A Review

I have to say, by and large, that I’ve been pretty disappointed in the Blaze line this year. Six books come out each month, that’s 36 books this year so far, and I can count on one hand (maybe) the ones that I’ve actually liked. One, of course, was The Shalvis’ Room Service; I’m not going to mention the other two. But I will tell you, today and tomorrow about the last two that I’ve read. They show promise for the line this month and next. I’m going to review them in alphabetical order, which means that Closer … by Jo Leigh is first.

I’ll start by saying that I loved this book. In fact, I just finished reading it a few minutes ago. It’s a July release and I urge you to go to eharlequin.com and pre-order it now.

This is the first in a series about a group of people who know something they shouldn’t, who are running for their lives while trying to get those lives back. They live “just below the surface” of society, shifting from identity to identity, one step ahead of the enemy. They can only rely on each other, they can’t make friends or fall in love – it isn’t an option. Closer … is the story of Christie Pratchett whose brother Nate had been one of those people and had died because of it. Christie has a stalker who has effectively shut down her life; taken away her job, her friends, and isolating her from everything that she knew. Out of desperation she dialed a number on the back of a picture, a number that her brother had told her to call if she ever needed help. That help turned out to be ex-Delta Force member Boone Ferguson, a friend of her brother’s, who sets out to get Christie back everything that she lost. Boone can’t help but become more involved than he should, to care for Christie far beyond what is required to protect her. And as it becomes more evident that this stalker is more dangerous than imagined, falling in love can become more a liability than blessing, a distraction that could get them both killed.

If I were to put this on an Amazon scale of stars – it would get 5. I loved both Christie and Boone. The chemistry between them is palpable, the tension not only sexual but heightened by the danger surrounding them. The storyline is believable, engrossing and kept me totally absorbed in the story. Once again, I highly recommend this book.

I was also going to post the beautiful cover, but blogger isn't letting me. In fact, I haven't been able to post any pictures since their software problem last week. And if the blogger help page is any indication, I'm not the only one.

Oh, and the winners of Let's Pretend are Dennie and Trace. I need your addresses. I have more new book giveaways coming up.

And what the heck. Whenever an author sends me a copy of their book, I still buy one - so I have a copy of Closer ... on order. If you want it, just tell me and I'll draw a name Tuesday night.

Goodnight, Goodbye

A father put his three year old daughter to bed, told her a story and listened to her prayers - which she ended by saying "God bless Mommy, God bless Daddy, God bless Grandma, and good-bye Grandpa."

The father said, "Why did you say good-bye to Grandpa?"

The little girl said, "I don't know, Daddy, it just seemed like the thing to do."

The next day Grandpa died. The father thought it was a strange coincidence.

A few months later the father put the girl to bed and listened to her prayers, which went like this -- "God bless Mommy, God bless Daddy, and good-bye Grandma."

The next day the grandmother died. My goodness, thought the father, this kid is in contact with the other side. Several weeks later when the girl was going to bed the Dad heard her say, "God bless Mommy and good-bye Daddy."

He practically went into shock. He couldn't sleep all night and got up at the crack of dawn to go to his office. He was nervous as a cat all day, had lunch sent in and watched the clock. He figured if he could get by until midnight he would be OK. He felt safe in the office, so instead of going home at the end of the day he stayed there, drinking coffee, looking at his watch and jumping at every sound. Finally midnight arrived, he breathed a sigh of relief and went home.

When he got home his wife said, "I've never seen you work so late, what's the matter?" He said, "I don't want to talk about it, I've just spent the worst day of my life."

She said, "You think you had a bad day, you'll never believe what happened to me. This morning the mailman dropped dead on our porch."

And don't forget - today is the last day to enter to win a copy of Raine Weaver's book Let's Pretend. You have until 9:00 p.m. Central. See Friday's post for details.

Another Saturday

Found this article on one of my email subscriptions and thought it was interesting. I'm off to work today - at least my co-worker is back from his THREE WEEK vacation. He'd better have enjoyed himself, that's all I can say. Have a great Saturday everyone, "talk" to ya later. And don't forget the contest on yesterday's blog. You can answer on that blog - and come back Monday to find out who our lucky winners are.

A Feline Example on Courage
By Sheryl Joy Olano

Fangs. Killer claws. Hisses, grrrs...and later, yelps. Who is not familiar with cat-dog combats? It's a "hair-raising" party of limbs and tails and yes, the loser sheds most of the fur- mostly, the cat. It was night time and I was in the living room reading a tear-jerker when I heard a throaty, prolonged and wavering wail. Instantly I dropped the book and rushed to the door with one thought in mind - my cat was under attack. The thought brought an ugly picture to my head. I feared an on-the-prowl Sparky or a hyperactive Caesar or worse, the Big Dogs on the Block (BDOB a.k.a. askal) was circling my Khufu in anticipation of tearing her apart. So you could just imagine the shock on my face when I caught Khufu chasing Sparky, a dog two times her size. A dog. My cat just chased a dog. I thought it only happens on TV. "You were supposed to be helpless," I scolded Khufu but actually I was torn between being proud of the cat and being afraid of it as it sat on its hind, licking its paws...Sparky completely forgotten. But then my memory bank had retrieved from its archives a plausible explanation about what had transpired in the scene of crime. Said dog seemed to have a phobia with cats for once upon a time it received a blow from a cat's paw on the head. So I thought my cat was just plain lucky. Sparky would avert from anything that meows. But then another weird night came and dogs were running for their tails. The militant cat had struck again. Dogs. Not one, but two. Dogs- definitely not puppies. One was Caesar and the other was a BDOB- both bigger than Sparky. I was impressed. Perhaps it would happen again, perhaps not. But I wouldn't want my feline friend to make it a hobby or she'll drive all the dogs away. Here's the norm: cats are to be chased by dogs. The poor cat must have gotten tired of running for her life that she decided to make a brave yet an unthinkable move to alter cat life in our dog-infested neighborhood. It seems she has gathered up her tattered pride and charge, come what may, to make a statement in the name of the feline race. The statement would be: We cats may be soft, but we are not fragile. How easy it is for us to run away from our fears or to give in to the unfairness of the bullies to avert the hassles and side effects of battle, having known not the possible victories we could achieve...dreams stay as mere dreams. But fear is fear. If only we could just throw it out of the window and have it locked out from our minds. But fear is a part of our existence. It is a psychological battle, a tug-of-war between yes and no. For me, it is not something we bulldoze in a day. I remember how my cat used to sacrifice her food to the dogs and be rooted indoors. It took her time to gain the courage to go against the norm we thought could never be changed. Perhaps the passport to courage is to be sure of who we are, to believe, to act big no matter how small, like the cat that fought for its claim of territory and demand for respect with a personlity bigger than a dog. We all have our own dogs to chase to turn our "impossible" into a badge we can proudly wear. As for me, I'm not done with mine yet.

Spam I Am .... And a Contest Too

Oh no! I’ve become my own running-joke. Three times this week I, Queen of Spamarama, have been accused of being spam. The gall. I’m aghast. Aghast I say. Flabbergasted to say the least. Me. Spam. I am Spam. Spam I am. It’s ludicrous – and I absolutely love it. Really. I think it’s hysterical. And in light of my new stature, here’s today’s spamarama – with a contest at the end.

Hi, paraffin paper (hello Saran Wrap)
How does this sound (Can you hear me now?)
test Leo (DeCaprio? Does he need testing? Okay.)
contentious (Hey, you trying to start an argument or something?)
Your mother has always dreamed of having sweet grandkids (too bad, she’s stuck with the jerks she has now)
Lower payments, giblet-checked (Chicken liver)
Your neighbors have lost their alarm clock (And I’ve lost my mind; we’re even)
Citation recognized from Detective Paul Edwardsd (Don’t give me a citation. Give it to whoever keeps taking those alarm clocks)
Felonious movements noted (No sh*t Sherlock)
Just about time (No, it’s about alarm clocks)
Since the early childhood I was called an ugly duckling. When I became a teenager … (You were still ugly)
One hot chick I knew used to take a ruler for every new date. (Who? Henry VIII ?)
Lokdxmgld xbhbixn elzuq nzhe dgoirnn mhcckkrw! (Watch it! We don’t use that kind of language around here.)
Your personal form inadequate. (I beg your pardon. You leave my personal form alone)
Try Penis Enlarge Patch before risking with vacuum pump method (OUCH!)


Contest? Did I say contest? Remember all of those nice remarks people said about Raine Weaver’s new book Let’s Pretend (June 5)? Wanna chance to win a copy? I have two, count them two, pristine copies of said book for two lucky winners. All you have to do is answer this question. When you were a child, what did you like to pretend to be? I’ll pick two names on Sunday night.

EDIT: Siobhan is going through a health crisis at the moment. Please keep her in your thoughts and, if you're the praying sort, say some prayers.

Whatcha Readin'?

