Favorite Indulgence #MFRWauthor

Is it any surprise that a writer’s greatest indulgence is reading? At least, it is mine. I love taking the car for an oil change or waiting a long time in the Reading Kindle in airportdentist’s office because that affords me guilt-free reading time. Five hours between flights? Gosh, that’s too bad. I guess I’ll just have to read. Thirty minutes between ordering my meal and receiving it? Darn it, I’ll be forced to open this book I have in my purse.

I rejoice in moments like this outside the house because when I’m home there is always something to do that if I don’t do it I feel guilty. But if I’m out of the house and virtually stuck, well, what’s a girl to do? It’s why I always have something with me to read—a book in my purse, a book in the car, my Kindle in the passenger seat. One never knows when a traffic light will stretch out long enough to read a paragraph or two.

So this photo shows a double indulgence: reading with my hubby. (Full disclosure, that man is not my husband. He’s cute, though.) Reading with husbandThe reason this is such a welcome indulgence is this. Jack grew up with dyslexia in the dark days when dyslexia wasn’t really recognized as a problem. When we grew up, if you couldn’t read it was because you didn’t try hard enough, or you didn’t read enough (figure that one out!), or you were stupid. I despaired of his ever reading anything other than technical manuals or the IRS guidelines. Now, with text to speech programs, he can listen to books and we actually spend quiet evenings “reading” together. It’s a together time that I love!

Now that summer is here, I can envision me with my Kindle on a beach somewhere, just like this. Woman who is not me reading on beachOf course, I don’t look anything like this young lady (sadly), I don’t really enjoy beaches, and I burn if I’m out in the sun more than ten minutes. But I have the Kindle, so life is still good! Happy reading, summer, winter, fall, and spring!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

True by Ann Everett–Blog Tour

True
A Bluebird, Texas Romance
by Ann Everett

Ann is giving away five awesome prize packages. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win one of the prize packages. You may find the tour locations here

About True:

Sometimes it takes losing everything…

True Shanahan must be the unluckiest woman in the world. Either that or she’s cursed. After another failed relationship, True leaves Dallas with a broken heart and new attitude. It’s time to walk on the wild side. But when she makes a wrong turn and ends up in Bluebird, Texas, the only man she wants is anything but reckless.

…to find all you’ve ever wanted.

Ritter Malone is the town’s favorite son and has the local hero awards to prove it. Seems he’s always in the right place at the right time. But when he crosses paths with True, his life takes a turn he never sees coming. Her songwriting skills may be questionable, but her ability to turn him inside out is indisputable.
Welcome to Bluebird, Texas.

Where a chance meeting gives two people a chance at love.

Amazon Buy Link

Excerpt:
When Ritter arrived at the gym, he spotted Cole jumping rope. He stopped and glanced at the wall clock. “You’re late. Roommate didn’t have you tied up, did she?”
“Very funny. We got a dog. Stayed up playing with him. I hit the snooze one time too many.”
Cole ran a towel over his face, then his lips curled. “That’s not good.”
“What? Getting a puppy?”
“Naw. The we in that sentence sounds like a contract extension.”
Ritter stretched. “I won’t lie. I’ve gone home to an empty house so long, thought having someone there would drive me nuts, but it hasn’t—for the most part.”
Cole stepped on the nearest treadmill, turned it on, and ran a steady pace. “I gotta hand it to you. You’ve managed to sleep with her and keep your hands to yourself. Or have you?”
Ritter climbed onto the machine next to Cole’s and matched his stride. No need to confess he hadn’t exactly resisted, but he’d not passed second base—by much. Had it not been for the phone call, he would have hit a home run. He’d had the wood for it. “No.”
“Come on. No way you haven’t hit that. Especially after what you told me about her coming on to you.”
“That’s why I can’t let her stay. My resistance is wearing thin.”
Ritter and Cole’s phones sounded a text at the same time. Ritter read his, then shot Cole a look. “Turns out, we’re off this afternoon.”
Cole dropped his cell back into the cupholder. “I’ve never been to New Jersey. You?”
“Nope but looks like the storm is calling us there.”
NAME THE TWINS CONTEST:
Submit your name choices via comment Ann’s blog post, http://www.anneverett.com/2018/06/15/contest-and-new-release/ or to her email ann.everett @rocketmail. com. (without spaces)
About the Author:
Award winning author, Ann Everett embraces her small town upbringing and thinks Texans are some of the funniest people on earth. When speaking to writing groups, businesses, book clubs, and non-profit organizations, she incorporates her special brand of wit, making her programs on marketing, self-publishing, and the benefits of laughter, informative and fun.
 
