Dragons to Tame

Spectre of Intention

2011-11-22T22:24:00.000-08:00

by Tonya Macalino

Kaitlin Osgood has a stowaway. Underneath the glossy shell of the Senior VP for Countermeasures International lurks the tattered remains of the girl she once was: street rat and thief, Ashley Porter. Every day, every decision is brittle with the fear of discovery.

In the middle of the Pacific Ocean on the cruise ship acting as the platform for the latest space elevator, she should finally be safe…

…safe from the sexy, enigmatic eyes of Director of Port Security Camden Glaswell, who seems to see through Kaitlin’s ruse.

…safe from the relentless, burning pursuit of master thief Stephan Chen, the chief architect of Kaitlin’s former life of crime—the onetime lover who haunts her still.

But Kaitlin has another secret: her talent for security comes not from the latest technology, but from her ability to sense people’s emotions, to see the ghosts of their intentions.

It’s a talent she must learn to wield as a weapon before the mistakes of her past cost Kaitlin her life…

When you can’t run any further, you must turn and fight, but if one of the people you have to fight is inside your mind, what then?

Kaitlin is a costume our heroine wears, a persona she pulls on to exude competence and confidence, neither of which she feels the moment she learns the thief she used to work for (her former lover) is on board. Who is the narrator, really? She used to be Ashley—indeed Ashley’s panic over people in her past finding her propels much of the action—but she keeps Ashley locked up as tight as she can behind a door in her mind. Who is she now? Who will she be from this moment forward? All questions she must put on hold, teetering on the edge of forging the unknown future while a homicidal thief threatens her security.

Kaitlin’s friends attempt to help her but full disclosure is not an option. She knows something bad, very very bad, is about to happen onboard the ship but has only hazy details and no rational explanation for how she comes by her information.

The author skillfully winds us in future-tech woven with psi-abilities and explores every person’s right to privacy. Action-packed, Spectre of Intention is ripe with physical vocabulary designed to keep you attuned to Kaitlin’s fear and longing. An intelligent, well-researched scifi is always good to find, and I learned a ton about space elevators. The human story in this book balances the physical science for the technically impaired, mixed in with spicy scenes of passion between the heroine and Cam Glaswell (fans self).

The lovely and multi-talented Ms. Macalino was a kick to hang out with at Orycon 33 (seriously, check out her cosmetic and bath product line if you’re ever in downtown Hillsboro, OR on the 200 block of Main St.; visit Jacobsen’s Books and then pop across the street to the coffee shop.) and this book is one of the fastest reads I’ve picked up in a while, always a sign of smooth writing. Readers have more to look forward to from this author as well; a series set in Venice is next on her agenda. Check the author’s website.

Spectre of Intention is available at Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com

Same As It Never Was

2011-11-16T08:32:00.000-08:00

by Gabrielle Lucas

An artist with recurring dreams and the psychiatrist whose dreams mirror hers…is she a patient who needs his help? Or his soul mate from another time?

Psychiatrist Max Molinari specializes in past life regression. For years, he’s waited for a dream lover—the woman he has loved in many past lives—to walk through his door. Could his new patient be the one?

Artist Roz Lennon needs help unraveling her dreams of places she's never been and a man she's never met. When Roz draws the exact people and scenes from Max’s own regressive dreams, he has to fight to maintain his professional distance.

Roz could be the woman he’s searched for all his life, but he cannot lead her to that conclusion. Will Roz recognize him as they explore her dreams? Or is their soul-deep love all in his head?

How can a man who specializes in discerning delusion from reality rationalize his own experience? Roz is not the one Max expects, certainly--abraisive, abrupt, direct, guarded. And she thought he'd be taller...I enjoyed this brief tale of two people dancing around the truth, each afraid to share too much with the other for fear it wouldn't be true. In between, the author takes us back in time to three earlier eras where these two souls had crossed paths before. Wonderfully romantic in setting and in theme. Highly recommended.

Excerpt:
I looked for the artist’s name. Finding none, I hurried over to Barb and said, “Excuse me. Barb, do you know you drew those pencil sketches near the coat room?”

Eyebrows raised and with a slight annoyance in her voice, she said, “You’re not going to buy anything, are you? The prices are outrageous.”

“Do you know who drew them?” I asked again.

“No, Max, I don’t. Go see that guy,” she said, pointing. “The one near the toilet sculpture over by the door. He’s the owner of the gallery and an art dealer. I’m sure he’ll know. But Max—”

Before she could finish I was halfway across the room.

The owner, a guy named Gil Gregory who looked like he’d just emerged from a smoky, 60s, Beatnik poetry-reading room, told me, “She’s local. I have her card in my office but it’s locked right now and—”

“Can you find it?”

He glanced around the room. “I’m kinda busy right now, Mr.—”

“Doctor. Dr. Max Molinari. You don’t remember her name?”

“She brought these in at the last minute. She’s not really a serious artist. She has a full-time job.”

He said this with some disdain, as if having a regular paycheck was beneath an “artiste.”

“I only put her work in the show as a favor to a mutual friend,” he added.

I took out a business card and handed it to him. “Will you please give her this? Will you be seeing her soon? Can you call her tomorrow?”

I was rambling. I sounded like an idiot. I didn’t care…All my life, I had anticipated that I would see a stranger across a crowded room, she would see me, and we would know. Music crescendos, mad dash to each other, Hollywood ending.

BUY HERE Faery Rosette

Book Signing

2011-11-07T13:50:00.000-08:00

It occurs to me I should post news here of where I can be found in public.

November 11-13 I'll be at OryCon 33, an Oregon Science Fiction Convention, signing copies of my book in the dealer room, at the table for Jacobsen's Books. Admission to the convention is affordable for these sort of things and is being held at the Portland (Lloyd Center) Doubletree Hotel (ironically, this is the same hotel where I attended Epicon in 2008).

Yes, I'm bringing my camera for all the Trekkers, Battlestar Galactica, Browncoats, steampunkers, and all the cosmic weirdness a scifi con attracts--fun fun fun! I will be in geek heaven.

Just Out of Reach

2011-09-19T10:25:00.000-07:00

Just Out of Reach by Lee Darling

After a painful divorce, Jessie Lochwood retreats to her hometown on the Oregon Coast. Her plans for a week of quiet reflection are blown apart when she finds a leather jacket on a lonely beach.

A letter in the pocket swirls her into her past and into a dangerous search for the missing brother of a childhood chum.

Recovering alcoholic Jessie comes face-to-face with ghosts from her past as she pursues a violent, abusive man and the woman he controls.

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This mystery tale brings to life the windy southern coast of Oregon around Bandon, the westernmost point on the continental U.S. For the setting alone I enjoyed the book, being from Oregon myself, but the characters and mystery are well drawn and fast-paced. The reader has the feeling that Jesse is ready to leave town at any time, just after she does this one last favor...well, okay, one more...I can't leave yet, I need to tell--and so the book goes, with our heroine reluctant to get invovled yet unable to deny her helpful nature.

Jesse wants to move forward in her life and heal from past wrongs, but by returning home and involving herself in an old friend's family business she is reminded all too often how she did not fit in back then and still might not. A touch of romance is woven into this journey as well, and a decision many divorcees face--to continue alone, lonely and friendless, in the city where you were abandoned, or return home where past mistakes haunt you but at least the people who remember you care about whether you live or die.

I, too, found myself caring about Jesse and wanting the others in the story to see her for who she is now, not who she was when last she lived in the town. This story shows well the impact of a reputation and the reprecussions, and the uphill battle to prove you've changed. Well done!

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Lee Darling has lived in Oregon since 1961. She has received awards for non-fiction essays and for poetry. Her personal essays have been published in the Write On! column of The Register-Guard. Just Out of Reach is her first novel.

Find out more about the book at: www.scatteredbumps.blogspot.com

BUY THE BOOK on Amazon.com

Spirit of the Lake

2011-05-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

by Paty Jager is the second in her series about the Nimiipuu tribe (Nez Perce) of the Wallowa Mountains in NE Oregon.

A brutal attack leaves Dove, a Nimiipuu maiden, pregnant and alone. Her tribe refuses to hear the truth—that the White man who took her body also plans to take their land. She walks into the lake to end both her life and her despair.

Wewukiye, the lake spirit, uses his human form to save Dove from drowning. Learning the reason she longs to end her mortal existence, he vows to care for her until she gives birth. Together, they will restore her place in her tribe and prove the White man is not the Nimiipuu’s friend. But to help her he must keep his spirit identity hidden.

As Dove and Wewukiye pursue their quest for justice, Dove reveals spiritual abilities yet unknown in her people, ensnaring Wewukiye’s respect and awe. But can love between a mortal and a spirit grow without consequences?

In the first book, Himiin, the Spirit of the Mountain, fell in love with the Nimiipuu girl, Wren. This story picks up two generations later when Himiin's youngest daughter is an old woman. Wewukiye seeks his niece's assistance to provide a home for Dove while he helps her find a way to prove to her tribe that the white man who assaulted her aims to take over the Nimiipuu lands and drive the tribe away. As one of three--now two--spirit guides to the tribe, Wewukiye cannot let that happen. Yet he is so taken with this young woman that his sister, Sa-qan, is alarmed he'll anger the Great Spirit by getting too involved with mortal matters. (The author has promised to make Sa-qan's come-uppance spectacular in book 3, and I can hardly wait to read it).

This series is a fabulous look at an earlier era in my state's history. The scenery alone is worth reading the books for. Ms. Jager brings to life an ancient people while at the same time showing how the tribe has changed in the two generations that have passed since the first book. Very well researched and painted.

EXCERPT

Wewukiye tugged her hand, drawing her closer. His warm breath puffed against her ear.

"You need only think of me and you will have strength."

His soft silky voice floated through her body like a hot drink.

Dove swallowed the lump in her throat and asked, "When will I see you again?" The thought of sleeping on the hard ground next to the fire in Crazy One's dwelling didn't sound near as inviting as using his lap to rest her head.

The days and nights grew colder; to be wrapped in his arms would warm her through and through.

"You will find me at the meadow every day when the sun is directly overhead." He brushed his lips against her ear.

She closed her eyes, relishing the silky feel of his lips and the heat of his touch.

"Think of me," whispered through her head.

Dove opened her eyes. She stood alone. Her palm still warm from their clasped hands, her ear ringing with his whisper.

Pieces of Me

2011-04-21T03:00:00.000-07:00

I'm guest blogging today at Faith V. Smith's blog about how I chose characteristics for my hero and heroine that were different from each other but all traits in me. Join me over there and comment!

Victoriana Adventure

2011-04-13T15:27:00.000-07:00

by Heather Hiestand, a rosette-length Faery story from The Wild Rose Press.

Marooned in backward Victoriana by a magical Christmas cracker, Ollie Brown wants to get home to modern Tacoma. The enticing girl who shelters him tempts him to stay in this alternate reality, but what does a nineteenth century princess need with a twenty-first century skateboarding chemist in a world where science is banned?

Princess Lenchen thrills at the chance to assist the handsome stranger who speaks of oddities like candy bars and “grinding.” Ollie offers a breath of freedom, but Lenchen knows he feels trapped and out of place. She reluctantly tries to help him find a way back to his world, though she longs to know more about him—and to escape her cloistered life in the widowed Queen Victoria’s court.

Every girl wants her own Cinderella story, even if she's already a princess—but if Ollie stays with her, will he be allowed to be himself?

This sweet short story is a sequel to Victoriana, a story published in 2006 by Highland Press. In spite of the Christmas theme to the cover and presence of a Christmas cracker, this is not a Christmas story. Follow skateboarding college boy Ollie on his adventure into manhood in another time and another place. Toto, we're not in Tacoma anymore!

EXCERPT

After he chewed the confection, his lips broke into the first genuine smile she’d seen all day.

“This is much better than my stale candy. You did good.”

“I wanted you to have a taste of home,” she confessed, filled with pride and lit from inside by his smile. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

He reached out his hand to cover hers. Startled, Lenchen fought propriety to allow the touch. She could feel the strength in his rough, warm hand. Her heart fluttered, and she pressed her lips together to keep from saying something foolish. Her body betrayed her, however, and she bent her head to hide the heat she knew painted pink across her cheeks.

“You’ve been a great friend,” he told her, before releasing her hand.

She stood, shaky. He felt like more than a friend to her, but this would never do. “I should go, before I’m late for tea. Tardiness would displease my mother.”

BUY HERE

Reviews wanted

2011-04-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

Have you read my book? Did you enjoy the read? Let others know!

Go back to where you bought it, whether The Wild Rose Press's online catalogue or Amazon.com, and leave a review comment. Books with reviews often sell better with the good opinions of others attached.

I appreciate the support!

Guest post on genre distinction at FF&P

2011-03-29T11:24:00.000-07:00

Today I'm guest-posting over at the RWA Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal chapter blog. The topic is how to distinguish between scifi/fantasy with romantic elements or romance with scifi/fantasy elements when submitting your manuscript to publishers. I've given a tool to help authors make this distinction. GO HERE to read the post.

Guest Posting at Long and Short Reviews

2011-03-18T09:49:00.001-07:00

I am the spotlighted author at The Long and Short of it Reviews this week from 3/21-3/25. Come read my blog posts and comment! On the main page you'll find a different trivia question daily taken from that day's post; email your answer to the address given and you'll be entered to win a copy of one of my short stories--either Sweet Cicely or Martial Hearts.

Day 1: Initial vision for the story and where the fantasy goes from here.

Day 2: All about the dragons of EE!

Day 3: Bats disguised as dragons...

Day 4: Where did Murex ordinensis come from?

Day 5: The geography and music behind the cultures in EE.

Release Day

2011-03-18T09:32:00.000-07:00

In April 2003 I began scribbling a story and submitting bits of it to a new workshop/critique group I had just joined. They were romance writers and I had never read a romance book, but the story I wanted to write was a love story, so I thought I might get good feedback.

I got great feedback.

I got validation that I could write and also advice on how to write better.

I got direction in where to seek instruction to strengthen my craft.

I got friends who were also on a writers' journey.

I got the bug to critique others' work.

I got a new career as an editor of fiction manuscripts.

I got two short stories published.

I got my big book finished.

And now I have my first novel published.

Release day almost seems like anticlimax, considering all the blessings I've gained in the past eight years on the road to today. Also since the book is print-length it was available for preorder, and at least one person got her copy and began reading it three days ago--I don't even have my author copy yet!

Perhaps the accomplishment will truly sink in when I can hold a copy in my own hands and re-read it without the ability to fiddle with the wording.

I won't get roses, I won't get dinner out--I doubt my husband even knows what today is. My daughter has no idea.

But I know. Today is the birthing day for my second child, eight years in gestation.

BUY HERE at The Wild Rose Press

BUY HERE at Amazon.com

Available on Amazon.com

2011-03-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

Paperback copies are now available to order on Amazon.com at THIS LINK.

Preorder for paperback copies available

2011-03-02T13:14:00.000-08:00

New this week at The Wild Rose Press is a preorder link for the POD paperback version of my novel The Empire's Edge.

Preoder your copy today HERE.

I have been informed that payment is limited to Visa, MC, and PayPal, so for all you AmEx and Discover-type folks who are anti-PayPal, you'll have to wait until March 18 and order the book off Amazon.com. Also if you crave an e-book copy for your Kindle, Nook, or other reading device, the ebook copies will become available at both TWRP and Amazon on March 18.

Whee!

Why Readers Rarely Make it out of High School

2011-01-19T21:55:00.000-08:00

Larry Correia (NYT Bestselling fantasy author) over at Monster Hunter Nation has a great post about how the "classics" we're all forced to read in middle school and high school pretty much lead to no one being interested in reading anything recreationally again. Ever.

A small sample:

Why is the Scarlet Letter a classic? Reading it gives you a sensation similar to repeatedly giving yourself paper cuts across the cornea. Let me ruin it for you. Spoiler alert. A woman has to wear a big read A. People suffer. All the light will flee your soul. Puritans are jerks. Yet, it is a classic because at some point in time, some dude with a doctorate in English proclaimed it to be a classic.
...
The one good thing about being forced to read The Great Gatsby was that I discovered Robert E. Howard and H.P. Lovecraft afterwards because I figured that not everybody from that time frame could have been that incredibly annoying.

My sophomore English teacher dismissed those works as “pulp” not “literature”. Really? Because who has influenced more people in succeeding generations? Cthulu or Gatsby? My money is on the big squid.

Go HERE to read the full article. Funny stuff.

Enthralled

2010-10-22T12:00:00.001-07:00

by Keena Kincaid

To claim her, he must abandon home, duty, and honor—or reveal the secret of her Sidhe heritage and risk losing her forever to dark magic…

William of Ravenglas wants only one woman—his foster sister, Ami—but she is promised to another, a fate sealed by his father’s recklessness. Resolved to her forfeiture, he forges a dangerous path to bring stability to the house of Ravenglas, balancing the secret demands of the queen against loyalty to the king.

Ami, true sister to Aedan ap Owen the minstrel, refuses her fate. She wants William. But when his kiss awakens her dormant magic, it triggers cascading events that sweep her into the queen’s fiendish web and threaten William’s life.

Now Ami must learn to control her fey powers or watch William die. But with a mystery lover in his past, even if she succeeds will he truly be hers?

This is book three in the Druids of Duncarnoch series. The first was Anam Cara, the second Ties that Bind. Highly recommended stories of innate fae magic running through decendants of the Celtic lands in early Britain. All three stories are set c. 1160-66 during the reign of King Henry II.

This third book centers on Ami, as she learns her true parentage and has to adopt a new way to think of the brothers and sisters she has always known. Suppressed memories and magic begin to take over, endangering her and the man she loves. Smoldering passion is the best description of this spicy medieval tale. Beautifully rendered velvet reading.

