out every couple of hours. My big boy looks at me as if I'm foolish. He has his routine and this constant peeing is just beneath him. God help me tonight, will this last all night? Do I have to wake up every few hours or else.

The stray cat doesn't help the situation either. Oh yeah, I forget to mention the stray cat. For the last three or four days my other half has brought this cat in to eat. Now I told him that in kitty land feeding a stray cat is tantamount to inviting it to live with you. Now I can't say that feeling the bones on every inch of this poor cat just blew my head away. And I took out the canned mackerel and hoped I have not caused it to have any problems. Well it's better then starving I guess. The pieces of lamb worked one day, even the dogs food works. I know that the sucker in me will end up buying the cat food, I just know it. I refuse to put the cat doo doo box in the house, I just won't be changing cat litter under any circumstances.

I also have to watch what else they get to eat. My other half would feed them whatever he ate, which could end up with doggie doo doo as a problem from that. And guess who will have to wake up and let the dogs out. Our animals never ask him for help, always me.

Then there's the canary. The cat, who comes just for dinner right now, got a gander of the bird and the eyes lit up like beacons. Luckily it was easily distracted by what is it now, oh yeah ham. The bird seed is just for the bird. We birds, since the feeders are full outside. So that takes care of the wild birds and squirrels. The raccoons well they are on their own, the fruit and coconut trees will have to do for them. I refuse to feed them too.


Thank goodness there is nothing else that needs me to feed it, oh wait, Chris get that horse out of here!!! No you can't bring it in the house!!! Stop, are you crazy?

Excuse me for now, I have to get that cow off the front porch. No I don't have any hay....

A good day

Florida doesn't have a dramatic change of seasons. It's subtle, but it's there. The sun is lower on the horizon, the nights aren't as stifling, and strong breezes bring the hope of cooler weather.
Farmers are planting their winter crops. Some of the vegetable as great, but I still can't stomach those tasteless Florida tomatoes. But I do look forward to melons, corn, and other fresh edibles.
I don't need as much chlorine in the pool which is good. That stuff is expensive. But without a heater it's not as appealing. The rain cools it down as well as the fountains I love to listen too.
I find myself starting to write again, a little. Which is a lot better than nothing. A bit every day and eventually that second manuscript just might become a book. I can't plot, my head won't let me. So I wait until it comes. I just can't imagine how some writers can push them out so fast. It amazes me to see it.
My dog is starting to scratch less from allergies. The money I have spent on his vet bills have made a deep cut into our finances. My vet says the only way to stop his allergies is to move. Try selling a house in this market.
I enjoyed blogging for Dayana Knight, pleased to be invited. Now I'm gonna bug her till she gets a blog written for me. I just love stories about wolves and Curse of the Marhime is on my short list. Maybe with less vet bills I can actually buy something for me.
I have been spending a lot of time promoting. I did a chat for The Wild Rose Press on Halloween night. People write so fast that by the time I finish what I was saying, they are long gone to a new topic. Well I'm trying to come into this century.
Blogging, my space, facebook, polka dot banner, goodreads, they are endless and there is so much to do when you promote. Just looking through hundreds of emails is time consuming. But they say you have to do it to sell your book. So I jump in holding my nose, and hoping not to drown in it.
So I am alive, I am looking forward to voting a new party in. Hopefully, cause you never know. My mother is better after they took her off of some of the medication they gave her to calm her down after my father died. So that is comforting. My husband is not grouchy today, so that's good.
My friend Jianne Carlo, is writing up a storm. Publishing three books to my one. And they are hot! But they tell wonderful stories and I can't put them down. She had a computer crash, so I haven't heard much from her lately. I miss that, but I am glad her allergies are better. And I am glad her mom is okay.
I am going to Vermont in July. I love going home and I am really looking forward to it. It's funny that Vermont still feels like home. Hopefully people there will like my book since it takes place on the Islands. The local paper, The Islander is going to do a press release for me, and that's exciting.
So here I sit. My palms and the myriad other tropicals I have are so beautiful. When I look outside at the small part of nature that is mine, I smile.
It's a good day.

Traci Hall Author of Love's Magic posts for The Pink Fuzzy Slipper Writers

Please take the time on November 1st to go read and comment on Traci Hall author of 'Loves Magic', a wonderful new paranormal that is on the book shelves for sale now!
Traci also is the author of several YA books that are just as great.
We would love for you to meet this talented author and prior president of the Florida Romance Writers.

A good book

A good book can make you feel better. It can help you to file your problems into the back of your head, it can give you a break, if only for awhile. A good book can take you to places you will never otherwise go, to see in your mind through imagery, those things which you would never otherwise see. Stories introduce you to new people, through which you can learn, with whom you can commiserate. New planets, far away galaxies are right in the same room with you. Ideas which you never thought of zoom through your mind. Learn how to handle new situations, or new problems in the pages of a book. Dogs, cats, horses, and even tigers and lions, find a way into your heart. Sad things, happy things, funny things, reading can take you through a myriad of emotions. Teach yourself new ideas, new knowledge is a gift. Or you can even fall in love with romance. Do yourself the kindest of favors.

