Update

Crisper than bacon, I wince when I move, but the outcome was from having fun.  I think.  One day I will learn to smother myself with sunscreen. I hope.  It was a day of taking risks.  To jump into the lake from the boat to encourage my youngest that he can defeat what scares him, and afterwards, there will be no fear.  Yeah, right.

I'm petrified of water, but I thought that it would be easy to jump.  My oldest son and husband are very good swimmers so  I take a running start and freeze when my toes touch the metal that warned me that there wasn't a surface if I took another step.  I do this at least five times before I ask for assistance.  Yes, I asked Borilla to give me a push.  Eyes shut tight, my feet leave the deck.  I'm flying in the air and then I'm under water fighting my way up to see light.  The water is cold because of the rain showers we had been recieving.  Murky, so even when the eyes opened I couldn't see.  All that was on my mind was that I was underwater and that is exactly where I didn't want to be.  My head finally emerges, and I'm coughing up the water I had swallowed when my mouth had opened to scream in protest.  But I did it and now it was time for the T-man to follow suit.  He fought as much as I.  Screamed out his protest the minute he emerged.  Swore in the only language that I accept.  This was our Saturday.  Now it's over, it's done, and I can get to business.

I'm fixing to start the final edit for To Love Again, and I think it's that edit that's keeping me from seeing the next chapter in First Comes Love.  The hope is to publish To Love Again within the next week.  K-dog is finally making progress on the book cover, so it might be a possibility and soon Kirsten's story will be shared.  That is my hope.  This story really touches me, because I've put a lot of myself in the main character. 

All of my books have overgone a serious price reduction to make for some affordable summertime reading. 

That's it for my blog today.  Be safe, be happy, have fun.
TTYL
DAP

A Mother Is. . .

A mother is born as somebody's baby.  A little girl that will blossom from the guidance and wisdom of her own mother.  She will mature with strength, sense, and an urge to nurture.  A mentor, a rock; a shoulder to lean on during the good times and bad.  A mother will shed tears when a child is hurt, be a cheerleader while they grow.  She will have a happy dance reserved for special occasions.  A mother is a kind word, an encouraging mentality, and the hug that makes everything better. She is the tranquility in a storm.

Her kiss is a band-aid, her advice; a resource.  The perseverance she shows is a life-time lesson.  As children, we take it for granted.  As adults, we thrive while using what we've learned from her.  We take the tools and use them for raising our own children, and we find ourselves grateful. 

A mother has four seasons.  The spring is the time where she blossoms from the little girl into the woman that she's meant to be in her life.  In the summer, she'll find her Prince Charming and fall madly in love.  It's in the fall that she'll have her children and thrive as a mother, and in the winter, she'll become the grandmother and spoil the children of her children. 

For those of us that no longer have their mother with them, we remember.  We can only imagine the hugs, visualize the smiles, and hear her words in our mind.  There are occasions that we wish we hadn't put off the phone calls or that we could change certain times which had caused her a hurt we couldn't take back.  Areas in our life where we can only dream her back into existence. 

Oh, how I wish that she could've seen her oldest grandson graduate last year or my son graduate this year.  I know that she would be proud of Private J and K-dog.  She'd be proud of all of grandchildren.  She never met her youngest granddaughter or heard the sweet giggle that comes from nowhere.  Never watched that granddaughter's sister dance or watched the others play softball.  She'd be tickled over some of the stunts that my T-man pulls, and I can hear her laughter. 

I can see this, an image that is very vivid.  My mother loved children so it would be right that she's sitting in Heaven with little ones surrounding her while she reads stories.  I can see her giving out hugs for no particular reason or soothing a crying baby.  I can see this because that was the way she was in real life. The part of life that I took for granted, and for this Mother's Day, I honor the woman that has taught me with the love that I still hold.  I'll always remember.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY,
TTYL
DAP

You are Forever in my Heart, Moms.
 

My Thoughts, My Prayers

This week has been one where our hearts broke, our souls cried, and we all prayed for the people in Boston while the televisions played and replayed the scenes of the Boston Marathon.  We try to make sense of the loss of people that were there to support others while crossing the finish line.  The innocent child, the student who came here to study from abroad, and the mother.  Their pictures engraved in our minds while the imagery of smoke fills the screen and the sound of the explosions echo in our thoughts.  All we can do is ask why because there is no sense why hundreds of spectators were injured.  No rhyme or reason why mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, sons, or daughters worried and searched for their loved ones.  There're no words that can explain the sorrow the nation has felt as a whole while watching the makeshift memorial.  The wind blowing the US flags; the balloons floating over thousands of well wishes. We wait. We watch for news of the identities and the capture of the men responsible.

