DEAR SANTA,

Santa, Santa, Santa!

How’s it going?   Since I’m sure you have your hands full maneuvering that sleigh, ‘dem deer, and that mountain of presents loaded on your back, I’ll make this quick.

I tried very hard to be nice this year.  I really did, Santa.  Now, I admit, I had a moment, or two, okay, maybe three, but hey, things could have been worse.  Those moments of naughty could have gotten downright ugly but they didn’t.  I think I done good!

The list isn’t long this year, Big Guy!  And do a girl a favor please and just stick to the list.  I’ve already been hit with enough surprises this year that I don’t need you to throw anything unexpected my way.  I’ve warmed right up to that new daughter-in-law the Easter Bunny dropped in my lap and the news of that new grandbaby coming next year…well, I’m still working on that one.  Santa, you know how I am about surprises and this year there have been some doozies!

Okay, so as usual peace and good will on earth are at the top of my list.  I know it takes some cooperation from the masses and too darn many folks don’t make it easy, but between us I’ll keep doing my part if you’ll do yours. 

And I know you have that car thing covered.  I can’t wait to untie that big bow that’ll be sitting on my new Jaguar!  Let me repeat that… NEW…Jaguar.  I mean, if a girl’s gonna ride she might as well ride in style, right?  You’re shaking your head.  Too much?  Really?  Okay, I’ll settle for a Certified Used Jaguar with minimal miles on it.  A model in the last two years preferably.  I’m not difficult to please.

In fact, Santa, baby, I am so easy to please that my wish list is very short.  I already have the really great guy, incredible friends, much-loved family, and my writing gig is kicking butt.  There have been some incredible books fans who have come my way and I absolutely adore and appreciate every one of them.  As a matter-of-fact, Santa, I’m extremely grateful for all the blessings in my life.

Life is good, Santa, and I’m feeling particularly favored.  I am busting with so much joy and happiness that if you didn’t bring me that Jaguar I probably won’t even hold a grudge.  It won’t be like that pony I asked for umpteen years ago that still isn’t grazing in any green pasture in my back yard.  I’m just saying!

I’m going to let you get back to it, Santa.  Boys and girls all over the world are anxiously awaiting your arrival.  And I’m sure there’s a pony or two on their lists that I wouldn’t want you to forget to deliver. 

So, to you and everyone else, have yourselves a very Merry Christmas, and until we do this again, a very safe, blessed, and prosperous New Year!

Merry Christmas!

JOB DONE WELL

I’m a stickler for detail and I have an impeccable work ethic.  I also take issue when jobs aren’t performed to the best of one’s ability.  Times are hard so I don’t understand individuals who purposely jeopardize their bread and butter by scheming and finagling to not work at all.  It especially infuriates me when I know those individuals have other mouths to feed.

This week I’ve encountered one heifer after another who made our collective experiences more difficult than they needed to be because they invested more energy in trying to figure out how not to do their job instead of just trying to do it and do it well. 

The young girl at Jiffy Lube galled me first.  It should have been a simple car inspection.  New software had compromised their computer system.  She had excuse after excuse why she couldn’t do what should have been relatively easy to do.  One phone call to their sister store directly across the street resolved the dilemma and she took issue with my having to do what she should have done herself.  When she had the audacity to chastise me for going over her head it took every ounce of effort I had not to pull her head off her shoulders.  Instead I had a brief conversation with the franchise owner about the quality of his customer service.

The young girl at the insurance company pissed me off next.  Renewing my policy was a no-brainer.  Nothing changed and all I had to do was write a check.  When reviewing my paperwork I discovered additional coverage added to my policy without my knowledge or consent.  When questioning another agent for an explanation I learned that they earn commission on the sale of that extra coverage.  If I weren’t such a stickler for detail it probably would have gone unnoticed.  I can’t help but question how many other customers have been likewise swindled.  I plan to ask the state insurance commission when I call to file a complaint.

I worked with a woman once who was notorious for her deceptive business practices.  The “easiest job in the world” proved to be more than she could handle because she never did her job.  I haven’t met anyone since who would blatantly lie and manipulate data to the degree that this woman would.  Her antics went from pretending to place calls that were never dialed to falsifying entries in the computer system.  She spent more time sneaking out of the building than she did at her desk.  On the surface it looked as if she were outperforming the whole department.  The details showed something wholeheartedly different.   Those that she befriended were expected to cover for her if management discovered anything amiss and I was appalled at the individuals that did.  To her demise, she left a paper trail that was miles long, proving that she wasn’t quite as smart as she thought she was.  And management wasn’t as dumb as she believed.

For me, it’s not rocket science. It’s about a job being done well instead of a job being done half-assed or just not done at all.   It’s about doing what you are hired for and performing the duties required of you.  Integrity in the work place speaks to an individual’s character.  I will not compromise my integrity for anyone.  It amazes me that so many young people, and women in particular, would so readily compromise themselves. 

