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Saturday, September 28, 2013

Spotlight on Roxie Rivera's In Kelly's Corner (+Giveaway)

Blurb: After a stalker breaks into her home, internet entrepreneur Bee Langston decides Kelly Connolly is the only man who can help her—but seeking help from the former Marine isn’t easy, especially after she made a spectacular fool of herself trying to kiss the sinfully sexy bodyguard.

When Kelly spots Bee weaving her way through the Houston nightspot where he’s working security, all those feelings he’s desperately tried to deny for his best friend’s sister come flooding to the surface. He’ll do anything to keep her safe, even if means getting up close and personal with the one woman he simply can’t have.

Soon, Bee’s stalker isn’t his only problem. His gambling addict father is tangled in a mess of debts to two of Houston’s toughest loan sharks. With the family gym on the line, there’s only one way for Kelly to make everything right. He agrees to fight for the Albanian mob in an underground bare-knuckle fighting tournament.

But winning the tournament and saving his family’s legacy comes at a high price—one that just might cost Bee her life.

Review: So yeah, I was waiting on this one and had to read it once it released. I like the way this author writes. Plus, I'm in love with her heroes. You know the type...the bad/good guy that's extremely protective, sweet, and can kick butt when he needs to.

I really dug this book because it featured a lot of characters from Rivera's Russian Protectors series which I enjoyed. And that is also where we first meet Kelly, the hot Marine bouncer working in one of the Russian Protector's night clubs.

Overall, I thought the story had a good flow, was well written, and had a great cast of characters, so it took me no time to read it. Of course, now I can't wait to read about the other Connolly brothers, Jack and Finn.

Available for purchase atAmazon

***To celebrate Roxie's new release, I'm offering up a digital copy of one of her backlisted titles. Just leave me a comment with your email and tell me which you would like to win.***

You can find a list of her titles on Roxie's Website

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Guest post with Caridad Pineiro

Today I'm happy to welcome back Caridad Pineiro to the blog. She is here to share a bit of insight about her heroine from her new release, For Love or Vengeance.

I Was a Runaway Goddess...

Although I didn't really run away. I kind of made a pact with my father, Zeus, so I could get away from him. You see, Zeus isn't really a very nice guy. In fact, you might say he's abusive and that kind of has me gun shy about men in general.

Especially a guy like my new FBI partner, Miguel Sanchez. It's not just that he's hot because I've had my share of hot men in my very long life. It's more than he's honorable and respectful and smart and brave and...

Big sigh. Okay, he's just too good to be true and I've likewise seen that men like that are either not real or don't last very long in this big bad world.

You might say I'm jaded since I'm Nemesis, the Goddess of Vengeance. In the many millenia that I've been working this gig, I've seen too much of the bad side of people.

But Miguel...Yeah, another big sigh. Miguel tempts me with all his goodness and all his sexiness.

It's a dangerous thing, that temptation. You see, I made a deal to get away from not-so-nice dad and if I fail at that deal - to mete out justice - I lose my powers and I don't think I could live like that. Like a mortal with all the faults and risks inherent to being human. I've seen too many times where that leads. Usually to deadness, either emotional or physical.

So my goal on this assignment - my only goal - is to find and stop the crazy ass serial killer that the press is calling the Broadway Butcher. He's been busy kidnapping, torturing and killing young actors and justice demands that he be stopped and punished for his actions.

I demand it and I can't let anyone get in the way. Especially my partner Miguel who just can't understand why I'd do anything - and I mean anything - to get that psycho off the streets.

I know you understand, right? I mean wouldn't you do anything to keep the people you love safe?

There's just one problem. I think I'm in love with him. With Miguel and I've never been in love before, so it's kind of a scary thing. Even for a goddess.

So what would you do? Catch the killer or save your partner? Even a goddess needs help sometimes.

Blurb: FBI Special Agent Helene Alexander is a goddess.  An actual frickin’ goddess. And her mission is clear, see that justice is served at all times or her days as a goddess are numbered.

Helene’s new FBI partner defines good-looking, but Miguel Sanchez, wants nothing to do with her ends-justify-the-means attitude. He knows through experience the type of guilt her actions can bring and Miguel wants nothing to do with Helene’s careless ways. Even if she’s so damned hot she makes him burn with the need.

When the serial killer they’re tracking strikes again, Helene and Miguel are drawn into a case that will challenge their most fundamental beliefs about justice and vengeance. But it’s the passion between them that forces a goddess to choose: eternal life with all her powers…or death—to save the man she loves.

Excerpt: “My job was to protect her,” he finally said through a tightness in his chest that threatened to strangle him.

To his shock, she reached up and cradled the side of his face. Her palm was smooth. So smooth. So warm and…comforting. He had never expected that a woman as hard as Helene could offer comfort, but there it was, adding yet another intriguing layer to his partner. That sensation coursed through him, freeing up the tension in his chest so he could breathe again.

“It was her time. Nothing you did could have changed that,” she said with absolute certainty.

Her words resonated within him, bringing unexpected peace as if she were a priest who had just granted him absolution.

He brushed his hand against the thick waves of her hair and urged them away from her cheek. Then he dug his fingers into their softness, cupped her jaw, and tracked his thumb along the edge of her mouth.

“Thank you,” he said, at a loss to find any other words to express what he was feeling. Knowing in his gut that there was only one thing that might.

He leaned forward until her warm breath spilled against his lips. Her gaze filled with part surprise and part anticipation. A heartbeat later, he allowed insanity to take over.

* * * *

Helene’s breath became trapped in her chest as Miguel closed the distance between them and covered her mouth with his.

Craziness, she thought for a millisecond before all that he was—all that goodness and honor and sexiness—made her lose her head. Her supposedly more powerful refined goddess senses didn’t stand a chance against the wonder of his kiss.

He moved lightly against her mouth, an invitation rather than a command, as if knowing the latter would have been refused. Tentatively she accepted, meeting the sweep of his lips and deepening the contact. She opened her mouth to taste him and permit his exploration as he eased the tip of his tongue in to graze hers.

She moaned with need and the unexpected desire he aroused. The sound was loud in the quiet of the room. So loud it awakened them from whatever insanity had possessed them, breaking them apart.

They were both breathing heavily as she stood there, her fists clenched against the desire to reach for him again.

Someone walking in might have assumed they were fighting. And maybe they were. She was definitely fighting—for control.

He spoke first. “I’m sorry, Helene. That was out of line.”

“No need to apologize. We’re both adults and desire is a natural thing,” she said, attempting to downplay her fear that it had been much more than passion that had brought them together.

It worked. Miguel wasn’t the kind of man who indulged in desire just for desire’s sake. That would be too shallow. His lips—those mobile, engaging lips that had only seconds before brought her such pleasure—became a pencil-thin line.

“It won’t happen again,” he said, and before she could utter another word, he stalked from the room.

Available for purchase atEntangled Publishing

Author Bio: New York Times and USA Today bestselling paranormal and romantic suspense author Caridad Pineiro wrote her first novel in the fifth grade when her teacher assigned a project – to write a book for a class lending library. Bitten by the writing bug, Caridad continued with her passion for the written word and in 1999, Caridad’s first novel was released. Over a decade later, Caridad is the author of more than thirty published novels and novellas. When not writing, Caridad is an attorney, wife and mother to an aspiring writer and fashionista.

Be sure to visit Caridad atWebsite

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Guest post with Annie Seaton (+Giveaway)

Luxury and more...

In my last guest blog with SnarkyMomReads I wrote about the desolate outback where Gracie worked and lived, and explained why I didn’t go into a lot of detail about where she came from.

So where does she end up? Without giving too many clues away she goes from a beat up old boat to a luxury waterfront house in the blink of an eye.

Heading off in the opposite direction—the last thing she wanted was to stumble into the bathroom he was showering in—she padded softly in her bare feet down a tiled hall which opened into a huge kitchen and informal dining area. The kitchen was clinically bare, filled with stainless steel appliances and a huge expanse of cream granite counter tops. It looked down over a formal dining room with a huge stone table, which faced another glass wall overlooking the bay from a different angle. She wandered through the house looking into the rooms where the doors were open and ignoring the rooms with closed doors. The house was huge and she only explored the ground level. A staircase led to a mezzanine level from each end of the corridor. The view from up there would be amazing.

How nice would it be to live in a house like that on a tropical island? Oh… and I forgot to mention the pool…

An elegant dining setting barely filled the huge tiled area. A profusion of brightly colored shrubs spilled down the wall to the swimming pool which sparkled in the afternoon sun. A huge expanse of green lawn edged with gently swaying palms led down to the high brick fence at the back of the property.

So tell me about the most luxurious place you have ever stayed and what was special about it? And don’t forget to enter the draw for the matching jewelry and gift card.

Come on over and visit the next blog stop with ReadersEdyn to see Gracie’s next luxury stop. It all sounds as though she is having a lovely time but this little luxury tour is not telling you about the thrills and surprises she is having!

Come along and be pampered in an Annie Seaton read and find that magical spark!

Blurb: A desperate search…
Schoolteacher Gracie James has never seen more danger than her seventh grade classroom, but when she goes searching for her missing sister, she’s thrown into a world of sex, crime…and passion. Following a hot lead, she sneaks onto a stranger’s boat—and gets caught. Their one-sided conversation convinces her of two things. One: the guy is seriously sexy. Two: he knows something about her sister. Oh, yeah. And did she mention he’s sexy?

And a sizzling attraction…

Jake Alexander, former cop, is staking out a yacht brimming with criminal activity, for an insurance company, when a woman, dressed to kill and totally irresistible, stumbles into his dangerous undercover op. If he hadn’t tackled her, she’d have tottered straight onto the questionable yacht in those ridiculous high heels. Then she’d be dead. Or worse. As much as he’d like to kick her off his boat, he can’t risk her going off on some hare-brained scheme—but he can’t keep her around to muck up his job. Oh, yeah. And did he mention she’s distracting as hell?