EXCERPT

She stilled, suddenly terrified of the thrum and churn in her blood. Her body felt insubstantial yet so heavy her knees threatened to buckle. Slowly, as if giving her time to run, he stepped her backward. Her shoulders grazed the wall, then pressed against it as he pushed closer. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t slow the frantic pounding of her heart, the desperate urge to arch her spine, to press her body against his.

“Do not move.” His whisper brushed over her cheek, his breath sweetly scented by wine. Unable to ignore the command, her nerves sizzled as he closed the distance between them.

His lips brushed hers, once. Twice. Then he plundered her mouth.

Available at The Wild Rose Press

BUY HERE

The Festival of the Flowers: The Courtesan and the Scholar

2010-09-01T19:46:00.001-07:00

by Denise Golinowski

Temptation is her profession, seduction in her blood, but when a courtesan falls in love with an impoverished scholar, can she risk her heart and his life?

For a courtesan with siren’s blood, drawing men to her bed is as natural as breathing, but Lisara Hammett refuses to feel anything beyond the physical. A generations-old curse dooms the women of her bloodline to lose any man they love.

Reyst Andulon does not believe in superstition nor magical creatures—but he does believe he is not good enough for Lady Lisara. Lisara begs to differ, but must risk the pain of her family curse or lose Reyst forever.

This is a sweet fantasy story set in an alternate Renaissance Earth, with Baroque music, masquerade balls, fluffy gowns, gold changing hands, and manners. Any browncoat who loved Inara and Mal from Firefly will enjoy this story.

Go to the Author's blog to read about her experience bringing this delightful tale to publication.

EXCERPT

“Festival greetings, Lady Lisara,” he said. He looked around. “Have you lost your escort?”

Even though she got no impressions from him, somehow she always felt steadier when he was near. Lisara pushed away the distraction and nodded. “Festival greetings, Scholar Andulon and yes, I seem to have done so. Or to be more correct, they have lost me.”

Another crowd of revelers pressed by so close Reyst was pushed forward. He braced his hands against the tree to either side of her head to avoid crushing her. Any other man would have used the opportunity to press himself against her, excusing the familiarity as unavoidable.

The scent of cloves and evergreens swept over her. She flattened her palms against the tree trunk to keep from reaching out to touch that brocade-covered expanse of chest. Strangely, without the prompting of her gift, the desire felt more erotic. She dug her nails into the bark.

“Apologies,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “There are more people at the festival than I remembered.” He turned back to smile down at her.

Bareheaded, he looked less severe, though the harsh lines of his face would never be described as classically handsome. Lisara preferred a man who looked like a man and not a boy, his strength and experience writ large in the lines of his face and the movement of his body. In the dappled sunlight coming through the branches overhead, his mahogany-colored hair glinted with auburn highlights. Without thinking, she reached up to brush back the careless lock of hair that always fell across his eyes, wishing she did not have on her gloves.

At the widening of his eyes and his quick intake of breath, she snatched back her hand, curling her fingers around the memory. “My apologies,” she said. “That was inappropriate.”

Available September 1, 2010 from The Wild Rose Press. BUY HERE

Spirit of the Mountain

2010-08-12T23:57:00.000-07:00

by Paty Jager
Wren, the daughter of a Nimiipuu chief, has been fated to save her people ever since her vision quest. When a warrior from the enemy Blackleg tribe asks for her hand in marriage to bring peace between the tribes, her world is torn apart.

Himiin is the spirit of the mountain, custodian to all creatures including the Nimiipuu. As a white wolf he listens to Wren’s secret fears and loses his heart to the mortal maiden. Respecting her people’s beliefs, he cannot prevent her leaving the mountain with the Blackleg warrior.

When an evil spirit threatens Wren’s life, Himiin must leave the mountain to save her. But to leave the mountain means he’ll turn to smoke…

This is a spiritual tale told long ago, before the days of Lewis and Clark, in the breathtaking Wallowa Mountain Range in my home state of Oregon. Paty writes in places that are familiar to me, which I will admit is some of the allure of her writing. Best known for her award-winning western romance tales, Paty has indulged in a diversion in this book, opting for a path down the paranormal lanes of Faery Rose at The Wild Rose Press.

Himiin is a man we would all love to find--honorable, faithful, strong, and loyal. Even while doubting inside, Wren does as she is asked in agreeing to marry the awful Hawk because her people are counting on her and she believes the spirits have commanded thus. When Himiin raises questions about her faith, she must determine whether to continue believing--and what to believe. At what point do we listen to our hearts and our instincts, turning away from childhood teachings? Deep thoughts tied into this one. Definite thumbs-up.

EXCERPT:
Wren’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “My gift is to save The People. The weyekin who came to me in my vision quest said this.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if staving off a cold breeze.

Himiin hated that they argued when they should relish their time together. He moved to her, drawing her against his chest, embracing her. The shape of her body molded to his. Her curves pressed against him. Holding her this way flamed the need he’d tried to suppress.

He placed a hand under her chin, raising her face to his. The sorrow in her eyes tugged at his conscience. To make her leaving any harder was wrong. But having experienced her in his arms, he was grieved to let her go. Even for the sake of their people.

Her eyelids fluttered closed. Her pulse quickened under his fingers. Shrugging off the consequences, he lowered his lips to hers. They were softer than he imagined. Her breath hitched as he touched her intimately. Parting his lips, he touched her with his tongue, wanting to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

Honey.

Spirit of the Mountain on sale Friday 8/13/2010
BUY HERE

Busy, busy, busy

2010-07-28T22:40:00.001-07:00

This article is a follow-up to the weekly series at The Prosperous Writer. This week's topic is: busy.

****

When I have too much time, I get less than nothing accomplished. I click about the internet, randomly following links and wasting precious computer minutes away from my 8-yr-0ld (bored out of her mind 1/2 way through summer vacation)--minutes I could be spending updating web bio postings or my website or my freelance writing info or researching a quick article or writing at least part of an article or planning parts of a new story, writing on an unfinished manuscript...you get the idea. I flip through the guide on the TV screen, again proving that no matter how many channels you have, nothing worth watching will be playing at that moment. Checking e-mail inboxes three times an hour does not force messages to appear.

And a side-effect is that when I am not busy, I spend too much time doing nothing and am frequently (consistently) late going to any sort of appointment or scheduled event. I lack a clock inside my body. No inborn sense of time passage. Even with a clock in front of me.

The flipside of this is having TOO MUCH to do--manuscripts piling up on my to-be-read pile, rejections that need to be composed and sent, contest entries to judge (I have participated in the Lone Star Writing Contest for 3 or 4 summers), edits of more than one manuscript at a time both for my freelance work and for my publisher, crits to do of my writing partners' work, promotions for my book (we now have a release date--and only 8 months remaining until then!), and--if I get all that done--my own writing. Guess which of those takes a backseat?

I have still found that my productivity goes up, up, up when I have a very full plate. How is this possible?

When I have no time, I am forced to make time. That is, I shedule every moment from waking to falling into bed. I look at what needs to be done, when it needs to be done by, and then break each into small daily chunks. Write those down on the to-do list, and when I've reached my daily goal on one I move to the next, then the next, and so on.

Remarkably, I can move through three or more edits and readings within a six-hour period, by keeping up with a small daily amount for each. "Fifteen pages. I only need to do fifteen pages on this manuscript then I move to the next one, which has ten pages. Then I need to spend 30 minutes (timed) researching for ____, then I need to check this email box for new messages from my client; if none, then I move on to ____."

When I look at it as a number of pages to reach rather than a number of hours spent, I also trick my brain into focusing better, as well as utilizing odd minutes. Odd minutes are when I get interrupted--frequently, repeatedly, throughout the day--yet come right back to where I left off when I get the chance. Maybe that is only fifteen minutes at a stint, but I get through my page count that way.

Right this moment, I have finished my alotted page counts for today and am goofing off. I meant to turn off the computer 1/2 hour ago. I tried to update one website, got bumped from their server, tootled to another, read a blog post, remembered to update my release date here on my blog sidebar, decided to answer Christina Katz's newsletter blog challenge...and here I sit. How did that happen? What was I going to do when I clicked on here? I forgot. I'm not busy at the moment.

Despite the Ghosts

2010-07-22T21:54:00.000-07:00

by Dylan Newton

For spirit medium and parapsychology professor Nola Richards, love is as dead as the ghosts she communicates with. Then one spirit’s cryptic message on her shower door forces her out of the paranormal and into the arms of his hot bachelor brother—business tycoon and complete skeptic Parker Sebastian.

As if dealing with funeral arrangements, an ugly internal audit and his greedy step-family weren’t enough, Parker’s newest problem arrives in a gorgeous, if eccentric, package. After hearing Nola’s “message from beyond,” Parker knows two things: he wants her…and she’s a con artist somehow responsible for his brother’s death.

To help this restless ghost, Nola must overcome Parker’s disbelief. Although sexual energy crackles between them, she knows corporation and meditation don’t mix. It’ll take more than spirit interference and otherworldly signs to make their romance work, Despite the Ghosts.
****
Ms. Newton gives us a catchy, urban vibe within a fast-paced tale of mystery and spicy-hot romance--the kind that leaves an emerald silk dress in a puddle on the floor. Think Ghost Whisperer if Melinda had never been married to Jim (let's not get into the whole "he's now Sam" jumping the shark business). The paranormal community of Lily Dale, NY is explored in a light-hearted way. Secondary characters light up the foreshadows and corners with quirky personalities. Once Nola reaches the Big Apple, though, look out--sexy executive Parker coming your way, and his power (and money) will not be denied. He tries hard to hide the skeletons in his family closet, but with a psychic medium around, that proves impossible. With help from beyond, Nola straightens him out; but not before he kinks her up. Definitely a good read!
****
EXCERPT:
“Your brother’s ghost didn’t come back for your peace of mind. There’s something else...something left unfinished. More than just fingering his killer, I think.”

I had Parker’s full attention now, and my heart picked up in tempo as his gaze intensified. Those gorgeous blue eyes made me all shivery.

“Have any theories?”

“Well, nothing that’s coming to me psychically, if that’s what you mean.” I shrugged my shoulders. “But if I had to guess, I’d say the typical stuff we’d all worry about with our lives cut short. Wills, things left undone, things unsaid...I don’t know. You knew your brother. What would he linger for?”

Parker gave a snort. “Women, golf, women, expensive cars, women, scuba diving. Did I mention women?”

I laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“When he died, his girlfriends came swarming like locusts. That’s what I thought you were, at first.”

“How flattering. Was that before or after you un-cuffed me?” I pushed the jacket sleeves back to point meaningfully at the red welts on my wrists. “Did the rest of the locusts get the same VIP treatment I did?”

He had the good grace to flush.

“No, you were the only one we had to restrain.” His smile faded as he lifted my wrists to examine them in the low light. Then, he lowered his head, placing a lingering kiss on first one wrist, then the other.

My breath caught in my throat, and the smart remark I had lined up fizzled on my lips.

“I’m sorry about that.” His breath warmed my exposed flesh. “I promise never to tie you up again. Unless you ask.”

I didn’t know whether to giggle or moan.

“Is that lack of sleep talking?” My response came out breathless and giddy. “Because I’m getting mixed signals.”

He gave a throaty chuckle. “And you said you were psychic.”

Available July 23 at The Wild Rose Press BUY HERE

A Single Tear

2010-06-03T17:13:00.000-07:00

Pictish warrior Cnyr senses changes coming, but not their implications—until he sees the Scotti witch. Taking her captive is a necessary risk, but after tasting the sweet fire of Ela’s passion, he must turn away from her to fulfill his duty to his clan.

As Britannia plunges into the Dark Ages, Ela dreams of the coming chaos. Struggling to control her mysterious supernatural gifts, surrounded by strangers, she is driven to earn her own place and win the heart of the man who should be hers.

When the invading Saxons threaten anihilation, will Cnyr and Ela learn too late that the power of the witch must combine with the strength of the warrior to protect the future?

Travel back in time to Bonnie Scotland of 400 AD and be blessedly surprised to see nary a kilt in sight! Swords, magic, clan wars and the frightening unknown of what comes after the Romans--here's a hint: they're Germanic descendants of Vikings--weave a solid historical romance through the caves and forests of the highlands of olde. Mae McCulloch has done an outstanding job with her research and storytelling here. My favorite scene: love in a field of strawberries.

EXCERPT:

“You spirited out clothes and water, and yet you ne’er planned the actual escape? That’s almost beyond belief, Ela.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not.” Her tone remained defiant, but fear had risen again.

“You may not care, but I do,” Cnyr stated. “Now, let’s think this through. If you were going to catch a full-grown man off guard and, say, knock him out with this rock right here...”

She flinched as he flicked a hand angrily, shooting the rock to the ground behind her.

“You would have to have him well distracted. I know of only one way for a slip of a girl to manage that. You would have started by inviting him in close, am I right?”

He stepped closer, almost touching his body to hers. He could probably see the alarm in her eyes and he didn’t care.

She had ne’er thought when she had started this little game she would have to play by his rules. She had thought, stupidly, she could control the game enough to keep him from e’er being involved.

“Then you would kiss him once, lightly. An invitation.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her face toward his, touching her lips briefly to his.

She struggled, absolutely shocked at his audacity, but he ignored her attempt to wriggle free.

“Then he, being a hot-blooded, virile young man,” he whispered against her lips, “would accept the invitation.”

Cnyr’s mouth caught hers, hard. He clutched her upper arm, using it to pull her up off the boulder to stand in front of him. Her legs were trapped between the boulder’s solid, cool girth from behind, and his melting warmth from the front. She couldn’t move, she could barely e’en breathe.

Available at The Wild Rose Press June 11, 2010 BUY HERE

Out of the Blue

2010-06-03T15:25:00.000-07:00

A desperate flight from a dangerous man plunges Deirdre Dougherty off a cliff—and into the future…

Swept through a time portal 165 years beyond the life she knew in rural Ireland, Deirdre plunges into a lake in central Texas. The brooding man from her precognizant visions rescues her but demands answers she cannot give. Deirdre knows only that he is in danger, and the source has a familiar vibe.

Police Detective Brendan Hunter wants answers. Who shot him and killed his partner? Why? And why does Deirdre know details only he and his late partner knew? The beautiful psycho’s story has to be a colossal fabrication. He wants her gone before he becomes even more fascinated with her.

Together they must solve the riddle of Deirdre’s displacement, battle a drug scandal and stay one step ahead of the enemy—without knowing friend from foe.

This fast-paced romp through rural Texas will have ye readin' with an Irish lilt sure as me ancestors came from that emerald isle. Get ready for time travel, one good cop, an herbal remedies store with salsa bombs unleashed on kidnapping badguys, and exploding cars. A fun thriller.

EXCERPT:
“Fasten your seat belt.” Brendan strapped himself in place.

Deirdre pulled at the shoulder strap as he had done, but it didn’t budge. She paused in her efforts as panic struck her. “Please, I don’t want to be tied to the seat.”

He ignored her. “Here, I’ll do it.” He reached across her and pulled the binding forward.

His face was only inches from hers. Their lips almost touched. He smelled like fresh air after the rain and morning sunshine and pinecones from the forest. She stopped caring about being strapped in. Instead, she breathed in deeply while scandalous thoughts raced through her.

His breath fell soft on her mouth and he stared into her eyes. He didn’t move. Their lips almost touched.

In twenty-five years of life she’d never been kissed on the mouth. Only family had kissed her cheek. Wasn’t it time she experienced a man’s lips on hers?

He blinked and ducked his head to fasten the strap at her hip. “Er, um, you put this metal part in the fastener here. Don’t they have seat belts where you’re from?”

She exhaled. “No.” Saints forgive her, a regular Jezebel she’d become, boldly wanting him to kiss her. But she’d sensed a connection when he’d gazed at her. How could that be?

Perhaps Brendan had experienced the same sensations. His hand shook when he poked beside the wheel with a shining metal key. A new sound started, like the boat but not as loud. Recalling her vow not to scream again, she clamped her mouth shut and gripped the edges of the seat.

They were flying. No other coach or cart ever moved so fast. As they proceeded along the road, she saw other coaches without horses and decided this must be the way people traveled in the hereafter.

Amazing. Magic.The speed of everything whizzing by made her dizzy, so she closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. At least the strap kept her from jostling and jarring when the coach hit potholes. How funny that bad roads also existed in the afterlife.

Available June 4, 2010 BUY HERE

Birthday photo-doctoring fun

2010-05-26T14:26:00.001-07:00

Kismet's Angel

2010-05-07T11:38:00.000-07:00

Raised by a ragtag group of tender-hearted sailors in 19th century Hyderabad, Antoinetta Manu has grown into a woman determined to sail her own course in life. But when her past and future collide with terrifying results, only one man can set her free.

American merchant Darian St. Clair has come to India to find out the truth about the death of his stepfather's only child. What he finds is a woman he cannot live without.

Spanning two continents and two realms, Kismet's Angel is the story of two extraordinary mortals, one determined goddess, and a destiny that only true love can fulfill…

Katherine Brandon has created a fabulous historical romance with an unusual setting which sweeps the reader away to Hyderabad, on the Indian penninsula, in 1810 and then across the Atlantic to New Orleans in time for the war of 1812. Captain in her own right, Antoinetta trips through life in charge and carefree--until her 18th birthday. Expect pirates, shipboard action, and a naval battle on top of swirling skirts, a pet tiger, and a little interference from the goddess Kismet.

Readers can expect a sequel in August 2010, with a third book to follow in October.

EXCERPT:
With a sigh of disapproval, she signaled Darian to her side, near an oaken barrel filled with clear water. “Has anyone explained this to you?” Her sweeping hand encompassed the fallen men, the paper lanterns, and finally, her red-powdered self.