We don’t always sign on to do jobs that we are passionate about.  Sometimes, hard times dictate the when and where of our employment.  But when there are so many standing ready, willing, and wanting work, you’d think those fortunate to be employed would simply do, to the best of their ability, what they signed on to do.  And if not, then I don't feel bad if they find themselves on the back end of an unemployment line.

25 Days of Christmas...Trees!

I’m doing 25 Days of Christmas Trees over on Twitter.  I love Christmas trees.  Last year was the first time in many years that I actually put a tree up.  I’m excited about the tree I plan to put up this year.  Some folks do the tree thing right after Thanksgiving.  That is just a tad too early for me.  I’m more of a middle of the month tree person. Mid-December through the end of the year is all the tree time I like to handle.  My putting up a tree typically coincides with my feeling that “holiday spirit”.  I’m not quite there yet but I’m planning to be. 

‘Tis the season…and that season just has to have a tree.  Please follow me on Twitter and see some of my favorite decorated trees HERE.

Hey, Mr. Spammer!

Just wanted to say hello and tell you how much I appreciate you stopping by my little home on the web.  The unrelentless jibberish you keep trying to leave me would warm the cuckolds of someone's heart if it had an opportunity.  But it doesn't.  At least not here. 

I don't have issues with my libido and don't require a penile implant, penile extender, or any other thing penis related.  I don't have a penis and the penises I'm acquainted with don't have any problems that I'm aware of.  Ultimately, I don't have any desire to help you advertise anything penis related.  You see, I run the penis brigade up in here.  Not you.  As well, I have no interest in links to knock-off shoes, pleather handbags, clothing made in China, or any of the other assorted items you've been leaving on my comment pages.  So you might want to knock it off with the knock offs!

 

Mr. Spammer, I'm thinking that at some point you and your employees who have nothing better to do with their time than to go from blog site to blog site trying to get attention might take notice that none, and I mean NONE, of your unlimited posts ever see the light of day on my blog site.  I have comment moderation for a reason.  But since it would seem that rocket science is necessary for you to understand that I'm not interested and my readers aren't interested, I figured I'd clue you in with some rocket science.

You really don't need to waste any more of your time, or mine.  As long as comment moderation is available, not one word of your drivel will ever see the light of day on any page I have control over.

As always, Mr. Spammer, it's been a pleasure.  Now you might want to consider getting a life.

Trevin Hunte - The Voice

Baby boy is only eighteen-years old with the spirit and a voice of someone twice his age. He moved me and inspired quite the love story.  Boys didn't come like this when I was eighteen!  I am definitely enamored.  Enjoy!

NaNoWriMo 2012!

                                  

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Celebrating National Novel Writing Month Wake County regional libraries are hosting a variety of lectures and workshops on the art of writing.  If you have a chance don't miss out on an opportunity to talk to some wonderful authors and share your experiences with the art of writing.

 

Write Ins on Thursdays Cameron Village Regional Library November 1, 8, 15,& 29, 5:30 p.m. NaNoWriMo participants gather to work on their novels. Call 919-856-6710 to sign up. Writers’ Panel Discussion Eva Perry Regional Library Saturday, November 10, 2 p.m. Join area authors Belea Keeney, Robin Greene and Val Nieman for an insightful discussion about the writing process and getting published. Afterward, authors will be glad to answer your questions. Call 919-387-2124 to sign up. Telling a Great Story! East Regional Library Sunday, November 11, 2 p.m. Enjoy Romance Author Deborah Fletcher Mello's presentation followed by a laid-back chat with the author and other fellow writers. Call 919-217-5300 to sign up.
Writing a Good Blog: Tips for Writing Social, Political and Personal Essays on the Web West Regional Library Thursday, November 15, 6:30 p.m. Join a discussion with local authors and bloggers Stacey Cochran and Alice Osborn as they share best practices for creating, writing, and publishing in the "Blog" format. Call 919-463-8500 to sign up.
Creating Memorable Characters and Ideas! East Regional Library Sunday, November 18, 2 p.m. Enjoy Inspirational Fiction Author Alice Wisler's presentation followed by a laid-back chat with the author and other fellow writers. Call 919-217-5300 to sign up.
Building Stories by Asking Questions Cameron Village Regional LibraryMonday, November 19, 6:30 p.m. Local author Mark L. Van Name will lead an hour-long interactive session in which he’ll show how a simple game - ask the next question - can prove to be an invaluable tool for creating stories. Call 919-856-6710 to sign up.
Everyone's A Poet Southeast Regional Library Monday, November 19, 7 p.m. Get inspired with Dr. Shannon Jonas, Professor of English from Shaw University and published poet, as he discusses how to write poetry and getting published. Call 919-662-2250 to sign up. Find Your Inspiration! East Regional Library Monday, November 19, 7 p.m. Enjoy fiction Author Tiphani Montgomery's presentation followed by a laid-back chat with the author and other fellow writers. Call 919-217-5300 to sign up.

WHAT'S YOUR STORY?

