Did I mention how many dogs we have? My mother had four when she passed away—two Yorkies and two Shelties. My dd has two Jack Russels, a German shepherd, an Anatolian shepherd, a pit bull mix, and a Great Pyrenees. Needless to say, it’s been interesting blending our family dogs.
We thought we had it managed. The two largest dogs, the Pyrenees, and the Anatolian were thrown into the pasture with the horses, with the barn cracked open for them to sleep in the hay. Well, this morning, one of them was missing.
Of course, we wondered whether a horse had killed him. So, my dd and the 15-year-old male walked the property, looking in any hollow, behind every tree for a body. Then we found a section of fence that was bent beneath a fallen tree and figured he might have escaped. They drove down the highway, into a neighboring subdivision, but no Troy.
Then my dd’s old neighbors said they saw a large tan dog lounging on her old front porch…
Gah. A morning consumed worried about the dog. No more pasture. Now, we have a menagerie of animals in our large front yard. I feel for anyone who comes through the gate.
It’s lunchtime, and I decided to make myself persona non grata, so I could have some peace and quiet. How did I accomplish that? 🙂
I have cups of kimchi soup. A cup of soup type thing, only with kimchi spices. If you aren’t familiar with Korean food, kimchi is heavy on the garlic and fermented—so super stinky. My dear brother gifted me with a jar of the fresh, fermented stuff, so I added that to the top of my noodle cup. It’s soooo fragrant everyone complained, so here I am—alone at my desk. Before too long, the smell of garlic will seep from my pores. Guaranteed isolation.
Do you think they will catch on? Do you have a favorite stinky food?
Hey there! It’s Tuesday morning. Some of you are heading to your polling places. I voted yesterday and wore my “I Voted” sticker proudly for the entire day and evening. Other news on the homefront—the soon-to-be 16-year-old male passed his written driving test. I don’t know whether to shout “Yay!” or shudder. 🙂 He still has problems with turns (too wide or too short). We took the fam out to Pizza Hut last night to celebrate.
We don’t need big excuses for celebrations. We love a family party. Some of my favorite annual parties are the pool parties, the Ugly Christmas Sweater party, the New Year’s Eve party (complete with sparkling grape juice), the Sharknado movie night party…alas, that one won’t be coming around again, so we’ll have to find another B-movie event to celebrate.
This picture was from an Ugly Christmas Sweater Party a couple of years back (taken in the 15-year-old’s bedroom with her fairy lights in the background). You can’t really see it, but my sweater has Jack Skellington skulls from The Nightmare Before Christmas all over it.
We love to make finger foods for celebratory dinners—a table filled with meatballs, cheeses, cut fruit and veggies, hummus and crackers, etc. We gorge while we play a movie or dance to music. The kids love it. They invite friends to our weird event nights, and then those kids keep in touch because they want to come for the next one! My dd was gifted with a Raclette, so any night we decide to cook the dinner at the table using it is a party!
So, for a chance to win a free short story (I’ll choose 2 winners!), tell me what sort of celebrations you all like to have. Do you make big deals out of small things or fun things?
A. Catherine Noon here, author and textile artist. Thank you so much to Delilah for hosting me today! I’m glad to be back.
I don’t know about you, but the pace of life seems much faster than it ever has before. And I’m definitely struggling with burnout.
This beautiful boy above is a golden eagle, who lives at the Northwest Trek wildlife preserve in Washington State. He’s got a problem with his wings, but he’s fierce and beautiful.
One of the suggestions for recovering from burnout is rest. I’m not sure I have any suggestions for how to rest, but the zoo is one of my experiments. I left my ringer off for the visit, though I did use my camera on the phone for a few shots. For the most part, though, I tried playing with my digital SLR camera, a Nikon CoolPix.
My next experiment is to take a course on Bluprint in Digital Photography, so I can get better at using the camera.