“Daya said this was the Hindi festival of fire,” he replied. “And Ahmed told me a charming story about a demoness burned alive. Something I must remember to tell my children one day.”

Lashes shuttered her eyes as she dipped a wooden basin into the barrel. “You have children?”

“No. No wife, no children.” Nor did he want to discuss his home life. Not when her background held more sway over the coming days. “I’d like to know more about you. Is Ahmed your only family?”

A pile of muslin rags sat near the barrel and she dipped one into her basin, and then wrung out the excess water. “Everyone you see here is family. Daya and Uthman, Ali, Nadir, Hassan.” She handed him the rag and repeated the procedure with another muslin scrap. “I have more guardians than a royal princess.”

Did she know? He bent to study her expression, but she buried her face in the muslin and began dabbing away the colored streaks.

When she finally dropped the cloth, she frowned. “You’re not cleaning your shirt. Here.”

She took the cloth from him and stepped closer. Grabbing a fistful of linen in one hand, she dabbed gently at his chest with the rag. Damp fabric separated her fingertips from his bare skin. His heart skipped and the blood sizzled in his veins. Cinnamon and vanilla surrounded him. Sweet Christ, did she have any idea the effect her nearness had?

Available now from The Wild Rose Press. ORDER HERE in print or e-book

Good Health

2010-03-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

I’m continuing a topic begun on The Prosperous Writer’s ezine.

This past week saw both my husband and daughter laid low by a virus, which manifested as fever, aches and chills, a cough, and tissue-box-emptying nose issues.

I didn’t catch it.

Every few hours I’d pop a thermometer into someone’s mouth and pronounce numbers like a member of the stock exchange. “It’s up.” “It’s down.” “It’s up.” Refills of water and orange juice were made available, cold compresses refreshed on foreheads, DVDs exchanged for others, cough drops fetched. Lots of chicken noodle soup made and eaten.

I had to reschedule three appointments, one for each of them and one for the truck, which if it starts is going in tomorrow. Every morning had to call the school and say “she won’t be in.”

What did I do special to not catch their bug? I’m not entirely sure, but I know many things I consume or avoid which they do not. This list always makes me feel like a bad mother.

1. Airborne. As soon as I measured kidlet’s temperature Tuesday morning, I took some. Family won’t touch this. It is pretty gag-worthy and must be downed quickly. And you’ll need a chaser.

2. Zicam. The tablets you suck on—I took one every evening at bedtime. They taste good—reminding me of children’s aspirin from childhood (back before we knew about Reye’s Syndrome…I just dated myself). I have read all the reports on the controversy about Zicam destroying your smell/taste senses. The stuff works—I’ll risk it 3 days of the year. Hubby noticed the taste diminishing properties and decided not to use it anymore.

3. Herbal Tea. Chamomile, Rooibus, mint, raspberry—I have many varieties. I can’t tolerate caffeine and I prefer the mild subtle flavors to be found in herbal teas. I have at least one cup per day. The family won’t touch this.

4. Veggies and fruit. This week we had on hand broccoli, bananas, strawberries, apples, carrots, spinach leaves, and applesauce (homemade—the last jar. Bummer). The kid ate as many of these as I could throw at her. Hubby—not so much. He was all over the bananas, so that’s something.

5. Chicken soup. Pushed the chicken soup big time. Shockingly, Hubby welcomed this for lunch multiple days in a row. I tired of it and had leftovers from the fridge on day 2.

6. SLEEP. As much as possible while nursing a coughing little one who wakes the dog every time she coughs. Okay, I didn’t get much sleep at all for two nights and still had to work, my job being at home and all. I did my 3-hours of concentrated work in 1 1/2 hour stints. Sleep my family did plenty of. Multiple naps were taken by each of them, allowing me peaceful time in the afternoons to work undisturbed. I didn’t get any naps—are you kidding? I’m the mommy. The animals still had to be fed and walked, phone calls made by a certain time, e-mail checked on regular schedule, lunches and dinners prepared. And when else am I supposed to work? But I did go to bed early each night, since Kidlet was sleeping in my bed. Hubby slept downstairs on the air mattress.

7. Soda. I don’t touch this stuff for the most part. My husband would dry up and blow away if he did not consume 48 ounces a day minimum of Coke or Pepsi. As I mentioned above, I can’t handle caffeine, so I avoid colas. I’m not big on sugary pop either. I will drink ginger ale if mixed with juice…or rum (but that’s another story). Kidlet drinks far too much of the stuff, thanks to her father’s influence, but I keep her to 8 oz or less per day, never after 7pm, and as little caffeine as I can. Root beer is her favorite. While ill this week I don’t think she had any.

So other than starting with good general health, and eating right, drinking tea, water, OJ, getting as much sleep as I could, not sharing utensils or food or playing kissy-face, washing hands after clearing away used tissues from table tops (Really? The trash sack is right next to you), I didn’t do anything special.

As soon as they were independent of fever I took a long hot bath and read a book.

So what do you do when your whole family is sick to avoid catching it yourself?

I Must Be Growing Up

2010-03-01T22:48:00.000-08:00

"I can't write a detailed love scene. I picture Aunt Connie staring over my shoulder! Ugh, what would she say?"

Aunt Connie is my father's elder sister, a nice Christian lady with strong family values, a hard worker, a caring person, a wonderful mom, grandma, and aunt. I love her love her. I looked forward every year to our annual summer trip across 8 hours of desert in a 2-door sedan without air-conditioning for a stay at the farm where she lives with Uncle Don. (Uncle Donald had a farm...E-I-E-I-O). For me, growing up in the suburbs, their farm was a magical place. Great fields of corn and onions, barns with mysterious corners, occasional litters of kittens, a henhouse, the swift and scary forbidden zone of the irrigation ditch, the wide sweep of lawn and a tire swing where we cousins would play for hours until long past dark. Sigh.

Anyway, the thought of writing a sex scene that my aunt might read made me cringe. I usually skim through them as a reader "Yeah, yeah, a hand here, a tongue there, tab A in slot B--get to the plot!" I was more of a "fade to black" love-scene writer.

Until my editor contracted The Empire's Edge on the condition that I spice up the love scenes. She wanted at least one to go to consummation. Of course I said yes.

Then I sat on the rewrites for weeks, not doing it.

Finally, I dug in and expanded here and there. Fleshed it out. I did pass it by my crit group with a query "It doesn't sound cheesy, does it?" But I was fairly confident I'd gotten it right. A few more tweaks from writing partners' suggestions and it was off to my editor with not one but two consummated love scenes.

This evening, I had a chance to speak with Aunt Connie. She asked about my book. "Is it something I can read?" she asked. I confessed to the love scenes and my fears about writing sex--that her sensibilities are my bugaboo. She laughed. I said, "One saving grace--the hero and heroine are married when they do it." Her comforting chuckle rippled past my ear. "Well, all right, then."

She said she'll probably skim past the two scenes :-) That's fine with me. I love you, Aunt Connie!

Cover Art for The Empire's Edge

2010-02-14T13:22:00.000-08:00

Cover artist: Tamara Westbury aka Tara West. The book is still in edits, but the moment I learn of the release date and the ISBN for ordering, I will certainly let everyone know.

Watch Canaveral on March 18

2010-02-11T12:39:00.000-08:00

How many people can say they know an astronaut personally?
The Space Shuttle Discovery - mission STS-131 will be piloted by a man my brother was good friends with in high school. Granted, I have never had a 1-on-1 conversation with Lt. Col. James P. Dutton Jr., even while he was shooting hoops at my house, and he and my brother have lost touch over the past 20 years, but I can say I knew him when. And I can be excited that he is realizing his dream of going to space as an astronaut. He has worked hard since 1982 to make his chips fall in a row--and they have. Good for you, Jim! His dedication to a goal is phenomenal and inspirational.

From an article in The (Eugene) Register Guard, May, 2004, on the day he was officially accepted into the space program at NASA:

Once upon a time in 1982, little Jimmy Dutton asked Cal Young Middle School librarian Linda Ague for some help on his Career Day project: How do you become an astronaut?

Ague responded by helping the seventh-grader draft a letter to NASA. The space agency mailed back a pamphlet on the best ways to realize his goal - and Jimmy Dutton never looked back.

If every student was like little Jimmy Dutton, "people would be fighting to become teachers," Ague said. "He could have been an arrogant kid, but he wasn't. He was just perfect in every way."

As if to prove her point, Dutton called Ague at Cal Young last week to tell her his exciting news - and then swore her to secrecy, since the official announcement was top secret until today. That proved a tad challenging after co-workers wanted an explanation for Ague's shrieks of joy.

"I went crazy," she said. "I mean, no one calls a teacher to tell them things like that, and to tell them they made a difference. To get a call like that is such a thrill.

"If he ever gets on a mission, I'll fly to wherever he takes off to see him go out into space," she said. "I can't wait. It's too cool."

For the full article go HERE.

To read Jimmy's astronaut bio from NASA go HERE or you can find him on Wikipedia HERE

I was unable to embed our local news' video feature story which ran February 10, about the upcoming launch, but go to our local news agency KEZI.com for all the updates and to follow the mission.

Guest at FF&P

2010-01-20T08:48:00.000-08:00

Today I'm guest-blogging over at RWA's Fantasy Futuristic and Paranormal blog. Check out my ideas about how authors can develop "mental" editing.

Singin' Wit' Some Bad Grammar

2010-01-16T12:22:00.000-08:00

Writing from a Martial Arts Perspective

2010-01-11T12:56:00.000-08:00

While doing research for an editing assignment (having to do with heartbeats per minute under the stress of fear-induced adrenaline) I stumbled across this 2006 interview with Loren W. Christensen for Black Belt Magazine. Mr. Christensen is a retired police officer and a martial artist. He has written many books about the martial arts and here compares the discipline needed by a writer and that needed by a martial artist:

Writing is a continuous process of improving weaknesses, hiding those you can’t fix, emphasizing your strengths, trying new techniques and methods, searching for the most effective ways to have impact and, through it all, striving for the discipline to do these things.
The Japanese word sanchin means “three conflicts:’ the body, mind and spirit. Every time you train or write, you face a body that wants to snooze on the sofa, a mind that wants to vegetate in front of the television, and a spirit that wants to take the easy way. Facing these three conflicts is tough, some days really tough. Learning to fight them, learning to control them, and learning to conquer them is part of what being a writer and a martial artist is all about.

Read the whole article here. Fascinating.

Ties That Bind

2009-12-18T13:23:00.000-08:00

Keena Kincaid's latest novel Ties That Bind, the sequel to Anam Cara, is available for sale today at The Wild Rose Press in both e-book and print.

A druid who denies himself nothing desires the only woman who believes magic and love don't mix.

AEDAN ap OWEN misuses his Sidhe gifts for his own personal pleasures and the king's dark business at the plantagenet court. Sent north to investigate rumors of treason and dispatch the troublemakers, Aedan discovers someone is murdering monks and stealing saints' relics. And all clues point to his kinsman the Earl of Carlisle.

LADY TESS of BRIDSWELL refuses to rekindle her relationship with Aedan. She knows his reputation as a secret stealer--and she has a secret that must be kept. But her resolve falters when her uncle promises her hand to a man she despises and Aedan appears her sole salvation.

But a would-be king uses the stolen relics to amplify his power, wielding it like a weapon. Meeting the traitor's magic with magic could prevent war, but it also would destroy Aedan's chance to show Tess he has at least mastered the temptation of the ancient wisdom. Can he renounce his magic to win Tess' heart anew or will Aedan choose magic over love?

EXCERPT:
“Tess.”

It was a single word, four letters, yet Aedan somehow imbued her name with the importance of a royal decree. He knows words, she reminded herself, quickening her steps. Life in the king’s court had no doubt honed to perfection his raw talent for finding the phrase to start a quarrel or arouse passion. By now, he could likely start a war—or stop one—with a single syllable. Chilled by the thought, she turned into a niche in the wall and discovered escape ended at an oak door as wide as she was tall. She fumbled for a latch. Finding only smooth boards beneath her hand, she pressed her palm against the door and prayed it would miraculously open. The steps behind her stopped. She closed her eyes. He had bathed. He smelled of Saracen soap, spicy and exotic, mixed with the brisk, earthy scent of old trees that had clung to her for days after he’d left.

“Tess.”

A tremor ran down her spine. Saints, she still loved the way he said her name. Rather than giving it a shortened, clipped feel like everyone else, he elongated it, adding depth and weight as if it were her true name.

“Tess, look at me.”

Unable to move forward or backward, she pressed her forehead against the door. Go away. Just go away, she prayed, and then hands, warm and steady, settled on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” he said.

*shivers* I love this author's work. I'm squeeing privately because in my other self I'm editing the third book in this series right now :) Ha Ha I get to read it first! Buy Ties That Bind. Read it. Devour it. Spicy, sexy, set in the days of King Henry II and his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine, this book plunges the reader into medieval court intrigue and spices it with Faery magic. Magic in Keena Kincaid's world is a force that is, woven through Aedan's family's veins and manifesting in different ways: healing, foresight, empathy, aura-reading and more. A must-have for any medieval romance fan.

Baby Steps

2009-12-04T08:05:00.000-08:00

Breaking a job into little bits makes it go by not only quicker but also gets it done.

I knew this for nonfiction article writing already, but I applied this radical idea recently to my fiction. I have four (official on the outline) scenes left to write for Canyon Hearts. I wasn't getting anything done amidst edits on other projects. Looking more closely at the outline, I saw five sentences in the first scene's description...so I separated them with spaces, divided by 1500 words and discovered, lo and behold, that each sentence of "What should happen" would only require 300 words to get there. 300 words--that's nothing!

I immediately typed out the first sentence's material. Checked the wordcount--500 words. Next evening, did the second setence and landed 448 words. I may be onto something...this is with limited time to work on new prose, too. Imagine if I had a full day to write.

You can do this too.

Map of Trearu Conflict

2009-11-24T10:53:00.001-08:00

Here's a silly freebie: the map to the conflict referred to offstage in The Empire's Edge.

The battle over land in Trearu, to the south of the kingdom of Rilliand, has stretched back for 30 years at the beginning of EE. Captain Jeren Vassal, our hero, has spent the majority of his 10-year military career fighting over turf in Trearu for his kingdom. The black arrow to the right indicates where two years prior to EE, he made his big mark on history; he led 200 men in holding back an ambush by 2,000 Trearan warriors descending unexpectedly from the mountain passes down a ravine. Victorious (but losing his commander and many other good men), Jeren was awarded a medal by the queen of Rilliand. This is known as the Battle of Chevron.

Sometimes, getting noticed and gaining a reputation for excellence (when reality was coincidence of right place/right time) can work against a man...

Cruel Insight

2009-11-19T15:44:00.000-08:00

I recently caught up with a former coworker, from my pre-mommyhood days. Turns out, she became a professional writer not long after we parted company and has been writing ever since. I stumbled across her blog and found this old post that struck me as...a little close to home.

torn-between-two-lovers

She laments that while she was concentrating on her work-at-home-work, her two pre-school-age daughters decided to give each other haircuts. I have escaped the home-beauty-treatment scissors routine (so far) here, but Kidlet gets into other things while my attention is on the computer.

Do others of you with small children feel this same split of attention and guilt that you're ignoring your most important function of mother in the meantime? I have an ear out for downstairs activity right now, actually...I'd better go check on her.

The Process Begins

2009-11-14T08:54:00.000-08:00

I have my first contract for novel-length fiction in my hands. My six-years-in-the-making “The Empire’s Edge” has been picked up by The Wild Rose Press. Not for lack of trying at other publishers, mind you, but I searched my heart and found that with my career as an editor taking off, I don’t have the dedication to my writing that an agent wants to profit from. I stop short of using the word “hobby,” but I do write for my own satisfaction rather than for the money. For the professional author thrill, I can live vicariously off my friend Carrie and her new collaborator Ann on their AWESOME trilogy, for which I got to read the synopsis before they made the proposal. They rock.

So with brash confidence that my ms would find success at the one e-pub house with which I am rather familiar (Sweet Cicely and Martial Hearts), I sent my baby, my learning piece, my BIG BOOK (80K) to them. Perhaps it would have gained more publicity, perhaps shelf space rather than mere cyberspace, at another house. Sales numbers are nice, but my ultimate goal is to see my imagination set down in physical form. My name on a library shelf next to Anne McCaffrey. Anything after that is extra happiness.

Don’t get me wrong—I want lots of people to buy it and read it. Yes, yes, my enormous family and my friends and former classmates and their friends and family and so on. Perfect strangers—I’ll take perfect strangers as readers, sure. I have big vague plans to trot myself around to blogs and be a more familiar face. Join FF&P. Blog here more regularly. We’ll see how well I can manage that now that I have something to talk about. I’ll be visiting my local bookstores and asking about what local authors partner with them for as far as publicity, how to sell print copies of the book on consignment, or convince them to order through TWRP’s print store option, etc. We are lucky here in Oregon to have some nice independent bookstores. Powells being the gigantor of them. You may have heard of it.

Look for a teaser to appear on my website. I’ll be posting tidbits that got cut from the final novel, such as the infamous prologue my fabulous crit group finally convinced me to hack off the beginning.

Will there be a second book in this world? Why does that question remind me of the demands people make of young brides about babies? “When are you going to have a baby?” “When are you going to have another one?” I’ll try, after Patti and I finish Canyon Hearts, the fourth book in her Echo Falls series. I have a few more in that series to co-author as well. I’m not disappearing. Just super busy with other facets of my life.

And supremely happy. If all else fails, I am now the author of a novel.

Straight No Chaser

2009-10-26T09:48:00.000-07:00

My dad took me to a fabulous concert last night at the Hult Center in Eugene. Straight No Chaser is an a capella group from Indiana.