(Blogspeak for - it's Thursday and I have nothing to blog about)

Okay folks, line 'em up. I want to know what you've just finished reading, what you're reading now and what's on the bedstand waiting. And, what are you waiting for eagerly? Ooooh, Oooooh, me first!

I just finished Tall, Tanned & Texan by Kimberly Raye and I enjoyed it.
I'm reading The Player by Rhonda Nelson and it is very good. (review on it later)
What's up next? Closer ... by Jo Leigh; Hidden Obsession by Joanne Rock; Let's Pretend by Raine Weaver (as soon as my copy gets here - I already have the copies to give away)
Waiting? Sleeping with Fear by Kay Hooper (July 18) and Bad Boys Southern Style which has a story by Jill something or other (also July). Of course, I have a lot of books pre-ordered so I don't remember what's up next. Makes opening packages from Amazon a lot of fun.

So, what about you?

As the Scarecrow Flies

Or, I've Lost My Brain and I Can't Get Up

Really. I know that's hard to believe, but I've lost it. I know it's in one of these boxes here somewhere. I could have sworn I put it in one of the boxes marked "study" but I can't find it. I hope nobody took it literally and sent it to the Mayo clinic. If so, I expect to have it returned any day now with a label that says "Empty Box". I have been more forgetful, more absentminded, more scatterbrained (think I can come up with any other synonyms?) lately than I have in a long time. It's really embarrassing. Take my TV remote (actually, please don't - I've looked too long and hard for it). When Bebo moved in, for some reason known only to the move-in elves, we decided that she would bring her TV and I'd put the one in my bedroom out in the garage. So there it sat for four and 1/2 months gathering dust. My cousin's husband helped Bebo move some stuff out on May 19th and moved the TV back in to the bedroom for me. I didn't hook it up until the evening of the 21st (the date is important). But I couldn't find the remote. Nor the cable that hooked the VCR to the TV. The last wasn't a major problem as we rarely used the VCR in mom's room, so I stole that cable. We'll skip the problems of channel surfing without a remote, or the fact that my VCR for some unknown reason likes to bring up the TV menu screen periodically whenever I hit fast forward - and the only way to get it off is by pushing a button on the ... you got it, remote. Had to get up and turn the TV off and then on again. Anyhoo - When I'd go out through the garage, I'd check a box or two, nothing but books. Susie helped bring in the boxes from the garage on Saturday. That night I frantically went through them (oh, and I might add that the cable was in a basket on the cedar chest in the living room the entire time). Frustrated, I walk through the bedroom towards the door and just happened to look up at my bookcase. The top two shelves were not emptied for Bebo's stay - in other words, those things were there the entire time including the "O'Connell" mug I got at the Irish festival one year. There was something black poking out of it. I looked closer ... yeah, it was the remote. It had been there the entire time. Every day. Every night when I would cuss at the TV. Every freakin' moment.

I sit here at my desk shuffling papers around, some read "Go back to Loreth's to read excerpt" (I did); another says "Go back to Marty's blog" or "Jason's blog" ... um, I haven't. Took a carload of cans out to Walmart today for recycling. Brought them back with me too. While there I couldn't find my pen to write the check. After the clerk lent me hers I noticed that mine was still sticking out of the pocket of my t-shirt where I had put it after checking my list. Twice. Which reminds me. Yesterday was my nephew's birthday. He's 16 now. I was supposed to "send" him some birthday money by transferring it from mom's account to my brother's. I'll just write myself a note. Right here, next to the one that says "buy cat food". I guess I'll be heading back out tomorrow.

So, if I haven't been by in a little while, there's probably a note on my desk ...

D-Day

June 6, 1944, also known as The Normandy Invasion or Operation Overlord. We more commonly refer to it as D-Day, when almost 3 million allied troops, led by the United States, Britain, Canada and France, landed on the beaches of German-occupied France. It still remains the largest seaborne invasion in history. Beginning the evening of June 5 with night-time paratrooper and glider landings, the most famous landing occurred on June 6 where many soldiers didn't even make it to shore, shot in the water while they waded to the beach. Transports weighted down in the water almost capsized. In fact, this "invasion" probably shouldn't have even succeeded, if not for a series of snafus on the part of the Germans. Yeah, you could say that the opening scenes of Saving Private Ryan came pretty close to reality. I always watch the National Memorial Day concert from Washington D.C., the actor Charles Durning is there every year and I've often heard him talk about his experience that day - you can still see the pain in his eyes, the haunting images of horror on his face. The battles waged for more than 2 months - and concluded with the liberation of France and the fall of the Falaise Pocket. It was a multi-national force, with the participation of other countries like Australia, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Greece, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway and Poland. 53,700 allied troops dead, 18,000 missing and 155,000 wounded. The beaches were littered with dead bodies - Utah, Omaha, Juno - just a few of the names that come to mind whenever I think of D-Day. My father wasn't part of this first unit, he came in on the 3rd wave which came up the boot of Italy. He talked about the ruins of Italy and of later marching through the Arc de Triomphe. And every time you asked him about it, he always said "I didn't do anything." I'll be flying my flag today, not only in remembrance of those men, American and foreign, who died that day, but for the men, like my father who "didn't do anything".

Author, Author

We have another book sale in our midst. Denise Belinda McDonald (Dennie to us) has sold her book The Inn Crowd to Samhain. Yay Dennie.

Also, her book Deadly Mistake is due out in ebook format September 19, 2006, with a print edition out around December 19, 2006 (for those without e-readers, like me). I'll have more about it around publishing time.

Raine Weaver's book Let's Pretend is now available in print!

The art of subtle seduction can be a light-hearted game-or a deadly dance.
Veronica Peale is playing a game.
Her best friend Kayla has decided to "loan" Ronnie her newest boy-toy, all in an effort to make her boss, Paul Lang, insanely jealous. Veronica reluctantly agrees to pretend that she's having a torrid love affair with Brant Coleman in order to entice the man she really wants.
At least, she thinks he's the man she really wants…
Brant Coleman is also playing a game. He is, in reality, an insurance investigator, trying to discover why Ronnie is in possession of a priceless pair of antique earrings, reported stolen by one of the wealthiest families in Cleveland, Ohio. It is his job to verify that they are the stolen earrings and, if possible, to recover them. And if he has to pretend to be Kayla's tool and Veronica's lover to get what he wants, so be it.
At least, he thinks he's pretending to be in love with her…

Let's Pretend by Raine Weaver
My Bookstore and More
Amazon.com

I've ordered two of these - one to keep and one to give away. When they arrive I'll do something (probably just a simple "tell me you want it" draw) for the giveaway. This has gotten excellent reviews and I've been waiting to read it.

This and That

Yay Lis - her MS Vegas Whisperer finalled in the query contest over at Romance Divas. Thank you for doing this Lis so I would have something to blog about. *gg*

Keep Raine in your thoughts - her mother has been admitted to the hospital.

Oh, and we're finally done with the painting, so I'll be spending Sunday continuing to put things back together.

That's it. I'm so full of information it's obscene, aren't I?

So I'll leave you with this:

Why is it called tourist season if we can't shoot at them?
Why is the alphabet in that order? Is it because of that song?
Where are we going? And what's with this handbasket?
If most car accidents occur within five miles of home, why doesn't everyone just move 10 miles away?
How do I set my laser printer on stun?
If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do the rest have to drown too?
If the #2 pencil is the most popular, why is it still #2?
Is there another word for synonym?
One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.
If Fed Ex and UPS were to merge, would they call it Fed UP?
If it's true that we are here to help others, then what exactly are the others here for?
You never really learn to swear until you learn to drive.
If a cow laughed, would milk come out her nose?
Whatever happened to preparations A through G?
If olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil come from?
If people from Poland are called Poles, why aren't people from Holland called Holes?
Why do we say something is out of whack? What's a whack?
Why isn't 11 pronounced onety one?

Waxing Nostalgic

I was outside the other day and saw some kids playing baseball in their yards down the street. It took me back a few years as I remembered that these two particular houses were not here when we moved to the neighborhood in 1969 (they were built somewhere between 1975 and 79). Back then, they were the only two vacant lots on the block, and being side by side was an excellent place to play ball. I used to watch my two brothers and their friends play there almost every day. Kind of sad now, since Howard is gone and David has been disabled by strokes. But in my memories they were young and vigor, laughing and enjoying America's pasttime. I stood and watched for quite a while. And then this morning as I was leaving for the store I saw two young boys on their bikes in the middle of the street, obviously poised for a race. Yes, there was another kid further on down the block with a makeshift flag - one, two, three, go! I smiled. When I was there age I had this humongo bike, a boys pedal brake in the land of 3 speeds and banana seats. It was bigger than me, but I loved it. But here's the funny part - guys my brother's ages would come up and borrow it for races because it was faster than those fancy glow-in-the-dark purple speedsters. I used to sit on the curb and watch them race my bike down this very street. I finally received one of those fancy bikes for Christmas, the old one relegated to charity. I couldn't get the hang of the hand brakes (come to find out, my hands/wrists were too weak to squeeze them), so my bike riding days came to a close. It's funny how, more and more, things happen to bring back memories like these. What about you? Has anything touched off moments of nostalgia for you?

