SATURDAY SITCOM

What did you sayThis is me today–full of questions and no answers. Some days are like this–I call them sitcom days. I could be in the middle of a sentence and forget what I said or asked. I wait and wait for someone else to prod me or point me in another direction. When you live alone, this never happens.

So, I invent people to help me hang out on Saturdays. Today is a clean-up Saturday. Yeah, all the chores of the week have piled up in a heap at my front door.: Either I get the chores done, or sit and read a book. OOPS . . . see what I mean. Which would you do?

I hear the voice of my mother from eons ago..”Never leave this house without clean underwear.” Okay, but why, no one is going to see anything? Then my dear, old dad pops in, “Do you have enough nickles to get a ride home?” Nickels? Are they still around? And back then, to whom would I give them?  I can’t remember ever seeing a taxi.

FASHIONATA arrives on the scene. “What are you doing with all this laundry? Where is your maid?”

“I am my maid, and at this moment, unavailable for any duties. I’ve checked out.”

“Honey, you need help.”

“Any offers?” Silence greets me.

Then I look at my kitchen. I did not put the dirty dishes in their laundry hole, after dinner last night. Well, look at it from another prospective….I did eat. No store-bought stuff or take-out. I cooked, and darn well too. So what’s the problem?

HEALTH PATROL jumps over the laundry and heads straight for the kitchen . “

“What is going on in here? Don’t you know bacteria is having their hey-day?”

“So that’s the problem. I did not get invited and neither did you.”

With that episode out-of-the-way, I feel great. Has my Saturday changed? Can I enjoy the whole day without other interruptions?

The smooth sounds of soft jazz, coming from my television, stops. The loud, loud voice of a FITNESS announcer shakes  the whole room.

“Why are you not exercising, stretching, and getting your heart-rate up?”

“Listen, if you are such a GURU, you’d know I taught fitness five days this week. I’ve stretched to put the laundry in the washer. I lifted dishes into the dishwasher, and I even turned on the vacuum cleaner.”

“But, you are just sitting there doing nothing.”

“So, what? This is my Saturday and I’m gonna enjoy it with words.”

“Words? What kind of exercise is this?”

“Mine.” I shut the television off.

There is no noise, except the hungry noises the two lovers make between the pages of my book.

HAPPY WEEKEND. HAPPY WRITING.

 

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DIETS FOR EVERYTHING

Two friends“Did you check out this title, Ethel?”

“Yeah, but what is everything? At our age, all we need is to be healthy and happy. Still it is intriguing. What say we give it a chance, Edna? Might spice up our lives.”

Yes, in every magazine, newspaper, television advertisement, talk shows, you hear about diet, diet control, eating healthy, smaller portions, and I could go on and on. Yes, you do not need, (the correct word NEED) everything you put on our plate. But, this goes in different directions than food.

What about our writing? You have this idea rambling around in our head. It takes twists and turns, and you want to get it out of the brain cells and onto paper. So, you begin. Page after page after page the words tumble from your fingertips to the keyboard. It might be a pen and paper, as some people like the feel of the heart pushing the pen.

You do not look. You write. Words fill lines, lines fill the computer screen or the paper and you feel contentment flow with each word. At this rate, you’ll have a book drafted in a short time. The writing continues and continues until you decide to rest and see if there are any more words in our heads. Time to put these pages in a drawer, close down the computer, and give a break to your instant work.

A few days later, you open the drawer or turn on the computer and cannot believe what all you have written; words, phrases, duplications, echoes, punctuation, and what about the grammar? Do you sweat this small stuff? No. This is not a book or novel, it is a work in progress, a draft. Where to begin?

A diet for your words – cut, cut, cut. But, these words tell the story. NO. NO. NO. Cut, cut, cut and show your story. Make a chart of all the fat words in your story. Yes, every single fat word. (These are words that have a tendency  to add fluff, which carry many calories, and nothing else.) As you slice, you toss. Leftovers are no good. Soon your pages and pages and pages return to page and page and page. See the difference that single ‘s’ makes? One less calorie.

As you begin to read your material over again, there is a lightness to your words. Your characters feel better, the setting clearer, the story is taking shape. Yep, and you are thrilled with the new story’s shape. Now, you have room to venture your characters into new conflicts, new romances, and they are happy.

Put your words on a diet and see what happens to your writing. A slimmer, more concise function of your words appear and you don’t miss the leftovers.