They're all over YouTube:

Fun concert. These guys are humorous, generous with encores, and will be in Portland and Medford later this week...after driving to British Colombia last night from Eugene (as one of the guys said, "Who booked this tour?!").

Always fun to leave kidlet at home, dress up and go to the Hult for some performing arts. Happy sigh.

Old Legs

2009-10-15T23:07:00.000-07:00

Last Wednesday morning, I awoke at 6am to the normal choo-choo panting of our Golden Retriever, Shadow, as he warmed up to the idea that if I woke soon I could take him outside for a pee. He began pacing so I gave up trying to sleep. In the dim light of a foggy almost-dawn, I stumbled down the stairs with no glasses on and held the door for him.

Shadow has begun balking at the stairs, especially first thing in the morning. He's 12 years old and has had trouble rising to stand and navigating the stairs. Picture a long body of a solid 100 pounds topping four toothpicks for legs and you might understand his hesitation. Our staircase goes down 11 stairs to a landing then two more at a right angle, aimed at the front door.

This time, he stumbled at the top of the stairs and slid like a heavy penguin all the way down the stairs. Loudly. He didn't say anything but at the landing he leapt up on adrenaline, panicked, and somehow made it down the last two stairs and out to the grass and back inside before collapsing. At this point the husband had joined us and demanded to know why I hadn't turned on the light. I pointed out that his legs wouldn't work any better in bright light.

He stumbled his way into the family room and we helped him up onto the air mattress we have out in front of the fire for the winter (it's not like the Queen of England is ever going to visit and wonder why we have an air mattress in the middle of our family room floor. It's comfy). I had to wait until 9 am to call the vet. They said bring him in...at 2 pm. I gave him a Rimadyl and we kept him comfortable.

I cannot lift this dog. He refused to stand, let alone walk. Hubby (suffering from bronchitis at the time, and already home from work for illness) carried him to the truck for me. The vet techs lifted him out of the truck with a stretcher, but despite the straps he tried to bail out and they nearly dropped him. He pooped on the stretcher so they fetched a blanket and between the three of us we carried him into the office.

The vet checked him all over for breaks and injury and found none. She said his left side paw might have radial nerve damage from the symptoms he exhibited but to give him a few days to heal and become less sore overall. She kept hinting that we could choose to have him put down. I know she has to offer that but I'm shocked some people would do that rather than spend a few days nursing a beloved pet. She said turn him over every so often and massage his legs, flex them in a normal range of motion. I was concerned that he hadn't peed since 6am, so she tried to show me how to express his bladder...but couldn't find it.

Thankfully the vet visit was inexpensive--just office visit fee plus $11 for 6 days-worth of pain medication, a light narcotic he could take with Rimadyl. The vet techs and I loaded him back in the truck and we came home.

Hubby and I set up a twin-sized air mattress alongside the usual one for him to sleep on and I tended him as instructed. I cut his food to 1/2 normal rations due to inactivity but he had a good appeteit and was drinking water. 50 hours went by since his fall, and I had been unable to find his bladder either. Hubby carried him outside to the grass and we steadied him on his feet. As soon as his paws touched the cold wet grass he dumped his loads. Big heavy sigh as he settled back on the air mattress after that!

All through the recovery, Shadow was in good spirits. He perked up when Hubby came home from work on Friday and when Granny came to visit he practically wiggled off the mattress. By Sunday he could walk a little, putting the front paw down normally (vet was wrong in the initial diagnosis, thank goodness). He has improved daily in sitting up, rolling over and walking.

Today he was able to lever himself off the air mattress and walk to the front yard unassisted, a distance of ~100 feet. His long toes in the back catch on the carpet and his toes turn under so he does a little peg-leg hop-step some of the way. Shadow and I developed a system for getting down the wooden stairs of the back deck to the backyard...in the pouring rain...at 3am...I lace my fingers under his belly just in front of his legs and lift so his hind feet are just touching the ground. I swing his back end down the first stair, he moves his front legs down to match, I move down the second stair, he does the same, then onto the grass. On the way back up I just lift the hind end and he "wheelbarrows" up the stairs.

I've been sleeping downstairs with him this whole past week, with the exception of one or two nights I switched with Hubby. On Monday we had to pull out the old baby gates and block off the family room at night and the base of the stairs during the day to keep him from trying to do too much. He seems to forget his gimpy legs and tries to move full-steam, then stumbles and sits down or falls down and gets frustrated. He really wants to go upstairs to bed like normal.

Today is eight days since his accident, and he's almost back to normal. Tonight he got off his mattress and came to the kitchen when he heard me preparing his dinner--and he ate it at his normal place instead of in bed. Good to know I hadn't spoiled him :-)

I researched some handicapped dog information websites and found a few exercises to try with his weak leg. Part of his problem is a gigantic lipoma under the muscle tissue of that thigh. He's struggled with that leg for quite a while before his accident and favored it a little too much.

Now I'm trying to convince him that going outside in the pouring rain at 3am is not something I want to do every night, thanks. For the past two nights he's gotten up and paced from 3-4 am. No sleep for me! Kinda like having another infant in the house. Kidlet has been forgiving of my divided attention and most of my grumpiness due to fatigue. She is reaching independance just as he is sliding toward dependance.

Those stairs aren't going to get easier.

Hey--my blog has been featured at this site: Dog Health Problems Who knew? I have been updating Shadow's status on Facebook and hadn't written here about it, so thought I ought to, with recognition from these folks. Thanks!

Goodie Box

2009-10-06T22:06:00.000-07:00

I haven't been here in so long the address was no longer in the drop-down on the toolbar. I had to type it in...

I've had a lovely decorative box on my desk for months. A grey resin-stone castle-top with dragon gargoyles on the sides and a dragon on the top of the lid. My daughter asked me yesterday, "What did you put in your box, Mommy?" and I had to say, "Nothing yet."

My idea was to place good things said about me into the box. Warm fuzzies, as we used to call them in gradeschool.

Tonight I actually did that, beginning with a quote from my writing buddy Carrie Lofty. "Kelly is enthusiastic, sensitive, self-depricating, funny, and generous with her praise and encouragement." How can that sort of statement NOT make you feel good?

I shall collect and print others to add to that. So when I'm feeling low as an author or otherwise, I can peep into the box and feel encouraged.

Guesting

2009-09-04T09:27:00.000-07:00

I'm a guest over at Skhye's Ramblings today. She wanted to know about my research for my WIP, so I blurped about Canyon Hearts, the contemporary romance novel I'm co-authoring with Patti Ann Colt in her Echo Falls series. Canyon Hearts will be book #4.

Go read!

One Hot Cook

2009-08-26T08:01:00.000-07:00

Get ready for a good time with some bad boys.

Privileged debutante Alex Kincaid is sent to her uncle’s ranch after receiving her third DUI in eighteen months. She doesn’t know the first thing about cooking, but when it comes to the Bar K’s sexy-as-sin cook, Brett, she’s willing to learn.

Having served his six years as an inmate at the prison ranch, Brett Hartman can almost taste his freedom. When the warden’s niece arrives, his world is turned upside down. Alex argues with him at every turn and makes his already chaotic life a living hell. Fraternization will send him back to jail, away from the Bar K. So why is he willing to throw away everything he’s worked for to have one night with her in his bed?

Excerpt:

Brett grabbed Alex’s wrist before pointing to the burn mark on her hand. “This is incentive. This proves you weren’t afraid to try something on your own.”

She twisted in his grasp and pulled free before repaying the iron grip on his arm and turning it over. “Is that what your scars mean to you?”

He flinched at the feel of her nails digging into his flesh.

“No, I didn’t think they did,” she continued. “You view your scars as a permanent reminder of what you were and the regrets you have for taking the wrong road.”

“What do you see?”

“I see a man who is terrified of repeating the mistakes he’s already made up for.” She loosened her hold on him. “I see a man who hates the person he used to be so much that he’s willing to fight to his last breath to make sure no one else ever feels the way he did. Even if it means butting heads with the most stubborn, pig-headed woman he’s ever met.”

Brett’s resolve disintegrated. She was right. God help him, she knew exactly what he was feeling. He didn’t know what was worse. The fact she’d been able to read him so easily or the fact he was glad. In either case, the jumbled feelings swirling through his head left him thoroughly unnerved.

He snaked his arm around her waist and yanked her to him. “You forgot the most beautiful.”

You’re crazy. Still, every fiber in his being ached to taste her full pouty lips while slipping his fingers in her hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. He knew what he should do, but the harder he tried to release her, the tighter his hold became.Yup, he was certifiably bonkers. And if he was lucky, the little men in white coats would take him away before he did something stupid—like act on his impulses.

“Oh for God’s sake. If you won’t do it, I will.” Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

ALEX by Monica Robinson goes on sale Friday, the 28th at The Wild Rose Press. Print versions are available now as an early bird special. BUY HERE

The Color Purple

2009-07-30T21:45:00.001-07:00

Ta-da!

Ghost of a Chance

2009-07-10T10:43:00.000-07:00

Widower Trace Hawthorne has run his life on the left-brained model of an engineer—except for his impulsive move to Egypt with his toddler twelve years ago. When he returns to Minnesota and buys a century-old house, any odd incidents—misplaced items, flickering lights, a boy, Edward, whom no one will claim—he dismisses with logic.

Single mother and herbalist Wynter Storm is poised to expand her business, moonlighting as an interior decorator for extra funds. In denial about her psychic intuition, she senses things about Trace’s new house and about him.

Logic and intuition collide, sparks fly and love ignites. Can they heal past hurts of grief, guilt and abandonment while fending off their matchmaking daughters, curtailing their mothers—one a psychic and the other a busybody—and help the ghost of a small boy find his way home?

I'm very happy to present a new novel from The Wild Rose Press Faery Line, Ghost of a Chance, by Judi Phillips. She and I have been waiting a very long time for this release, contracted way back in November 2007! Snow, hockey, lavender, interior design, two 12-yr-old matchmakers and the ghost of a small boy bring two very different people together in a match no one could have predicted. A conservative engineer recently moved back to Minnesota from Egypt, mixed up with a free-spirited hippie-chick from San Fran (a good place to be FROM, in her mind)--what a combo! I truly enjoyed the three-dimensional characters in this book, and you will too.

EXCERPT:

Wynter had taken advantage of Jenny’s unexpected hockey practice and her mother’s solo excursion into Lost Falls to work uninterrupted in her herb room at home. When the phone rang, she nearly let voice mail get the call but at the last moment picked up the receiver.

“Wynter.”

“Hello, Trace.” From the ragged edges in his voice, she knew something unusual had occurred.

“Wynter. I need you over here.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“The girls?”

“No, they’re fine. Doug will bring them here after they finish practice.”

“Can you give me an hour or so? A little afternoon delight would be fun, but I’d like to finish up the order I’m working on.”

He was silent for a long moment. Then she heard him take a deep breath.

“Something weird has happened.” He paused. “Could you please come over here? As soon as possible.”

Edward.

“I’ll be right over.”

BUY HERE

Murphy's Surprise

2009-07-02T21:37:00.001-07:00

I've been working on a new flowerbed in the front yard since April of this year. Up to this point--for the past six years--this part of the yard has been grass I don't like to mow. Not only did I remove turf grass, clods of clay dirt, rearrange brick edging but I added a dry streambed with 1/2 cubic yard of river rock I shoveled by hand, new dirt and plants (a lovely-smelling tea rose, a deciduous azalea that matches the paint color of the house, several snapdragons, and veggies). I have before pictures, during pictures. I hadn't yet snapped any "after" pictures because I was waiting for the snapdragons to bloom...This is the sight that greeted me at 11am last Friday:

The branch that fell was over 100 years old, according to the ring count. At its base, it was as big around as my waist. So imagine several hundred pounds of solid white oak, crashing where gravity tells it to. Some plants were crushed. One shrub lost half its height but is otherwise fine and my lavendars are kinda ugly at the moment, but they should recover. My new rosebush miraculously survived this fallen branch and another rotten limb above it that was felled on purpose later that afternoon by the contractor we had help us. The azalea of perfect color--that I could only pick in May when it was in bloom--survived the first branch but not the second. Hubby saved some cuttings for me and hopes they will root. The root of the azalea is still in the ground and has one pathetic leaf bunch on it; the plant may survive. We'll see. I'm glad only plants got squashed and not children or dogs, since this happened between 8 and 11 in the morning.

The lettuce and most of the carrots died in the process of cleanup from being stepped on and the contractor unwittingly dismantled my oak-twig gnome house at the base of the fir tree.

My new garden will be pretty again, but for now it's covered in oak-chip sawdust. Some good news is there will be far fewer leaves to rake in the fall from now on, and the whole yard gets more sun and can utilize more water.

Why couldn't this branch (obviously rotten inside) have fallen any time prior to April?

Summer Bliss

2009-06-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

I've been hunkered at the keyboard lately, writing to pay for vet bills. Today I took a three-hour procrastination break to climb the ladder and pick these:

To make this:

Yummy.

Princess

2009-05-15T16:16:00.000-07:00

Someone has proven herself responsible enough to satisfy us she's ready to own a guinea pig, so we promised that would be this year's birthday gift.

I planned on getting the cage, food, hay, treats, etc. for the birthday one week hence and pick up the critter after we return from Nate's wedding, after Memorial Day.

Curse you, Craigslist.

Last night we were only going to go view the advertised babies and pay for one to reserve it.

Instead we bought, brought home and installed the cutest little fluffball to cross my threshold since Homer was a baby. Kidlet toyed with a variety of names, including "Chocolate Chip" and "Cookie" before settling on "Princess."

For size comparison, I chased her out of her hidey-hole in her garage (which used to be Homer's) and placed both a baseball and whiffle ball in the cage. Both are standard-size. She's soooo little! Five weeks-ish old; she'll get much bigger, of course.

Why didn't you use Homer's old cage, you ask? We pulled it down from the attic but the galvanized steel base had not weathered the years in the attic well and was all corroded. Ew. I wanted a plastic-based cage anyway for ease of cleaning. Much easier to sterilize.

Isn't she cute?

I tell you, waking up to "whoot whoot whoot wheee wheeee wheeeeeee" was wonderful! And her kibble smells so good, like sunlight in a barn, and her hay...ah. As Hubby says, "Smells like home!"

Shadow is VERRRY curious and at this point wants to see what that little squirrel-like thing is and maybe how it tastes...we've warned Kidlet that Princess needs to stay in her cage for the first few days until she is comfortable with us. Homer hid for two days straight, if I recall, before he warmed up to us, and he didn't have a dog staring at him.

Did you crave Vin Diesel in the Riddick movies? You’ll love this spicy version...

2009-05-08T23:45:00.001-07:00

In the Andromeda Galaxy, XANDRA MONOCERROS, Princess of Lacerta, dreads the coming of the Fourth Moon. Every five years it appears, drawing death to someone dear. First her mother then her husband. Will this cycle take another loved one? Even worse, Lacerta is heading for the same implosion disaster as their ancestral planet Earth.

Seeking a solution, Xandra crosses paths with DARIUS VAN LAARS—the dangerous outlaw from her visions. Will their intense attraction dissuade Darius from carrying out personal revenge on the man key to saving Xandra’s planet? Can she save Lacerta or will she fall victim to the Legend of the Fourth Moon?

Excerpt:

Xandra sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad?”

Silence.

“Come on. All I wanted was a ride to the planet where you were already heading. Jeez. Whoever it was that claimed women are moody obviously never met you.”

A string of curses assaulted her ears before Darius’ fist pounded a switch. Cold shackles clamped her wrists and ankles and held her immobile to the seat.

“What are you doing?” Heart slamming into her throat, she yanked the restraints and stifled a yelp as hard steel bit into her skin.

Grim-faced, her captor flicked the auto-pilot button, unstrapped himself then stood. Fear—sudden and sharp—stiffened her spine and hiccupped her pulse. Now what? Sense of survival kicking in, she inched her fingers toward the knives sheathed under her sleeves. Drat. The shackles prevented access. Should I use my magic? She chewed her lip and eyed the approaching stranger. Powerful, dangerous; her mind registered him as such while her body heated in response to his strong masculinity. Very dangerous. Forcing her fingers to relax, she drew in a steadying breath, and bless the heavens, logic returned. Magic would only render him unconscious and she’d still be stuck in this chair.

“Give it up, Princess.”

Deep and menacing, his voice echoed through the craft and tripped her heart—along with his next words.

“It’s no use. You’re at my mercy now.”

Large hands curled around her wrists and restraints, sending a shockwave of shivers up her arms. Eyes, no longer frosty, blazed with desire and ravaged her face as he leaned in. She stopped breathing.

Holy cosmos! He was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to.

BUY HERE

2009-04-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

When a writer’s life is words on a computer screen, we can forget where we’ve left them all but never where we have not sent them yet. The number of people whose eyes have not read our writing overwhelms us on some days…

My blog is veeeery quiet, yet I’ve written more words in the past two weeks than I have for years.

Just not here.

Reason #1: spending energy writing non-fiction for pay. Go read my non-fiction work, if you’re curious.

Reason #2: fiction words spilling from the brain I share with Patti Ann Colt on a new book we’re writing together. We’re 1/3 of the way into the book in only one month, so the writing is going well. Set in her fictional town of Echo Falls, Texas, the book we’re collaborating on centers on rookie cop Matt Parker and the former homecoming queen he rescues from a bad situation.

Reason #3: SYTYCD Australia. Just a time-waster in general. But loads of fun.

As for forgetting where we've been, I stumbled across this guest-blog post I wrote back in November. The blog owner did not tell me when she'd be posting it so I didn't notice until recently it had posted in February. Go read how revisions from the publishing editor affects both the author and the editor on Fiction Matters.