Posting early tonight. I'm tired, I'm going to try to go to bed a bit early. See you after work.

Coming to You in Spamarama Vision

Wonderful Spam from the mind of an exhausted author.

The time is right to build a strong position (And my position is that you are scum)
Because you are my friend (No, you're just scum anyway)
Your neighbors lost their alarm clock (one, two, three ... all together now: we.don't.care.)
Incrimination authorized from Officer Carmelo Wiley (you're authorized to incriminate me? The charges won't stick. I didn't touch their freakin' alarm clock)
Neighborhood property market rating is rising. (Wait until they hear about the rash of alarm clock thefts)
I've found (What? The alarm clock? Better get it to Officer Wiley, he's trying to incriminate me.)
Your health, oil paint (We're safe - we used a lot of latex.)
With Viagara Soft Tabs you can crack nuts with your penis (Honey, I don't go that way. You might ... oh never mind)
Don't be inadequate anymore! (Not if I can crack nuts with my penis)
Felonious Tasks Documented (Who? Mine or Officer Wiley)
Your loan ... deion circuit breaker (No thank you ... Patti Power Strip)
You can see you are getting older: gray hair, wrinkles on your forehead, glasses (If I take my glasses off I can't see anything - so there!)
Listen to the voice of your penis. He is asking to get Penis Enlarge Patch. (I listened - he said "I'm in the wrong body.")
This is what I heard (If your penis is talking to you, I don't want to know about it.)


Because I know that the only reason you dropped by today was to find out the winner of Aussie Rules, here goes. Between Jeanne and I (waving at Jeanne - Paris or Bust will be in the mail today) we managed to get the loooooong list down to (and I've added middle names and surnames to some of these) Emma Sue Waggoner, Stella Mae Waggoner, Olivia Newsom, and Hannah Voss. I kept rolling them around in my head, trying different scenarious, inflections, etc. I kept coming back to Olivia. But I couldn't find anything ugly about it. No reason for it to bother her (also with Hannah). So I kept at it, but still my mind wanted Olivia. So I'll have to think of some other name for Scott to call her that would irritate her, sort of like Jordan always referring to Skye as comp girl (short for computer girl). Scott and Olivia sound good together too. So the winner is Loreth. Email me your snailmail and I'll get Aussie Rules to you. You'll really enjoy it. And to everyone else - thank you. There were so many good names. I'll tell you the final list of 10 - yes, that's as far down as we culled it - so honorable mention (but no prize except for my undying gratitude) goes to: (previously listed 4 above) Prue, Lily, Ruthanne, Claire, Chelsea, and Sarah. There's another giveaway for Sasha White's new book Bound coming up - she is a wonderful erotica writer and this is her first ST in print (although I highly recommend Gypsy Heart, an ebook).

I've Got it Covered

Have you ever bought a book just because you liked the cover? I definitely have. Yeah, that one over there. I bought this in January 2005 - I haven't read it yet, just sat it on my desk for inspiration. Okay, I lied, I did read the love scenes. What do you think of those abs? I'm a little curious about the face, but I can fantasize that in. It wasn't just the body - although that's a big part of it - it's the whole attitude.

But it's not just the look that has pulled me in - I've been caught in the title trick too. What about you? Have you ever bought a book just because you liked the title?



I don't have the cover here, but I would love to read the book I Miss My Man, but My Aim is Getting Better. I keep meaning to look that one up and see who wrote it, but always forget.
Sharyn McCrumb has some great titles too. I've read
PMS Outlaws and the book on the right.
In fact, If I'd Killed Him When I Met Him ...
was the first of her mysteries I'd read. And I bought it solely on the title.


I've been looking for this one too. I just love the title.

Titles and covers have been the impetus of many a purchase, some good, other's not. In fact, I've found more bombs just by buying a book on title or cover impulse.





Is it just me or are the Blaze covers getting hotter?


That's all for today - it's Thursday, what did you expect ... Shakespeare? If you want funny, then go see Jill, Donna, or Daisy. But make sure you come back for Spamarama Friday AND the winner of the copy of Aussie Rules. You have until 9:00 p.m. (central) Thursday night to get your entries in. Look at Tuesday's post for details.

Shameless Promotion Time

A whisper away from thirty, gorgeous Tess Hamilton has been the tennis world's top title holder and celebrity since she won her first championship at fifteen. Now the headline-making party girl is getting her first taste of mortality -- and bankruptcy -- thanks to new teenage phenom Gabrielle Fontaine. But it's Gaby's cool, calm, and all-too-collected brother and manager, Max, who really has Tess seeing double. He's the first man she can't seem to seduce -- or intimidate. It appears Tess is truly off her game, until a real-life, modern-day fairy godmother steps in....
Aurora Favreaux, a founder of Glass Slipper Inc. and fold family friend, has a plan to get Tess back on her stilettos, and it includes an unlikely meeting between Tess, Max, and Gaby, at Glass Slipper's new London headquarters -- just in time for Wimbledon. It seems that Tess is going to hit the courtst in a whole new way, to prove to the world -- and herself -- that a woman with the heart of a champion can ace life and love -- even after the big 3-0....





I haven't read this book, but I really love Donna's writing, so am planning to pick it up. You can buy it at borders.com

Don't forget about our Aussie Rules Contest. Look at yesterday's post for details. You can enter as many times as you like. I'll announce the winner on Friday. Please, please pass this on - I need as much imput as possible. Thanks.

Aussie Rules

I have to admit that when I first began reading this book it reminded me of one Jill's earlier works Love is in the Air from the Paris or Bust anthology, as they both take place in an airport with a spunky heroine and quick-witted hero, but I was soon assured that this was not a re-hash but a great story all on its own. Bo Black, the sexiest hero to come along, arrives at the North Beach Airport looking for what he believes is rightfully his. Melanie Anderson, aka Mel, is the owner of Anderson Air and the custodian of not only the airport, but the caretaker of the group of people who work there. She believes that the airport belongs to Sally, the woman that took her under her wing and provided her with the unconditional love that she so sorely lacked in her home life. She also believes that Bo is a con artist just like his father and she is very suspicious of his motives for returning to town. Bo believes that Sally was the swindler and that her actions led to his dad's death. He has the deed to the airfield and intends to take it over. He didn't count on Mel and her unflinching loyalty to Sally and the people around her. Together they work to find the truth and along the way they fall in love. Aussie Rules is a wonderful book full of humor and romance. It's the kind of work that I have come to expect from Jill and she does not disappoint. Once again she gives us secondary characters and plotlines that enhances the main story instead of detracts, as happens in a lot of romances. It's an enjoyable journey down the rocky road to love - get ready for a bumpy ride. If you want a good romantic comedy, then this is the book for you. Highly recommended.

So, would you like to win a copy of Aussie Rules? I have the ARC and I'm very partial to keeping them - they're just more special to me. But I also like to support the author, so I also buy the print copy. So what to do with the nice, pristine book that arrived the other day? Give it to one of you, of course. Now, I had planned to do a "get acquainted with Jill" quiz, but then I realized that I dilemma that you can help me out with. You know I'm working on this anthology, and I have names for all of my characters except for one. The heroine for my Josh Holloway character - Scott. When these characters were first created years ago, the books were to be written by Bebo and myself. Scott's story was to be written by Bebo and she had picked out the name Kate for her heroine. Now it's my story, and I can't go with that name. Kate is short of Katherine, and my sister's name is Catherine - some of you already know my problem with my sister, so that name is a no-go. I need a name for an up-tight photographer who has been burned by a past relationship. I don't have a last name for her either, but that's no big deal now. I want to at least mention all of the characters names in the first book, so I really need this now. And this might be the next book in the series, and since I'm on page 48 of what should be about 100 pages, I'm not far from finishing the first one.

What do you do? Give me names. On Friday I'll pick the one that I like the best and that person gets this copy of Aussie Rules. Come on, I know you can do this.

Memorial Day

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the hills,from the lake,From the skies.
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

Go to sleep, peaceful sleep.
May the soldier or sailor,God keep.
On the land or the deep, Safe in sleep.

Love, good night, Must thou go,
When the day,And the night Need thee so?
All is well.Speedeth all To their rest.

Fades the light; And afar
Goeth day,And the stars Shineth bright,
Fare thee well; Day has gone,
Night is on.

Thanks and praise, For our days,
'Neath the sun,Neath the stars,'Neath the sky,
As we go, This we know, God is nigh.