Lead to dangerous desire…

Unfortunately, she has a keen mind of her own. And a body any man would die for. Jake’s attempt to keep Gracie safe quickly morphs into a reluctant alliance. And a whole lot more… But Gracie finds herself knee deep in more trouble than she bargained for, with secrets revealed and the criminals coming after her. Unless they find a way to trust each other, they’re finished. Oh, yeah. And did they mention they’re in love?

Excerpt: Turning her head slowly, Gracie strained to see her surroundings in the dim light and her gaze fixed on the shadowy shapes of equipment above her. Three cameras and a variety of telescopic lens sat on the shelf near the hatch.

“Oh my God, you’re sitting in here in the dark taking photos of those people? What are you a pervert…or paparazzi or something?” Before he could answer, a glimmer of hope filled her chest and she turned to him. “How long have you been here? Taking photos, I mean.”

He looked at her strangely and an idea flashed into her mind. Before she could think about the consequences, she seized the opportunity. She slid slowly back over the seat toward him, curled her fingers and reached up to his face, lightly brushing the rough stubble on his cheek with the back of her hand. His jaw was set rock hard and he didn’t move. She leaned in closer to him and dropped her voice to a whisper.

“So…you’ve got some photos of the…er…action on the Midas? Maybe we could look at them together?” She opened her mouth a little and ran the tip of her tongue across her top lip. “We might be able to make our own fun here?”

“Why?” he asked. “You think looking at the photos will turn me on?” A look of boredom crossed his face in the dim light. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen it all, but it you want to play, I’m happy to oblige.”

Gracie’s heart lodged in her throat when he lifted his hand and placed it at the side of her neck and she held her breath, waiting for his fingers to circle her throat. He curled his fingers and imitated the way she had caressed his cheek. His touch was warm and he trailed them down her neck and continued until they rested on the swell of her breast above the low cut neckline. “I’ll show you the photos…and then…”

She drew in a quick breath as his eyes narrowed and he slowly lowered his mouth toward hers. Time seemed to stand still as she tipped her head back on the seat and his lips came closer—inch by inch until his warm breath fanned her lips. His hand slid down to her bare thigh and the hair lifted on the back of her neck and her arms. The heat of his touch penetrated her skin and her heart raced with a dizzying mix of fear and excitement.

It was like a game of cat and mouse as though each was teasing the other to see how far the other would go before they pulled back. Slowly his lips touched hers and she opened her mouth as heat flooded her. His fingers crept up her thigh and ripples of pleasure shot through her. Gracie was the first to break—she reached down and grabbed his hand to still it on its journey up her thigh. For a couple more seconds the hardness of his mouth claimed hers until he pulled back and spoke coldly.

“You like to play dangerous games, but this is not a game. Now I want the truth.”

Available for purchase at: Amazon

 Author Bio: Annie Seaton lives with her husband, and ‘Bob’ the dog and two white cats in a house next to the beach on the east coast of Australia. She sits in her writing chair, gazing at the ocean and writing stories.  Their two children are grown and married and she loves spending time gardening, walking on the beach and spoiling her two grandchildren. She has always been fascinated by all things romantic and has found her niche in life writing romance novels, ranging through contemporary, historical, suspense and paranormal…but all with romance of course.

Her love of reading and history began at an early age and she was a child who always carried a book (or two) no matter what she was doing. Several of her favourite books were confiscated from beneath her desk by teachers who had no understanding of her capacity to read while she was doing her schoolwork!

Her working life has seen her through several major career changes and Annie has now retired from the world of full time work and has fulfilled her lifelong dream of becoming a published author.

Annie’s debut full length novel, Holiday Affair, a contemporary romance set in the South Pacific was released as part of Entangled Publishing’s Indulgence line in March 2012 and has been a best seller on both Amazon, and Barnes and Noble. The sequel Italian Affair was released in June 2013, and will be followed shortly by Outback Affair. Annie has more books being released in 2013 and 2014 with Entangled Publishing in the Bliss, Entangled Ignite and Covet imprints.

In appreciation of the supportive author community, Annie has written a book on promotion to share the secrets of her success: Promotional Tips and Tricks for Aspiring Authors in the Digital Landscape.

Be sure to visit Annie atWebsite

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Monday, September 23, 2013

Review of Lovers Unmasked Anthology

Title: Lovers Unmasked (anthology)
Author: Katee Robert, Cari Quinn, Tessa Bailey, Samanthe Beck
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Length: 350 pages
Release Date: September 2013
ISBN: 978-1-62266-271-5
Imprint: Brazen

Blurb: Mystery and intrigue surround Halloween night as friends surrender to long-hidden desires, lovers relinquish control, and the heat of passion threatens to consume them all...

Seducing Mr. Right by Katee Robert
Danielle has a plan—use the company Halloween party to seduce the sexy mail guy who works a few floors up who she’s been meeting for coffee for the past few months. The only problem? He’s not who she thinks he is, and he has seduction plans of his own.

Tempted by His Best Friend by Cari Quinn
Kindergarten teachers aren’t known for breaking the rules, but Steph is ready to go undercover—and get under the covers—to work her magic on her best friend, Landon. Sexy costume necessary, multiple orgasms crucial, real identity optional.

Wicked Games by Samanthe Beck
When Stacy discovers her sex-on-a-stick ex at her Hollywood Halloween blow-out, she decides to show the cocky homicide detective exactly what he’s been missing. But she’s not the only one plotting revenge, and Ian’s the only one who can save her.

Protecting What’s Theirs by Tessa Bailey
Lieutenant Derek Tyler and Ginger Peet have overcome every seemingly impossible hurdle on the path to happiness, but when they each receive life-changing news on the same day, will their hard-won trust stand up to the test? Or will their attempts to shield one another drive them apart?

Review: You know, I have to say I'm really loving anthologies after reading this. It was a great way to try out a few authors I haven't had a chance to read yet. And, well, I'm sold. Just saying.

I can't really divulge more than what the blurbs already state for the short stories without giving away too much. Overall, each one of them was well written with developed, likeable characters. Each author created a hell of a lot of sexual tension in their stories and delivered some spicy "intimate" scenes. Of course, I loved it. :)

I really enjoyed all four of the stories, but I think Wicked Games and Protecting What's Theirs (Derek's my fictional boyfriend. Just so you know.) were my two favorites out of all of them. I'll definitely be bumping up the stories I've already picked up from these authors on my kindle.

If you're looking for a sexy Halloween read that will give you a great feel for each author's writing style, grab a copy. I really don't think you'll be disappointed with it.

Available for purchase: Amazon

*Received as an ARC from the publisher.*

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Felicity Heaton's Her Wicked Angel Blog Barrage (+Giveaway & A Freebie)

Her Wicked Angel, the sixth book in Felicity Heaton’s Her Angel romance series, is now available, and to celebrate the release she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website, offering Her Guardian Angel at an incredible discount, and she’s also giving away the first book in the series, Her Dark Angel, for FREE at selected Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books and Apple iBookstore sites. Just click the link the pick up your free copy.

Find out how to enter the Her Wicked Angel international giveaway (ends September 29th) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website, where you can also download a 6 chapter sample of the novel: Felicity Heaton - Her Wicked Angel

SPECIAL OFFER: If you’re a Kindle, Kobo or Apple iBooks user, don’t forget to download your copy of Her Guardian Angel for only $0.99. That’s a $4 discount. Offer ends September 27th. Find all the links at: Felicity Heaton's Website

Here’s more about Her Wicked Angel, including an excerpt from this long angel romance novel.

Blurb: The King of Demons and the Devil’s right hand man, Asmodeus is a dark angel born of evil and created for destruction. When his master orders him to venture into the mortal world and retrieve a female for him, he seizes the chance to leave Hell for the first time, uncaring of what the Devil has planned for her… until he sets eyes on the most beautiful woman he has ever seen—a female who awakens new feelings within his black heart, unleashing passion so intense that it controls him and desire he cannot resist.

He will not let his wretched master have her. She will belong to him.

Liora is a witch with a bad reputation and an obsession with fighting demons. A mission gone wrong sees her sent to Paris to cool off, but when a dark and deadly warrior with a gaze of golden fire lands in her life, she ends up burning hotter than Hell for the wicked angel. Nothing will stand between her and the immense, forbidding male. Not her cousin. Not Asmodeus’s sworn enemy and twin, Apollyon. And certainly not the Devil.

Caught up in a tempest of danger and soul-searing passion, can they survive against the odds and seize their forever after?

Excerpt: Liora stared deep into the incredible swirling gold depths of Asmodeus’s eyes. She had countless reasons not to trust him, but she couldn’t bring herself to listen to them or her head where he was concerned.

The moment she had set eyes on him, loitering under the Eiffel Tower, looking as though he was contemplating tearing through the crowd with claw and fang, a current had run through her, setting her heart racing. She could sense the darkness in him, the incredible evil that flowed in his veins, but in the background, she could feel a faint glimmer of good. That tiny sliver had given her the courage to speak with him.

She had wanted to know him.

Her picture of him had been as incomplete as his armour before today. She had found out about him when she had overheard her cousin talking with Apollyon and they had realised she had been hiding in the hallway of their apartment, listening in. She had pressed Apollyon to tell her about Asmodeus.

Apollyon had painted a bleak picture of his counterpart, telling her that Asmodeus was pure evil, without a shred of good in him. Had he lied to her and to Serenity?

Liora looked at Asmodeus again, recalling how Apollyon often referred to him as a creature, as if he didn’t deserve angelic, demonic or even human status.

As if he were an animal.

Something below their level.

There was darkness in him, she couldn’t deny that or the fact that the evil he harboured had come to the surface at times and the strength of it had shocked her enough to make her reconsider her desire to know more about him.

He wasn’t an animal though.

She couldn’t view him like that. He was as real as Apollyon and her too.

He was intelligent, powerful, and felt warm beneath her fingers. She had caught the flickers of true emotions in him. He had been shocked, dismayed and even offended by her questions and her observations so far. Her behaviour had intrigued, and possibly confused him.

He felt things.

He wasn’t as Apollyon painted him at all. Did Apollyon really know Asmodeus?

Had he never witnessed this side of his twin?

It was likely that Asmodeus had never had reason to reveal this side of himself to Apollyon. They had probably ended up locked in battle whenever they had come across each other.

