Monday, May 20, 2019

Rainy Days in May


“It’s May, it’s May, the lusty month of May,” as the song goes in Camelot

With the incessant rains this year, Pennsylvania in May is a beauty to behold if you squint between the raindrops.

Named for Maia, the Greek goddess of fertility, May’s birthstone is emerald which symbolizes love and success. It seems appropriate to designate the emerald since spring in the northern hemisphere often is a brilliant green as dormant deciduous trees, grass, bushes, and emerging flowers and weeds dress themselves in shades ranging from lime to blinding green to deep avocado. 

The ferns in my flower beds are unfurling and jumping skyward. The Jack-in-the-pulpits have poked their heads up on the east side of the house, thanks to the protective shade of a rhododendron, and the hosta plants are so huge I fear they could join forces and overthrow all the plants in our yard.

For me, May is a time of awakening with warmer nights with golden moons. The bluebirds and hummingbirds return. The hawks soar. The robins bob, bob, bob on the lawn. And the very vocal wrens scold everyone from atop a cedar tree
.
This year, I’m foregoing a garden and will have a patio tomato and my basil plant in pots. I’ve decided instead of fighting the rain, I’m going to endorse an old farmer’s saying: Rain in May is a barn full of hay.

I’m going to enjoy the down time and dawdle a little, write, read, and look for rainbows. What are you favorite things to do on a rainy day in May?

                                                             WILLIE, MY LOVE
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Saturday, May 4, 2019

WILLIE, MY LOVE - An Excerpt and Rafflecopter


Can two stubborn hearts find love under the tall white pines?

EXCERPT:


He broke the stillness first. “Did you recognize him?”
“Who?”
           "The thief you knifed in the woods, Miss Decoy.”
“How would you know I knifed him?”
“I heard no gunfire from the clearing, but from the amount of blood scattered all over the place, you more than just playfully tickled his ribs. Actually, it looked like you went for the poor fellow's jugular vein.”
 “I wish I had. I only stabbed him in his shoulder. I wasn't aiming to kill, just slow him down a bit."
“With men that ruthless, Willie, it's best not to extend too much compassion. Those three riders on the ridge weren't exactly trying to miss your backside in the true spirit of Christian charity.”
 “Next time, I won't let them get that close.”
  “There won't be a next time,” he snapped. “You pull a fool stunt like that again while I'm here, and I will tell your father. The closest you'll ever get to a logging operation will be sewing buttons on your crews’ shirts. So tell me, did you recognize him or the horse he rode?”
  “No. If I had recognized him, or his blasted horse, I would have spoken to the proper authorities.” She paused and wagged a slim finger at his face. “You realize, mister, you're a pain in the...”
  “Don't even say it!”
  “Neck. But your first conclusion might be a more appropriate location.”
   Their dueling gazes met and he reached out and captured her against his chest.
   Suddenly conscious of the fact that he either wanted to shake her mercilessly or kiss her senseless, he released her gently, disturbed by the discovery she had aroused far more than anger. He stalked to the fireplace and gripped the mantel, his head bent in thought. He had always been good at logical reasoning, but this wisp of a backwoods girl defied every civilized rule he ever learned. Her nearness stoked a gently growing fire that he’d never felt before with any other woman. And she was oblivious to it all. How would he ever be able to work beside her?
  A lengthy silence elapsed before he spoke in a calm voice. “Is there a possible way we can come to terms since we have to share the same roof over our heads?”
  Shifting like the wind, she concurred. “Unfortunately, I agree with you.”
  Turning, he pinned an astonished gaze on her. “You mean there’s actually an ounce of compassion in that tiny body of yours?”
  Willie grinned. “Don't compare my size with my compassion, or any other of my abilities, for that matter. The venom of a rattlesnake is deadly regardless of its size.”  

BACK COVER BLURB:  

The year is 1856. White pine is king of the forest.
Releasing on April 15th

The last thing Jonathan Wain wants to do is ride miles through Pennsylvania’s wilderness to help his father’s logging partner in the small settlement of Clearfield. But his family owns clipper ships in the Chesapeake Bay that carry the coveted logs to the markets each spring, and they can’t afford a loss.

The last thing Wilhelmina Wydcliffe wants is a handsome sea captain from Maryland meddling in her father’s logging operations under attack by unknown enemies. A feisty tomboy and better known as Willie to her crews, she has a dream to be the largest logging operator east of the Mississippi River.

When both Willie’s and Jonathan’s lives are threatened, they are forced to work together to find their enemies before both of their companies are in shambles. 

But as their attraction to each other escalates, can they set aside their differences, unearth the truth, and discover contentment in each other’s arms? 
       