While there are no words to Taps per se, those given above are likely the most common.
There is a poignant myth about the origin of Taps that is circulating about the Internet. The true story is that in July 1862, after the Seven Days battles at Harrison's Landing (near Richmond), Virginia, the wounded Commander of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, V Army Corps, Army of the Potomac, General Daniel Butterfield reworked, with his bugler Oliver Wilcox Norton, another bugle call, "Scott Tattoo," to create Taps. He thought that the regular call for Lights Out was too formal. The custom, thus originated, was taken up throughout the Army of the Potomac and finally confirmed by orders." Soon other Union units began using Taps, and even a few Confederate units began using it as well. After the war, Taps became an official bugle call. Col. James A. Moss, in his Officer's Manual first published in 1911, gives an account of the initial use of Taps at a military funeral:
"During the Peninsular Campaign in 1862, a soldier of Tidball's Battery A of the 2nd Artillery was buried at a time when the battery occupied an advanced position concealed in the woods. It was unsafe to fire the customary three volleys over the grave, on account of the proximity of the enemy, and it occurred to Capt. Tidball that the sounding of Taps would be the most appropriate ceremony that could be substituted."

From The Military Taps

Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. The first state to officially recognize the holiday was New York in 1873. By 1890 it was recognized by all of the northern states. The South refused to acknowledge the day, honoring their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every State on the last Monday in May (passed by Congress with the National Holiday Act of 1971 (P.L. 90 - 363) to ensure a three day weekend for Federal holidays), though several southern states have an additional separate day for honoring the Confederate war dead: January 19 in Texas, April 26 in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Mississippi; May 10 in South Carolina; and June 3 (Jefferson Davis' birthday) in Louisiana and Tennessee.

Memorial Day History

And the winners of this month draw are Laurie and Carol. Email me your snailmail address and I'll get those off to you.

Happy Birthday Joanie

This is my cousin Joan with my mother. Joanie lurks (wave at Joan). She and mother are more closely related than she and I. They are practically first cousins. Huh? Okay, this gets a little complicated so pay close attention. Joanie's dad and my mother's father were first cousins. Joan's dad was 54 when she was born - hence the huge age gap (Joan is the same age as my brother Howard). Anyway, Joan's father's name was James and my grandfather's name was John (this is important - so I don't have to keep saying her father, my grandfather, etc.). James' mother was Margaret O'Connell Hanlon and his father was James Hanlon. Margaret had a brother named Thomas O'Connell - who, coincidently was John's father. James Hanlon had a sister named Ellen Hanlon O'Connell who was John' s mother. Confused now? Brother and sister James and Ellen Hanlon married brother and sister Margaret and Thomas O'Connell. In the world of biology, this would have made James and John (the aforementioned father of Joan and father of my mother) more like brothers than first cousins. So if you follow that line of thinking, that makes mom and Joan more like first cousins than first cousins once removed. Are we thoroughly confused now? Good - I like to keep you that way so that you won't notice that I'm not actually the Queen of this blog. Joanie and I found each other through genealogy research - her's. I'm not that diligent. She was looking for the Hanlon's with no idea that her grandmother and my gr-grandfather (O'Connell's) were brother and sister too. It has sure made the research a lot easier since she is now researching all of my Irish line without me having to lift a finger (waving more frantically at Joan and including kisses this time). It is really a kind of tragic story - my grandfather John O'Connell was Irish Catholic. He fell in love with my grandmother Daisy who was not only Protestant but of more Scottish ancestry than anything else. Recipe for disinheritance right there - and he was ostracized from most of the family. The Hanlon's never spoke to him again, while only his siblings kept in contact on the O'Connell side. Part of that could be because grandma's sister Golda married grandpa's brother Frank - but she converted - and no, this was Iowa, not Arkansas. (Hi Tori!) Joan grew up just a couple streets over from us in Iowa. In fact, had she not gone to Catholic schools, she and Howard would have been in the same grade. Every winter Drake University would ice down their football practice field for the neighborhood kids to skate on. This was only a little over a block away from us. We spent a lot of time there, as did Joan. How many times had we passed each other on the rink with absolutely no idea who each other was? That's really sad. And it made Joan mad. Anyway, we're close now and I love her dearly. So here's a shout-out birthday wish to my very confused cousin Joan Hanlon. I love you sweetie. And be careful on your drive back from Colorado.

Okay, now that you've gotten a very confusing family history - have a great rest of Memorial Day Weekend.

I've Had Days Like This

EDIT: Jo Leigh had a contest where she's giving away copies of backstock. The contest is over, but she still has 8 books to get rid of - get over there if you're interested.

Three old men are at the doctor for a memory test.
The doctor says to the first old man, "What is three times three?"
"274" was his reply.
The doctor worriedly says to the second man, "It's your turn. What is three times three?" "Tuesday" replies the second man.
The doctor sadly says to the third man, "Okay, your turn. What's three times three"?
"Nine" says the third man.
"That's great!" exclaims the doctor. "How did you get that"?
"Jeez, Doc, it's pretty simple," says the third man. "I just subtracted 274 from Tuesday."


I got this one from Ruby and thought y'all would enjoy it too. I'll be working with the boss this morning, so no internet until I get home. Have a great Saturday.

It's Spamarama Time

What's been in my in-box lately. Well, let's see.

Holiday inflection (Would that be the Irish accent I use on St. Patrick's Day?)
Illegitimate movements noted (Hey, my parent's were married)
Misdemenor Probe (You aren't sticking that thing up me)
Your family., dull-eared (Oh that will get me on your side real quick - your family lizard breath)
We don't care what you think about us (Obviously)
Emerging Growth (I shaved last year)
Your neighbors lost their alarm clock (one, two, three ... I.Don't.Care.)
Illegal action shown (Just because my neighbors are stupid doesn't make it illegal)
You never know (I know that half of my dull-eared family would be in prison if it were)
Trouble remembering things (Not me, my alarm clock is right next to my bed)
Hi palate bone (Hello shoulder blade)
Look awesome by Springtime (Only if you have a magic wand - haven't you noticed? It's almost Summer)
Local Homeowner's Association is trying to expel YOU (Let them try - they'll lose more than their alarm clock)
Here's the advice - regarding next Friday (Oh now, so you think you could do better ?)

It's also Giveaway Friday:

Jill Shalvis:

Free Fall (Temptation: American Heroes; spin-off of Men of Courage II)
Room Service (Blaze)
For Love of Nick (Temptation: Cooper's Corner)
Hero For Hire (Trueblood Texas)
Men of Courage II (w/ Lori Foster and Donna Kauffman)
Roughing it With Ryan (Temptation)
The Rancher's Surrender (Intimate Moment)
Paris or Bust (w/ Kate Hoffmann and Jacqueline Diamond)

Anthologies:

Man of My Dreams (Sherrilyn Kenyon, Maggie Shayne, Suzanne Forster and Virginia Kantra)
Perfect for the Beach (Lori Foster, Janelle Denison, Erin McCarthy, MaryJanice Davidson, Kayla Perrin and Morgan Leigh)
Bad Boys Over Easy (Erin McCarthy, Jen Nicholas and Jordan Summers)
Bad Boys in Black Tie (Lori Foster, Erin McCarthy and Morgan Leigh)
Bad Boys on Board (Lori Foster, Donna Kauffman and Nancy Warren)

Contemporary Romance:

Good Girls Don't by Kelley St. John
The Model Man by Genie Davis

Paranormal/Fantasy:

Sword of Darkness (Lords of Avalon) by Kinley MacGregor
Heart Choice by Robin D. Owens

Romantic Suspense:

Lie By Moonlight by Amanda Quick
The Protector by Gennita Low
Code of Honor by Catherine Mann
Double Play by Penelope Neri

Poor Thursday

You know, Thursday is such a pathetic day. Nobody really loves it, well they don't hate it either - that's reserved for Monday, but it's no TGIF, not even a Hump Wednesday. Some might argue that it's the same for Tuesday - but Tuesday isn't so bad, after all it means that Monday is over. People actually look forward to Tuesday. Songs have been written with Tuesday in it. Nope, Thursday is a long forgotten day - sort of like my other blogs. Others may say "but Thursday means it's closer to Friday, so that makes it important." Phewy. It short-changes it. Think about it. "As soon as this Thursday is over - it's Friday." People want Thursday to pass by quickly. In some places it's even referred to as Friday Eve. It's true that Thursday has a designated holiday every year - Thanksgiving, but that's not because it's Thursday. It's just another excuse for some to take a long weekend. Oh, and then there's Maunday Thursday - but that's not exactly a time for joyous celebration. What would have happened if Crusoe had named his noble side-kick Thursday instead of Friday? Or His Girl Thursday instead of His Girl Friday - honest, Cary Grant would have been just as good whatever day of the week. Why didn't this happen? I'll tell you why - it's because Thursday is boring, that's why. Here's just a few more: Thursday Night Lights, Thursday in the Park With George, Thursday Night Football, or even Rainy Days and Thursday. You can't tell me that Karen Carpenter couldn't have sold that one. Are you starting to get my drift? Poor, lamented Thursday. I say we honor this noble day. I say we unite against oppression, lift those chains of sorrow from those sagging shoulders, stop the abuse of Thursday. Everybody stand up and say "I love Thursdays and I'm not going to take it anymore."



This blog brought to you by the I Can't Think of What to Blog About organization. Sniff a few days of paint fumes and you too could become a member.