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Keeping a Journal #MFRWauthor

When I was growing up, I kept a diary all the time. It held all of my dreams, wishes, fondest hopes. If I had a great idea, I recorded it faithfully. When I Dear Diarymet (met again, actually) the younger version of the man I married, I let Dear Diary know first. It was really a great thing to do.

So why have I been so stupid as not to keep up the habit??? As I said, when I was growing up I kept a diary. Once I grew up I forgot how intelligent a girl I’d been. I’ve tried now and then to keep story ideas in a notebook or even jot a reminder of some great dialogue or character traits, but the good intention lasts less time than my diet plans after New Keeping a journalYears. Like writing every day, I need to develop the habit of keeping a journal (“journal” sounds so much more mature than “diary”). Where is that Kick-Me-in-the-Butt machine I need to remind me of good habits to form?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

What item can’t I do without? #MFRWauthor

I never thought I would ever say this, but I would have a hard time being without my cell phone. Damn it! I debated between the phone and the Kindle but the phone won out because while I can read books on my phone, I can’t place calls on my Kindle. So, if I’m ever stuck on a desert island and can only have one thing, it would have to be my iPhone. Oh, and a charger. And yeah, electricity because you know…

So the other day I mentioned to hubby how we lived for years in rural Virginia, 50 miles from Richmond and 35 miles from Charlottesville. We routinely drove in and out of both cities, on two-lane country roads, day Rural road without iPhoneand night, and never worried a bit. Within a year of having a cell phone and I nearly had hives when I realized I’d taken off from home one day and had forgotten my phone. I can’t remember a single time in years that I needed the stupid thing and suddenly it had become a technological device I was afraid to be without. Even now, when half of our town is within walking distance, I get antsy if I don’t have my phone.

And not just “a phone,” either. For years I smugly enjoyed the disbelief of my friends with smart phones when they realized I still had a flip top number that did nothing more than text and make calls. I avoided smart phones because I didn’t want to be more reliant on a device than I already iPhone addictionwas. Then hubby updated out phone contract and came home with iPhones. Now I have real addresses and email addresses in it, I read the news on it, I Google and read and yes, play Solitaire on it. I use the calendar and keep notes and set alarms. I have become attached. I hate it, but what’s a girl to do? The technological heart wants what the technological heart wants. Sigh.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

New BC

Nomad Authors is pleased to host and support the authors of The Billionaire’s Club!

 
The Billionaire’s Club
A Limited-Edition Collection of Billionaire Romances
Including Stories from Nicole Morgan, Krista Ames, Jan Springer, Robin Michaela, Madison Michael, Lita Lawson, Nikky Kaye, Diana Bocco, Kris Jayne


The authors of this collection are giving away a Kindle Fire with Alexa. There will be a chance to enter every day so be sure to follow the tour to learn more about each book and enter for your chance to win this awesome prize! You may find those locations here. 


About The Billionaire’s Club:
High stakes, risk takers, and power-wielding billionaires. This set will take you on a ride of romance, seduction, and games of wealth and fortune. Find out what happens when these powerful men meet their match.

Featuring:
Desire & Dessert:

A B&B Billionaire Romance
by Madison Michael


Blurb:
Can they forge a business merger and a personal one too?

Spoiled Stevie Jurran expects smooth sailing when she arrives at Lakeside Lodge to implement her plan to merge it into the luxury Bijoux Hotel chain. Completing this simple task will move her up the corporate ladder, increase her value to her father’s multi-billion dollar business and settle the score with her cheating ex-fiancé. Just one insignificant B&B stands between her and success –one B&B and its provoking and intriguing manager.

Secretive and sexy Grant Harris is not your typical innkeeper. Digging in his heels, he tries to preserve the aesthetic of Lakeside Lodge by resisting every change Stevie implements. Retreating from his life in the B&B’s surroundings, Grant quickly learns there’s no way to combat his growing desire for the infuriating heiress. Can he concede to her demands and contend with his past to win this alluring woman? 


The B&B should be a perfect fit for the hotel chain. Stevie and Grant should be a perfect fit as well, but will they set aside their pasts and egos to complete a merger of a different kind?
Will love seal their deal?