For most of the day yesterday, I didn’t think about anything besides wandering around the wildlife preserve with my husband. I didn’t worry about politics, work, or any of the stressors that plague daily life.
If you are reading this and have suffered any kind of trauma or major stressors, know this: you are not alone. Resting is not a weakness, and getting help is not stupid. Mental health is health, and we need to end the stigma. And writers are as prone as anyone to having challenges with mental health. The frustrating thing for me is that I’m at the point now where my personal issues are not reached by words, by writing. They’re deeper, pre-verbal. Image-based.
And so, I play with my camera and fiddle around with collage. I remember Delilah talking about her doodling, and I’ve watched that avidly. It seems like a fun way to engage some of the same parts of the brain.
What about you, Dear Reader? What are some of your favorite ways to de-stress?
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
– E.E. Cummings
It’s release day!! Yes, my story, Brian released yesterday—but not because I was trying to get out ahead of everybody else. I was simply calendar-challenged when I selected my date. I thought I’d chosen a Tuesday. Which is really kind of stupid, because KDP gives you a little calendar to look at when you choose your date, but I had the 24th in my brain, so the 24th it would be.
Anyways, lots of great books to celebrate today: Mine (ahem, Brian), my sister Elle Jame’s (SEAL’s Vow), and the one I’m featuring here today, written by my friend and fab author, Reina Torres!
From Fab Friend & Author Reina Torres
Part of the challenge of setting a Romance in the early 1970s was giving it a different feel from the modern-day. The book didn’t qualify as a “historical” in the book sense, but since I was setting it back almost fifty years in the past, there were certain things that brought me back into the early 70s: Clothes and Music.
Clothes were fun: terrycloth, corduroy, denims—and all the fun that went along with those fabrics.
Music was a little more of a challenge…
I was born in 1973, and my mother has often told me that I sang before I spoke. I’m guessing she means in complete phrases or sentences, but she just repeats the same stories over and over. My mom and dad both worked for the United States Postal Service, so I think you can safely say that I’m a Postal Child. 🙂
My dad worked the day shift, and my mom worked the graveyard shift. So when my dad headed off in the morning to go to work, he’d put me in the passenger seat (remember, it’s the 70s), laid back and wrapped up in my favorite blanket. He’d put the radio on for the drive into downtown Honolulu, heading straight to the post office where my mother worked. She’d get in the driver’s seat, and my dad would climb in the back, and we’d drop him off at work before my mom turned toward home.
I’d doze the way there and back, singing to the radio the entire time to songs like this one…
When I started writing Jesse, I did a little brainstorming on the earliest songs I could remember, and then came the reality check while going through the songs and checking to see which ones were in the right time period and which came after 1973-1974. With a couple of “oops” choices, I actually managed to put together a list of songs that helped take me back in time.
Much like Richard Collier in the movie Somewhere in Time, surrounding myself with the music of the era helped take me back in time for the book. So, I hope you’ll enjoy a little trip back in time to see how Jesse Sutton and Etta Bradford met and fell in love.
The rest of the series will be the stories of their children as they continue The Suttons – An American Legacy.
The instant he said it, he tensed, expecting to feel her hand across his cheek.
When she didn’t, he gave her a curious look, doubling down on his stupidity, and a moment later he wished that she had cracked him across his jaw. It would have been better than the way her expression crumbled as she took a step back, breaking the hold he had on her hand, and her shoulders sagged.
He was an ass. That was clear.
What he needed to do was apologize.
Quickly.
But all the words he needed to say were stuck somewhere in the back of his mind along with the sense that should have helped him keep his mouth shut in the first place.
“I’ve been kissed before!”
What?
That wasn’t what he asked.
Not by a long shot.
But, then again, her answer was just as telling.
He wasn’t just an ass. He let his mouth get way ahead of his brain. A fucking stampede ahead of the stage.
“I’m not talking about the playground, Etta. I’m talking about a kiss.” His voice had dipped dangerously low, vibrating through him like a tuning fork and making him just as hard.