“Whew, I knew she would never throw stuff at us. But, she got those extra word,” Edna said looking at Ethel. “Don’t you feel a little less constricted?” “Yep, hate to admit it, but she put words on a diet, not us,” Ethel added.

 

 

HAPPY WRITING.

 

 

 

 

 

SUMMER FOR EVERYONE

WheeeeeeHello friends, readers, followers. I hope you are enjoying meeting a lot of my author friends and their new works. I have quite a few more to share with you, BUT wanted to let you know I miss chatting with you.

How do I know it’s Summer?  Besides, heat, humidity, thunder, lightning, and downpours of rain, my hairdresser told me last Friday, “Happy Holiday.” I stared at her–what holiday? “The 4th of July,” she replied. Since I only come in when every hair sticks out straight, up, or out of control, she was right.

On my way home, I became aware of the banners attached to poles announcing the “PEACHTREE ROAD RACE.” Runners practice early morning, mid-morning, afternoon, evening, whenever they can. Sure, I’d noticed more runners than usual, but never gave it a thought about JULY?? I can walk up a block and catch the racers as they run by. Yeah, I clap, yell, scream holler and wished I’d tried it earlier in my years. But, the best part are the wheelchair runners. This moves your heart and inspiration and respectability to full alert. Promise, I’ll try to get pictures if my camera behaves. I point at the object or people and my camera turns the other way. I even took a Camera 101 class and I cannot get the thing to cooperate. But, will do the best I can.

Summer presents a lot of opportunities for writers. Yes, we can sit at the pool and write, or not. Someone asked me, “do you ever get a vacation?” My reply shocked both of us. “Every day is a vacation. I find new clouds in the sky to move and inspire me. Thunderstorms are powerful and I can watch them inside as they blow treetops around me in frenzied patterns on the outside. I’ve noticed the squirrels around my condo, digging in for what the needs might be and ignoring my footsteps near them.  Good sign? Bad Sign? Hunger Sign? Kinda like, ‘please step around me, I’m busy.’

Every day brings new opportunities to all of us, especially writers. As a writer, I tend to notice different things. Summer brings people out of their hidey-holes and into the mainstream of events. People, in general, seem to be more talkative and given the chance can talk you into hearing loss. Music takes people to outdoor concerts, blankets on the park grass, kids dancing to different drum beats, and oops….mom and dad dancing on the grass make the kids run into hiding.

Never, never let go of your summer traditions: picnics, grilling, volleyball, watching your kids play baseball, soccer, or falling asleep under a big oak tree. Enjoy your Summer and look at all it has to offer from a family point of view, a single point of view, but from every point of view of a writer.

Put summer in your writing this year. Remember, come winter, we all want to feel warm, relaxed as only Summer can give us.

HAPPY SUMMER WRITING.

 

Jessica Jefferson and Miss Tisdale Series

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jessica Jefferson Picture(1)Jessica Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she like to think of it….almost Chicago. She is heavily inspired by classic sweeping, historical romance novels, but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialog and comedy. Visit her at http://www.JessicaJefferson.com for more of her random romance musings. FALL IN LOVE WITH ROMANCE AGAIN…

LINKS AND SOCIAL MEDIA:

http://www.JessicaJefferson.com and http://www.embracingromance.com.

Like me at: https://facebook.com/pages/Jessica-Jefferson/54524354219515

Follow me at https://twitter.com/author/jessicaJ/

Add to your Goodreads shelf at http://tinyurl.com/mfnbyk8?/

Compromising Miss Tisdale and Taming Miss Tisdale available Amazon!

 

BLURB:

Miss Tamsin Tisdale believes herself to be completely unsuitable for London Life. After a myriad of social mishaps, the potential ruination of her family name, she’s shipped away to her cousin’s northern estate. Only after she accepts the type of existence Society dictates, she must follow to be welcomed home.

Marcus Winston, the Duke of Grayson, has a lackluster reputation. The last in a dying line, he’s endured a protected life – rank with privilege, but encumbered in isolation. After a brief encounter with rebellion, he learns the devastating consequences of his carelessness and willingly accepts the living life from inside his gilded cage.

However a chance meeting with the brazen Miss Tisdale gives Marcus the opportunity to reinvest himself into the man he always dreamed of being. But when his deception comes to light, and ghosts from both their pasts threaten to unravel the intimacy they’ve come to cherish, will either of them set their fears aside long enough to embrace love? Or will Miss Tisdale’s stubbornness divide them?