I had a story once.  Bits and pieces of it have found their way into every one of my books.  Twisting and turning it until there was nothing about me that was recognizable to anyone else but me proved to be one of my greatest challenges.  But twisting and turning one story into another is what I love to do.

Even the dental-challenged barista at my favorite coffee shop has a story.  Hers wasn’t what I imagined it to be, the casual grandmother having another side to her sweet persona.  Discovering that she’s a displaced cancer researcher was eye-opening.  She’s displaced due to her ex-employer’s budget cuts and with no interest in returning to her former career, she’s content pushing pastries and espresso until she gets to retirement.  We talked for hours and she had some interesting warnings about the things we might find in our water.

The woman at the airport had a story too.  A single mother, she was known to work as many as three jobs at one time to get her only daughter through college.  Mom’s pride and joy recently earned her juris doctorate degree from a very prestigious university.  Now Mom only works to fund her new love:  sky-diving.  After offering up tips and tricks about free-falling out of an airplane she pledged to bring the entree if we brought the dessert the next time we met.

I live for the stories.  And for every story there is a story-teller anxious to share.  Sometimes it’s just a hint of what has moved their small world.  For others they will readily lay out a well-scripted novel if you’re willing to give them the time.  Some are more engaging than others.  A few have been downright snoozers.  And then comes the challenge of twisting the mundane into a blockbuster.

I’m always searching for stories. What's yours?

INTRODUCING....GRAYE

Releasing a new book always comes with its share of anxiety.  It sits right up there with sending your first born off to kindergarten, then college, then finally cutting those apron strings to let them find their own way in the world.  It can truly be a nail-biting, tooth-gnashing experience. 

 

And it's with much excitement and a hell of a lot of anxiety that I announce the release of my second literary novel, GRAYE. 

 

I lived this story and in 1998 made the commitment to put it down on paper no matter how challenging that proved to be.  And it proved to be quite the challenge!  The characters would come and go at their leisure, sometimes refusing to let go when I needed them to most.  Voices screaming in my head to come out when I desperately needed quiet. Then there were those moments when I needed to hear from them and the silence was deafening.  This is a story that has been a long time coming and now that the last "t" has been crossed and the last "i" has been dotted, I am more than ready to let it out in the world to make its own way.

I truly hope you'll enjoy this story.  The paperback edition is now available for purchase HERE  and HERE.  It's also available on KINDLE and NOOK.

I look foward to hearing what you think.  Until then, please enjoy this excerpt.

Excerpted from GRAYE by Deborah Fletcher Mello:

As the first sign of a morning sun peeked through the trees she thought about her child and the possessive need he’d had for the young woman against her lap.  Graye had been the youngest of her children, the child she’d thought she’d wanted when she’d inhaled and knew she hadn’t when she’d exhaled.  Her mother had called Graye a change of life baby, coming when no one expected him, least of all Miss Jen Pearl.  She’d started birthing children when she’d been sixteen, the eighth one coming just after her twenty-third birthday.  Nine years later Graye had pushed his way into the world without asking, without invitation, his presence almost a given like the sun and the moon were givens.  Miss Jen Pearl had been thirty-two years old, too old in her mind to be birthing another baby. 

She'd had nine children in all.  Treat, Sonn, Carr, August and Graye; and the four girls, Lake, Ginn, Sister and July.  All of them good and decent, except for Graye, the child tainted with an ugly too difficult to describe.  From the moment he'd drawn his first breath evil had wrapped itself around the boy, feeding on his soul.

GRAYE

PASSIONATE PREMIERE

Just sharing the new cover for my January release Passionate Premiere, the official first book in the Boudreaux series....My only gripe is I wish they had left his dreads down instead of giving him that Little Richard updo.  

So what do you think?

THE COLOR OF WOMEN

I am connected to an amazing group of incredible women.  I have sister-friends who are artists and crafters and writers; talented individuals who are able to birth beauty out of little to nothing.  I am, at times, in awe of their abilities.  There are times that my spirit is moved to tears by the magnificence they are able to produce and their works inspire me to do and be better with my own.

Recently, a dear, sweet friend revisited that special place inside of herself to create an incredible piece of prose that she’s coined, The Color of Women.  It’s a work in progress after an eighteen year hiatus.  And all I can say is she’s been missed and with eighteen years of pure magic to release we will all be incredibly blessed to be touched by her talent.

I love being able to share just a little of what my dear, sweet friend has shared with me.  I am in awe of her talent and have been truly inspired by the gift that is the woman she is.  She has moved me to tears.  Enjoy!

