Thursday, December 8, 2016

KERI'S CHRISTMAS WISH ~ by Pamela S Thibodeaux

A big welcome to Author Pamela S. Thibodeaux 
who will give us insight into how she creates fiction.

I am 100% panster so when I sat at the computer with one scene in mind, Keri scrolling through her newsfeed and grumbling “bah humbug” over the ‘Christmas in July’ propaganda, I had absolutely NO idea where the story was going or what would happen. I was introduced to Energy Medicine a couple of years ago and find the whole concept of healing the body – or actually the body healing itself by correcting energy imbalance–fascinating. Along with EM, I’ve discovered the power of positive thoughts and prayers (see: You can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay). Add to that, my belief in the afterlife and the books & movies affirming those beliefs, and well, this story practically wrote itself. What is so amazing and encouraging for me is that Keri’s Christmas Wish is the first romantic story I’ve written in its entirety since my husband passed away in 2009. Oh, I’ve had things published that were already in the works, but other than a couple NF pieces, it is the only thing written from start to finish. Hopefully this means I’m in a much better place emotionally and other books/novellas/stories are sure to follow.
 
 
Blurb:  
For as long as she can remember, Keri Jackson has despised the hype and commercialism around Christmas so much she seldom enjoys the holiday. Will she get her wish and be free of the angst to truly enjoy Christmas this year?
 
A devout Christian at heart, Jeremy Hinton, a Psychotherapist, Life Coach, Spiritual Mentor and Energy Medicine Practitioner has studied all of the world’s religions and homeopathic healing modalities. But when a rare bacterial infection threatens the life of the woman he loves, will all of his faith and training be for naught?
 
Find out in Keri’s Christmas Wish
 
Snippet: 
She awoke in another dimension. Keri had no idea if she was in Heaven, but neither did she fear Hell. Her surroundings were reminiscent of a dense forest at dusk. Shadows danced against a sunset where brilliant colors bled from the sky. A light shone in the distance but as she moved toward it, Keri felt as though she plowed through molasses. Unease pricked her skin. The sound of water drew her deeper into the woods until she stood at the base of a vast waterfall and rapids so swift she dared not attempt to cross the river.
 
The light grew stronger, brighter. Beckoning.
 
I need to get to the light.

Author Bio: 
Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”
 
Links:
Website address: http://www.pamelathibodeaux.com     
Twitter: http://twitter.com/psthib @psthib
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1jUVcdU  
 

Saturday, December 3, 2016

THE CHRISTMAS WREATH - A Circle of Life

During the Christmas season, I enjoy looking at the many different wreaths hanging on the doors of homes. They are colorful, artistic and varied, and are often constructed with evergreens adorned with pine cones, ribbons, bells, berries, and bows. But where did the tradition of hanging a wreath on a door for Christmas originate? Although there are many theories, it’s believed the wreath came with the Irish when they immigrated to the United States.

The wreath itself can be traced back to ancient Rome when people used decorative wreaths as a sign of victory and celebration. The custom of hanging a Christmas wreath on the front door of the home probably came from this practice. They are also used in ceremonial events in many cultures around the world.

In English-speaking countries, wreaths are now used typically as household ornaments, mainly as an Advent and Christmas decoration. Wreaths have much history and symbolism associated with them. They are usually made from evergreens which symbolize the strength of life overcoming the forces of winter, since evergreens last even throughout the harshest elements. Bay laurel is also be used, and these wreaths are known as laurel wreaths.

The shape of a circle has no beginning and no ending. It is thought that this may represent the eternal nature of a god's love, or the circle of life.

Do you hang a wreath on your door? If not, what do you do to decorate for the holiday season?
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Thursday, November 17, 2016

THANKFUL THOUGHTS FOR THANKSGIVING

Talking Turkey...