Kenpo: And I never did tell y'all I won third place overall in our tournament season for the adult division. I got a spiffy trophy. Kidlet won a matching trophy for her division. At the end of this month I will earn my half orange/half purple belt, and in July should earn my purple. Yay me.

This is SO not what I was going to do tonight

2009-03-25T22:32:00.000-07:00

Holy Blog Of Doom, Batman! I just had a cup of tea and realised I have not updated this since I had to start working to pay the ridiculous food and gas prices to feed my kid... You would not believe I spend all my time in front of a computer. I hope you still love me! I am absolutely consumed with discovering time doesn't stand still, commitments, just generally being a slave to my employer, my day is passing in a blur from the moment my child manages to unlock my bedroom door and use me as a jumping castle to 11pm at which point I fall asleep on the couch. I am not complaining though. Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get. I will try to remember I promised you I will write something that makes sense soon. Truly! Until my paycheck dawneth.

(idea stolen from Carrie, who took it from The Lazy Blogger's Post)

It's spring break this week. Let's see, I don't remember Monday, Tuesday was spent at Putters all afternoon with our summer park-group friends, Wednesday...

The feed store has baby chickens and ducks again, so daily I field begging "Let's go to the feeding store and pick up chickens!" I made a deal with her that the answer would be yes if I didn't have to hear it constantly. Once per week, on Wednesdays, just prior to karate class, as the feed store is across the street. We got there early today, to go with plans, and GASP! No chickens. Empty bins. They'll get more April 1. Disappointed Kidlet.

So we proceeded to our next fun thing--we were going to see Bolt! at the cheap-seats-theater, but apparently so was the rest of our town because the showing was sold out. Dejected Kidlet got an ice cream cone and 10 minutes' worth of browsing the toy aisles at Target instead. Just looking, not buying, as we have no money. We did find shoes for her to wear to Nate's wedding in May, to go with her gorgeous flower girl get-up, so the trip to the mall wasn't a total loss. We purchased tickets for Friday's showing instead, so she'll still get to see it.

Thursday we're going to a puppet show with marionettes, The Jungle Book, at our new downtown upscale theater-house. I haven't been inside since they've remodled, so this should be fun. Free show, designed for kids. Can't pass that up.

Good French Film--Who knew?

2009-03-02T19:49:00.000-08:00

My MIL stumbled upon a great animated movie this weekend and shared it with us. Some parts may be a tad scary for little ones, what with dragons that break apart into bats and all, but Dragon Hunters (Chasseurs de dragons) was a fantabulous piece of art. We watched the English Language version.

While it has a good story to tell about trust and doing the right thing and believing in yourself, the real standout in this movie is the stunning backgound art. Rolling balls of farmland floating in a cloudy sky, pieces of ruined castles and monuments floating past and breaking apart. Carved relief artwork of dragons and civilizations past...all taken for granted by the characters.

Go find and rent if you can! Aparently it was a cartoon series on TV in 2004, but this film came out in 2008.

The Applegates Are Back - The Sweetheart Dance

2009-02-13T06:00:00.000-08:00

Today I have my friend, author Patti Ann Colt, as a guest. Her latest novel, The Sweetheart Dance, is available today in both print and e-book from The Wild Rose Press. You can also order from Amazon.com.

Although Echo Falls high school teacher Meg Applegate aches to belong to Bret Cara body and soul, he maintains a hands-off policy. She is wife material and violates his no relationship philosophy based on years with combative parents. But when a practical joker spikes Meg’s drinks at the Valentine’s Day Sweetheart Dance, Bret comes to her rescue – and she astounds him with a hot, sensual kiss.

Assisting the police department in tracking teen felons, Meg takes the opportunity to snag the handsome cop’s attention and they launch an affair based on Bret’s ‘no strings’ rules. But each searing encounter conflicts with her beliefs and dreams. She cannot maintain their bargain forever, but despite making love he seems no closer to giving her what she needs.

When Meg’s conscience demands more from him, will Bret walk away or deliver his heart?

Beyond the two novels, Patti offers short stories, maps and recipes from Echo Falls on her website pattianncolt.com.

KM: Patti, welcome to my blog.

PAC: I’m thrilled to be here. Thank you so much for having me.

KM: You know I would like to live in Echo Falls, the fictional town you created in north Texas. We first set foot in this small happy community in The Daddy Spell, and in TSD we learn more people and places as we follow Meg Applegate, younger sister of Chad, the hero from TDS—don’t mix up those acronyms—persuading Officer Bret Cara to be her valentine. Since I know this town and your two-and-a-fifth books set there (plus the short stories), maybe you can answer some oddball questions rabid fans like me might like to know:

KM: We know from Meg’s experience that Fruity Blasts are non-alcoholic…normally. What is supposed to be in Myrtle Jenkins’ Fruity Blasts?

PAC:

Ingredients: 2 1/2 cups white sugar, 6 cups water, 2 (3 ounce) packages strawberry flavored gelatin mix, 1 (46 fluid ounce) can pineapple juice, 2/3 cup lemon juice, 1 quart orange juice, 2 (2 liter) bottles of 7-Up or lemon-lime soda, 1 flat of fresh strawberries.

Directions: In a large saucepan, combine sugar, water, and strawberry flavored gelatin. Boil for 3 minutes. Stir in pineapple juice, lemon juice, and orange juice. Divide mixture in half, and freeze in 2 separate containers. When ready to serve, place the frozen contents of one container in a punch bowl, and stir in 1 bottle of 7-Up or lemon-lime soda until slushy. Puree a flat of fresh strawberries and add chunks to the punch bowl.

Trevor Dupree, Meg’s date for the Sweetheart Dance was spiking hers with vodka. Something I’m sure Myrtle Jenkins would not have approved of.

KM: In your “About me” page, you mention an early love of reading coming in the form of Nancy Drew books. Here’s a question Kidlet will like, as she wants to BE Nancy Drew: How are Meg Applegate and Nancy Drew alike?

PAC: Meg shares Nancy Drew’s curiosity for life. She approaches her teaching with much the same enthusiasm and determination as Nancy Drew does with her cases. Meg always imagined herself to be best pals with Nancy Drew when she read her stories, too.

KM: What is the birth order of the four (adult) Applegate children: Rick, Chad, Tom, and Meg?

PAC: Rick is oldest; Tom came along 14 months later; Chad was born 2 years after, and Meg is the youngest, born three and half years after Chad.

KM. How is Echo Falls coping with the changes in their demographics? That is, the WWII veterans are dying off, kids leaving for the city rather than staying home on the farm, gun scares at the school—how is Mayor Helen Applegate looking toward the future of the community?

PAC: As mayor of Echo Falls, Mayor Helen has been concerned with the dwindling population and the loss of their friends and neighbors to larger communities and better opportunities. She has proposed the town develop an art community to increase tourism, something you’ll learn more about in Book 3. Echo Falls has been a farming, ranching community for almost one hundred fifty years. Other than the reservoir and the campers and boaters it attracted, there isn’t any tourism to speak of. What she is proposing would drastically change the makeup of the community. There’s been lengthy debate in the town paper, at the town meetings on the subject, and within the Applegate family. Also, she has been committed to supporting police chief Paul Hudson maintaining a strong police force to help keep their small community safe.

KM: Where did the VFW purchase crepe paper for the dance decorations?

PAC: Sal’s Grocery and Farmer’s Market. Usually the committee would buy from the Corner Pharmacy, but the high school bought out all the red for a special Valentine’s fundraiser.

KM: How cheap is a rental house in the Canyon?

PAC: It depends on how greedy the landlord is. Mr. Pearson, Robin’s landlord in The Daddy Spell charged her $350 for her small hovel. An honest landlord would have settled for half that because of its age and condition. You really don’t want to know what Chad had to say to Mr. Pearson when he found out how the man had overcharged her!

KM: What model/make of truck does Bret Cara (hero of The Sweetheart Dance) drive?

PAC: Ford F-150 – the truck every self-respecting Texan drives around here.

KM: What is the best dish to order at Clem’s Restaurant?

PAC: Oooh, there are so many. Clem makes a hamburger to die for, fried chicken and pot roast. . . making my mouth water here. But probably the best item: chicken fried steak with biscuits and gravy. Yum! One of Clem’s recipes is in the Free Extras—Community Recipes section on my website.

KM: In TSD, we learn high-schooler Tyler Murray’s dad is in the Army Reserves and was sent to Iraq. Has Echo Falls offered other young men and women to Operation Iraqi Freedom?

PAC: Echo Falls has had nine men and two women who have served or who are serving in Operation Iraqi Freedom. And Mayor Helen has honored them all with special service awards. Also two men have served in Afghanistan. Plus, the last high school graduating class has two members who had been accepted to West Point and one to the Naval Academy, the most ever from a graduating class.

KM: How long did it take you to give up creating a third matching acronym for Tom’s book (the third Echo Falls novel, currently being written) and go with KMG?

PAC: LOL! Too darn brain-wrecking long! Using the same letters in the title of both The Daddy Spell (TDS) and The Sweetheart Dance (TSD) was an accident in the first place, but it was sure fun considering if I could come up with another one. I gave up on that idea when I read a poem/lyrics by Robert Hiers titled Always Kiss Me Goodnight that embodied the romantic side of Tom and Summer’s story, so the Kiss Me Goodnight title was a natural. Part of the poem goes:

“Always kiss me goodnight
No matter where you are in the night.
And I will kiss you in my mind
Waiting for the nights to come,
when the kisses can be real,
and we are one.”

KM: Thanks for putting up with me, Patti. It was fun having you here!

PAC: It is always fun talking Echo Falls with you! Thanks for having me.

Oregon Foods Article

2009-02-09T10:09:00.000-08:00

I published another non-fiction piece:

Foods You Must Try when in Oregon
Oregonian food is a reflection of the area's heritage, drawn from local flora and fauna. From salmon and other seafood to berries and hazelnuts to wine and cheese, Oregon's tastes are uncomplicated products of farming and fishing.
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1404606/foods_you_must_try_when_in_oregon.html

Go, read. Enjoy!

A Book Meme

2009-02-06T15:53:00.000-08:00

Book meme from Carrie Lofty

1. Tell me about the book that has been on your shelves the longest.

That would be the ratty copy of Richard Adams’ Watership Down, held together with clear contact paper. Or, as Carrie remembered in her meme, the Little House books, but they’re in the guest room in my “young readers” section…any of those books might be older in my collection than WD, actually. Anne of Green Gables, The Mouse and the Motorcycle, my Judy Blume collection.

2. Tell me about a book that reminds you of something specific in your life.

Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonsong along with Dragonflight and Dragonquest. Those three were among the handful of my book collection I took with me to college. They sat on my special bed-shelf with my water glass and tiny lamp waaaay up high on my bunk bed, near the ceiling of the dorm room. Many nights I re-read them for comfort in a strange place.

3. Tell me about a book you acquired in some interesting way.

The only book I ever kept late from the public library was Plague Dogs, by Richard Adams, when I was in middle school. Took for-e-ver to get through, though it was a good book. In college I used to haunt a used bookstore near campus and one day I found a copy. Now it will never be late again.

4. Tell me about a book that has been with you to the most places.

Those that I mentioned above that I took to college have followed me to eight homes.

5. Tell me about the most recent addition to your shelves.

At a Coffeetime Romance chat, I won a copy of Touched by Love by Zebra author Tracy Garrett, which she mailed to me with M&M’s in the package.

First Submission

2009-02-02T10:06:00.000-08:00

This past week was huge for me. Not only did I meet my goal of bringing the word count of The Empire's Edge up to 80K (the minimum size desired by most publishers), but I submitted a query package to TOR/Forge, mailing it off on Saturday.

Wish me luck! I should hear within 6 months.

The first draft of this book, which I finished four or five years ago, held a mere 45K. I began writing this book in April 2003, so it's about time this baby got out the door.

My first real novel. Wow.

Now to write another or three...

The opposite of pro is con, so the opposite of progress...

2009-02-02T09:57:00.000-08:00

Update on the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act of 2008 (CPSIA) going into effect February 10:

Senator Jim DeMint of South Carolina wrote on his blog Friday that he would introduce legislation this week to reform the CPSIA and “better balance the need for safety with a common-sense business approach.” His proposed legislation would allow small manufacturers to comply by using the testing and certification that their component suppliers have done, rather than having to test final products. (This is the approach several publishers already are taking.) It also would prevent retroactive enforcement of the Act, which would eliminate the testing requirement for books manufacturered prior to the deadline, a major concern for publishers, booksellers, schools and libraries, and would exempt resellers, including thrift stores and used booksellers, from the Act’s provisions. [go here for full article]

So, it's not a done-deal yet, but someone is thinking about the impact of such a broad categorical decision that all things kid-oriented need to be tested for lead and pthalates.

Further update: Snopes.com has this helpful article clarifying the requirements of the CPSIA act in regards to used clothing and children's products in circulation produced prior to Feb 10, 2009. Go, read. I'm happier now.

Demon Lover Returns

2009-01-28T14:08:00.001-08:00

If you have a spare $3.50 in your PayPal account, this angst-ridden Miniature Rose from TWRP is worth downloading--and definitely worth the read. BUY HERE

The memory of her pyreweld demon lover haunts HANNAH REED. Two years ago, WILL CALDWELL deserted her for a female demon, extinguishing a burning passion in Hannah’s heart. Left to rekindle scattered feelings, Hannah turns more and more to her old friend MICHAEL PARKER. Until the day he announces that he loves her—the same day Hanna senses Will’s return to their small Texas town.

Hannah flees to New York City rather than choose between them. But when her life is placed in danger, will her strength claw its way forward and allow her heart to make a decision?

Hannah's innocent pining for her former lover grabs you on page one and doesn't let go. Michael's patience and love vs. Will's fiery passion--the clash of the two drive Hannah to New York City, a long way from Jasper, TX where she grew up, to sort out her feelings with the help of her best friend--Michael's former steady. Cait McCarter's description of the tangled web of youthful relationships put me right back at the age of 22, right back to the begining of adulthood. Who will you root for Hannah to end up with? The choice was easy for me, in hindsight, but seen through Hannah's eyes, the choice is agonizing. Here's an excerpt:

Will snapped his fingers and flames sparked from his fingertips. In constant awe of his abilities, I watched the flames flicker. Such an awesome anomaly he was—my demon lover.

I snuggled into the crook of his arm, his body warm and inviting. The firelight dimmed then returned in a flash, creating dancing shadows on the walls of my bedroom. He laughed, his voice husky and smooth.

That’s when I knew I was dreaming.

It didn’t matter how many times I remembered our final night together, I always woke alone. I blamed her. I blamed him. I blamed myself.

“Don’t go,” I whispered in my dream. Unable to stop myself, I pressed my lips to his fiery skin. His palm came to rest on my hip, my skin immediately warming in response to his touch.

“I have to,” he replied as his hand trailed fire up and down my spine. The physical sensation of his touch wasn’t the only way he burned me. It was a disease, my addiction to him, to his heat.

“Don’t leave,” I begged, placing my palms on either side of Will’s face, knowing I had to convince him to give up his foolish plan. “Promise me you won’t go after her.”

“I have to find her. I have to know.”

Slowly, I opened my eyes. The West Texas sun was bright, filtering unabated into my bedroom. It was a new day in Jasper, and I was alone.

America--Land of Hope

2009-01-20T14:28:00.000-08:00

New Tool for Writers

2009-01-16T10:33:00.000-08:00

I found this evil tool via following links from one freelance writer's blog to another this morning and thought I'd share...

	63

3

lab.drwicked.com

To use the tool yourself, go to Dr. Wicked's post about his neato NaNo invention. In his words, "Write or Die is a web application that encourages writing by punishing the tendency to avoid writing. Start typing in the box. As long as you keep typing, you're fine, but once you stop typing, you have a grace period of a certain number of seconds and then there are consequences." [Flashing colors, annoying music, nasty sounds, etc. or you can opt for worse, such as your newly typed words disappearing as you sit idle.]

He goes on to say this profound bit: "A tangible consequence is more effective than an intangible reward."

Struggling to stay focused when doing your word count or set time? This tool will whip you into shape.

Hollywood High Concept

2009-01-15T11:33:00.000-08:00

Want a laugh or two? Follow the link.

Big Hollywood is a blog Hubby follows. Today he sent me to this hilarious post by Iowahawk about supposed upcoming films for 2009. See if you can guess what these proposed films are based on (they're spoofs).

One example:
Dark Spinach: Brooding, conflicted superhero sailor man (Matt Damon) must face his own inner demons and canned vegetable addiction to save his anorexic lover (Gwyneth Paltrow) in the violent screen adaptation of Frank Miller’s graphic novel. Featuring Mickey Rourke as Bluto.

Go read the rest. They're funny.

No More Resale Kid's Clothes

2009-01-13T11:38:00.001-08:00

Hubby sent me to Tam's blog and from there to an article in the LA Times about a new law congress passed without notifying the rest of us...that will affect every family in the nation.

Like many parents, I clothe Kidlet in hand-me-down, second-hand-store, children's resale shop clothes. Can't afford to purchase new. Silly to purchase new when perfectly good like-new clothing is available otherwise. Right? We parents won't have a choice after February 10.

And handmade clothes? No way can anyone sell them. Forget earning money with your own handiwork.

I'm horrified. Is there nothing we can do?

From the Times article:

Barring a reprieve, regulations set to take effect next month could force thousands of clothing retailers and thrift stores to throw away trunkloads of children's clothing.
The law, aimed at keeping lead-filled merchandise away from children, mandates that all products sold for those age 12 and younger -- including clothing -- be tested for lead and phthalates, which are chemicals used to make plastics more pliable. Those that haven't been tested will be considered hazardous, regardless of whether they actually contain lead.
"They'll all have to go to the landfill," said Adele Meyer, executive director of the National Assn. of Resale and Thrift Shops.
The new regulations take effect Feb. 10 under the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act, which was passed by Congress last year in response to widespread recalls of products that posed a threat to children, including toys made with lead or lead-based paint.