Excerpted from The Color of Women

By Mary Parrish

She is red, in all its magnificence. From the near-black crimson of blood, life-beginning and life-sustaining, to the cherry red of fast cars and thrill rides.  From the gray-pink blush of a grown woman’s lips, to the chewing-gum pink of a child blowing bubbles, princess colors enshrining her.  She is the original woman: the first mother, the first daughter.  The first unrestrained laugh, the first anguished cry of loss.  Life, in its rage and excesses and passion, and love, in its humility and forgiveness and grace…

She is the laughing colors of spring, a picnic by a mountain stream.  The pale shades of new grass, and the richer green of moss.  Wisps of sky blue mirrored in the water, which echoes her voice: gently streaming in sanguinity, rushing in expectation, skipping lightly over pebbles and stones that have yet to hurt her.  For warmth, a shower of sunlight through canopied leaves to halo her.  The goddess’ much-loved daughter. She is the color of my eyes, once when I was young…

She is moonlight.  And star light.  And sun light.  She is mirrored light on water, and the first dash of white in the dawning sky.  All crafted together, tightly smoothly, by the hands of an unnamed God, producing a color I cannot name.  A song I cannot quite hear.  A woman always just beyond me.  A goddess I cannot touch…

Me?  Oh, I guess you don’t recognize me.  I am the color of shadows.   Once, I was a gypsy princess, dancing wildly in swirling scarves of color.  Now, I am the woman standing outside the window, waiting for you. Stand up, pull back your curtains—there I am, somewhere in the lamplight, somewhere in the ruins of your abandoned childhood dreams.   I am the whisper of loves forgotten.  The hollow memory of a memory.  I am your broken goddess, awaiting resurrection…

ON THE RADIO WITH READ YOU LATER!

Listen to internet radio with Read You Later on Blog Talk Radio

GENERATION WHY?

Youth today are in a league all their own.  They are a new breed of kid and with this generation coming up, I can only ask “why?”

Joshua graduated over a year ago.  Since then he’s made no effort to do anything of any value.  No effort has been made to go to school or work.  I asked Joshua if he had plans for his future.  He answered with a disinterested shrug of his shoulder.  I asked if he’d considered college.  He told me that he really had no interest in anything at all.  Joshua said he’s all about “making that paper”.  Since Joshua doesn’t have a job, and doesn’t seem much interested in anything at all, legal or otherwise, I don’t know how he plans to make that "paper" happen.  His parents support his bad habits, affording him the only "paper" he ever seems to get and he can’t rationalize why he should make any effort to change.

Tasia was raised by an adoring grandmother.  She was made to go to church every Sunday and be respectful of her elders.  Since graduating high school Tasia moved out on her own, leaving her granny  and her home training behind.  I asked Tasia about her interest in higher education.  She slammed a telephone down in my ear in response.

I want to ask Jessica about her plans, to discover if there is anything that moves her creative spirit.  Jessica won’t bother to answer my calls, having blocked my phone number because Jessica couldn't give a rat’s ass about doing anything except having herself a good time.  

Youth today believe in their good time.  It supersedes everything they should be doing.  Preparing for their future is no fun.  Pissing away time, energy, and mama and daddy’s money makes them just as happy as little pigs in mud,  They wallow in the experience, taking delight in doing nothing, or doing everything they have no business doing.   A wise woman once said that all most kids today have to do is eat, sleep, and poop and they can't even do that without stepping in it.

I have seen and heard some things from some kids today that would have gotten my own offspring a real world ass whipping.  My own may have given it some consideration but they would not have been so brazen or so stupid to take that kind of risk.  Those of my own generation would not have even contemplated it, the thought of being so rude and disrespectful in no way crossing our minds.  Like many, had I even looked at my parents the wrong way I would have gotten my teeth slapped down my throat.

So when I encounter some teens today, I can’t help but eye their entire generation with frustration, wondering where, when, and how it all went wrong. 

I can’t help but ask, why?

MY PERSONAL SPACE

Age, and wisdom, have made me exceptionally cautious about the people I invite into my personal space.  Not everyone is allowed access to my private life and those invited are usually vetted for some time before I feel comfortable enough to welcome them in.  

Recently I became acquainted with a group of women who I’ve been able to spend much time with.  I was open to the possibilities of new friendships and bonds being formed.  But women being women, it soon became clear that things were not as picture perfect as they first appeared.  And women being women it took no time at all for the claws to come out, for jealousy to flare, and the possibility of any enduring friendships to come to a swift and screeching halt.

After witnessing some seriously bad behavior I, and another in that little clique, were accused of our own bad behavior.  The accuser cast a shadow on our integrity while smiling in our faces the entire time.  Our behavior was deemed conduct unbecoming to anyone in the environment where we were interacting.  It was said that malicious comments had been uttered and that there was an altercation where we treated another badly.  When the accusation was brought to my attention it left me stunned and bewildered because the entirety of it was a complete and total lie, a bold-faced fabrication constructed solely around a difference of opinions.  It was a betrayal of monumental proportions.

As quickly as that bold faced lie brought folks’ true colors to light, it shut the door on any possibility of any in this group being welcomed into my world.  It assured that I will, from this point forward, deal with them only at arm’s length, forever wary of their motives.