Read, read, and read some more. You'll be glad you did.

My blog with Dayana Knight

Today I have a blog with Dayana Knight! I hope anyone who has the chance will take a look.
Have a great day and write you guys, write!
A little reading wouldn't hurt either.

The Funniest Thing That I Ever Saw

The funniest thing I ever saw happened one day when I was chasing my older brother Mike. He always was a stinker, just like any other older brother. He would hit me and and run. I would start to chase him determined to smack him back. Inevitably I would be the one to get yelled at. All my parents ever saw was me going after him.

As a kid I seethed inside. Sneaky son of a gun. I'd get him one way or the other.

At the time we lived in Wantagh, NY. I was in eighth grade and he was, if I remember correctly, two years ahead of me. The house we lived in was a split level on a street called Manchester Road. Now anyone who knows what a split level house is, knows that a series of steps separated one floor from another. The basement had stairs up to first floor that had a bedroom and a bathroom. The first floor stairs to the living room, dining room, and kitchen, on the second floor. Then more steps went up, and on the third floor, was another bathroom and three more bedrooms. A large house for a large family of eight.

Now on the second floor the stairway down had a wall above it. I call it my favorite wall. Anyways, he would hit me run and I was chasing him as usual. But this time he decided to take a leap and skip the seven or so steps down to the first floor. He thought that he'd get clean away again. As I chased him, I watched him attempt to jump down to the first floor landing. And smack, he slammed into the wall above the steps. He slid down to the floor in a crumple. I stopped for a second, not quite understanding what I had witnessed. Then It hit me. I started to laugh, I laughed like I never had before. I laughed until my sides hurt. Apparently one of my sisters also saw the whole thing. She ran over to him, I was still laughing and he was out for the count. Not for long, but long enough for me to finish rolling on the floor.

Luckily he wasn't hurt. Except maybe his budding male pride. I loved it. It made up for years of losing. For years of him throwing acorns on my head and singing, Mary monster to me. For the rest of my life, I got him. I got him and I never laid a hand on him.

It was the funniest thing I ever saw, and the best day I'd ever had. And it still is.

The Lottery Ticket

I had it in my purse for a week, I'd forgotten it was there. I originally started with a $1.- in change.
I figured what the hey, buy a lottery ticket.
Well amaze me, I won $2.-, yippee. So with my $2.- I Won $5.-, I was on my way to a million!
So excitedly I bought that elusive $5.- ticket.
In the back of my head I was rich. I have a friend who actually won $250,000.- on a $10.- scratch off. And If I won $10.- I would buy a biggie, the $10.- out of my range to waste lottery ticket.

And then I forgot about it. It must be the partzeimers.
I met a friend at the Cracker Barrel for lunch, well breakfast cause we love blueberry pancakes.
As I looked in my purse this morning, there it was, my $5.- ticket. Whoo Hoo! What a thrill.
My friend and I put our whammy's on it. Trying to bring me luck and a miracle. Slowly I used my nickel to erase the numbers, starting at the bottom. On the ticket I had there were fifteen numbers and five winning ones. We looked at all the fifteen numbers pushing the lottery doo doo off the table and gearing ourselves for the moment.

I couldn't look at them until I'd uncovered them all. There I was, hoping, smiling and knowing the end was near.

Not a single number, not one, no new ticket, nothin'. Typical, and on the back it said I have a one in three chance of winning something. Yeah right. One in a million. So I threw away the useless ticket. And as I did so I wished my poor luck into the garbage with it.

So now I have to buy two more tickets to win something. No, that's not right, three, because it has to be the same time for the odds to be effective. Geez I wish I had a chance to ask the two suckers in line who bought the next $5.- ticket if they'd won anything. Or does it work like that.

Hmmm. I think if I'm gonna make a million it won't be on the lottery. Now I wish I had my $1.- back.

Blogging With Dayana Knight

Well I just signed up for October 27th to blog with Dayana Knight. Dayana is a sweetheart and a wonderful, talented, author whose books just amaze me.
I met her at a Florida Romance Writers meeting, (a great group of talented authors), and have admired and loved her since the moment we met.
I just can't wait to have her latest release Curse in hand to read!
So please everyone, come and take a look at my first interview blog! I hope I can think of something stunning to say. Ha!
I also can't wait for the release of my book in Digital on 1/2/09 and print 6/27/09, this has been the thrill and most wonderful accomplishment of my life. I hope that the readers like it, so I can continue to write sequels to 'Tripping Through Time'. Be well, and keep on readin'

My Mountain

We own a very small piece of property on the top of a mountain in North Carolina. It's beautiful there. Lush green trees cover the winding roads that lead up to the top. The first time I was there it had nearly impassible, narrow, overgrown, weedy and we had to use a four wheel drive vehicle to get there. But when I got there I was hooked.