Excerpt:
“Chocolates,” he explained pushing her back and dropping his knee to the bed so that he hovered above her. “I’ll get you more later.”

Laughing, Stevie whispered, “Trust me, chocolate is not what I want right now.”

“Well, that’s a change but very good to know,” Grant responded, nibbling on her lower lip and sending shivers of desire down to her core. His hands reached under her sweater again, this time lifting the hem to raise it over her head and toss it carelessly to the floor.

“You really are beautiful,” he breathed as he lowered his face to trail kisses from her neck to her breastbone, over her bra and down to the waistband of her skirt. His mouth was hot and moist, sometimes soft as a butterfly, other times nipping and bruising, until Stevie found herself writhing under his ministrations, her body begging for more.

But Grant was in no rush, moving his mouth to cover every inch, lifting her like a ragdoll from the mattress long enough to unhook her bra – in three seconds and one handed. “You’ve had practice,” she observed without rancor.

“Surgeon,” he stated between kisses. “Good with my hands.”

Author Bio and links:

Madison Michael traded 28 years in Fortune 500 tech and management positions for a chance to spend her days with sassy heroines, sexy, rich heroes and nothing but happy endings. Growing up the daughter of a librarian, she learned to love books, especially classics and romances, and spent winters cuddled under blankets losing herself in books.

Madison is the author of three novels in the Beguiling Bachelor series, as well as several short stories. She is a member of Romance Writers of America.

After living in the northeast, southeast and the west, Maddy returned to her Midwest roots. She lives in Evanston, IL with two feline editorial assistants and great views of Chicago’s famous skyline.

Madison’s Social Links:
Website: MadisonMichael.net
Blog: madisonmichael.net/category/maddys-blog/
Facebook: facebook.com/madisonmichaelromance
Twitter: twitter.com/madisonmichael_


Dex: The Spencer Family Saga 1 by Nicole Morgan
When you’re a Spencer, sometimes the price can be higher than you’re willing to pay.
Website: nicolemorganauthor.com


Playing with His Heart by Krista Ames

Will playing with his heart break hers?
Website: kristaames.com

The Billionaire Boyfriend by Jan Springer
Lily finds pleasure in the arms of two sexy billionaires.
Website: JanSpringer.com


Stealing the Billionaire’s Heart by Robin Michaela
A jilted bride’s best revenge is finding a better man.
Website: RobinMichaela.com


Desire & Dessert: A B&B Billionaire Romance by Madison Michael
Can they forge a business merger and a personal one too?
Website: MadisonMichael.net


Ice by Lita Lawson
Diamonds. Billionaires. Who knew working undercover would be so sexy.
Website: LitaLawson.com


The Billion Heir by Nikky Kaye
Welcome to the first meeting of the Billionaire Book Club—because even the wealthy need help to read between the lines.
Website: NikkyKaye.com


LUKE: a Forbidden Lust novella by Diana Bocco
Losing it all might just be worth it.
Website: DianaBoccoBooks.com


Snowbound Siren by Kris Jayne
A seduction. A secret. A steamy, snowbound adventure.
Website: KrisJayne.com

Links: 

 

 


a Rafflecopter giveaway

 




 

Why I Wrote Gumshoe Girl

I’m so happy to welcome Andi Ramos as our guest blogger. Andi’s new (first!) book has just been released, Gumshoe Girl.

Gumshoe GirlAs far back as I remember I would make up scenes with fictitious characters. Sometimes I would jot them down, but I never took them seriously, I would collect them, but they would always end up in the circular file. Gasp!

I never did anything with my writing until I started Gumshoe Girl, my debut novel that was just released May 30th. I had this involved story running through my brain. It didn’t stop at a scene, it just kept going, so I went with it. I finally compiled all the scenes together into a short draft to see what I had. Holy mackerel! Before I knew it, I had over 30,000 words. Writing wasn’t something I could ignore anymore. I made a decision to finish the story. Well, I no longer waste the story ideas come to me. I cultivate them to see if they are substantial enough to work with.