He had revealed it to her though. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that she liked it. She liked being around him and seeing how she affected him. It fascinated her.

“Rose?” The heavily-accented male voice jolted her and her heart skipped a beat, shock running through her blood at the sudden intrusion into her quiet moment with Asmodeus.

A young man offered a bunch of plastic-wrapped single red roses to her and then to Asmodeus and she lifted her hand from Asmodeus’s face, meaning to refuse the street vendor.

“Rose?” The man smiled at Asmodeus and then held his free hand out in her direction.

All Hell broke loose.

Her Wicked Angel is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and many other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Find all the links, a fantastic 6 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also how to enter the Her Wicked Angel giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website: Felicity Heaton - Her Wicked Angel

Books in the Her Angel romance series:
Her Dark Angel (Her Angel romance series book 1)
Her Fallen Angel (Her Angel romance series book 2)
Her Warrior Angel (Her Angel romance series book 3)
Her Guardian Angel (Her Angel romance series book 4)
Her Demonic Angel (Her Angel romance series book 5)
Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel romance series book 6)

Find out more about the Her Angel series at Goodreads

Author Bio: Felicity Heaton writes passionate paranormal romance books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. In her books she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons!

If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, Felicity Heaton’s best selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series she writes as F E Heaton or any of her stand alone vampire romance books she writes as Felicity Heaton. Or if you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try Felicity Heaton’s new Vampire Erotic Theatre series.

In 2011, five of her six paranormal romance books received Top Pick awards from Night Owl Reviews, Forbidden Blood was nominated as Best PNR Vampire Romance 2011 at The Romance Reviews, and many of her releases received five star reviews from numerous websites.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places: Website - Blog - Facebook - Twitter - Goodreads

***Felicity is kind enough to offer a digital copy of Her Fallen Angel(the second book in the Her Angel series) to one person on this blog. Be sure to enter the rafflecopter below to enter to win. Good luck!***

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Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Cover reveal for Laura Kaye's East of Ecstasy

Blurb: Annalise Fallston made peace with postponing her big-city dreams to care for her ill father, but lately she’s been filled with a restlessness not even her beloved painting dispels. Worse, the colors don’t speak to her as they always have, and all her efforts produce dark, foreboding images of a dangerous man and a terrifying future.

Devlin Eston, black-souled son of the evil Anemoi Eurus, is the only one who can thwart his father’s plan to overthrow the Supreme God of Wind and Storms. But first, Dev must master the unstable powers he’s been given. Distrusted and shunned by his own divine family, he never expected to find kindness and passion in the arms of a mortal.

But Devlin’s love puts Annalise in the path of a catastrophic storm, and in the final Armageddon showdown between the Anemoi and Eurus, sacrifices will be made, hearts broken, and lives changed forever…or lost.

Books in Series:

North of Need
West of Want
South of Surrender

Author Bio: Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over a dozen books in paranormal and contemporary romance. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Nina Croft's Deadly Pursuit Book Blast (+Giveaway)

Blurb: Breaking assassin Jonathon Decker out of a maximum-security prison on Trakis One seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, pursued across space by the two most powerful factions in the universe, the crew of El Cazador are having second thoughts. They’d like to give him back. Unfortunately, that is no longer an option.

Jon is used to working alone. Now, he’s stuck on the space cruiser El Cazador until he can work out just what he’s supposed to know that puts him on everybody’s most-wanted-dead list. He’s not happy that the crew includes a runaway priestess with designs on his virtue—such as it is. Jon likes women, but he gave up the role of protector a long time ago, and Alexia, High Priestess of the Church of Everlasting Life, is an accident waiting to happen.

After twenty-four excruciatingly boring years of doing her duty, Alex is finally having some fun. She never meant to run away—it was a rash impulse—and she means to go back—eventually. But first, she’s going to squeeze enough excitement out of the situation to last her a lifetime. And what could be more exciting than a stunningly gorgeous werewolf?

Meanwhile, the Church are chasing their missing priestess, and the Collective are pursuing their escaped assassin. Being hunted has never been more deadly…or more fun.

Deadly Pursuit Book Trailer

Available for purchase at: Amazon

Author Bio: Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of nine-to-five work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain.

Nina's writing mixes romance with elements of paranormal and science fiction.

Be sure to visit Nina at: Website

***Also, Nina is generously offering a giveaway. She is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Card and a vampire necklace. Just enter the rafflecopter below to be eligible to win. Good luck!***

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Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Happy New Release to Stacey Brutger (+Giveaway)

Book 2 in the Raven Investigations Series

Raven’s very private life explodes into the spotlight when she is nominated as a Region on the paranormal police force. The secrets of her past are slowly being exposed. With the safety of the pack paramount, she will do whatever is necessary to protect them. In return, they are teaching her how to navigate the shifter community and control the moon’s call where even the most innocent touch could destroy her carefully crafted world.

As she juggles the demands of pack life and police work, the lines between duty and loyalty blur. Shifters are dying in mysterious ways. Raven suspects something sinister is destroying the pack from within. She must dig into the dark corners of the paranormal world, secrets that they would kill to protect, and find the reason behind the deaths before her pack becomes the next target.

Available for purchase atAmazon

 Author Bio: Stacey Brutger lives in a small town in Minnesota with her husband, son and an assortment of animals.

When she's not reading (from the towering stack of books she can't resist buying), she enjoys creating stories about exotic worlds and grand adventures...then shoving in her characters to see how they'd survive. She enjoys writing anything paranormal from contemporary to historical.

Be sure to visit Stacey at: Website

***To help Stacey celebrate her new release, I'm offering two people a digital copy of the first book in the series, Electric Storm. Just comment with your email address to be entered to win. :)***

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Spotlight on Lisa Kumar's An Earl in Time (+Giveaway)

Blurb: As a research scientist, Julia Avers travels through time to sleuth out the mys-teries of past ages. When a rich client commissions her company to send her to 1812 London, she never dreams she’ll land in the townhouse of the Earl of Correlton. He’s handsome, and though she’s from the future, he wants her. Too bad he’s not above stranding her in his home by taking away her only means of escape—her invisibility transmitter.

James Noddingdon, the Earl of Correlton, is bored with all the pleasures Lon-don has to offer. When an invisible woman drops into his lap and reveals her-self to him, he feels fate has intervened and given him his intended mate. She claims she needs to find the person who will steal the famed Ring of Claremont. Seeking a way to court her, he demands she stay with him and his grandmother for her week in London.

After their week is over, Julia hopes to return home. But will she find that her home—as well as her heart—now rests elsewhere?

Excerpt: Lord Correlton, his face set in resolute lines, placed his hands flat on the desk’s surface and leaned over. “You won’t be going anywhere.”

Julia’s mouth worked wordlessly for several moments. “What… what did you say?” Surely, she’d heard him wrong, and he hadn’t told her what to do.

He stood from his leaning position and looked down his nose at her. “You heard quite clearly.”

Fire kindled in her chest, burning away any of the previous ache. She rose from her chair and graced him with her fiercest glower. “That was what I was afraid of. Who do you think you are, telling me what I can or can’t do?”

He stalked around the desk to loom over her. She held her ground, though it took every ounce of willpower. When had he gotten so tall? Thankfully, he made no effort to touch her, though some tiny portion of her traitorous body didn’t agree.

As he gazed at her, his eyes seemed to spit green flame. “I’m the man protecting you. I don’t care if you have all these gadgets that supposedly make you invincible. We saw how that went last time, didn’t we?”

His intensity shocked her into silence. When she didn’t answer, he lifted an arrogant brow. That broke her out of her stupor, and outright fury exploded at his arrogance. Oh, he wasn’t getting the best of her. No way.

She glared at him. “I think it has more to do with you pulling rank as an earl”— she curled her fingers in the air as she said the word earl— “than out of any true concern for me.”

“Forget my title. Right now, all I’m concerned about is an infuriating woman from the future who plans on prancing around places she doesn’t know.”

Her hands clenched. Prancing? She didn’t prance. Then his other words sank in. If she didn’t know better, it almost sounded like he was worried about her safety. But he’d barely met her, so his interest couldn’t be anything more than what he’d give any person in her place. Still, some nosey part of her prodded her to ask, “Why do you care?”

He raked a hand through his hair, frustration leaking out of every breath he took. “You’re different. I’ve been searching…. Gah! How do I explain this without sounding like a lunatic?”

“Just spit it out.”

Available for purchase at: Astraea Press

Be sure to visit Lisa at: Website
***Be sure to comment with your email to be entered to win a digital copy of An Earl in Time***

Friday, September 6, 2013

Stella Cameron's Blog Hop Spotlight Tour

Blurb: You can't outrun the past...

...and tripping over a frosted corpse is a complication that could destroy Alex Duggins' attempt to restart her life. The discovery of a murder victim threatens to unearth some old secrets, including her own.

As the tiny town of Folly-on-Weir braces for a chilling winter and snow blankets Britain's Cotswold Hills, a killer faces a deadline. A terrible crime was believed to be safely hidden, but time and conscience can wear on a secret.

The clock ticks and with the police breathing down her neck, Alex knows she's at the top of the suspect list. Desperate to clear her name and find the real murderer she begins to peel back the layers of deception that have long-concealed one of the town's darkest secrets. But time is also running out for a killer who has nothing left to lose. What's one more murder?

Someone intends that Alex will be the next snow-covered body found in the beautiful hills above the town.

