Thursday, August 29, 2013

23 Skidoo

Here's a bit of trivia for Thursday.
Are you familiar with the term '23 Skidoo'? It's American slang for 'getting out while the getting's good', skedaddling, or being forced to leave quickly.
The story originated around the triangular-shaped Flatiron Building at Madison Square. The shape of the building and its location to the park caused a wind-tunnel affect. In the early 1900's, men would hang out to watch women's skirts blow up, exposing their ankles and legs, when they walked by.The constables would come by and disperse the men. Hence, 23 skidoo.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Sacrificial Fern

Let's have a brief moment of silence for my poor fern that was sacrificed to the bird's nest. I haven't watered it in weeks, afraid I'd disturb mom and ruin eggs or drown babies. Even though we've got bird droppings on the porch, there's been no animated sounds coming from the fern and the eggs are way past the hatching point. The last time I checked the nest, mom shot out of there in a twitter so I've left it alone. I got up my nerve yesterday and peaked inside. No mom. No Babies.There'd been a nest built over the old nest and instead of four eggs there was one. My best guess: A cowbird removed the little wren's eggs and left one of hers but Mama Wren was too smart to dupe and deserted the nest. You got to admit those cowbird's have taken adoption to a whole new level. Lay the egg and get someone else to raise the offspring. Anyway...that's my theory and I'm sticking to it:)
The Sacrificial Fern

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

The Butler

We went to see The Butler this weekend.

I fall for period piece trailers and end up in a movie that doesn't leave me all warm and fuzzy when I walk out. I'm a fantasy girl. I like feel-goods or hair-raising adventure. In other words escapism. Lets face it, while real life can be great, it can also be grim. So while I'm not sorry I saw it, both the hh and I agreed if we had a do-over, we probably wouldn't have seen it.

It's truly a superb movie. The acting is wonderful. The storyline is in depth. I look for both the movie and the actors to be up for awards. But its centered around a brutal time in our history. To quote the hh, 'we lived through that hurtful experience. I'd just as soon not be reminded of it'. And hurtful is a good way to describe what Americans did to other Americans. Its almost beyond belief. How can anyone treat another human being like that? Especially people that claim to be God fearing Americans.

 I know every country has its share of brutality, but you always want yours to be the exception. Unfortunately, we're not.

 Did you see it? What were your thoughts? Again, it was an emotional, in depth, wonderfully acted movie. It's just more realism than I like to deal with. Though, realism is not necessarily a bad thing.

 Oh, and did you see where a former Korean war vet who trained Vietnam fighter pilots is refusing to show it in his theatre because Jane Fonda is in it and her stance on the Vietnam war? For more information:

Monday, August 26, 2013

Done and Done

Thanks for forwarding the pic, Ryan.
I finished my WIP today. And its only taken forever.  It's off to a few kind souls who have agreed to be readers and then to my agent. While, I'm waiting for responses, I'm going to convert Shardai to paper.  Gosh I feel so industrious. grin.
I ran across another quotable. This one was from Sue Grafton's 'C' Is For Corpse. "I'm not a process person. I like goals and closure, the arrival instead of the journey itself." Can't you relate with that? Whether you're writing, sewing, cooking, or reading a good book, aren't you excited to start and impatient to finish? I know I am.
So what's on your agenda? Have you finished an 'its taken forever project?
Oh, and by the way, may your Monday pass quickly:)

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Thursday: Shameless Self-Promotion Day

The fog rose off the dirty pavement and trailed through the night in thick sensuous wisps. Light from streetlamps turned the furled gray haze a grimy yellow. A dog howled, the lonely sound absorbed by the heavy mist.
The man roamed the near-empty streets. From habit, he pulled up his collar. He never felt the cold.
As he passed an alley, a scream rose before it ended on a muffled squawk. In a blur of motion, he entered the dark narrow space. He stood a hair’s breadth behind three thugs and their victim.  His fine-tuned senses took in everything at once.
From the blood on the face of one of the men, the woman wasn’t as delicate as she appeared. Tall and slender, blonde shoulder-length hair flew in mad disarray around a fine-boned face. But she’d already lost the fight. One man gripped her arm, her other hung limply at her side. Another male had her head yanked back by her hair with one hand, the other clamped across her mouth. Blood dripped between his fingers. The third ripped at her clothes.
She kicked out with both feet and caught the punk, tearing her clothes, squarely in the stomach.
“You bitch,” he grunted.
The man holding her hair took his hand away from her mouth, fisted his fingers, and slugged her in the jaw. Her eyes rolled back and her head hit the brick building behind her with a thud. She went limp.
The scent of her blood overrode everything else.  Thick warm liquid, the sweetest he’d ever smelled, drew him into an undertow of dark desire.
But even while he registered his response to her, he dealt with the men. He threw one down the alley to land yards away with a hard thump. Another he tossed on the roof of one of the two-story brick buildings that lined the alley. He tightened his hand on the third man's shoulder and bones crunched. The ruffian shrieked in pain. The woman fell from his dangling arm.
In a blur of movement, her rescuer scooped her up before she hit the ground. Her attacker pounded down the alley. His short sharp gasps of fright echoed in the narrow passageway along with the muffled thud of his shoes before he hit the streets and disappeared. The avenger could have easily caught the man, but the woman held his interest.
He drew her to him. He’d weaned himself from human blood over a hundred years ago, and now drank only prepackaged animal blood.
The temptation is too great. He felt his eyes glow with heat as they turned crimson. Venom built in his fangs as they pushed through the gums. He lowered his head. His fangs scraped her throat in the first sweet thrust of foreplay.
He watched her, his non-beating heart racing in his chest. His lips drew back, his fangs ready to sink into her sweet flesh.
Her eyes fluttered open.
Release Date: Nov 28, 2013

