The American Embassy in Ottawa, Canada

In my last year of high school my father was stationed in Canada as an Immigration Attache'. The American Embassy where he worked, was located across the street from the Parliament building, in downtown Ottawa. I remember it was a beautiful building, and every day they would have a changing of the guard ceremony. Dark horses, tails braided, hoofs painted black, pranced as excitement passed from one to the other throughout the performance.

The Canadian guardsmen dressed in kilts and plumed hats, were so young and handsome, that as a sixteen year old I was impressed. Toward the very end of it, the horses started to dance and caper, their excitation. They loved to run and they knew what was coming. And then for the finale they galloped at full speed from one end of the field to the other. An awe inspiring sight that you could see from the Embassy windows. Very cool.

My father was the perfect diplomat, he could talk anybody into anything. I once watched him take a five year old broken disposal all unit back to the store and he came home from the store with a free new one. It had to be the perfect job for him.

I met then president, Lyndon B. Johnson, and vice president, Hubert Humphrey, at the American Embassy. The vice-president tried to pick up my youngest brother. He was very cute, but chubby. He couldn't lift him.

A most thrilling day for me was the day I brought my high school class there. I was a senior at Hillcrest High School. The ambassador, Mr. Butterworth, came out and addressed my class, and suddenly I became a bit more popular. Go figure.

What I remember the most was my father dressed up in a suit and tie, always impeccably. He was very handsome, with dark hair and eyes, and he always wore after shave. He showed the class all around the very extravagant Embassy. As we stood by the front entrance we listened to him talk, just before we left. I looked down and saw that we all stood on a huge rug that had the American Eagle, and tons of stars and stripes on it, very patriotic and very American.

I never felt so proud of my father or my country as that very moment. He was a diplomat and he loved his job.

Scenes from Vermont childhood

After my book was released on the first, I heard from a special close friend who I patterned a character in my book after. She reminded me of these two events

It must have been 1968 when we were on vacation in Vermont. Lake Champlain is one of the most beautiful places in the world. The VonTrapp family didn't go to Vermont for nothing. From Mount Mansfield, to Keeler's bay on the lake, there is nothing to compare to the scenery and the ambiance.

In the fifties and sixties there were lots of little gift shops everywhere. My mother and grandmother collected Fenton ware and tea cups galore. You know the kind of stuff they are calling shabby sheik and selling for a fortune to us boomers. It decorates tea rooms and little cafes. And we are buying it, it brings back memories, and it really is nice stuff.

Anyways, my whole family was there and my parents had allowed me to bring along my best friend Betsy from Canada. We had such a good time, water skiing in water so cold I wouldn't put my toe in it now. But to the young it is still a great lake for swimming, boating, fishing, you name it.

Well one night the whole family and several relatives were at camp and it was dark out. One of those nights on which you can see the milky way. And everyone started screaming, "there's a UFO outside right overhead." A massive scramble of people from the beach, the camp, out front sitting on the porch, or just anywhere, streamed out to the front lawn to get a glimpse.

They were all oohing and aahing. "Look at the lights, Oh my God, they might land." A myriad of yelling people massed a little closer together, and got quiet. And then it was gone, just like that. It was a huge ship in everyone's mind and to this day I have no idea what it was. And to this day I am pissed that I wasn't wearing my glasses and couldn't see a damn thing. I hated the way I looked in those horrible black foggles my parents had picked out. So I missed it.

The next day my friend and I decided to go for a rowboat ride. We hopped in the boat and started to leave. Then I heard it from my dad, "take your sisters with you." Just great, they wanted to be wherever I was and I wanted to have a little time to myself. So the two brats jumped in wobbling the boat horrible. And if I am not wrong, my other sister wanted in too.

So Betsy and I started to row, and we got quite a ways from shore. We might have tried to fish, I just don't remember. But after awhile in the hot sun, with no water, we decided to head back in. So we started to row, and row, and row, but we still drifted further from shore. Just then my parents and uncles and aunts drove by in a speedboat waving as they left. We started screaming for help, but I guess they thought we were waving and couldn't hear us over the motor.

I don't have to tell you what kind of mood we were all in when the cruiser's drove back by an hour or so later. They towed us in. To this day I have never set foot in a rowboat since and I never will.

Ah childhood how did we survive it?

Tripping Through Time Is Number One

My first published book, Tripping Through Time, that was released in ebook format today, is as I write the number one best seller of the paranormal romance Faery line at my publisher, The Wild Rose Press. It is also the number two best seller of all books today. I don't know what that means, but it sure feels good!

I knew I could do something! I just knew it. And I love to write, I always have. I should have thought of trying sooner. But I'm mighty glad I did it now.

Buy my book at The Wild Rose Press, I think you will like it.

"Tripping Through Time" First Novel released.

Tomorrow January 2nd, 2009, is the day my first book is released in digital format.
On March 27th, it will be in print. It's a time travel romance novel, published by The Wild Rose Press

A young girl, with emotional scars, finds a Celtic ring in the waters of Lake Champlain. this ring transports her back one hundred years in time to the year 1969. Keealyn McCalley finds herself, two wonderful children to love, a new home and through all of her trials, the love of a great man. Keealyn leans that love is truly timeless.

This book is proof that I was here. It gives me the first of a lot of firsts. First book, first published author in my family, first notable accomplishment. Well you get it right? I am proud of myself. I have a talent, I wish I could have figured it out years ago, but let that be. I am here now.
I used whatever came to my head. This story was inside of me trying to get out. And I let it out. In doing so I became an author. Not just someone who writes, but I am a published author. I am so proud of that, it is my greatest accomplishment. And it will always be mine, no one can take it away. I did it!

There is something about this that will stay with me for the rest of my life. Someday, someone will pick up my book, years from now, and say I was.
That I was a person who tried to live a good life, who tried and finally found her one talent, and decided to try to use it. And that this person, had an imagination, and people liked to read her stories.

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!