He took a step closer.
Etta countered by taking a step back. They danced that way across the sidewalk until he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her.
Against the wall.
She knew it too. Her palms flattened against the wall at her sides and her shoulders pushed back. She raised her gaze up to meet his as if she was trying to tell him that she wasn’t nervous, but he saw the way her breathing shallowed, her skin flushed, and her lips parted as he moved even closer.
And he continued until the toes of his boots were almost nudging the tips of her shoes. He raked his gaze up over her feet, the hem of her dress, over the tantalizing rise and fall of her breasts and back up along the flushed skin of her chest, neck, and face.
He lifted a hand and gently touched her cheek. “First,” he smiled at her, “one, or both people, have to move their nose out of the way. So, we’ll go with both here.” He put the tiniest bit of pressure on her cheek and tilted her head a little bit. “Next, we’ll keep teeth out of it, unless you want to bite a lip… that could be fun.”
She swallowed and he swore he could hear the soft sound echoing off the thick concrete walls. “Is that all?”
“All?”
Etta nodded, but he didn’t see the motion, he could only feel it against his fingertips. “The rules?”
The corner of his mouth lifted and he leaned in closer, bracing his free hand on the wall just above her shoulder. “Those aren’t rules, Etta. Just a few things to make it easier.”
“Easier?” She echoed the word with a tight, breathy voice. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t,” he sighed and trailed the hand against her cheek into her hair, enjoying the feeling of it against his skin, “but I’m going to show you.”
She blinked up at him. “Okay.”
If she didn’t stop looking at him like a sacrificial lamb, he was going to lose his mind.
“There’s a time and place for hard kisses, sweetheart.”
Etta nodded as if she was making a note in her head. So beautiful and if he was any judge, innocent in so many ways.
“But tonight,” he moved closer until his lips were close enough to hers to feel the heat of her skin, “we’re going to start with gentle.”
“Gentle…” her lips were so damn close and he could hear the curious plea in her tone, “okay.”
He couldn’t wait another moment. He touched his lips to hers and felt her tense. He waited until her body eased into the sensation before he moved away.
Her eyes fluttered open. And she looked into his eyes as her brow pinched ever so slightly.
He smiled at the curious question he saw in her eyes. “What is it, Etta?”
She swayed closer. “Was that… all?”
“You want more?”
She opened her lips to answer and he swept in to kiss her again. Press in closer until he could feel the way her lips pressed back against his. Plump. Plush. Made for this. Made for him.
Contest
Pick your favorite song from my list above, and I’ll select a random person to win a download of Jesse!
I love Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein II musicals. I grew up watching them as movies on television. While not all their storylines have held up over time, I’m still moved by songs like “Something Wonderful”, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught”. I am grateful to this prolific team for their heartfelt lyrics and beautiful music, but my deepest thanks goes to R&H for introducing me to Juanita Hall.
Growing up in the sixties, I hungered for images of Black women on the silver screen whom I could name and admire. R&H let me see a Black actress strut her stuff in some of the earliest examples of casting without regard to race.
Hall had been performing on Broadway since 1930. She even took a turn at directing in 1936. By the time R&H cast her in 1949’s South Pacific, she’d performed in no less than eight Broadway plays including Green Pastures and St. Louis Woman. R&H decided they needed someone with the voice and acting chops to bring the character of the Pacific Islander Bloody Mary to life. Juanita Hall filled the bill. She reprised the role in the 1958 film, although I have to listen to the original Broadway cast album to hear her sing “Bali H’ai”. In 1958, R&H used her in a second instance of casting despite race. She created the role of Madame Liang in Flower Drum Song. Hall recreated her role for the movie in 1961.