Excerpt: How long had it taken to change a life forever? A minute, ninety seconds – while he listened, barely understanding, while two men destroyed his own young innocence, and allowed another child to die?
    Nothing was ever the same after that day. All the days and years that followed had led to this night of hope and fear.
    “Come on boy, catch up,” Dominic called. “We’ll freeze if we don’t keep moving.”
    The only reason he could see the dog at all in the darkness was that his dark gray fur showed up against a thickening carpet od snow underfoot, and the falling flakes that grew heavier with each moment.
    Brother Dominic stopped and watched Bogie approach like a trotting miniature show horse in slow motion, lifting each foot as if it burned.
    “Okay, we’ll keep each other a bit warmer.” He swept up his little grey buddy and tucked him inside an old tweed coat. “Now we’ve got to get a move on. This is a borrowed coat and we need to give it back to Percy.”
    Talking to his dog was an indulgence Dominic reserved for when they were alone. He smiled at the thought. They were rarely as alone as they were in the middle of the night, on this hill in the Cotswold Hills that were so spectacular in the daylight, yet so pitiless when every step was an act of faith.
`    He had pulled the hood on his habit up to cover his head and ward off some of the cold. The old, brown cloth was already soaked and started to freeze.
    Silence seemed absolute. Except when a gust of wind sent frigid, leafless branches raking together.
    Not a single vehicle had passed on the narrow road that forked away from the tiny village below and rose to traverse the hill. There was a scatter of farms and houses up here, all with feeder tracks from the road. But any people out there were probably tucked up sleeping by now.
    You couldn’t see any buildings form the road.
    Bogie scrabbled closer and pressed his wet nose to Dominic’s neck.
    The wind picked up, drove straight at him, and he leaned against it to push his way on, and the snow drove into his face and crammed inside his collar.
    He crossed his hands over the dog and pushed his bare hands beneath his arms.
    This has to be done.
    Old wrongs must be put right, lies dispelled quickly for the sake of peace, his own but more importantly, the others involved. His challenge was to bring secrets into the light without harming the innocent.

Available for purchase at: Amazon

 Author Bio: Stella Cameron is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author. With over fourteen million copies of her books in print, Cameron is now turning her pen to mysteries and independently publishing COLD, Introducing Alex Duggins. She draws on her English background for this new, already critically acclaimed mystery series. Atmospheric, deeply character and relationship driven, COLD reveals the power of old secrets to twist the present. Cameron's reputation for using her backgrounds to add tension and allure to her stories is heightened again.
Cameron is the recipient of the Pacific Northwest Achievement Award for distinguished professional achievement and for enhancing the stature of the Northwest Literary community. She lives in Washington with her husband Jerry, her Papillon Millie, black cat Zipper, and a cheeky little tabby named Jack.

Be sure to visit Stella at: Website

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Character Interview with Tmonique Stephen's new hero of Everlasting (+Giveaway)

I'm happy to have author Tmonique Stephens on the blog today. :) She's here to share a bit of insight to the hero of her new release, Everlasting.

***Also, I have a digital copy of Tmonique's first book in her Descendants of Ra Series, Eternity, up for grabs. Just comment with with your email address and I'll randomly select one person to receive a copy.***

Meet Reign Nicolis

I stepped through the whirling vortex to another realm with my cellphone in my jacket pocket, already recording. This was the interview that could change my career and no inter-dimensional time portal would stop me from delivering the goods.

I kept that in mind as my atoms separated and hurtled me to an unknown destination. It took a lot of faith stepping into a swirling light show knowing I was leaving earth.

When I emerged slightly dizzy, fighting nausea and stumbling around, strong hands grabbed my arms, steadied me. I looked into the face of Reign Nicolis. I’d interview his twin over a year ago. Though his hair brushed his massive shoulders, the same brutally handsome face stared at back at me. He had a square jaw, softened by a five o’clock shadow, deep blue eyes a woman could drown in, set under thick eyebrows and a straight forehead partially hidden by his hair.

“Mrs. Stephens, it is a pleasure. Please, sit.” He pointed to a set of chairs and a table laden with covered trays and wine.

That’s when I noticed we were on a wide stone terrace overlooking a steep cliff. I walked the edge, careful of the lack of railing and peered at the lavender sky.

“Where are we?” I asked Reign as he stood next to me.

“I think we are in Chemmis, the Egyptian realm, though I am not positive.”

He’s not positive? How can you live somewhere and not know where you are?

Reign held out the chair for me to sit. “May I offer some wine? Food?”

I looked at the cart and was overwhelmed by the choices. “Wine.” I couldn’t resist. He poured while I gathered my wits.

“May I ask you a question, Mrs. Stephens?” Reign said.

Huh? He waited until I had a mouth full of wine to put me on the spot. “Of course.”

“Why have you chosen to write about me?”

“Well,” I took another sip. “You fascinate me. From the story I’ve gathered through reports and sightings I wanted to discover the man behind the growing myth.”

“What is the myth?”

He leaned forward and I was blinded by his allure. How could any woman resist him? “That you're a demi-god, you escaped from an enslavement forced on you by a jealous god for sleeping with his wife.” His eyes darkened and I wondered if I struck a nerve. “Is it true?” I pushed, needing an answer.

“Do you believe it’s true?”

That was my reason for being here, but now I sit across from the legend himself, mesmerized by him, I wasn’t sure. “I’m here to find that out.”

His face clouded and tensed. “Ask your questions, Mrs. Stephens.”

I decided to start with a soft question. “Who are you're parents?” A muscle flexed in his jaw. Maybe the question wasn’t soft enough.

“My father was human, a soldier, my mother, a goddess of the Egyptian Pantheon.”

“Which goddess?” I asked. He shrugged, but I didn’t buy it. “How old are you, Mr. Nicolis.” I knew how old his twin, Roman was and wanted to see if Reign would tell me the truth.

“I stopped keeping track eons ago.”

“You were a mercenary—a soldier—for profit. Are you still one?”

I didn’t believe him. “How many men have you killed, Mr. Nicolis?”

“I have not kept count.”

“Are you a vigilante? Do you have a hero complex?”

“Is that what you call a man who protects the innocent?”

“You don’t answer a question with a question, Mr. Nicolis.”  I had to get this interview back on track. Or maybe a different track. “Detective Alexis Lever is missing, do you have any information about her whereabouts?”

His expression changed again, became hardened. “Alexis Lever is not a part of this discussion.”

Alexis Lever, not Detective Lever. Hmm. So, he did know something.  “Her family is worried about her.”

“I believe you mean the authorities.” He countered.

“Her father offered a reward.” I added, pushing for a reaction.

“For her arrest? What father offers a reward for his child’s arrest?” he said, slouching back in his chair, his expression smug.

“The kind who wants her back, who wants respects the law and wants justice regardless of his feelings.” Guessing at her father’s motivation wouldn’t help with this interview.

“Are you and the Detective involved, Mr. Nicolis?” His eyebrows quirked up. “In a sexual relationship.” I added.

Another vortex opened, stars twinkled in the aperture, and then a woman stepped through. The aforementioned, missing Detective Alexis Lever arrived with a smile on her lips and a sway to her hips. She saw me and the smile faded, her steps faltered. Her gaze cut to Reign, a question in their depths.

I watched them, judged their reaction to each other and me. Reign held out his hand. With no hesitation, she took it and allowed Reign to draw her to him. He stood, embraced her in his arms, and molded her curves to his.

I waited for the kiss, needing to see their passion as evidence of the emotion’s existence. Instead, Reign and Alexis turned to me; their blank faces gave nothing away.

“Mrs. Stephens this interview is over,” Reign said.

I opened my mouth to argue, but between one blink and the next, I was through the vortex and standing in a deserted lot next to an apartment building. Wasn’t the first time I was dismissed by an interview subject. At least I had the recording.

I stuck my hand inside my jacket pocket only to find it empty. My cellphone was gone. “Damn it!”

Blurb: Kill the beast.
Save your brother.
Win your freedom.
No problem.
Falling in love with the cop trying arrest you?

To save his twin from death, Reign Nicolis will have to bargain with Goddess of the Dead, and once more become what he despises, El Mortem, The Scourge, a killer trained to show mercy to none. But he is haunted by those who have fallen beneath his blade. Their ghostly shapes dog his footsteps, relentless in their torture to make him suffer for what he was put on this earth to do two thousand years ago. Saving his twin ensures Reign’s enslavement to the Goddess. She may own his body, but never his heart.

Detective Alexis Lever’s career is in shambles. Her only chance at redemption is to discover what happened to the body of Daniel Nicolis. To do that she’ll have to thwart two men: Reign Nicolis and Roman Nicolis. Both belong in jail. But one has stolen her heart.

Excerpt: A force yanked Reign to a stop, reeled him back, and slammed him to the ground. Pain ripped through his head. The Vanquished, his personal army of demons, shrieked inside his skull. He’d thought Nephythys would have alleviated the curse so he could return quickly to her servitude. He wasn’t surprised fortune didn’t favor him. It never had.

For countries, for kings, and for emperors, he killed. To honor the Nicolis name, he killed. And to protect the one person he loved—his brother—he killed. Too many to count fell beneath his blade, but each victory came with a price.

Roman must return. Without his brother’s easy temperament to balance the darkness in Reign’s soul, the Vanquished ruled, and he would become a madman, no better than the beast he chased. Soon he would lose rational thought and descend into madness. He hadn’t traveled all this way to become the thing he would destroy. No. His fingers cracked the hard surface of the black ground, searching for earth to hold onto and center him. Sometimes touching the ground from which all things sought sustenance helped suppress the riot in his brain. But there was no dirt beneath the surface of this strange ground. An ashy, gray substance covered his fingers instead of fertile earth.

A distant whimper reached Reign and gave him the strength to turn his head a fraction. A woman stumbled from the house. She wobbled on unsteady legs. A wild, curly mass of hair obscured her view. She rested on one of the wooden columns. One wrong step and she’d trip on the scattered debris and tumble down the stairs. He had to get to her before she fell.

Fighting the invisible demons weighing him down, Reign forced himself to his knees. Then he crawled. With each step, the cries of the Vanquished lessened, replaced by calming silence. If he were pious, he would offer a prayer that she stay put until her reached her.

She pushed away from the column. Her knees buckled. Seconds before her skull would’ve smashed onto the ground, Reign materialized. He dove beneath her and absorbed the brunt of the fall.

Damn the gods.

The feel of her solid form blasted through his petrified center. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this. Human contact. The simple act of touching and being touched. Warmth and the softness of a woman. So long denied, now he feasted.