Off in the distance there are more mountains. The colors change the farther away it is. Way, way, in the distance they were almost a deep purple. All around me the sounds and sights of nature flooded my senses. The deep earthy smell of fallen branches and leaves released with each step I took. My big black dog sat there like the king of the mountain, now tired from chasing rabbits or whatever other wild creature he found. I knew then and there I was at home. It just hit me, the beauty, the quiet, the isolation, and the feeling that I was a small part of all of this overwhelmed me.

I felt a sense of stepping back in time. I wondered if I had stepped on the same soil that someone years ago had walked. They must have walked because I doubt that a horse could get up the steep inclines. Or maybe they followed trails made by animals. Had anyone ever had a cabin up there? Possibly a trapper lived there with his wife. Gnawing a life from from the land, having children, loving, and living. I was awed at the thought of it.

Of course anywhere in the mountains of North Carolina is like stepping into the past.

So that's when I knew it. I was home. Someday god willing I will be able to build a home there, living with the ghosts of the past and hoping they will share my mountain and let me make history too.

Life Around Me

I sat down to try and do some writing, but I got lost in life around me.

My canary started singing a haunting tune as he sits two feet away from me on his perch. If I close you eyes I can bring my blood pressure down at least 20 points.

Then the sound of the water fountains in my pool, distracts me. I have a lush, emerald, jungle, in my back yard. Huge banana, pink flowering pentas, palms, and a large avocado tree, surround the aqua blue 15X30 pool outside of my sliding glass back door. We put a lot of money into the yard when we both had jobs. Now when I close my eyes I get another 10 points off the BP.

I smell the jasmine it's sweet cloying sense drugs me.

While my eyes are still closed my soft coated, black, German Shepard sits at my feet. My hands use another sense that brings another 10 points at least.

I open my eyes and look at the overwhelming collection of tropicals outside my door. I have achieved a measure of peace that frees my soul. Not to mention another drop in BP.

Then it hits. A wave of power so fierce my heart slams in my chest from the sudden appearance.
the TV sound blasts a mind altering commercial not ten feet from me. The instant sound of the speakers sending strong shocks through my system.

I look up and see it, I thought I had more time, I thought I could heal part of my stressed soul and be more creative. Write more--dream--accomplish.... Those three words undo me, my BP raises 50 points, my body is on flight or fight mode and I suddenly deflate.

I can't write now. The inspiration has left me. The drudgery of repetition brings a huge sigh from deep within me as I rise.

The smell of sweat is repugnant. Black sludge in my kitchen sink has hands are washed with orange degreaser.

He's back..he's so loud, and bossy today, and he says it again, "What's for dinner". He had to work on the car and he hates it and is torturing me because he feels like it. He is really pisssing me off. Another 15 points up, up, up.

Men, my sister always says, it's a matter of finding the least of the worst.

Well maybe tomorrow, if I make it. I'll write some more, (grin) I begin dinner and he really will not like it I can guarantee it. That's the thing with power. The ultimate revenge is in the hands of the cook!

Life in Florida-the Change of Seasons

Florida is a beautiful state. There are bright people here despite the hanging chads. It made us mad too!
Certainly in the dead of a six month long spell of freezing weather, this is paradise. The ocean and palm trees, this is the place to be.

The one thing I miss about not being up North is the wonderful change of seasons. Here in Florida the change is almost imperceptible to anyone who does not live here. It's so subtle in the fall. The first thing I notice is that the crystals I have hanging outside of the back sliding glass doors, will start to throw their rainbows across the room as they move in the breezes, flashing colors around the kitchen and living room in a kaleidoscope effect. The sun has begun to move lower in the sky and more to the south, as it does light finally hits the faceted leaded glass.

The next thing I notice is that at night it is not quite as humid. Usually nightfall doesn't provide much change in the oppression of sauna like heat. Even though it is insidious, it starts to be less stifling outside. There is the hint in the air of subtle change. Yes, the evenings are just a tad less humid. That's about it.

Winter brings less humidity and the chance of temperatures getting below eighty degrees. When you can open the windows it's winter. this is the time the natives bring out their winter coats in preparation for the maybe two or three nights it gets below fifty. Below forty five they break out the gloves.

Spring the heat begins again, till by summer you can fry a egg on your head outside. I haven't tried this, but I've felt the heat on my head and it sure seems like it could cook food. It's cooked my head several times already.

Now it's summer, my crystals are no longer shining into the house to brighten my day. By the time I get from my front door to the car my head is drenched. By the time the AC kicks in my hair lies in wet globs of sweat. I'm having hot flashes from the ninety five degree temps. and the ninety percent humidity. And God help us all there are hurricanes, Florida sticks out into the Atlantic like a thumb.

The only difference between me and the snow birds is the money to leave. How did native Floridians stand it before air conditioning. Can anybody tell me?

Today Was One Of Those Days

The first thing this morning I got a phone call, in which I was told that our vacation was ruined. The poor fellow we rented a cabin in NC for years from had gotten a divorce and the vindictive significant other took it as part of her settlement. Just to break the poor mans heart. He'd worked for years to build it up.

