I realize I've been a bit inconsistent in my blogging of late, but truth be told, I've been on a bit of a writing hiatus. That is a tough thing for me to admit, and something I've struggled a great deal with. It's just that life has thrown me some pretty big hurtles over the last six months -longer since I am being truthful. But the last six months have been the true test. It all started with my husband's first heart attack. Yes, I said first, as he has now had two of the buggers. Thankfully, he has had a fantastic team of doctors who have not only put him back together but also, installed four stents to insure-God willing- that he will be around for many more years to come. Now if my hubby's health issues were not enough to stress me out, a job change for him demanded we had to sell our home and move to Pennsylvania. Never one to take the easy way out I convinced my hubby that I wanted to do a for -sale- by- owner. The practical side of me knew that I could do it, if given the opportunity. At first my hubby baulked, while he has faith in me, this was a huge undertaking-one I've never done before. So I did what I'm best at, I did the research, wrote out the pros and cons -there really weren't many cons- and stated my case. Much to my delight and horror, he agreed to let me have a go at it. To tell the truth, it was not a horrible experience. Unless, you count the fact that the hubby had his second heart attack two weeks after we put the house on the market! Maybe he was more stressed about my trying to sell the house than he let on.  He shouldn't have been, as it turns out the universe had our back and things worked out just fine. We not only had an offer on our home within eighteen days of listing it, were also able to make an offer on a beautiful new home in PA. It was a scary thirty days, hoping that the planets would continue to align, but align they did. We closed on our old home and had an offer accepted on our new home, and for the most part, things went smoothly. The move was stressful; they always are, but this one even more so. On the day our furniture arrived, I received a phone call. It was one that I expected, but one I prayed would never come, the passing of my favorite aunt. A long term breast cancer survivor, she'd been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer last year and given six months to live. Those doctors sure are accurate. So, a couple days later, with my house still filled with boxes, I drove to Kentucky to say my final goodbyes. The drive there was not so bad. I think I had tunnel vision, my only focus getting to my destination. The drive home on the other hand felt as if it took forever, my loss weighing heavy on my heart. When I returned home there was so much left to do. I think in some ways unpacking helped, it kept me busy,  made me focus on what needed to be done.

This past weekend, one month to the day of my aunt's passing, I was in Kentucky signing books at the Southern Kentucky Bookfest. I had thought of my aunt multiple times over the course of the day, had even brought along a satchel my aunt had made for me.  Still, that did not prepare me for my aunt to walk through the door. Okay, obviously it was not her; however this lady looked so much like my aunt that tears instantly welled in my eyes.  I watched as she walked down the aisle across from me, and then made her way back towards me. As she approached I spoke to her, telling her she looked just like my favorite aunt, saying she'd recently passed away. The lady said she was sorry. To which I assured her that her resemblance was a good thing, then asked for a hug. I think it's safe to say my emotions got the best of me. Thankfully this complete stranger did not see anything wrong with my request and complied. We chatted for several moments before she continued on her way. Moments later my husband, came in to check on me. I told him what had happened, and before I could point the lady out, he found her. She returned and spoke with the two of us, My husband agreed that this lady not only looked like my aunt, she sounded like her and had the same mannerisms. As crazy as it sounds I feel the lady was sent there that day to help heal my heart. It was good seeing  "Aunt Dianna" once more and watching her walk around the room. Maybe it is because my "real" Aunt Dianna has been in a wheelchair in recent years. I feel as though this was my aunt's way of letting me know she's doing okay. More than that, her way of letting me know that I'm going to be okay too. As of this writing, things finally seem to be returning to normal. The boxes are unpacked, my office is officially put together,  the husband is settling into his new job and on the road to recovery. The new house is fantastic, the view even better, and while I still miss my aunt I know she is near. Sometimes near enough to touch. 


#hugfromastranger #dearlydeparted #Pennsylvania #healthyheart  

My most memorable date was with a man I'll refer to as LB.  It was late in my sixteenth year, LB was three years older than I. LB was hot and had an even hotter car- a red and white sixties model  Ford Fairlane. I was ecstatic when he asked me to go out with him-my girlfriends were going to be so jealous!  