He buried his face in her mass of curly hair and inhaled jasmine and honey. A moan ripe with longing ripped from his throat and he fitted her lush curves more intimately to him. She shivered and her breath curled in the air. Gently, he rolled and let her slide from his arms to her back. The pale glow of artificial light bathed her face and he forgot to breathe. Something so lovely couldn’t be real. Wasn’t real. Touching her shouldn’t be allowed.

Desire to taste her luscious lips—this one time—dug its claws into him, and drew him near. He brushed her wild tresses from her face and stroked a finger down her cheek, leaving a bloody streak. A quick search and he discovered a gash on the side of her head. He hadn’t saved her. And while he pawed her like an untried youth, she lay dying.

Available for purchase at: Amazon

Author Bio: Tmonique Stephens wrote her first novel about a reporter and a hockey player after the U.S. hockey team won gold in the 1980 Olympics. She loves writing flawed characters who reflect the emotional baggage we all carry. She writes complicated stories for complicated people. Paranormal romances and fantasy novels are her favorite genre. She will read anything about fairies, demons, or angels.  She also enjoys Stephen King and Dean Koontz.

She has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing from City College of New York where she won an English Department Award for her play Tea with Salt in 1987.

She was born in St. Thomas USVI, but she grew up in The Bronx, New York one mile from Yankee Stadium. She loves SyFy and the History channels, and Asian cuisine. But her heart and stomach longs for anything from the Caribbean.

Be sure to visit Tmonique atWebsite

***Be sure to comment with your email address to be entered to win a digital copy of Eternity.***

Monday, September 2, 2013

Brazen's New Secret Release!

Who doesn't love surprises?  The people behind Brazen Books sure do - and they just couldn't wait a whole month before putting out another book for their readers. Surprise!

Their newest book combines steamy island romance and high personal stakes. What a combination!

Blurb: Competitors by day, lovers by night…

Allegra Wilks has had the worst month of her personal and professional life. To save her company, she must go on her would-be honeymoon and land the luxury eco-island resort’s lucrative advertising account. But when a lingerie mishap leads her into the arms of a wickedly distracting Australian, Allegra’s tempted to skip the trip and explore the most sensual kiss she’s ever experienced. Too bad their chance encounter at the airport is just that.

Having recently lost his company to his former best friend’s shady business tactics, Jett Halcott is headed to a South Pacific resort to secure an advertising account that will resurrect his reputation and career. Realizing the tantalizing Allegra Wilks is on his flight, Jett envisions a week filled with business and pleasure. But Jett doesn’t know Allegra’s fighting for the same account, or that there’s more at stake than his heart.
Excerpt: “You should do that more often,” he said, reaching out to trace her bottom lip with his fingertip. “You’re beautiful, but when you smile? Wow.”
Uncomfortable with his overt compliments, Allegra sat there and let a guy she’d just met touch her lips with a slow, sensual caress. His fingertip traced her bottom lip in a butterfly-soft sweep that left her breathless.
Their eyes locked as he lowered his hand, and what she saw made her wish she could ditch Palm Bay and travel to Australia.
Blatant lust. Strong. Sexy. Seductive. His eyes deepened to an incredible green that matched a favorite jade pendant she wore often. He wanted her, and in this crazy moment, the feeling was entirely mutual.
He raised his beer to his lips and took a long swig, his heat-filled stare never leaving hers.

Damn, she had no idea what to do in this situation. Make a joke to diffuse the tension? Acknowledge it? Flirt?

She hated feeling out of control, had instigated steps her entire life to avoid it. Yet in a loaded thirty seconds, Jett had made her damp with just one look and made her flounder.

“Is the blatant charm an Aussie thing or is it just you?”

Thankfully, he blinked, and broke the scorching stare that made her want to grab a napkin off the bar and fan herself. “It’s me.” He leaned in close. “Time you fessed up.”

Yikes. Was her reaction to him that easy to read?

“To what?”

His lips almost brushed her ear. “You’re battling an incredible urge to drag me into the nearest janitor’s closet and ravish me.”

She laughed at his outrageousness. “Sorry. I don’t do sex in cleaning closets. Too many hazardous chemicals.”

“Yeah, those pheromones can be killer.”

She loved his quick wit and for the second time in as many minutes, wished she’d met him at a different place, different time.

“Pity.” He reverted to a smoldering stare that had her wishing she’d ordered a vodka shot chaser. “Sex in confined spaces can be fun.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Heat crept into her cheeks and she signaled the waiter for a glass of water. To douse herself with.

“Not the answer I was hoping for,” he said, shifting his barstool closer so their thighs brushed. “Would’ve been better if you’d said, ‘Sounds good, Jett, let’s go try.’”

She cleared her throat and gratefully accepted the water from the waiter, drinking it all and wishing she could run the cool beaded exterior across her forehead. “How did we get onto this crazy topic?”

“Started with you wanting to ravish me.” He clinked his beer bottle to her empty glass. “Seriously. There’s no need to hold back. I can take whatever you want to dish out.”

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Loving Dangerously Scavenger Hunt and Hop

So, I have to admit when I think of Sci-Fi and Romance, I'm not really thinking of heroes like this:

pic name pic name pic name

Maybe, I'm thinking a bit more of this instead:

*Shudders* Yeah, so that's not precisely a probe I want to think about. Now, if they all came like the ones on the covers of romance novels, strap me in some moon boots, grab the space food, and let's get it.

So A.M. Griffin is celebrating her new release, Dangerously Hers, with a fun scavenger hop with lots of prizes.

Blurb to come.
Available at Ellora's Cave

***So here's the deets.***

Each stop contains an awesome quote from a science fiction book or movie. They are all found on out-of-this-world photos. Figure out what movie or book the quote is from and post in the Rafflecopter. DON’T post as a comment on the blog stop! That’ll give away the answers.

Have fun and good luck!
And your Quote is:
Grand Prize list as follows:
-A.M. Griffin Swag-tastic Pack which includes: tote bag, shirt, coffee mug, mouse pad, flash drive, notebook, signed cover flats for all 3 books, trading cards, bookmark, pen.
-ebook copy of Wired in Sin by Lea Barrymore
-$10 Amazon Gift Card from Danica Avet
-Swag Pack from the Jeep Diva
-ebook copy of Arctic Destiny by Anya Richards
-ebook copy of Alien Affairs by Kate Hill
-$10 Amazon Gift Card from Booked and Loaded Blog
-Guitar Pic Ribbon Bookmark from Free eBooks Galore
-$20 Amazon Gift Card from eBook Indie Covers
-Handmade Ribbon Bookmark & $5 Amazon or B&N Gift Card from Bookworm Bridgitte's World
a Rafflecopter giveaway
***For my giveaway, I'm offering a $10 Amazon Gift Card. Just enter the second rafflecopter below. And maybe tell me your thoughts on Sci-Fi Romance. :) Good luck, chickies.***

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Keep hopping along to these other rocking sites:


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Thursday, 30 September 2010

Merde! Damn! Hell! And every other profanity around!

There are times in your life when you really wish you could kick yourself. I have been having a few of those days. Reason being is that I am waking up before 5AM! I am not sure what the problem is, but I am not sleeping any earlier than usual so that certainly cannot account for the early rise into consciousness. And the worst part: I cannot fall back into slumber! So yeah, I have become my own worst enemy and even I cannot sort myself out.

**whimpers and pleads to the Gods for help**

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Friday, February 17, 2006

Freedom of the press fighter, Kifle Mulat invited to attend the World Conference in Belgium

Ethiopian Free Press Journalists Association,EFJA, president Mr.Kifle Mulat( Amnesty International's Award Winner) will be at the International Freedom of Expression Exchange conference in Brussels,Belgium next week.Kifle Mulat,charged with treason and plan to commit genocide by Prime Minister Meles Zenawi Government was in exile,Uganda.

"One of the most leaders in African journalism,Mulat was named by the Vienna based International Press Institute,IPI, as the Freedom Fighter of the year 2000". World Free Press Institute
(Click title)

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World Sunlight Map

About Me

My photo
Västernorrlands län, Sweden
Likes to play discgolf in my spare time, a member of HDGK.Is a very active discgolfer in the summer. To be sponsored and travel around the world and play discgolf is my biggest dream.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

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Thursday, July 1, 2010

Just a lucky day

These are the kids I spend 6-8 hours a day with. They are really good kids and just the cutest things in the world. I have a lot of fun with the little bugs. Today was a great day...we built a fort, played pet shop, guess who, pretend...etc. was a great day...up until the last half hour. Wondering what could have happened in that half hour? Well I'll tell you...

Here is our schedule at the end of the day:

I make dinner. Kids eat. Kids go get ready for their baths while I clean dinner dishes. I give them baths. We play til I leave.

Well, when the kids got done eating dinner today I told them to go get ready for their baths (go potty & get their PJs out) and they both ran off like they always do. I finished the dishes and went in to first give little boy (I'll call him PB) his bath. Each kid's bath process takes about 15 mins with the washing and then play time and then post bath dressing and activities. These time details are important to the story...I'm not rambling.

So after both PB and TR were completely bathed (over 30 mins since dinner) I walked towards the playroom to choose a game to play. I heard what sounded like a dishwasher running and thought "that's weird I didn't turn on the dishwasher". When I walked out of the playroom I heard it again and took a couple steps forward to hear where it was coming from. I walked slowly towards the sound as it got louder and louder (for fear of what I might find). I finally got to the master bedroom...took one step in and saw water EVERYWHERE! The master bedroom had become a friggin pool with water touching all 4 walls. So I freaked out and carefully ran through the pool and into the enormous master bath. As you can imagine...the gigantic jacuzzi tub had overflown and the bathroom was under water. The huge bathroom, closet, bedroom and salon attached to the bedroom had become an ocean.

What would you do in that situation? I'll tell you what I did. Turned off the water, hauled my bootay to the towel closet and grabbed everything I could carry, all-the-while calling PB to get the heck in here. PB walked into the room and didn't even seem phased. While I, on the other hand, was covering every square inch of floor with towels and just trying to get at least the wood floors in the bedroom dry. As I am sopping up the mess I ask PB if he had any idea how this happened {there was no question in my mind that he had something to do with it}. Of course the 3 year old guy didn't even comprehend the question. He was just asking why there was water in the bedroom. I didn't have time to teach so I sent him to his room for everlasting timeout {I really just needed him out of the way so I could get into janitor mode}. TR stepped up as the older and helpful big sis and went towel hunting. She loved completing the special mission I gave her to get the water under the bed because I couldn't fit!