I love NC and finding out that we were not going to be able to go in October broke my heart. I have waited for a year to go and see our property cleared and redyed for the septic system. I was hoping my book sales could help pay to have it put in. Now after scrimping to save the money, we paid and waited for the contractor to do it. Now cleared land must look so much better to be able to view where to put your home. And it would show us what views we might have.

So I'm starting the day pretty bummed already.

Then I go to the Cracker Barrel to exchange my lamp which was purchased in December as a gift for me. The friend who bought it was with me. I had the box, and the charge receipt. I had previously spoken to a manager who told me, "No problem, just bring it in."

So as soon as I walk in I hear an obnoxious voice tell me that that lamp didn't come from this store. They never sold that in the store. So showing her the box with large Cracker Barrel logos, didn't convince her. Simply because she wanted to mess with me. She had an 'attitude' of the worst kind I have ever seen and was so obnoxious, she eventually had me in tears. I'm not done with her.

Next my car. My 1995 Ford Taurus with less than 51,000 miles on it, is messing up again.
The air conditioner had just been repaired, new tires, brakes checked and fluids changed.
Now the check engine light has started to come on, and the engine is missing.

So let me tell you, I had a day. I'm gonna go take a pill and go to sleep.

May tomorrow be another day, only better.

My Husband the Repairman

If something is broken he can fix it. I just gave him the shower cleaning thingee that just stopped working. I hope he can fix it. I hate to buy a new one and I have been pushing for the repair.
He recently fixed my car air conditioning. It took weeks, he's not the youngster he once was. Though I haven't told him so. Living in Florida without AC is like a sentence. By the time you get where you're going, your drenched in sweat. And I don't think a woman my age should sweat.
I haven't got an appliance that isn't 20 years old. That's one downside.
The biggest problem is that he is like the Charlie Brown cartoon character, Pig Pen. Stuff just falls off of him as he walks by. There are screwdrivers and various tools on the TV and saws, drills, etc., by the couch, front door, back door, everywhere.
The kitchen table is hard to find. I know that there is a coffee table under all the stuff.
Every time he starts a new project, out comes more junk. Metric tools and regular tools never find themselves in the tool box, cause he never puts anything away. So he can never find anything. He runs around the house like a madman yelling unintelligible comments under his breath.
When he worked on the roof one time, he got himself up there, and then screamed for two hours for me to get the tools he should have put up there. I am the queen of gofers.
After he finishes his latest project, maybe we can put some of this stuff I trip over away. I can't wait to sit on my couch again, to not need that little flashlight to see what's in the way. To not fall and break my neck, and to look at a neat organized and clean house. Ahhh.

Check that, the washer just broke.

Life is too short to waste on worry

My mother is a worrier, she has suffered the terrible pain of my fathers death at least twenty times. He gets sick, goes into the hospital and she is sure he will die. The fact that the doctor says he'll be okay she still worries. He is usually home the next day. I will say that she will not last long without him. They've been together that long.

And I have come to realize that there must be a worry gene. I will think of absolutely the worst possible scenario's, and none of them happen. I spend nites up until two am., just to worry about something. Mind you most of the time it never happens, but it is my job to worry.

How worrying helps is hard to say. The only thing I can think of it that it occupies my mind. I have nothing to fill the quiet with.

So I guess that's why God invented authors. Because there is nothing in this world that fills the time like a good book. Romance writer...take me away--

The Dentists office

Well, I'm on my way to the dentist. Those words are spoken every day by literally thousands of people. After working in dental offices for so long you'd think the words would mean nothing to me.

But the fear rises. It started back when I was a kid. That long dull needle in the mouth, the smell of the antibacterial solutions. The Drill! Don't forget the dreaded slow grinding drill. Those things are now replaced with disposable, sharp, needles. the sterilizing equipment is state of the art, and the high speed drills make short shrift of decay.

But the fact that they are in my mouth, near my face, my brain, and in a very sensitive area and nerve filled area, somehow makes it scary. I need my mouth.
Today I am just scheduled for a cleaning. Where a smiley fresh faced young female graduate from hygiene school, will attempt to make mincemeat of my gum's, while she scrapes away ugly tarter and stain.

Fluoride came a long way in preventing cavities, now we need something to keep that nasty, gooey, plaque from turning into the dreaded calculus.
If only it were so.

Well here I go, they better not find any cavities or else.

Junior, character in my novel

This is Junior, one of the main characters of my book, "Tripping Through Time". It is a time travel novel which takes place on the Lake Champlain Islands in Vermont. My heroine travels back from 1969 to the year 1869, to find love.

There is everything from barnyard animals to cats and dogs, and from Abenaki Indians to Irish Immigrants. I hope that my readers enjoy it.

Who could resist a doggy face like that.

Emails and when to press send

Today I learned a lesson. No matter how careful you think you are in sending an email, you should double think before you send one.
The first dumb thing I did was to make a political comment on one loop. Now grant you I didn't realize that it was going to the loop, but it did. I thought I was responding to an email sent to me, I should have checked again. See what I mean?
I want to do the right thing and get awfully upset when I mess up.