And Now, the End is Near

Okay- we're 98% finished, but enough that I can start putting things up. There's some touch-ups along the top for Susie to do, and then I have to paint the part of the shelves that I couldn't get to because the credenza was pulled out. Only I had Susie carry the paint bucket (heavy) out to the garage - sheesh. Anyway, no after pictures until the curtains are up and everythings in its place. And things aren't fitting like I had hoped. I had wanted to bring the mini-fridge in here, but the couch is a lot longer than the one that had been in here before - hmmmm. You should have seen Susie and I getting that couch in here. It's a good thing I'm covering it with a slip-cover because we sort of tore it getting it into the house ...



There's no real hurry now, although I do have to get all of the boxes out of the living room and into their respective rooms, but then I can just leisurely unpack (I'd like to have it done by next week).



Okay - off to blog a little before mom gets up.

Before

Still at it. Hopefully we'll finish tonight. And then the long, arduous job of unpacking. Here's some before pictures.

You can't really tell here, but it was a dark green with light green trimming. When it was first done it was pretty, but has worn out it's welcome (about 13 years worth).










Ah yes, this one is a little bit better - see it's not that dark. But the green is prettier than the picture shows. And that border - well, let's not ask Susie what she thinks of that (took her quite a while to get it down). Look - I have a ghost orb near the a/c vent. Wow.









And heeeeere's Susie. She says that this is her best side. Those shelves that she's standing next to are what I have to work on today. All of that taping is taking time, but it does give a cleaner line. This built-in unit around the side window was there when we moved in. The original family (we're the second owners) had two boys and this room was built for two. There used to be a built-in desk under the window, between the two units, but I had that taken out years ago. There are two closets in here too.


Anyway, have to go now or I won't get anything done. I'll be back on a limited basis tomorrow - I plan to rest most of the day (I am so sore), and then there's the moving of boxes and unpacking (both rooms as I haven't unpacked anything in the bedroom yet.

Update

Just thought I would let y'all know that it just might be Wednesday before I get back to blogland. Things are going just a little bit slower than I thought. I'm only on-line now to check a few emails and then post this. I AM NOT going to visit anyone's blog because I don't have time to go to them all and I don't want anyone to feel slighted. Okay - I lied, I will be going by Jill's because ... well, it's Jill, people, and Donna Kauffman said something about a contest with prizes from her and Jill. And you know I'm not going to pass that up. At least I think that's Monday? Anyway, gotta get back to work. I hope to get back to you soon.

Adios

Well, she's not exactly gone yet. The A/C compressor at her new apartment quit today - and they can't fix it until Monday. Soooooo, Bebo is here two more nights, but she can't be here on Sunday. She's allergic to the enamel Susie and I will be using for the trimming so she has to find other arrangements. But, I'm going to go ahead and list the things I will miss when she's gone (and I know its only 9 miles away - but its not down the hall).

1) Late night talks, Sunday morning conversations.
2) Her laughter coming down the hall when she watches something funny in her room.
3) Security- mother is entering another phase now with the Alzheimer's and I'm just a little nervous about being here alone - she's getting up in the middle of the night. The first night neither one of us heard her.
4) Instant feedback - well not exactly instant, but with her not living here I have to wait a few days until she comes over to show her what I've written, while now I just have to wait for her to get home. I know, I can email it - but it's not just the same.
5) I'd gotten used to her setting up the coffee pot before going to bed. Now I'm going to have to remember to do it.
6) Fetch it - you know, can you pick up a loaf of bread on your way home?
7) Alcohol. I know, she's still going to bring me some - but now I have to wait until the weekend.
8) Strength in numbers. This kind of goes with number 3, but it was nice to have someone to share the burden, not just for the new phase, but all of the phases.
9) Gossip.
10) Laughter. Period.

Bye, Beverly (yes, she has a real name). You've been a swell roomie. I love ya sis.


Now that we've gotten the serious stuff out of the way, wanna know what truly insane people do on a Thursday morning? Go to Vanessa Jaye's blog. I will only admit to Snow White, the Sheik and CSI. I did not, however, provide the names of the dwarves, but these three are the only ones that I'm owning up to.

And don't forget that as of this afternoon I'm off-line until Monday or Tuesday. Try to behave yourselves while I'm gone.

It's Spamarama Time

As Bebo is my witness, yes the alarm clock one comes in every week. And you wouldn’t believe the one that arrived today (Thursday) – you’ll recognize it. We're going to try the monitor today, so if I don't see you later you'll know it didn't work. Keep your fingers crossed.

Need Software? (Nope, but you wouldn’t happen to have a monitor there?)
Beluv (Oh thank you. At least I’m someone’s beluv)
Let us pay next time (Oh wow! Thank you.)
3 Night Orlando vacation - $49 (Just $49 for 3 nights with Orlando? Is this what you’re paying for?)
Re: the medtcatiomons (I think you’ve had enough medtcatiomons)
Replica for you (Orlando Bloom? Because you see, I have a 3 night vacation with him – and they’re paying)
Hi, hit me asap (Finally, an offer I might actually accept)
Here … (There, and everywhere)
Repentant chatty (Nope, unrepentant chatty. Talk, talk, talk)
Do you need a new monitor? (Ummmm, I want to know how you know this and I want to know now!)
Your neighbors lost their alarm clock (see the people above, they’re paying for it)
Hey buddy, what’s up (Well, I’m taking a 3 night vacation with Orlando Bloom, my neighbors lost their alarm clock again and I get to hit someone. What’s up with you?)
Notice of approval Tue, 16 May 2006 18:21:76-0500 (I wanted everyone to know the date and time I was approved)
Prozac (Thanks. Hey you haven’t been handing out medtcatiomons around here?)
Your money., author-ridden (Thank you. Wait a minute - this isn’t enough for a 3 day vacation with Orlando Bloom!)

Melancholy

I received some disturbing news this week. An acquaintance of mine has passed away. Her name was Renee Garrett. We went to elementary, Jr. High and High School together. We weren't best friends, but we were friends. I remember her as laughing a lot. She lived the next street over from me. It really brings home those feelings of mortality. Today is her funeral, but I won't be going. It just isn't the right day for a funeral - not that there's any good days. But you see, Howard would have been 54 today. For those of you who have joined the blog recently, Howard was my brother who passed away last September. He was Bebo's husband and I know that today will be hard for her, since its his first birthday since he died. So I think you can understand how a funeral wouldn't be the place I would want to be today. And yes, that's Howard.






On another note - Jo Leigh really needs your help. She's writing a book with a character that has lost a hand and she needs to talk to someone who has had that experience (or even an arm). I know which character she is talking about and I'm really looking forward to this book, so you'll be helping me too. If you know someone who fits this criteria who would be willing to talk to her, please let her know. Information on her blog.

For Daisy

I promised Daisy that I wouldn't post anything great until after the weekend (don't worry, we'll still have Spamarama Friday - she'll just have to get over it), so here's a joke for your day. Actually, I'm just up to my armpits in boxes, etc.

God is so Good!!
After starting a new diet, I altered my drive to work to avoid passing my favorite bakery. I accidentally drove by the bakery this morning and as I approached, there in the window were a host of goodies. I felt this was no accident, so I prayed ... "Lord, it's up to you, if you want me to have any of those delicious goodies, create a parking place for me directly in front of the bakery." And sure enough, on the eighth time around the block, there it was!

Happy Birthday Toni

True Friendship Has Many Ingredients

by Sonya Williams

True friendship isn't seen with the eyes;

It's felt with the heart

when there is trust,

understanding, secrets,

loyalty, and sharing.

Friendship is a feeling

rarely found in life,

but when it is found

it has a profound impact

on one's well-being,

strength, and character.

Happy Birthday Toni. You have become a true friend. I hope you have a wonderful day.

Everyone, go over and wish Toni a Happy Birthday.

It Begins

What begins? The countdown to Bebo's leaving. I'm sitting here right now in the semi-dark listening to her cough down the hall. Asthma is giving her a little bit of trouble right now. But I'm going to miss that coughing, just like I missed my father's snoring when he was gone. This is our last week here, together. It's been a bit of an adventure - a little trial and triumph. I know there were times when we got on each other's nerves, but we made it without any blowups or arguments with our friendship intact. So I thought I'd write tonight about what I won't miss when she's gone. So here goes:

1) Cat's fighting. There'll be peace in this house from the furry ones for the first time in six years. No, Bebo hasn't been here for six years, but until the loss of Siobhan and Cassidy there has always been dissention in the furry ranks. The four left when she leaves all get along pretty good, so that will be a little different.

2) Those damn boxes in front of her bedroom door. We have them there to keep her cats and mine from fighting under the door and making it rattle all night. Having to get by them down the hall, or stepping over them to enter the room has been irritating. I'll be glad to have that over with.

3) Sharing the bathroom, making sure that I've gone in the morning before she gets up - otherwise I have to just hold it until she's done with her shower. Next time, separate bathrooms.