Actions speak much louder than words and I have had little to say to anyone associated with this sad and unnecessary situation.  The lies have already done their damage and nothing said can erase the residue of doubt they left behind.  But as a dear and trusted friend reminded me, what’s done in the dark will always come to the light and I imagine that with no help from me at all, the truth will cast a bright glow on the individual who set us on this path.  

Sadly though, when all is said and done, the door to any friendships between myself and any of the other women will forever be closed, and locked, none of them welcome into my private life.  I just can't take that risk.

SNAKE? REALLY? WHY?

I made my boys cook.  I saw it as a major necessity to keep them from starving.  In my mind it also kept them from becoming dependent on a woman their mama didn’t like.  Of course, back in the day I was convinced there wasn’t a young woman in the world good enough for my boys.  But my older boys all married incredible women, proving me wrong.  And I hope those women were impressed by the culinary skills my babies brought to the table.

Baby boy took his culinary skills to a whole other level.  I’ve written before about his talents in the kitchen, having nicknamed the kid Chef-Boy-You–Are-Good by the time he was twelve years old.  However, I’m a little taken aback by some of his recent culinary endeavors.  

Son-shine is stationed in Texas.  They have snakes in Texas.  Nasty, poisonous snakes.  I’m not understanding the attraction, but always one to push the boundaries the kid figured why not.  Why not turn a rattle snake catch into a savory, butter-milk soaked delicacy served with tomato and garlic infused rice and a tangy dipping sauce.  

He said why not! 

I can’t help but question, why?  

I think he needed a little nudging so I told him it's okay to eat normal food.  It's okay if he drives by a McDonald's and orders himself some take out.  Really!  Mama won't mind at all.  In fact, I'll even spring for the Big Mac and fries!  

LIFTED

His Netflix choice has turned me into a blubbering baby.  This is a must-see film for everyone!  Just don't forget a very big box of tissue.

CALM

There’s something about the calm before a storm that feels particularly satisfying.  It’s knowing that no matter what devastation might be coming in your direction, that you are more resilient.  Beating you down might be a harder task than imagined.

I’m in the midst of calm while a storm brews with a vengeance around me.  But being beaten is not an option, not without one hell of a good fight.  I think it’s my age.  I have no tolerance for nonsense, being less inclined to bite back my words.  I'm unwilling to tolerate bad behavior, not even my own.  So, as I weather the cold fronts about to collide I know when all is said and done I will still be standing, everything balanced as it should be.  I’m grateful to be so blessed.

THE SWEETEST ADDICTION

It's some sort of night and I'm feeling some sort of way. The beat of this song just feels good! Hot, sexy, and decadently wicked.

I can feel a serious writing binge coming on. Words are the sweetest addiction.

THE BIGGEST LOSER

So let me tell you about my day.

There was an open casting call for THE BIGGEST LOSER and my guy and I took up the challenge and attended.  We both have much weight to lose and since we are big fans of the show, we figured why not take advantage of the opportunity.  So bright and early (very, very early) we headed to the Rex Wellness Center in Knightdale, NC to join a lengthy line of hopeful candidates.  Talk about a fun time!

Arriving shortly after six in the morning we were close to the front of the line, being numbers 074 and 075 on their lineup sheets.  For us, the weather was perfect, overcast with moderately warm temperatures.  We were not uncomfortable compared to people who arrived later and found themselves directly beneath the sun’s rays by the lunch hour with the temperatures quickly approaching hot as hell.

Things didn't officially kick off until shortly after 10 am.  During the wait we got to know the people in line with us.  There was the bright and bubbly kindergarten teacher who has recently ended her eight year career.  She’s been awarded a fellowship to Old Dominion to pursue her Doctorate’s degree.  Cute as a button with a vibrant, bubbly personality, she wanted to do Biggest Loser because she can’t fit into her cute car, fearful of damaging the good upholstery.  Her best friend, a seriously talented dress designer for women with curves tagged along for the ride.

Then there were the sisters looking to make a life change, both adorned from head to foot in bling and sparkle.  There was the cute guy looking great in green who works in a car dealership in Tennessee.  He had traveled to the Atlanta casting call first, then unhappy with how things went, decided to give the North Carolina auditions a shot.  His face was familiar to me and I’m still racking my brain to remember where I know him from.

And then there was the big guy with the flaming red hair who’d amassed quite a twitter following to support his journey, one exuberant fan going out of her way to find him to say hello and shake his hand.  He came with his mother, a delightful personality with a great sense of humor.  Mom was along for the ride, willing to do whatever was necessary for her baby boy.  

There was a wealth of personalities eagerly seeking one of the few available slots.  And they came in a range of sizes from wide to wider.  Everyone came with a story and a dream, wanting to do better and be better for themselves and the family and friends that they loved.  Most were grateful for the opportunity and only a select few had the potential to bring down everyone else’s good mood.

I haven’t gotten my callback but then I can’t say that I was really expecting one.  It’s not an easy feat to stand out amongst some 6oo-plus personalities and although I’m good, even I question if I’m that good.  I’m hopeful that the luck of the draw will give us a great cast of characters to root for and emulate when season 14 premieres.  Unlike last season, I’m hoping for contestants who value and appreciate the magnitude of the opportunity that will be afforded to them.  