The second thing that happened was not really directed at me. I belong to a wonderful group of women who have a promotional blog site. One of the women there has had a lot of personal and professional nightmares in her life. She made the mistake of complaining about it on the loop for that group, constantly. Unfortunately she made just to many comments about her problems and some people are sick of it and don't want to hear it. My problem is that my soft heart felt to sorry for her, that I tried to help by giving support, and I feel that just added to the problem. I am so new to all this stuff, I didn't know any better, but I do

I think that one must learn where and when to vent and believe me I learned a lot on the subject today. People need positive input and that's is what they are looking for. We all have problems, but we need to know who and when to tell them too. Life is short, and I want to forget my problems, and everyone surely feels the same.

So I learned a lesson, don't send any email until you are sure you have the correct address in your mailbox. And try not to get too involved with others issues.

I feel like a dinosaur, things were different for me in my youth. People were different and maybe I should have been born so that I was an adult when "My Three Sons" was on TV. Life was different, you didn't have to worry about this kind of thing. The wasn't any internet then and the best you could do was make a phone call. But then again I remember being very young when there were party lines, people would listen to everyone's phone calls and then gab the latest. You learned a lot about what to say on a phone line. A lot of dirty laundry got aired that way. So emails are the party lines of the day.

Email away, but know that you are talking to potentially tons of people, and you'd do better to put your best foot forward. I think that's a life lesson, put your best out there and the best will come back to you.

So take it from me. Be very, very, careful when you decide to press that send button, think before you press SEND, you'll be glad you did.

Tell me the Truth!

There is one thing that people constantly do that just makes me crazy, they lie.
I catch them all the time, but I keep it to myself mostly, they get to defensive when confronted.
I understand a lie to protect someone. If a lie will save someone being upset over stupidity, or if it causes unnecessary hurt to tell the truth, lie.
If it makes your mom feel better to tell her you're fine, lie.
But don't lie to make yourself look better. Don't lie and make promises, you aren't going to keep. Don't try to make your mistakes look better by telling lies.
If I ask your opinion, I need the truth, or I wouldn't ask you. Don't gossip, in fact most gossip is based on cruel lies.
For me the truth is what makes you good to me. The truth even if it hurts me, is always better than a lie. I will eventually hear the truth, and I'll know you lied.
The problem with telling a lie is that your mind will forget it. The truth we always remember, a lie is often forgotten.
When my friend asked me what my biggest pet peeve is, this is what I told her. I told her I'd tell the world, so here it is my friend. I told you I don't lie.

Jealousy

I have to admit that when I have been listening to everyone talk I am jealous.

What a thrill it must be to meet all of those authors up on a pedestal above us. The ones who put romance books on the real books list. Far cry from the old dime store novels of years ago.

Someone sat near Nora Roberts, Beth Trissel, the same dynamo who was a runner up in the Golden Hearts award. The thrill must have had her heart going double time.
Mona Risk met friends from all over and hobnobbed with romance royalty. Dressed up in lovely gowns and feeling like princesses, they were part of the romance awards. And being there itself, was a prise.

Someday I'm gonna go to RWA Nationals, someday. Someday I will go on a FRW cruise. Yep, right there next to the best of ours I'll stand. Well maybe sit, I'll be in my 90's.
I'll be able to meet all of the people I have spent a fortune on buying their books.
And maybe, just maybe if I'm lucky. I will be a name somebody recognizes. Now wouldn't that be all of it, me the one hit wonder. Somebody will ask for my autograph, and I will be there in the picture smiling.

Wait I just woke up. I'll be fortunate if my editor wants my second book. Oh well, smacked by reality again. I will live even if I had only this one success. 'Tripping Through Time', my story will be published. That's an award in itself for me.

Publish Date and Jianne Carlo

Well I am getting closer to getting a publish date. I should know within the next two weeks when. I will be so glad to finally get it, and so hoping that it will sell. Time will tell, whether people want to take a trip through time with me or not. I wonder whether I should dye my hair for the occasion. Ha!

My friend Jianne Carlo just published her book. In the first two weeks she sold over 640 books. I am amazed, I know she is a fantastic writer, but how did everyone else know? There is now way I could match those figures. I am just in shock, and once they read it, Manacled in Monaco will be a new hit. I just feel it in my bones. Jianne is a beautiful, educated, petite, classy and motivated woman. I think she would be a success at whatever she wrote about, but this story is killer. There is so much sex, fantastic imagery, great dialogue, a riveting story in a romantic tropical setting; yes I'm saying it, this story rocks. Jianne reminds me what it was like when I was younger. How my heart beat when he drove up in front of my house. Those feelings all came back to me, and I remember the lust very well. Hmmm where is he?

Congratulations, to my friend and critique partner. I am so lucky to know you. You are a class act, and a great writer. I wish you the best.