About My Heroine:

Sheagan O’Hare is the main character in my debut novel, Gumshoe Girl. She is 27 years old and hasn’t quite figured out how to be successful in life. However, she realized with the recent death of her father and catching her boyfriend cheating on her that she had better figure things out quick. She recently took over Diamond Detective Agency, her family business. Gumshoe Girl sidekickShe never expected to be in this situation, so doesn’t know anything about being a detective or solving cases. She’s not going to let that deter her, especially after landing her first big client and a missing persons case. She tries her best to hang with the pros. Problem is, she’s got this annoying and unfortunately extremely attractive FBI agent that keeps reminding her of her amateur status. She’s not looking for a new love, but she runs into a guy from her past that is trying to change her mind. And, well I mentioned the hot agent…so I’m not sure her heart is going to listen to her head. She’s got to learn to trust her instincts in order to succeed, but will she be able to do that before someone gets hurt?

Excerpt:
She wasn’t there to kill him, even though the thought had crossed her mind; no, she was there to catch him in the act. She suspected he had been cheating on her for some time, so proof would end her suspicion or the relationship. Spying on her significant other through an air-vent of a swanky hotel room was hardly a promising start to her so-called glamorous career as a private detective. But it snapped her back into the reality that her new chosen profession would often be messy and difficult.

She peered through the grate and envied the spacious room below, but her viewing angle was no good for the task at hand. She could feel the heat in her cheeks rise along with her anger as she scanned the room and soaked in the extravagance–the hardwood tables, the Italian marble fireplace, the opulent sheen of the fabric on the overstuffed furniture that glimmered in the soft candlelight. The Rat Bastard was not known to overindulge on frivolous expenses, unless it was on her dime. Thoughts of killing him resurfaced.

What is wrong with me? Why did I wait so long?

She immediately regretted the fleeting question. She knew why. The answer brought back the pain and significance of her father’s sudden death. He had been the only family she had left, and he was gone. All that was left behind was his detective agency. She had thought about giving it up, but she couldn’t; it was her only connection to him, to her family.
She closed her eyes briefly, realizing that now she was facing more loss–even if he was a lying, cheating Rat Bastard.

No! It’s better this way, stay focused.

She choked in a breath and turned her attention back to the room. His secret love nest was finished with soothing tones on the walls and thick, plush carpeting.

What is that on the end table?

Her gaze was drawn to the bottle label as it bobbed upside down in the melting ice. She sharpened the focus of her binoculars, and her eyes widened in recognition.

Her cheeks flushed. Cristal, she scoffed. Who is this Bimbo, anyway?
As if she had room to criticize this girl’s intelligence, when Sheagan was the one sweating her makeup off in a four-by-four-foot air-duct.

Yeah, who’s the stupid one?

She heard passionate sounds coming from the right of the room and recognized his tone. Leaning sideways, Sheagan pressed her face to the grate, but her limited view revealed only a portion of the bed and unable to make out major details, like faces.

Crap, I can’t see anything.

Damn! She needed to get a better look.

As she shifted her weight, the metal walls started to reverberate and Sheagan stifled a gasp, willing the rumbling to cease. Her breathing became labored as the musty air stole the aroma of the sweet perfume wafting up from the suite below. She stilled her movements and did the only thing she could think of… nothing. Nothing but stare at the heap of blankets and wait.

Come on, bimbo, come up for air. I know he doesn’t last that long.

Her discomfort increased as the noise from their passion became more intense. Ugh, that’s it, I’ve had it!

She mashed her cheek and upper body against the grate.

I just need a peek to confirm.

She pressed harder, ogling the bed. Finally, she caught a tiny glimpse.

Just a little further.

She pushed and heard a chirring sound, then a scraping. She froze in place, but the grate gave way with a creaking groan and crashed to the ground. Time stood still as Sheagan realized there was nothing between her and the floor except air.

Buy Links:Gumshoe Girl
Amazon US
Apple
Smashwords
Kobo
Barnes & Noble

Author Bio:
Andi Ramos and Gumshoe GirlAndi Ramos is a debut author from central Massachusetts where she lives with her family, goat, and Boston Terriers. Her love for reading grew into a passion for writing. She dabbled with pen and paper for a long time and eventually stopped pushing her amusements aside and started developing those stories into novels. One of her favorite things to do is to hop into her motorhome with her family and write while traveling down the road as they journey to various destinations.
Website
Blog
Facebook
Twitter

Most Memorable Experience #MFRWauthor

Over the years I’ve had the pleasure of lots of memorable experiences—a few memorable for being sad but many more for being happy and exciting. One of my most memorable was going away from home for that watershed moment of attending college.