So as they face the challenge before them, I hope The Biggest Loser casting crew is looking for people who don’t come with the mean-spirited drama of their predecessors from last season.  I'm hoping they'll cast people who will have us wanting to see them do well.  People like a bubbly teacher, an adoring mother, a disabled truck driver, and maybe even a romance author.

REAL LOVE VIRTUAL TOUR

I am touring today over at A HOPEFUL ROMANTIC!

Where it's all about love....all the time...

So, please, stop by and linger for a while!

THE STORIES ARE COMING...

The release of FOREVER A STALLION is just around the corner and I’m excited to introduce the one and only Stallion sister, Phaedra Parrish.  But I’m even more excited to introduce Mason Boudreaux, the oldest son of the Boudreaux clan out of New Orleans.

Much like the Stallion’s, the Boudreaux’s are a tight knit family bonded by the strength of loving parents, grounded in their faith, with a sibling lineup that will make for some interesting antics, fun-filled moments, and hopefully, some really great story lines.

The Stallion brothers were all dark chocolate treats, each with his own delectable filling.  John was pure candy, nothing else needed.  Matthew was nougat, a complex mix of chewy rich fudge, nuts, and fruit.  Mark was the chocolate treat with the surprise middle, each bite a surprise, and of course baby brother Luke was simply nut-filled.

And now, I have the Boudreaux’s, a kaleidoscope of personalities from powerhouse Mason to pampered princess Tarah.  When this family came to me I had images of them in my mind’s eye, casting them by their looks and personalities.  I’ve always known who Mason would look like, even before his name came to me.  I also knew that he would be dynamic, and powerful, and a force to be reckoned with.  I likened Mason after one of my biggest celebrity crushes, Tyler Perry.  But only the Tyler in a suit, conducting major business Tyler.  Tyler looking debonair and suave, with that dynamic smile, was my Mason Boudreaux.  There are only a select few images of Tyler where I can see Mason.  I’ve since fallen out with Tyler but that’s another story for another day.

Mason Boudreaux came to me when I was writing Matthew Stallion’s story.  His love interest, Katrina Broomes, had to have family and it hit me that she had to have one heck of a family.  I instantly imagined Mason and their baby brother Guy Boudreaux.

Now Guy is a superstar.  He’s drop dead gorgeous, with a head of great hair.  And then, one day, while surfing the internet, I fell across the likeness of Guy.  A perfect likeness!  Once he was fleshed out his story came with a vengeance.  So, my next book, PASSIONATE PREMIERE, coming in February 2013 will introduce award-winning actor Guy Boudreaux and filmmaker, Dahlia Morrow.

The stories are coming and I think I’ve taken the writing to a whole other level.  Right now, I’ve got an office romance simmering in the back of my head.  An office romance with a ton of deceit, bad behavior, and much, much drama.

After that?  You just never know.

A FAIRY TALE...

It’s a fairy tale, of sorts.  There’s a King, a Queen, a Princess, and the requisite loyal monarchy.  The King has built an empire of sorts, entrusting his wonderland to the whims of the Queen and the Princess.  The Queen is kind of Cruella de Vil-ish just without the dalmatians.  Despite her assertions that her greatest joy is to motivate her minions, she’s extremely judgmental, quick to criticize and she’s been known to have a vicious tongue.  

The Princess holds herself in high esteem, but there are no others who do.  She’s a master manipulator, devious and deceitful, and when you combine that with dumb girl stupid, it can prove to be a lethal combination.  Just ask the poor souls she’s left quivering in her wake.  

The King would seem to be an intelligent leader, a trailblazer of sorts but has gotten himself caught between his two leading ladies.  Thelma and Louise run rip shod behind his back, their tactics the stuff that brings about mutiny, mass migrations, and class-action lawsuits.  Definitely a lawsuit, or two.  Maybe, even three.

The hierarchy of wonderland have questioned the motivations that allow Princess and Queenie to do as they do while the head man in charge feigns ignorance because in any other kingdom the two would have been beheaded ages ago, the king moving on to better and better.  So rumors run rampant about late night trysts in the King’s gold room and with the Princess’s penchant for threesomes to keep herself entertained, most are betting that she maintains her reign because she has damaging evidence that could bring the sovereignty crashing down.

Perhaps the King has a thing for spiked collars and the Queen’s high heels.  Maybe the Queen swings a bigger stick than Big Daddy.  The Princess might have him by the balls because she has a pair or two of her own.  In this land of unbelievable, the masses can only speculate.  

As fairy tales go I don’t hold out much hope for the happy ending, at least not for those who are accepting of the bad behavior.  But for the fed up few willing to take the kingdom down to their knees, who knows?  Happy might be much more than any of them anticipate, everyone else telling their story with "once upon a time".

GONNA BE ALL RIGHT!