No One Comments

I just got to thinking. Why do most people visit a site or a blog, spend time there, read, watch a trailer, whatever, they never leave a comment.
No one says, hey you stink, so if you do you don't know it. No one says, that was great, so if you were you don't know that either.
Is it fear, maybe, but...no they could go anonymous.
Maybe it's, they don't care.
Maybe no one reads your stuff.
Or could it be that people just think it's too much effort. Just that key stroke or two. What is it?
I make myself do it when I go to most blogs or sites, just because I know how much that person wants me to comment.
Am I nuts? Or do I care and no one else does. Tell me.
Why is it that no one comments.

Aging Parents

My poor older brother is the one who takes most of the brunt of family illness problems, he lives in the same town as my parents and two sisters. One lives with them she is a bit slow, but without her to be the gofer, my parents be lost. My other sister is disabled and has given up on life.

I don't know how many times my parent have called him at all hours. They don't want to call 911, they are afraid of the expense involved. They can well afford it, so I don't get it. They decided to call this time, luckily for my father or he would have bled to death. He is not in great shake, on dialysis due to kidney failure and has every other aging problem there is. Dialysis is rough on those who suffer it to stay alive.

Not only does he have to deal with all that. But he stopped at my sister's house to help with her pepsi addiction, (she was out of it), and found her passed out in her bedroom, he thought she was dead. Instant heart failure followed as he tried to wake her. She finally came around, the problem is over medication. She's given up and that's her whole life. Taking that pain medication.

I think that's what made my father give up too.
How do you get a stubborn man who refuses to get the help he needs, get that help?
We are going to try to talk to him. Me and my two brothers, since out of the six of us, there are only three of us who function independently.

How do you intimidate a man who has spent his whole life intimidating us, into doing the right thing? It's a conundrum.

My parents do not face reality. And unfortunately, they will have no choice.

Getting old is a scary thing. And I can't do a thing about that either.

Mary Stella and a free book for a donation

Mary Stella, a co-member of the Florida Romance Writers, FRW,is a wonderful author. She just got a shocker from our main group the Romance Writers of America, RWA. She won't be participating in a long anticipated book Literary book signing, in San Francisco.

They changed the qualifying rules, and got "uninvited", sadly her books were both published prior to 2007. Rather than brood, she has decided to make, "lemonade out of lemons".

Get a free book for a small donation to the Literary chapter in your area. $2, $5, $10, on up, whatever you can afford. After all it is about reading and the readers, in the end, that's all that matters. Get yourself a great book whose story is set in the Florida Keys, and is a contemporary romance.

You'll be getting a great book and doing a good thing.

Right?

Time Travel

So where would you go if you could travel in time? Would you like to meet a native American Indian, say in 1815? The settlers of this country were horrible to them. How about in a romance novel type of scene?

Maybe, or maybe not, depends on where in the US you are at the time. Is your idea of the best trip to go to the future. Say 2050, the world could be in a devastating depression, or we could be at the dawn of a new day. I guess that depends on whether we vote Republican or Democrat. What the heck happened to that social security surplus anyways?

I could go back and change a few mistakes I made, undo some things I would rather not have done or said. Would it change my life?

One time I had just stepped on a needle and it broke in my foot into five pieces, I guess those wooden Dr. Scholl's weren't a good idea. I was just out of the hospital, having to remove the needle pieces surgically. I felt like doo doo. Now mind you I had just sent in 800, yes 800, entries into a contest for $250,000, The Lucky Lady Sweepstakes. I had just answered four calls, which I had to crawl on the floor to get to the phone to answer. So this particular call I just answered,"I don't want any." Some guy said. "You don't want any. Are you sure?" Something along those lines. My firm yes and hang us settled that.

And then I got to thinking. About a week later I received in the mail three sets of second prises, two tickets to the movie. Now mind you there were only five second prise winners. So did I blow it or not? I will always wonder. It could have changed my life so much for the better. You just never know.
Moral of the story, wait and see who is on the phone before you dismiss them. Ha. Live and learn!

World Erotic Art Museum

Well not only did I get to see South Beach, which I have never seen, but I got to see the WEAM, the World Erotic Art Museum. A more unique collection of erotic art could not possibly exist. I saw things from 500 yrs BC, to the always lovely Marilyn Monroe. Definitely a place to see.
I was surprised at the quality of the artwork. Yes I did see Homer Simpson with an erection, but I also saw a number of wonderful things. I myself especially loved some of the nude paintings. Some of them were done with such emotion and beauty, I would love to have one for my living room.
Check it out in South Beach, and then walk along the beach and see people just as interesting and diversified.
We have a book signing panel event at the museum. The very first one I ever participated in and I am still here to tell about it. Whew, I made it!

My Secret Garden

I have some plant juice running in my veins, it's the only conclusion I could come to.
No matter where I am it's about the colors, feel the textures, and inhale the fragrance of flowers and foliage. The intricate weaving of just the right plant, (whatever I could afford at the time), made for a "fairyland effect", to quote a friend. From the ground cover, to the rare peach tree, to the many varieties of palms and ferns, the stepping stones,and statues below billowing wind chimes; they all take me to my secret place. I'm in my secret garden.
Butterflies hover over sub tropical blooms, Jasmine blooms while chameleons run through the glossy leaves of the banana plants. A slight gust of wind cools my corner of the myriad of sensual overload.
I sit. Inhaling the perfume of the garden, I put the one thing in my hand that only makes this moment perfect. A good romance book.