Be crertain to check out Taming Miss Tisdale, the ongoing saga of her encounters with the unforgiving family. See if Marcus and Miss Tisdale will reinvent their lives.perf5.000x8.000.indd

 

 

 

COME OVER TO PATRICIACHATS AND MEET SAMANTHYA WYATT

“The Right One” author Samanthya Wyatt

Hello Patricia. Thank you for inviting me.

Please tell us a little bit about yourself.
Ever since I can remember, I have loved curling up with a book. Blue is my favorite color. Never a pink girl. Wonder if that had anything to do with the fire trucks and guns I played with as a child. No dolls for me. I mar¬ried a mil¬i¬tary man, we traveled the United States and abroad. He loves the mountains so we settled in the Shenandoah Valley.
I would love to ski, jump from an airplane, all the things I should have done at a much younger age. Now, I love to go to the beach, read a book, take walks, crochet, watch my grandkids.

I love to make people laugh. My hubby is so silly. And his playfulness has rubbed off on me. Anything can come out of my mouth sometimes, just for fun. I’ll say things that don’t make sense, have people raising their eyebrows, or just busting out with laughter.
I love to do fun things. At my age I still love roller coasters.

Now tell us about your writing career.
I wrote poems and short stories as a child. I signed everything UNKNOWN AUTHOR. When I graduated, my life changed. I married a military man, traveled, and had a family. My own children were in high school before I started writing again. I wrote a story and put it on a shelf, neglected for about 15 years. Then I joined RWA.

I signed up for a ton of workshops, whatever was offered by chapters, RWA, and Savvy Authors. I entered a lot of contests, Rose City Romance Writers,FIRE & ICE, PUT YOUR HEART IN A BOOK… only to name a few. The list is endless.
Feedback is important and you need to look at it as constructive and not insulting. You don’t have to like or agree with the judges, but you should learn from them. Judges comments made me more determined and work harder. In 2013 I was a finalist in Golden Rose Contest and The Right One was awarded Second Place. I met friends through workshops and learned vital information.

One day I was playing around to get my mind off edits and I wrote a scene with two women bantering back and forth. The words seemed to flow. So I ended up writing my first contemporary Something More. Modern day women have more freedom, and my wit seems to come out more with contemporary romance. I have started several stories including a hunky fireman series. Station Eight. Can’t wait to get those published.

Memberships in chapters have helped. RWA on-line, Hearts Through History, RWA Contemporary Romance chapter, I did a pitch session with SAVVY. One of the editors with Soul Mate Publishing asked for a full and now my dream of being published is coming true. One editor asked for my contemporary, and another asked for my historical. Both books will be released in June 2014. I’m over the moon.

What is one place you would like to visit before you die?

The Statue of Liberty in New York City.
In the background, you can see the bridge that is on the cover of my book. I’ve been all over the country, United States and abroad. But I’ve never seen the Statue of Liberty up close. I plan to do that hopefully next year.
Any final thoughts you’d like your readers to know about you or your books?
I enjoy penning a story with strong characters, a bit of humor, and active scenes. I invite you to lay the worries of the world off your shoulders and get lost in the pages of a romance, where you embark on a journey with the hero and heroine, become involved in a dream, plunge into a world of fantasy, live an adventure your heart can share.