On the way to the movie I decided LB might not be all I expected him to be. Maybe that was because he showed up in a red suit that matched his car-one that was specially made just for him.  Or maybe it was the white blousy shirt and matching scarf.  Okay, it was the late seventies, so maybe not all that crazy to some.  However, to me it was clear that LB was very into himself, and REALLY loved his car. By the time we reached the movie theater it was raining. LB gathered his umbrella, shielding HIS head as we walked towards the building. Once inside, the first thing he did was check to make certain he had not gotten his hair wet. I honestly cannot remember what movie we watched, hopefully he sprang for popcorn so the evening wasn't a total loss, again I do not recall.

By the time the movie let out the rain had passed, but small puddles still pooled in the parking lot. Once inside the car LB turned the key, but the engine refused to start. To my utter delight LB then had to scoot under the car to fix whatever it was that kept it from starting, so much for him not getting wet.  I wonder if he was able to hear the giggles that escaped me, as I heard him banging on the undercarriage of the car.

While he was not happy, he did shake it off, and stay in good spirits for the drive home. At one point he commented to me that I did not need to sit so far away. A comment I pretended not to hear.  It was a bench seat and I had pressed myself against the passenger door, having no desire to get any closer than necessary during the drive home.  Something good did come of that night, as LB taught me a cute limerick on the way home. Funny, I still remember how it goes.  Be warned, it's not for the faint of heart.

 I'm standing over my dead dog Rover that I overran with the mower.

One leg is missing the other is gone.

 One leg is scattered all over the lawn.

I'm standing over my dead dog Rover that I overran with the mower.

What a memorable ending to my date with the hot guy...Thanks for the memories LB. 

This morning I was sitting in the waiting room at my doctor's office when I saw something that piqued my interest on social media. It was a post stating that Krispy Kreme was selling a dozen donuts for the unheard of sum of .77 cents. Now up until that particular moment I did not even want a donut, much less twelve of them. But then I remembered I had to drive right past the Krispy Kreme store on my way home. At that moment I knew that I would be stopping. Upon posting and sharing on Facebook I also found out that while the deal was correct, there was a slight catch. In order to purchase a dozen donuts for the special price, you must pay full price for a second dozen. This meant that my twelve donuts just became twenty-four. What on earth was I going to do with twenty-four donuts? Eat them is the logical answer, but not the best answer. Seriously, I rarely allow myself that luxury, and when I do, I normally share a single donut with my hubby, just to help lessen the ill effects. So, while common sense dictated that I forgo the guilty pleasures,  the bargain hunter in me fought traffic and finally found an illegal parking place on the street, well away from the buildings own parking lot. I skirted thru traffic, hopped the ditch, making my way through the sea of cars, and safely into the building. There I was met with a long line of people waiting their turn to order the tasty treats. The line wrapped around the entire inside of the building and yet I did not see a single person stick their head in the door, access the crowd and turn away. No, we were all in this together, all seeking to take part of that wonderful deal. As I neared the counter the woman on the business side of the counter called out that they were all out of chocolate glazed. This really irritated the gentleman in front of me who belted out a rant about how that was his sole purpose in coming here. You would have thought the man would have left after hearing the news. I mean since they were out of what he proclaimed at being his sole purpose and all, but as the line moved forward so did he.  A deal is a deal after all, even if it's not the deal you wanted. Twenty-three minutes after I walked into the building I left with two dozen original donuts, which cost me just over eight dollars, and still had no idea what I was going to do with them.  

I thought I had found my answer when driving home and realized I was speeding. I just smiled and glanced at the boxes of donuts. Sadly, I mean fortunately, I didn't have a chance to see if it was a cliché or if in fact police officers really do like donuts...  

On my way home I had to stop and pick up a prescription. Even though my doctor had wired it in nearly an hour prior to my arrival the prescription was not ready. This was not the first time; it happens this way each time. It is the pharmacy's version of the .77 cent dozen. They give you fifteen minutes to shop while you wait; knowing that in most cases in that fifteen minutes you will find something you simply cannot live without. These things, the freebees, the discounts, the fifteen minute waits are all brilliant marketing ploys set forth by the industry to real us in. It works too, just look at me.  I'm a prime example, as I write, I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do with the twenty-THREE donuts that are now sitting on my counter. *Burp*  