While we had lived in Virginia Beach, Virginia from 3rd grade through my junior year of high school, the summer between my junior and senior year my dad was transferred to Florida. He was going to be on shore duty for a couple of years so I couldn’t begrudge him the great duty, but wondered (“Why, whyyyyyy, do I have to go, too?” “Because you’re my daughter and where your mother and I go, you go.” Okay, then.) what my life would be like, moving so far away to a place I’d never been, to a new school for my senior year among strangers. I found out soon enough.

Not only was I leaving behind my friends and school, but my boyfriend. Any guesses as to what I missed more? This was in the days before cell phones, internet, or email. Skype was something seen in sci-fi movies. Long distance calls were not cheap and so were infrequent. We were stuck with writing letters. As soon as I arrived in Orlando (long before Disneyworld!) I began exploring how I might find my way back to Virginia.

How I ever came across information for Mary Washington College I don’t remember. The pictures of campus were pretty, as were the photos of Fredericksburg—at that time, a lazy little town of 14,000 or so filled with antique shops and historic buildings. The school’s full name was Mary Washington College of the University of Virginia. UVAThe South was well-known for having girls’ schools and boys’ schools, and never the twain shall meet. During my day, UVA was all male except for certain disciplines in junior and senior years. (This changed during my junior year when the twains did meet and UVA became co-ed, at which time Mary Washington became simply Mary Washington College.) I didn’t know where Fredericksburg was in relation to where Jack might end up going to school, but at least I would be back in Virginia—if I was accepted. And, thankfully, I was.

I’d had polio as an infant, and except for being in the hospital or visiting my cousins for a couple of weeks, I’d never been away from home. But in the August after graduation, my parents put me on a train in Orlando and sent me, two suitcases, and a trunk up to Fredericksburg, a 24+ hour journey. So after having never traveled alone, I set out on a trip by myself to a part of Virginia I’d never been, to a school I’d never seen. What an experience!

Having led a pretty darn sheltered life, I was like a rube sent to the big city. I caught a cab at the train station in Fredericksburg and was charged double to go a few short blocks to my dorm (I discovered this when I took a cab back to the station at Christmas, when my fare was surprisingly cheap.). Fortunately, I was placed in a suite of rooms with three other very nice (patient) girls who knew their way around. They pointed me up the hill to campus and gave me good directions. For the next three and a half years, I reveled in the glory of the campus, the history of the area (from Revolutionary War to Civil War), the nearness of Washington, D.C. and Richmond, and being only a few hours from Jack—the boyfriend. That trip became my biggest, most memorable adventure to that time.

Antique shopMy trip north to sleepy Fredericksburg allowed me to meet people that have continued to touch my life, gave me my first taste of independence, and introduced me other adventures I’d have missed had I taken the easy route of staying in Florida for school. In many ways, it was life changing. And—as important—it was fun!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

The Best Gift Given #MFRWauthor

For most of my growing up years, it was just my mom and me. Dad was a lifer in the Navy and had a rate that was ship-board, meaning the job had to be done on board a ship. So when he wasn’t on a cruise for months at a time, he was on what they called shake-down cruises, testing the ship for longer cruises. All told, he was probably gone for nine months of every year between one thing and another.

For all of that time, and even while he was home, my mom was my best friend, the person I told everything, my companion for early evening TV, game after game of Yahtzee, Gin Rummy, or Scrabble, and many, many hours of quiet reading. With the exception of two years in California, she worked my whole life. Back then, the Navy didn’t pay much so she pitched in with working wherever we were stationed. I never resented her working or the chores that meant I had to do. I saw it as being my family responsibility.

Massage as a special giftSo, after hubby and I tied the knot and we had worked long enough to give back a little, I wanted to get Mom a special Christmas gift I knew she would never get herself. I called Elizabeth Arden’s Red Door Spa in Dallas (since closed) and arranged for a day’s treat for my mother. I was giddy with excitement! She would have her hair cut, a facial, a full-body massage and time in the sauna. She would be petted and pampered. At the time it felt ridiculously expensive–$150!!

Spa treatsSo Christmas morning I called my aunt’s house in Dallas. The day in Virginia had calmed down but their house was chaotic with cousins, second cousins, and my grandmother. Mom described her new nightgown in detail, told me all about a new Johnny Cash record, spoke at length about her new set of boots, and oh, yes, “Thank you, sweetie, for the spa trip.” That was it. How could I be so excited and she be so blasé?