4) Having only one TV to record my shows on. The networks are always scheduling stuff opposite each other that I want to see, and I would have to beg her to tape one of them for me. Like Tuesday, when I have to ask her to tape a special for me that's opposite NCIS and AI.

5) Having to be quiet - Monday nights Mom and I watch Leno, so I'd have to remember to keep the volume down because the den is next to her bedroom. I also won't miss having to keep Mom quiet on the occasional Sunday morning when Bebo might sleep a little late.

6) Bebo the Fire Breathing Dragon Bitch From Hell. She knows what I mean.

That's it. My that was a short list.

Nothing more tonight - oh, wait. Did I tell you I hurt my back today? It wasn't from lifting boxes either. I was carrying a box of books down the hall and into the living room. I couldn't see my feet (that's important - and no, it wasn't a cat). As I rounded the corner in the hall I tripped over one of those boxes mentioned in #2. I didn't fall, but banged up against the wall and slammed my right foot down to catch my balance thereby wrenching my back. It's pretty painful right now, although the Advil helped. I can't sit at the computer very long. I don't know how it will feel in the morning, but if you don't hear from me for a while, then you'll know why.

A Letter to My Mother

Dear Mom,

I know you will never read this. In fact, if you were, I doubt you would even understand what I'm saying. But I'm going to write this anyway. You have always been my strength, my protector, my teacher and my friend. I've always felt that our relationship was special, I know it's a lot different than your relationship with Cathie, Howard and David. I'm the baby. I'll always be your baby no matter how old I get. And you'll always be my mother no matter how far you drift from the mother I knew. You have been such an important part of my life - everything that is good about me comes from you: my morals, my values, and my ideals. You taught me empathy, fairness, compassion - that we are all the same no matter our creed, race, gender, political affiliation, etc. Music and reading, the passions of my soul - those were your passions - you gave them to me, and in doing so opened up so many worlds, viewpoints; and a wealth of knowledge that no university could teach. You know what my earliest memories of you are? Creaking bones. I know that sounds like a rather unusual memory - and definitely not a fond one, but that's what it is. I remember being very small and laying across your chest with my head on your shoulder. I could hear your bones creaking as you breathed. It was comforting, soothing. Your voice crooning lullabyes, that's another memory. Your soothing voice as you read to me. Everything of my childhood comes back to you. I miss our long talks. I miss going to you and saying "Mom, I have a problem". And you would take it from me and make it better. You can't now. I take care of your problems. I don't think you realize how much I miss you - you're not capable of that understanding. But I wanted you to know that no matter what happens to you, you're still my mother. I love you.

Your Daughter,
Evelyn


(If you would like to move on to the lighter side of motherhood - look at the post below.)

Why God Made Mom's

(from left to right: Me, Cathie, Mom, Janet [other SIL] and Bebo)
(photo below: Mom and Howard)
(photo after that: Granny Bebo)
(photo at end: MyMaternal Grandmother)


Answers given by elementary school age children to the following questions...

Why did God make mothers?
1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.

What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.

Why did God give you your mother and not some other Mom?
1. We're related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.

What kind of little girl was your Mom?
1. My Mom has always been my Mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

What did Mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?

Why did your Mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.

Who's the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goof ball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What's the difference between moms and dads?
1. Moms work at work & work at home, & dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your Mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.

What would it take to make your Mom perfect?
1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd dye it, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on her back.

==============================
THE MOMMY TEST
I was out walking with my 4 year old daughter. She picked up something off the ground and started to put it in her mouth. I took the item away from her and I asked her not to do that.
"Why?" my daughter asked.
"Because it's been laying outside, you don't know where it's been, it's dirty and probably has germs" I replied.
At this point, my daughter looked at me with total admiration and asked, "Wow! How do you know all this stuff?"
"Uh," ...I was thinking quickly, "All moms know this stuff. It's on the Mommy Test. You have to know it, or they don't let you be a Mommy."
We walked along in silence for 2 or 3 minutes, but she was evidently pondering this new information.
"OH...I get it!" she beamed, "So if you don't pass the test you have to be the daddy."
"Exactly" I replied back with a big smile on my face and joy in my heart.
=====================
"Dear Lord," the preacher began with arms extended and a rapturous look on his upturned face, "without you we are but dust..."
He would have continued, but at that moment one very obedient little girl (who was listening carefully) leaned over to her mother and asked quite audibly in her shrill little girl voice, "Mommy, WHAT is butt dust?"
Church was pretty much over at that point...

Happy Mother's Day everyone. (Thank you for sending this to me Glenice)

Ahhhhhh, bliss

Picture yourself near a stream.

Birds are softly chirping in the crisp, cool mountain air.

Nothing can bother you here.

No one knows this secret place.

You are in total seclusion from that place called "the world."

The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.

The water is clear.

You can easily make out the face of the person whose head you're holding under the water.

There now ... feeling better?




Okay - the words aren't flowing tonight, so I'm going off to dreamland.

Lonestar Seduction word count: 12,129
Tonight's word count: 578
Dropping silly political joke: Priceless

That Certainly Clears That Up

This is a true story - as hard as that is to believe *gg*

A woman had died in January, but her bank had billed her for their annual service charges for February and March on her credit card, and then added late fees and interest on the monthly charge. The balance had been $0.00 but was now around $60.00.
A family member placed a call to the bank.
Family Member: "I am calling to tell you that she died in January."
Bank: "The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply."
Family Member: "Maybe, you should turn it over to collections."
Bank: "Since it is two months past due, it already has been."
Family Member: So, what will they do when they find out she's dead?"
Bank: "Either report her account to the frauds division or report her to the credit bureau, maybe both!"
Family Member: "Do you think God will be mad at her?"
Bank: "Excuse me?"
Family Member: "Did you just get what I was telling you, the part about her being dead?"
Bank: "Sir, you'll have to speak to my supervisor."
Supervisor gets on the phone:
Family Member: "I'm calling to tell you, she died in January."
Bank: "The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply."
Family Member: "You mean you want to collect from her estate?"
Bank: (Stammer) "Are you her lawyer?"
Family Member: "No, I'm her great nephew." (Lawyer info given)
Bank: "Could you fax us a certificate of death?"
Family Member: "Sure." (fax number is given)
After they get the fax: Bank: "Our system just isn't set-up for death. I don't know what more I can do to help."
Family Member: "Well, if you figure it out, great! If not, you could just keep billing her. I don't think she will care."
Bank: "Well, the late fees and charges do still apply."
Family Member: "Would you like her new billing address?"
Bank: "That might help."
Family Member: "Odessa Memorial Cemetery, Highway 129, Plot Number 69."
Bank: "Sir, that's a cemetery!"
Family Member: "What do you do with dead people on your planet?"

I'm busy packing and trying to get some writing done, so you may get some more of this stuff. Don't forget that Friday is Spamarama Friday!

Also, Michele is going through a family crisis - lots of good thoughts and prayers her way.

UPDATE: It's 3 o'freakin' 04 in the morning. I am toast. About 3 hours of sleep until the alarm goes off. I have to go to Wallyworld and then to Office Depot for an ink cartridge. I'm about to run out and I will not write without being able to print it out, I learned that lesson a long time ago. Then I have got to have a nap before work or I won't make it through the evening. We know how Thursday nights are for me, so I will be dead by Friday morning. I have a lot of packing to get done - this is not how I had planned to spend Wednesday night.

Reluctant Reunion, Lonestar Reunion, Lonestar Seduction or whatever it's called word count: 11,517
Tonight's word count: 1,505
A good nights sleep: I'm too busy laughing at that one.

The End is Near

Well we're movin on up, To the east side. To a deluxe apartment in the sky. Movin on up
To the east side. We finally got a piece of the pie.

Not that end - the end of Bebo living here. She moves out the weekend of the 20th - 21st. She's not going to be that far away, closer than where she was before she moved in here. That will be good - especially for those times when I've had to call her to come over in the middle of the night. Anyway, I have to work the next week to get my stuff here in the study boxed up. Not only the things that will be moved back into my bedroom, but the rest of the stuff here in the study. We figure (Bebo, Susie and the mouse in my pocket) that since most of the room and shelves will be empty for the move(I have 8 of the 14 shelves filled with bedroom stuff now), this would be a good time to paint the study. Do it before the couch comes back in and the non-fiction books in the packed away in the garage fill the shelves back up. Sound good to you too? So, on the 20th and 21st Susie and I will be painting. I will also be off-line that weekend - it'll be easier to paint without having to step over cords while the desk is pulled away from the wall. I'll post before and after pictures.

I've discovered something else while I've been back in this room (I think I mentioned that the study was once my bedroom in my teen years). Before, we had dial-up, so the computer wasn't on all of the time. With DSL it is and it really heats up the room in these high temperatures. Didn't notice it so much in the winter time, but it's really bad now. I'm going to have to turn this thing off from about noon until sundown - until the move is done. I'm sweatin' bullets now and the A/C is going, plus the ceiling fan and another fan. Just too much heat for me. The heat index for Tuesday was over 100. And you could see the air - the ozone is going to be bad this summer.