UPDATE: Publisher's Weekly updates readers about book publishers' fight to exempt children's books from this testing restriction. Read the article here.

Back to the Grind

2009-01-06T15:54:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year. I don't count the new year as starting until A) Christmas is packed away in the garage and B) Hubby and Kidlet return to their normal routine out of the house.

Both had taken place as of 8 am yesterday.

Kenpo Karate tournament #3 is coming up in two weeks--and we're finding out in bits and pieces what all will be expected. We have to choreograph self-defense techniques and coordinate with the "bodies" that volunteer to help. Looks like heavy-rotation in class time again...At the end of this tournament, we not only receive certificates for each event but also trophies to represent our overall ranking from the three tournaments.

I want a trophy, darn it.

It's worth the $10 and all the practice and stress. (My practice and Hubby's stress--he doesn't like performing in front of people). Kidlet doesn't mind performing but dislikes practice...but she's up for a trophy as well. She is the only one of us who participated in tourney #1, grappling and sparring, back in June.

My writing is on track for upcoming submission to a big-house publisher. I don't want to jinx the process so will stay mum until it's done. Also, I have two new WIP concurrently, one short and one long.

Great inspirational quote:

Patrick Stewart said, in reference to advice given by a race-driving coach, "Look at where you want to go, not where you're afraid to go." (At least I think that's close to what he said. I vegged on the couch earlier today watching Star Trek specials on the Biography Channel.)

Santa was kind

2008-12-29T19:09:00.000-08:00

Kelly's fave gifts this year:

New coat (Cabella's catalogue...warm) and Ug-boot knock-offs from Hubby. And my very first Mp3 player, a QVC gift from MIL. Yes, I'm a tech dinosaur. It's a tiny 1Gb, but still holds lots.

I've been having fun combing through our CD collection, smashing the files to Mp3 and transferring them to the device, then rearranging the files to suit me. Still fiddling. What fun! I'm dredging up music I haven't listened to in years. Now I can hear it whenever I like. If I want to listen to music while I type without disturbing anyone else--I can! I'm up to the "J"s and it's a little over half full. I may have to cull some songs. So far, the only entire album that has made the cut is A-Ha Hunting High and Low.

And I may have to go music shopping to get some of the cool stuff Carrie listens to.

In other news, Kidlet was unable to fully enjoy Uncle Nate's annual visit, due to a high fever. She's better as of this morning, but not running on full steam yet. Fever + worrying symptoms after 5pm on Saturday had us scurrying to the Urgent Care office. Non-urgent care...didn't see a doctor for four hours. Kidlet slept for two hours curled in a waiting room chair. I was stupid and forgot to bring a book. They didn't have any magazines to look at. Triage nurse found no fever--the Tylenol was still working. Doctor found no cause to worry. Said rest, fluids, yadda yadda. Still, we were glad we took her in, to rule out major infection. Mommy suffered two nights of child with temperature of 103. Thank goodness nothing worse, though. Cultures confirmed this morning no UTI, which was my big worry Sat night. Of course I knew that by now...

Update on New Year's Day...fever continued all week. On Wednesday, I took her to her normal pediatrician, who looked in her throat and said, "Wow--I'll bet it didn't look like that on Saturday!" Doc took a throat culture (so much fun for Kidlet) to check for Strep. Initial test results are negative, but the longer-taking more accurate test results still could come up positive tomorrow. Poor kid. She feels much better today, in spite of a swollen and sore throat. Appeteit is back--and a good thing too. She's lost three pounds. Sucky Christmas vacation for Kidlet; she's been sick the whole time.

Smell the Roses

2008-12-19T09:36:00.000-08:00

In January 2007, the Washington Post conducted a very interesting experiment: If a world-class violinist were to play his Stradivarius at the Metro station unannounced during rush hour, how much of a crowd would he draw?

I recommend you take the time to read the fabulous article about this.

Ask yourself, would you have stopped to listen? Even crunched for time? Would you recognize the strength of this man's art in such a context? Out of the 1,000 or so commuters who passed Joshua Bell that day, only a handful paused any length of time (mere minutes) to listen. A musician whose concerts garner $100 per seat--the cheap seats--gathered a grand total $32.17 in his violin case within that one hour. Think about that total, and realize pennies were thrown; many grudgingly, with embarrassed, furtive scurrying.

Have you ever paid a street musician?

Thanks to my friend Carol, for alerting me to this article.

Kid Art

2008-12-16T08:55:00.001-08:00

Two offerings today, the second of our snow closures for this week. Temps this morning reached 10 degrees--very unusual for our temparate region. Our Rinnai had little usefulness as the pipes leading to and from it froze. Thank goodness they didn't burst. My resourceful hubby set the parabolic space heater in front of it for half an hour and the hot water returned. Hooray! Yes, the pipes are insulated; apparently not well enough for 10 degree weather. I'm off to Jerry's to find more/better insulation.

The sun is out, which should melt the rest of yesterday's ice off the pavement on most roads. We're supposed to get massive amounts of snow tomorrow, so we'll see.

The promised art...Kidlet studied fire safety in her first grade class last week.

She says these two are husband and wife.

And this year's gingerbread house. This is the fifth house she and I have made together. I confess I did most of the work this year, as she handed me a photo she snipped from Good Housekeeping and said, "Let's make this one this year, Mommy." I did my best to imitate it, making up the pattern out of cardboard, rolling and baking the pieces, frosting and candy-ing it to match fairly close. You can't see in this photo, but the chimney bricks are little pieces of Bubble Tape. The random candies stuck about are Kidlet's contribution.

I think it turned out well. You can't see the Necco-wafer walkway leading to the front door, hidden behind the silver garland in this photo. Smells wonderful, too.

The first house we made, when Kidlet was two, Shadow ate while we were out to dinner. No, didn't make the dog sick; but his burps smelled HORRIBLE for a week. Houses have been carefully guarded behind the baby-gate fence since then.

Merry muffins and hope all your shopping and gift wrapping goes smoothly.

Wow, has it been that long?

2008-12-09T09:40:00.001-08:00

I blurred Hubby's name to protect his privacy. He doesn't like his name splashed about--insists our phone number should not be listed in the phone book, etc. After thirteen years of honoring his wishes, however eye-roll-inducing they may be, I shall continue to do so, as promised. But happy anniversary to us! The poem is lyrics to "The Sweetheart Tree" by Henry Mancini, from The Great Race.

Nicer photo than the ones the professional photog ("The weasel" as Hubby calls him) took. This was a snapshot from a friend of my mother's. I was really young.After the ceremony, our friend drove us to Hubby's mom's apartment, where we showered and I washed off the mask of makeup and hairspray. After a simple dinner cooked by my new MIL, Hubby and I drove to Portland through the aftermath of the nasty ice storm that prevented many friends and relatives from coming to the ceremony. We parked our car at a friend's house, and the friend drove us to PDX, where we hopped a plane at midnight bound for points east.

The stewardesses cooed over us and gave us champagne and tiny United Airlines glasses.

You can see where we went on our honeymoon. DC was freaking cold in December. We visited Mt. Vernon straight from the airport, but I was so tired I remember nothing except falling asleep in my peanut soup at the restaurant.

We stayed at the best man's house, to visit his pregnant wife and family and tour for a few days before continuing on to the more honeymoonish destination of Disneyworld. When we arrived at the house, the best man's 5-yr-old daughter graciously informed me that my new husband would be sleeping in her room and I could have the couch.

Cute tyke. No.

Disneyworld was far more fun than we anticipated, and we ended up going back for our fifth anniversary. But -20F + 65 and humid + three airplane rides = two sick newlyweds.

Still, the "wedding monster" didn't eat us, and we survived both ceremony and honeymoon and the aftermath, and gift opening and thank-you-letter-writing.

That was a long time ago, in a life far, far away LOL.

What odd memories do you retain from your wedding/honeymoon?

Willing Distraction

2008-12-04T11:31:00.000-08:00

A cold has slowed me down and left me distracted. Just in time, the mailman brought me a much anticipated treat--

In this dazzling, original tale, Carrie Lofty imagines a new chapter in the well-loved Robin Hood fable. Meet Robin's rakish nephew, Will Scarlet, a man whose talents with the sword and the ladies are legendary--until his desire for one woman changes everything.

A Passionate Lover...

A swordsman for the Sheriff of Nottingham, Will Scarlet has finally emerged from his famous uncle's shadow. But when he's unwittingly drawn into a bloody battle between the Sheriff and a nobleman, it's impossible to tell friend from foe. A woman's screams lead Will straight into the carnage to save her--but the ravishing young lady is not the helpless maid she appears to be…

An Amorous Lady...

Meg of Keyworth lost her sight to illness years ago, but that hasn't stopped her mission to save her imprisoned sister, who's been arrested by none other than Will Scarlet. Meg wants to hate Will for betraying her family, but he sparks heated desire in her heart--a desire that only he can satisfy. Meg is lovely and loving, and bedding her is sensual bliss. To please her in every way is what he wants most, for Will knows he will cherish her forever....

What marvelous fun to read again--and nice to see my name in the acknowledgments in a big-print-New York-house published book. It's better than the phone book. I am somebody!

As thrillng as it will be when I see my own work in print (someday), the thrill is no less seeing my friend's work out there. I am so proud of everything this determined lady has accomplished in the past two years to make her publishing dream come true.

Go to her blog to follow links to all the interviews and great reviews of her first work in print.

The sequel is due out next year. I've read it, loved it, can't wait to see that one too!

I read the opening chapter to Kidlet, skimming through the not-for-six-year-old parts, and she said, "Your friend should make a movie out of this."

It certainly has enough action to make a good movie. Swordfights, explosions, chase scenes through forest and castle, dungeons, horses, and many steamy love scenes.

Rapunzel No Longer

2008-11-24T10:39:00.000-08:00

After years of screaming, "NO! Don't cut my hair (at all), I want it loooonnng like Rapuuunnzzelllll!" my darling daughter announced yesterday she wanted her hair bobbed like the rest of her friends have had done.

Sigh.

I'm actually happy about this, because combing it in the morning will no longer take fifteen minutes + screaming. It is safe to say the last of the damage from this summer's swimming lessons is now gone as well.

The cut turned out really cute. I did a good job. I won't show kidlet's face, but to give you an idea how it looks on her, check out Ms. Whitherspoon.

What a Scoundrel Wants is a Contest...

2008-11-22T12:16:00.000-08:00

If the image doesn't appear, you can see here:

Really Good Romance Movie

2008-11-02T09:21:00.000-08:00

Hubby stopped by the rental place yesterday to pick up a movie to share, and grabbed two for Kidlet and one extra for me while he was there.

He picked good.

"No Reservations" (2007), based on the German film "Bella Martha" (2001), is a sweet, well-written and acted romance. Starring Catherine Zeta-Jones, Aaron Eckhart, and Abigail Breslin.

Summary from IMDB.com:

A master chef, Kate, lives her life like she runs the kitchen at upscale 22 Bleecker Restaurant in Manhattan--with a no-nonsense intensity that both captivates and intimidates everyone around her. With breathtaking precision, she powers through each hectic shift, coordinating hundreds of meals, preparing delicate sauces, seasoning and simmering each dish to absolute perfection.

Sent to therapy by the restaurant owner because she is cold, unyielding, rule-bound, and a pain in the neck, Kate's world is flipped over when her only sister dies and her ten-year-old niece, Zoe, comes to live with her. As Kate struggles to be a parent to a grief-stricken child, the one world she used to control - the restaurant kitchen - is changed utterly by the restaurant's hiring a second chef, the loose, operatic, Italian-trained Nick, who claims it's an honor to work in Kate's kitchen but who she suspects wants to replace her. Can the music of Puccini and the taste of good pasta soften Kate's heart?

It's billed as "warm-hearted and funny," which means keep the tissues handy. Zeta-Jones' experience as a mother no doubt helped her bring the necessary emotions forward in her role as Kate. Breslin shows great promise as an actress so far in her career, coming nowhere near overplaying her grief in this role. The scene where she meets Nick is especially well-done.

This I've-never-heard-of-it movie jumped into Hubby's hand due to the chef aspect of the story. We're fans of "Hell's Kitchen" and Chef Ramsey's other show "Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares." A nice side-effect of watching a professional chef teach up-and-coming chefs the business is that Hubby is more willing to allow me to experiment with food for his dinner. I get more variety in my food and less upset when he gives feedback on how to improve or change the recipe. He has the palate (snort), I have the skills to cook the ingredients. It works for us.

Hubby came downstairs to check how I liked the film, about an hour in, and he started watching it with me. Sucked in totally. He was even guessing out loud what the characters would do next to solve the problems getting in their way (quite acurately). Later, to his friend, he loudly proclaimed it a "chick flick." Uh-huh. "It wasn't bad," he said. He was very pleased he found a film I enjoyed to gift me with for the afternoon.

Find this film and watch it. You won't be sorry. Themes of grief, love, control, and career satisfaction.

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T14:32:00.000-07:00

Kidlet and I got crafty this year. Aside from three jack o'lanterns (one from a ginormous Cinderella pumpkin we got free from her first grade teacher), we followed a craft idea from a magazine to create this cool castle out of boxes, cardboard tubes, and an egg carton:

We took another box from Costco and turned it into a spooky diorama:

Kidlet made the ghosts out of cotton balls wrapped with tissues and tape. Squiggly trees are chenille pipe-cleaners. Popsicle-stick fence. Grave markers at the bottom don't show well in this photo, but they're painted cardboard.

We had fun.

Now, go get candy.

Math is Tough

2008-10-27T16:06:00.000-07:00

I'd like to know why the Real Market Value for my house went down by $15K from last year, yet the county assessor says the assessed value went up by $8K, therefore they must tax me at the higher value...

(grumble grumble)

Puts the Art in Martial Arts...

2008-10-21T15:09:00.000-07:00

My (male) Kenpo instructor told me Monday night that he downloaded and is reading my book...began reading with recognizing the places and some of the people, but soon was sucked into the story.

Perhaps I'll make a romance book fan of him...

Martial Hearts Review

2008-10-14T12:26:00.001-07:00

My first review for Martial Hearts is here. Diana Coyle named it a "keeper." Here's what she had to say:

"I really enjoyed this story penned by Ms. McCrady. It was a fun, light read that I thoroughly enjoyed. The storyline was fresh and new and I loved how she described the details of the scenes and how April was feeling every time she saw Austin in the same room as her. I would recommend this story to other readers and I will definitely look into other work done by Ms. McCrady."

Yay! On sale tomorrow...

Going Around in Circles

2008-10-10T13:53:00.001-07:00

Interesting how articles like this get buried.

From August, 2004:

FDR's Policies Prolonged Depression

Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

The Classic Dames Test

2008-10-06T10:42:00.000-07:00

Your result for The Classic Dames Test...

Katharine Hepburn

You scored 12% grit, 38% wit, 38% flair, and 19% class!

You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women.

Find out what kind of classic leading man you'd make by taking the
Take The Classic Dames Test at HelloQuizzy

There is also a Classic Leading Men test. Hubby came up as Humphrey Bogart.

Published Again

2008-10-01T13:47:00.000-07:00

Check out my recently published content on AC:
Feeding Backyard Birds in Winter

One, Two, Three (clap clap), You Rock!

2008-09-28T10:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my family participated in our Kenpo Karate school's forms tournament. Forms are a choreographed collection of self-defence techniques that train principles of our art such as proper stance, proper weapon, proper height, and posture (all the p's). The forms are performed singly against invisible opponents--kinda like Karate air-guitar--and bookending the form itself are formal salutes and salutations. Picture a crowd of parents (60 people or so) four judging black belts (our instructors) and all the competitors in six divisions...watching your every move...knowing when you've screwed it up...We had three events in the competition, and at my belt level there were three of us pitted against each other: me, Hubby, and another woman. Kidlet was in a group of four in her division. She won second in her two events.

My awards:

Kenpo Forms & Sets (formal sets/forms known school-wide, passed down from Ed Parker and Skip Hancock) 2nd Place. Now, had I performed the same form as the other two competitors, I'd've kicked their butts, but I chose a different set due to the similarities between my made-up open-hand form and Short Form I--didn't want to confuse myself. And then I bobbled the first portion of my set (oops) though to my credit I kept going and didn't make a face.

Weapon Forms (made up ourselves. I chose to use the staff) 2nd Place. Tied for first with Hubby, who also used staff, but his routine was killer while mine was rather simple...we tied because he blanked out on part of his form the first time and didn't perform it like he'd practiced. He got 4x 8.6 while I got 2x 8.5 + 2x 8.7. when we faced off, he did his better and I was happy to see that--he worked hard on that form and deserved first place.

Creative Forms (made up ourselves; open-hand) 1st Place. I blew them away. This is the form I concentrated on in creation and practice. 8.6's across the board. And what am I thinking the whole time? "How could I have bumped that up to an 8.8?"

A good time was had by all. Glad the stress of preparation and performance is over. Much muscle soreness today--from sitting cross-legged for two hours.

Love With a Welcome Stranger

2008-09-21T08:38:00.000-07:00

I’d like to shout about this great cowboy love-story from my stable of authors. My author is shy—but I’m not. Take a look, then go get a copy!

BLURB:
She doesn't remember that the handsome Montana rancher was once a poor cowboy who loved her. He can't forget that she left him and never looked back.

Mandy McCay's life as a Hollywood starlet ended with a bullet from a deranged fan. Miraculously, she recovers, learns to walk and speak, but there are gaps in her memory. Important gaps. The years her face and figure were splashed across tabloid pages are easy. But what happened the summer before she left Montana?