My Reincarnated Dog.

Whenever I am upset, my dog knows. Even if I do not show it he knows. He will come and lay near me, his huge, heavy, black head resting on my foot, the contact comforting. His loving eyes follow me where ever I go, loving me unconditionally. He trust that when he is hurt I will fix it, when he is hungry I will feed him, let him out when he has to go out, and take him for a ride in the car.
All I have to do is say, "Do you want to go for a ride?", and he quivers with anxiousness, leash in his mouth. Or maybe I might say,"Do you want to go swimming?", he's at the back door, floating toy clutched between huge teeth, squeaking that toy for all he's worth. I ask if he wants to eat, and he will bring me his dish. Tell him to get up on the bed, he's there. He is so smart it's scary. It's almost like he is a reincarnated human.
He loves cats and has a healthy respect for their claws, but when he sees one in the yard he will chase it. He especially loves little dogs, and when he is too overpowering and they let him know, he backs away. He will not fight with other dogs, he is a pacifist.
When I cry, he comforts me. He tries to give me a toy, that ought to do it. And if nothing else works he kisses me and gives me doggy hugs. It's that real love that I see in his adoring eyes, and I love him back, more than anything. Sometimes more then that husband who might have made me cry. He's the baby I never had. If anyone had told me my children would be huge German Shepherds, I'd have laughed. But there it is, he's the best friend I've got. He loves me no matter how bad I look, no matter how dumb I might sound, no matter what mistakes I make. He loves me, he is devoted to me, and I love him. The saddest part of the whole thing is that I will outlive him, just like I have his predecessors.
But for me I'll take that pain and live with it. The alternative is unthinkable.
I just hope that when I die, I have been as good as he has, so that I can see him, and all the others, in heaven. That has to be where he will go and I want to meet the pack I have lost someday.
Now that would be heaven wouldn't it?

Giving Advice

My husband and I are both very sympathetic people. We've had a lot of hurdles to cross and we are both aware how hard life can be. I feel like a phone psychiatrist, however.
I listen to people say the same things over and over, and I try to offer advice.

Chris' friend who lives in Texas just bought a house. Later on he learned that the house had a huge fire and a lot of damage was just covered up and not fixed. Well his $200,000 home is now worth $50,0000. Chris has talked to him on Skype dozens of times. He offers advice, his friend does not listen. He meets a stranger who he discusses his problem with, and that person gives him the same advice. And now he listens. What's up with that?
I think that friends don't want your advice. They just want a shoulder to cry on. Trouble is that when you know what they are doing wrong and they won't listen, it drives you crazy. So what does a good friend do.

I think you have to swallow your comments and listen. And let me tell you, listening, just plain listening, is an art. It can be a pain, but it's an art. It hopefully pays you back, when that friend listens to you.

My Big Black German Shepherd Dog

Junior is a big boy. He weighs about 125lbs or so. He takes up a very big portion of the bed. Every night he gets up on the bed and waits for his biscuits, one handful leads to two. All he does to tell me he wants more is to kick me with his back foot and whine a bit. Now who would have thought I would be catering to a big baby dog at my age.
He's very bossy, if the phone rings he gets agitated, he hates the phone and barks until you're off. I've had to leave the room. If it's time for dinner, hes at the his dish giving me the "well", look.
But mostly he's sensitive. If I cry he puts his head in my lap. He always shares my pain. And in doing so he makes me feel better. That's why God gave us dogs. To take up room on the bed, to keep you going with demands, and best of all to love. Because he loves me no matter what. How often can you say that and be positive you're right.
Do you have an animal you love, and why? What's so special about your pet?

Trailers

Well I really think I have the perfect trailer. People have commented on both the website and the music for the trailer, as well as the trailer. I will be posting the trailer in about a week. If there is anyone out there in space. Please take a look and see. Tell me what you think of both.
Then as soon as it comes out, buy my book, tell then what you think. I can take it.

A lot of people are going on vacation, spending all they planned to buy good stuff with. The candle money is now in your tank. Imagine that.

Today

Today I got my canary to go on my finger. Now those of you who don't have a canary or have never had one, don't know how hard a feat that is. Canaries are so skid-dish, they are really scared to be touched. You can train them, but why bother, it's hard and they do all the work they need to when they sing. It's soul stirring, moving, and beautiful enough to make you cry, when you hear it.
Now he is a male or he wouldn't be singing. But he has taken to sitting in his food dish like he's sitting on a nest. He goes into a zone and actually lets me touch him. His little beak tries to bite my skin, to no avail. But he's acting tough. I just push my finger underneath him, till he jumps on my finger. He'll sit there a minute and then realizes where he is. He flies off to a perch.
And me I get my thrill for a day. I have my canary, who speaks to me, and asks me to take the top off his food dish,(actually quite bossy), so he can use it as a bed. He sings to me, , he sits on my finger, he makes me forget the day is bad, and remember the beauty of nature in his big voice. And he eats a lot of food, producing a lot of, well you know.
I have my canary and he sings to me, just me, that's so special.