Anyway, I'll try to get some writing done early in the morning or late at night - but this computer has to be closed down by 10:00 or 11:00 in order for the bedroom to cool down enough for me to sleep.

That said, since it is 9:00 now I better decide whether I'll be writing tonight or in the morning.

UPDATE: You must - and I repeat must - go over to Daisy's blog today. Too, too funny.

Here, There and Everywhere

I know I just posted a picture of Bailey the other day, but since he's the subject of today's post I thought I'd put in another one. And yes, that was Devlin.

So I had this great morning of writing planned for Sunday. Bebo was going to be gone for the day, mom is usually quiet in the mornings, I was excited about the book again (still am). Everything was set. I didn't count on Bailey and his claws and his teeth. Have I mentioned that Bailey is only 11 months old? He still has kitten ways and we're still training him. But I don't think this fetish will ever be solved. You see, Bailey likes kleenex and toilet paper. He'll even shred the TP on the dispenser (for lack of a better word). If you leave the roll on the cabinet - he'll jump up, grab it and then run into the living room, shredding as he goes. So I got up Sunday morning - went into the bathroom, did my business - reached down for the paper and found an almost completely shredded (practically full) roll. I wasn't happy - and I had had enough. So I woke mom up around 7:00, got her breakfast, told Bebo bye and headed out to Wallyworld. I bought this little chrome canister with a lid. It's sitting on the cabinet now. A little awkward, but Bailey can't get to it. Anyway, it made my morning late and just put a damper on the whole thing. I find that I write best either early in the morning or late at night. So I didn't get as much done as I would have liked.

Anyway, thought I would also send you to a couple of places. Rene has been posting about types of heroes and I think mine are Gammas. What about you?

Kelly attended the RWA Silicon Valley "Prepare to Pitch" Conference and will be sharing tidbits about it this week. Should be a lot of interesting information.

Raine's book Let's Pretend has received a wonderful review at Dear Author.com. Go check it out.

Siobhan has this really funny bit from novelist Andrea Semple's Writing Tips newsletter. It'll give you a giggle. Siobhan's site is comment restricted to bravenet members only, but you can leave comments on the tag board.

Okay - I've probably forgotten someone's post - oh, wait - Did you ever have a crush on an anime character? Michele has - go and see if Race Bannon (of the original Johnny Quest) is the man for you. Anyway, my apologies if I've missed someone's great blog. Catch you next time.

UPDATE: I only thought I was going to go to bed early.
Reluctant Reunion word count: 10,012

I'm writing. What are you doing?
Here's a giggle for the day.

PRODUCT WARNINGS
Dumb and Funny Warning Labels On Products
Liquid Plummer: Warning: Do not reuse the bottle to store beverages.
Windex: Do not spray in eyes.
Bowl Fresh: Safe to use around pets and children, although it is not recommended that either be permitted to drink from toilet.
Toilet Plunger: Caution: Do not use near power lines.
Dremel Electric Rotary Tool: This product not intended for use as a dental drill.
Arm & Hammer Scoopable Cat Litter: Safe to use around pets.
Endust Duster: This product is not defined as flammable by the Consumer Products Safety Commission Regulations. However, this product can be ignited under certain circumstances. Baby Oil: Keep out of reach of children
Wet-Nap: Directions: Tear open packet and use.
Dial Soap: Directions: Use like regular soap.
Stridex Foaming Face Wash: May contain foam.
Hairdryer: Do not use while taking a shower.
Sleeping Pills: Warning: May cause Drowsiness
Christmas Lights: Warning: For indoor or outdoor use only.
Bic Lighter: Ignite lighter away from face.
Komatsu Floodlight: This floodlight is capable of illuminating large areas, even in the dark
Fire Extinguisher: Caution: Non-Flammable
Earplugs: These ear plugs are nontoxic, but may interfere with breathing if caught in windpipe
Matches: Caution: Contents may catch fire.
Pepper Spray: Caution: Never aim spray at your own eyes.
Auto-Shade Windshield Visor: Warning: Do not drive with sunshade in place. Remove from windshield before starting ignition.
Fix-a-Flat: WARNING: Do not weld can to rim.
Rain Gauge: Suitable for outdoor use.
RCA Television Remote Control: Not Dishwasher Safe
Road Sign: Caution water on road during rain.
Camera: This camera will only work when film is inside.
Road Sign: Cemetery Road. Dead End
Rowenta Iron: Warning: Never iron clothes on the body.
Slush Puppy Cup: This ice may be cold
American Airlines Peanuts Instructions: open packet, eat nuts.
Nabisco Easy Cheese: For best results, remove cap.
Swanson TV Dinners: This product must be cooked before eating.
Hershey's Almond Bar Warning: May contain traces of nuts
Heinz Ketchup Instructions: Put on food
500-piece puzzle: Some assembly required.
Bag of Fritos: You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside.
Tesco's Tiramisu dessert: (printed on bottom of the box)Do not turn upside down.
Korean kitchen knife: Warning keep out of children
Hand-held Massaging Device: Do not use while sleeping or unconscious.
Aim-n-Flame fireplace lighter.> Do not use near fire, flame, or sparks.
Knife sharpening stone Warning: knives are sharp!
Rat Poison Warning: has been found to cause cancer in laboratory mice.

UPDATE: I should have checked my supply of envelopes when I was at Walmart yesterday (yes, that's another post). I've run out. I've only got a little over half of them done - off to post office in a bit. The following people will have to wait until I get to Walmart again on Friday. Sorry! Diane, Michele, Toni (well, you have to wait until Susie returns the book *gg*), Christa, and Ruby.

The Long and the Short of it

What's long? A full novel. What's short? A short story in an anthology. What's Reluctant Reunion? The first book in an anthology called Lone Star Reunion, featuring 4 stories about a group of people who find love at a high school reunion. I'll definitely change the title of Reluctant for this one - but I don't have to do that right now. Anyway, I've always written Romantic Suspense, so trying to write this particular book without a mystery has been hard. This WIP didn't want to be a mystery and, as it turned out, it doesn't want to be a full-length book either. I was having trouble moving it along without action. I felt like I was just putting in "filler" until the end. With a short story, I can move things without having to do all of that fluff stuff. Any, I'm posting this early because I'm going to get to bed before 10:00 (I know, surprise), to see if I can stay up tomorrow. I've been missing music with this too and I can't listen to it at night without disturbing mom, and I can't put on earphones because I have to hear mom - so I can listen to music in the mornings. I won't be blogging until the afternoon. I don't know just how much actual writing I'll get done tomorrow - I think it will be just going over the pages I have, tightening it up - actually plotting now that I know what's going on. And if this doesn't make any sense either - well, I know what I said - so there.

Rambling

That's Bailey.

I don't really have anything to blog about. I keep thinking about the WIP, but the problem is - I'm lost. I'm not interested. Bebo says it's going pretty good, but I don't feel it. I've been reading a lot of blogs lately about writing what you want, not to the market. I've always felt that what I wrote fit both of those criteria. I read Blaze's, so I'll write a Blaze. And that's okay - I don't think that's the problem. I think the problem is the WIP, I'm not into it. What do I know? I know that I'm a writer. I know that my fingers itch to hit those keys, to get into that groove, rhythm, zone - whatever you call it, where the words flow. It's addictive. I've been there before, I've felt that high - but not with this book. Every word is like pulling teeth. I don't know where it's going. Don't say plot, because I can't. My mind is blank, empty. There isn't anything there - I don't know what this book is, what I want from it. I'm not sure I even like the characters, their motivations. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is talking to me. I think what I need to do is step back, pull out some other unfinished stuff - see if I can find that missing spark. I know that there have been others who have gone through the same thing and struggled on, actually finishing a decent product. But what do you do if even the thought of working on it puts you to sleep? Do you keep working on something that isn't going anywhere? Something without the passion? I know that I need to stay with one thing; I know that switching in midstream isn't a good thing. Sorry this isn't making any sense. Look at the title - I'm rambling folks. No maps for this ping-pong journey through my mind.

Spamarama Friday

Yes folks, it's time for another ditzy dive into Eve's bulk file. Its not like I have anything else to do but collect useless pieces of spam for your enjoyment. Once again (to any newcomers or those who have slept since the last time) all comments in bold are mine, unless you don't like them, then I don't know where they came from.


Order anytime Leslie (Don’t call me Leslie)

I’m back in town now (I need to know this because …?)

Check in here please (Your name wouldn’t happen to be Bates, would it?)

Permission (Granted)

You brighten my day (You’re just saying that because you want me to buy a penis enlarger)

Justin Timberlake got one (A penis enlarger? Good for him.)

You’re neighbors lost their alarm clock (You keep telling me this! I’ll give them a damn alarm clock)

We feel you have it (Listen Cagney and Lacey, I didn't take their freakin' alarm clock!)

SPUR-M!!! (Excuse me?)