It's a HOT Saturday night and the water is just fine!

Good friends, good food, good drink, a great time!

So come do how we do!

'Cause everything is gonna be all right!

REAL LOVE VIRTUAL TOUR

REAL LOVE VIRTUAL TOUR

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

Every year I spend the weeks between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day reflecting on the old people.  (Aren't my ma and pa pretty?)  Celebrating Mother’s Day has always come with relative ease.  Gifts for mom were easy.  Spending time with my mother even easier.

 Father’s Day has always been more of a challenge.  By the time I was twelve I’d pretty well exhausted the requisite supply of socks and ties we’d pick out for my daddy.  One year I’d even given him a rock to use as a paperweight.  Not sure whose brilliant idea that was but I’ll take credit for the creativity.  If I recall correctly, it was a pretty rock and I don’t think it cost me more than an afternoon in my mother’s garden searching for the perfect, naturally polished stone.

Over the years the perfect gift has given way to the perfect card.  Depending on whether or not my daddy and I were on speaking terms determined whether it was a Hallmark or just your generic dollar store variety.  Son-shine took gift-giving for his favorite Pop-Pop to a whole new level.  Like two peas in a pod there was no choice the boy ever made that wasn’t his grandfather’s best gift ever, something he’d been wanting since forever.

My sibling and I have very different relationships with our parents.  I believe that over the years, as an adult, I’ve had to work harder at my relationship with my father.  I know that choices I made before I was twenty put a significant wedge between us.  There are moments that I think that we are still butting heads against that wall.

And then there are times when I am very much my father’s daughter, his one and his only Baby Girl, the nickname he still calls me by if he is not calling me by my full name.  When things between us are golden even a Hallmark isn’t good enough for my very favorite guy.  But no matter what the mood of the moment, I cannot deny that the man, who raised me, raised me well.  There can be no denying that my father loves me immensely.  And it has been my Father’s love that has motivated most everything I’ve done and accomplished since I was a little girl.

We have our moments, my Daddy and I.  But there is nothing better than being my daddy’s Baby Girl.  So, to all the father’s out there, HAPPY FATHER’S DAY.  And to my favorite daddy in the whole wide world, I love you very much!

PLEASE SEND PRAYER!

For the last few days I have been swimming in a well of emotion.  It hasn’t taken much to make me teary as I have been on the verge of breaking out into that really ugly cry. 

My baby boy has two best friends that have been an extension of our family since forever.  When they were in school it was the rare occasion that you ever saw one of them without the other two of them and if they weren’t traveling as a trio, you were sure to see some duo combination, two seeking out the third.  When my son-shine was out of my sight I knew that he was at one’s home or the other’s and I trusted that he was safe and well, their mother’s caring for and loving him as if he were their own.

One day the trio was acting up as only they could, playing a random game of hokey pokey, kicking one foot in as they roared with laughter.  At least that’s what I think they were doing.  For all I know it was a game of karate kick something, boys being boys.  But they were happy and laughing and a random snapshot of their three feet from the ankle down became my thing to do to celebrate the milestones they shared together.  When Son-shine celebrated his 16th birthday we took the trio to Myrtle Beach to celebrate and I snapped a shot of their three bare feet in the sand.  When they went to prom I photographed them in their tuxedos and then took that one shot of their three identically sneakered feet. 

Two years ago, the trio made the decision to enlist in the military, together.  Two chose the same MOS (Military Operational Specialty) headed for Special Forces training.  The third was less inclined to put himself directly in the path of trouble.  But together they headed off to boot camp.  As they departed I lovingly joked that I could not wait for the day when they would all be back home together and I could get a shot of their three military-issued boots.  And I envisioned the day I’d snap a photo at their weddings and all the other milestones I know that they will one day share together. 

As with all best laid plans the military sent them in three separate directions.  Two, Son-shine being one, are still stationed state-side.  Until a few days ago, the third was serving his first tour in Afghanistan.  Today, he is back on US soil, recovering in a military hospital.  And every time I think about it I want to cry.

On Sunday, this young man’s squad hit an IED while out on patrol.  There was an explosion and he and others were seriously wounded.  There was one casualty, one young man who will not be going home to his family.  And my heart is simply broken at the thought.  This hit too close to home and only for the grace of a beloved God is our young man now back in his mother’s arms, his parents by his side.  Despite the severity of his injuries, he is on the road to a full recovery.  (I am putting that out into the atmosphere and claiming it.)  I know all too well that things could have gone very differently.

So, on behalf of the injured and fallen soldiers and the many soldiers who are still in harm’s way, I ask that you please lift them all up in prayer.  Please pray for their healing and their safety and the families that want nothing more than to have them all back home safe and sound.  They are our nation’s unsung heroes and sending prayers skyward is the least that we can do for them. 

Wishing you a speedy recovery, PFC Williams!  And we love you.  We love you very much!

'TIS THE SEASON!

‘Tis the season, graduation season! Around the nation young people are walking across stages, waving their diplomas high and proud, taking the first steps toward the next phase of their lives.