Here I am world.

Yes, here I am world. Wondering if anyone is really reading this. Wondering if I'm talking to air.

I have just published my first book! Now to me it's like this. I have no children, sadly, our lives just didn't go that way. Not that it wouldn't have been wonderful.
So I sat and thought, why was I born, what have I done or could do, to make a wave in this ocean of life? I really have not got enough talent at anything. I've got a little bit of the ability to do a lot of things. But real talent?

What could I do to leave a piece behind? I've always liked to write. Just most of what I've written has been disposed of. I've read thousands of book, from fantasy to romance. Right now I'm into time travel romance, I love it.

So I started to write, mostly late at night. In one of those black and white composition books.

Eventually I got a computer, and after slowing writing and rewriting for four years I got to submit to an editor. I'll tell you how hard that is at another time.

After changing even more things in the book, a lot more things. I got an offer to publish my story.

I still have not celebrated, imagine that. I haven't even done the happy dance.
The only thing I can think is that I'm so shocked anyone liked what I wrote, read it, and wants to publish it. That I cannot believe it.

Maybe someone else did it. Whoever it was please step forward, I need to know. I remember doing it, but I could have dreamt it.

It's a time travel romance, and it's very good, even if I do say so myself. That person inside me, trying to get out, is still there. I hope that all of me learns to believe in me, in this venue. Just think what I could accomplish then.

And someday, years from now, someone will know I lived and I could write. I won't just have been a feather in the wind, but rather a force.

Wouldn't that be great?

What and When

I wonder what will happen in the next ten years. As I look in the mirror and see the changes. But they don't reflect the changes in my soul.
Am I a better person than I was ten years ago. God I hope so.
A smarter person, I think so.
More sensitive, I know so. When I see the changes I know what I am. Just a person like anyone else.
But if I'm really lucky, I can do something that leaves people to remember me fondly.
Even if it's just because they read my book.

Tonight I Wonder

Tonight I wonder. I wonder if anyone will buy my book and read it. And then really love it. I wonder if Chris can save the huge avocado in my yard. He finds it infested with ants, they have dug a huge hole in the side where a large branch was removed. First he removed my large beautiful stag horn fern growing on the side of the tree. I had to leave. Hence the I wonder thing.

I wonder if my car air conditioner is too expensive to fix. Or for that matter the steering. I wonder if my twenty five year old house a.c. will last much longer. Or my dishwasher, refrigerator etc. I wonder if it will rain tomorrow. My lawn is so dead. I also think, please God no more hurricanes, I can't take it, I have no shutters! And the lack of electricity in the heat is the worst of it. A couple of storms is okay, but please no hurricanes.

Then my mind travels to clothes. I never buy clothes so I don't have any. How the heck can I go to a book signing at an Erotic Museum with no decent clothes. They'll think I'm a slob. And what the heck am I doing going to a book signing at an erotic museum in the first place. Oh well, I'll check out the art anyways.

When is motivation going to hit me and I can start pumping out pages? I wonder. Even ten a day. What's wrong with me? How come I'm not smart enough to promote like everyone else? It takes me all day to read all the mail. Well I goof off a lot. You know this leads to that, and you have dog fir all over the place that needs to be cleaned up.

This is what I do at night when I should be sleeping. My mind races with the thoughts I keep out of my head all day. What does that leave me! I wonder.

Reading, ah yes...reading. I pick up where I left off in that mind distracting novel I have dived into. Then tomorrow I'll write, because reading reminds me what it's all about. Reading takes me away from those problems I don't want to think about. Who said escape is bad. Not this kind. It's a miracle.

What do you think?

Well Here I Am

Well if things work out right I am posting on my very own blog. Now that might not seem like a big deal to you. But if I told you that three years ago I didn't know how to turn on a computer, you'll get why it's a big deal. That I had to be dragged into this kicking and screaming should go for something. It got to me however, when I realized that typing it on a typewriter just wouldn't cut it. How did they ever do it before typewriters, the thought is mind boggling.
It all started when I took a look at me, my life, my goals, and decided to redefine them. I had come to a point where I wanted to prove something to myself, just myself. That I could do this. That I could write a book. I have been writing my whole life, and throwing it all away. I thought maybe it isn't all that bad. Maybe I could write a book that someone else would like to read. That someone else might enjoy, might pass it along and someone might even buy it! Wouldn't that prove that I had talent. Wouldn't that prove that I could be proud of something I had accomplished. I decided it would, because it would make me an author. Something I have always wanted to be, and never had the courage to try to do.
Tripping Through Time is the culmination of my efforts, the changes and rewrites only made me more sure I could do it. I watched my story grow from idea to story and I'm pretty proud of it. I hope you all will read my book, and enjoy it. I hope it entertains you and I hope it takes you away for awhile. Just a little while forget your troubles and read.
In the meantime, I'll let you know my release date as soon as I do.
Thanks for listening, and happy reading.