Dnot mvoe form yuor hosue (Dnot woryr I wnot)

With kids your marriage becomes stronger. Make as many kids as you want with Spermanex (Is this sort of like silly putty?)

Be pretty (Thank you. I will)

Horror (You’ve been singing TV Theme songs too?)

Whats up? (Oh you know, singing TV theme songs, talking to spam. Just normal stuff. What’s up with you?)

Whoa … no way (Is this the SPUR-M person?)

Theee neeext “Hooomeee Ruun Sstooocck?” (Ooooohhhhhh nooooooooo, Martha Stewart on downers)

Im available tonight evemd (SPUR-M is looking for someone)

Things should go fine (For who? You, me or SPUR-M?)

Football in bed (Now that’s a thought. The cleats would hurt though. And could we get rid of those cheerleaders?)

We cure any desease (except for spellingitis)

A Day Late, But Not a Dollar Short

I forgot about yesterdays release of The Duchess' newest book, so here it is:

Wicked Payback By Daisy Dexter Dobbs

Celibate for three years following her second divorce from the same man, Meredith is tired of being a goody-two-shoes. It's time for a change. A rebellion. And that's precisely why she agrees to meet her multi-cheating ex-husband for a reunion dinner on her birthday.While the charming Jack is anticipating an evening of raw sex, romance and reconciliation, Meredith has a different agenda in mind. One that involves a well-deserved, wickedly funny dose of payback.Her sinful scheme would be a lot less challenging if her thighs didn't quiver at the mere thought of Jack's substantial attributes. His big, bold, deeply satisfying attributes. And if she could only forget how a certain vigorous thrust and twist of his hips sends her spiraling into orgasmic bliss.Alas, after she realizes she's still in love with Jack, poor Meredith's vengeful plans go terribly awry. And she suddenly finds herself face-to-face with a sexy woman in a slinky red dress. A devilish woman—with a pair of horns sprouting beneath her bangs.Oh yes, turning forty can be hell. Literally.

Publisher: Ellora's Cave
Publishing Date: May 3, 2006
Sexual Content: Rated E-rotic
Genre: Rubenesque/Paranormal
Format: ebook

I really enjoy Daisy's sense of humor - it is a pleasure to read her blog. She's got a great press release on this book - go over and read it now.

Mary and the Cow

Once there was a little girl named Mary who lived on a farm. She was a timid child, not oldest, not youngest - just somewhere in the middle. She loved her daddy and mommy and brothers and sisters, but she was afraid of the cow. Not just the cow, but of the goose too. Everyone was afraid of the goose which made Mary feel better about it, but she was the only one afraid of that cow. One day her father was taking the cow back to the barn when he was called inside to answer the phone. Handing the rope to Mary he told her to wait there until he got back. Mary stood and looked at the cow. It stepped towards her, she stepped back. Again it moved towards her and again she moved back.

Mary's daddy was in the house talking on the phone when he heard Mary screaming. Dropping the phone he ran out of the house. His oldest daughter Alice could hear Mary screaming too, but at the same time she could hear her daddy ... laughing? Going out to the porch, Alice could see her daddy laughing so hard that he was almost bent over. Then she saw Mary run by, the cow right behind her. In between fits of laughter she could hear her daddy yell "Drop the rope." You see, Mary had been standing between the cow and the barn and all the poor thing wanted to do was go to the barn but when she stepped towards it, Mary would back up. And then when the cow moved again, Mary began running - still holding the rope. The poor cow wasn't chasing that little girl, she was being pulled after her. Mary still doesn't like cows - except on her plate. Where they can't chase her.

You really ought to be around when my mother (Mary) and her sister Alice tell this story. Tears of laughter stream down their faces as they both yell "Drop the rope!"

So anyway, some people asked for this story (it's one of Glenice's favorites and she has had the pleasure of hearing it from my mother herself), so here it is.

The goose is another story ...

My Duckie

You've got to put down the duckie, put down the duckie. You've got to put down the duckie if you want to play the saxophone. Sesame Street (or something close to that)

No, I haven't switched from TV theme songs to Sesame Street. Neither have I totally lost my mind. This is another one of my "bear with me" blogs. I know, two in a row - what is the world coming to? Since I am Queen of my blog and the Center of Christa's World I can pretty much put here what I want to, right? LOL

I was standing on the ramp Saturday morning enjoying my 15 minutes of 6:00 a.m. quiet when this song popped into my head. Now, I was too old for Sesame Street when it first aired, but I did learn some songs a couple of years later in children's choir at church when we strung some together for some concert (I love trash, anything dirty or dingy or dusty, anything ragged or rotten or rusty - sorry, but that was dedicated to the Duchess of Wit). And I learned a few more when babysitting my nephew Dylan (who will be 16 this June - say it isn't so) because one of his favorite tapes was a Sesame Street sing-along tape. This song was on it. It's hysterical because the video is done by celebrities like Rhea Perlman and Danny DeVito, and Jeremy Irons. It's my favorite. So anyhoo, there I was in the quiet of morning singing Put Down the Duckie in my head (I blame it on watching the Daytime Emmy Awards the night before where Carol Spinney received a life-time achievement award for portraying Big Bird and the Grouch - yay Carol!) and I finally got it! I don't know if this was the composers meaning, but I interpret it as saying that a child has to put down the duckie (security blanket, etc) before they can go on into the next step in childhood development. This is very nice Eve, er Your Highness, but what does this have to do with us. I'm glad you asked. I have a duckie. Oh not literally - although I do have a couple of very sweet stuffed bunnies that Olga sent me. But I have something that I have clung to and has kept me from going on in my life. My fear of mistakes. It became such a big part of my life that it contributed largely to my agoraphobia. I was ridiculed and made fun of by my family for making mistakes and I just came to believe that everyone would do the same thing to me. I literally would panic at having to write something down that others might see in case I made a mistake. Kind of crippling when you're trying to become an author, isn't it? That's one of the reasons I started blogging, so that I could make mistakes, pick myself up and keep going. I'm not quite there yet, but it's easier now than it was a year ago. I've just got to learn that its okay to put down my duckie and move on. What about you? Is there a "duckie" in your life, something that you cling to that holds you back from achieving your goals?

UPDATE: Case in point. I did my review of Aussie Rules tonight for B&N (I had actually thought I'd already done it a few weeks ago, but the Devlin stuff messed me up), so I quickly wrote it and posted it. It's not one of my best reviews, but I leave those for Amazon as I think they are more important. Anyway, I was closing down Word (I do them there first so that I can catch all of the mistakes with spell-check) when it hit me. There was my duckie looking me square in the face and quacking madly. I had meant to type the word "in" but somehow missed the "n" (that's because it's worn off - sorry, blog post flashback) and Word had changed it to the capital "I" so that spell-check didn't snag it. Now I'm in duckie panic. I know it's a simple mistake, that everyone makes them - the intellectual part of me knows that, but the slug inside is just cringing with horror. It's there for all of the world to see and I'll brood about it for stomach churning weeks, but there's nothing I can do about it now. I just have to get over it, won't I?

A Journey Through Weird World

I'm going to wax philosophical now. Yes, me. I can do that, watch and see.

I've been going from blog to blog reading peoples responses to the recent "6 Weird Things About Me" meme. And, with some exceptions (and you know who you are), everybody was pretty much in agreement that we didn't see a lot of "weirdness" in the lists. That's because we creative folks live in our own reality that's quite different from others. Different doesn't mean bad, it just means ... different. This goes for all creative endeavors - writers, painters, crafters, anything that involves the imagination. We live there. We exist in that realm of "what ifs," "why nots" and especially "why can't I?" You readers are probably thinking "What does this have to do with me? I'm not creative." But you are. When you walk into a museum and see a painting that draws you in, when you read a book that keeps you involved, you are connecting on some level with the artist/author. There's a part of you that recognizes yourself in their work. When you read a book you join the author on their journey - your imagination soars with them. Everything that a writer does involves a part of themselves, whether its a characteristic they share with the hero/heroine, a place, a mood, a nightmare, we're there if you look hard enough. And because of this, you know us, you live in our world if only for that brief time. Writers have to be a little "weird" so to speak. In our work we open ourselves for the world to see, we allow you into our dreams, hopes, the private fantasies that most people would be too embarrassed to share. So I say we're not "weird", we're unique. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Book Draw: And the winner is ... everybody! What? You read right, everybody. My backstock box is overflowing and needs some cleaning out in order to add new stuff, so I'm having a blowout. I'll probably do this every once in a while - I just won't tell you that's what I'm doing because I'm mean like that. I have the addresses for most of you, but the others need to go to my profile and email me with your snailmail addresses. Those people are: Brandy, Michele, Sandy, Tori and Kristie. Oh, and Toni? Yours will be a little late because Saturday night, after the third margarita, I let Susie borrow it and read it - after all, she's not going to keep it. I knew you wouldn't mind since she said such nice things about Her Sanctuary, which everyone needs to purchase, BTW.