For a Black kid growing up in the East New York section of Brooklyn, knowing this Black woman wouldn’t be pigeonholed because of her race was inspirational. I like to think there’s a bit of Hall in One Breath Away‘s Mary Hamilton, a woman hemmed in by society’s expectations, but with the potential to break through them if given the chance. Besides her stage and film career, Hall cut albums, performed in nightclubs and directed choruses and choirs. You can learn more about her here: https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/hall-juanita-1901-1968/.
Nowadays those movies are critiqued for not hiring someone of Pacific Islander or Chinese background to play these roles, and rightly so. It hurts to see someone not of your race or ethnicity representing you. Boys and girls of all races need role models in whom they can see themselves and be proud of the way I was able to see myself in and be proud of Juanita Hall. I can’t ignore or minimize the wounding caused by casting a Black woman to portray someone of another race. The pros and cons of this “colorblind” approach are passionately debated. What I can do is celebrate that in 1949, by casting Hall in a musical whose plot revolves around race prejudice, R&H helped make Black History. Juanita Hall not only won the 1950 Tony for her role but, by doing so, became the first African American ever to win a Tony award.
One Breath Away
Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.
Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.
“Because someone like you only looks at someone like me out of pity.”
Of course. His aunt put him up to this. Anger warmed Mary’s ears.
“Let me go.” She made to pull away. “I want to sit.”
“Please. Not before the music stops.” He timed his plea to the rhythm of the waltz. “I’ve waited all week for this moment.”
Mary gritted her teeth. Heart hurt joined her injured pride. She needed no one’s charity.
“That was cruel of you, sir. No one counts the days until they can ask me for a dance.” Tears pooled behind her closed eyelids. “Anyone in town could tell you that.”
The grip on her hand tightened, forcing her eyes open. The light in his gaze darkened. “Anyone who’d lie to me like that would be taking their life in their hands.” He leaned in so his mouth nuzzled her ear again. “And if you use that I’m-not-worthy tone of voice again, I’ll be forced to prove you wrong with a kiss.”
Alarm shuddered up Mary’s back. “Is—is that a threat?”
“A certainty.”
A chilly thrill replaced the alarm. She blew out a breath to steady herself. Threat or certainty, both treated her to a delicious revelation—she wanted that kiss. She eyed his lips, imagined their soft yet demanding press against hers. Once more the voice of caution repeated its warning.
Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
Oh, to be forced to flee from such a devil as he. She sighed. What a wonderful problem to have.
Hello all and many thanks for Delilah for having me on her blog.
February is the month of love…and Valentine’s Day, and chocolate!
Did you know there’s a stimulant in chocolate called Theobromine (spell and/or say that twice) a bitter alkaloid found in cocoa and chocolate that affects the central nervous system to release endorphins for pleasure? Incidentally, it’s also the ‘cousin’ to my other favorite stimulant: caffeine. A match made in stimulant heaven.
Sign me up!
In the quaint town of Havenport Rhode Island, the fictional backdrop of my stories, there’s a shop and bakery called Led Zeppoli. In almost all of my stories, I mention the bakery’s famous chocolate croissants and exotic blends of coffee. Caffeine fuels my creative genius…well maybe not genius, but it certainly helps me come up with ideas and stay awake.
Led Zeppoli is a play on words between a certain famous four-member English rock group from the sixties and another decadent treat: the Italian zeppole. Ah yes, the zeppole, a fried dough cookie covered in massive amounts of powdered sugar.
Have you ever tried one? No? Well then get to getting because they are heaven in a greasy bag.
Where I grew up in Staten Island, NY was a popular pizza place called Pizza Town, which was located in walking distance from my high school. Besides the best pizza on the planet, Pizza Town sold zeppole and man, oh, man were they delicious. When you opened the white paper bag the powdered sugar puffed a white cloud of sweet goodness into your face.
Many days after school, I would “hang out” with friends at Pizza Town. It’s where I groused about homework and boys, prom dates, and how much Aquanet we put in our hair. Yes, it was the eighties after all. And it’s where I had many conversations with my high school crush who was tragically unaware of my deep-rooted feelings for him. Incidentally, we are still friends but sadly, the old building that was Pizza Town was torn down years ago.