Like everyone in Mandy's home town, Campbell West followed her medical miracle on TV. He's not prepared for her to come home more beautiful than ever, or for the sudden new attraction between them. At least, Mandy thinks it's new. Cam--God help him!-- remembers every inch of her body! When should he tell her of their passionate love, her betrayal, and his pain? Or can he risk forgetting it all--and hoping she'll never remember?

EXCERPT:
"Cam, would you come over here?" Mandy patted the bench on her side of the redwood table and tugged the elastic top of her blouse down a few inches, showing her shoulders in the faint starlight.

"Over there?" He moved slowly, but his mind was racing down the track, somewhere near the quarter mile mark. Keep it light. He sat on her side of the table, leaving a good two feet between her thigh and his.

"What's up?" He took a mouthful of coffee.

She scooted close to him and smiled. "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

He choked, spraying coffee. She'd just said his line.

"Is something wrong?"

Twelve years of aching loneliness won out over good sense. He took her in his arms. "This is not a question," he said in a deep voice, and claimed her lips. When they broke for air, his heart was racing.

"All right, Mr. West," she said, taking little breaths that made her chest bob up and down and made his blood thrum in his groin, "if you feel so strongly about it, you may ask me some questions."

"I don't have any questions, only answers." He claimed her mouth again.

Pamela Britton says: From the first page, Lynnette Baughman proves she's destined to be a star. LOVE WITH A WELCOME STRANGER is the perfect blend of outstanding characterization and page-turning pacing. I hated to put it down. I can't wait to read more from this wonderful new talent.

Now available from The Wild Rose Press

BUY HERE

Put Some Pennies in My Pocket

2008-09-15T10:11:00.000-07:00

Check out my recently published content on AC:

Housecats in Danger: Allowing Cats to Roam Free May Have Catastrophic Results

Back to School

2008-09-05T16:22:00.000-07:00

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am enjoying a silent house six hours a day.

Within that, I am attempting to write my next novel, an adventure centered on a herd of African elephants. Think Watership Down or Black Beauty. In my first three days, I have accomplished 1,000 new words and loads of research. Did you know that in the miombo woodlands of eastern Tanzania, the trees fruit during the dry season of October to December? I spent half an hour looking that up, as I had to know what was available to eat in March that the elephants would like...mostly grass, it turns out, at the beginning of the long rainy season.

The average rainfall in that area is similar to the average annual rainfall right where I live--55 inches per year, and our average high/low temperatures bracket what is found in that region by ten degrees on either side.

A while back, I posted a photo of our little attempt at a corn patch. Here are the results of the maturing corn, average height three feet...

We have three theories as to the poor production. My theory is not enough sun. As you can see in the photo, the corn is in shade, in spite of that being the sunniest spot in the backyard. Kidlet's theory is not enough water, which is a valid point. Hubby's theory is poor soil, though I did amend it in spring with compost mulch, we will be adding more over this winter. Most likely a combination of all three factored in to make miniature corn. It will all make wonderful decorations for Halloween.

I'm not a creative enough knitter...

2008-08-29T14:22:00.000-07:00

Someone had a vision. I think this is hysterically funny. I want one...I may have to get the pattern offered HERE.

link sent by hubby via Willaim the Coroner

I Have One By-line

2008-08-28T15:26:00.000-07:00

I sorta left you all hanging, there...

Back to schoolness has hit, and like all parents I'm scrambling to conform to new schedules and expectations. Part of that is venturing into freelance writing.

I wrote an article, under my other name, about elementary school kids and nutrition. Simple ditty. Go. Read. Pat me on the head :-)

Like what you read? I'll write more if you like. Contact me at klschaub@yahoo.com

POV Nationals

2008-08-12T23:10:00.000-07:00

We have a unique opportunity to see through four sets of eyes. Carrie's experience, Patti's experience (four posts--read all four for the full pic), and Cathleen's (Lorelie's) experience. And now my own experience of the same events. (This sounds like the lead-in to a detective show, but it really does fill in details we each saw differently).

Wednesday, July 30
Discovered that Mahlon Sweet Airport no longer allows non-passengers through security to accompany anyone to the gate. Granny and Kidlet had to wave to me from the bottom of the escalators as I went through TSA strip-search (not really, but you know if you've flown recently). Kidlet wheedled goodies out of Granny at the gift store.

Lonely minutes perched on the edge of my airport chair, carry-on luggage clutched in a sweaty hand as I read the sign at the United Express counter proclaiming ALL CARRY ON ITEMS MUST FIT UNDER THE SEAT IN FRONT OF YOU. OVERSIZE BAGS MUST BE CHECKED. My rolly-cart suitcase, so compact and neatly stuffed with all I would need for my first vacation in six years, was much too large to fit under a seat--didn't the aircraft have overhead bins? I had no time to run all the way back downstairs, wait in line, check the back and go back through TSA. I fretted for fifteen minutes. They called my name--badly botching pronunciation--and I thought they know.

Instead, the lady handed me a different boarding pass than the one I'd printed from the computer the night before and asked if I was OK being seated on an emergency exit. Um, sure. More nervous waiting, until I noticed a man across from me had a larger rolly-suitcase.

All fretting was for naught (that ought to be my slogan) as yes, the 737 had overhead bins. I swung mine up overhead and tucked it away, then realized my seat had no seat in front of it--mega leg room! No passengers around me, either, on our mostly empty flight. Nice.

Patti had told me what gate to meet her plane, so after I arrived I wandered that direction. I had an hour to kill. Called Hubby to let him know I'd landed. To back up a second: flying into San Fran in the summer is interesting. A soft, fleecy blanket of fog covered the ground inland from the ocean everywhere except downtown (where our hotel was) and the airport. I kid you not. I'll bet when they chose the location they knew where the fog stopped and said "there." Patti's gate was at the end of one concorse with an unobstructed view of the take-offs and landings. More fun to watch that than try to read.

Patti met up with me and we grabbed her luggage and headed to BART. At least, we followed the sign we found, which took us on a circuitous route...then when we got to our destination, the BART station had four exits. The one we chose was not the same location as on the map, and I got us lost. This pattern repeated often during our weekend...

BART took longer than I had planned and we arrived/checked in with 25 min left of the literacy signing. What's this? Room number is 2 lower than Carrie's...We zipped to our room [yes,next door], dropped luggage, and waited waited waited for the elevator from 4th floor then down the escalators...down more escalators..to the world's largest ballroom. LOTS of people.

Patti and I split to find the one author we each needed to see in the final 15 min. I found my spot in the alphabet. Jade Lee. One track mind--want her to read Martial Hearts. Who was that tall lady in the black blouse at her table? Why, it was Carrie! Quick hug of recognition for internet pal newly met. Waved to Patti from behind Carrie's back and turned to Jade Lee while Carrie and Patti greeted. Got a copy of Tempted Tigress signed by Herself (RITA finalist, who sadly did not win) and she said "go ahead and send [MH] to me." In her vast amounts of free time she might be able to read it. Cross your fingers.

Minutes left. Soo much of the alphabet unseen. S. Oh, yeah, Susanne. I rushed about, forgetting how to alphabatize, and found one of my TWRP authors, Susanne Saville. Light chat of greeting. Anouncement to get in line to purchase dings overhead.

Tension releases a bit as we wait in line to purchase our books. I did the stupid traveling Oregonian thing and questioned why the book cost more than cover price. We have no sales tax in Oregon, silly me. Up to our room and fling open the adjoining room doors. Meet up with Ann and the five of us stroll to the MALL next door (many multi-floor mall of white-walled escalators with gold trim. Astounding) for dinner at a fantabulous restaurant. Cute waiter with great tips. Much good food, served family-style.

Back to the room. Patti crawled into bed and was soon asleep as the rest of us giggled and greeted. I turned out the lights in our room and pulled the door to, so we powowed in Carrie and Ann's room until 2:30.

More in another post.

Back to Reality

2008-08-11T08:44:00.000-07:00

I know, I got home a week ago. It’s taken a while to get caught up.

Nationals was fun. And huge. Ginormous. Tons of information, loads of free books (I brought back a fraction of what was available to the tune of $136-worth, all signed by the authors), scads of bookmarks/keychains/pens/postcards, and 2,000 other authors. Editors and agents were there too, somewhere, but they proved elusive outside the workshops. Can’t say I blame them for remaining scarce—romance writers and readers are an intimidating lot en masse.

You would not believe the size of that ballroom. And it was two stories underground, accessed by a series of down escalators.

The included food was better than your average banquet chicken; continental breakfasts proved yummy as well, if lacking in protein. The San Francisco Mariott has a fantastic locale in downtown, easy walking distance to myriad excellent restaurants, upscale shopping, and Chinatown. BART, on the same block, would take you anywhere else in the Bay Area.

PHOTO: Gate to Chinatown

And best of all was the presence of my critique partners and the fact that we got—yes—adjoining rooms, so by keeping the doors open during the day both rooms felt bigger.

Thank heaven for text messaging—that innovation made catching up to each other for luncheons and dinners easy.

You know how you get home and you look at your camera and find you didn’t take nearly as many photos as you thought you had? Photo sharing via the internet is another great thing. Between the four of us we captured enough of each other on film.

PHOTO: Lorelie Brown, Carrie Lofty, Ann Aguirre, me, Patti Ann Colt

The RITA awards soaked up the final night of the conference. A night to pretend we walk the red carpet. My crit partners posed for this lovely shot:

PHOTO: Carrie, Lorelie, Patti

Carrie turned her camera on me. Check out the outfit. The bartender did. Seriously. He came out from behind the bar to tell me he thought I was the best-dressed woman in the room. That’ll make a girl blush.

PHOTO: Me in 60’s Mod outfit, with Patti

Our luncheon and award ceremony speakers had amusing tales and good advice. Mostly what I heard in workshops was all good advice; some I’m already doing on my own, other things I plan to apply to my writing career. Overall, the “career” workshops were more useful than the “craft” workshops, which shows how much my craft abilities have grown.

I did speak with one editor (with Bantam Dell) directly but for only a few seconds, long enough for her to smile politely and request I send a query, which I did on Friday 08/08/08. Auspicious date; wish me luck.

I also met Jade Lee , Suzanne Brockman, Shana Abé, Evie Byrne, Bettie Sharpe, Meredith Duran, Susanne Saville, and goggled at how many people Carrie knows. Ate wonderful food, drank too much, stayed up too late three of four nights, giggled lots with my friends, and refreshed my belief in my own writing abilities and career.

And it’s good to be home.

Later: a recap of what I did day by day.

I'm Off To See the Wizard

2008-07-29T16:04:00.000-07:00

I'm all packed, sans toothbrush and other things I still need to use in the morning. I have my boarding pass printed and in hand.

Wednedsay I travel to San Francisco to RWA Nationals. My friend Carrie is already there and has scouted the place--she says build in time for riding elevators, 'cause some of the workshops etc. will be on upper floors!

I'm stoked for this trip. Kidlet has hugged me a lot today and helped me pack some and helped more by entertaining herself. She nodded sagely and said, "You're taking a vacation from me." NO no no no, Baby Doll! I replied I'm giving her and Daddy some special bonding time. Five days without Mommy demanding they eat right and chew with their lips closed...

I'll be offline until I get back Sunday night...no, better make that Monday as I'm sure my house will have imploded in my absence and I'll be doing laundry, dishes, and clutter-patrol, kid-bathing, feeding, etc. on Sunday.

Still needed: a book to read on the way down. I know I'll pick up plenty while I'm there LOL.

I'll be shopping The Empire's Edge and promoting Martial Hearts. Here's my elevator pitch:

A noblewoman expects a royal annulment once she solves the conflict endangering the realm's dragons, but the only man who offers help is her arranged husband, a sexy, low-born captain intent on military glory.

Wish me luck!

Hot Off the Presses

2008-07-22T22:08:00.001-07:00

Martial Hearts has a release date: October 15, 2008

Promote promote promote...

Pity Party

2008-07-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

My face is numb.

The left half and some of the right. And my tongue. I'm trying hard not to bite it.

I got fillings about an hour ago--the first in my life.

Confession time. I originally planned to have the tooth-colored composite filling put in the molar.

For three months I thought about it, accepting the fact that my appearance and the way I feel about my teeth has to change. I've been flossing as I should and using flouride rinse since May.

Last week I called the dentist and changed the composite to the normal silver amalgam. The insurance won't pay for composite in back teeth and I didn't want my little family to have troubles buying groceries for my vanity. So. I have a silver filling in the back, visible every time I smile and laugh.

So what.

It's done. And my whole head feels numb. Weird sensation.

Ah, Summer

2008-07-10T21:57:00.000-07:00

I'm still around. Really.

If today will give you a sample of my work day, here's how it went:

6 am. Awake to dog breathing loudly. We call him the choo-choo train. He wanted out. I stumbled to the door, trying to zip my housecoat with little success, and finally just clutched it closed across my nakedness while he did his thing in the lawn.

7:30 Out of bed. Must get Kidlet up. Kiss hubby goodbye as he's off to work.

8 am Kidlet, Shadow and I downstairs having breakfast. TV on. Oswald this morning, I think. Let dog out once more. Brush Kidlet's hair with oil and conditioner, put in bun. Shoo her to bathroom and into swim suit. Assemble necessary items for swim lessons.

8:20 Off to the pool. Need to drive long way around (okay, still a 5 min drive) due to road maintenance on the most convenient road--you know, the one that connects Main Street to the road the grade school is on. They tore this road up last summer too, and now it will be closed until October. Bussing will be fun...

8:30. She's in her lesson at our lovely indoor pool and I find my usual spot behind the kiddy pool, with a good view of her group. My printed manuscript of The Empire's Edge open on my lap, pen in hand. I'm almost halfway through reading from beginning to end, smoothing transitions and adding tiny descriptors. Lieutenant Hendor finally has a face...

10:58 I finally look at the clock and decide I ought to pull her out of the kiddy pool (where she has been since 9) and head home. Get her showered and dressed. Yes, you can have another pretzel.

11:30 turn on laptop, Kidlet parked in front of TV. Something on dinosaurs.

12 pm Make lunch for Hubby and us.

1:00 One last e-mail

1:10 One last e-mail

1:15 Dangit, we NEED to get going--told our friend we'd be over at 1:30. Ain't gonna happen, and it's my fault.

1:45 We're finally suncreened and ready to leave. In the HOT truck and off to cross town.

2:00 show up, 1/2 hour late (oops) at friend's appartment complex, to share pool time. A fun time was had by all.

4:15 Kidlet, we need to go home. Daddy needs us to stop at the store...

4:36 finally drag Kidlet out of the pool and to the HOT truck to change into dry clothes. I love our Yukon. Room enough in the back for me to change, too.

5:00 to Bi-Mart to get prescriptions

5:10 to Albertson's to get corn, potatoes, tomatoes and ice cream.

5:20 HOME. Shadow is much pleased, and runs off to the open lot next door to sniff around.

5:45 Hubby returns from the kill, bacon hard-won.

I'll stop there 'cause I can't remember the order any more, but I spent the time cooking and cleaning and watching Dirty Jobs (a household favorite). Hubby finished eating and disappeared to his cave upstairs and I flipped on the laptop to do some editing work for today. One manuscript formatted (ta-da). Unfortunately, it's now 10:30 and Kidlet is still on the couch awake, watching Baby Borrowers while I type this. I did send her upstairs at 9 pm to brush teeth and get ready for bed. She was still watching Mike Rowe on DVD but I turned that off at 10. I have no excuse for not setting this down and putting her in bed. Do I love my internet more than my child? We can sleep in tomorrow. She's awake enough to have noticed that the same commercial played back to back.

Tomorrow we'll get up and do the same meandering through the day again.

Way Too Early to Camp

2008-07-01T19:53:00.000-07:00

I've been away from tech for a few days. We went camping for the first time this summer, from Sunday 6/29 to this morning.

This year I made reservations. Six weeks ago. Figured Crater Lake would be full the week of July 4th. I was right, but for different reasons than I supposed.

First, this is the sight that greeted us upon arrival in the park:

We sorta forgot that Crater Lake Nat'l Park begins at 5,000ft above sea level.

The campground: Along with being snowed in, they'd had a water main break, so all but three of the loops were closed, cutting the capacity by 2/3. Also, potable water was only available at the camphost building. One restroom (not on our loop) was open all night for over 30 campsites. Good thing we had reservations. Five points if you can spot the picnic table.

Our campsite:

Look carefully at the ground by the snow. Standing water. What happens anywhere you have standing water?

We were eaten alive. Deet does not stopt the little demons.

The good news is that we have really toasty sleeping bags and did not freeze overnight. Still, we ain't going camping again until at least August.

A good time was had by all, despite two sittings in a time-out chair for Kidlet. The lake was almost invisible this morning due to smoke from the California fires. I was much thankful we had a home to come home to, today.

And that bath felt sooooo good.

A Gun Does Not Just "Go off."

2008-06-27T10:11:00.000-07:00

I stole this from Carrie, who probably won't appreciate my rant in her comments, so I'll post my own view of these news stories here.

First from the Chicago Tribune:

[Three-year-old] Julius Rogers … died Wednesday afternoon when a .45-caliber semiautomatic handgun that he was playing with went off in his home on the 1300 block of East Cass Street in Joliet. The boy's mother, Jannice Barefield, was in the kitchen fixing lunch when she heard a pop, Helms said. Barefield rushed into the living room and found her only child lying on the floor with a gunshot wound in the head. She carried the boy out of the house, screaming and asking neighbors for help, Helms said. One of them drove her to nearby Silver Cross Hospital, where the boy was pronounced dead.

The sad part about stories like this is that it is the adult who left the weapon with a round chambered who is at fault. No 3-yr-old on the planet can charge a .45 automatic on their own. (To charge means to bring a round up from the magazine into the firing chamber). That takes more than a little arm strength to do.