Today's crazy post of the day... This morning when driving to the Y, I was following behind a vehicle which was traveling way below the posted speed limit. For nearly a mile I followed at speeds sometimes as low as 25 in a 35. As soon as the road opened up, and gave way to a second lane I shot past the SUV. The driver, a woman, was on her cell phone and oblivious to the string of cars traveling behind her. After I passed I eased back into the lane she was in and continued along my way. I turned onto Battlefield. She followed, keeping her distance once again blocking the way of those traveling behind her. As it turned out she was heading to the same place as I, pulling in several moments later with her phone still glued to her ear. I sat in my truck for several moments telling myself to behave. I watched as she parked, and walked through the parking lot, in front of a moving car, still chatting on her phone. I resisted the urge to say something to her, figuring nothing good would have come of the "discussion." Moments later we were in the same locker room. By now she'd ended her call and still I debated speaking with her. I'm not really sure what I wanted to say, but her actions had rubbed me the wrong way. Turns out she was going to the pool, now I was really going to have to say something. I mean if she couldn't drive then no way was she going to stay out of my way in the pool. Luckily, for both of us, she went to the lap pool instead of the therapy pool, so no discussion was necessary. I was in "my" pool still fuming when it dawned on me I was allowing this woman's actions to ruin my morning. Why? Because she made me late to the pool? It wasn't like I was in a hurry to begin with. Truth be told, I was only upset because she wasn't paying attention. So I told myself to get over it and lose the negativity. As I did this the woman's locker room door opened. It does that on occasion, when people push the button, but there was no one standing there. From my vantage point I could see there was no one on the inside of the locker room waiting to exit either. The door simply opened and closed seemingly on its own. I laughed to myself thinking that it was the negativity leaving the building... It just goes to show that if someone pisses you off you can keep it bottled up and let it dictate how your day is going to go. Or, you can send it packing and allow yourself to find something to make you smile. In my case letting go of my anger showed that when one door closed the other one opened, this time in a very literal way... thought for the day, let go of your anger and find something to make you smile!

It is common for me to have four plus storylines going at any given time. I am  often given new ideas when I am in the middle of working on something. When that happens I will open a folder within my future storyline file and jot down any information which is given to me. Normally doing so will do the trick, and that voice will back off and wait its turn. When I finish working on a manuscript and am ready to begin another, I will open my future storyline file and read through until something pulls at me. Sometimes it takes a few days or even weeks of my working on several manuscripts before one takes the lead. When that happens I lock the others back into place and focus on the lead storyline. Occasionally during this process one or more of the other voices will pop in and give me something important that pertains to their storyline. Rarely will this happen during normal writing hours, it is often during off  times, after I have finished for the day. The information I receive is never ambiguous.   I always know exactly which story the information goes with, so,  I am able to take the information and stick it into the folder for which it was intended. That is why my current WIP is so perplexing. Because, even though my time travel voice is speaking the loudest, and demanding to be next, the stuff it gives me is so erratic.  The voice will give me information, good information, I will take it and run with it, and then the next thing I know it is like, yea that is good, but what  do you think about this? I have never worked with a voice that has been so indecisive. Normally the information given is clear and concise. It makes me wonder, is this particular  voice new to the "voice community." A rookie, so to speak, and simply having trouble focusing, or does this indecisive voice have ADD? Can voices have ADD?  I have been working on this storyline since mid August 2013 and have had to revamp the beginning several times so that the story could go in a different direction. The poor heroine has undergone three name changes, although I am fairly confident that the last one is permanent. I also thought I knew what was going to happen when she goes back in time, but that scenario changes frequently.  It is almost as if my voices are all sitting around a table discussing the manuscript and one of them pitched a new idea that they all liked better. Or, if this current voice is a rookie, maybe he took what he had to the experts who were like, well that is good, but what do you think of this? Maybe there is a simpler explanation. Could it be that the issue is with time travel itself? Maybe the voices have to keep popping back in time to make sure the storyline is meshing the way it needs to.  I am not sure,  but the story is  fun and unique, with an introvert heroine who decides to be a princess for a day. The Navy SEAL hero suffering from PTSD, who  tries to capture her heart.  A pocket size beagles with a full size attitude (once real, they are now a thing of the past) time travel, lost souls and pirates. While my voice may be indecisive he/she has some awesome ideas!