SOMETHING MORE

Something More

A determined man, a headstrong woman, and a battle of wills.   Enjoy an excerpt

Matthew just got a jolt to his solar plexus. His eyes darted to her mouth. His breathing slowed at the thought of his tongue sliding across and through those daring, full lips. Why was he even considering the idea?
He’d seen her in the airport. A striking female who had his pulses leaping with excited interest. He was a leg man, and she had killer legs. He thought a light flirtation might be just the thing he needed to recover from a frenzied airport. He’d grabbed a last-minute flight, got stuck in coach, and had to survive the aircraft from hell. Screaming, undisciplined children only made matters worse with the headache from an already bad day. When he’d seen her dash for the taxi, he immediately decided to take full advantage of the opportunity.
One of the sexiest women he’d ever seen sat mere inches away. True, her long blond hair might be plastered against her lovely head and shoulders, but heat came off her like an inferno. Her shoulders squared like a warrior preparing for battle. Blue-eyed, bottle-blondes were too available, too anxious to be the next one in his bed. This poised creature was about as far from a Barbie doll as one could be. She didn’t need to flaunt her beauty like other self-centered females. In only a few moments, she’d shown self-assurance and a strength many men lacked.
She had blue eyes the color of the bluest sky on any summer day. They sparked fire, yet generated warmth. Her intense scrutiny gave a good kick to his already skipping pulse. The magnetism pulled him in like a fish on a reel that wanted to be caught. At the same time, her look cautioned—don’t be too sure of yourself, for I may throw you back.
It had been a long while since he’d seriously craved a woman. Matthew boldly studied her profile. His creative mind already imagined the possibilities. A kiss on her round little nose. A lingering caress over her smooth cheeks. A nibble on her stubborn chin. His gaze traveled lower to find the clinging wet material molded to her body exposed every curve and valley of sinful bliss.
Jesus!
Air hissed between his teeth as he recalled her beaded nipples poking the front of her soaked blouse. His blood thickened and so did another part of him. He shifted hoping to give the impression he was uncomfortable from sodden clothes.
A soft rush of air brushed his damp face causing his gaze to focus on hers. He’d been caught staring—again. Long brown lashes fanned out around her spearing gaze. Her eyes brightened. Sensuous lips promising delight curled into an evocative smile, parted as if awaiting his kiss, and then she laughed. The throaty sound sent electric shocks of awareness drumming through his system.
His body responded to her in a way it had not stirred in a long time, and he relished the moment. His thoughts clouded as his pulse surged. He needed to explore why this creature inflamed his senses and fueled his desire. Thank God, she had a sense of humor.
“I believe in being a gentleman, no matter what you may have deemed from my actions earlier.” Matthew reluctantly released her hand. “Please forgive me.”
He remembered his sister’s puppy, and how sad little eyes had secured her devotion. Matthew tried for the most pitiful look he could manage, hoping to warrant Carrie’s empathy. “Am I forgiven?” A delicious smile formed on her mouth wrenching his groin. Her intoxicating scent made him long to lean closer. The idea of tasting those sumptuous lips led to other delightful fantasies.
“What kind of female would I be if I left a poor unfortunate man out in the cold, pouring rain without a care to his distress?”
If she only knew.
“Surely you’re not suggesting the kind of female as those during the bra burning era? The ones who refuse to allow a man a simple act such as opening the door for them. That type of female would lock the door at the butcher shop and dangle the steak in front of a starving man looking in the window.” He leaned toward her. “But certainly not you. You, dear lady, have been most kind.”
“Kind that I didn’t throw you out after you manhandled me into this vehicle?”
Mathew gave his most disarming grin. “You must take into account I’m not responsible for my actions. I’d just survived irrational people and belligerent children. I landed in bedlam instead of an airport. Disorderly people turned into an angry mob. Then I was distracted by a most beautiful woman. How can I be blamed for my quick thinking?”
The twinkle in her eyes warmed his sense of humor. His gaze dropped to her mouth. The instinct to kiss her rose-colored lips made him wonder what she would taste like. Cherries? Sweet caramel? He concentrated on their fullness instead of the words coming from her mouth. Her voice exposed confidence and control. Forcing his gaze from temptation, he met her stare. Her eyes sent the message—I will chew you up and spit you out if I want to.
A challenge?
How often was it he actually met someone sexy who didn’t immediately try to seduce him? How long since he’d met a woman smart and entertaining. Not only had she captured his attention, she’d seized his curiosity. And nothing got his adrenaline flowing faster than a hardy challenge.

Please visit my webpage: http://www.samanthyawyatt.com
You can also find me on Facebook, Goodreads, Amazon, and SMP Authors.
Thank you for your interest. Tell your friends.

Available June 25th

MEET VICTORIA PENDER – NEW RELEASES – AND A WEDDING

Victoria PenderHow would you handle a new book release on Tuesday, June 11, 2014, another new book release on Wednesday, June 12, 2014, and getting married on Saturday, June 14, 2014?

A little reblog from her own words. “My father is so old school. My name should give you this information. He spoke to the priest at church and wanted us married quick. He also told me that until I write a proper  murder mystery, that I’m not a real author. Sometimes dad can be the worst critic, and had me shaking my head. Old school parents straight out of a Victorian tale. “How do you know he’s the one? Are you sure? I don’t know everything. I don’t know how my life will be in twenty years, but I have a track I prefer. Alive, listening to my heart, and spending my life with him would make everything more amazing. I was quite content on being single until I met my fiance. I had sold books. I was productive. My mind  was at peace, and I even stopped wearing makeup on my face for a few years and went outside. I didn’t melt away. Now, I’m happy to share the small stuff, good days, bad days, glamorous or boring moments. Everything is great and I’ve settled on a life of happiness that is sharing and hopeful. If I rambled, sorry, but I get a little crazy this close to OUR WEDDING.