Good memories, indeed.
What makes you get up and go? Coffee? Tea? Soda? All three have caffeine and I find the older I get the more I need something to help me start my day.
One lucky commenter will be chosen at random
and win a $10 Dunkin gift card.
Rescuing the Ranger
Now onto my latest release: The hero and heroine in my latest story, Rescuing the Ranger are Gabe Preston and Francesca Montefiore. Francesca grew up in Little Italy, NYC and now lives in Havenport and owns the florist shop. She loves the small town, which reminds her of the old neighborhood she left behind. When she volunteers her time to help write letters to the troops, she finds an unexpected connection to Havenport and one sexy, former Army Ranger, Gabe who’s in for a visit. And, when her past comes back to haunt her, Gabe comes to the rescue.
Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite…
God, she hated making him feel any kind of stress. As much as this connection of theirs felt like a million bucks from the first correspondence, in her heart she knew it would cost him. Getting close to anyone again was dangerous. For him and for her.
How Pete had found her was anyone’s guess.
“Look, Gabe. You said it yourself, you’re decompressing after those tours of duty and I…” She stopped, shaking her head, wanting to warn him away. “I’ll destroy you.”
Her voice broke from exhaustion and worry and…damn it, caring and concern for him stuck in her throat. “My past will eventually annihilate this friendship we’ve built with our letters. It’s best if you don’t get mixed up in it, believe me. That’s one of the reasons I never sent you the email. You don’t deserve it.”
She felt compelled to warn him. Hell, he’d survived war as a Ranger, and she wasn’t about to be the person to bring him harm, not when Adele needed him.
His eyes widened before he let out a cynical laugh.
“You? Destroy me?” He crowded her, pushing her back and against the bedpost. His hands wound around her waist, but she couldn’t look up at him, so she fixated on the perfect vee between his pecks. “That’s not possible. My bike helmet weighs more than you.”
“Not physically,” she whispered. “Here, and here.” Frankie finally glanced up and traced his creased temple with her index finger before flattening her palm on his shirt above his heart. God, he was so solid. It would be easy to lean in and borrow his strength. “I know you went through something traumatic back in Afghanistan. I can tell. Those puckers on your hands feel like burns.” At her words, his face paled. “And, you don’t need more strife.”
He closed his eyes for a second and his jaw locked. “You’re so fucking sweet-natured.” He caressed the side of her cheek. She wanted to melt into his touch.
“Don’t you worry about me, and this isn’t just a friendship. You feel it. Don’t deny it. We’re good together, baby. And believe me, you can’t destroy me. Truth is—you kinda saved me.”
Get your copy of Rescuing the Ranger on Amazon. Available in Kindle Unlimited, too: https://amzn.to/2RstmrF
Have a fantastic February filled with love and lots of chocolate and coffee!
Did I mention how many dogs we have? My mother had four when she passed away—two Yorkies and two Shelties. My dd has two Jack Russels, a German shepherd, an Anatolian shepherd, a pit bull mix, and a Great Pyrenees. Needless to say, it’s been interesting blending our family dogs.
Hall had been performing on Broadway since 1930. She even took a turn at directing in 1936. By the time R&H cast her in 1949’s South Pacific, she’d performed in no less than eight Broadway plays including Green Pastures and St. Louis Woman. R&H decided they needed someone with the voice and acting chops to bring the character of the Pacific Islander Bloody Mary to life. Juanita Hall filled the bill. She reprised the role in the 1958 film, although I have to listen to the original Broadway cast album to hear her sing “Bali H’ai”. In 1958, R&H used her in a second instance of casting despite race. She created the role of Madame Liang in Flower Drum Song. Hall recreated her role for the movie in 1961.
February is the month of love…and Valentine’s Day, and chocolate!