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Monday, March 25, 2019

Willie, My Love - A Historical Romantic Mystery


Can two stubborn hearts find love under the tall white pines?

The year is 1856. White pine is king of the forest.
Releasing on April 15th

The last thing Jonathan Wain wants to do is ride miles through Pennsylvania’s wilderness to help his father’s logging partner in the small settlement of Clearfield. But his family owns clipper ships in the Chesapeake Bay that carry the coveted logs to the markets each spring, and they can’t afford a loss.

The last thing Wilhelmina Wydcliffe wants is a handsome sea captain from Maryland meddling in her father’s logging operations under attack by unknown enemies. A feisty tomboy and better known as Willie to her crews, she has a dream to be the largest logging operator east of the Mississippi River.

When both Willie’s and Jonathan’s lives are threatened, they are forced to work together to find their enemies before both of their companies are in shambles. But as their attraction to each other escalates, can they set aside their differences, unearth the truth, and discover contentment in each other’s arms? 

EXCERPT:         

       Jonathan found her at the table hacking a flapjack into a million pieces. It didn't take any more brains than an earthworm to see she was in the vilest of moods for someone about to celebrate her twenty-fourth birthday. Following his explicit orders, no one from the entire household staff had made mention of it, and she was moping.

       Whistling merrily, Jonathan dropped into a seat facing her.

       “People who are so joyful in the morning should have their hearts ripped out,” she muttered and poured more than a generous stream of maple syrup onto the shredded pancake.

       A smile ruffled his handsome face. “You're just in a poor mood because you didn't find your birthday presents we stashed in the stables. Everyone knows you've tipped this house upside down in search of them. Think all that sugar might help your disposition?”

       “I should have known,” she sputtered, coming to her feet, “only buzzard bait like you would stoop to such a childish trick.” An unexpected stir of excitement rose inside her. “So what are we waiting for?”

       He followed her out into the summer sunshine. The first rays of dawn had already burned off the dew from underfoot. The doors to the stables were flung open, and he had to quicken his pace to keep up with her.

       “I guess in all fairness, I should show you where we hid them.” Inside the barn, he led her past Silver Cloud's stall to one at the far end of the stables. Her eyes sparkled luminously when she saw a pure white horse, prancing in the stall, still uneasy with its new surroundings. His coat glistened like new snow in the slanted sunlight filtering through the stable windows.

       She was so shocked, she could only stare.

       “Happy birthday.” He leaned a shoulder against the stall. “A new saddle from the staff is arriving from Maryland next week. I ordered it special to fit the mount.”

        “Oh, Jonathan, he’s beautiful. Thank you.” She blinked back a tear.  No one had ever given her such a splendid gift since the day she received her first horse.

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Monday, March 11, 2019

NATIONAL "GOOF OFF DAY" - March 22nd


Everyone talks about the Ides of March on the 15th, but did you know that March 22nd is “National and International Goof Off Day”? Now here’s a celebration we can all get behind and participate in. And to make matters ever better, it’s on Friday of this year! 

What do I plan to do? Glad you asked. I’m goofing off. 

I plan to leave all my writer obligations, ideas, and tasks that are always hammering at me in the back of my brain and find activities that qualify as fun, not difficult, deemed enjoyable—and which are mindless.  So that leaves out the frustrating game of golf. It also leaves out reading since I get carried away to a new world when I read, and often I find myself plowing through the book, reading nonstop, to find out how the story ends. Thus, reading is hardly mindless in my way of thinking.

I could clean the house. That’s as mindless as it gets, but it certainly isn’t enjoyable. Someone suggested sitting quietly in a chair in a Zen-like state and meditating. It would only be a possibility if I could sit still that long. Over an hour of a vacuum-like state, and I’d need anti-anxiety medication to deal with the inactivity and silence. 

Someone suggested relaxing and making a to-do list. Are you kidding me? What a way to go bonkers. What part of that activity is relaxing? I’d sit in nervous anxiety, chewing the eraser off my pencil, as the list grows and the urge to be knocking off some of the tasks on the stupid list grows exponentially. 

I could try driving aimlessly around the town, but every time I do that, I see new things. Then, I have the impulse to want to take careful note of the scene and stuff my mind with details for possible use in my writing.  And, the idea is to leave the writing world behind for a day, shut down the brain, and goof off.

If you have any thoughts and opinions for goofing off on March 22nd, I’m open to suggestions. Leave a comment and I’ll consider them. Oh, wait—if I have to analyze  your comments, that is not goofing off.

COMING SOON IN APRIL - "Willie, My Love," a historical romantic mystery 
about the logging industry in 1856 in Central Pennsylvania. 

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