So we chatted a bit longer and hung up. About eight hours later, she called back, raving about the spa gift. Aromatherapy and spa relaxationShe said in all the excitement she hadn’t taken the time to read what the gift entailed. At last I was able to smile, knowing I had given her something she would never buy for herself but which she would enjoy. It wasn’t a gift that lasted years, but it was a special moment in time, and isn’t that what makes great memories?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

The Best Gift Ever! #MFRWauthor

As usual, I want to jump the guidelines of the blog topic and talk about TWO best gifts, but I won’t. Well, okay, I will just a touch. Runner up best gift was in 1999 when Jack gifted me something I’d barely read about—an electronic book reader! Yes, they were out that far back. It was made by RCA and weighed about as much as the Kindle. Indents on the back for fingers and a rounded edge that fit perfectly into the palm, made it so easy to hold and turn pages. I swear, that thing changed my reading life!

But the first thing I thought of when considering the best gift is a Kitchen Aid stand mixer. My mother-in-law had one that she had received when Jack was a young boy. She still used it 25 years later. Then she traded it in for a newer model. Fortunately, Jack didn’t do that with me after 25 years, but I digress.

Back then I did a lot of cooking and we also hosted quite a few holidays and dinners for family and friends. I wanted a Kitchen Aid with every fiber of my being. At the time, we lived in Virginia and my mom lived in Dallas, so every two years we would use ChristmasBest gift under the tree break (I taught) to drive to Texas, visit for a few days and then hightail it back home. One particular Texas Christmas, Jack carried into the house the gifts we had brought for Mom, my aunt, and cousins. On Christmas Eve, after midnight Mass, we were sitting around and quietly letting the night and season wash over us. My grandmother asked, “What would you like for Christmas, darling?” I said, looking hopefully at Jack, “I don’t think I will get it, but I’d really like a Kitchen Aid.” Quick as lightning, Jack answered, “Some people are just born to be disappointed!” We all laughed, said our goodnights and went off to wait for sleigh bells signaling the arrival of you-know-who.

So, the next morning we all had a bite to eat, filled our coffee cups and gathered around the tree to distribute gifts. Jack gave me a mysterious round present that turned out to be two stainless steel bowls taped edge to edge and filled with mixing spoons, a whisk, and measuring cups and spoons. I was thrilled—can’t have too many kitchen items! Then when everything was open, Jack pulled out one more gift, and this one was Kitchen Aid gift!big and heavy. Yup! It was a beautiful, shiny white Kitchen Aid! I was so surprised. By everyone’s reaction, I must have looked pretty funny. In fact, I did, as witnessed by the photos I saw afterward. I’m sure I didn’t stop smiling for the whole rest of the holiday. And Jack benefitted many times over with all kinds of breads, cakes, and goodies.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

Favorite Social Media Platforms #MFRWauthor

Well, if I have to talk about social media platforms, this is going to be a short post! I’m not really a fan of social media. I mean, I still think

Social media platforms

email is cutting edge technology. I have avoided learning about things like Tweets and Friends and Likes for years. Now that I have started writing again, however, I am being thrust at the speed of rockets into a brave, new world that rightfully belongs to teens. The path has not always been smooth.

To say I have favorite platforms (plural) is too much of a stretch. Having said that I’m not a fan of social media in general, I admit to enjoying Twitter. The memes (I had to look that word up!) are sometimes funny, and I am more likely to go from Twitter to Amazon and buy books than on any other medium. (So while I like Twitter, my husband hates it.) I also enjoy blogging and—with a little help from friends—have even found my way into tribes on Triberr. So there are platforms I feel somewhat comfortable with.

Don't likeHowever, I do have a platform that is my least favorite. The name rhymes with Place Cook. And the reason for Place Cook’s being my least favorite social media platform is that THEY KEEP THROWING ME OUT. Okay, granted, I didn’t read all 100 pages of community rules and thus ended up with more than one account. But couldn’t they just tell me that and give me a chance to correct my errors instead of disabling my accounts so that I don’t even have access to delete them? Asking a question (like “please tell me why you disabled my account”) is like throwing a stone into a black hole. In short, I dislike Place Cook and it dislikes me. And I see no resolution to my plight.

That said, please say hello on Twitter: @DeeSKnight. I’ll be very happy to say hello back!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!