Thank you, Delilah, for having me. Your support and encouragement have made all the difference.
MY LIFE IS OUT OF CONTROL —
NO, IT’S THE FIRE NEXT DOOR!
Whew! What a whirlwind life can be.
Like so many other unfortunate souls who’ve crashed and burned in recent times, we’ve known what it’s like to go from rags to riches, and then lose it all. Three years of teetering on the edge, I’m finally beginning to get the feeling back in my legs. Long story short, we’re starting over.
We used to think success, and therefore happiness, was gleaned from what we’ve acquired—things. Life is about so much more. Meaningful elements like love, good health, and honest friendships are greater gifts than anything money can buy.
I’m sitting in the cozy comfort of our friends’ tiny bungalow writing this post, and I couldn’t be more content.
Of course, having two steady paychecks calms the nerves a bit, too. 
My latest story was inspired by a fiery event next door. The adjacent property owner raises chickens, roosters, rabbits, cats, dogs and God only knows what else on his small parcel of wooded land. He doesn’t live there, just comes and tends his animals and fiddles around the place.
A couple of psychedelically painted sheds and a dilapidated lean-to give the small compound a 1960s hippie flair. And the long-haired, gray-bearded loner in the jeep only feeds into the conclusion that he’s not all there. He sets fires and burn things.
One afternoon, I thought I smelled our friend’s barbequing out back. You’d think I’d be able to tell the difference between someone grilling food and a brush fire. Come to think of it, maybe I’m not all there either!
But anyway, the fire flamed out of control and the woods caught on fire. There are houses all around, set on five and ten-acre parcels with lots of trees. The possibilities were devastating.
The men in our group were all down at the barn (their man-cave) drinking beer, when my female friend next door came banging on my door screaming, “The fire is out of control!”
My heart dropped to my stomach. “You mean you’re not barbecuing?” I probably had my mind on a story. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.
I stepped into my flip-flops, grabbed my purse and keys, jumped in my car and called my husband down at the barn. He assured me we were fine. The fire department was on the way.
About that time, the big red fire truck came barreling down the long dirt drive and my heart began to calm. We dropped the tailgate of one of the pickup trucks and sat like idiots watching the delicious firefighters put out the fire. There actually was a yummy fire investigator, to which my friend said, “There’s your next hero, Joyce.”
And Familiar Flame was born…
A contemporary erotic romance
Warning: This story contains sexually explicit content, including anal play and the use of erotic toys.
Brandy rushes to release her neighbor’s pets when an unattended fire rages out of control, only to be confronted by a disgruntled fire-cop who vows to teach her a lesson in self-preservation.
Fire Inspector, Lucas Martin, arrives at the chaotic scene of a fire gone wild, and learns the sexy neighbor narrowly escaped her own demise while rescuing an irresponsible property owner’s animals.
As Lucas returns Brandy to her home next door, he discovers real meaning behind the phrase: Keep the flame burning.