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Easy Smeezy

I could probably survive with only a microwave, fridge, and coffee pot in the kitchen.
Point in case:

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

BB: Sweet Proposal by Celia J. Anderson

Sweet Proposal by Celia J Anderson

Books, chocolate and a Jacuzzi: could there be a better combination? Gorgeous Geordie Leo arrives in Clayton-on-the-Bream with a mission to make his mark. When he reveals his ideas for a bespoke bookshop and chocolate-themed cafe, struggling writer Mab can’t resist his plea for help.

However, Leo’s timing is disastrous. Engaged to flighty, super-thin Sophie and knowing that Mab is up to her neck in a mysterious scheme of her own, Leo fights hard to ignore the warm, sensual friendship that is growing between them. When their eclectic mix of family and friends weigh in to help, the dream seems almost possible, but can Leo ignore Mab’s shady past? As they battle with sabotage, jealousy, vindictive neighbours and unpredictable relationships, Mab and Leo find that even chocolate can’t always make miracles happen . . .
Available from:
Leo swerved to avoid a dead badger. The A1 was still so quiet that groups of starlings rose in disgruntled crowds as he disturbed their breakfast, and the café where he had once eaten the best bacon sandwich of his life was firmly shuttered.

He gave in to the violent rumblings of his stomach and reached into the glove box, tearing the emergency chocolate bar open with his teeth and chewing until the bitter sweetness melted on his tongue, soothing and sensual. Chocolate and the future – they were closely linked in Leo’s mind. He sighed deeply. It was a pity that Sophie didn’t share his enthusiasm, but he supposed it was hard to get enthusiastic about a chocolate-based dream when all you ate was lettuce. Sophie was only twenty-five after all, ten years younger than Leo, stunningly beautiful and harder to amuse than a teenager on a family holiday. Maybe after they were married she would realise what a brilliant opportunity this move was going to be, and would be ready to leave Newcastle and her weird friends behind.

Stretching his legs, Leo decided that this cab must have been designed for a much smaller man. He yawned, felt his eyelids droop and blinked furiously, thinking of hot baths and strong coffee. He’d had no sleep for almost twenty-four hours. Celebrating was fine, but work would have to come first from now on. It was time for the Chocolate Project. The excitement that had been building up in waves washed over Leo again, and he gave the middle-aged lady driving towards him the full benefit of his flashing grin and dimples. He saw her jaw drop and laughed for the sheer joy of living – at last, Leo was about to make his mark, and no one was going to stop him.
Author Bio:
When she’s not marking children’s work, or writing stories involving pants, Celia spends far too much time on Facebook (Celia Joy Anderson) and does a lot of walking to counteract the cooking, eating and drinking which form another of her hobbies. She blogs as part of the Romaniacs online writers’ group - and tweets as @CeliaAnderson1. Her own website was recently launched thanks to Lucy Felthouse – and she has an author page on Facebook (Celia J Anderson)
Her ultimate dream is to have her children’s books published too. Usually sea-starved in the depths of the Midlands, she can often be found wandering happily around Brighton visiting her two daughters and pretending to collect ideas for her next book.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Men, Women and Money...and Raccoon Man


 A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs.
A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't need but its on sale.

Happy Birthday, Mother. I trust wherever you are, you're hitting the sales.
Ruth Blanchard  1929-2010.

By the way, there was a Ruth Blanchard Titanic survivor. Not the same Ruth Blanchard, but an interesting little bit of trivia.
Wondering about last week's video starring: a raccoon, a gentleman with a long white beard and plenty of shampoo?  Here's the story behind the vid.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Prove You're Not A Robot and Pride and Prejudice

Does anybody else have trouble making out those letters me when you have to prove you're (wo)man not machine? It usually takes me two or three times before I get the secret password correct. And to add insult to energy, half the time it's at my own blog.
Show of hands. Have you read Pride and Prejudice? I blush to admit I've just recently read it. Surprisingly, it was the HH who convinced me to. He went back to school several years ago to get his masters in English Lit and it was required reading for one of his classes. Before that he probably would have let himself be robbed and beaten before reading a Regency Romance. Okay, I exaggerate....kinda. He's now a Jane Austen fan. Her scenes and characterizations drew him completely into the story. He found it to be a true classic and the author an outstanding novelist.