Cleaning up flooding is hard work! I was def working up a sweat the whole time. I was frantically doing everything I could to get all the rooms back to normal. In the meantime my Dad is calling me because he just got into town with his girlfriend and they were at our place with no way to get into the gate.

As soon as I got the situation under control it became funny. Just thinking 'thank goodness this isn't carpet'... 'thank goodness I found it when I did'... and 'thank goodness there were monica gellar worthy amounts of towels up in there'.

I had TR go to the other side of the house to check on PB in timeout and to get info on when and why this occured. She came back with a full report "he said when you told us it was bathtime he just decided he wanted to give his toys a bath in there" {while shrugging her shoulders like that's totally normal}. So about 45 mins ago...while I was doing the dishes...he ran into his parents bathroom to turn the water on FULL BLAST... because he thought that would be a good place for his toys to bathe....and never told anyone or turned it off.

PB still doesn't know he did it.

That was kick-off to the weekend. But it got better. You know when you get incredibly hot AFTER the activity you are doing? Like when you're on the treadmill and once you stop running your heart rate goes up. Well I was wearing jeans because inside the house its always really cold from the AC. But once I was leaving...half of me was wet from the water that drenched me while I was on my hands and knees, and the other half of my body was wet from me sweating because of all my hard work. I just wanted to hurry home to greet my company. So I got into my car to drive the 20 mins home and my trusty trailbeezy's AC decides to just not turn on. It was literally 111 degrees outside, I was already sweating and now I had to drive home at the hottest time of the day with no AC...and I was wearing skinny jeans.

So as I was explaining the details of the unluckiest hour of my life to Husbee on my drive home over the phone I had my phone just stuck to my face from the sweat. I told him "if I ever say I am hot again just remind me of this moment right now...this moment in my 24 years of life will forever go down in history as the hottest I have ever been." It was 111 degrees outside and when I got home I stepped out of the car and felt the outside air hit me like it was a cold fan...thats how hot it was in there.

There is a happy ending to this story. I got to peel off my drenched clothes and get into comfies. Chris brought me a huge cup of ice cold blue gatorade. Dad and Lisa arrive carrying Chili's chips and queso. And we have an awesome weekend planned. Gotta love it!

  1. o man handled everything so great...I would have killed someone....what did the mom say?.....this is great that you recorded this for all posterity ha ha!

  2. hahah that is crazy! That must be a lot of work taking care of two kids all day! i can hardly handle one, and he can't even turn the water on in the bathtub yet;)

What up?


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Thursday, 28 May 2015

A Literary Map of London

Now for something completely different. This literary map of London turned up from one or other of my Facebook friends, and I think it is fantastic, and I love the way it uses names to build up a picture of the city, so I thought I’d share it here – I just hope I don’t run into any copyright problems. According to the blurb on The Independent site I copied it from, the map is ‘both a snapshot of London’s literary history and beautiful in its own right’. I’m sure no one would argue with that.

Apparently, more than 250 novels were ‘mined’ in order to make the Literary London Map, and each name is placed on the part of the city they’re associated with. Initially I thought it was only made with characters from books, but looking closely I spotted Aphra Behn and Ben Jonson, so it seems authors rub shoulders with their creations. If I had cash to spare, which I don’t, I would buy it. As it is I shall content myself with looking at it online and seeing how many names I can find (and how many I know!)

It’s from the Literary London Art Collection, where an explanatory note states:

Literary London is a collection of art celebrating the capital's rich literary heritage. Bringing to life the army of fictional characters who were born here. From the dreamers and dandies to the eerily eccentric and downright dangerous. Not just the living, but also the walking dead. All the winged and many-legged creatures who've been immortalised in the pages of novels. And who continue to inhabit and delight imaginations the world over. The larger than life personalities conceived by an equally eclectic horde of authors obsessed with London's every nook and cranny, its bawdy taverns and refined townhouses, as well as the cities notorious underbelly, its clinks and courts of law.

Literary London is an art collection from Run For The Hills, conceived and created by London-based artist Dex in collaboration with Interior Designer Anna Burles, the duo who produced the map of literary London.

Monday, 25 May 2015

Of Pies and Penguins...

Simple Simon met a Pieman,
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the Pieman,
Let me taste your ware.
Says the Pieman to Simple Simon,
Show me first your penny;
Says Simple Simon to the Pieman,
Indeed I have not any.
Everyone knows the old nursery rhyme, but how many people are aware that hot (and cold) penny pies were a kind of early take-away, or ‘food on the move’, long before the advent of crisps, sandwiches, burgers, chips and so on.
The ‘itinerant trade in pies is one of the most ancient of the street callings of London’ says Henry Mayhew in Of Street Piemen, which is one of those rather lovely Little Black Classics produced to celebrate Penguin’s 80th birthday (Number 26 if we’re being precise).
Anne Anderson's illustration from an edition of
Mother Goose published in 1926. I like this because
it shows the construction of the hot pie can.
It contains eight extracts from London Labour and the London Poor, an investigation published in the middle of the 19th century, and I thought these pieces were absolutely fascinating, and surprisingly readable. This is the real ‘Dickensian’ London and Mayhew tells it like it is, letting his interviewees speak for themselves, so their voices travel down to us loud and clear.

I’ve always imagined the pieman with a tray of pies balanced on his head, or slung round his neck, like an illustration in a nursery rhyme book, and some did do this, but according to Mayhew in Of Street Pieman (the collection is named after this piece):

They go along with their pie-cans on their arms, crying, ‘Pies all ‘ot! Eel, beef, or mutton pies! Penny pies, all ‘ot, all ‘ot!” …. The pies are kept hot by a charcoal fire beneath, and there is a partition in the body of the can to separate the hot and the cold pies. The ‘can’ has two tin drawers, one at the bottom where the hot trays are kept, and above these are the cold pies. As fast as the hot dainties are sold, their place is supplied by the cold from the upper drawer.

Pies were savoury or sweet (made of fruit in season), and were usually baked by the sellers, about five dozen at a time, with half an ounce of meat in each, which is not a lot – about half a chipolata sausage.

“People, when I go into houses,’” said one man, “often begin crying ‘Mee-yow,’ or ‘Bow-wow-wow!’ at me, but there’s nothing of that kind now. Meat, you see, is so cheap.”

The meat came from the same parts that sausage-makers used – the bits known as ‘stickings’. Gravy, kept in an oil-can, was made from a little salt and ‘water browned’ (please don’t ask me how you brown water because I don’t know). Customers poked a hole in their pie and poured the gravy in, just as we might squeeze mustard or tomato ketchup onto food at hot dog stands.

The Coster Girl and Boy Tossing the Pieman. (Illustration for London Labour
and the London Poor, from
Personally, I think the pies sound most unappetising, particularly the mince-meat ones, which contained apple, sugar, currants and ‘critlings’ - the solid residue left after boiling pig fat in water to make lard. Piemen made their own pastry, but Mayhew doesn’t tell us whether they produced their own lard and critlings. Anyway, back to those mince-meat pies, which also needed ‘a good bit of spice’ to flavour the critlings, and plenty of treacle to make the mince-meat look rich.

Since there were no fridges, and pies could be hanging around for days, and were constantly warmed up, I wonder just how safe they were to eat.   The piemen grumbled to Mayhew about the new penny pie shops taking their trade, and said much of their income now came from ‘Tossing the Pieman’. Customers tossed a coin, and got a pie for free if they won. If they lost the pieman received the penny – and kept his pie.
The two orphaned flower girls whose tale is told elsewhere in the book, didn’t even have a penny to spend on a pie to share between them. They lived on bread and tea, and sometimes ‘a fresh herring of a night’, but were proud to boast they didn’t owe anyone anything, and had never pawned anything – because they had nothing worth pawning.

The Crippled Bird-Seller: Mayhew’s bird-seller wasn’t crippled,
but he must have looked  a little like this .
 (Illustration for London Labour and the London Poor,
A seller of live birds made a better living, but the description of how birds are caught is quite shocking. It involves a net laid on the ground in fields, and a caged bird singing to lure linnets, sparrows, larks and finches. What did people do with all those birds? Keep them as pets? Or eat them?

These people struggle to make a living, but they seem happy enough, accept their lot in life, and make the best of what they have. Their livelihoods are precarious, but in their way, they’re entrepreneurs, proud of what they do, beholden to no-one.

But Mayhew didn’t just interview London’s poor; he also looked at the places where they lived, worked and played. There’s a report, or essay, on the city’s vibrant street markets, another on the Port of London, and a damming account of the bawdy entertainment (and equally bawdy audience) at a ‘penny gaff’, a kind of ‘pop-up’ theatre.

Eager Reception circa 1850 (round about the time Mayhew took his balloon flight):
A crowd of onlookers greet the arrival of the hot-air balloon 'Crystal Palace'.
(Pic from Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
The sights, sounds and smells of a half-hour train journey to Clapham Common (then in the countryside, with a ‘little rustic station’) are recounted with great relish, and there’s an enchanting narrative of a balloon flight high above ‘The Great Metropolis’.

The houses directly underneath us looked like the tiny wooden things out of a child’s box of toys, and the streets as if they were ruts in the ground: and we could hear the hum of the voices rising from every spot we passed over, faint as the buzzing of so many bees.

It could have been written today, rather than some 150 years ago – the language, and the thoughts expressed haven’t changed at all. And as he goes ‘sailing along almost among the stars’ taking ‘an angel’s view’ of London, Mayhew reflects on human nature and concludes that it is good to forget ‘the petty jealousies and heart-burnings, small ambition and vain parade of ‘polite’ society and feel, for once, tranquil as a babe in a cot’.
PS: Blogger has gone doolally on this post, and is doing weird things with the spacing and font, and won't be corrected, so apologies if it looks odd...