                          Thankful Thoughts for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. It’s a special day when we don’t have to go into a meltdown mode chasing down the perfect gifts for everyone on our Christmas list. The real gift is simply being able to gather family and friends together to eat, talk, share stories, and enjoy all those tempting dishes—like to-die-for corn bread stuffing, Aunt Jane’s pecan and pumpkin pies with mounds of whipped cream, and the ever-famous turkey baked to a golden brown in the oven or a deep fryer. It’s also a time when I think about why I’m thankful as a writer. Here are my top five:

  • I’m thankful to be able to be born in a country where I am able to create and write freely without fears of censorship or retribution. I’m thankful for all our service people—the military, rescue squads, firemen, police and many, many more whose occupations are to protect our freedoms and who are dedicated to keeping us safe. We are, indeed, land of the free because of the brave.

  • I’m thankful for all the fans who purchase our novels and those who make each day just a bit brighter by dropping an email or note in praise of our work. It gives me and other authors a reason to push forward and pursue our dreams.

  • I’m thankful for my spouse, my children, neighbors, friends, family, fellow writers, beta readers, and reviewers who act as sounding boards and who understand the writer’s craziness and the driving need to escape to a favorite spot and put ideas on a blank white screen.

  • I'm thankful for the editors, publishers, artists, and marketing, production and support personnel who take our lumpy clay-like creation of words and help us sculpt those words into a smooth, finished work of art called a novel.

  • I am thankful for all the sights, sounds, smells and tastes around us—like bright sunny days, scarlet sunsets, serene snowfalls, gentle rain, the smell of pine-tinged air, the warble of a song sparrow, the chirping of a cricket, the taste of summer’s first strawberries—and all the wondrous gifts our Heavenly Creator gives us each day to help us to be inspired.  

                      Happy Thanksgiving from my home to yours!     
                     
 EXCERPT: 
                                Key to Love

 The first thought crossing Lucas’s mind was that a blue tornado had swooped down without warning.
Elise Springer barreled through the office door, crossed the distance between them and slammed her fist on the metal desk so hard two pencils did simultaneous jumping jacks before hitting the concrete at her feet.
“You liar!” she shouted. Vicious claws, still splendidly colored a brilliant red, reached out, clutching the front of his shirt and jerking him by the throat.
“Having a bad morning?” Lucas asked quietly, thankful he never made it a habit to fasten the top button. “Maybe I should make a pot of coffee?”
“You set me up, you detestable jerk!” Her hand still held fast even when his came up to cover it. “You never told me about the seventy-five thousand dollars Mike gave you.”
He pried her fingers loose, and she stepped back, slicing the air with the edge of her palm. “I trusted you, you lowly worm. I went in there on your behalf!” Both hands flew to her temples, massaging her forehead. She stomped to the window and back again twice. “God, what a fool I am.”
“It’s not what it appears, Liz.” Lucas sat down, leaned back in a chair beside the desk, and hoped Fritz had not lied and this was just one of her twenty-four hour bouts of raving insanity. “Maybe you ought to sit down, and I’ll explain.”
“You can start spouting an explanation right now, pal, and I don’t need to sit to hear your gibberish!”
If her eyes could throw darts, he’d be dead man for sure, Lucas decided. He mustered some courage. “If I had told you Mike gave me money from his personal funds to invest for him, you would have gone into the meeting with Pedmo and tried to second guess her, just to defend me. I couldn’t take the chance. You got the kid, right?”

 
BUY LINKS:
The Wild Rose Press –  www.thewildrosepress.com 



Tuesday, November 1, 2016

LEAVES OF GRASS ~ "I Celebrate Myself, Line 238"


"The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night,
Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation:
The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer,
I find its purpose and place up there toward the November sky."
           ~~ Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1855, I Celebrate Myself, Line 238

November is the time to snuggle down and enjoy the many smells of the season from the cinnamon and sugar in an apple pie baking in the oven to luscious, rich scent of a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Squash of all varieties are picked and becomes a staple fall accompaniment to a pork or beef roast. Root vegetables--carrots, turnips, beets, and potatoes--are stored for winter use as well. These are our comfort foods. And they remind us as the temperatures fall that winter is around the corner.