Guns are not bad. All handguns in homes with small children are NOT ticking time bombs. Store the weapons properly (out of the reach of children comes to mind...locked in a safe or lockbox), teach children to respect them properly (all weapons are to be treated as always loaded, do not point it at anything you do not wish to destroy, know your target and what is beyond it, and finger off the trigger unless intending to fire) know where your child is and what they are doing, and don't keep an automatic chambered.

When children die due to inattentive or ignorant adults, it is sad. It is not the fault of guns. Guns are not evil; they are mechanical things. Children drown in backyard pools with frightening regularity, yet those are not banned. People die in car accidents hourly, yet we still strap in and rocket down the highway.

Gun manufacture and gun ownership by law-abiding citizens is not the problem. A very few ignoramuses make the news and make the rest of us look bad and feed the fears and prejudices of those who would give our government more power than they ought to have. When the government takes away the right to be armed for self-defense, the crime rate goes up. Look at Chicago--they banned guns and just look at the shining example of their lack of crime. Lookie--no guns, no murder! What? Oh, that didn't work? Oh dear...

Then from the Washington Post:

Thirty-two years after enacting the nation's toughest restrictions on firearms ownership, the D.C. government suddenly faces a new reality, forced by the U.S. Supreme Court to draft regulations that will permit city residents to keep weapons, including handguns, readily available in their homes.

About damn time.

Why is that exhausting?

2008-06-23T11:47:00.000-07:00

I spent the majority of Sunday, from 8am to around 6pm, parked in my favorite armchair with my laptop, editing The Empire's Edge. I got through ALL of the crits I'd collected in the past two years on it and am now ready to print it out to go over again, looking for holes.

Why was that so tiring? I did nothing all day. LOL. I actually looked forward to today's editing work because it wasn't going to be so difficult.

Are you a Good Little Wife?

2008-06-16T13:40:00.000-07:00

I got here via Tam at View from the Porch:

As a 1930s wife, I am
Superior

Take the test!

Take the test--some of the questions are quite funny.

Denied!

2008-06-13T11:33:00.000-07:00

I know we're behind other parts of the country, but today was the first day of summer vacation, and the last weekday we'll get to sleep in, due to swimming lessons etc.

Did I get to enjoy a lie-in this morning?

Hell no.

I awoke first at 6:30 to Hubby honking his nose. Kissed him goodbye and pulled my sleep mask down further and went back to dreamland.

Awoke to the dog gallumphing downstairs and had not had time to sit up before he ralphed on the oriental rug by the front door.

Had just finished cleaning that up when Kidlet got out of bed and said brightly, "Good morning, Mommy!"

It was 7:45

I'd Vote for Him

2008-06-09T09:35:00.000-07:00

Shatner answers some tough questions, Kirk-style.

I Has Cover Art!

2008-06-05T09:14:00.000-07:00

Check it out. My awesome cover art for Martial Hearts arrived in my in-box this morning. Nicola Martinez is the one who sent it to me, so my assumption is that she created said art (Nicola is the awesome artist behind the cover from Sweet Cicely as well). My suggestion for cover art was a silhouette of a martial artist kicking a heart shape...and character info that the Asian hero was gregarious and the "class clown" type:

Does this not rock? I love it. I'd like to know what the chinese characters say, though--don't want to offend anyone who can read it. Awesome art. Author is much pleased.

*Update: from the artist herself: "I know exactly what the symbols say...I think. I got it off the internet, so I'm taking the site's word for it, but the symbols underneath the silhouette say Kenpo Karate Dojo. The ones under the title say Martial Hearts and the ones by your name say Kelly. :)" How cool is that? Nicola, you rock.

Go to the "manuscripts" page of my website for an excerpt http://www.kellymccrady.com/

Kidlet's First Fish

2008-06-01T22:20:00.000-07:00

Rather than sitting on our duffs this weekend, we packed up Kidlet and Shadow and headed across the mountains. Hubby’s BFF (one of two, the Brothers BFF. The younger is Greg and the elder is Ken) no longer has a cat, so we were able to stay overnight at his house. Not paying for a hotel had the benefit of allowing us to afford gas. We drove a total of 401.7 miles this trip, which works out at current prices to $98.83 (Gas at this moment averages $4.14/gal. For comparison, one gallon of milk from our favorite local dairy cost $3.59, earlier today—and that gallon will last two weeks. But I digress).

Greg lives in Redmond, the same town where Kidlet was born six years ago. When we lived there, the population hovered at just over 12,000. Nice, small town. Bend was a close 20 minutes to the south, a city of around 30,000, if you counted the outlying areas.

Holy Moley. Redmond has exploded. Population is now over 24,000. ODOT has build most of a bypass highway around the downtown area. Walmart mutated like a cancer and became a supercenter, three times as big as the original when we lived there. The north end of town is unrecognizable, with the aforementioned Walmart and both a Home Depot and a Lowe’s (both of which can be found 20 min to the south at the north end of Bend as well). Why so many home improvement centers? You know how predator populations increase the year after prey populations grow? Well, now…just add water to any portion of Redmond and a ticky-tacky housing development grows. Good Lord.

The good part to our visit, though seeing Redmond so bloated saddened us, was that our old house has been well taken care of. (We feel compelled to drive past it whenever we’re in town). The current owners have added definite curb appeal with cedar shingles below the eaves and fake brickwork on the lower third of the walls. They stained the front door a natural wood shade and put pretty topiary trees on top of the little deck that Mom and I built by the front door. In the backyard, our struggling baby maple trees have finally grown and looked both stately and as though they actually offer shade. A covered deck off the back patio sports a hot tub, complete with hanging chandelier. They’ve stained the fence all along to match. And my little orange rosebush is still bushy and where I left it. We were happy campers.

The true reason for this weekend’s visit was an extension of Kidlet’s birthday fun. Greg and Ken had the pleasure of teaching Kidlet to fish (Granny gave Kidlet a fishing pole and life vest for her birthday). The five of us traveled up to Lake Billy Chinook this morning and within three casts, she’d caught her first fish. The two brothers traded off who coached Kidlet and who got in some fishing of his own. Hubby fished a bit and I sat in the shade, observing. Hence, the blog post.

Aside from bass, I saw fence lizards, many many blue-tailed skinks, mourning doves, swallows, seagulls, red-tailed hawks, a crow, and two butterflies—an orange and a blue. Oh, and ants. Amid the juniper, sagebrush and bitterbrush, lupines bloomed and Russian Olive trees lent sweet nectar to the air from yellow blossoms. The sun shone hot from ten to noon, but the shade was cool. Shadow bounded from one of us to the other then dug a spot under a shady tree to lie down.

I’d post a photo or two from the trip but we forgot the camera at Greg’s house while we went fishing (d’oh!). So no “First Fish” photos, sorry.

The first one got away but Kidlet kept the second one—a six-inch smallmouth bass she named “Mermaid.” We placed Mermaid in a bucket and transported her to Greg’s ginormous fishtank, where she will be spoiled with live goldfish and nightcrawlers. No, she’ll not be eaten. She is now a pampered pet.

Saturday night (moving backwards, chronologically), we ate at our favorite Mexican restaurant, visited with Ken and Julie, played with guns in the desert. Got rained on. Seriously—stormy wet weather all day Saturday, complete with thunder. Quite pleasant out in the desert, though, as the rain kept the dust down. I did get photos of Kidlet’s first turn firing her pink Cricket .22, little pink cowgirl boots filled with sand because I’m too much of a city girl to know that one wears one’s pantlegs over the outside of boots to keep the dirt out. Whoops.

We had a great trip. A mini-vacation. And Shadow looooved going with us. I look forward to going back and maybe visiting with my Museum friends next time.

Pride and Prejudice

2008-05-25T14:09:00.000-07:00

While flipping channels yesterday (or, skimming through the onscreen guide, a much faster version), I came across the 2005 version of "Pride and Prejudice" starring Kiera Knightly. It was to begin in the next half hour, so I hit "record." Today, I was accorded TV time to myself long enough to watch it.

In freshman year English class, I had to read this insufferable novel for a book report. I was so confused by the ginormous cast of characters and the social mores so removed from what was familiar (with no mentor to turn to who could explain it) that I hated that book. Hated the characters. Hated the setting. Hated the dialogue. Hated the stupid book report project.

Hated Jane Austin.

I can hear your collective gasp from here. "Heresy!" you cry. To this day, I have not read another Jane Austin book nor did I plan to.

With that attitude, I decided to give the story another chance. I figured with a movie version, I would be less likely to need a chart to keep the characters straight and at least the costumes would be fun.

The class distinctions made sense. The social rigidity dictating every move made sense. The title made sense. The desperate mother needing to marry her daughters well. The poor would-be spinster willing to marry Mr. Collins because what other choice had she? The stodgy old Lady coveting Mr. Darcy for her daughter (Ew. Nephew to marry daughter. Ew.) and her telling Elizabeth to go away. I, too, fell in love with Mr. Darcy. (Though the whole "Sixteen Candles" ending on this version made me snort.) I can't wait to try other movie adaptations of Jane Austin novels. I may actually read one.

It only took twenty-three years to give up my pride and my prejudice, and enjoy the story. [For an actual review of the movie by an Austin fan and someone who has studied the genre, go here.]

No Such Luck

2008-05-19T09:09:00.000-07:00

I rolled out of bed at 5:45am to log on and attempt to get an appointment with an agent at RWA Nationals this July.

Nope. All full when I looked at 6am--the earliest I could sign up, as a general member.

Oh well--I was worried that I won't have The Empire's Edge truly ready to pitch to someone official by then, though I will certainly attempt it casually while at the conference.

I fully intend to participate in as many workshops as I can. And I'm sooo excited to finally meet my Circle friends, Patti, Cathleen, and Carrie, in person. Dude. Patti, Cathleen and I have been crit partners online for five years and we've never even spoken on the phone. Carrie joined us in 2006, so gosh that's almost two years ago (this September). Newer member Liz will also be there and I get to meet/gush over Ann Aguirre (gonna track her down and have her sign my copy of Grimspace).

Why am I all excited about this two months in advace? I bought my plane tickets on Friday. It's real now.

Wheee!

Chasing Her Dreams

2008-05-14T21:17:00.000-07:00

Author Stacey Coverstone is my guest today. She has two debut works back to back this month. The main one I am promoting is a lovely short ghost story, Chasing Her Dreams, available May 21 from The Wild Rose Press.

DEVIN FULLER has dreamt for weeks of the mysterious woman in white beckoning to her from atop the island lighthouse. On the anniversary of her grandmother’s death, Devin hires local fisherman KIPP SULLIVAN to ferry her across the bay to Monhegan Island during a storm.

When it appears that the lighthouse, an old oil painting, and two spirits from beyond are all pieces of a puzzle meant to bring Devin together with this man, she must ask herself: Is this fate? Or is she simply chasing her dreams?

KM: Stacey, welcome to my blog.

SC: Thank you for having me, Kelly.

KM: First, I want to ask you about the setting of Chasing Her Dreams. Tell us why you chose the Monhegan Lighthouse.

SC: My mom and I visited Monhegan Island a few years ago and we trekked up this steep hill in 100-degree weather to get to the lighthouse. It was worth it because the view from the top was magnificent. The whole island is enchanting and a romantic kind of place, so the lighthouse, cemetery, rocky cliffs and crashing waves just put my imagination into overdrive.

KM: Are any characters inspired by people you’ve met?

SC: Not in this story. However, I went to school with a guy named Kipp. He and my character don’t resemble each other at all, but I thought the name fit for my fisherman. I like to give my characters names of people I know. I think my family and friends enjoy it, even if the character with their name happens to be a bad guy! J

KM: Why a ghost story?

SC: I’ve always loved ghost stories, and I felt the combination of all the elements mentioned above fit together perfectly.

KM: Do you often find inspiration for your fiction in the places you visit?

SC: Yes. I’m very inspired when I travel, which I do as often as possible. I especially love the west, so most of my stories are set there. I write both contemporary westerns and stories set in the Old West. In fact, I’m flying out to New Mexico in June to do some research for a historical western that’s in progress.

KM: Like most authors, I’m sure you’ve been writing a long time and have notebooks full of stories that may never be polished for publication. What was the plot of the first story you ever wrote?

SC: The first story I ever wrote was actually a screenplay entitled “Shotgun Weddin’.” You can probably guess the plot by the title. I was twelve when I wrote it, and I still have the manuscript in my big ole fat notebook full of unpublished stories. The neighbor kids and I were always putting on plays on my front porch in the summertime, and I was the writer, director, producer, set designer and an actor! The second story I wrote was called “The Witch on Raven Lane.” My inspiration was an elderly lady who lived in a spooky run-down house on my paper route. Later, as an adult, I polished that story up and won a third place award in a regional writing contest.

KM: Have you found that having work out there on the “published” lists changes how you view the process of writing?

I definitely enjoy the process more, now that I’m published! Seriously, I want to offer an enjoyable romance containing memorable characters, an exciting plot, and a fantastic setting with each story I write so my readers will want to pick up the next book. I’ve learned that the writing process is a continuing one—always learning the craft. It’s hard work, but very satisfying, particularly when you type THE END on another manuscript.

KM: What is one pet peeve you have within stories you read?

SC: When the sexual tension and bickering between the hero and heroine drags on and on and on...I mean, please! Let’s get to the kissin’ and huggin’ and romance already.J

KM: Tell us a little about your novel, Lucky in Love.

SC: Lucky in Love is a contemporary romance set in Tularosa, New Mexico (a real town, by the way).

Jordan Mackenzie has left Colorado and her slug of a boyfriend for Tularosa, New Mexico, where she claims the Lucky Seven Ranch-- inherited from an aunt she met only once in her life.

Upon arrival, Jordan meets two local men--outgoing, sexy contractor, Cole Roberts, who puts designs on both her and her house, and rugged rancher and neighbor, Wyatt Brannigan, who immediately involves himself in Jordan's life and does his best to keep her out of trouble.

That trouble comes in the form of Addison Stillwell--a powerful land baron who will stop at nothing to get Jordan's ranch--and the two nefarious cowboys who work for him.

As she settles into the ranching way of life, she learns what it takes to manage a herd of rescued horses, deals with an ornery goat, and discovers a family secret.

While fighting for her land and her life, Jordan realizes who it is that holds the key to her heart, but will she take a chance at becoming Lucky in Love? Read my new novel to find out.

I also invite you to visit my website: http://www.staceycoverstone.com/

KM: Thank you for coming by!

SC: Thanks so much for interviewing me, Kelly. It was fun, and I enjoy your blog.

Stacey Coverstone’s debut novel, Lucky in Love, is out May 15 from Asylett Press in e-format and should be available in print this June (www.asylett.com)

Chasing Her Dreams is a Faery Rosette available in e-format May 21 from The Wild Rose Press (www.thewildrosepress.com)

My Mother's Day

2008-05-12T09:50:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day was fun, and shocking, and lots of hard work, and fun...

Fun began with waking first, sneaking downstairs and having an hour to myself in silence, with my laptop and International Coffee.

Kidlet wandered downstairs at around 9am, muzzy-headed but aware enough to wish me Happy Mother's Day. She had Cheerios and juice while I played on my computer.

After hubby awoke and I ascended the stairs to discuss the day's plan with him, Kidlet said she had a surprise in store and not to come downstairs. When I did, she was again ensconced in front of the TV with her cereal. No change. I said, "You had a surpise for me?"

She pointed to the kitchen. "I made you Cheerios and milk, Mommy." She was so happy and proud, I praised her and choked them down with a smile. I'd already eaten breakfast and was rather full, but I couldn't disappoint her. She made me breakfast.

The family got dressed and we headed out the door to Costco to get a few things for the freezer and cupboards. $400 later, hubby and I put the groceries in the car, gasping for breath. A year ago, that stuff might have cost $200. Egads. And we only bought food, not "stuff." Well, the gov'ment wanted us to put our kicker checks back into the economy...we didn't anticipate it happening so fast.

After we got home and put the stuff away, Kidlet and I changed clothes and hauled garden tools out to the backyard, where on Saturday hubby had cut a hole out of the lawn in the only sunny stretch of the yard. I upended a bag of compost onto the icky clay "soil" and with my favorite tool--my Pulaski--I tilled the area by hand, removing rocks and churning the clay and compost together to make a vegetable garden. Final size is a rectangle about 12 x 6 or so.

Kidlet helped me pluck worms out of harm's way (as an aside, the blue pot upside-down in the photo is where she stored them...it has a false bottom and they became stuck inside and wouldn't come out), and drop seeds into the rows I hoed into the now passable soil. We have six rows of corn (please don't let the racoons get wind of this) and a mound of pumpkins. We made labels out of popsicle sticks. Kidlet insisted on having one corner of the garden reserved for mudpies. She wrote a label for it and outlined it with the rocks I'd dug up. Way cute.

Tomato seeds and watermelon seeds are in the house on windowsills to germinate before we move them outside. I'm thinking of puting other veggies in pots on the deck this summer. Need more dirt first. The melons will go out front in the big flowerbed because that is the only spot on our property that gets full sun all day.

Dude. Tired me. Convinced Kidlet to watch TV for 30 min and let Mommy soak in the big tub alone before she could pounce on me to play in the deep water. She joined me and we played for another half hour. Hubby had promised me delivered food, so we ordered pizza after our bath. More computer time for me! I called my mother while we waited for the pizza.

A nice Mother's Day.

***

Funny for you: go here for Comma Sutra (funny T-shirt)

Lost Generation

2008-05-07T11:43:00.000-07:00

AARP put on a contest for 20 Yr olds entitled "U@50" this was the 2nd place winner. Absolutely Amazing.