Tuesday, 19 May 2015

Swans, Snow and a Talking Mole

Edred and Elfrida walking down the street before
their adventures begin.
Oh Lordy, I must be getting old. Or growing up or something. That’s three children’s ‘classics’ I’ve read recently, and I hated all of them, even though they ticked all the right boxes. Which is odd when you consider my weakness for children’s literature.

First up is Edith Nesbit. I’ve always loved The Railway Children, and the Bastable stories, and Five Children and It and its two follow-ups, so I thought I’d love The House of Arden, which just shows how wrong you can be. I know there are lots of people out there who really rate this book, but it didn’t do anything for me, except make me cross.

Brother and sister Edred and Elfrida Arden live with their aunt, who lets lodgings, which is ‘one of the most unpleasant ways to make a living’. They’ve got no money, their mother is dead, and their father has disappeared on an exploration to South America, accompanied by the aunt’s fiancé. Strange how many children’s books feature absent parents, either one, or the other, or both. Obviously this enables children to go off and have adventures, but I do wonder if there’s some deeper significance.

Anyway, it turns out that Edred is heir of the Ardens, so they move to their ancestral home, a crumbling castle which luckily includes a habitable (but run-down) house. To restore the fortunes of family and castle Edred and Elfrida must find the Arden treasure, hidden away centuries ago.
Prisoners in the Tower: Edred meets Sir Walter Raleigh
while they are both imprisoned in the Tower of London.
Helped by pigeons they don garments found in old chests and are transported back in time to periods matching the clothes. And wherever they go in time there are two children who look just like them, and are their ages, with their names, and they become those children.

This was what I really, really hated about this book. I couldn’t get my head round the way they travelled through time taking over other children’s lives, like some kind of cosmic hijackers. It’s Quantum Leap a century earlier, but unlike Dr Sam Baker they not allowed to change history. Personally, I thought it was really spooky. And in case you wonder what happens to the other children (well, I certainly did) they pop off and hang around somewhere else until they can return. And they don’t notice anything is happening because they’re not special like Edred and Elfrida…

And don’t get me started on the magical talking mole (the White Mouldiwarp from the Badge of Arden). Or the magical clocks which appear, made of daisies and such like. Or the magical swans pulling a magical carriage made of magical snowflakes.

Actually, the magical elements in this book really annoyed me because, on the whole, they’re twee and fluffy and pretty, and pulled out of nowhere, like a rabbit from a hat. Children trapped on top of a tower in a snowstorm? No problem, let’s conjure up a swan drawn snow-carriage to rescue them. Why swans and snow? Because all things white obey the Mouldiwarp. Well that’s OK I suppose, and after all it’s not really so very different from Cinderella going to the ball in a pumpkin coach pulled by mice-horses, and I’ve no problem with that.
Time traveller: Elfrida in the Georgian era.
So why don’t I like this? I’ve tried to analyse my response, and I’m really not sure, but I think it has to with the fact that I feel magic should be grounded in some kind of reality or mythology, if that makes sense. Authors like Diana Wynne Jones, JRR Tolkien and Ursula le Guin created characters who wield enormous magical powers, which they use only in dire need. There is an emphasis on balance, a sense that there is a cost to be paid for using magic, because it can upset the equilibrium of the world, and have unforeseen consequences. They have a responsibility to use their powers wisely, and they don’t magic something out of nothing, or change the essential nature of something. If they are not to be perverted to the dark good magicians must abide by some kind of rules or guidelines. Even in fairy tales magic can be a dangerous business, and you may not always get what you wish for.

The final chapter (which involves a lot of magic) is one of the daftest and most unbelievable things I’ve ever read. And there is, of course, a happy ending, which has nothing to do with the treasure, and includes a repetition (or recycling, if I’m being kind) of the most famous lines in The Railway Children, which is sloppy writing, and I would have expected better from Nesbit.

Actually, this post hasn’t gone in the direction I planned. I was going to write a few concise paragraphs on The House of Arden, and a little bit more on Elizabeth Goudge’s The Runaways, which I also hated, but that will have to wait for another day. And I didn’t mention Richard Arden, a mysterious boy from the past who knows about Edred and Elfrida’s time. However, his tale is revealed in Harding’s Luck, the follow-up to The House of Arden and deserves post of its own.

*The illustrations are by Harold Robert Millar, from the original 1908 edition of the book.

Saturday, 16 May 2015

Girl in the Dark

Imagine yourself forced to live in total darkness. Not the normal curtains-pulled sort of night-time darkness, but total, impenetrable blackness, so dark that you must feel your way around. That’s what happened to Anna Lindsey (a pseudonym) when she developed a severe sensitivity to all forms of light, natural and artificial. Exposure to light, however small or dim, caused excruciating pain, as if her skin were being burned by a blowtorch.

Girl in the Dark is her account of how life changed. It’s not a misery memoir. Although Lindsey admits she gets depressed – and has even, on occasions, thought of suicide – generally she remains upbeat, and her book is both uplifting and life affirming. She is no longer angry about her condition, and she has stopped seeking reasons or answers. She explains: “‘Why me?’ is the question of an idiot. The sensible person says simply, ‘Why not?’”
Girl In The Dark: Anna Lindsey's beautiful, moving
account of living with a severe sensitivity to light.
As her photosensitivity worsened, her world contracted to a single blacked-out room in the house of her boyfriend (now her husband). “It is extraordinarily difficult to black out a room,” she tells us.

“First I line the curtains with blackout material, a heavy, plasticky fabric, strange flesh-like magnolia in colour, not actually black. But the light slips in easily, up and over the gap between the rail and the wall, and at the bottom through the loops made by the hanging folds.

“So I add a blackout roller blind, inside the window alcove. But the light creeps in around the sides, and shimmies through the slit at the top.

“So I tackle the panes themselves. I cut sheets of cooking foil, press them against the glass, tape them to the window frames. But the foil wrinkles and rips, refuses to lie flat. Gaps persist around the edges, pinpricks and tears across the middle.”

Eventually, with curtains, blind, layer upon layer of foil and tape, and a rolled towel along the crack at the bottom of the door, she has blackness. But even that is not enough. To protect her skin from light rays that cannot be seen, but can still be felt, she must cover herself from head to toe in an assortment of garments, discovering through trial and error that some materials and styles are a more effective barrier than others.

The room is small, but when she is first in the dark she often gets lost, for ‘the darkness can cause disorientation that is total, and terrifying’. She develops strategies to cope and listens to audio books and Radio 4 – plays, readings, debates, current affairs but, to start with at any rate, not music. At the beginning music ‘unhinges’ her, reminds her of what she has lost.

And she plays word games in her mind, sometimes on her own, sometimes with visitors. Most tricky is the word grid, five squares by five, forming five letter words down and across - difficult enough when you have pen, paper and light, but well nigh impossible without them.

During the 10-year period covered by the book Lindsey has periods of remission when she is able to emerge from her room and venture to other heavily veiled parts of the house. In semi-darkness she cooks and reads, and is even able to creep outside in the dark. There are some memorable moments, like a night-time walk in the garden in the falling rain. She tells us:

“From the crown of my hat to the toes of my boots, an indescribable thrill runs through me. I stand poised at the edge of the lawn, and my starved senses open to this delicious, half-forgotten joy...

I let myself be soaked. Like a young plant, I let myself be watered well in. It is as though I am being kissed by the world, welcomed back to life.”
Roses at Montisfont. (Pic from National Trust website)
And on another occasion Mottisfont, a National Trust property near her home, arranges an extra-late midsummer opening so she and her husband can visit the walled rose garden. As they go through the door the smell ‘wallops’ them in the face.

“It is as though we have passed from air to some new substance, formed of a thousand interlocking scents that twist languorously about each other, like invisible smoke.”

It’s a magical interlude and as they leave she says:

“…on the inside of my eyelids I carry with me the imprint of glorious flowers, and in my nostrils, the ghosts of their perfume.”

It’s a shadowy sort of existence, and timings become all important during her good spells: her life is ruled by sunsets and sunrises. A photographic light meter helps track the amount of light she can tolerate. For example, f1 is almost dark; f4 is more or less when street lights come on; f8 is the sun just above horizon on a clear day. Light levels at noon are f200 plus, which she cannot cope with. She is, she says, ‘nibbling at the edges of the day’.

Sadly, these periods of remission are all too brief, and she is always forced to retreat back to the sanctuary of her dark room. She looks back on them, grateful for the respite, but never lets herself hope for more, because she is unsure they will ever be repeated.

Girl in the Dark is very moving, and very lyrical. Lindsey writes with great warmth and lucidity, and is able to consider her consider her situation and analyse her feelings in way which reveals more general truths about humanity. It made me laugh and cry - moments of high drama and intense sadness and despair are juxtaposed alongside interludes full of joy, and almost farcical episodes, for Lindsey retains her sense of humour, and is well aware how ludicrous her life can seem.

Reading it took me on an emotional journey which left me exhausted, and I cannot begin to envisage what it must be like for Lindsey to live like this. Yet she seems to have achieved a degree of serenity, a feeling that what will be will be, and she is thankful for small pleasures in life. I was left with the feeling that we should all put a higher value on things we take for granted, like the feel of rain, the smell of a flower, the warmth of the sun – and having enough light to sit and read a book.

Tuesday, 12 May 2015

The Gipsy in the Parlour

In the heat of a spacious August noon, in the great summer of 1870, the three famous Sylvester women waited in their parlour to receive and make welcome the fourth.

The three famous Sylvester women – Charlotte, Grace and Rachel – are sisters-in-law who married (and tamed) three of the wild Sylvester brothers. They are big and blonde, hard-working and warm-hearted, and they are about to meet the youngest brother’s bride-to-be. But Miss Fanny Davis, is not a bit like them. And her arrival brings discord and change, threatening the happiness and well-being of the farm…

The Gipsy in the Parlour is written with Margery Sharp’s usual light touch, but I think it’s a little darker than The Nutmeg Tree. The story is related by an unnamed narrator, looking back on her lonely childhood, when she spent idyllic summers with her Sylvester relatives on their Devon farm. The book covers two years of her life, and three visits to the farm. Our narrator is 11 when Fanny Davies comes to wed the youngest brother, and she tells us:

I marvelled how my uncle Stephen, used to the splendid Sylvester women, could have fallen in love with such a thin, pale, dusky little gypsy.