CHAPERONING PARIS (Book One of the Collins Brothers)Chaperoning Paris Book Reveal

Gigi Dumont never forgot how she walked away from the only man she ever loved. She’s a teacher who has led her students to the finals of an international French competition to be held in Paris. The night before the trip, the Principal tries to cancel the trip before he loses his job to her high school boyfriend, Sean Collins.

Sean Collins has survived cancer, a divorce, and Gigi having aborted their child back in high school. He assumed he’d hate her, if they ever cross paths again. Instead he discovers she’s exactly what he wants.

When Gigi and Sean are stuck together for a week in Paris, Gigi feels she has lost all her control. How can she survive her attraction to Sean. The man’s sexier now that he was back in the day, and once upon a time, he’d had her heart. She finds herself falling for him, even knowing forever is impossible.

 

FAVORITE COFFEE, FAVORITE CRUSH

Penny moves back to Miami to start her new job. She must start on Monday, so she has a list of things to accomplish:

A:  find a place to live.

B:  Avoid her mother.

C:  Reconnect with old high school friends. There was her best friend, Sandra, the dramatic Eva, the dark Michael, her half-brother, Wyatt, and her old high school crush, Jay.

Jay had never looked twice at her except as a partner in math league, but at least these people respected her.

Jay spots Penny immediate and sets a plan in action. He needs her to pretend to be his date this week. She’s practical minded and stable, which is what he needs his investors to see in him.

Penny is caught in a whirlwind of plots. Her gold digging mother. Jay’s mother who is out to stop him. And, her own plans are being thrown off course. Worst of it is that she’s falling for Jay, all over again.

 

 

SLEEP WHERE ARE YOU?

images_025This has been me for the past week. Wide awake when both eyes needed to shut. Why? If I knew the answer, then I could sleep. Do you ever have this problem?

I get enough exercise during the day. Try to eat the healthy foods, but sometimes slip in a juicy burger. I feel like…”where’s the beef,” when my body craves good old red meat and the iron. Then back to the healthy for another long ride.

I try to go to bed at the same time each night, even on weekends. Do not mess with the schedule of rhythms for your sleep. Okay, I don’t. Maybe I should once in a while and see if this could bring shut-eye to me.

Working on the computer in the evenings might be bad for sleep, but worse if something in my head can only come out through my fingertips. Some of my most energetic thoughts seep out at night-time. Yeah, there’s a pad beside my bed, but I can never read what I wrote the next morning.

Do I have stress? Do you have stress? Do we have stress? Of course, this is part of living each day. Sometimes, we let others interfere when we cannot say “no.” Then, we put the pressure on ourselves to do more, be more, and soon there is no more left. No wonder eyes do not shut.

I’ve tried meditation and at times, this has slowed down my brain waves, but as soon as I stop meditating, they pick back up at their regular speed – FAST.

Warm milk, no thanks. I’d be running to deliver this to the white contraption in the bathroom. Turn down the thermostat. Of course, this is necessary when the hot weather and humidity seem to creep in through walls, outlets, windows, and anything with a hole in it. Lights are off. Who could sleep with a light on? Even a ‘nite lite’ would throw shadows on the wall and my mind would become creative in trying to get every shadow named and find a place for it in my work in progress.

Music would not work for me. I love jazz. This is not the best ‘go to sleep’ music. Then I check and make certain all appliances are OFF. Double check the locks, and fall back into bed exhausted. Do my eyes close? Of course not.

These extra chores only create more thoughts for more stories. And my mind is running on its own schedule.  Hey, even the night shades are a mess.  I do not want something covering my eyes. I might miss something.

Noise is something we can control – ear plugs. Then I worry about a break-in and not hearing someone creep inside. Thanks, but no thanks.

So, tonight, I’ll forget about the bed time schedule, and keep truckin’ until my eyes close. If you can’t decipher any of this, then you know my head is on the keyboard. And I am asleep while you are awake reading.

May all of you have pleasant dreams and wake up refreshed and ready to tackle any thing that comes your way.  Beautiful daydreams, too.