In the beginning I felt that my new suspense novel, Surviving the Storm, was going to be a trilogy. Then, as I was writing, I started second guessing myself. So in the end I tied it all up in one complete manuscript.  Later, when speaking to one of my Beta  readers (pre-readers), she said she thought I should end it (at the point I'd originally planned) and have a sequel. As soon as she said this I could almost feel my voices doing the happy dance. It was like a weight, that I hadn't even knew existed,  was lifted  from my shoulders. The feeling told me my voices were pleased. I guess they have more faith in me than I sometimes have in myself. Actually I should qualify, they have more faith in their ability, I am only the vessel with which they work. So my mind immediately started racing  with the possibilities. I e-mailed my editor, who was at that time reading the STS manuscript, and asked "what if we were to end it at the end of said chapter?" I explained that I had originally thought it a trilogy. The next thing I knew she e-mailed me back saying, " you're right it should be a trilogy." Wait! That was not what I'd just suggested. Still at reading that, my voices were literally cheering inside my head. They had gotten their way. They'd gotten their trilogy! So, as the manuscript moved forward towards becoming a book and we got to the cover design, I agreed to the trilogy. I was a bit frightened. as I had a beginning, book one. I also have an ending, book three (which is well underway) but I had no idea what was going to happen in book two. I mentioned that fact to the beta reader who had pushed me in this direction in the first place and after going back and forth over several possibilities she said three little words that sent chills running up along my spine. It was the perfect way to continue on to the second book. While I wish I could share what she said, it would be a total spoiler, and I hate spoilers! Just be certain that there is indeed a book two being disclosed to me, and the voices are pleased with the direction the story is heading, chatting away merrily, giving me fodder for my manuscript. I realize all this talk about hearing voices may sound crazy to some, okay to most, but if crazy means writing some really cool stuff, I'll take crazy any day! What more can I say, I have some wickedly good voices!

SURVIVING THE STORM , Book #1 of the Storm Trilogy, was released, Friday, June 13, 2014. Have you acquired your copy yet?

I recently stumbled upon these words written by Author Julie Beck, "Writing chose me. It was never a lifelong dream of mine to write a book, nor did I wake up one morning and say, "I think I'll write the next greatest novel." Nope, I never had any intensions of writing a book until a baby robin (Russell) was placed in my front yard. After writing, Hangin' Out with Russell, I chose writing, right back." 

I was floored by her words. I guess I never thought of this way before. Now that I've read those words, I can honestly say that writing chose me too! It was never my dream to be an author. I did not grow up thinking someday I will write a book. Honestly it was never even offered as an option. Sure I liked to write poetry and letters, but a novel. Not this girl. That was something "smart people" did.  Then one day I had this crazy thought in which I would do something for a friend.  She was going through some things and I told her I was going to write her a happy ending. What I thought was going to be a silly short story, soon became what would eventually be my first novel.  The story developed a life of its own,  took off on a direction that I never saw coming and started me on a journey that most people only dream about. I did not set out to become an author, I was given a gift.  A gift,  that I'm eternally grateful for.  I'm so very glad that writing chose me! 

Friday March 28th

Today was the Navy Gator Ball. Since  I did not  want to go to such a formal event sporting a skunk stripe I booked an appointment with my stylist. She fixed my hair and then used the Bumble and Bumble temporary color spray to spray my head. The stuff covers very well and I was happy with the results. Fast forward nine hours later after arriving home from the ball. The color felt heavy and thick and I wanted it off of my head.  I am one to wash my face before I get in the shower, not sure why, it is just something I've always done. Imagine my surprise when I lifted my bangs to put my headband on and my entire forehead was  deep  black! Luckily this could not be seen under my  bangs. I attempt to wash my face and my hands become a black, gooey, sudsy mess. Okay plan B. I move to the shower to finish. Once in the shower I wash my face then proceed to scrub my scalp. Now I have deep black streaks rolling down my torso. It takes several  application of shampoo to get the "temporary color" out of my hair. As I scrubbed I realized how close to disaster I had actually come.  You see the forecast called for rain, which thankfully held off for the duration of our outing, but can you imagine how devastating it would have been to have arrived at the ball with black streaks  seeping down my face...

I'm glad things ended well. The rain held off and I have this awesome picture with my wonderful hubby, which will probably be the last official picture of me with dark hair.

Smile and enjoy life's journey, I know I sure am!