Fanny is:

…small, very slender, rather limply dressed in black or grey, on her head a small black straw hat. There was an air of the town about her; and of something else which, I (coming out from behind my aunts), couldn’t immediately define.

That undefined ‘something else’ is slightly worrying, a hint perhaps that things are not quite right. And what is she doing down by the crab apple tree in the middle of the night? And her voice may be sweet and musical, but it is ‘wooing’, as if casting a spell over her listeners. She certainly bedazzles our narrator, making ‘a ‘little friend’ of her, gaining her trust with sweets and endearments. But she doesn’t take any part in family life, and she doesn’t help around the farm or the house. She does absolutely nothing.

And when our narrator returns to the following year she learns there has been no wedding, for Fanny has been struck down by a mysterious malady - a ‘decline’, the aunts explain. Our narrator is puzzled by the sudden illness, but says:

It wasn’t at that time, particularly uncommon. Ladies lay in declines all up and down the country…

She is relieved to see Fanny doesn’t look ill:

She had always appeared both weakly and genteel - the two essential conditions one couldn’t go into a decline without. (No common person went into one. Common persons couldn’t afford to. Also, there needed to be a sofa. No sofa, no decline.)

Was the young narrator perceptive enough (and cynical enough) to make that comment I wonder? Or is it an adult reflection, composed with the benefit of hindsight? Anyway, there is Fanny, firmly ensconced on a new sofa in the parlour, using the lustre-ware from the china cabinet, picking at the daintiest food, her every need attended tot.  The sunny room (the aunts’ pride and joy) is dimmed and silent: even the clock has been stopped, because its chimes’ bruise’ Fanny’s nerves.  And the aunts have curbed their natural ebullience and speak in hushed whispers as they creep about their home. The harmony of the house is broken, the Sylvester women are no longer in total accord with each other, and there is grey in Aunt Charlotte’s hair.
Back home in London the narrator receives a note from Fanny, with a letter for Cousin Charles (Aunt Charlotte’s estranged son). Believing Fanny is trying to heal the rift, our narrator delivers the letter herself and finds Charlie working as a chucker-out at Jackson’s Economical Saloon. She becomes friendly with his lady friend, Clara Blow, who runs the establishment, and is as big, capable and warm-hearted as the Sylvester women. Charlie, according to Clara, is pining for the farm - but something (or someone) is preventing his return…

Our narrator, whose experience of life and love is derived largely from romantic novelettes borrowed from the succession of cooks at her parents’ home, decides that Charlie must marry Clara and return to the farm. And she wants to cure Fanny.

It’s a shame to reveal what happens on the next trip to Devon, but Fanny, as we suspected, has a cunning plan and when this is exposed Aunt Charlotte whisks her off to London for a showdown with Charlie. Actually, whisks is the wrong word, because preparations for the trip take five days. Aunt Charlotte travels with her own food, so the aunts bake pasties and cakes, and she packs eggs and a tea-caddy (for breakfasts) – imagine how a modern hotel if you did that! Then there are her clothes:

All the flowers were cut from her best bonnet, steamed and re-attached, the strings were treated similarly, also ironed. Her skirt and bodice were sponged with vinegar. Her underlinen required no attention at all, the store was so great and so immaculate we had to pick out the best, two of each, and one dozen cambric handkerchiefs, still bearing her maiden cypher.

Fanny is not so splendid. She possesses the dress she stands up in, two limp dresses more, and a peacock silk ball-gown. Her underlinen is ‘charitably’ ignored by everyone. She has no mantle, only a shawl, and her black straw hat is too far gone to steam into better shape.

What Fanny does have is the ability to seize an opportunity, but it’s her manipulative powers which give the novel a dark edge. She rules the household, while seeming to be weak, defenceless and passive, so the aunts must bend their will to her and subdue their real nature. And in an odd way they are complicit in this situation. They are aware of what is happening, but they go along with it. They won’t turn Fanny out or treat her badly because she is Stephen’s betrothed, and they don’t want to bring shame on the Sylvester name.

I loved this. I like Sharp’s writing style, amusing and light-hearted with (if you’ll excuse the pun) a sharp edge. Her descriptions of people (even the minor characters) are very astute. And while the ultimate outcome may be in little doubt – Aunt Charlotte, after all, is a force to be reckoned with – there’s enough tension to keep you reading to the very last page. All in all it was a very satisfying read.

PS: I'm just wondering I could link this to the Reading England Challenge, over at Behold the Stars. The aim is to travel England reading, and read at least one classic book per however many counties of England you decide to read. I think this counts, since it is set largely in Devon. But to be honest, much as I like Margery Sharp I  don't really think she counts as a classic, so maybe not.


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Monday, August 23, 2010

Not My Intention or Not Dogs Again

It was my goal this morning to get up early and photograph some deer. But alas I was up too late being creative and I slept in until way past seven. So by the time I headed out the door it was heading towards eight and the lighting was way to harsh for any kind of serious buck photography. Being optimistic though I headed out the driveway. Lo and behold sitting right across our road was Badger our dog lying in the dirt in a patch of sunshine. He looked really beautiful so I just had to stop and take a few images of him.

I called Badger to the car and continued on my way. I found a few deer and made a half hearted effort to photograph them but the lighting was just miserable and the deer looked pretty sad in those type of conditions.

God'sblessing to all,

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Sunday, July 12, 2009

Natural remedies

I know it isn't right to have favourites, but I have. Winifred isn't too well today. I noticed that she had a huge crop this morning. (For those of you who don't keep hens, the crop is where they store food all day, and digest it over night - the crop should be empty in the morning). She is withdrawn and listless, not interested in food and generally looking sad.

After my hen course today, I popped her in a cat basket to take a better look and brought her indoors, so I could keep an eye on her. Her crop is huge and squishy - sour crop - yeast infection. I have given her some natural yoghurt and apple cider vinegar in her water. It should restore the balance of good bacteria in her crop. She is having a nap in the kitchen as I type. If she is no better tomorrow, then she can visit Uncle Grant at the Vet surgery.

I have my part time week now. Not back to the joys of Terminal 5 until the 20th July. Jase has 2 more zaps to go and is then finished with radiotherapy. No more traveling to Guildford for treatment everyday. Will be a relief that is all over.

Last week, we went to Hampton Court Flower Show. It was the RHS members day, so less crowded than normal. I took my camera, but between the constant rain showers and threats of thunder and lightning, I didn't take many pictures.

The best thing about Hampton Court -

Lots of fantastic stalls inside, Country cottage type bits and bobs, throws, jams and quilts. My kind of place.

The one garden I loved for it's unusual planting was the 'Hanging Bra-skets and pant planters'!! -

The strawberry pants were hysterical!

If Mum said it once she said it 10 times. "It looks like its brightening up over there". Believe me, It didn't brighten up. The heavens opened at every opportunity. We took our roll along trolley with us, the must have accessory for Hampton Court. How else do you drag your plants around, whilst grazing ankles and tripping up unsuspecting visitors?? We are not going with Mum and Dad next year. It is sunny when they don't come with us!

Jase is asleep on the sofa, snoring away. Columbo on the TV. I thought I would write a quick update before heading back to the hospital wing in the kitchen.

Cornelia is still broody. Her chest looks red raw where she insists on pulling feathers out, to line her nest. A spot of savlon seems to help. She might not be laying at the moment, but she is adorable when you see her all fluffed up, growling. She isn't aggressive as some broodies can be. I lift her off the nest every couple of hours to give the others a chance to lay. Even though they have 2 eglus to lay in, they all like to lay where Cornelia is sitting!! Daft chickens.

The back garden is growing like mad. It looks relatively neat and tidy until you get close and see the amount of weeds that have taken hold.

I will get to grips with the weeding this week. I have too. The buttercups are everywhere and need pulling. I picked up a few echinacea plants called 'Baby Swan' that look like inside out daisies. I have planted them in the front, just to get them in the ground, but think I will move them later.

Been busy making things for the Weyhill Christmas Fayre, but haven't been over there yet to see if they will even let me have a stall. Must do that this week too. Am sewing scottie dogs to use as pin cushions, but need to go into Town to get stuffing for them. Stuffing? If that the right word? You know what I mean.

Had a log delivery and they are all neatly stacked and ready for winter. One more load and then I will be happy. Horrible job, stacking logs. With Jase tired due to the radiotheraoy and my back, we aren't that chirpy whilst stacking. He loads onto the wheelbarrow and brings them round the back and I climb into the log store and stack. It works well and means we are still speaking!

The peas, courgettes, carrots and beans are doing well. Even pulled a few carrots for dinner yesterday. Very sweet and satisfying, having finally grown carrots that are a decent size. The wood pigeons have pinched the red and blackcurrants and the raspberries aren't fairing too well against ariel attacks. Will definitely net them next year. The blueberries are covered so should be able to eat those before they are scoffed.

Better get back to Winifred and try to get her to eat more yoghurt. Poor girl. She really doesn't look well. Fingers crossed she will be ok.

C x x x

  1. Sorry to hear Winifred is poorly, sour crop is horrible.

  2. Aw, poor Winifred; hope she improves. Lovely post, I love the day-to-days of blogs, much more fascinating then pretentious high falutin'..............

stop me being locked up for posting to myself.....


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Groove to play at ASU

Augusta’s first professional basketball team in 13 years finally has a home.

Augusta Groove co-owner Gary Perry confirmed this afternoon that the Atlanta-based ownership group reached an agreement with Augusta State University officials earlier Thursday to use Christenberry Fieldhouse for the Groove’s home games.

“We’re definitely pleased,” Perry said. “This was something that we wanted, and we’re glad that we could get this part completed.”

Perry said the team will hold a news conference on July 16 at 10 a.m. at Augusta State to formally announce the agreement.

Savannah River Site resumes normal activity

A suspicious item was discovered Wednesday afternoon at the Savannah River National Laboratory which prompted emergency responseactivities.

... Read more