"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion."
Pride and Prejudice~Jane Austen.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Cat Shark

As you might or might not remember, the house is on the market. Eight o'clock Sunday morning the phone rings for a 12:30-2:30 showing. We run around like crazy cleaning the house and getting the yard in shape. Of course, if we'd stayed on top of the house and yard we wouldn't be in frenzy mode but where's the fun in that?  We leave the premises at 12:30.  At 2:30 the phone rings again. The call service tells us the realtor is running behind and needs to move the showing back to 2:45-4:45. We've cleaned for four hours, been out of the house for two hours and looking at staying out of the house for another two hours, and all we want to do is go home. So I ask if we can narrow it down to either 2:45-3:45 or 3:45-4:45. The attendant says, 'Oh that won't be necessary. She's just running about fifteen minutes late, she'll be out of the house by 3:00."  Shoot me now.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Dog Wisdom From A Cat Person

Handle every Stressful situation like a dog.
If you can't eat it or play with it,
Wet on it and walk away 

Monday, August 12, 2013

VBT: Gold Manor Ghost House

Anna thought life was going to be awesome.  She was right…and wrong.

Won her dream job acting in a hit TV series.  Check.

Working with her best friend.  Check.

The set’s haunted and she’s in the middle of a supernatural war.  Uh, check?

Anna Rose Ellington is sixteen and living in Hollywood, hoping to be a star. Anna just landed a major role on Ghost House, TeenTV’s new fall drama.  A show promising to be so hot, Meg Sweet (the reigning teenage diva), signed on for the lead, and Adam Lewis (international rock sensation) is a principal player.

Her dreams are falling into place until she gets on set and begins questioning her sanity.  It’s true she has an unusual dream life, where once in a while her dreams literally come true.  But it’s been a while.  On top of her dreams not staying put in her brain, including the guy she’d been dreaming of for years, the house they’re filming in, Gold Manor, might actually be haunted.  But that’s the least of her worries.
“Keep your hands off her,” Corey yelled as he pulled his fist back for another hit.  A second before Corey’s hand made contact with his face, Adam’s eyes opened and quick as lightning he grabbed his fist.  Forcing it up and throwing Corey off balance, Adam jumped to his feet.

“I’m going to kill you, Lewis,” Corey growled.

I cleared my mind of everything but one thought, please don’t hurt him, please don’t hurt him. Adam instantly moved from retaliation mode to defense only.  Out of nowhere, Dom was standing in front of Adam, hands on Corey, trying to push him back and calm him down.

I was by his side, coaching him, reminding him, “Breathe, Corey.  In and out.  In and out.”

“No,” he spit back and lunged at me.

I barely escaped the blow to my jaw, but my thigh was not so lucky.  Going down with a scream, I wasn’t on the grass long before Corey was beside me, knocked out cold with Adam standing over him.

It didn’t seem possible for Adam to take Corey in a fight.  Corey was bigger, had more muscles, built like a line-backer to Adam’s thinner frame.  But no one could deny the evidence of Corey out by Adam’s fist.

My leg ached from the punch.  I’d have an ugly bruise for weeks.

“You okay?” Adam asked with an indifferent voice, but I wasn’t fooled.  I saw the hatred burning behind his eyes.
Born and raised in Bakersfield, California, Merry Brown now lives in the northwest corner of Tennessee with her husband, three boys, and Daisy the cat. She teaches philosophy at the University of Tennessee, Martin, where she counts it a great privilege and joy to introduce students to perennial questions about the nature of the universe, meaning, morality, and the human condition. Merry Brown's love of philosophy and young adult paranormal and dystopian literature inspired her to write THE KNOWERS, the first book in the Exiled Trilogy. GOLD MANOR GOLD HOUSE is her latest YA paranormal romance book.
My contact info:
twitter: @merryebrown
Facebook: Merry Brown
One randomly drawn commenter will win a $25 Amazon gift card. 

The tour dates can be found here:

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Hello, friends. What's been happening in your corner of the world? Any news?
My tidbit: I received the Excellence in Education Award last week where I work. And no I'm not an instructor. I received it in the staff category. But enough about me, what's going on with you?
What the Owls Said

On those nights when the owls are singing
I linger outside attempting to distinguish

Whether the Great Horned owls are
Or the Long-eared owls are
Or the Barred owls are
Or whether they all are
Here to accompany each other,
Filling the night air with
A dazzling chorus of improvisation.

And the Great Horned owl said,
Sing, brothers, of the glories of the night.
And the Long-eared owl said,
Yes, Yes.
And the Barred owl said,
Sing brothers; it is thy birthright.

Here I am, a paltry audience
Trying to write lyrics for
Music that transcends my voice.                                                  

Michael Cox