I couldn't help but think about the shooting at the theatre during a premiere of Batman or of the young children in Newtown.  The stabbings at another college or the scare that they had on the A & T Campus.  It's too easy for a person to grab their fifteen minutes of fame by taking a life or injuring others. The very sad thing, the realism, is that there isn't a blasted thing that we can do about it.  Sure, we can place a stricter legislature on guns, but that's not going to end the reign of the black market.   We could place metal detectors at all of the major sporting events and at the school entrances, but some how people would figure out a way around those.  These solutions would be like placing a band-aid on a cut that needs fifteen stitches; temporary fixes that will never solve anything.

The death of one of the bomber brothers and the capture of the other were of little consolation to those that lost their loved ones.  It won't bring back the life that they loved.  We think, or I think, about the mother that suffered a brain injury while her son died and her daughter lost a leg.  I think of the father and brother who are grieving while supporting each other.  The family overseas who thought that their daughter would be safe going to college here.  We place ourselves there, and we weep because we think that it could've happened in our hometown.  It could've been your son whom you lost.  Your daughter.  It could be your spouse fighting for his or her life.  One of the two officers who was shot could've been one of your loved ones.  We can place ourselves in Boston where they were put on lock down while armed forces searched and searched for the last bomber.  Armored vehicles, assault rifles, sirens.  A shoot-out in the middle of the night.   Far beyond the definition of a nightmare, the Bostonians lived it.  

Borilla made an interesting point, one that I had thought about often while watching a program.  I know that people want to know what is happening around them.  It's our nature, as is the game of one-upping.  It is both plausible and possible for suspects to be watching the same coverage that we are, which would mean that they will know as much as we do.  Smart phones, the Internet, news coverage, it's accessible everywhere.  How-to videos and programs about how things are made.  Information that can be used for a st
udents paper or thesis can be obtained to harm a life. It's both sick and sad.  

And after saying this, life is not to be taken for granted.  We should make a point of telling people that we love them and that they are cherished.  We should wake up every morning with a mission to do at least one good deed for somebody in need.  Pass along a smile to brighten some one's day.  Achieve at least one thing on a bucket list that you may or may not have.  For you see tomorrow- it never comes, and today is not a guarantee.  God bless us all.

This is all I have to say,
TTYL
DAP
Prayer Warriors-
Please pray for those families in Boston, Texas, and China that have lost their loved ones this week.

Update

We started Easter vacation with a boat ride, and yes; it was chilly but well worth it.  The sun was shining on the still waters creating a fairy dust image to pop in my mind, and its warmth made one forget about the chilly air while enticing my youngest son into a small nap.  Baby Doll was in her element talking to the dogs on the shore in a very shrill whine while we took our time looking at the older developments and the newer houses on the landscape. 

I always hate the end of the season where we have to say good-bye to the rides until spring and summer can return but absolutely love to welcome it back.  I just have but one request- whoever is responsible for sending Mother Nature the memos requesting the change of the season, please resend it as soon as possible. 

As for my writing, I've learned that there is virtually, as well as physically, no publisher where the stories I write fit, so it's still the life of an Indy Publisher for me.  Perhaps I'm just not holding my mouth right when I send the query or maybe the publisher is holding his or hers the wrong way when they read the manuscript after requesting that I send them a copy.  I'll be publishing Hidden Truths by the end of this month via my regular channels.  I just need to have K-dog teach me what I want to know about Photoshoppe so that I can create better book covers for the stories that I've already published and will publish in the future.   

To Love Again, my current work in progress, is coming along great, and I'm going through a lot of emotions now that the characters have completely taken over.  Heart wrenching is how I would describe it, and I'm wondering why I had to invite in a bad person.  Sorry, no spoiler alerts.  I'm going to have to face the fact that the book I had envisioned, the story I wanted to tell, will be written sometime in my future.  That said, my comfort zone will not be tested yet, but kept safely in bounds, which will mean another clean book. 

I should explain that Borilla thinks my books have some sort of erotic scenes in them(all of them) and is also convinced that nobody he knows would be interested.  Therefore, I don't openly talk about the books, and I'll admit this is great for me.  If a person asks while others are around, I have a tendency to freeze.  I have no idea what to say, and the typical let's talk about the weather shoots out of my mouth with haste.  Usually, the first question out of somebody's mouth is "What do you write?"

I have no idea how to describe what I write.  The only people that I can talk to about my books are the people that have always encouraged and supported me.  I hide behind a logo that my son created for me because that is a comfort zone and allows me to observe.  I read people bragging on my social networks for their updates and also for my entertainment.  They always start off with word counts and where their books are ranked.  I know I should be interested in my ranks, but I'm not.  I avoid them and the bad reviews like I would the flu.  Of course, I'm having a hard time believing somebody when they claim to have typed 1900 words within a minute.  Is that even a remote possibility? 

Okay, I'm signing off because there's a need to provide the family with some much-needed  nutrients, but before I leave, I want to mention that Kismet from the Fostered Love Series will have another free run soon.  I'll have to let you know when Barnes and Noble will update their price.
TTYL
DAP