Three of my favorite people celebrated this past week, having made family and friends very proud of their accomplishments. Of the three, two have clearly defined goals for their future. One has entered the military.  Another, after being accepted to four of the most prestigious colleges, has confirmed enrollment at their first choice. And then there is that one who doesn’t have a clue, still contending with “what now”.

Recently, I worked on a research project talking to a host of high school seniors about their future plans. For each one who had already applied and been accepted to college, or who had enlisted in the military and was preparing for boot camp, there were two more who still didn’t have a clue. For them, the prospect of tomorrow was still about having a good time with mommy and daddy footing the bill. Of the two with no idea of what comes next, one was scared to death and the other really didn’t give a damn, figuring that things would work out when it became necessary. And then of course there is the reality that things might not work out at all. Very few of them had even given that possibility a fleeting consideration.  As their answers were being recorded and I listened to their stories, it dawned on me that I was talking to our future and that scared the hell out of me.

There is a new breed of kid being raised today. Far too many are narcissistic, mean-spirited, and lazy, with an attitude of entitlement. Most aren’t likeable and yet we still want to have high hopes for their success, despite the abundance of failure that seems to be their calling card. Those kids I want to shake some sense into. Those kids would benefit from a good ass-whipping that’s been ten-plus years in the making.

And then there is always that kid whose enthusiasm for life ignites your own. The young adult who wants more for themselves than others have ever imagined for them. Those who are willing and wanting to sacrifice and fight to do and be better. Those kids touched my heart and had me rooting for them to succeed despite the many odds against them.

So, it’s a season of transitions and for those students with a game plan and the support to help them through, I wish them much success. For those students still trying to navigate “what next” I wish even more for them. ‘Tis the season to see every one of their dreams soar!

MY MUPPET PERSONALITY

I am already having a day.  For thirty minutes I was contemplating my Muppet personality.  Why, you might ask. 

Why not?  At the time I didn’t have anything better to do.  Like I said, I was already having a day.

For years I adored Miss Piggy.  Her creator, Frank Oz said she was “a truck driver wanting to be a lady”.  I got that.  Like Miss Piggy, I was destined for stardom and nothing was going to stand in my way.  She and I both had our public personalities – soft, demure, and lady-like.  Piss us off and it was on like a firestorm.  Miss Piggy kicked Kermit’s green butt a time or two when she wasn’t kissing it.  I wasn’t much about kissing anything that I had to kick.

But I’ve evolved.  I’m no longer wanting to be anything, lady or otherwise.  The public personality isn’t quite so soft and demure.  Piss me off and it is still on.  So, I was thinking that I’m more like Janice Muppet now.

Janice is the lead guitar player in the Electric Mayhem.  She’s also quite the actress, her talents endless.  Janice is laid-back, has issues with nudity (only her own), has an affinity for baking (only during the holidays) and she just rocks.  Janice doesn’t need to prove she can kick ass.  When it’s necessary she just does and not in that fly-off-the handle way that Miss Piggy does it.  Of course, I don’t have her annoying Valley-girl voice but I confess to being unapologetically spoiled with a cute-girl attitude.

And it took me thirty minutes to figure out the Janice Muppet in me.  It’s definitely going to be a day. 

So, contemplate your Muppet personality and feel free to share.  And have a great weekend.  I definitely plan on it.

PICTURE PERFECT

It’s been a great day.  It started with one of those gut busting laughs that brings tears to your eyes. I laughed well before my first cup of coffee, right through breakfast and I am still laughing.  There’s not been an ounce of chaos today and chaos has reigned for nine hours per day every day for the last three weeks.  But that too shall soon pass.

I probably should have bypassed that all-you-can-eat buffet dinner but the fried chicken and banana pudding just wouldn’t let me.  I ate well and I’m sure I’ll be regretting it next week when I have to throw in an extra hour or two of exercise to work off all the unnecessary calories.

The highlight of my day though was the afternoon excursion through the antique market and being reunited with the violinist.  I had first discovered the violinist two, maybe three years ago and I’d fallen head over heels in love with him.  Back then he belonged to someone else and could not be had.  I walked away from him heartbroken believing that he was lost to me forever.  So I was not at all prepared to find him where I did today.  To turn a corner and have him there behind me as I stood staring at something else was my surprise of the day.  And, seeing him again today I was in awe, as if it were our very first time.  The icing on the cake was discovering that he was available and wanting to come home with me as much as I wanted him here.

It’s been a great day and the violinist just made it picture perfect.

SHOULDA

It's my mood right now...walked when I should run, ran when I shoulda walked...and I don't know...I don't know...

LIFE IS GOOD!!

This is SO cool!  I've always said this small town sits right on the edge of heaven.  I found my creative muse here and the community has nourished it beyond measure.  It's home, sweet home, and I've yet to find another place that moves my spirit as much.  Click on the link below and experience my little piece of heaven!

LIFE IS GOOD